Indisputable

by A. M. Wilson

  “I wanted to give something to you. Something beautiful, something permanent,” he says. I freeze; my mind a whirlwind of promises and rings and futures. What does he mean? He quietly laughs, breaking through my panic.

  “Not what you’re thinking, Sweetheart. Not yet, anyways.”

  “Okay, good,” I breathe. “I mean…it’s not—.ˮ

  He silences me with his thumb against my lips while his fingers caress my jaw.

  “I know. It’s too soon for that. I need to hear you say you love me first.” Jacoby grins, and his smile cuts through my tension. “What I was going to say was that these past few weeks have been difficult at times. We’ve had some rough moments, but we’ve also had some amazing ones as well. And in the end, every second I’ve spent with you has been entirely worth it. This weekend is about us. It’s about showing you that you are loved, and that for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll be by your side every step of the way. I’ll fight for you, for us. The consequences be damned. I wanted to give you a memory, something you’ll keep in here,” he says as he places a hand over my pounding heart. He stares intently into my crying eyes as he professes, “I’m yours.”

  I whimper as he places a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth before wiping my tears with his thumbs. “And I’m yours, Jacoby.”

  He smiles a breathtaking grin at me and wraps me in his arms. “That’s all I’ll ever ask for.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  Jacoby

  A dream. That’s what my life feels like these days. The kind of dream that comes between sleep and awake, where you know you’re dreaming but everything feels so damn real. If someone were to pinch me, I’m certain I’d wake up.

  But it’s not a dream. The past two months have definitely been real life. I still can’t understand how I ended up lucky enough to find someone as perfect as Tatum.

  Our relationship has been life changing; for the both of us. My past is still reflected around me when I remember why I moved here, but the guilt doesn’t weigh as heavily as before. Tatum has helped me with that. Her thoughtfulness, her words, her very essence has helped guide me back to the light. I still have my moments; a nightmare here or there after we’ve talked about it. But when I wake up from thrashing around in my sleep, I have Tatum’s warm body there to comfort me. Her soothing whispers carry away my pain.

  She’s been remarkably strong as well. Only a week and a half has passed since she told me she wanted to stop, and not once has she needed to hurt herself. I’ll catch her eyes drift to the bands she still wears as shields on her wrists while we watch TV or lie in bed. I know she’s thinking about the marks there, possibly even remembering. But she’s strong. I know she would come to me before she hurt herself again. She had her first counseling appointment on Monday, and I’m confident with her newfound support system, she can beat the ghosts of her past.

  Today is Wednesday, and I’m sitting in my classroom first period correcting tests. Or trying to. My thoughts keep drifting to the weekend we shared, to the way Tatum secured her place in my heart by declaring she’s mine. No sweeter words have ever been spoken.

  After we left the lodge, we spent the rest of the weekend in our hotel room wrapped up in bed. It was pure bliss. Every day following seems to be more and more difficult to keep our distance. I know we’re pushing the limits, but we just can’t stop. It’s an addiction with the highest power to control our mind and our hearts.

  The bell rings, and the hallway fills with sounds as students leave first period to head to their second class. As students begin trickling in, I can’t help the pang of longing I get when Tatum’s face doesn’t appear. I miss the days she sat on her stool scowling at me, and bickering, and defying me with her phone. Mostly, I miss getting to see her twice a day. I think we need to have an impromptu lunch date.

  I quickly type out a text just as the warning bell rings. Meet me in my room for lunch.

  “Okay, class. I have your tests corrected. We’re going to review so I can answer any questions.” Only two hours to go…

  ***

  A soft knock sounds on the door five minutes into lunch period, and a small smile tugs on my lips. I’ve been desperate to see her all morning.

  “Come in,” I yell. The door clicks open, and Tatum walks inside. God, she’s a vision in her short jean skirt and fitted black shirt. The fabric hangs loose around her shoulders, falling off one side to reveal a black bra strap. There’s plenty of room to pull the loose neck forward to reveal her perfectly round, firm breasts. Her hair is hanging around her shoulders in a mass of beautiful curls. Just gorgeous.

  I walk to the door, locking it and turning out the lights. My hands fit themselves into the slim curve of her waist, and she melts into me, letting her book bag drop to the floor, and pressing soft kisses along the column of my throat.

  “Did anyone see you come in?” I ask, my voice a deep, husky rumble.

  “Mmm, nope. Hallway was clear,” she replies between kisses.

  “Mmm, indeed.”

  Our lips meld together in a scorching kiss. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of her sweet taste or the soft whimpers that crawl up her throat. Her hands fist in my hair as I deepen the kiss and she rubs her soft body against mine.

  I pull away from her mouth and rest my forehead against hers. If I don’t stop now, I’m going to devour her.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  Tatum giggles softly. “It’s only been a few hours,” she says.

  I bury my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of apricots. “True. But it’s been too long.”

  “I know,” she sighs. Her eyes are closed, and she rests her head against the wall behind her. “Only a few more weeks before we don’t have to do this anymore.”

  “Then you’re off to college.” I smile at her before taking her hand and leading her to my desk. I sit in the black rolling chair and pull her into my lap. My hand caresses the bare, silky skin of her thigh.

  “Then I’m off to college,” she agrees.

  “Have you thought about what you want to do next? I know you want to get away from this place.”

  Tatum stares across the room thoughtfully. She grabs my hand, the one drawing circles, and halts my movements. “I think I’m going to stay long enough to get my generals done. I need to save up more money before…I leave.” Her beautiful face is etched with lines of distress, and I want to take it away.

  “Tatum,” I call, tilting her face back to mine with a finger beneath her chin. “If everything works between us, if you’ll still have me, I’d follow you anywhere.” Her eyes widen infinitesimally before she looks away again.

  “I wouldn’t ask you to do that. You already uprooted your life once. I wouldn’t want you to resent me.”

  “Sweetheart, look at me.” She does, and her eyes are heartbreaking. The hazel depths swirl with desire and longing. Christ, she’s undoing me. “I uprooted myself because I didn’t have a life left. Now I do.” I watch, transfixed, as the meaning seeps in, and her eyes blaze with desire.

  “Do you mean that?” she whispers against my lips.

  “More than anything.”

  I take her mouth again. Her lips and teeth and tongue fight with mine, but in the end, I win and her body surrenders to me. She rearranges herself on my lap so she’s straddling my hips, and I can’t help thinking about how easy it’d be to unzip my fly, sink inside of her, and let her ride me.

  A shrill bell rings.

  “Fuck. You have to go,” I grit out as she scrambles from my lap. I have to adjust myself in my slacks. We rush to the door, and I rearrange a few wild strands of her hair.

  “You’re a bit flushed.”

  “So are you,” I whisper against her lips, giving her one last kiss. “It’s a good look.”

  I flick on the lights, praying nobody outside noticed the darkness from beneath the door. Unlocking the handle, I let Tatum step out into the hallway first and breathe a sigh of relief when I realize it was just the
warning bell. Only a few students are out here, and they don’t spare more than a glance in our direction.

  “So, review that worksheet I gave you and that should help you on your next test,” I say, trying to remove any possible suspicion. Tatum looks at me quizzically before the light dawns in her eyes, and she smiles.

  “Sure, thanks for your help, Mr. Ryan.”

  “Well, well, well. Did you think I wouldn’t figure out who you were?” A cold sensation slithers along my spine when I recognize that voice. Wyatt. Fuck.

  “What are you doing here, Wyatt?” Tatum asks in a low voice, taking a step towards him. I have to quell the urge to push her behind me. I don’t want her anywhere near this fucker.

  “You’ve been avoiding me, baby. I thought you needed a little reminder of where you belong.”

  “And where is that? Because it sure as hell isn’t with you!” she spits. My blood fucking boils. I need to get him out of here before he ruins everything we’ve worked so hard to keep a secret.

  “You need to leave. You’re trespassing.” My voice comes out calm and steady but inside, I’m enraged. I can see Tatum trembling out of the corner of my eye, and I wish I could do something more to protect what’s mine. My arms ache with the need to take her and comfort her from this prick.

  “Funny you say that. I’m actually here to meet with the principal. I’ll be on my way. Don’t want to keep him waiting. You two have a nice day.” The fucker has the audacity to wink before he starts to turn away.

  “Wait!” Tatum calls out. Fuck!

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Please, please leave, Wyatt. Don’t do this,” she pleads.

  “Tatum—“. I start, but that fucker cuts me off.

  “God, I love it when you beg,” he groans.

  “Don’t you fucking talk to her,” I snarl under my breath. The hall is starting to fill up, and if we aren’t careful, we’ll have an extremely judgmental audience.

  “Wyatt,” Tatum starts again. “Please. You know nothing good will come out of this, for either of us. If you walk down to his office, that’s it. I’ll report your assault to the police.”

  And ugly look crosses Wyatt’s face, and I brace. If I have to take him down, I will. My control is only so strong.

  “Nobody will believe you. We’ve fucked plenty of times. I can say it was all your idea,” he sneers.

  “Don’t forget we had a witness.” She gestures to me with a nod of her head. “Sure, we might get into some trouble, but you can’t deny what you did. I had bruises for days. My friends saw them, too. You’ll never get away with this. You’ll go to jail.”

  Wyatt seems to contemplate her words before he looks at us with his own mask of anger. “Fuck. Fine,” he spits. “But this shit isn’t done. You belong to me.”

  I’ve had enough. This ends. Now. “It is done. Finished. You don’t leave her alone, you say one word to anyone, and we’re going down to the police station and making a report. I’m not fucking around.”

  “You can have her. Who knows where that cunt as been. I’m out of here.” Wyatt pushes past a group of students near the mouth of the hall, but from the looks of it, we didn’t gather anyone’s attention.

  “You okay?” I ask, because Tatum is unnaturally silent beside me. I can only imagine what’s running through her head right now. God, I want to pull her into my arms and hold her tight enough to make her worries fade.

  She looks up at me and smiles, but it seems uncertain. “Yeah. I just really hope this is the end of him.”

  “It is,” I vow. “He’s not going to hurt you again. I wish I could do something right now to ease your worries, but you have to get to class, Sweetheart. I’ll see you in calculus.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll see you later.”

  I watch as Tatum walks away, and I greet the students entering my class. There’s a cloud of unease swirling in my gut that won’t go away. Wyatt better leave us alone after this, because I meant what I said. I will make him pay.

  As I turn to go into class, my cell vibrates from my pocket. I forgot it was in there and not in my brief case where I usually leave it. When I answer the call, my whole world tilts. A new change is coming, and it effectively cuts me off at the knees. My mind turns into a single track. I’m out of time.

  I need to get out of here.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Tatum

  The second the bell rings, I’m out of my seat and tearing down the hall to the parking lot. I pass masses of students coming out of their sixth period classes, but I’m ahead of the herd. I don’t have time for obstacles. I have to get home…to Jacoby’s home. He’s there waiting for me. He has to be. There’s a valid explanation why he wasn’t here for calculus.

  I know with everything I am that he wouldn’t leave without telling me. He wouldn’t leave me behind.

  I drive like a psycho, running stop signs and ignoring the speed limit. My mind is a one track train from hell and I’m forcing myself to stay positive. We’re okay. Jacoby is okay. Everything is okay. I’ve fought too hard to have this happiness in my life; I’m not about to let it be taken away without one last battle.

  I hit the garage door opener as I round the corner of Jacoby’s street. My blood roars in my ears as the door lifts painfully slow. Just a crack inching open little by little.

  He’s here.

  He’s here.

  He has to be here.

  I jump the curb, cutting over the patch of browning grass between his house and the next, and blow out a gigantic breath when I see the dark blue bumper of his car peek out beneath the rising door.

  Thank God.

  Pulling in beside him, I cut the engine, hit the opener again, and race into the house.

  “Jacoby?” I yell, my voice echoing throughout the open spaces.

  Silence.

  The room smells of Jacoby, the familiar sweet, woodsy scent and something else uniquely him. It wraps around me like a shield, and my mind relinquishes its racing thoughts. I charge through the empty living room and into the kitchen. Empty. Turning on my heel, I race down the hall to the spare bedroom and bathroom. Both empty.

  “Jacoby, where are you?” I shout, my voice shrill to my own ears. The panic is rising, cresting, consuming my chest and my lungs and my heart.

  When I hit the top of the stairs, I throw the bedroom door open with so much force it cracks against the wall. I don’t have to step inside the room to know he isn’t here either. The space is too still, too quiet, like the air itself hasn’t been disturbed since we both left for school this morning.

  “Jacoby, where are you?” I whisper into the nothingness. The room doesn’t answer me as I enter the space we shared as recently as this morning. The bed we slept in, the shower we made love in, all of it is as quiet and as clueless as the inanimate objects they are.

  Tears tickle my eyelids, and I can’t hold them back any longer. They rush down my cheeks in a torrent of pain and fear. I curl into a ball on my side in the center of the bed, and rest my cheek against the soft comforter.

  Love is a strange thing. Sometimes it finds you when you aren’t even looking. Other times it requires you to fight with all the energy you have, and then some, to prove yourself worthy. Regardless of how it came to be, when it’s gone, it treats us all the same. It rips you wide open, leaving a gaping, unfillable hole in its absence. Leaving you forever changed.

  I don’t know how long I lie in this bed, watching the rays of sun sink across the wall until only dark shadows remain. My only company is the thoughts swirling around my head. Thoughts of love and loss, of mistakes and pain.

  Desperation.

  The room grows dark and shadows crawl like living beings across the wall. My tears eventually dry. My eyelids droop, and I feel like sleep could take me away. But a loud knock coming from down stairs has me suddenly wide awake. I bolt from the room and take the stairs two at a time, rushing towards the sound. When I hit the living room, the loud knocking sounds from the door, and I fling
it open without checking the peephole.

  “Trey,” I cry out before lunging at the big man wearing a mask of confusion in the doorway. I wrap my arms around his thick neck and burrow my face in his wide chest as a torrent of tears stream from my eyes. Trey lifts my body with him as he walks inside the house, shutting the door and leading me to the couch. All the while I cry.

  “Shh, honey. What’s going on? Where’s Jacoby?” he asks. Something about his tone, about the careful way he delivers the question has my tears immediately calming, and I look up at his concerned blue gaze.

  “I don’t know. He’s gone, and I think…I think he had to leave. Someone found out about us.”

  Simultaneously, Trey’s body locks tight, and he closes his eyes. When he opens them again, his face is carefully blank.

  “What makes you say that?”

  I sit with Trey while he holds my hand, and I fill him in on the events of the past day. The more I talk, the more agitated he becomes until he jumps up from the couch and begins pacing the room. His behavior is frightening, and it gives me a deep feeling of dread in my gut.

  “Trey,” I begin cautiously. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “When was the last time you spoke to him?” he asks, and I don’t even have to think about it. Our routine has been the same ever since I started staying at his house. We don’t text back and forth all day because Jacoby has been adamant that I pay attention in class. I see him in the morning, then we both leave for school in our own cars. We text a bit during second period, because he knows I have study hall. Most days we’d meet up for lunch in his classroom. Just thinking about what happened today has a wave of bile rising in my throat. We were so damn stupid.

  “I saw him during lunch. Someone found out about us and threatened to tell the principal. I thought we had it handled. Jacoby told me he’d see me during sixth period. It’s his calculus class. After that, we usually leave in our separate cars and come home, but today, he wasn’t in class. He hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts.”