Slut

by Jettie Woodruff

  “Come up here. I’ll meet you out by the pool with a plate of food and a drink.”

  “I can’t. I’m not that strong. I’m afraid I won’t leave.”

  “I know. Come up here.”

  “Fuck!” I audibly said to the blinking phone, assuring me that he wasn’t there. He hung up. I was screwed, and now hungry. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I said again. Fucker.

  I used toilet paper for a makeshift pad, not about to go to him. No way. I knew how much control I had around Paxton Pierce. Zero. Zip. None. I wasn’t about to do that. No way.

  I looked everywhere for anything that could portray light. Nothing. Not one damn candle, and the flashlight I found had corroded batteries. Deader than dead. I waited in the dark for as long as I could, using up the last bit of toilet paper. Walking around the room like a blind person, I felt my way around, remembering the little closet by the bed. Maybe I stored a candle or a freaking tampon in there. My fingers felt the wood and then the metal doorknob. The thought of something creepy and crawly crossed my mind as I touched a few clothes, an empty shoe box, and a loose board. I jerked my hand back when I felt the splinter, afraid for a second that I had gotten bit by a spider.

  I screamed and slammed the little door when the lights magically came on, scaring the shit out of me. The whole cabinet shook, rocking back and forth until it steadied. I was going to prison for life. First-degree murder.

  “You’re impossible. I hate you,” I said to the camera. The camera that wasn’t visible from the little cupboard. That got my attention as I recalled the second thump after I had slammed the door. Looking up again, just to make sure I wasn’t being watched, I cracked the door and looked inside, seeing the piece of wood on the floor and the same envelope as the one on my counter tucked away in the top of the closet.

  I didn’t want to deal with Paxton. I wanted to see what the big secret was from Candace, and now this. I stared at the new information hidden above my head, debating my next move. I needed a tampon. That was my next move.

  “I’m coming, but not because you told me to. I’m coming because I have blood running out of my vagina, and that’s it,” I assured the camera as I stepped around the wall, knowing he watched my every move.

  Again, I stomped angrily away from the counter, leaving my evidence for later. Or so I thought. I’d just closed the door when he called again.

  “Bring the envelope.”

  “No way. You’ll take it and not let me see it. I’m not bringing it.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Gabriella. Get the damn envelope, or I’m coming after it.”

  “I’m seeing what’s inside,” I demanded while I once again submitted, consciously and unconsciously to his ways. It was the only way I knew. Once I had retrieved the folder, snatching it from the counter with rage, I sent a glower to the camera, and slammed the door. Dumb me even locked the damn thing, knowing I wouldn’t be back. Paxton would never let me leave again. Ever.

  I gave myself a pep talk the entire way up to the house, until I saw him that is.

  The moon high above, casting beauty to the magnificent ocean had nothing on the beauty it cast in front of me. A soft glow fell over a dark silhouette. His hands were above his head, holding onto the top of the screen door. No shirt, jeans and bare feet were revealed as I neared him. Him and his stupid smirk. My internal pep talk to stay strong, not to take his shit, and hold my ground was forgotten. Chastising my absurd self-took its place.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Pierce. How are you?” Paxton asked through a sneer and narrowed eyes, his body barricading the door.

  I turned my lips to the left, giving him half a smile while I wondered if this new ‘Mrs. Pierce’ was because he didn’t know what to call me anymore. Izabella or Gabriella.

  Neither one of us spoke. I crossed my arms while he stayed planted, keeping me from entering through the screen door with his rock hard body. No doubt about it, I was doomed.

  “I said, good evening,” he repeated.

  I looked up, wishing he’d drop his hands from the door. The position zoned in on too many of his good qualities. Like the tan line around his waist and his jeans, hanging loosely over his hips. Like the way his abs showed every possible, defined muscle. Like the way his chest and arms bulged, reminding me of how they looked when he towered above. The image of my legs wrapped around him staring at the same build refused to leave my mind.

  “Jesus, move,” I said as my hands touched him, one on his chest and one on his ribs. His solid body stayed still, unmoved by my attempt to sidestep him. My fingers relaxed and my senses heightened, feeling him, really feeling him, his skin warm against mine. The folder in my hand made a crinkling noise as I unconsciously slipped it to my armpit.

  He didn’t move. Not at all. His eyes bored into mine, but I refused to look. I stared past his right arm, to the pink Lego underneath a chase lounge by the pool instead.

  I bit hard on my bottom lip when his hands moved from above to me. His fingers wrapped lightly around both my wrists, and he pulled them away from his body. It wasn’t until then that I realized I was still touching him, and enjoying it.

  “Kiss me.”

  I tried like hell to hide my laugh, biting harder on the inside of my jaw. “You’re crazy. Like batshit crazy.”

  Paxton laughed that time. A real laugh. Not the fake kind I was used to. “I wonder what that makes you.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat while I watched his mouth move toward mine. “Good point,” I agreed as our lips met. Who was I to call anyone crazy? The fact that I was now kissing the man who had me arrested a few days before deemed me crazier than anyone I knew. Raging lunatic. I didn’t kiss him back, not at first. Paxton parted my lips with his tongue and I let him. I was okay with that. It wasn’t until he lifted my shirt and ran his hands up my ribs that I liquefied into him. Stupid, stupid, endorphins. Just like that, I became a puddle of erotic hormones, a lovesick teenager in heat.

  I kissed him back while my body melted into his, sending an array of ecstasy searing between us. Things heated up quick, and I completely forgot about my problem. Paxton did not. He pulled away first, leaving me panting with a steady thump between my legs, and soft words to my lips. “Do you want to shower before you eat? Take care of that vagina problem you have going on?”

  “That’s not my vagina problem anymore.”

  Paxton snickered and kissed me with one more soft peck. “I know. Your clothes are on your bed. Don’t wake the girls,” he ordered as he slid the envelope from my arm. I tried to grab it, but he was faster and taller. Damn. I didn’t want him to have that first.

  “Don’t open it until I get back.”

  Paxton kissed me again and took a step back. “I don’t think you do the telling around here.”

  I walked past him, shaking my head and rolling my eyes, not at him though, at myself. What the hell was wrong with me? Had to be the head injury, nothing else could explain my stupidity. I mean, come on, I had to fight the urge to take my clothes off. Geez. My internal verbal abuse halted when I walked into the house, a sense of unbelonging fell over me as I entered. It felt strange being there, like a lie, like I was a stranger. Unable to help myself, I did throw away a half-eaten pop tart and picked up Lucy the Lioness from the floor, tossing her to the sofa.

  As hard as it was, I refrained from opening either door as I made my way to the end of the hall. Not because Paxton told me not to, but because I had the other problem to deal with first. I needed a shower and a tampon, and then I planned to open the doors, both of them.

  The shower felt amazing, my lavender scented body wash was a missed delight, and my expensive shampoo beat the hell out of the cheap stuff I’d been using. I thought I was just spoiled, turned out to be the truth, you get what you pay for. I didn’t even mind the thongs Paxton laid out for me, they too felt missed. I decided then that I had indeed lost my mind. I seconded the motion when I applied makeup and lipstick. I didn’t even know why, it wasn’t like I could even seduce him,
I was on my period.

  I disobeyed, opting out of the clothes chosen for me. I didn’t need a nightgown because I wouldn’t be staying. The lie left my mind as I slid a psychedelic, green, blue, and orange, sundress over my head. Paxton wouldn’t let me leave. I knew it as much as he did.

  My heart warmed as soon as my hand came in contact with the cold doorknob. It warmed even more when I saw my sleeping Rowan, curled in a cute little ball with a new stuffed cat cuddled in her arms. That explained why Lucy was all alone in the living room. She’d been replaced by her feline cousin. I brushed hair from her face and kissed her little cheek.

  Her eyes fluttered open and then closed right before she realized I was really there. “Mommy! You got home. Daddy said you wasn’t leaving the hospital until the morning. Are you all better now? Why didn’t you call me? You said next time you would.”

  I sat on the edge of her bed and hugged her tight, taking in the same lavender scent as my own hair. “I’m sorry, the phones weren’t working there. I told your dad to give you a big hug and tell you I love you every day.”

  “Well, he did, but I still missed you.”

  “I missed you, too. A whole, whole bunch,” I admitted as I squeezed even tighter. These two little girls sure did change things. They made me want to stay. I never wanted to be away from them. Ever.

  “You don’t listen at all anymore,” Paxton said from the door. His demeanor had changed and I knew he looked. He wasn’t playful Paxton anymore, even his posture was stiffer, and his body was covered with a Florida State t-shirt.

  “I couldn’t help it. I missed them,” I admitted to Paxton while turning to Rowan. “You go to sleep and I will see you in the morning,” I promised with a kiss to her nose.

  “Promise?” she questioned, arms fighting to be freed from the tight cocoon, I’d tucked her into.

  “Pinky swear. Night sweetie. I love you to the moon and back.”

  “I love you, too,” she said through a yawn.

  “Night, Row. Love you,” Paxton said as I walked past him and straight to Ophelia’s door, the nickname noted with a smile.

  “You called her Row,” I accused.

  “Shut up. Don’t wake her,” he ordered with a hand around my wrists, trying to keep me from going in.

  “I have to. You go four days without seeing them. Tell me how you like it,” I said as the doorknob turned in my hand.

  An audible breath was heard when he breathed deep, letting me go. I’m sure he knew he wouldn’t win this one. Lucky for him, it took two minutes with Phi. Unlike Rowan, she didn’t move a muscle. Not even when I moved her leg from an awkward position and covered her up. I kissed her forehead and whispered that I loved her while Paxton waited at the door.

  “Your food is outside,” Paxton said with an open palm, letting me walk in front of him.

  “And the drink?” I questioned, hair flipping around my shoulder as I tried to flirt and read him at the same time. He didn’t answer and the expression on his face was unnatural. Not like I was used to seeing from him. It wasn’t angry, it wasn’t smirky, and it wasn’t playful. That’s all I knew. This one looked like he’d been punched in the gut, causing me to worry about the evidence he knew and I didn’t.

  I could see the stack of photos upside down in front of my plate, but I was a little more excited about the bowtie pasta, topped with my favorite. The first bite was all it took to realize it tasted as good as it looked. Art with a blast to my taste buds. He did well and I was impressed.

  I hummed my delight, looking to Paxton, taking the chair to my left. “Hmmm, this is delicious. You made this?”

  “Tricia did. I asked her to.”

  I dropped my fork to the plate, causing it to clink against the china, and shoved it away.

  “What?” Paxton asked like he had no clue. Idiot.

  “Nothing, I just thought there for a minute you did something for me for once.”

  “I did, I asked Tricia to make it for me.”

  “Did you ask her to make it for you, or for me?”

  The silence answered my question and I shook my head in disbelief. Unfortunately, I was hungry, and it was so good. I stabbed a piece of broccoli with my fork and plopped it in my mouth with a glare, sharp knives stabbing out his eyeballs.

  “What the hell is this? Since when are you jealous over Tricia? This makes no sense.”

  “Did you ever think maybe that it’s because I didn’t care then?” Once again silence fell between us as Paxton reflected on what I had just said. “And her sauce sucks,” I lied while pondering the unfamiliar taste saturated throughout my pasta. Chardonnay maybe. I secretly loved it.

  “What does that mean, Gabriella?”

  I took another bite and Paxton slid my plate close to me, sensing that my pride and ego wouldn’t let me do it. The same expression that I couldn’t read before reappeared, worry lines in the corner of both eyes.

  “It means my sauce tastes way better than hers.”

  Paxton smiled with a puff of air. “I’m being serious.”

  I pulled both my legs below my butt and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “I don’t have the advantage that you do, Paxton. I don’t know how I felt about Tricia before. I don’t really like her now. I hate the way she flirts with you, and she tried to say something mean to me one day. I put her in her place and she looked like I slapped her across the face. I don’t think we were friends before. Not like Mi. Mi is a true friend.”

  Paxton blinked his eyes and shook his head, trying to keep up. “First of all, what did Tricia say? Why did you put her in her place?”

  “We were watching you in the batting cage. She told me that she would love to show me how to love a man like you.”

  “And you said?”

  “That I didn’t need help with that.”

  “And?”

  “She said obviously I couldn’t. If I could, I wouldn’t be sleeping in my own room. I then told her to go fuck herself, and asked her how she took care of her own man while she thought about mine. I told her she couldn’t handle the things you do to me and walked away. And then you made me go to her stupid birthday party.”

  “But you were never jealous before. They all flaunted their high maintenance asses around me, until about a month after your accident. They stopped. Now I know why. You stopped them, didn’t you?”

  I shrugged my left shoulder as I shoved more food into my mouth. “I don’t go around hitting on their husbands.”

  “Except Lane,” he said, quietly. “What do you mean your real friend?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said they weren’t real friends like you.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “Yes you did. You said they weren’t like me.”

  “Oh, Mi. Yeah, I’m not hearing voices,” I assured him with half a laugh. “Mi, she’s Nick’s girlfriend.”

  “Who the hell is Nick?”

  “He works with Lane. They helped me when you tossed me out to the streets.”

  “I didn’t toss you to the streets. Lane was supposed to make sure you went into the hotel. I was only going to let you stay there for one night. Where’s the car? Why did you take the car?”

  I took a deep breath and told the truth. “I needed what was inside.”

  “What was that?”

  “I’ll send you the video. If you thought I was fucking the neighbor, why would you let him take me to a hotel room?”

  “What video? I don’t think you’re fucking him now. I think you were before the accident. Were you?”

  My eyes went to the photos and my lungs filled with air all on they're own. “I don’t know, Paxton. I don’t know why I did a lot of things before I forgot who I was. I feel like I lived a lie. Not just one. Copious amounts of lies hover all around us, and I don’t know why. But you do.”

  “I don’t know what lies you told me. You have a fucking twin sister, for Christ’s sake. Did you not think that should have been something we discussed?”

 
“I don’t know because I don’t remember. You tell me why, why would I ever feel like I needed to hide something like that from you? I loved her, I know I did, I still do, and I can’t for the life of me understand why I would hide her from you.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe things are different because you’re not really who I married?”

  I snorted with that one, but I knew it would come up. “You think I’m Izzy?”

  “I don’t know. You’re so different, Gabriella. I don’t know you at all.”

  “I think you do, and I think you’re afraid to admit it.”

  Paxton spun my drink in a circle as his eyes dropped to the table. We stared briefly at each other, and then I slid my glass from his hand, asking the loaded question. “What if I am Izzy? What then, Paxton?”

  His shoulders shrugged that time, and then sunk dejectedly. He stretched out his arms, took a deep breath of cool air, and cracked his knuckles. “I don’t fucking know.”

  “Why did you have me arrested? Why couldn’t you just come to me? That hurts, ya know?”

  “See, Gabriella, it’s not supposed to hurt. That’s the big change. You didn’t have that emotion. That’s why we worked so well together. We had an arrangement.”

  “Yeah, so I keep hearing. What do you expect from me, Paxton? What do you want?” I questioned as I sipped the delicious drink, wondering if Tricia made it, too.

  “I don’t think you’re my wife.”

  “I think you’re wrong, but only partially.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  There was no easy way to say what I knew I had to say. It had to come out, but that wasn’t what I was afraid of. I had the courage to tell him about our switch when we were eleven, however I couldn’t make him believe me. Hell, I wouldn’t believe me either. I knew our lives were about to change in one way or another. I knew that I had to come clean with what I knew, I had to tell him about Vander, and I had to tell him my plans to go after him. What scared the hell out of me was his reaction. As much as I wanted to keep my pride and ego from getting hurt, I needed him more. For Vander’s sake.

  “Gabriella?” he had to say to get my attention.