Resuscitate (Annihilate #1)

by S. Morayla

  Hearing Shorty’s pain and suffering makes me cringe. I hate knowing she’s felt this way. It’s hard to imagine this beautiful girl in such a dark place, but things start to make more sense. Why she was standoffish, why she never said whether she had a boyfriend.

  “I’m sorry, Natalee.”

  She smiles a sad smile, nodding. Her chocolate eyes hold so much sorrow. I clear my throat, looking down at the box. I’m curious to know what’s in there, but I’m also a bit scared. If it holds any more pain, I’m not sure I can handle it.

  As nervous as I am, curiosity wins out.

  “What’s in the box?” I whisper into her hair.

  Natalee moves out of my lap so she can sit beside me. I wait for her to open the top, swallowing the nerves bundled in my throat.

  “This box wasn’t supposed to come with me to college. Like I said, Dad and Vic really pushed for me to live again, to experience life. Two years ago, after the tragic news of my boyfriend…” her slender throat swallows, “you know, after...I went home and this box was there, an envelope attached to the top with Eternally Yours written on it. I knew right away it was from him. I couldn’t believe it. To this day, I haven’t read the letter.”

  Shorty opens the top, grabbing the first item: a black leather jacket. I know this jacket—I’ve seen it in her dorm room—but I’ve never asked about it.

  “This is Rhys’ jacket. He put it on me that morning before I left his house. He always made me feel safe and secure. In a way, I think he wrapped me in it to remind me how he will always wrap me in his love.”

  A wistful smile passes her lips. “These pictures are of Rhys and I. Just pictures of us during the happier times.” Natalee continues to show me the items tucked in the box.

  She tells me stories about each item and their significance. I smile during most of her stories—especially the ones where her eyes light up and her hands fly into motion. I love watching the spark in her eyes. I’m starting to see the love she had and lost. Some stories are somber, but she pulls the brightest memories, making my grin bigger.

  Though her tears still fall silently down her cheeks, there is a new flare growing with each passing word. Her soul is letting go, cleansing itself—repairing and mending her heart in the process. I can see it in the way she takes deep, restoring breaths. Her eyes brighten, her body seems to relax further.

  “That pretty much sums up everything I wanted to tell you.” My eyes drift past her face to a velvety red box at the bottom.

  “What’s in that box, Shorty?” Nat looks down and picks it up, twirling it round and round. I wait patiently, knowing she needs a minute. Clearing her throat, she looks up at me and carefully opens the box.

  Talking to the Moon

  Time.

  It can be your best friend or your worst enemy. The box in my hands represents so much of my past. I wasn’t going to open it. I wanted to bury it. Keep it away, just like the hurt it will inevitably bring. Looking up at Zayne’s compassionate face, I know it’s the right time.

  I’ve shared so much already. Until this moment, I wasn’t sure about this, but his face makes all the anxiety disappear. Opening the box, I pull out one of the smaller boxes tucked inside.

  A jewelry box.

  Rhys didn’t get me any jewelry box—no, this is a silver antique piano-shaped music jewelry box. When you lift the lid, it plays Beethoven’s Fur Elise. There are three charm bracelets inside.

  I lift the first one, admiring the charms on it.

  I run my finger over each one.

  “What do they stand for?” His quiet voice echoes off the stillness of the room. I smile as my finger touches the heart charm.

  “Our friends and everyone else thought the heart was a representation. You know, he gave me his heart.” Looking sideways at Zayne, I shake my head. “It’s not. When I was little, my Nona and Pop-Pop, used to tell me I was their heart. I loved being with them. They made me smile, laugh, and feel cherished. I told Rhys about it once when my Pop was really sick.”

  I turn the bracelet to the next charm: a Palm Tree. “This represents where I was born and lived for the first ten years of my life—Palm Springs.” I move the bracelet again, my finger touching the sun charm.

  “Is that for the sunshine in Palm Springs?” Zayne asks, a warm smile on his lips. I smile bigger in return.

  “No, my Nana and Papa, my mom’s parents, call me sol—sunshine, in Spanish. They would take me on hikes along Indian and Tahquitz Canyon. We would hike up to the waterfalls. They were very active. I told Rhys a story once about how they called me sol. My Papa said it was because I was the brightest star in his universe. Nana said it was because I can brighten any room.”

  “That’s very true, you do.” His whiskey eyes meet mine. I’m paralyzed, caught in his spell. My fingers reach out to his stubbled face, caressing his cheek.

  My eyes take in every action.

  His eyes close swiftly.

  He leans in closer to my touch.

  His lips exhale softly.

  “Thank you.” My breathing is erratic, my pulse pounding in my ears.

  Leaning in further, he slowly opens his eyes.

  “For?”

  “Just being here. Listening to all of this. I know it can’t be easy.” Gravity is a sneaky bitch. One moment, we are two feet apart, and the next, two inches.

  “Anytime you need me, I’ll be here.” His eyes burn with sincerity, making my heart flutter. Leaning in another inch, his breath mixes with my own.

  Zayne cups my cheeks, bringing his soft, sweet lips to mine. There is no urgency—just gentle, slow, and passionate. His tongue strokes my own lazily, making my body react.

  My heart hammers against my chest.

  Wetness soaks my core.

  Pussy clenches.

  Anticipation.

  His lips skim along my jaw, down to my neck.

  The air is stolen from my lungs.

  “Shorty?”

  “Yes?” He chuckles as his thumbs brush lightly on my cheeks.

  “I love seeing you like this, but we’ll never finish talking at this rate.” My head flops back, a grunt pushing past my lips. Why does he always have to be so damn virtuous?

  Clearing my throat, I move away from him, knowing how my body reacts to his.

  “Where was I?” I ask, my voice a bit shaky.

  “Charm bracelets.”

  “Right…” I look down at the one currently in my hand.

  The next charm is an ice cream cone.

  “I told Rhys when I was younger, my dad and I had daddy-daughter dates. He would take me to downtown Palm Springs and we would walk the block. Usually, he would take me to Mr. G’s, a toy store, to buy me Hello Kitty stuff. My room was full of Hello Kitty.” I sniffle and smile. “Then we would have lunch at Ruby’s and walk to Stone Cold Creamery for ice cream, but when it was cold,” I laugh, “you know, sixty-five degrees was freezing for us—we would walk to Starbucks to get hot chocolate.” I point to the hot chocolate charm. Putting back that bracelet, I pick up the next one, examining it.

  “This bracelet represented our present. The one I just put away was for my past. The guitar…well, I think you saw last night that I can play it. Uncle Victor taught me when I was four. I saw him playing and singing. I made him teach me. Of course, his guitar was too big, so he bought me a smaller one. He also taught me how to read music. When I was six, he bought me my own music book so I could write my own songs.”

  “I wondered how you kept that from me all these months. You sing like an angel,” Zayne tells me, making me feel shy.

  “It was more that I stopped playing. After Rhys, I didn’t want anything to do with music. For me, it symbolized what I had lost. By the time I was sixteen, I had written over fifty songs for chart-topping bands and musicians. I also helped with the score on a few movies. Rhys gave me the push and inspiration to do those things. When he died, that part of me died, too. I don’t do well being the center of attention, so it was difficult,
ya know?”

  Zayne blinks, looking at me like I’ve grown two heads. He asks me what songs I’ve written and for whom. When I start ticking off the songs and bands, his mouth falls open. I laugh. I know it seems so odd; it’s still strange for me as well.

  “That day at the police station when that lawyer asked you about money, was it because of all that?”

  “Yeah. I get royalty checks for music I’ve written and scores I have made. Uncle Vic has been trying hard to get me back into composing and songwriting. Always wanting to put me back in the studio.” I shrug because it’s no big deal. I was blessed to have an ear for music and instruments, but I’m still not at a place where I feel the burning desire to be writing.

  “What does your uncle do?” His brows pinch together in confusion. I raise my eyebrows at him. Huh, and here I thought they all knew who my uncle was. Thank God my uncle is not as popular as he likes to think he is. I mean, his damn head is already big enough. Add people recognizing him and I’m afraid that shit will explode.

  “He’s the CEO of Fuse Records. He started out as a talent scout and manager, but he’s very savvy. The owner saw his potential and now Vic owns half the company. So, I don’t know, maybe that makes him like vice CEO.” If Zayne’s eyes could pop out of his head, I think right now would be the point at which they would have.

  “Whoa, that is crazy. How did I not know how talented you are?” He grins at me. I push his shoulder, shaking my head at him.

  “Next charm?” I ask him sweetly, trying to pull his thoughts away from Vic and his profession.

  “Yup.” He cocks his head, looking at the next charm. “Does that say Colorado?” Nodding, I tear my eyes away from his face.

  “Yeah, we saw it at the mall and he thought it was a perfect fit for this bracelet.”

  “Is pizza your favorite food, then?” Zayne asks when I turn to the next charm.

  I close my eyes. “At lunch, Rhys got a pizza slice and sat down next to me. I asked him if he was bearing gifts. ‘Of course,’ he said, and slid the pizza in front of me. I looked at him confused. That’s when he said, ‘I bought that for you.’ When I lifted up the plate, there was a note that said, ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’ It was so cheesy, but cute.” I shrug.

  “That looks like a Grammy.”

  “Yeah, that’s what it is. I won three the year he got me this bracelet. He had it made. And this, he bought me a week before he died. He said so I would always have the key to his heart.” Tears begin stinging my eyes.

  “You should wear it, Shorty. He gave you all these charms so you would remember those you love. I’m sure he would still want that.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” I whisper, emotion clogging my throat.

  “These are good memories you have of him, Nat. I’m almost positive he wanted you to remember the best of him, and this,” he points to the charm bracelet, “is the best of him. He gave you a gift so you would have the happy memories of all the people you love. Seems to me like he remembered everything you told him. It sounds like he loved you very much, Nat. Even now, his spirit is still around. There are things that remind you of him because he is here with you—he always will be.”

  Words fail me.

  I’m grateful that when I hear a certain song or hear Rhys say my name in the wind, I know he’s still protecting me. Rhys was always that way, though. He would give me advice.

  When I didn’t want to try out for the talent show, he would encourage me.

  He was the one who helped me gain confidence. He would practice with me for hours. Each step of the way, he was there. Never failing, always with love and encouragement. I know he gave me this as a way to remind me of all the people who loved and believed in me.

  “Is this weird for you? I mean, me looking through all this?” I look over to Zayne’s face, worried that maybe this is too much for him.

  “No, all of this shows me a big part of you—a big part of who you are. I’m starting to understand you and that’s what I have wanted all this time. No relationship is easy, but you have gone through a tragic event. To know at any point you could have given up is hard, but to see you now, smiling, flourishing, you’re slowly spreading your wings, ready to fly. I’m so proud of you, Natalee.”

  So many tears over the years.

  There was a hole in my soul.

  A throb aching to be filled.

  All this time, I thought it was because my heart was no longer beating. I was in cruise control. My soul needed reviving. The fears kept it at bay. I was searching for reasons not to live, when all along, there was a bigger goal.

  Love and resuscitation.

  That night, Zayne and I talked—really talked—about our pasts. Even though I was glad he was here and I was finally able to show him why I pushed and pulled for so long, there is still one more thing I need to tell him, but before I do, I need to get closure—total and complete closure.

  Adorn

  I embrace Rhys. The smell of his cologne wafts through the air. I love the feel of his leather jacket against my cheek. “I will always be in your heart. I love you, ladybug. I’m forever, eternally yours.”

  “Please don’t leave,” I beg, my heart racing, panic setting in.

  “Never, I’m always here.” He pulls back, placing his hand on my heart. I watch as he walks away.

  My face feels wet with the tears that trickle down. I realize it was a dream, but the tears are real. Warm hands pull me closer to a hot body.

  Zayne.

  A smile forms on my lips. As much as I love being in his arms, I really need to pee. Carefully, I slip out of bed, not wanting to disturb him.

  I look down at him and my heart jumps, happiness spreading throughout my body. How odd is it that I can just look at him and be so delighted and content?

  Once in the bathroom, I wash my face, but still feel grimy and sticky from sweating, so I climb in the shower. I’m lost in thought, recalling all that has happened these past twenty-four hours.

  “Shorty, do you have an extra toothbrush?” Zayne’s voice pulls me from my musings.

  “My uncle left me an extra one in the medicine cabinet,” I say as I turn off the water. I grab my robe from the hook just outside the shower door before I step out. By this point, I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed—I mean, he’s seen me naked—but I still feel shy.

  “Do you want to go out for breakfast or do you want me to make you something?” Zayne asks, our eyes connecting in the mirror. I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “You know how to cook? Oh, I have to see this,” I tease. With his mouth full of toothpaste suds, he winks at me, causing a giggle to break free from my lips as I walk back into the room.

  I lie back on the bed and scroll through Instagram to get the latest updates from my bands and bookstagrammers. The bed dips next to me. I turn my head, looking over to Zayne.

  “Can I ask you something?” Zayne looks down at me, his finger lightly tracing the contours of my face. I nod, not trusting my voice.

  “After everything we talked about last night, does this mean you are now mine? Or are you still contemplating a relationship with me?” I swallow back the smile wanting to take over my face.

  When I was sixteen and Rhys asked me to be his girlfriend, it was clear-cut. He asked, I answered—end of story. With Zayne, it’s so different. I’ve had to overcome so many hurdles, let the walls I’ve built up tear down.It hasn’t been easy, but after not talking to him for two weeks and knowing how miserable I was...

  I’m no longer afraid to express what I want.

  He has helped me see that I deserve more.

  He has been patient and caring.

  “Well, I’m still thinking about it. I mean, you’re not even my type.” A smile twitches at my lips.

  “Not your type, huh?” he asks and starts to tickle me. I kick out, laugh-screaming, “No, no, no!”

  “Give up, Shorty. Tell me you’re mine.” He straddles me, but sits up on his knees.

  “Okay, okay!�
�� I shout between gasps of laughter and air.

  “I’m yours, Zayne.” He looks down at me with a smirk. “That’s what I thought.” Leaning closer, he captures my lips with his, coaxing me to open up for him. Our tongues dance in a slow tango.

  My whole body is anxious.

  Visions of the way he brought me to ecstasy not so long ago make my pussy wet. My body is hungry, needing to feel his cock inside me.

  “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear those words from your lips,” he whispers, kissing the slope of my neck. My hands fly up to the back of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair.

  I moan when he unties my robe. Cool air hits my nipples, causing them to pucker. So many sensations flow through me.

  Anticipation.

  Happiness.

  Pleasure.

  Zayne kisses my body, massaging my breasts before taking one in his mouth. My back arches as his tongue lavishes my breast slowly. The ache in between my legs is becoming unbearable. I can feel his erection between my legs, but he won’t lower so I can rub against him. Cheeky bastard likes to have me writhing.

  “I need you, Zayne, please.” My voice comes out breathy and shameless.

  “Patience, Nat. I want to worship and kiss every inch of this beautiful body. You’re mine now and I intend to make love to you.” Finding my clit, his finger rubs it in slow circles. I throw my head back into the pillow; my hands clench the sheets below me. When his finger slides into my slick folds, a soft whimper escapes my lips. I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine. My breaths come out uneven and ragged.

  When another finger slips in, I can’t take it anymore. I’m all sensation, intoxicated in euphoria. Zayne licks my pussy; his fingers keep their heavenly pace.

  “Look at me, Nat,” he growls from between my legs, causing my eyes to fly open and connect to his. I try to close my legs, but he spreads them farther apart.

  “Keep open and watch me. I want to see you come undone. I want to taste you on my tongue.” His head dips between my trembling legs once again. He licks and sucks my clit, taking a moment to blow on my overheated pussy every now and then.