Cuts Like An Angel

by Sabre, Mason

  He pressed his face into the tree, pressing the uneven ridges of the trunk into his forehead and screaming so deeply into it that the wildlife would probably think there was some kind of wounded bear in their woods. He let himself slump against it, landing in the dirt. He pulled his legs up to himself, resting his head against his knees, and letting his eyes close.

  Bitch.

  His limbs grew heavy, the ache in the top of his thighs told him that he had sat there for a long time. It had grown duller, the evening coming in. His phone buzzed in his pocket, bringing him from the oblivion of his mind right then.

  Hey, on your way back, can you please pick up some home-made vanilla ice-cream? I hope you’re not driving like a maniac. Supper is done and I’m going take a long bath. See you soon.

  He stared at it with disbelief. Ice cream. He couldn’t even answer her and it wasn’t Rosie’s fault. He pressed the phone to his mouth and tried to steady his breathing. He had to go home. He had to push William from his mind and just be Josh. Josh, the strong one. The perfect one.

  He pushed himself up and brushed himself down. Squaring his shoulders, he stared at the house … Maria. She wouldn’t ruin this for him. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d cut her off if he had to. With each step he took towards his bike, though, his resolve began to weaken and William pushed into the edges of his mind. By the time he got to it, he couldn’t bare it any longer. But instead of going to Maria, he pulled the other phone from his pocket and dialled Rosie without hesitation.

  “Rosie,” he said when she answered.

  “William? What’s wrong?” She always knew didn’t she? That was why she was so perfect. She always seemed to be in tune with him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Rosie

  Rosie double checked she had all her stuff for a bath and locked herself in the quaint, loo-less room. She didn’t want Josh to get back and come barging in. She imagined the scenario; her bent in some odd position that made her unmentionables look strange and un-ladylike.

  She placed her phone on the tub ledge, where she could reach it. Settling into the hot water, she closed her eyes and sighed, feeling all the physical labor she’d accomplished in the garden. She hissed and lifted her hands, looking at the red spots soon to be blisters. She summarized the day. Then the week. God, her mother was coming in two days …and her sister. Why should she be nervous or care? She forced herself to do the worst case scenario. That should be the whole not getting her money. But it wasn’t. Pretty sure what she cared about was what her mother thought. No she didn’t. She honestly didn’t. So what was she nervous about? Was it her sister? Did she have something to prove to her? Like she finally had a boyfriend she couldn’t steal? Was she nervous because she wasn’t so confident?

  Maybe she was just wanting to prove to them she didn’t need them. Really she didn’t. She wanted so badly to say because she had Josh. And William even.

  William. What was she going to do with him? He liked her, but she needed him to admit that. He had such a low opinion of himself, she realized. The more she talked to him, the more she heard it. He always wanted to talk about her. Any mention of him or happiness, it was like let’s change the subject and slam up the damn walls. Either he was too scared to even consider it, or thinking he didn’t deserve it. Probably both. It seemed important that she helped him face that or see it. How was he ever going to find happiness with that mindset?

  Her mind drifted to Josh then. The way he acted so weird about that cut. What was up with that? She realized something. She was at his home. Alone. Maybe she could snoop a little and find some answers. She yelped at the sudden buzz of her phone on the tub and sat up abruptly, sending water sloshing.

  She glanced at the screen, shaking the water from her hands. William.

  Her stomach flipped with indiscernible emotions as she picked it up, then froze at realizing she was bathing. Not like he could see. What if he was in trouble? She pressed the button and put it to her ear.

  “Rosie,” he said on the other side.

  “William? What’s wrong?” She sat forward in the tub.

  “Nothing. I know it’s early, and I was supposed to get back to you about that other stuff. Are you alone?”

  “Yes, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just. Past demons, nothing new.”

  She settled carefully back into the tub. “Tell me.”

  “Where are you?”

  “The same place I was earlier.”

  She counted the heartbeats in the silence wondering where his mind was on that front now. Or any front. “Where is he?”

  “He’s … gone to the store.” She bit her lip on the lie. “He’ll be back soon.”

  “How are you, sweet Rosie?” The soft lilt of his voice eased the tension in her stomach and she relaxed more into the tub.

  “I’m fine,” she said, trying to keep her voice firm. More silence filled the phone until the tension slowly crept back in. Why did it feel like he was weighing her every word?

  “What did you do today?”

  “We just cleaned up around here. My mother is coming with my sister.”

  “Your mother and sister?”

  “I didn’t tell you?”

  “No, I don’t think you did. Why are they coming?”

  She was glad for the topic away from her and Josh. “Supposedly to ensure I’m fit to inherit money. They’re rich snobs and if you’re not the same they assume you’re irresponsible. So naturally she’ll come here and see what a loser I turned out to be.”

  “So you …”

  “So I said I was quite successful and in a relationship. With a doctor.”

  “Josh is a doctor?”

  “No! And we’re not in a relationship.”

  “But you want to be,” he said.

  She decided to turn the tables. “Do you?”

  He let out a long sigh. “For you, yes.”

  “What about for you?”

  “Sure. What does Josh want?”

  A laugh shot out of her at his quick evasion. She’d let it ride this round. “Good question.”

  “Is it?” he sounded mildly curious and Rosie decided to see what he thought about it. “Somebody calls him. A woman. And he goes to her.”

  “Probably a friend?”

  “That’s what he says.”

  “And … you don’t believe him?”

  “I think he’s hiding something about it.”

  “Like what?” he wondered sounding hesitant.

  “I have no idea. Something … I don’t know.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing. He wouldn’t be having you at his house if it were anything serious.”

  “Hm,” she said.

  “You should try to trust him,” he said.

  “Why?” she asked, kind of annoyed about it.

  “Well, he’s not really given you any reason to not trust him, has he?”

  She thought about it and didn’t really find anything. “No.”

  “Good,” he said.

  “Why do you care if I trust him?”

  “I want you happy, Rosie. You like him.”

  “About that,” she said. “You got my answer?”

  He was quiet for a bit. “Which one?”

  She rolled her eyes. “The one you needed a couple of days to give me?”

  “Ah that,” he said.

  “What other answer is there to give me?”

  “I’m not sure, Rosie, I’m just asking to make sure. Are you mad at me?”

  She waved her hand in the water, deciding to just be honest with him. “Yes, I think I am.”

  “Okay, Rosie,” he said.

  “Okay?” her anger spiked. “That’s it? No, why am I angry?”

  “No,” he said. “I get it.”

  “What do you get?”

  “Why you’d be angry.”

  “And why is that?” she sat forward now.

  “Because that’s what I do, Rosie. I screw things up, I make people hate me,” he s
aid casually. “It’s an inborn thing, I’ve known how to do it from birth, I don’t even have to try. It just happens.”

  “Bullshit,” she said.

  “What?”

  “You heard me, bullshit.”

  “What is?”

  “Everything you just said. None of it’s true.”

  “Okay Rosie,” he appeased.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What am I doing wrong now? See? I don’t even have to try.”

  “Stop this,” she ordered. “Stop pretending like you’re doing anything wrong.”

  “Then what are you upset about?”

  “How you always knock yourself down,” she cried. “Always act like you’re so bad when you’re not. No,” she interrupted his attempt to talk. “Don’t say it. Don’t say another word against yourself, you’re really upsetting me.”

  “You have a gift Rosie,” William finally said after a long while. “To see things in people that may not be there. I mean yes something is there, but what you see isn’t … really what’s actually there,” he added, like he was trying to spare her feelings.

  What he implied sat her up in the tub, sending the water splashing loudly. “Are you seriously saying I’m blind to what I see in you? Making it up?”

  She waited in the sudden silence. “Are you in the tub?” Ah shit. “You are, I heard the water. God Rosie, you’re taking a bath while I’m talking to you?”

  “I’m sorry,” was all she could manage at hearing his tone. He sounded shocked and maybe disappointed or devastated. The sudden need to get out was met with the worry of him hearing the water again and envisioning her naked.

  “I need to stop calling you,” he mumbled. “I really do.”

  Alarm shot through her. “Why?”

  “Because," he strained in barely contained agony. "I want what can never be.”

  He’d just admitted his feelings again, and Rosie found herself breathless at hearing it. She wanted to confront them and didn’t know where to start or how to feel. She needed to understand what she felt about how he felt first it seemed. It all caused an explosion of emotions with no exact names. She knew that she loved and hated what he’d just said. Loved and hated that he felt that way about her, loved and hated that she was thrilled and sad and scared all at once.

  “I want my answer, William,” she whispered, not trusting her voice. “All of it. I have to know exactly how you feel about me”

  She was sure he was going to hang up when finally, he said, “Fine, Rosie. You want it, you’ll have it,” like he was about to confess a crime that made her feel like maybe he was right, maybe she didn't want to know or hear. “I think about you every second of every day," he began. "I imagine you doing things with me, to me and me to you. I want to be every him that ever looked at you, touched you, smelled you, tasted you. I want you to be mine and only mine. I want to never share you. I don’t even want children with you because I can’t fathom sharing you with anybody, not even our own blood. And listen to this, Rosie," like this would be the nail in the coffin. “All the pain this causes me? The agony? The torment? I love it all so much,” he whispered like it cut him into a million shameful pieces to say it. “I love the agony of having you right in arms reach and the crucifixion of denying myself.”

  Rosie sat there, feeling more naked than she’d ever felt in her life. She gripped the phone tightly to her ear, shaking.

  “I’m sorry Rosie,” he said in strained regret when she couldn’t speak from the shock of his confession. “I tried to spare you, but I think you needed to hear it. You need it so you can be smart and choose without wondering. Josh is normal. Josh is the man you want to be with. He’s the man who will overcome anything for you. I’m the one that will use you to fulfil all my sicknesses. You’re my addiction. You are the person I need to be away from, not with. Do you understand?” he asked gently.

  Rosie was still stuck on shock at his confession. Not in a million years had she expected to hear that

  “I think we shouldn’t talk anymore Rosie. Don’t you think? I think you should end this with me and please, go be with Josh. He’s there for you. He’s normal. You deserve that.”

  The phone buzzed in her ear, and she jerked it away, staring. She put it back to her ear. “It’s my mother,” she strained, swallowing down her emotions. “I-I-I need to take the call. Maybe she’s cancelling, right?”

  “Bye Rosie,” he whispered then hung up.

  The finality in his tone made her gasp. She couldn’t face her mother now. She couldn’t face her sister, or herself. God, what if they were cancelling? She quickly dialled her back. “Hello?”

  “We’re coming in early, thought I’d give you a head’s up,” her mother’s voice said the second she picked up, shooting panic through Rosie.

  “What? We-we have plans, when are you coming?”

  “It’s barely a change. We’ll be there tomorrow night instead of the following morning, I believe. I’ll have to check with Lacey,” she droned, like they spoke daily and was bored after ten seconds.

  “Fine then,” Rosie said. “I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

  “Don’t be late.”

  “We won’t.”

  “Oh, so you’re both picking us up?”

  The tired tone pricked her skin. “Yes mom. Josh doesn’t like me driving alone at night. He’s very protective of me.” He loves me, she wanted to add but why would she say it besides to rub it in her face. They’d see it soon enough with their own eyes.

  After she hung up, Rosie bathed properly and paused at seeing the slutty outfit she’d picked out. God, she couldn’t wear that now. Not after talking to William. Not after hearing all those things he said. Not after feeling all the things she felt.

  She remembered her idea to dig around a little while Josh was gone. Now, more than ever, she felt the need to find answers. Maybe she’d start in that room he’d been cleaning up for her. That thing in his attitude that niggled at her mind, maybe it was connected to it. She was sure he had bad memories in the house and now she wanted to know all about them and why. She needed to know especially how Josh felt about her.

  She suddenly jumped at hearing thunder and the lights flickered a little. Shit. Another banging reached her ears, sending her shooting up out of the tub. She shook out the thin folded towel as heavy steps pounded on the stairs, sending terror shooting through her. God. Who the hell? She’d locked the door. Hadn’t she?

  A door banged nearby as she wrapped the towel around her and carefully opened the bathroom door. She screamed at finding Josh’s face there.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said, his eyes lowering over her.

  Alcohol permeated the air between them. “You’re drunk?”

  His eyes lifted to hers and the heat in them made her knees weak and jittery. “Not hardly,” he whispered. “I have to talk to you.” His gaze lowered again as though he wanted to do something different than talk.

  “I’ll get dressed,” she whispered, not trusting her voice.

  He didn’t hide the heat as his stare locked on hers now. She fought for air as he barely said, “No. I need to see you.” He pushed the door slowly open and she stepped back, finally understanding what he meant. He wanted to see her. Literally.

  How long had she wanted that very thing? Ages it seemed. So why was she suddenly terrified?

  “Take it off,” he said.

  William’s voice echoed in her head like a gong of guilt. She swallowed and took another step back. As though sensing her conflict his sparkly dark eyes rose, pleading, burning. “Take it off,” he said again.

  Reckless hunger roughened his whisper as she fought to think past the heat and fear rolling through her side by side. She was mesmerized, riveted by the man before her. Stricken. Terrified with what was happening, right now, right in that moment. And why did he suddenly want this, need it? Something had set him off. Was it that woman?

  Fire burned a trail through her stomach, acid mixing with desire
. And yet, her limbs seemed ensnared by some spell as her hands lowered slowly, taking the towel with them as they did.

  His gaze went quickly, greedily to her chest and the weight of it hit her nipples, making her whimper in surprise.

  Bearing her nakedness to him like that … was like she peeled back her soul. The fear of what he thought had her breaths shaky and shallow as she stood there, completely bare before him now. Bare before his slow moving inspection paused now at the juncture of her thighs. His intense study felt just like a hot tongue, bringing a throb to her nipples and privates.

  His hands seemed to absently rise to the buttons on his shirt. Those eyes finally made it to hers and locked hard to hers. The connection drew more whimpers, louder now. Helpless to what was coming.

  And it was certainly coming. She had no idea what, only that it was.

  Her mouth now dry, she licked her lips. It was her turn to stare at his bare chest. The phenomenon of muscle moved beneath his silky skin as he peeled off his wet shirt and dropped it to the floor. Her eyes followed the bright red lines lining his forearms, cuts that looked fresh.

  When he stood there, she looked at him in dizzy wonder.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Josh

  Take it off … he heard the words like the distant echo of his thoughts suddenly come to life and spoken without him prompting. He breathed so hard as he stood before Rosie, her skin glistening with the water droplets and fuelling his desire even more. The slight tinge of pink to her complexion from the heat of her bath caused his heart to pound with longing. He could imagine what it would feel like to touch her … warm, wet … Shit. His head swam. His mind desperately clambering for him to stop this.

  No. He wanted Rosie. She wanted him. It was past time to affirm that.

  Shirtless, he stood there exposed like his very soul was showing, but he needed this. He needed to see her … to touch her. Her ragged breathing said she needed him too. He kicked his shoes off, standing on the wet tiled floor and not giving a damn about it. Her gaze fixed on his chest. The scars marring his skin—new scars, old scars … scars long since healed that he’d forgotten how he had acquired them.