On Edge

by Kim Cong

  I didn’t get it. This guy before me who looked like Pax and spoke like Pax, was certifiably fucking insane.

  “I don’t get it. Have you spoken to a doctor? A psychologist?”

  “Jetta…” His voice was a plea. “There is nothing wrong with me. Nothing at all. The doctors know that.”

  “But a psych,” I pressed. “Surely they’d be able to help you get past this. Paxton, this isn’t natural.”

  “Jetta.” His hands came up to grip the sides of my face. “I have a little clock in my head that says this is happening. When we first reconnected it stopped, or slowed or whatever. But then Esso’s call happened and it came back.” His voice broke. “I’m so sorry, Jetta. I’m a selfish bastard. I wanted you without thinking of the future. You shouldn’t have to lose someone again.”

  We both fell silent for a long time. After a few minutes, Paxton withdrew, standing and helping me up. “Let’s go.”

  We were in the car, nearly back to his house, when I finally spoke.

  He was damaged, so much more damaged than I had expected. This unhealthy feeling was breaking him up inside. It explained so much about his house, his life, his relationship with me.

  He saw himself as just biding time until the end. Hence the lack of furniture, the lack of lived-in quality. No pets, no relationships outside his work buddies.

  Addie had said he was broken, and now I knew.

  “I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away, Paxton.” My voice was serious. “If you’re going to die soon, then you should be embracing every moment until it comes.”

  He turned into the drive and hit the garage door opener. Pax parked the car before unhitching his seatbelt and turned to look at me. His face was shadowed, but his eyes glinted through the dark.

  “Why, Jetta? To make it that much harder when I do go?” He sounded weary.

  “No.” I shook my head, unclipping my seatbelt to lean across and touch him. “No. To have no regrets when you leave. To leave those who are left behind knowing that you loved us.”

  “I do.” He leaned forward, sounding desperate. “I love you, Jetta, more than anything in this shitty world. But I can’t put you through this.”

  “I think you don’t get a choice.” I moved back and got out of the car, Pax trailing me. He hit the alarm and we entered. I felt agitated, bemused.

  “You don’t get to choose if I love you or not. Instead, you get me right now. You should be embracing each day. Your timer may be running out—which I think is bullshit, by the way, and you need to talk to someone about that—but right now, you don’t have the right to push me away.”

  His hands came up, holding me still. “I’m trying to be strong here, Jetta.”

  “No, you’re not.” I was brutal. “You’re taking the easy way out, Elliot. I didn’t stop loving you through the silence. I didn’t stop loving you when you pulled me into your house. I fell more in love with you when you took my virginity. I love you even when you’re trying to push me away. That whole trust issue? This right here, proves that I can trust you with not only my body but my heart. Silence, distance, hurt. You can’t turn love off. It doesn’t work like that. You pull your big-man panties on, you look me in the eye and you say I’m going to love you until my last breath. I’m going to love you so thoroughly that when I’m gone you have no doubts, no regrets.”

  I puffed out my chest, crossing my arms. “Ball’s in your court, Elliot.”

  He stood frozen, his hands clenching and unclenching. For long moments, I thought he was going to run.

  “And you won’t regret it when I go?” His voice was barely a whisper.

  “We have no guarantees, Paxton.” I dropped my arms, turning them out to my sides. “I could die tomorrow. Or you could. I’d rather die knowing that you know how loved you are than pissing away time, alone, trying to be this fucking martyr.”

  “No regrets?”

  “None.” I shook my head, firm, confident.

  One moment Paxton was on the other side of the room, the next he was on me. His mouth pressed against my mine in hard, rough desperation. His hands were everywhere, pulling my top off, unhooking my bra, sliding into my shorts.

  I clung to him, letting him take what he needed, greedily receiving what he was giving.

  In between kisses, he whispered words, hot words, naughty words, words that made me weak-kneed and wet.

  And in between licking his chest, biting his bicep and ripping his shirt from his body, I returned the favour.

  By the time we made it to the bedroom, I had three hickeys on my breasts, a hand in my underwear and a desperately hard cock pressing urgently to my inner thigh.

  Bliss.

  “I love you.” The words were followed by hot, wet kisses to my hips, stomach, abdomen. Pax pulled my shorts and underwear off with one hand before rising back up my body. He drew back a little to look me in the eye. “I’m going to love you until I die.” He pressed kisses to my eyelids, reverent, gentle. “I’ll love you after I die.” He pressed harder kisses to my cheeks. “You better start pottery classes now.”

  “Huh?” I pulled back a little, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “Pottery?”

  “Yep.” He nodded, his head dropping closer to my lips. “’Cause I’m gonna go Patrick Swayze ghost on your arse.”

  Laughter exploded from my lips as I pulled him down to meet my kiss. “You’re an idiot.”

  “And you’re the only one for me.” His lips met mine in a brutally punishing kiss. I sank into it, pulling him closer.

  Hands, lips, chests. Every part of us was pressed tightly together.

  Paxton finally lowered me to the bed, his lips still hard on mine, his tongue stroking. I groaned into his mouth as he surged into me. His lips left mine as his head tilted back, exposing his throat to my gaze. “Fuck, Jetta, so fucking good.”

  I pressed kisses to his throat as he started to move.

  Tonight was desperate, life-affirming lovemaking. There was nothing sweet or gentle about it. It was rough, bruising, hard.

  I came and came and came again before finally Paxton tripped over the edge, crashing down on top of me.

  As we lay there after, our bodies sticky with sweat, his lips kept pressing tiny kisses against my shoulder.

  “Elliot?” I was tired, pleasantly sated. Secure and smug in the knowledge that I had gotten through to him, that while he was still damaged, Pax at least let me in.

  “Mmm?” His tongue touched my hot spot. I shivered under him before sighing.

  “I need sleep.”

  “Mmm.” His hips pressed into mine, his erection miraculously recovered.

  “Paxton…” I groaned as he slid into me.

  “Lie back.” His lips pressed to mine. “Just lie back and think of England, Jetta, it’ll all be over soon.”

  “God Save the Queen.” It wasn’t.

  And I didn’t even care.

  Jetta

  Saturday arrived before I could blink. Practice Friday had been fantastic. We’d found our soul, and the last song had been learnt and perfected in the space of forty-eight hours. A fucking miracle.

  I woke from my sleep late Saturday morning. Paxton had kept me up with his desperate lovemaking. He was everywhere now, no longer willing to keep his distance; my permission for him to love me had seemed to set him loose. Friday morning he’d woken me with more kisses, which had rapidly escalated into a shower that had made me more dirty than clean. He’d come to the Arena for lunch, stealing me away to my dressing room to feed me then make me come. He’d sent a salad to me for dinner, a small heart-shaped chocolate in the bag with a note saying he was thinking of tonight. He’d picked me up and taken me home, one hand running small erotic circles along my inner thigh as he drove. We’d made fierce love against the wall of his garage, against his entryway and into his bedroom.

  Which led to this morning. Or nearly this afternoon.

  I wasn’t due at the arena until two. A luxury considering the last few days.
I was surprised it was so late and he wasn’t with me. I headed for the living room and through the glass doors saw him swimming. Smiling at the sight of his arms powering strongly through the water, I headed back to shower and dress.

  I was in the kitchen when he finally finished. He paused in the doorway and I had a sense of déjà vu. For a moment, my heart skipped a beat, wondering if we were back to the idiocy of Wednesday.

  But Pax smiled, his grin pure sex. “Hey, princess.” I felt my panties burn right off.

  “Elliot.” I brought the coffee cup to my lips, taking a sip, telling my girl parts to settle. “How’s it hanging?”

  “Straight up and pointed at you.” His reply was quick, naughty. I laughed, delighted.

  “You are a bad boy, Paxton Elliot. What would your mother say?”

  He shrugged. “Ask her when you see her. You’ll see them in about twenty.” With that he walked to the bathroom.

  I froze, glancing at the clock. It was a few minutes before midday. The house was clean but not ‘I’m living with your son and this is the first time you are coming over to ensure that I am looking after him appropriately’ clean.

  I panicked. Magazines, letters, bills, and music sheets were snatched up and shoved into whichever drawer was the closest. I found the feather duster and made quick work of the small number of surfaces Paxton had, for the first time immensely pleased that his house was not yet filled with homey things.

  I was madly sweeping the floors when Paxton re-entered the room.

  “Princess, do not tell me we’re back to the other day.” His voice was stern, serious.

  “Pax!” I threw a hand about, indicating the room. “Your parents will be here any minute and the floors haven’t been washed!”

  “What are you on about?” He walked over, relieving me of the broom mid-sweep.

  “What do you mean, what am I—” His mouth hit mine and I struggled, still in panicked parents-are-on-their-way mode.

  “Settle, Jetta. We’re going out for lunch. Then we’re going to the Arena. Okay?”

  “So they’re not coming in here?”

  “No.” He smiled, dropping the broom and wrapping me in his arms. “No, they’re not. So get your shit.” He pressed a kiss to my lips, softening his words. “And we’ll head off.”

  I sighed and relaxed into him. “Sorry for being a psycho.”

  “Don’t apologise for caring.” His voice was soft and the look he gave me was amazing. I felt myself melt. “But for reference? They already love you. You really don’t need to put any extra effort in.”

  I shrugged. “It’s who I am, Pax. I want them to be happy with the woman you’ve chosen. With our relationship.”

  He laughed. “Princess, they’re fucking ecstatic.” He kissed my lips. “And even if they weren’t, I am, and that is all that matters.”

  Lunch with Ross and Kathy was much like I expected. Both were happy to see me, pulling me into warm, tight hugs and pressing kisses to my cheek. We were dining at the Cupping Room, a cute cafe with a delicious menu and coffee so good it was criminal.

  Pax had one arm around my chair for the majority of the meal, mimicking the way his dad was with his mum. In my head, I entertained visions of our future together. Brunches with his parents, Courtney coming to visit or even moving back to Canberra. Our children running around being little terrors.

  I mentally drew little love hearts with Paxton n Jetta 4eva scrawled inside as cute diaper-clad cupids flutter around shooting love arrows straight at me.

  “So are you moving in, Jetta?” Kathy’s question startled me out of my wedding planning. For the record, it was a wedding in the pine forest at the local Arboretum, followed by a ten-course sit-down meal with paired cider and wine at their function venue. I would wear an oyster lace dress, Pax a sharp suit—no tux—and we’d dance to Luc’s band playing blink-182’s, All the Small Things.

  “Am I moving in where?”

  Kathy laughed. “Don’t play coy with me. You children are meant to be together. Has Pax asked you to move in yet?”

  I glanced at Pax, who was looking down at me, his eyebrow raised.

  “What?”

  “I’m down with it if you want to move in.” He reached for the coffee cup, all casual and not at all like this was a major step forward.

  “Umm…” I looked back over at Kathy and Ross, who were smiling at me encouragingly, then back up to Pax, who had the hint of a smile on his face. “Ummm… I guess. I guess yes.”

  Kathy clapped her hands, delighted. “I’m so pleased! I’ve been on his case for years, years! About making sure you were okay, catching up. And now here you are.” Her eyes got suspiciously wet. “Together.”

  “Don’t let her plan your wedding.” This came from Ross, who was scraping at the last bits of tomato and egg on his plate. “She’s already got a mother of the groom outfit picked out.” Kathy made a noise, but didn’t deny anything.

  Paxton started shaking with suppressed laughter beside me. He coughed to cover it.

  A quick glance at the clock above the bar said we should be going.

  “Pax?”

  “Right.” He coughed again, smile still in place. “Sorry to cut this short, but Jetta’s got to be going.”

  “Of course, Paxton.” His mum and dad stood as we got to our feet. They came around, again pressing kisses and enveloping me in hugs.

  “I am just so pleased you two are together.” Kathy whispered these words into my ear as she hugged me tight against her. “He’s different with you. You make him smile.”

  I withdrew, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Kathy-”

  “No.” She reached out, squeezing my hands. “Let this old mum have a little joy. Ten years of watching my baby withdraw into himself; today was the first time I felt like I’ve got him back.”

  I shut my mouth and gave her a weak smile. She doesn’t know. A quick glance at Ross showed that he was also unaware of the constant darkness that Paxton fought against. Of that stupid countdown clock in his head. They don’t know.

  We farewelled and headed for the car. As Pax took the highway to the Arena I sorted out my thoughts. After this was over, after Esso was taken down and the tour was done, Paxton and I were going to see someone. I didn’t care if it took years. We were getting him to the point where he didn’t have that little clock inside him.

  We arrived and Pax walked me in. He was on security at the arena tonight with his guys. The AFP were on board for the takedown.

  Shit was going to get real.

  As we entered the cooler interior of the building, I noticed Pax tense. His jaw was hard, his shoulders tight, everything about him had a fuck-off vibe.

  “Pax?” I stopped him with a light pull. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  I reached up and cupped his jaw. “Don’t lie, what’s up?”

  He sighed, pulling me into him. “Jetta, seriously? Esso is going to go down tonight. I’m in charge of my team.”

  “Okay.” I gave him a quick hug. “But it’ll all work out. I don’t think you should worry so much.”

  He laughed, releasing me. “Princess, it’s my job to worry.”

  He handed me off to the sound guys, who ran through the final checks. Marco and Anthony had already done their rounds. Once the guys said I was sweet, so I headed backstage to get ready. It was about five by then and the place was swarming with media, crew and security.

  My dressing room was filled with people. Addie, Kel, and Jarrett had all arrived and were eating the complimentary buffet that had been laid out. I greeted them with smiles and hugs, pleased they’d come.

  A make-up artist sat me down and began to do my face as the hair stylist came up, tsking me on my ponytail.

  The concert was kicking off at seven with a local band doing the opening act. We were on from seven forty-five.

  By six, they’d finished my hair and face and handed me over to the stylist while Addie, Jarrett, and Kel all cracked jokes and generally e
ntertained.

  The stylist decked me out in a knee-length black dress. It tied at my waist with a nice shiny silver belt, and buttoned at the front. She left the top three buttons open, which bared only the tiniest hint of cleavage. It had three-quarter-length sleeves and a tiny cute collar. She paired it with brown knee-high cowboy boots. The whole look was slightly country-rock but gorgeous.

  I exited the bathroom and the group applauded, catcalling.

  “Awww, yeah! Sexy lady!” Kel growled at me, laughing. Addie wolf whistled while Jarrett applauded, making kissy noises.

  “Aww, shucks, you guys.” I flicked a hand at them while spinning a little. The dress had a small twirl but didn’t fly up to show the boy-leg panties I was wearing underneath. Thank the good Lord for small mercies.

  My face was made up similarly to the photoshoot: deep smoky eyes, dark red lips, dramatic cheekbones. My long hair was braided over my forehead and then down and around. It was complicated, impossible for me to replicate, and looked amazing.

  I glanced at the clock. “Oh, God. It’s nearly time.” As I spoke, I could hear the crowd above us roar and in the next breath the opening act started.

  “Ladies.” The make-up artist smiled. “And gentleman. I believe that is our cue.” Everyone jumped up and rushed about and before I could plead with them to stay, they were out the door, yelling good luck and hurrying to get upstairs.

  And I was alone and suddenly frozen in fear.

  I was hyperventilating by the second song of the opening act.

  By the fourth song, I’d fallen to my backside and pressed myself under the make-up table.

  “I am... responsible. I am rational. I am reason—” The roaring of the crowd pushed me over the edge. My head curled into my knees, my arms wrapped around my legs. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but feel absolute terror.