Let Her Go

by Briana Pacheco

  The pounding of my feet hitting the pavement, and my muscles burning, push me further down the sidewalk. The guy chasing me is good motivation, too. I have about fifteen feet on him, but he gets closer every time I look back. Damn guy doesn’t want to lose to a girl.

  I see my apartment down the block. I pump my legs faster. Legs appear beside me seconds later and I trip over my own feet as I look to the side. Arms catch me before I face-plant into cement.

  “I knew I made you weak in the knees,” Owen chuckles.

  “You reek and I couldn’t handle it anymore!” I tease.

  I stand up straight and wipe the sweat off my forehead.

  He’s going to beat me.

  The winner decides where we’re going later tonight and I have a book to read. So staying home is my choice. If Owen wins, I have to put the book down just for one day. Tomorrow’s Christmas and I know I won’t get to read so this is very heartbreaking. I need to win.

  I look over Owen’s shoulder and widen my eyes. “Ohmygod! He’s naked!” Owen turns around, shocked. And I run. “What an idiot!” I yell, laughing.

  I jog up the steps to my place. My heavy breaths make unlocking the door harder. When I slip the key into the keyhole, I’m jerked back. A squeal escapes my mouth as my back knocks into a hard, sweaty chest.

  “Your shower. You naked. Right now,” Owen pants into my ear, biting and licking the exposed skin on my shoulder.

  “Fine, but you have to get naked first.”

  “Let me take you out and it’s a deal.”

  I smile to myself and nod. “Okay.”

  We enter the apartment and make our way toward the bathroom. Echo must still be in bed. It’s rare to find her awake at seven in the morning on a Sunday.

  Owen wanted to join me for my morning run. He spent the night being my personal body pillow so I couldn’t refuse his offer.

  I start the shower and twirl around, raising an eyebrow when I see that Owen is still clothed. He huffs, kicking off his sneakers. His baby blue eyes are on mine when he drops his running shorts and boxers.

  Seeing this man naked sparks something inside me. I feel like my body is a live wire, buzzing with electricity.

  I can never look away.

  I take off my sports bra and then slip out of my shorts.

  Owen takes a step forward, pulling me against him. His lips capture mine in a soft caress and then he moves lower, his nose running up my neck slowly. I feel him press a kiss to the spot below my ear. I feel his tongue on my skin and then the cool air as he blows on the wet skin and I shudder.

  When he pulls back he reaches for my hair tie and sets my hair free. “You go in, I’ll be right behind you.”

  He has to take off his contacts.

  I stare at his beautifully sculpted chest and nod.

  I push the shower curtain to the side and step in. I watch Owen bring his hands up to his face. I can’t look when he takes them out.

  I’m not ready.

  He steps into the shower a second later. “Turn around,” he says when my eyes can’t go past his lips.

  I turn and let the water cascade down the front of my body. Owen reaches for my shampoo when my hair is soaking wet. I turn into a puddle of mush as he massages my scalp.

  He grabs me and shifts us so he’s under the water now. I grab the bottle of body wash from his hands and squirt some into my hands and then I start lathering him up. I stare at his naked chest, water spraying off his skin onto mine. I look up quickly, our eyes connecting. There’s nothing but love staring back at me.

  He gets under my skin, unraveling me to the point of no return, and damn do I love it now. He’s everywhere; in my head, in my bed, on my lips. I can’t turn somewhere without feeling or breathing him in. The past two weeks have been two of the best weeks of my life.

  He consumes my thoughts in the most delicious way. It’d be a sin to avoid it.

  I used to hate him touching me. Now, I want to know what his fingers feel like sliding down my body, slowly teasing and touching every inch of me. I want my thoughts to disappear when his mouth meets mine.

  I want Owen to myself.

  Once all the soap is off Owen’s body, he grabs my body wash and runs his hands over my body, washing away all my fears.

  When Owen and I walk up to the Marion Street Bridge after having dinner at a restaurant nearby, the butterflies in my stomach turn into a full on zoo. I feel every animal stomping through, lighting me up as my eyes land on every padlock affixed to the chain-link fence. I’ve always loved seeing the photos of couples “locking their love in Seattle.” After Paris started taking theirs down for safety concerns, my little city decided to keep the love going, along with other countries.

  If Owen told me we’d pass by here I wouldn’t have been a major sourpuss over not finishing my book. I have a hundred pages left. I was so close to finishing!

  “I love seeing these,” I comment, running my finger over some of the locks. How many of them are still together? How many shared blissful moments? How many threw the key into the water below us, never questioning their love for their special person?

  Owen stands beside me, his eyes roaming over all the love stories we will never hear but will always feel. His lips kick up into a smile when he tilts his head my way. “We used to carve our names into trees,” he recalls.

  “Do you remember the last time we did that?”

  He fixes his eyes on me and says with a tinge of sadness, “I do.”

  It was the day before his fifteenth birthday.

  “It was the day I was going to tell you that I loved you,” I acknowledge.

  Zoë, Fourteen years old

  It was now expected of me to dress as my favorite character from a book or movie on Halloween when it released that year. Mom gushed over how adorable I looked as Alice from Alice in Wonderland. I tweaked the outfit and made it a little more…sexy. The blue dress hung on my body like a curtain. I cinched it at the waist and showed a tiny bit of cleavage. My white ballet flats completed my look. Owen was the Mad Hatter. He gave Johnny Depp a run for his money.

  We were invited to a Halloween party at one of our classmates’ house. It was the “it” party that everyone needed to attend in order to be somebody in high school. We started ninth grade almost two months ago, Owen and I already established our popular statuses. I came from a family with money, and Owen was hot. People needed us in their circle. It was maddening.

  Around nine o’clock we ditched the party and headed to Owen’s house, walking around back so we could sit by the creek for a while. Dad said I couldn’t stay out later than ten. He would be waiting for my call.

  I had less than forty minutes to tell my best friend that I was in love with him.

  “Come on!” I urged, skipping down the pathway covered in dirt and rocks.

  “If you’re looking for a white rabbit you’re going to scare it away. We’re moving too fast.”

  I huffed and tugged Owen’s arm harder. I needed him to shut up for a second. I needed him to wrap his arms around me and kiss me. I needed him to know that I loved him too.

  Three months ago, he kissed me and said he loved me more than a friend. And I said, “we can’t.” I thought we couldn’t. But Michael left me alone. He hasn’t looked or talked to me in months. I was forgotten. I was set free.

  We stopped by the edge of the water, and I tipped my head back, feeling the moonlight on my face.

  Owen let go of my hand as he walked over to a tree twenty feet away. He studied it, walked around it in a circle and then dug into his black pants and pulled out his pocketknife.

  “Zo, come here.”

  I made my way over to him, my eyes finding the spot his fingers were running over.

  “There’s already a Z.”

  I placed my hand over his, feeling the sharp curves of the letter that I carved a few days ago. I couldn’t sleep so I ran over here, carved the letter Z and then ran back home. I was preparing for this moment. We always carved our na
mes into trees but we never touched the trees by the creek.

  I was ready for him.

  “I don’t think we should leave it all alone,” I said, turning my eyes on him.

  He looked down at his feet, chuckling. “I don’t even want to know when you did this. You could have hurt yourself.”

  “Shut up and carve an O.”

  Owen raised his head, leaned in and kissed my forehead. I took a step back and watched him etch our initials into a tree that would carry our love for a long time, hopefully forever.

  When he closed the knife, he crept over to me, his eyes searching for the meaning of this. I stared back at him with a smile in my eyes. The words wanted to come out but something kept them from escaping. I took a deep breath. One step forward and then another.

  We were nose to nose, breathing each other in.

  His heart beat to the same rhythm as mine.

  His love roared louder than the darkness inside me.

  I loved him, but the words wouldn’t come out.

  They couldn’t.

  I froze. It was like a tidal wave hit me in slow motion when green eyes locked on mine.

  My heartbeat slowed when I noticed the shift in space around me. Everything faded except for those forest green eyes.

  “Zo?”

  And then my heart stopped. It completely failed me. All my organs felt like they evaporated. I was pretty sure that I was dead at that point. Because where I was, it was hell in its sweetest form.

  The boy I loved was standing right in front of me, and all I saw was his father. Because he was standing right behind him.

  The waves finally crashed into me, knocking me backward, filling my lungs, drowning me.

  I blinked, Owen turning into a blurry figure as I gripped my chest and pulled on my dress, trying to breathe.

  “What’s going on?” Michael asked, stepping out of the shadows.

  “Jesus Christ, Dad! Where did you come from?” Owen yelled, turning around quickly. His hands were on me a millisecond later. “Zo, breathe. Look at me.” He cradled my face in his hands and forced my eyes on his. “Look at me. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

  I wanted to shout out, “No, it’s not! I’m not okay. He’s killing me!”

  But I didn’t say it.

  I couldn’t.

  “I-I have to go.” I pushed Owen’s hands off me and I ran. I looked back once. I saw Owen running after me. I was faster. He wouldn’t catch up.

  And then I saw Michael staring back at me with rage filled eyes. He told me to stay away from Owen. He told me that if I ever told anyone, he’d hurt them. All of them. When I was old enough to understand that my parents wouldn’t give me up for learning what happened to me, Michael changed his threat. He used his family; Owen.

  He said he would hurt Owen in ways I couldn’t even imagine.

  He kept his promise.

  Owen runs his thumb underneath my eye, wiping away a stray tear. “You ran away from me that day.” I close my eyes. “You had a panic attack and then you left. Loving me did that?”

  I open my eyes and exhale. “I wanted you so much it hurt. I’ve always loved you, Owen. Pushing you away…I did it for you. I’m fucked up. I tried protecting you from ever seeing that.”

  “You’re not fucked up.” He leans in a little closer to say, “Your edges are a little bent but you’re still a fucking masterpiece.”

  His words. His eyes. His heart. They’re pure gold.

  He drowns out my demons and lights me up from the inside.

  I love you.

  “Take me home,” I plead.

  Love me.

  We take a taxi to Owen’s apartment and then we’re running upstairs, stealing kisses as we fall onto his bed.

  Owen reaches for me and pulls me onto his lap. He brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, trailing his thumb down until he reaches my lips.

  I run my fingers through his hair, eyeing his lips as I lick my dry ones.

  Kiss me.

  His lips find mine, words dying in my throat as his tongue pushes past my lips in a soft sensual kiss. I tug on his hair, loving the groan he makes deep in his throat. His hands roam down my sides and slide my shirt up while I reach down and grab the bottom of his. We pull apart to get rid of the unwanted clothing. My eyes take him in as my fingers run down his chest. His muscles contract as I make my way even lower.

  My hand slips into his boxers. I watch his hooded eyes as I palm his hard length. “Zoë,” he says, his voice a hoarse whisper. I scoot back and pull his jeans and boxers down his muscled thighs. I kiss his chest, planting soft kisses along the way until I reach the V between his hips.

  I hold him in my hand, licking from base to tip and then I take him into my mouth. The way he says my name, low and guttural, as he slips his hand into my hair, causes my body to ignite. Watching him through my lashes, him watching me, is sexy. The sounds coming out of his mouth, his muscles flexing, the way he bites his lip and tips his head back as I find my rhythm makes me want to slip a hand into my underwear and touch myself.

  I never thought it’d be like this between us.

  Owen groans and pulls me up. The hungry look in his eyes makes my muscles clench.

  I climb back up his body and kiss him hard. His hand trails up my thigh, unbuttoning my jeans and slipping inside. I tremble when he slips a finger inside me. “You’re so wet.” He bites my bottom lip, pulling on it. He looks at me with half-lidded eyes full of desire.

  “I want you.”

  I’m ready.

  “You already have me,” he murmurs.

  Our eyes never break away when I unclasp my bra and stand, shedding my jeans and underwear. I grab a condom from the nightstand drawer and hand it over to Owen so I can watch him put it on.

  I crawl back onto the bed, straddling Owen’s stomach, kissing him once then twice.

  “Are you sure?” he questions, running a hand up my thigh.

  “I’ve never wanted this more than I do right now.”

  I slide down just a bit, lining us up and then I press down on his cock. I gasp, not used to him as he slides in slowly, inch by inch.

  “Fuck, Zoë,” he hisses, grabbing my hip to keep me from rocking my hips when he’s all the way in. “I need a second.”

  He captures my mouth, stealing my words, leaving me breathless as he lets go of my hip and pushes himself up, rolling his hips.

  Yes! Yesyesyesyes! Keep doing that!

  Every time he does something, says a word and pants, I want to scream. I want to drag my nails down his back and leave marks because nothing ever felt this good. Hearing my name roll off his tongue as he thrusts into me makes my toes curl in pure ecstasy.

  He sends me to another world.

  “Owen,” I moan. I bite his lip and arch my back, digging my nails into his shoulders. I can’t think straight when he’s invading my mind. He pulls my hair and moves his mouth to my neck, sucking on skin, nipping the spot below my ear. “Yes.”

  He grabs my hands, laces our fingers together and holds me up as I undulate my hips, getting closer.

  “Fuck!”

  I crack open my eyes and for a split second, I see Michael. It makes me pause. No. Not now.

  But then Owen opens his eyes and he’s staring at me, smiling at me like he finds me adorable and fuckable at the same time.

  The devil is gone. He wasn’t really here.

  He’s not here.

  I hold his gaze as I roll my hips a little harder before I throw my head back. He grabs my hips, holding me against him and he moves under me.

  “God!” I bite my lip until I taste blood. The sound of skin slapping skin pushes me to go faster, harder, deeper. I want all of him and I feel like I’ll never have enough.

  Owen sits up, the position making him go deeper. I cling to him as our hot, slick bodies move against each other. “Zoë,” he breathes into my neck, biting me. I pull his hair, wanting him to bite harder. I want pain. I want everything from him. “I’m going to come. I c
an’t…I’m fucking close.”

  I bring his mouth back to mine as his hand moves in-between us, rubbing me until I can’t handle anymore. My body trembles, everything clenches, and I let out a deep moan as Owen stills inside me a few thrusts later.

  Holy fuck that was amazing!

  He drops his head against my shoulder and plants a soft kiss on my skin. Our heavy breaths fill the silence as we hold on to each other.

  I close my eyes and drop my head on his chest. I listen to his heartbeat and I smile. “I love you,” I whisper.

  This is what I always wanted.

  He was what I always wanted.

  “I love you more,” Owen whispers, falling back onto the pillows, pulling me with him.

  I look up, tracing my fingers over his face as his eyes drift closed and he falls asleep minutes later.

  It was just us.

  It was just us.

  Mere hours before Christmas day, my world turns black again. The nightmares are back. His voice is in my head. There is no more escaping. The colored contacts were just an illusion. They were never going to fix the problem. I was stupid to think I was fixed; that I could be normal.

  I need help.

  I need to tell someone because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t have all this guilt and terror and shame clawing it’s way through me, tearing me to shreds.

  His fingers are around my throat now, taking my last few breaths, and he’s laughing. He’s laughing because he won. He owns me.

  “Zoë, wake up!” Fingers tightly squeeze my arms and I’m shaken roughly. I hear Echo and I feel her, only I can’t seem to open my eyes.

  My throat closes up even more.

  The devil’s voice plays out in my head. “How sick and twisted are you, baby girl? When his cock is in your mouth, does it remind you of me? Mm, I loved the feel of your soft, sweet lips.” I feel his breath on my neck and I feel his wet tongue on my skin. My skin burns like he just poured acid on me. “When he was inside of you, did you see me? Feel me?”