Transcending Nirvana (Dark Evoke #3)

by V. L. Brock

By the time we arrived home it was almost 5:30 p.m., and we were instantly hijacked by my dad with approving coos and a sloppy kiss for Mom. After so many years of being together, I loved how affectionate they still were toward each other, but seeing them like it made me both lonely and nauseous.

  “While my lovely girls have been having a well-deserved pampering day, you need to see this…” the excitement radiated from him as he led us through the cream and beech limestone dining area to the double doors.

  My mouth dropped open. The backyard looked phenomenal. With the pool to the left and steps leading down to the highly maintained lawn, garden lights were strewn to everything, alongside a large table adorned with white lilies. Utterly beautiful, and perfect for tonight’s family alfresco dinner.

  “You’ve outdone yourself this time, Marcus,” Mom smiled up at him. He lowered his head and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before drawing all of us into a family hug. I groaned about being squashed between too many adult bodies, while Mom giggled, saying something about me being her baby in the middle.

  Finally, I was able to breathe as we fell apart, and with Brittany practically skipping into the house, squealing, “I suppose we’d better get ready then. Clark will be here soon,” I followed behind, only to pause when I was beckoned by the name, ‘Chickpea’. I turned on my heel and cocked my head as I gazed at Dad with his hands in his gray pant suit pockets.

  “Brittany doesn’t mean to hurt you, she loves him.”

  “I know that, Dad, and I’m happy for her, truly I am.”

  One problem about having too many clothes, there’s too much verity, and making a decision is worse than picking seven numbers on the lottery.

  Eventually, I selected a red one shoulder, asymmetric dress which hugged my curves–– the lengthiest point resting just below the side of my right knee, the shortest at my mid-thigh. I finished it off with strappy red heels and a ruby necklace and bracelet. Red, the color of love…what are the chances?

  The curls in my hair from our spa day had already dropped, so my hair was more waves than curls, which I preferred. I was dusting on some make-up when there was a knock on my door. “Come in…” I called, not bothering with facing the actual door; instead, I simply watched it open from the mirror. My little sister was standing on the threshold of my room, all grown up. She told me that Clark had arrived and even through her elated, loved-up expression, I could sense a degree of apprehension, almost as though it was my decision which could make or break their relationship.

  If he made my sister happy, then that was all that mattered.

  Brushing the gloss wand over my lips, I bashed them together, turned around, and with my heels sinking into the plush carpet, I headed for the door.

  Renouncing the urge to sidesaddle the balustrade and slip down it instead, I descended the lower seven stairs as graciously as possible. Meeting the love birds at the bottom of the staircase, Brittany introduced us. “Clark, this is my big sister, Kady. Kady, meet Clark Garrett.”

  I held out my hand which he accepted immediately. Instead of a traditional handshake though, he placed a light kiss on the back of my knuckles. It made me smile. ‘Old-fashioned men were always keepers’ as our Nan used to say. His lean body was standing at about 5ft 9”. His blond hair was short but natural waves were present. Dark, metal rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, and his lower white teeth were slightly crooked. He had that geeky, innocent air about him which I liked.

  “Who said chivalry was dead,” Mom piped up from beside the overly-large fireplace across the way.

  “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Kady. Brittany’s always spoken highly about you,” he said, tucking my sister under his arm.

  Really? Even after all this time, after everything I had done and the way I treated her? The fact that she was smiling back at me in a, you’re-my-sister-and-I-will-always-think-the-sun-shines-out-your-ass kind of way, had me nodding my head, and I too smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Clark.”

  In the living room, we were each enjoying a glass of champagne, talking about how the two met, when Clark’s light caress on my sister’s naked knee ceased. From his seat beside her, he lowered himself to the flooring.

  Mom and Dad looked on with huge smiles, Brittany was fly catching the way her mouth fell open, while all I could think was: what the fuck?

  He took ahold of her hand. “Brittany Louise Jenson, the day I saw you reading in the hospital to my grandfather, I fell for you. Your wild colored hair and your presence…there was something that drew me to you. I love you, and the thought of not having you in my life shreds my heart. I know we’re not perfect, we argue and you put me in my place. But I can take a lifetime of that over a lifetime without you.” He dove into his breast pocket of his black suit, retrieving a black velvet box. As he flipped the lid, tears wet Brittany’s cheeks, while I was sucker punched in the gut. “Will you marry me?”

  My head lowered, unable to watch the spectacle which was making tears sting my eyes. As selfish as it sounds, all I could think of was how Walker and I should have been in their place, how we deserved to be happy more than anyone. I was consumed by jealousy, and my heart broke once again.

  I barely heard her say ‘yes’, it was only by the animated actions in my peripheral vision, could I distinguish the outcome. It was the sound of blood gushing through my ears, muffling the sounds around me, alongside the further cracking of my shattered heart, which disguised the renditions of ‘congratulations’. The only thing powerful enough to pull me from my selfish musing was my dad’s hand on my shoulder.

  “You okay, chickpea?”

  “Of course,” I sniveled, nodding feebly. “Excuse me,” I added before fleeing the room and heading through the entryway to the kitchen to be alone.

  Concentrating on my breathing and gazing at my ring finger, I was standing immobile with my hands resting on the edge of the kitchen island. I should’ve be ecstatic for my sister, she finally found an all-consuming love…a love I’d only just experienced which was followed swiftly by numerous betrayals. Even so, I couldn’t shift that green eyed demon from my body, the one who questioned the reason why Brittany, my ditzy sister, could maintain a love which I couldn’t. I hated it.

  I heard my name being called, but I ignored it. When it was called again, I dragged my head upwards to the source, only to see my newly transformed sister in the archway. She looked different. That mere sixty seconds had transformed her from my baby sister, to a woman.

  “What?!” I snapped under my breath.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect this at all. I feel terrible.”

  “No,” I snorted, instantly overthrown by guilt. “I’m the one feeling terrible. Come here.” I made my way around the island, closing the distance between us and, snaking my arms around her, I held her against my chest and kissed the top of her head.

  Tearing herself away, she grasped my hand and gave a slight tug. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

  “This isn’t like when we were kids right? Because I really don’t want to see––”

  “Shut up,” she spat, amused. “I was five…”

  “And fascinated with bodily functions, I know.”

  She rolled her eyes which made me smile. As I tottered behind her from the kitchen and we made our way into the room, I could just about hear music being played. When we got to the front door, I asked, “What are you doing?” but my question went unanswered. Instead, the door was pulled open and my senses were overwhelmed.

  At the end of the walkway, pulled up against the sidewalk was a familiar black and silver pick-up, with an equally familiar man resting against the side of it, his ankles crossed, his thumbs hooked through the belt hoops of his jeans. When I saw his head rise slightly, flashing me that timid expression as Far Away blasted from the speakers inside of the truck, my heart lurched from my chest to my throat.

  Strappy heels or not, all I could do was run from the house, down the path framed by shrubs and throw mys
elf into his arms. The power behind his hold constricted my body, but I didn’t care. I needed him like I always needed him, and he was there. Our lips crashed together as the speakers emitted something about loving you all along, and in that moment, consumed by the intensity of our kiss, the world and all the people in it fell away. Through thick and thin, good and bad, through Hell and high water, we did love each other all along.

  I was vaguely aware of catcalls from behind me, while the driver’s door slammed shut and someone walked to my family.

  “Are you really here?” I muttered between kisses.

  “I am; I’m never letting you go. Never again. I love you, darlin’.” His mouth crashed to mine once again. Lowering my feet to the sidewalk, his hands gripped into my hair, holding me steady and burning that intense blue gaze through my body.

  “But how?”

  “He may have money,”––his eyes flashed over my shoulder to the accumulation of people on my porch––“But I have friends…and I’m a persuasive Irishman, what can I say?”

  My heart was swelling; my body shaking heatedly, simply from being on the receiving end of that look alone, nevermind his hands on my body. I didn’t even attempt to stop or reword my declaration when, “I love you, Gerry,” tumbled from my lips. Instead of sadness, he fluttered his eyes closed as though embracing his given name for the first time in over nine years.

  “I know. And I love you so damn much. Can I take you somewhere?”

  I turned back to the house, where Mom, Dad, Brittany, Clark and Laurie were all standing by the front door embracing one another. After days apart, we needed alone time. There was a lot we needed to talk about. So I got into the truck, calling “I’ll be back in a bit,” as Walker made his way around to slip in behind the wheel.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It’s crazy how you can miss someone so much, how you can believe that it’s all over and you’re never going to see them again, but when the entire situation flips and the person you never dreamed you were going to see, smell or touch again, is right beside you, how awkward that feeling is. It was almost like we were strangers to one another again.

  “Take this next right,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around my middle in the seat as we continued down a small, derelict dirt road.

  He tore his gaze from the road ahead and offered a small smile which I reflected. It was one of those, ‘this is insanely awkward, but it’s easier than words’, kind of smile.

  We pulled up on a small hillside hidden by shrubbery overlooking the elevated view of The Old Key Bridge. The sky was black and the reflections of the bridge’s lights shone into the Potomac River. It was a beautiful, secluded spot which was both casual during the day and romantic after nightfall.

  Putting the truck into park, the CD player was left to expel soft rock around the area as he pushed back into the bench seat and loosened his grip on the steering wheel. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Yeah. I used to come here a lot––”

  “To make-out I bet?”

  Scoffing, I tore my attention from the relaxing view to the smirking Irishman beside me, who was tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel. “No,” I drew out, offended, yet his knowing regard had me shaking my head meekly. “Not all the time, anyway,” I smirked back. “Anyway, that was over a decade ago, and I’m not getting any younger. We can’t avoid this elephant any longer.”

  When I turned my entire body to face him, his hands dropped from the wheel to land heavily on his thighs, and on a defeated outbreath, his head fell back against the headrest. “I rehearsed every word I wanted to say to you a million times in my head, you know. I practiced them in the motel mirror a hundred times just four hours ago…” Rolling his head over the rest, his eyes darkened and I felt them scour the article of clothing covering my body, from my flesh. His hungry gaze fell to the top of my thigh, exposed by the asymmetric cut of material. “But seeing you, being face-to-face, having you next to me…” I could see his jaw clenching, and when his eyes meet mine again, my body erupted into waves of goose bumps just by seeing the ravenous beast in his stare. “All I can think of is having that dress around your hips and burying myself in you and making us both forget that the last week ever existed.”

  Against my will, his words spawned a decadent shudder throughout my body and my flesh felt heated, my thighs damp with the thought of him doing just that. God knows if there was one thing we both needed, it was to forget that week had ever happened. Erase it from memory never to be recalled again.

  My head dropped to focus on the stretching material barely covering my thighs when I smiled coquettishly. “So much for the awkward silences,” I whispered. My lids fluttered closed, the leather of the seat drinking in my weighted body as Walker’s hand lifted to cradle the side of my face.

  “Look at me,” he breathed. I was fighting so hard to stay in control, but as I felt the warm air leaving his lips and landing my face, I knew that staying in control was near impossible. As a result, when my lashes left the arch of my cheek, my lips parted and trembled simultaneously. It felt as though we had somehow traveled back in time and we were on the verge of rewarding ourselves for our restraint, once again.

  “You’re my world, Kady. I love the bones off you. I shouldn’t have pushed you away, but I was scared and I questioned how much I could protect you with shite hitting the fan the way it had. But I’m done being scared. I know I can protect you. All I ever wanted was you, and I’m not letting you go again.”

  Before I could get a word in, his mouth was sealed over mine, his smoky breath mingled with the freshness of chewing gum as his tongue slipped between my lips and brushed passionately against me. His caress of my cheek slipped into my hair, holding me firmly yet gently at the back of my head. My hands were mirroring his, slipping into his hair as we lost ourselves in the moment and took back the time that was wasted.

  “Does that mean I’m forgiven?” he gasped, pulling away.

  “I’ve been broken more times than I can count, Walker. I’m trusting you not to break me…” It was when I pulled away from his hold that I noticed a bandage peeking out of the cuff of his black and blue plaid shirt. Frowning as I pulled further away, I muttered, “What happened?” my fingertips skimming along the white, crape material, before gliding over his swollen, grazed knuckles.

  I felt his eyes studying me as I inspected him. When I looked up he was simply smiling at me. “Nothing you need to worry about. It’s all better now, darlin’. Come on, let me get you home. It looked like I interrupted a big family event or something––”

  “My sister and her boyfriend got engaged tonight.”

  “And I just gatecrashed it? Jesus Christ…” Looking guilty as sin, he tossed himself back into his seat.

  “No, you didn’t gatecrash it,” I grinned. “If anything, you saved it.” With a crease carved into his brow, he studied me carefully with a pout, gauging me. “It’s the whole big sister syndrome…big sister is the one to have the first kiss, first boyfriend, first love, and first heartbreak and be the first to walk down the aisle…”

  “Um…” his mouth pulled to the side and I could see the cogs turning and creaking behind his eyes, “Darlin’, are you…asking me––”

  Gasping, my eyes flared and I frantically shook my head. “Oh fuck…no I…it was meant as…oh, fuck.” My palms caught my face when I tossed my head forward, totally humiliated. “I’m so embarrassed,” I muttered behind my barrier.

  The flesh bared by the open back of my dress, was caressed by the rough skin of his hand. He chuckled. “Darlin’, there’s no need to feel embarrassed.” Nothing he could say was going to make me remove my face from my hands. “Hey…” but apparently, the brogue in which those words were spoken could. I finally peeked up all doe-eyed and cringing. “It was my mistake. How can I make it up to you?”

  Make it up to me? At those words, I felt the coil which had been pressed down so tightly the past few days loosen and relax. Rolling my eyes,
I hitched a noncommittal shoulder, licked my lips, and muttered, “Well, it has been over ten years since I’ve been here…”

  A knowing growl vibrated from Walker’s throat.

  “And with it being ten years ago, it meant I was only ever here with boys…never with a real man…”

  “I love your thinking, darlin’,” were the last words to be spoken. He lunged at me, pressing me against the cold steel of the truck’s door, his hand grabbing me behind the knee and possessively gripping his way up the back of my thigh to my ass, as my right leg lifted and was hooked over his hip.

  My hands wandered over the material covering his body, the body I wanted and needed to feel, flesh on flesh. I wanted to feel his heat, his perfect imperfections which made Walker the man I came to trust, love and gave me a strength I couldn’t see myself ever regaining. I wanted him there and then, and I wanted all of him.

  His mouth caught my gasp as his hand kneaded my breast over the red material. My nipple tightened instantly with the contact and I felt that knowing smirk seductively curling against my lips. “Cold?” he asked, amused.

  “Actually, yes. Get naked; I need your body heat.”

  His lips were drawn from mine as he chuckled deeply and I tried to draw them back to my mouth with insistent, persuasive nudges. “I never heard of being naked a requirement for making-out,” he breathed, his lips trailing down my jawline before his tongue slipped down the artery of my neck––“but that just might be an Irish thing.”

  Closing my eyes, I gave myself up to the sensations: the coldness of the door, the griping of leather from the seat, the softness of his shirt hanging open brushing against my thigh, and his tongue and lips sending me into a different world as he worked over my clavicle, sending my head lulling backwards heavily.

  “You’re killing me,” I panted, feeling his fingers making slow work to my inner thigh, then tracing the seam of my thong.

  “Lace…” my flesh was on fire with the way he gasped the word against my breast, “Now who’s killing who?”