“Who’s body is this?” He growls the question, but it isn’t harsh.
“It’s yours. Take it,” I yell, scratching his back, begging him to do as I say. I want him to take me in every way possible.
“Fucking right it is,” he says, punctuating it with a hard thrust that has me seeing stars. “And I plan on taking it. Over, and over, and over.”
He thrusts faster and I know it won’t be long before I fall over the cliff into ecstasy.
“Come for me, Harlow. Give me what you kept from me for so long. Give me what’s mine.”
Like a slave to him, I obey. The sound of his voice and the meaning of his words do me in and I come harder than I ever thought a woman could come. It feels like my whole body is being ripped in half but I don’t want it to end. It’s the most pleasant pain I’ve ever felt.
Screaming out his name with my release, I hear him grunt and follow me into bliss. And suddenly I know without a doubt I will never be able to live my life without him. He is it for me. If he was no longer a part of this world, I would cease to exist as well. It’s like that saying in one of my favorite movies, Backdraft—“You go, we go.” If he dies, I die with him. It may not be the same moment or same way, but I know that I would soon follow. And written on my death certificate, the cause of death will state a broken heart.
After he comes, he drops his weight on me completely, but it feels good to be smothered by him. It makes me feel like no matter what, he won’t ever let me go.
When he finally moves off of me, he rolls onto his side and pulls me right up against him so my back is to his front. I hope he does this for the rest of my life, because it makes me feel cherished. I love the way he wraps his arms around me and even though we’re just lying here, he squeezes me like he’s afraid if he doesn’t hold on tight, I’ll disappear. I guess I’m to blame for that fear, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he knows I’m here to stay, that I’m his.
I don’t know how long we lay there, just basking in each other’s company, but when I finally speak, my voice is hoarse from being silent for so long. And I’m sure all my moaning and screaming out Louie’s name probably didn’t help either.
“I have something I need to do.” After my dream, I know what I have to do, but I want Louie with me. I need him to help me through this. I know it’s going to be very hard for me to do. I can’t do it alone.
“Okay. Do you want me to go with you?” he asks, seemingly reading my mind.
“Yes.” I untangle myself from his arms and get out of bed. Grabbing a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, I look back to where he still lays.
“Are you coming?”
“I just did, and I plan to come again and again and again…” he says with a sexy smirk, letting the sentence drop off.
His comment makes me giggle, and it feels good knowing I can smile and be happy even though what I’m about to do is going to be hard.
“Ha ha. You’re hilarious.” Rolling my eyes, I try to keep my smile hidden but it’s no use. This man makes me smile when I thought there was nothing left in this world that could make me happy. I walk toward the door and say over my shoulder, “Now get the fuck up and meet me in the living room.” There’s no malice in my voice so he knows I’m not mad, but I said it with enough urgency that he knows to get a move on.
I head right toward the kitchen, knowing I’ll need something to calm me, so I grab a coffee mug down and fill it with water before putting it in the microwave. I think this is a situation that calls for tea, not coffee. I’ll be jumpy enough, no need to add loads of caffeine on top of it.
Louie comes strutting out of the room as I’m adding sugar to my tea. When he reaches me, he leans down and kisses my head before grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. “So where are we going?”
I take a small sip of my tea, then look at him. “Nowhere.” I love messing with him and only giving him one word answers. I know it pisses him off because he has to be in the know about everything. We used to play around like this all the time and it feels nice to get back into our old routines of goading each other.
“Now who’s the funny one? But seriously, where are we going?”
“I am being serious. We aren’t going anywhere.”
“Okay, well if we don’t have any place to be, what was is it that you have to do that couldn’t wait?”
Wanting to stall, even a little bit, I take my tea and head into the living room, but don’t sit down. Instead, I turn to look at Louie and motion him over to the couch. Without further prompting, he sits down and waits. I guess it’s now or never.
“Before my brother killed himself, he wrote me a letter. When I arrived at the hospital, the police officer who was handling the case said that they found it on him. It was addressed to me. I never read it.”
He quietly contemplates what I just shared, then speaks. “So I’m guessing you want to read the letter now.” It’s not a question, but I nod to answer anyway.
“Why now? Why today? What changed your mind?”
I think about my answer before I speak. I don’t want him to think I’m crazy when I tell him about my dream, but that is the reason, so I guess he deserves to know.
“I had a dream last night,” I say, then walk over to a box that I never unpacked. No matter where I went or how long I stayed here, I never have unpacked it. It’s full of things I couldn’t leave behind that belonged to my brother. I don’t even remember what’s all in there. After I packed it that day, I just put the box in my front seat whenever I was on the road, and kept the box close by wherever I was staying. It was like that box signified my brother and he was always with me.
But it’s time I finally open it. Maybe put some of the things around my apartment so there’s a part of Hendrix here, and whenever I walk through the door, I’ll be able to see them. But first, I need to open the letter he wrote me. His goodbye letter.
Opening the box, the letter sits on top of everything. Grabbing it without looking at anything else, I walk back over to the couch and sit down beside Louie.
“I had a dream last night. At first, I thought it was just like the one I have every night where Hendrix begs me not to leave him and I do it anyway. He cries and begs me not to go, to take him with, but I don’t even turn around to face him. I just leave. But something was different this time. Instead of me leaving him behind, I turned around to finally face him.” I pause for a minute, trying to gather myself before continuing.
“It was so real, Louie. It was like he was really there in my dream, the real him, not just some figment of my imagination, ya know? He came to me last night and spoke to me. He said he was okay and that I had to let him go. That it was time to move on.”
It still pains me a little to think about letting him go, but I know now that it is what has to be done. And just because I finally accept his fate, that’s he’s really gone for good, that doesn’t mean that I’ll forget him. If anything, this will allow me to stop all my negative thoughts where he’s concerned and let the light and good memories back through again. And fuck, have I missed those memories of my brother.
“He told me that I needed to read his letter. He knew I hadn’t read it, Louie, that’s how I know this was real, that it was him. I haven’t been able to bring myself to read that letter, afraid about what it would say and angry that he wrote me a letter instead of telling me in person. But it’s finally time to put those fears and angry thoughts behind me. To put this whole thing behind me. I need to read his letter, but I can’t do it by myself.”
Without me even asking him, he takes me in his arms and lets me know that he’s here for me. We stay like this, locked in this soothing embrace, for what feels like hours, but I’m in no rush to move. Maybe we can stay just like this while I read my brother’s note.
Thinking about it now, and having it in my hand, I become afraid again. There’s no anger this time, just pure fear of what’s inside. Is it something I really want to know?
Louie must feel
me tense, because he pulls away just enough to look in my eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be right here beside you. I’m not going anywhere. You can read his letter and then I can help you start healing.”
“I-I’m scared,” I whisper, feeling tears start to fall. What if I’m not strong enough to read his words?
“I know you’re scared, but you have to do this. He wanted you to know something or else he wouldn’t have written this for you. He knew you could handle it, and I do too.”
“Will you read it to me?” I ask Louie, praying he agrees. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to read it myself, something that my brother must have written in pain and torment.
“Are you sure?”
Knowing if I speak now, my voice will break and I’ll crumble before I even hear my brother’s words, I just nod, then hand the letter over to Louie with shaky hands. Taking it from me, he looks at me once more before he opens the envelope to pull out the letter with what I hope are answers that have been untold for too long.
Chapter 9
Louie
I don’t really want to do this. I have a bad feeling that whatever is inside this letter is going to set her back from what little progress she seemed to have made overnight. I said that she can handle it, but a part of me wonders if she can. Even with my help, will she be able to heal after hearing her brother’s final words?
I know she thinks this letter from her brother holds all the answers, but what if it doesn’t? What if what was so hard for him to bear that he took his own life will haunt Harlow for the rest of hers? Or worse yet, what if she can’t live with herself after hearing it?
“Louie. I’ll be fine. I just can’t read it myself. And I know whatever it is that he wrote will be hard, but I realize now that I have people in my life to help me through it. I don’t want to be alone anymore, and I’m not. I have Dani. I have you,” she says with conviction. I just hope that after all is said and done, she still feels that way.
Opening the envelope, I pull the letter out. Unfolding it slowly, I take a deep breath. If this is what she wants, I will do it—for her.
Scanning the letter, I look up into her sad eyes. But it’s not just sadness I see in their depths; there’s determination and hope there too.
Looking down at the letter again, I read it out loud to her.
Harlow,
I’m sorry. I wish I could say that I regret my actions and that if I could go back and do it all again, that I wouldn’t have done what I did. But I can’t because this is exactly what was supposed to happen. You may not see it now, or even want to believe it ever, but it’s the truth. My only hope is that you will know that I love you more than anything and hope that one day you can forgive me.
Before you read any further, I need you to understand something. Our life wasn’t the best, but I did my best to shelter you from all the bad things in the world. I may not have been able to completely keep it away from you, but I hope when you look back on our time as children, you will have happy memories, and not memories tainted with pain and sadness.
I’ve been going over what I wanted to write to you for weeks now; unsure how much I should tell you. But in the end, you deserve to know the truth. I just hope that it leaves you with peace and not sadness or anger.
Please know that what happened was not your fault. Don’t blame yourself for things you didn’t know or things that were beyond your control. So if you take anything away from this letter, take with you the fact that I love you and did everything I could to show you that love.
I stop reading to check on Harlow—gauge how she is handling what has been said so far. She’s sitting on the couch with her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. She’s staring hard at her hands like they hold all the answers, not the letter I’m holding.
I wish she’d look at me so I can read her eyes, but it’s probably for the best. I need to read this letter for her and if I see the pain inside her eyes, I may not be able to continue reading.
Breathing deep, I continue.
Do you remember our last foster home? I’m sure you do, but for different reasons than me. Growing up in the system as we did, we knew too well that some places were better than others. But the last one was the final straw. I regret not getting us out of there sooner, but there were things that prevented me from being able to leave.
We had a foster sister. Rayanne. She was so innocent and sweet. Too good for this world. You don’t know much about her because she was quiet and tried to blend into the shadows, but you would have loved her. I did.
Rayanne was an orphan because her mother was killed by her father right after she was born, then her father took his own life. It was never known why her dad did what he did, but she seemed at peace with it. She always tried to find the good in people, always looked for the silver lining. Her heart was pure and couldn’t stand to see the bad in people, even when they hurt her.
I regret to say I’m one of those people that hurt her. Now I know what you’re probably thinking; I would never hurt someone, especially if they are family. But you see, there are times when you have no choice. There are times where it’s the better option. If you were forced to make a decision, what would you choose? Hurt someone as young and innocent as Rayanne or watch them be tortured far worse than you could inflict? It’s a choice I hope you never have to make, but I chose the first option. I thought that if I were the one hurting her, that it wouldn’t be as bad as what could have happened to her. And I was right, but only to a certain extent.
I was young and naïve, stupid really. I thought if I did what I was told, that nothing else would happen. I kept these secrets from you to protect you and prayed that what was happening would never touch you. And I think I succeeded. But secrets were kept from me too. While I was protecting you and doing my best to help her, she was protecting me. Keeping quiet what was going on when I wasn’t around.
The night I came to you and told you we were leaving was the night I found out what she was keeping secret. I wanted to save her too, but it was already too late.
I went to her room to tell her the plan. We were all leaving, getting out of that place for good. But when I opened her door, I found her lying in bed…covered in blood. And beside her, a note telling me she was sorry. That she couldn’t do it anymore. And then she told me what she had been keeping from me. Now I’m going to tell you what I’ve been keeping from you.
I know what he’s going to say before I read the next line. I could tell where this tragic story was leading the whole time I was reading this to Harlow. And going by the tears streaming down her face, she knows too.
“We don’t have to read the rest, babe,” I say just loud enough for her to hear me, but my voice cracks. Of all the things I thought this letter would say, I never guessed this. Drugs, gambling, depression—anything but this.
“No. I have to know for sure, Louie.”
I wait till her eyes are on mine before saying, “I’ll finish the letter. But promise me, Harlow. Promise that after, we will talk about this. That you won’t hold it all inside and let it eat away at you.”
Harlow nods, but I need her to say it. “Promise me.”
She takes a deep breath, then whispers, “I promise, Louie. As long as you help me through it, I won’t withdraw into myself. I promise.”
Reaching out my hand, I wait till she places hers into mine, then pull her on my lap. I need her close. I need to feel her, to know she’s here and that I can hold her—comfort her—when she needs it.
A few weeks after we moved in, the foster dad came into my room late one night. I was so scared. He told me to keep my mouth shut and to follow him out to the garage. He said if I made one noise, he would take you instead. I didn’t know what he was going to do or who was involved, but I knew I couldn’t let him take you. So I went. I followed him down the stairs, out the back door, and into the garage.
Once inside, he went to the middle of the room where there was a latch on the ground—a door. I didn’t ask any quest
ions. I crawled down a cold, metal ladder that led to a dark underground room.
The space was small, with only one lightbulb to offer a way to see. But I wish it had been pitch black so I wouldn’t have had to see what I saw. It haunts me to this day.
Rayanne was down there, chained to the wall, naked. She was shivering, her face was wet with tears, but she didn’t make a noise.
I was told to take my clothes off and have sex with her. He said that if I didn’t do it, someone else would. So I did it. I did everything he told me to do while he videotaped it.
This happened every night. Over and over again. I could do nothing to stop it. The only thing that kept me somewhat sane was that I thought I was saving you…saving her. I thought if I was the one doing this to her, then he wouldn’t find someone else to do it. Someone older, meaner. But I was wrong.
What I didn’t know was that before he would come to get me, he would force himself on Rayanne. Do things to her that I can’t even fathom.
She couldn’t do it anymore, so she took her own life. She told me that I needed to take you away from there so what happened to her wouldn’t happen to you. She said that you needed me more than she did. So I took you and we ran, but I could never run away from what I did. And when Rayanne came to me in a dream, she told me she didn’t blame me for what happened. That she loved me and she was in a better place.
I wanted that too, Harlow. The only purpose I had in life was to make sure you were okay, and I’m fine with that. So I made sure that you were happy and doing good, then I decided it was time for me to join Rayanne.
I know you must hate me for what I kept from you and for leaving you, but please understand that it’s better this way. I had my life and did what I set out to do, which was protect you as best I could. Now you need to move on with the life you’ve made and be happy. Let me go and know I’m happy. Know that I love you and will always watch over you. You’ll always be my Princess, but I need to be with my Angel now.
Defying Destiny (Forsaken Sinners MC #3) Page 9