by Scott, S. L.
Kneeling before me, the hem of my dress slides up. He pushes my legs apart and kisses my inner thighs. “Say it again.”
Hot air coats me, and I repeat, “You’re a part of me, and I’m a part you. There’s no me without you and no you without me. There never will be.” My head falls back and my eyes fall closed. My breath deepens and my chest rises. “Bring on your troubles and lay your darkness down. I’ll take it all if it means I get you.”
“You have me, Firefly. You will always have me.”
Because, love is risky.
And it’s worth it.
12
Alexander
It wasn’t her stubbornness, though I found that intriguing in the most devious of ways. It was the change I saw in Sara Jane, the one I knew was deep inside her all along, waiting to be born, that reaffirmed what I knew the moment I saw her.
Meeting her at my lowest was something I should feel bad about. It didn’t matter though. For whatever reason, she chose to love me. What she didn’t realize was I loved her long before we met. My soul was seeking something deeper, something pure, something it could twist within, molding it to mine. There stood my sweet angel, her halo straight and beaming, a guiding light calling me to her. Her innocence was mine for the taking, and I took.
And took.
But now she’s rewarded with the strength I urged her to find, rampantly coursing through her veins. She would never bow to any man, and would be above all other women. I did that. For her.
Selfishly, for me.
Sara Jane Grayson, the girl, will wither.
Sara Jane Kingwood, the woman, will rise.
The transformation has begun. Last night, she shed her childhood wish of the white picket fence and the predictable husband. I want her by my side to become the man I need to be to take on the life I’ve been given. When I look at her, my beautiful sleeping angel, I know she’ll be right there, as she was meant to be. The day I met her, fate had played its hand, and I won. Now it’s time I return the favor. Leaning down, I slide the hair covering her neck, and kiss her bare skin. “Wake up, Firefly.”
A smile lies lazily on her lips, her eyes still closed. “I think I prefer queen.”
I smack her ass. “Not yet, though you will be. I have no doubt.” Rolling over until my feet land on the carpet, I stand. “Time to get up.”
When her eyes open, I see her search out the clock. “It’s three in the morning.” She rolls over in protest, putting her back to me.
“You said no more secrets.”
“I meant in daylight hours.” Walking to my closet with a smile on my face, I laugh when she catcalls me. “You have the most amazing body.”
“You do. Now stop staring at my ass and get dressed.”
The covers fly from her body, and she sits up just as I disappear to pull a sweatshirt from the shelf, jeans from a hanger, and start getting dressed. When she appears in the closet doorway, she leans against it in a way that makes me reconsider leaving altogether. The curve of her ass, the fullness of her breasts, her hips are womanlier these days. Dirty thoughts run rampant until she asks, “Is something wrong?”
When I look into the depths of her eyes that hold my soul captive, I reply, “Nothing is wrong. Everything is right.”
Her smile outshines the sun at dawn, and she comes to me. Everything I love is wrapped in my arms, naked and bare for me, exposed to the thunderous elements of my raging heart. I’m hoping her goodness far outweighs my bad.
I hate the guilt I feel when I look at her. I met her when she was young enough to fall in love with me. I made her leave me, pushed her so she’d walk away and give herself a chance at happiness. I was cruel, but wanted her to see me for the asshole I was . . . I am . . .
“This house is huge,” Sara Jane notes as we park. I get out. She’s been to my home. She knows my friends have money. Lots of money, but she still seems surprised by the wealth when gawking at the house.
When I take her hand in mine, my fingers wrap around it, reminding me how small she is compared to me. A sinking feeling fills my stomach as I lead my innocent, intelligent, and beautiful girlfriend to the slaughter. I’ve put this off for a long time, but she insisted on meeting my “friends.”
A warning was not enough. They may have money but they aren’t sophisticated. This world is a real life cruel, teen drama. Everybody wants something and is willing to barter, steal, or trade to get it. That includes sex, drugs, and other dirty dealings that would shame their family name if it ever got out. I have a feeling, like me, they didn’t fall far from their family tree. Their parents are just as devious as we are.
I fucked Lanie Monroe’s mother a couple nights before my mother’s funeral. She came over to bring me comfort food but had forgotten the food. She was in her late thirties at the time, and hot as fuck. Her advanced yoga practice was put into use that night. I was a fucking punk and bragged to everyone the next day. Lanie found out and approached me after class. She was waiting at my car, pissed. Not twenty minutes later, I had her bent over a large rock in the woods near campus. I fucked her without regret, never even kissing her. She begged me to tell her she was better. I lied and told her what she wanted to hear.
We’re all fucked up in some way or another, the privileged lives our families afford us dooming us to seek thrills and attention in new ways. I regret how I treated Lanie that day because now I know it was never about her need for attention or the competition with her mother. It was about me and my need to ruin not just my life but everything that came in contact with it. I’ve used my gift in looks as a weapon too many times to count. A great face is like a free pass to destruction.
The moment I laid eyes on Sara Jane, I knew I would never be the same. She’s better than this, better than us. Although she’s gorgeous, it wasn’t just her looks that drew me to her. It’s not just how clever she is that keeps me on my toes. It’s not even her patience, which she seems to have in spades when it comes to me. It’s everything. How do I expose her to this seedy side of people who’ve lost their way, sold their morals for the next hit, and will eat her innocence alive, spitting her out for entertainment?
My feet stop just before we reach the front door. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to dinner and for ice cream after.”
Her hip kicks out and her head tilts as she smiles. “Are you nervous to introduce me to your friends?”
“Barely. They are barely my friends. You’ve met Cruise. You already know Chad. Those are my friends. You are my best friend, so let’s go. Anywhere you want to go I’ll take you.”
“You’re my best friend too, Alexander.” She takes the last step, and nods toward the door. “Come on. I want to see this part of your life.”
. . . I should have never done what I did to her that night. Does heaven operate on credits and debits? Can her kindness wash away my sins? Or am I destined to burn in hell?
She makes it easy to believe I’m not too far gone.
She is still too soft.
Too vulnerable.
Too good.
I kiss the top of her head, knowing I’m not going to stay, although I wish I could for her. The habits are too ingrained in me. A worse one forming now that I’m bringing her with me. It’s a habit I could get used to. “Get dressed,” I say, releasing her and leaving the confines of the closet.
Sitting on the couch, I wait for her to finish getting ready. My attention is drawn toward the bathroom when she asks, “Are we going to be out all night?”
Standing, flaunting my feathers like a damn peacock in pride, I smile. “Not with you looking that edible.”
I receive a smile as reward. “You sure can be charming, Mr. Kingwood, when you want to be.”
“I can be lots of things. Some are just more acceptable than others.”
“It’s too early in the morning to try to decipher your riddles.” She heads for the door. “Come on. The suspense is killing me.”
Meeting her at the door, I open it and wave my arm, gesturing for her
to go first. We make it to the top of the stairs before she stops, looks back at me, and says, “I used to love this place. I thought it was fancy.”
“And now?”
“Now there’s something sinister seeping from the walls. I’m starting to think danger lives in Kingwood Manor.”
My firefly was too smart for her own good. “So you don’t want to live here one day?” I ask, smiling, thrilled the shine has finally worn off. Now she can see things for how they really are. I need to know she’s staying for the right reasons.
She starts down the stairs. “I don’t need all this.” As much as I like her flexing her newfound strength, I like being able to protect her too. I want her strong, but I also want her to need me.
My smile grows. One thing I know about Sara Jane Grayson is that I can offer her the world and she’d only want an acre. One of the many reasons I love her. My smile is wiped away when I hear, “It’s late to be sneaking around, don’t you think, son?”
We both stop a few steps from the bottom and turn toward the living room where the monster himself sits, a tiger baiting his prey.
I take Sara Jane’s hand and reply, “If it was broad daylight, I wouldn’t need to sneak.”
“You’re twenty-two. Sneaking out is for children. You know you can come and go as you please.” His eyes are set on Sara Jane. “I was disappointed you left the party so early.”
She glances to me then back to him, questions in her irises. “I was tired.”
My father looks dissatisfied with her response. Turning his attention back to me, he says, “There were people I wanted you to meet—”
“I brought you Scotch on the rocks, just how you like it.” A woman stops short when she sees us. The lights are dim, but I can tell who it is. She stands between my father and me, and says, “Alex?”
Snapping his fingers, he brings her eyes back to him. “You should go, Carinna.”
Sara Jane’s hand tightens around mine. It’s obvious she recognizes her too. The woman I was talking business with during the party sets a glass down on an antique table next to him. I know he won’t be able to leave it there for long. He reaches for it and says, “Thanks for the drink, sweetheart . . . and the company,” effectively dismissing her.
“You want me to leave at three a.m.?” I’m not surprised she’s insulted.
Sara Jane looks up at me, waiting for me to make the first move. I move down two steps until we’re even and then we walk the rest of the way down together. “Good night, Father. Carinna.”
Behind our backs, Carinna says, “We just had sex, and now you’re kicking me out?”
“It was good. It wasn’t good enough for me to want you to stay.”
I whisk Sara Jane out the front door not wanting her to hear how my father treats the people in his life. I’m not willing to risk her realizing what I’m made of, although from the interactions she has had with him, I think she already knows. Taking her to the garage, I input the code and the sixth garage door rolls open. We stand there side by side in silence. Then she takes a step forward and a few more until she’s standing in front of my newest purchase—a base Harley-Davidson Iron 883 with custom everything. Down to my name, King, embossed into the leather seat. Whipping around to me, she asks, “Is this yours?”
Nodding, I hope she doesn’t kick my ass for not telling her sooner.
She touches the matte black chrome and leather seat, then takes a step back. Closing her eyes, she rubs her temples. When she reopens them, she asks, “I thought the bike was a phase?”
“No.” I keep it simple.
“It looks new.”
“My old bike was run-down, so I replaced it.”
“It looks expensive. This will make you a target for thieves, which doesn’t thrill me, Alexander.”
She thinks riding a motorcycle is risking my life on the regular. We agree to disagree on this, or so I thought, but now she’s throwing in the robbery card. “It was custom-made for me. I couldn’t have designed a better bike.”
Her hand goes to her hip. “I couldn’t have designed a better bike. Alexander, do you hear yourself?” Her sass is bordering between cute and annoyance.
“You think you’re invincible, but you’re not. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’ll never lose me unless you leave. Although, you’re too damn stubborn to take good advice when it’s given.”
The fight leaves her voice, and she moves closer to the bike. “Have you hidden this from me not feeling you could tell me?” Yes, but I can’t tell her that. My firefly always worries about me, my safety. Why would I give her more to worry about?
“I’m trying, Sara Jane.”
She sighs and walks the length of the bike, inspecting it. When she looks up, she asks, “Are we going?”
There’s my feisty little woman. I go to the cabinet, flip my keys from my pocket, and open it. When I turn to her, I present the special helmet I had made for her, approaching with care. She never liked riding a motorcycle, so we always took her car. This time, she doesn’t protest. I slide the shiny black helmet down over her head, and snap the band under her chin. I kiss her nose and then adjust the bike up, lift the kickstand, swing my leg over, and settle on to the saddle. “Hop on.” She does, and readjusts until she’s comfortable and flush against me. Her arms come around my middle. “Hold on tight, okay?”
“Okay.” She leans her cheek against my back and asks, “You still refuse to wear a helmet?”
“I don’t need one.”
“But I do?”
“Yes. I won’t risk your life on a thrill.”
“What about you?”
“I need you to stop worrying about me.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Her response comes quick and definitive, making me smile.
“Hang on tight, Firefly.” I start the bike.
“I’ve been doing that since the day we met.” Despite the rumbling of the loud exhaust, she’s not scared. Her body is relaxed around me, and I cover her hand with mine.
Moving my hands to the handlebars, I wrap my fingers around them firmly, and then take off down the driveway. The gate at the bottom of the property opens wide for us, and we’re off into the night.
Sometimes trust comes in ways that aren’t earned. There’s no reason for Sara Jane to be with me right now. There’s no justification for all the secrets and lies I’ve told her over the years that explains why she shouldn’t dump my ass for good. But something inside me knew she was meant to be mine, something so innately good in her to take the chance. I have no doubt that my mother played a part in putting Sara Jane in my path that day. She has loved me since, without limits, without expectations except to be loved in return. Her forgiving heart allows me to work toward forgiving myself.
When I park a short time later, she sits up, and looks around. Let’s just hope once she sees what’s really going on, she can hold on to that forgiveness.
13
Sara Jane
Holy Shit!
“I can explain,” Alexander says. He’s smart to keep a safe distance behind me.
“You better, and fast because my mind is spinning to assumptions you’re not going to like.”
Surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass walls overlooking what seems like the entire city as their backdrop, my mouth has fallen open from the view, and from the technology that fills this spacious penthouse apartment. Alexander touches my lower back, but I step out of his reach. He knows I’m pissed without the obvious gestures, but I want it to be clear to everyone here. I feel betrayed. I feel betrayed by everyone in this room.
Cruise, Chad, and Shelly remain quiet as they stare at me with wide eyes.
Alexander says, “It started as a small operation and has grown.”
“Grown?” My mind struggles to piece together the puzzle before me. I turn to Shelly, her betrayal and lies cutting me as deep as Alexander’s. “Why are you here?”
The answer doesn’t come fast, her cautiousness taking over.
“It’s not what it—”
“It’s not?” I strike back. “Because this looks exactly like everyone I know was in on whatever this is except me.”
She replies, “I’m only here because most nights this is where Chad stays.” This is where Chad stays. Shelly had the choice to stay with her boyfriend, knowing that night after night, mine left me. What the hell?
“How did I not know about this? How could you lie to my face?”
Standing behind Chad, she looks worried. “I was alone in the apartment anyway. You weren’t there. You were at the manor.”
At the manor—secluded, protected, deceived by everyone around me who I thought were my friends, and by Alexander who I can’t even look at right now. “Locked away like Rapunzel.” I look her in the eyes, but she looks away. “I trusted you. You were my best friend.”
“I still am, Sara Jane. Please,” she says, grasping my arms. “I’m your best friend. Everything was to protect you.”
“While everyone else lived in reality, I’ve been living a charade.”
Shelly knows this is going to take me time and walks away. “I’m sorry,” is mumbled.
Alexander takes my hand and though I try to pull away, he doesn’t let me this time. “You weren’t locked away or living a charade. You chose to see what you wanted.”
“I was blind, but now I see the big picture, and I’m not sure what to think.”
“Don’t jump to judgments.”
“Alexander, stop. Just stop. I don’t need you to fill in every silent second. I need to process that you have some kind of operation setup that could rival the CIA.” Four large desktop computers anchor the room, with three smaller laptops open and running some scanning program. The furniture is leather and sleek, the stark-white kitchen is off to the side with a clear glass table covered in photos laid out like an investigation. Cruise sits quietly in the corner, looking as if we interrupted something but wise to not speak.