Coherent

by Livia Jamerlan

“Shut up.” I braced my hands behind me on the dresser.

  Peyton brought his mouth centimeters from my soaked core and looked up at me. “I fucking love when you’re feisty,” he moaned before his tongue licked over the round barbell.

  My head slammed back against the mirror, and I pushed my cunt further into his face. His palms clenched my thighs, his fingernails digging into my flesh. It was all painful and sweet. Agonizing and gratifying. The Peyton that loved me had temporarily departed. Kneeling before me devouring my clit and its juices was Haas. The fucking master of sex. And the son of a bitch ate my pussy like it was sweet fucking honey.

  His tongue swirled over my swollen nub, and I felt my impending orgasm. But I didn’t want him to have this control over me. I didn’t want him to own me at that moment. I didn’t need his help forgetting. The Oxy did that for me. If I came now, he would win.

  My toes curled, but I refused to climax, I calmed my breathing and focused every fiber in my body on not coming.

  His hand dropped from my thighs. His fingers joined his tongue on my core, flicking my clit before he inserted two fingers deep within me, thrusting them back and forth against my g-spot.

  “Come,” he ordered.

  “No!” I moaned. My feet shook as his fingers drove in me, repeatedly hitting the perfect spot.

  “Come, Lynn.”

  “No, you can’t have it.”

  Haas straightened from the floor, gripped my waist and tossed me on the bed. I barely had a second to catch my breath before I heard a condom wrapper tear. Peyton turned me around, lifting my ass in the air for him before he dipped deep in my core. The hastiness of it was so intense that he had me crying out his name. He began to feed my carnal hunger.

  “I’m not asking you to give me your come, doll.” He held my hips, driving deeper each time, but his words were composed when he spoke. “I’m telling you to come. Lynn, either you let go, or I’ll make you.”

  My knees locked as he continued his pace. I tried to breathe through the tantalizing torture, but I was so fucking close. “Fuck you!” I shouted between whimpers and moans, my eyes focusing on my linked hands. My body yearned for a release, but I denied it.

  “I’m doing that, doll.” His hands wrapped around my hair, pulling it back. His heavy balls smacked against my clit ring.

  “Harder!” I screamed. Peyton slammed into me. His breath came in spurts. “Harder, Haas! Smack my ass.” The words left my mouth before they’d registered in my mind. His hands yanked my hair back, and I felt his hand come across my right butt cheek. I was shocked by how good the pain felt.

  “Again, fuck me hard, hit me harder.”

  His hand came across my butt cheek again as his cock shoved deep into me. My eyes rolled to the back of my head; my walls tightened, chills ran up my spine. I was a goner.

  “That’s it, come for me.” He released my hair and gripped my hips, jamming his cock deep.

  There is a thin line between love and hate. I hated that he had this power over me, but when my body began to release the most satisfying, intense orgasm I had ever experienced, I loved it, savored it, reveled in the shocks that coursed through my body.

  No toy.

  No high.

  No drug.

  No other man could do what Haas had done.

  He’d fucked me into oblivion.

  At some point during my orgasmic high he’d found his own and crashed over my body. He lay on top of me, his tremors matching mine.

  My heavy eyelids closed with bliss, and I let the serenity take me under its wing as I drifted to sleep.

  I woke up in the same position I had fallen asleep in, my eyes focusing in the darkened room. Peyton lay next to me, naked and dead asleep. Though the room was dark, I could make out his perfect face—manly and sexy as ever. I had never watched him sleep before. He looked peaceful. My hands reached to trace out his jawline, but I stopped myself. I couldn’t. Not when I planned on leaving.

  I tucked my hands under my cheek and watched him a little while longer. I loved him. God did I ever. But our relationship had been tarnished.

  I had spent my time trying to forget who I was, what had happened, but he had always lingered in the back of my mind. I also wasn’t a fool; I knew he had been with other women. I’d given him every reason. I’d disappeared, tossed him away. But he was here now.

  I pulled one hand out from beneath my cheek and kissed my fingertips before I lay them on his lips. “I love you,” I whispered. Before I could change my mind, I pushed myself off the bed and quickly got dressed. I grabbed a pen and paper from the desk on my way to the bathroom. He deserved to know my reason for leaving.

  I shut the bathroom light off before I opened the door. Propping the paper on the nightstand beside him, I wiped my tears as I walked away.

  Braelynn

  The sun burned on my shoulders, and the sweat pooled on the lower part of my back as I walked down the long city block that I knew all too well. I knew every crack, every raised sidewalk. I had lived on this block since I moved to New York City. It was home. But my happy feelings of walking home from school or work, or coming home late from a party were now tarnished with a faint memory. I avoided this side of New York City for this specific reason. I couldn’t tolerate the anger and agony I felt when I was here.

  But I needed to get my life in order. I needed to kick this habit, and there was only one person who could help me.

  My legs shook as I took each step up to the front door. I held my keys in my hand, debating whether I should use them. I exhaled slowly, releasing the air that was stuck in my throat, then balled my hand into a fist and knocked on the door.

  Seconds passed. My foot tapped rapidly as I waited for her to answer. I cracked each finger, the anxiety becoming a bit much to bear. When it was all I could take, I turned away from the door to head back down the stairs. Maybe I should have called.

  “Braelynn?” Kennedy asked.

  I grasped the railing as I turned to face her. An awkward laugh escaped my throat before I collapsed on the top step. “Hi.”

  She left the door open and came to sit next to me. “Are you okay?” She rubbed her hand over my head before hugging me.

  I enveloped my arms around her waist and cried. “I need your help, Kenn,” I managed to say between sobs. “Oh, Kenn, I really need your help.”

  “Shhh. It’s okay, honey. Please don’t cry.”

  I pulled away and wiped the tears from my face, then took a couple of breaths before I spoke. “I need your help getting clean.”

  She closed her eyes and nodded her head. A look of relief flashed across her face. “What are you using?” she asked, placing her arm around my shoulder, holding me close to her.

  “Oh God!” I brought my hands up, covering my face. “When did I become this person?” The tears fell from my chin, hitting the bare skin on my thighs.

  “I’m here for you, Braelynn. You’ve been through a lot in the past couple of months, but we’re all here for you, you know that. All you have to do is ask.”

  “I’m asking. Please, I can’t live like this anymore.”

  “What are you using and when was the last time you got high?”

  I dropped my hands and looked out at the street. It was easier than facing Kennedy. “This morning, and I’m addicted to pills. Oxycotine or Oxycodone.” I shrugged my shoulder. “Whatever the pharmacy has on stash.”

  “Pharmacy? How the hell are you getting them from a pharmacy?”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. I needed to be honest with her. “When I was in psychiatric hold, I tried to seduce the therapist. A friend of yours–– ”

  “John Varrasso?”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s his name. I tricked him. I considered fucking him, but then I spilled water on his scrubs so I could steal his prescription pad.”

  “Shit, Lynnie.”

  I took a deep breath and wiped my tears away. “I need your help, Kennedy. This isn’t the person I want to be anymore, and I don�
��t know who else to turn to. I’m sorry.”

  She took my hands in hers and held them tightly. My head rested on her shoulder. “Of course I’ll help you.”

  “It’s going to suck, right?” I feared the pain of the withdrawal. The short time I’d felt it in the hospital was probably more than I could take.

  “No, it won’t be so bad. I’ll take you to the hospital, and we’ll start you on Methadone––”

  “No! No Methadone. I need to do this cold turkey. I can’t take one pill to lose the urge to use another one.”

  “But––”

  “Please. I need to kick this once and for all.” I needed to this without the assistance of any other medication. She stood and reached out her hand for me.

  As we walked inside I noticed that everything looked the same. Nothing was out of place— my pictures and belongings all there as if I had been away on vacation.

  “Come on.” She cocked her head in invitation.

  Kennedy moved toward the bathroom and sat on the edge of the sink with her arms crossed at her chest. “If you want to do this cold turkey, I need you to know that this house will be one hundred percent drug-free. You’ll have to come back here to live, and you can kick, scream, or threaten me, but you will follow my rules, got it?”

  I nodded my head.

  “Okay. First things first…” She pulled back the medicine cabinet door. “Here, dump these in the toilet.” She handed me Advil, Tylenol, and a couple different bottles of cough syrup.

  “Even these?”

  “Drug-free, Braelynn.”

  I dumped the pills in the toilet while Kennedy did the same with the cough syrup and anything else she could find, and then leaned over and flushed the toilet.

  “Now your bag.” I dropped my purse from my shoulder and handed it to her. “Nope. You have to do it.”

  I reached inside, pulling out the two full bottles. I sighed and opened each one before dumping them both in the clear water.

  “Do you have anything else?” she asked. I looked down and shook my head. “And your prescription pad. Do you have that as well?”

  “Yeah.”

  She flushed the toilet and hopped off the sink. “Come on. We’ve got to go burn that shit.”

  I followed Kennedy into the kitchen, and with every step I reiterated to myself that this was the right thing to do. She stood near the stove, a big smile on her face.

  “What?”

  “We’re going to burn the pad like we burned that exam we both bombed freshman year. Remember?”

  Kennedy and I had spent weeks our second semester as freshmen studying for an economics exam. We had pulled all-nighters and were running on caffeine. When the day of the exam came, we were both confident we’d ace it. We would’ve both been happy with a C, but the big F that covered them were a huge shock. Later that night, after much sulking with tequila, we emptied our garbage bins and burned the exams, cursing the professor for being a dick.

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  She took out a deep saucepan and handed me a lighter. “All yours, Lynnie.”

  I dug in my purse again and took out the blue pad, studying it as I clutched it in my hand. This was it.

  Holding the tablet by the corner, I lit the paper. Once the flame grew strong, I dropped it in the pan, and watched it burn. Kennedy’s hand found mine, squeezing it tightly as she bobbed her head.

  “I won’t have any prescription pads with me at all, so there is no point looking,” she stated. She moved to the fridge and pulled out the white wine, setting it on the counter. Returning to the living room, she filled her arms with bottles of alcohol from the bar before walking back to the kitchen. “Okay, one last thing.”

  “Are we having a party?”

  “Nope! They all have to go,” she said, and lined the bottles up on the island. “We have to dump it all.”

  “All?” I questioned. “I don’t even like rum.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I don’t want you to have any temptations.” She removed the cork from the wine and poured the liquid into the sink. I followed suit with the bottle of tequila. Within ten minutes, we had all of the liquor in our apartment poured down the drain.

  “Thank you for this, Kennedy.” I sat on the kitchen stool, my arms crossed on the granite counter top.

  “Don’t thank me yet. You’ll think I’m your worst enemy in a few days.” She pulled the fridge open and pulled out a pint of Talenti. Her eyebrows furrowed before she smiled and slid the pint my way. “The first step is asking for help, Braelynn. We all want to help you, but you need to want to help yourself. You know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I popped the lid off and reached for the spoon. I scraped some of the sorbet onto my spoon, stopping to look at Kennedy. I was broken, but with her help I already felt somewhat normal again.

  “Do you still not remember what happened to you during that week?” she asked.

  I slid the spoonful into my mouth, shifting its cool, velvety texture side to side before swallowing. “Nope. I remember being hit on the head. But sometimes in my dreams I hear conversations.” I lifted my shoulders and tried to smile. “All products of my imagination, I guess.”

  “Brae, if you believe someone took you, if you know deep down that you’re telling the truth, then fuck what anyone else thinks.” Kennedy stood across from me. “We never doubted that something happened. It isn’t like you to disappear on us. Now all we have to do is find a way to figure out exactly what happened.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” I bowed my head, ashamed that I still had no clue what had happened.

  “Well, first things first, we need to get you clean, and then we can worry about the other stuff.” She took the pint from my hands and filled her spoon before handing it back.

  Day One.

  I lay on my bed curled into a ball, my sheet drenched from the sweat of my body. But I didn’t feel hot; instead I was freezing, like the cold arctic wind was chilling my bones. There weren’t enough covers in our apartment to keep me warm. I squirmed from the pain. My limbs ached, and my jaw locked at times from chewing the edge of my pillow. I heard every noise, every car that passed, every step Kennedy took, and every person who walked in and out of the house.

  I heard her on the phone with Loren. Since I was only listening to a one-sided conversation, it seemed that Loren was thrilled I was back here and getting help. My calls to my sister were less frequent in the past month, calling only when she was in school and couldn’t answer so I could leave a message.

  Kennedy had also reached out to Gus and Caleb, but everyone avoided my room. Kennedy had taken all of the sharp objects in the house and hidden them from me. She also stated that the first forty–eight hours were the worst. It had been twelve hours, and I was still awake. The clock on my nightstand said it was four in the morning.

  Just breathe through it.

  But it seemed almost impossible. The muscle spasms came unexpectedly, twisting and turning my body. I screamed, and the hallway light immediately clicked on. I knew Kennedy was nearby, listening to my pain, unable to sleep.

  “K...Kenn…Kennedy,” I stuttered.

  “I’m right here, Braelynn.” She cracked open my bedroom door.

  “Fuck…I don’t think I can … do this.” My jaw trembled as I tried to get the words out.

  “Yes, you can. You’re tough, remember that,” she said, leaning on the wall of my bedroom. “I’m a room away. Shout when you need me.” She walked out and stopped, turning to look back at me. “I’m proud of you, chicka.”

  My stomach turned. Dry heaving in the trashcan next to me only made me feel worse. But Kennedy was right. I was tough, I was determined, and I was going to beat this shit.

  Day Three.

  Kennedy had duct taped oven mitts over my hands so I would stop scratching my skin. The feeling of ants crawling up my skin and biting my flesh had me wailing at the top of my lungs. I was dying. I was being punished for all of the wrong I had done. I had only slept for a few hours sinc
e I’d started withdrawal. My fever spiked so high that my body finally shut down for a few hours.

  I knew ants weren’t biting my skin. I knew it was only my imagination, but it fucking itched like no other fucking possible thing. I moved on the bed like a snake, trying to relieve some of the pain.

  “Fuck!” I cursed when I couldn’t take it any longer. “Please, Kennedy!”

  My bedroom door opened and in popped Gus, eyes bright and a huge smile on his face. “Hi, baby girl.”

  “No, Gus,” I cried, “you can’t see me like this. Please, you have to leave. Go get Kennedy.” I squirmed again.

  “Braelynn.” He leaned down on the bed, cradling me in his arms like a child. “You’re my best friend. There is nothing you can do to make me leave you.”

  Moving out of the bedroom, he carried me down the hallway. “Where are you taking me?”

  “You need to shower, girl. I love you to pieces, but you reek.”

  Kennedy was waiting in the bathroom for us, towels covering the bathroom floor. “Are you getting in with her or am I?” she questioned when Gus placed me on my feet. I used his body to rub against, alleviating the pain.

  “I’m capable of taking a shower.” I moved along Gus’s strong arms. My skin burned like fire and ice.

  “I will.” He yanked on the hem of his shirt, tossing it over his head. “I know you’re capable, but we don’t want you scratching.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  The sound of his voice caused an ache deep in my chest.

  “No. Peyton, please leave. You shouldn’t be here.”

  He ignored my request and took my limp body from Gus’s hold. Gus maneuvered behind him, leaving the tight bathroom. Peyton pulled me closer to him and whispered in my ear, “I’m not going to leave you.”

  Weak from the lack of sleep and food, I held Kennedy as Peyton undressed to his boxers. Kennedy took off my oven mitts, and Peyton pulled my shirt over my head and lowered my pajama bottoms, leaving me in my bra and panties.

  “I’ve got you, Braelynn.” He kept his eyes locked with mine as he stepped into the tub, holding both of my hands in his. I whimpered as I stepped over the ledge of the tub and my feet landed in the lukewarm water. “That’s it, one step at a time,” he whispered. Kennedy grabbed my clothes from the floor, watching me carefully.