A few don’t hold my attention but others that haunt me. It’s the ones of Madison, high, tossed, and in the arms of the guys on my team, assholes I’ve warned her to stay away from. It’s clear they’re making out and maybe more. Lip locked and lost, she’s looking for them to solve her problems. I don’t focus on that as much the fact that I don’t want them touching her.
That’s my girl they’re touching. That’s the girl I made a backseat promise of forever with. The one I had wrapped around my side all of high school. The one I run to when nothing else makes sense and she gives me what I need.
I close my eyes and when I open them, there’s more to my right. These hurt worse because she’s half naked in them and it’s Jay’s lap she has her head in. Jay. That fucking drug dealer. The one I’ve told her to stay away from. Begged her to. For three years she’s left me hanging, wondering, and wishing she’d see that I would always be there for her. And what am I given? I’m handed this shit.
I don’t want to see what I see. It’s a soul-crushing pain. A breath-stealing and heart-shattered love gone with the bend in the road.
I look away, the images disappear, but I know I’ll never forget them and I soar out of control, maybe further than ever before at what I’ve seen.
It’s hours later, maybe longer, and I’m in a low-lit bathroom feeling lost with a cheerleader. I’m taking my need with a girl who only wants my dick. I don’t even know her name. She doesn’t care who I am or what I want, she just wants what her tossed body is craving. She reaches for me, dancing around in the small space, looking for a reason to break my faith more than it has been broken.
I’m not this guy.
I don’t search for this shit to satisfy me.
There’s only one who can do that for me. If this girl knew how fucked up I really am, she wouldn’t give me the time of day. She gets my belt buckle undone and goes to push them down when I step back.
Rap music pulses, the wall vibrates against my back as I stumble showing this cheerleader my own dance moves.
By the look in her eyes, she knows who I am.
She blushes when the realization hits her.
A giggle captures my attention, my head snaps up. A smile breaks across my face, my mouth searches hers.
Look at this girl, she’s willing and I’m wasted. What frustrates me is that all these girls are all over me except for the one who covers my heart with the dark shadow of her avoidance.
When I look at this girl, whatever her name is, she knows I’m king and would suck my dick in a heartbeat.
Why can’t I just do it?
My hands move and cup her ass, her legs wrap around me instantly.
I want this. I want to fuck this girl against the door.
I want this.
I do.
My dick rubbing against her confirms this. She wraps her legs tighter, grinding against my straining erection.
It feels good, it feels so fucking good.
My body arches at the contact, I feel shivers run up my spine and it makes me press against her, my belt digging into her. It’s a hungry kiss that never feels like enough, never satisfying, a needing touch that gets to be too much. My arms wrap around her waist and cling to her, pushing her down on my erection again. She pulls away just enough reaching between us. She’s got my jeans undone all the way now, her hand slips inside to palm my dick.
Pulling back, I look at the girl, blonde hair and begging blues shine back. I don’t want that.
Where’s that dark hair that hides what the world can’t see?
Where’s the lifeless blues I die to save?
Fuck Madison.
FUCK her and the way she controls me.
Happiness shouldn’t be hard. It shouldn’t be achieved in anger, or when your blood finally turns to alcohol and you can’t deal until you’re craving what shouldn’t be. I need more of her like I always do. She fucking controls me and I hate her for it.
I hate the control.
My heart starts pounding in my chest, the bile rises.
With a gasping breath, I step back away from the girl. “I can’t.”
I don’t wait for an answer, a plea, nothing, I back away and button my jeans, my hands on the counter. I grip it, so hard I wish it could ease the pain. It won’t, I could tear the world apart and it wouldn’t matter. I could destroy it, nothing would matter.
I start shaking, my body trembles with an ache I know only one can cure.
It’s pouring outside, rain pelting my face and soaking my t-shirt. I don’t care. I still walk in the rain.
Before I know it, I’m on the third floor and approaching her door, my shoes squeaking on the concrete floor. Taking my phone from my pocket, I send Madison a text.
You up?
She answers right away. It’s locked. Hold on.
My shoulder hits the wall, I lean into the door waiting for her to unlock it. A couple holding hands and beer passes by me. I don’t give them the time of day, even though they bump my shoulder and congratulate me on the season though we lost last night.
Fuck football at this point.
I’m angry.
So fucking angry.
I know I should have known that she was this girl but the fact that she kept stringing me along, that has me so pissed.
I thought it was more.
That’s my problem. I thought.
When Madison opens the door, she’s dressed in my jersey from freshman year… yeah, the one she stole, and it’s a fading fucking reminder of what we used to be. I want to rip it off her body like she rips my heart out.
When I step inside, she’s not looking at me and she won’t. She barely ever does.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice is low and hushed as she reaches to close the bathroom door.
I step inside raising an eyebrow at her, but I don’t look up, I can’t. The thump is louder, her proximity is suffocating. We don’t touch as I speak. “You don’t want me here?”
She shakes her head, hopeless eyes fail to find anything they’re looking for. Slumped shoulders give way and she wraps her arms around me bringing our bodies together. Her hands slide over my wet shirt, catching as it clings to my body. She kisses down my jaw until her lips find mine. She captures me, right then, consuming me with her kisses. Our lips never fumble, maybe frustrated we can never get close enough, but they’re sure kisses that designate what we are, for the briefest moment.
We’re this, right here, right now.
A three AM text and no questions, only mumbled words of acceptance.
I’m here for something and she knows it, her mouth finds mine again fisting her hands in my t-shirt, pulling me into her. We stumble, the wall meets her back and I’m dying, falling, soaring into the high only she can give me. I close my eyes and ignore the thump in my chest, ignore the fact that’s she’s never gonna love me the way I love her.
It’s just not going to happen.
Ever.
Stop beating. Stop believing in anything but never.
The moment her tongue meets mine, I can’t breathe again. I’m screaming in pain that she can’t see what she does to me, how she makes me feel.
We fall against her bed and I don’t even look to see if Jenny can see us. I’m too far gone now. I need to be inside Madison and feel. Feel something.
My teeth sink into the tender skin of her neck as I’m held up by one hand, undoing my jeans and ripping her underwear aside. It’s impatient hands and intensity I only feel with her, a burn she knows, a burn she gives. I hear the tear of fabric and I don’t even bother pulling my jeans all the way down.
I’m too consumed.
I just get them to my knees and plunge inside her in my next movement. It feels so good that I’m almost forgetting what I’ve done.
I know my mistake right away though. The last thing we need is a baby.
I pull out, though my body screams for me to continue. My hands are shaking, trembling with desire and hurt, I reach inside her nightstan
d and see only one condom in there. I ignore the fact there’s a fucking baggie of cocaine in there too.
I ignore that because of the way that missing condom splits my goddamn chest open.
It slaughters me and takes my breath and heart with it.
It’s done beating.
Two days ago when I fucked her last, there were three. I used one.
Where’s the other?
My eyes sweep to hers over my shoulder, she’s not looking at me. Her eyes are on the wall.
I’m pissed, my anger is evident in my eyes and the way my body tenses, but I don’t stop.
I can’t now.
I won’t.
My jaw clenches, my heart cracks, my hand goes to her hip and I force myself inside her after I get the condom on. Her body tenses around me, her eyes on mine. She can feel the cold radiating from them. It gives her chills that freeze these blue eyes I want to sink into everyday but know they never feel.
She feels something now.
She knows I know in that moment.
Fuck you, Madison. Fuck you for breaking me.
Her hands clench my back and try to bring me closer, but I don’t go. She needs to see this. She needs to see that she’s fucking wrecking me. She’s destroyed everything about me.
She’s done this.
Fucking take it. See what you’ve done.
“You’re killing him. You. Are. Killing. Him.”
You are. You did.
You. You. You.
Why not me? Why is it always you?
Why can’t you see me! Why can’t you love me?
I’m having a hard time controlling myself and if I wanted to, I could come with each thrust, but I don’t. I’m holding on because she’s letting go. Someone has to hold on. In so many ways she’s letting go.
And this time… this time I’m letting go.
I try to be gentle but I can’t. Not now. She wants what I’m feeling and I’m hurting.
I give it to her. I cover her body with mine, my belt digging into her thighs. With a gasp, she spreads them wider allowing me to fuck her harder. I raise up on my hands and watch, as much as it hurts to do so. A breathtaking beauty only she holds. A power she’s had over me but this king is letting go.
Her hair’s fanned on the white pillow that captures the tears falling, her eyes closed off and forced open when I grunt and move my hand. It captures a handful of hair and pulls, but she doesn’t wince, only watches me. She knows I’m angry and I’m sure she knows why. She has to but I’m not stopping.
Beat motherfucker. Beat now. Breathe now.
Madison moans and her chest rises off the bed, a soft scream falls from cherry red soaked lips that know mine as I rock against her, searching for need. She claws at my skin, breaking me, ripping me open with her force. I feel her everywhere that it’s overwhelming and consuming. She’s like a forbidden fruit. A death sentence.
How can she do this? Why? Why me?
I blink, it’s slow. My glare is so dark she shivers. I don’t hold back. I can’t. Not anymore.
She knows what this is so I fuck her like she wants. Like she expects me to. I don’t stop either. Even when she tells me it’s too much. I don’t stop because deep down, she fucking wants it.
“Feel what I feel.” I whisper harshly, moving my mouth to hers. I take her breath and break her soul. “Fucking feel it… ”
Her body sobs, I shake, my body begs to release. I’m holding on, I’m lasting this time, anger is the only thing keeping me here, keeping me from finishing and being done with it. I should be done with it, I shouldn’t have started but I won’t fucking stop myself now.
My body breaks out in sweat, my hips slide against hers, rocking, shaking, consumed. Reaching down I take her right leg higher and angle myself inside her, our hips grinding against each other, deeper, letting her feel what I’m taking.
She screams out this time, her head thrown back so I can see her neck straining, her heart pounding, and I know Jenny’s awake now. I don’t give a fuck.
I.
Don’t.
Fucking.
Care.
This is me. This is what I’m left with. I’m the light and she’s the dark. Together we’re a hurricane destroying love in our path. She’s the wind, I’m the rain. She’s knocking over trees, I’m uprooting them.
Jenny turns on the bathroom light, I don’t stop.
See what this girl does to me. I want the world to see. I want the world to hurt like I do. Crack and bleed like I do. Die like I do.
They see me as strong, that king, that motherfucking saint who leads them. I’m none of that in the presence of Madison Thomas.
“Jesus, you two! I can hear you next door.” Jenny grumbles, still inside the bathroom but looking around the corner. “It’s three in the morning!”
She’s always fucking spying on us. I know she watches and this time, maybe I’ll give her something to see.
Maybe.
Slowly I turn my head, my eyes rake over Jenny’s body as she hides half inside the bathroom, half outside, all the while, I don’t stop from moving in and out of Madison.
It feels so fucking good and I’m not stopping.
But I do watch Jenny for a minute and her reaction to what I’m doing. I’m not sure what she sees in my eyes but she gasps, her hand raises to her mouth and she backs away inside the bathroom and closes the door.
Madison’s hand raises and brings my face back to hers. I can’t give her my kiss. She doesn’t deserve that from me right now. She takes too much already.
We stare. We shatter. We’ve been destroyed.
That’s it. Take it. Take what you want from me because you know there’s nothing left.
My eyes squeeze shut and I know she sees the pain, it’s falling from me and landing on her heart where I’m no longer held, a wetness that doesn’t dry, a river that flows to nowhere, an ocean that breathes and crashes, a sea that storms and sinks ships. She turns her head, she doesn’t want to see the pain she caused.
She wants my pain.
She wants me to fuck her, take her body in the ways I want, the only ways she gives me.
I do. I fuck her harder than ever before. It’s enough that I know she’ll have bruises—and for a moment—I don’t care.
I want her to feel what I’m feeling.
For once.
Forever.
I can hear the rain hitting the window above her bed and it almost makes me smile that while it’s storming outside, it’s storming in here, the darkest ways.
When I come, I fall against her chest, my body shaking with sobs that aren’t just from pleasure. They’re from the pain of knowing that beat’s gone. Tears soak her neck, bathe her skin in acid as she cries too. My hands curl around the back of her shoulders, slamming her into my last thrust. It’s the last light of day crumbling, a backseat promise destroyed, freedom and innocence ruined by choices she made.
I’m panting as I pull away. I don’t look at her, I can’t. My left hand reaches between us removing the condom. I toss it in the trash next to her bed and lean to the side to get my jeans up around my waist. My chest heaves with labored breaths as I reach for my t-shirt beside me. Sitting up on my knees I look down at her, my jersey pushed up around her breasts, her legs spread open, her forearm over her face. She’s crying. She’s sobbing so bad her body is curled up, the muscles in her stomach clenching.
I’m too fucked up to care. It doesn’t change anything.
I swallow over my tears, wipe my forearm over my eyes and move to sit on the edge of the bed facing the Oregon Ducks poster on her wall. It’s one of me holding a football in the air when they announced me as starting quarterback my freshman year. It makes me sick that she has that up and fucks other guys in this same bed.
Madison curls into herself facing the wall, her bare ass visible now. My eyes travel the length of her body and then crash. Hanging my head, my body wants to collapse right next to her, beg her to take this pain she caused away. I si
t there for a second, gasping, trying to leave. When I hear her cries, the ones that shake the bed, like she’s starting to hyperventilate. I stand wiping my hands over my eyes once more and make the ten steps to the door. I look back, she’s not watching me leave. She can’t. Maybe it’s breaking her too.
Why not me?
Why is it always you?
Why can’t you see me!
Why can’t you love me?
When she hears the door open, Jenny looks to me, her head peeking around the corner of the bathroom again, as I stand at the door zipping, buttoning and righting my belt. She’s shocked at what she’s seen.
Never would someone expect to see Cash Bryant like this.
I don’t care. Fuck her, too.
I get just outside her dorm and across the courtyard before I throw up. Not only from the liquor but the wrenching pain in my gut that’s consuming me. What. Have. I. Done?
My mind flashes with memories as I stare at the ground. I remember flag football for kisses and grape Jolly Ranchers shared outside school waiting for the bus. I remember check yes or no and praying for yes.
I don’t want to remember tonight.
It hurts to remember.
Hurting makes you do stupid shit. Makes you love people you shouldn’t. Makes you lie to your heart. Fuck her. Fuck her for being stupid, tasting like grape Jolly Ranchers and sweet sugar lips. Fuck her bleachers and the way she kissed me after that championship game. Fuck that night. Fuck the ring I still have, and most of all, fuck her for killing me when she does, fuck my text messages and those three AM blue-lit mornings.
November 26, 2013
I haven’t calmed down from the other night. In fact, I’m worse now with rage than I was that night. If that’s possible at this point.
I suppose that’s mostly because of who’s in my face right now and it’s been a rough fucking month.
“Where was Madison last night?” Colton teases.
I close my eyes willing myself not to react. Fucking asshole.
Don’t turn around.
Don’t.
I take my pads off and toss them aside, on the ground at my feet, I don’t bother even looking at him. “On my dick, why?” I mumbled running my hands through my sweat soaked hair.
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