by Tabatha Kiss
I turn toward the entrance doors to find my mother’s head poking out from the crowd.
“It’s time for the family picture. Let’s go. Stand in front of the cake. You, too, Logan—”
Just as suddenly as she appeared, she disappears again into the ballroom.
Becky steps toward me and clutches my arm, pulling me along with her. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
Once again, someone leads me through a crowd of strangers toward a destination I want nothing to do with. But I can’t help but feel buzzed by Becky’s enthusiasm. A little voice in my heads screams at me, reminding me that she’ll throw me to the wolves if it meant making herself look better. It doesn’t stop me from smiling.
“Mason — here she is!” my mother announces as Becky and I draw near.
I look up into the eyes of my stepfather. He towers over me, nearly a foot taller than myself. I always found him daunting and tonight is no exception. Mason Belmont turns around and looks down at me. His eyes show the same level of disinterest as they always did.
“Oh, yes. Hello, there, Rockette,” he mutters at me. “It’s nice of you to join us tonight.”
I smile at him. “I’m happy to be here.”
It’s a complete lie, but one I’m happy to keep telling. I take a closer look at my stepfather. He’s looking older, much older, than the last time I saw him a few years ago. His movements are slow and stilted as if he would be in pain if he were to move too quickly. The wrinkles on his skin look as if his face is close to peeling off. His short, blond hair is thin, a mere shadow of the full head of hair he used to have. For a brief moment, I feel sorry for him, but a part of me feels joy. The immortal Mason Belmont is just like the rest of us.
“Stand here, Rockette,” my mother says as she pushes me to the right of the big cake.
My ankle spins at an awkward angle and I feel myself begin to fall.
“Whoa, whoa—”
I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders. They hold me steady until I right myself again.
“For heaven’s sake, Rockette. Show some grace…” my mother spits into my ear.
“I got her, Gloria…”
I turn around to find Zeke still holding onto me.
“She pushed me…” I explain.
“I know, I saw the whole thing,” Zeke says with a wink. “I probably shouldn’t have gotten you heels…”
His smile warms my heart. Our eyes lock into each other’s and the room falls silent. It’s probably just in my head, along with the thumping of blood pounding in my ears. “Did anyone else see it?”
“Nah,” he says. “No one important.”
I breathe a sigh and turn around to face the photographer. Becky plants herself to my right with a permanent grip on Logan’s arm.
Logan. There has to be a way of getting him alone again before the night is over.
“Smile, everybody!” the photographer calls out.
I look around at my family. My mother is happy, happier than I’ve seen her in years. Even Mason has a smile on his face. His arm is wrapped around my mother’s shoulders. For a moment, I feel glad that she found her place in this world. A place that makes her happy. Even if I am miserable.
Zeke’s arm lands on my shoulders and he tugs me into a side embrace. “No need for the two of us to look lonely…”
I look out into the crowd and see Madison’s smiling face. She must not be permanent enough to make the family photo. Unlike Logan, the honorary Belmont.
The camera flash stings my eyes and I blink to see spots.
“One more time everybody! Look over here!”
I focus my attention on the photographer and offer him a wide smile as another flash blinds me.
Eight
Rocky
“You never mentioned Madison.”
The elevator ding fills my ears as Zeke and I step off it. The party didn’t last long after the photo and I never did get the chance to tug at Logan’s ear again. I think he knew I would try, so he slipped out the back with Becky shortly after the cake was cut.
“I did,” Zeke says as he flicks his keys to his penthouse out of his pocket.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Oh, well, I guess she slipped my mind.”
I follow him into the penthouse and immediately slip off my heels. My feet have been aching for hours. I honestly don’t remember the last time I wore heels.
“Logan said the two of you have been inseparable,” I say.
Zeke steps toward his drink cart and grabs a whiskey bottle. “Logan doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
I step back, surprised by the sudden change in his tone. His complete demeanor has shifted since the party. In front of everyone else, he was smiley, happy Zeke Belmont. But now…
I decide not to push it. “I’ll go get changed and get out of your hair.”
I don’t wait for a response. I take long strides into the hallway and walk down to his bedroom. My slacks and blouse are still folded up on end of the bed, along with my comfortable shoes.
I stare at myself in the mirror and hope that this isn’t the last time I get to wear this wonderful dress. A pang of sadness melts me as I listen to the gentle hum of the zipper as I pull it down the back.
“Rocky—”
I pause and look toward the door.
Zeke stands in the doorway with two drinks in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says, taking a step inside. “It’s been a long night.”
I nod in agreement.
He approaches me and holds a drink up to me. “Stick around for a while. You don’t have to leave yet.”
My nose tingles with the sweet aroma of amaretto. A smile glides across my face as I accept the drink. We both hold the glasses up to our lips and take a sip. “So, what’s she like?”
“Who?” Zeke asks.
“Madison.”
“I don’t want to talk about Madison.”
“That bad, huh?” I step away and glance around the room.
“She’s a good distraction,” he says.
“But not a keeper?”
“No.”
“I figured when she didn’t make the photo,” I note.
“A lot of people don’t make the photo,” Zeke says. “You included.”
“Must have been lonely the last few years with no one to wrap your arm around.” I chuckle. “Mom and Mason. Becky and Logan. And then you.”
“Yep,” Zeke says. He downs the rest of his drink and sets the empty glass on a bookcase. “Just me.”
My tongue taps the roof of my mouth. I want to get the words out. I want to ask him about what Logan said. But the timing feels off. I pour a little more alcohol down my throat, hoping it will loosen my lips.
“Zeke, I want to ask you something…”
“What?” he says.
I step toward him, feeling a surge of strength. His eyes are soft on me and, for a moment, I want to backtrack. Things are going so well right now. Will it be stupid for me to rock the boat?
“Logan said something to me tonight that’s been bugging me and I…”
My voice trails off as something inside of me tells me to shut up.
Zeke strides to me with a look of concern in his eyes. As he pauses in front of me, I catch a bit of his cologne in my nose. His scent shoots through my brain and my memories flow back to that summer.
It was extremely warm. We were all too lazy to call a repairman when the air conditioner broke. I practically lived in the pool house for the duration of the season. It was the only way to keep cool.
One night, Zeke and I were drinking alone, talking about nothing. And then, all of a sudden, we were talking about something…
And then we weren’t talking at all.
“Oh, my god,” I whisper. My hand shoots to my mouth. I look up into Zeke’s eyes, my heart pounding.
“What?” he asks. “Rocky, are you okay?”
I love you, Rocky Ramone.
Five words. I can hear them so clearl
y now as if I never forgot them in the first place.
This is what Logan was talking about. He was there that night. He interrupted us before things went too far. I remember running out of the pool house wearing only my bikini bottoms with my top clenched in my fingers. I stumbled up the stairs to my room where the mixture of alcohol and heat put me to sleep.
The next morning, I had forgotten the whole thing but the feeling of shame remained and I refused to say another word to him about anything.
“I remember…”
“Remember what?”
Tears fill my eyes as I look up at him. “Everything.”
I try to move toward the door but Zeke lunges in front of me and blocks my escape.
“What do you mean, Rocky? What did Logan say to you?”
“You told me you loved me that summer. You kissed me in the pool house. We… kissed…” I say the words aloud, but they still don’t feel real.
Zeke deflates. His eyes close for a brief moment before opening again to look at me. “I’ll kill him for telling you.”
“He didn’t tell me anything. I remembered,” I explain. “And you kept this a secret from me?”
“You woke up the next morning and didn’t remember a thing. What was I supposed to do? Remind you of my darkest secret? I just let it go…”
“Your darkest secret?” I say. My eyes glance at the black box sitting on his nightstand.
“Rocky, please, don’t bring this back up,” Zeke urges.
“Open the box, Zeke.”
“Rocky, come on…”
“Open the damn box, Zeke!”
“You don’t want this, Rocky.”
My feet pull me to the nightstand and I pick up the black box. “Open it or I’ll smash it.”
Zeke stares at me. I don’t feel good about the threat. This is the last thing he has of his real mother. I really have no intention of causing any harm to it and he knows it. But he still reaches inside his shirt and withdraws a key hanging by a chain around his neck.
“Put it down,” he says.
I lay the box on the bed and take a step away from it as Zeke walks over to me. He says nothing as he slides the key into the lock and flicks it open.
I hesitate to look inside. The point of no return is upon me. I imagine myself back in my studio apartment, staring at the bleak, white ceiling. If I had just said no to my mother and refused to call Zeke like I wanted to, then this moment would never have happened. I would be hungry and broke and possibly homeless, but I wouldn’t feel like this. And Zeke wouldn’t have that sadness in his eyes right now.
“Go on,” Zeke says.
He steps away from the bed and glides over to the bedroom door. He doesn’t leave. He just leans against it with his back to me.
My eyes drop to the bed. I fight my urge to run and force my eyes to land on the box. I see a stack of photos, but the shadows in the room make it too hard to make out the images. But the face is familiar. Very familiar.
I pick up the photos and flip through them one-by-one.
They’re all photos of me.
Some of them have Zeke, too. Memories of that summer. The good moments.
“I’m your darkest secret,” I say to Zeke’s back.
He turns around and leans against the wall. “Since the day I met you.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask.
It’s a stupid question but it’s the only one that manages to slip out of my lips in the moment.
“Because you’re my sister.” He stares at the floor with his hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets.
I feel nothing. I want to feel something. But I feel nothing.
“I should go home,” I say.
Zeke’s eyes grow wide and he pushes off the wall. “Rocky, please. Just stay with me and talk about this.”
“There’s not much to discuss, Zeke,” I say. I step around him and try to reach the doorknob.
Zeke stands firm between me and the door.
“Rocky — please.”
“Get out of the way, Zeke.”
He puts his hands on my shoulders. His heat flows from his fingertips and enters my body. I can feel it pulsating through me, warming my core. I tremble beneath his touch.
“You can’t tell anybody about this,” Zeke warns.
I pull away and grab the doorknob. With all the strength I have, I pull the door open and knock him out of the way.
Zeke calls after me. I break into a run. My toes pound hard against the floor as I rush down the hall, beelining for the elevator. My heart pounds in my chest, a metronome of thumping blood in my ears.
Just keep going.
I hit the elevator call button over and over again, glancing behind me for any sign of Zeke. It’s not fear I’m feeling right now. But all of my instincts are screaming at me, urging me to resist him. My body is on fire. I can feel my cheeks burning.
“Rocky, wait!”
Zeke enters the foyer just as the elevator doors open. I rush inside and push the lobby button but he’s too quick and he easily boards the golden box long before the doors close behind us.
“Rocky, please, just let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain, Zeke,” I say.
The elevator begins its descent.
“I feel horrible about this.”
I say nothing and keep my eyes fixed to the floor. I grab the railing behind me and take a deep breath to try and calm my pounding heart.
Zeke steps toward me. His hands land on my cheeks and I can feel his breath on my face. “Rocky, please. Let me make this right.”
I stop fighting. I let him pull my face up to look at him. I meet his eyes, his beautiful gray eyes, and they pull me in. His chest heaves up and down. His fingers caress my cheeks.
“Fuck it,” he whispers.
Zeke leans down and locks his lips with mine. It scares us both. His wide eyes search me for clues, looking for an indication of how I’ll react. Every muscle in my body goes tense as Zeke pulls me in a little closer.
I kiss him back. His hands move down my body as I lean into him, my desires on fire. He gathers up my dress and forces his hands underneath, his fingers tickling my skin. I slide into the corner of the elevator and Zeke holds me in place against the wall.
“I love you, Rocky…” he whispers. “I still do…”
My lips brush against his. I try to speak, but I can’t get the words out. My mind and body are in total shock, my adrenaline on overload.
Zeke’s fingers travel closer to my mound. My desire is throbbing, begging to be touched.
A moan escapes me as his fingers graze my nether lips inside my panties. The thrill of it catches me off guard, but I don’t want him to stop. He taps against my clit, each touch sending a shock wave through my core.
“I’ve wanted this for so long…” he groans.
He slips a finger inside of me and doesn’t stop until it’s all the way in.
I moan loudly and writhe against his hand. His finger fucks me over and over again, playing me like a concert pianist. It doesn’t matter what note he wants me to play, I’ll move the moon and skies to make it for him.
Moans spill out of my lips. My eyes flick up. The elevator is still moving. And this is a very busy hotel.
Anyone can board at any moment.
Zeke follows my eyes as they dart toward the elevator doors. He reads my mind and reaches for the buttons. He slams his hand against the emergency brake. The elevator jolts to a stop. An alarm rings out, buzzing loudly in my ears. But he’s back on me in seconds.
I reach for his zipper and yank at his belt. I can’t help myself. My memories play again and again in my head. That night so many summers ago. Zeke was on top of me on the couch. His hands against my skin, underneath my bikini top. He tasted like whiskey. I remember his hardness pressing against me, begging to be stroked.
I feel his growth once again. I slide my hand inside his belt and find his erect prize with ease. Zeke groans at my touch, his lips t
asting my own. He pulls his finger out of me and forces his pants to the floor. His hard cock stands on end as he props me up against the wall.
I wrap my legs around him, the alarm still blaring in my ears. I arch my back, beckoning him closer. I feel his tip on me. I want to pull him in, but his hand is on his cock, lining it up with my dripping slit. I need him inside. Consequences be damned. I just want him now.
He slides his cock into me with closed eyes. I kiss him again, letting him know that it’s all right. He moans for me, his hips pumping slowly. I dig my nails into his back, holding on tight as passion takes hold and I grind against him.
“Oh, god…” I moan into his ear.
The elevator shakes around us as Zeke pounds me harder against the wall. I smile down at him, my pleasures climbing.
“Yes…” he grunts. “Yes.” His hips pulse into me as he plunges deeper inside with each thrust.
I can’t speak. The pleasure hurts too much. I nod my head, small moans escaping my body between kisses. I bite his lips, pulling at him with my teeth. I grab hold of his shoulders, my legs on fire. I worry that I might fall, but Zeke scoops me up in his strong arms, balancing me with all his strength. There’s nothing left to do but be there and feel his thick rod pulling in and out of me until I crack.
I come quickly. My inner muscles spasm around his cock. I fling my head back and scream at the ceiling, a primal shriek of pleasure.
It’s too much for Zeke to handle. I feel his warm spray assault my insides and a deep grunt surges out of his throat.
He falls backward, dropping me to the floor. My feet are weak but I grab the railings just in time to hold myself up. Zeke leans against the opposite wall, his cock slick from conquest. It points toward the floor, covered in both our fluids. The alarm continues to sound. He rights himself, pulls his pants back up, and presses the reset button.
Silence rings in my ears as the elevator comes to life once more and continues its plummet to the bottom floor. I watch as Zeke stuffs his spent manhood back inside and readjusts his belt.
Ding.
The elevator doors open on the lobby just as I press my dress back down.
“Zeke!”
Madison stands behind the doors with her phone against her ear.