by Marni Mann
“I’m right here.”
“But you’re not,” he says. “You’re stuck in your head again, tearing yourself down because you were honest when you needed to be.”
I take a deep breath, but I can’t control myself now any more than I could before. But, this time, I’m angry. I’m mad that he thinks he can read me so well—even if he can.
“You don’t get to tell me how I feel, Adrian. This is not your war to fight or your battle to win.”
“Look at me,” he says.
Even though I don’t want to, I do as I was told because that’s how I was trained to respond. “What?” I ask, completely exposed.
His eyes soften, and so does my resolve.
“I’m not mad at you, Adrian. I’m mad at myself.”
“For what?”
“For turning into someone I don’t want to be. This morning, all I wanted was to get lost in you. I wanted to start fresh with you inside me, owning me yet leaving me with the power. I’ve never had that, and I wanted it.”
“Why are you talking like we can’t start over? If you want me, Andi, get lost in me now.”
“I fucked it all up.”
I can tell he doesn’t like that answer. Without asking, he takes what he wants. But not the way Brooks always did. This isn’t for Adrian; it’s for me.
He bends and picks me up until I’m straddling him. Once I’m where he wants me, he presses my back against the shower wall, staying close enough for the water to keep us warm. I expect him to touch me, but he places his hands above my head and rests his forehead against mine.
“You didn’t fuck anything up, Andi. I still want you. I’ll never stop wanting this beautiful body.”
“Show me how much you want me. I need you to show me.”
With his hand, he lines himself up against my entrance, waiting for me to stop him or slow him down. When I say nothing, he pushes inside, filling me with a delicious sting.
Given the circumstances, I expect him to take it slow, but he does the opposite. He forgets all about my meltdown, instead giving it to me like he would have last night had I not fallen apart.
“This is what you do to me, Andi. You make me crazy to the point where all I can think about is being inside you. I can’t get enough of you.”
“More, Adrian.”
He adds his thumb to my clit, rubbing small circles around and around with just the right amount of pressure. When my thighs start to shake, he slows his pace, replacing short, quick thrusts with longer, slower ones.
“Ohmigod, yes. Just like that.”
“Feel how good we are, Andi. And don’t ever doubt it.”
“I won’t.”
I can’t.
This man owns me.
Clay
When I get out of the shower a few hours later, Andi’s still sleeping. I watch her from the doorway of the bathroom as I get dressed. She has a face that I could stare at forever. It’s so calm and relaxed, filled with a peacefulness that I see only when she’s asleep. When she’s awake, she isn’t able to shut her brain off. Emotions consume her. Worry and fear eat at her. But, when her eyes are closed, she’s so content.
My hope is that, one day, she’ll be just as comfortable awake as when she is sleeping. But I don’t know if that will ever happen. Her past is too painful. It strangles her, and those chains don’t seem to let up. No matter how hard I try to get her to forget, those memories stay hovered between us. Memories, she can mostly deal with, it seems.
It’s the cracks Brooks caused that she hasn’t quite healed from. They cause her to overthink everything, blame herself when something doesn’t go perfectly. She needs to stop striving for perfection. Shit, I’m far from perfect. What we have together will never be perfect. It’ll be us. It’ll be what we need. And that will be enough.
But what happened earlier today in the shower is as close to perfect as one can get. Andi gave me her body without any restrictions. I could do anything I wanted to it and not have to worry about hurting her or using too much strength. She asked me to show her how much I wanted her, and that was exactly what I did. I got her out of her head. I got her to focus on the sensations I was filling her with. And, in return, I got to devour that delicious body of hers—those ass cheeks that I liked to squeeze as I pulled my cock out and drove it back in, those nipples that hardened when I tugged them between my teeth, that warm, wet pussy that wrapped so snuggly around my dick.
Not even a few tears darkened that memory, nor did they scare me away. What they did was show me how much Andi cares, how she doesn’t want to ruin what we’re building together, how badly she wants to move on from her past.
It will all take time.
And, the next time, there’ll be fewer tears.
I turn off the bathroom light and slide on some flip-flops—a pair Andi picked out when we went shopping. Then, I move over to my side of the bed. Even though I want to kiss her, run my lips down each of her tits, and wake her up with an orgasm, I don’t. I kept her up so late, and she needs her sleep. So, I drop a note on my pillow that gives her the time I left and tells her I’ll be back in a few hours.
After watching her sleep for a few seconds, I quietly leave the bedroom, and I climb into the taxi that’s waiting for me outside.
The address Russell texted me turns out to be a coffee shop. With only a few people inside, the place has plenty of privacy. Since he hasn’t arrived yet, I order a black coffee and pick a booth in the back corner.
Russell shows up a few minutes later, joining me after he grabs a coffee. “I figured you’d bring Andi,” he says as he takes a seat across from me.
I didn’t tell Andi that I’d be meeting with Russell. I’m still not sure I need to unless Russell finds something out. It seems like all it will do is work her up, and that’s the last thing she needs.
“Nah,” I say, “I let her sleep in.”
He nods and takes a sip of his coffee. “So, whatcha got for me, Adrian?”
“Shit, man.” I didn’t expect him to spit out my real name.
I thought I protected myself well. It’s dark inside the bar, I keep my hair around my face, and I haven’t trimmed my beard. The phone I texted him from is a burner, and there aren’t any records of me in Dane’s office.
“How’d you know?”
“When someone wants to employ a hacker, they usually have something to hide. I ran your picture through some software. Didn’t take more than a few minutes to figure out who you were.”
“This isn’t about me.”
“Doesn’t have to be.” He pulls a shaker into his hand that looks like cinnamon or nutmeg. “Look, I’m not here to call you out. Whatever you tell me, whatever I find, stays between us, all right? But I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I didn’t at least know who I was dealing with.”
I still don’t like the idea that someone at the bar knows my true identity, but keeping Andi safe is more important. I can always find another bartending job if I have to.
“Yeah, I get it,” I say.
“Good. Now, Clay, tell me what you’re looking for.”
“I need you to keep tabs on a guy named Brooks Fletcher.” Even though I don’t exactly know how this all works, I have a feeling I need to give him more background information than that. “He’s Andi’s ex, and he’s a bad fucking dude.”
“How bad are we talking?”
I look around to make sure no one is glancing in our direction. “If he finds her, I think he’ll kill her…” My voice trails off as I think about Brooks’s hands on my girl. I know I can keep her safe, but there will be times when my eyes can’t be on her, and those are the times he’d most likely strike.
Russell doesn’t show any signs of concern, which tells me this isn’t the first Brooks he’s dealt with.
“We left New York City without a trail,” I continue, “but I just want to make sure he doesn’t get tipped off. If he comes this way, I want to know. If he so much as types Andi’s name into Google, I want to know.”
&nb
sp; “What else can you tell me about him?”
I slip the piece of paper out of my pocket and hand it to him. On it, I’ve written down everything Andi had told me about Brooks—his address, place of employment, and date of birth. Right below his information is Camille’s address, her place of employment, and both of her telephone numbers.
“Who’s the chick?” he asks. “His girlfriend?”
“She’s Andi’s best friend. Andi trusts her, so I doubt Camille would leak anything, but I can’t count on that. Threats make people do some fucked up things.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” He sticks the paper into his pocket. “How much does this chick know? That you’ve moved? Your new address?”
“She only knows that we left town. Not where and not how. Andi uses a burner phone when she talks to her. I change the phone at least once a week. Same with Andi’s email address. Their conversations are short, just long enough for Camille to know Andi is okay.”
“Good. Make sure to keep it that way, too. I’ll check things from the back end and see what I can find.”
I wrap my hands around the paper cup, lightening my grip when the top almost pops off. “I want to know everything, Russell. I mean, everything.”
“Who’s my client? You or Andi? I need to know who I’m sharing the information with.”
I really have to think about his question. I don’t want to hide this from Andi, but is there really a need to burden her with it? If Russell gives me the information first, I can decide how much news to tell her based on how bad it is. I want her anxiety to go away. I don’t want to add to it.
“I’m your client. Not Andi.”
“Works for me.”
I finally take my first sip. “What do you charge for this kind of stuff?”
“Since we work together, I’ll cut you a deal. Call it my you’d-better-keep-your-mouth-shut special. I only work at the bar so that I have a job on the books. I’m trying to buy a house, and the IRS wouldn’t be too thrilled if I paid for it in cash. No one at the bar can know what I do.”
When I found him writing code, Dane and I were the only ones at the bar, and Dane was locked in his office. Most people wouldn’t have bothered to look at Russell’s screen when delivering a drink he hadn’t asked for. But being on the run had taught me a few things—and I wasn’t most people.
“I have no reason to out you,” I say. “Especially when you have so much shit on me.”
Something tells me that’s part of the reason he researched me first. The best way to make sure someone doesn’t rat is to have a secret on them.
“How about this? If I find what you’re looking for and I keep doing what I like to call maintenance, which would be continuously monitoring his activity, then I’ll do the whole thing for a grand. After six months, if you still need it, I’ll charge you a few hundred a month. But, if I don’t find anything, you won’t owe me a thing.”
“Deal.” I take out my wallet. “You want a deposit, so you know I’m good for it?”
He shakes his head. “I can make your life a living hell. Far worse than what’s already gone down. So, I’m not really worried about you fucking me over.”
I wonder what he can do that hasn’t already been done. My real name is trashed. I have no access to my money or my previous life. I can’t even shave my face.
And then it hits me.
It’s Andi.
I just told him my weakness, the only thing in my life that matters.
The thought of him laying even a finger on her makes me want to flip over this table and grab him by the throat. But all he gave me was a warning of what would happen if I didn’t pay. I’m good for the money, so it will never be an issue.
“How long will it take you?” I ask.
“Will you be working tomorrow night?”
“Yeah.”
“If I find something, I’ll bring it then.”
I stick my wallet back in my pocket. “I’ll be getting a new burner before my shift tonight. When you get a random text, it’s just me giving you my new number.”
“You’re just gonna keep running, man?”
Do I really have any other choice?
What worries me is that I’m not running alone now. It sure as hell isn’t fair to drag Andi into this, to know that I’ll have to relocate her again within the next six months, that the home she’s starting to feel comfortable in will be gone. She was a wreck about coming to Miami. Do I have it in me to make her feel that way again?
The alternative is something I can’t even wrap my head around.
“I don’t know,” I finally answer, pulling the hat further down on my forehead and standing from the booth. “It’s the only thing I can do for now.”
Russell’s phone lights up on the table, and he slides his finger across the screen. He has a smartphone. Apps. A number that doesn’t have to be changed every few weeks. I didn’t even realize I’d missed those things until now.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he says, pulling my attention back to him.
“Yeah. Tonight.”
He pounds my fist, and I carry the coffee outside, deciding to walk back to our place instead of taking a cab. It isn’t far, less than twenty blocks, and the sidewalks are fairly quiet. Miami isn’t quite the walking city that New York is, and it’s so goddamn hot here. When we left Manhattan, it was freezing. I had to be careful not to slip on the black ice when I ran at night. But here, the sun is beating through my clothes. I can feel my arms starting to tan, and I push the hat down even lower, so I don’t have to squint.
We haven’t really done much since arriving in Miami. Besides a few quick dinners and some shopping, we’ve mostly stayed in our apartment. I need to change that. It’s still so early, and we don’t have to be at work for another several hours, so there’s no reason we can’t go out. I want her to enjoy the sunshine. I want to see a smile on her lips—one that isn’t caused by my mouth pressing against some part of her body.
The thought of her in a bikini makes me rush home.
“You’re awake,” I say, walking over to the table where she’s sitting.
She looks down at her plate of scrambled eggs. “I would have cooked you some, but I thought they would be cold by the time you got back.”
I kiss the top of her head, and she leans her face into my stomach.
“Eat quick. I have plans for us.”
“Plans?”
“They involve sand and water and sun.”
She looks up. “You’re taking me to the beach?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it’s safe?”
She’s always so worried. It makes me want to wrap my arms around her and promise her so many things. But consoling her will only bring out more of her emotions. Andi needs me to show her that we are safe, not tell her.
“Put on that bikini you bought, and we’re going to do some swimming.”
She laughs and shovels in a mouthful of eggs. “You mean, you’re going to fuck me in the water.”
Fuck. I love when she says that word.
I cup her face, holding it steady. “I want to take you to the water and show you why it’s my favorite place, and I want to swim with you. I haven’t been swimming since I left Colorado. I think it’s time. I’ve missed it, and my body needs it.” I lean down, moving my lips so close to hers. “But having you in there all wet and mostly naked, I can almost promise how hard I’m going to fuck you.”
Andi
“It’s so full.” When I imagined swimming with Adrian, I didn’t think about the hundreds of other people who would be on the beach. All I could picture was the two of us, wrapped around each other, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the salty water.
“Do you want to leave?” he asks.
I scan every inch of hot sand. All the faces begin to blur, and I can’t tell one from another. It’s like a game of Where’s Waldo? No matter how hard I hunt, I’ll never be able to pick out the one person I’m looking for.
/> “No, I don’t want to leave,” I tell him even though a part of me does want to leave.
There’s plenty of room for us to lay down a blanket and blend in with the rest of the crowd. And I’m sure that’s how everyone else feels—that they’re just one of many, enjoying a relaxing day at the beach. No matter how much I want to blend in and be normal, I still feel completely exposed.
“What if we try the spot by the lifeguard?”
He suggests that particular spot because it’s normally the safest place on the beach. The place swimmers come for help because the lifeguard is the only person who’s ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. No questions asked, they’ll come to your safety, just like Adrian has done for me.
I let Adrian take my hand and guide me to the far side of the lifeguard chair, careful to avoid the shadows behind it where the lifeguard can’t see me.
Once the blanket is in place, Adrian places a flip-flop on each corner, holding it down. He strips off his T-shirt, and with a body like his, he couldn’t go unnoticed if he tried. A few people turn their heads in his direction, but with his beard and sunglasses, they don’t suspect the man underneath to be anyone special.
For a minute, I wonder what it would be like if I dyed my hair and changed the cut. If I did something so drastic to my appearance, I could go wherever I wanted and never be picked out of the crowd. Brooks would be searching for my long dark hair, not a blonde or a fiery redhead. It’s something new to consider.
Adrian tosses his shirt in my bag and kneels in front of me. I’m still sitting in the middle with my clothes on, and my fingernail is getting shredded between my teeth. He doesn’t say a word about me loosening up or relaxing. Instead, he lets me take a moment to get my head on straight, to slow my breathing and get comfortable—well, as comfortable as I’ll ever get out in the open. Because, every time someone walks by, I check for dark hair and menacing eyes.
Five or ten minutes later, I finally get the courage to take my shirt off.
“The red one,” Adrian whispers as he glances at the thin strings holding the triangles in place over my breasts. “Shit, Andi, I’ve been dreaming about seeing you in that suit.”