Pure Hearts

by Jeannine Allison

  I let out a yelp when my skin met the cool pane. The ledge stopped just before my butt, so the only thing any passerby would see was my bare back and the strap of my bra.

  Nick grinned as he slowly knelt in front of me, his hands resting on the back of my thighs. When his fingers wandered higher, he let out a tortured groan.

  I’d always been modest when it came to clothing. My skirts rarely went above the knee, my tops never showed more than a tiny bit of cleavage and my underwear often resembled that of a ten-year-old girl. I liked cute designs or little bows, and sometimes I went with more luxurious material, but I never ventured into thongs. My butt was always covered. So the fact that I was wearing cheekies felt like a big deal.

  I would probably never venture into thongs, but I had severely underestimated the power of alternative underwear. Because knowing these were under my dress all day had made me feel sexy. And if the hungry look Nick was giving me was any indication, he thought so too.

  “Fuck…” he murmured as his hands molded around my cheeks, squeezing and bringing me closer to his face. I braced my hands against the frame of the window as he stared up at me. His hands skimmed up to my lower back before dipping into my underwear and dragging it down my legs.

  “We’re definitely keeping those,” he said, tossing them to the side. Before I could reply, before I could even think of replying, his mouth was on me. I startled when he lifted one of my legs over his shoulder. But the shock quickly left as arousal took its place. My head tipped back and I moaned as he began lightly kissing my clit.

  One hand rested on my backside while the other moved toward my aching center, running through my folds. He slid two fingers inside and slowly pumped them in and out. The movement pushed me up the window and I could feel the top of my butt against the glass.

  I wondered if anyone was outside. I wondered if they were watching. It was obvious what we were doing, but I didn’t know how clear of a view they would have. Regardless, I couldn’t stop the excitement running through me.

  “It’s turning you on, isn’t it?” he whispered.

  “W-w-what?” I said, even as I felt a blush race across my chest. His eyes darkened.

  “The idea that there’s even the smallest possibility someone could see us.”

  Again, he didn’t give me time to answer. Nick’s fingers sped up as his mouth put more pressure on my clit.

  “N-Nick…”

  My hands moved from the window and I grabbed his head, holding him to me as my orgasm ripped through me, quick and unexpected.

  Everything felt like a contradiction.

  The heat spreading through me against the cool of the window.

  The roughness of Nick’s fingers against the tenderness of his gaze.

  The scream begging to be ripped from me against the whimpers that softly fell from my lips.

  Nothing with Nick was how it seemed.

  As I came down from my high, I started brushing the hair back from his face. He stood up and drew me away from the window before closing the blinds. My hand in his, he led us to the bed and we stared down at the rose petals.

  “I might not have thought this through.” He turned to look down at my near-naked body. “I mean, isn’t it possible for one to get caught up your…?”

  I chuckled. “I love it, Nick.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Of course. And we can crawl under the comforter. No harm. No rose petals in inappropriate places,” I said with a grin.

  He smiled. That heart-stopping, dimpled smile that never failed to make me weak in the knees. But there was also something different about. It was softer somehow, and his eyes… he almost looked like a man in love.

  Before I became the stereotypical girl who got wild ideas of love just because we were at a wedding, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

  It was the kind of kiss that brought tears to your eyes and contentment to your heart. Nick’s lips slowly moved over mine, tender and sure, like I was the last person he’d ever kiss this way.

  Then we slipped under the covers and made love the exact same way.

  Nick woke abruptly. I was still reading in bed when he shot straight up and his wild, panicked eyes met mine.

  “What’s wrong?” I reached for his hand, and found it warm and clammy. He held it firmly as he struggled to catch his breath.

  “I remembered something… about the accident.”

  “That’s great.” I knelt next to him, holding one of his hands to my chest, while I started rubbing his back with the other. “What do you remember?”

  “Lily…”

  I felt the air in my lungs still as my grip became punishing. “What?”

  “The guy… he called back to someone in the car, he called her Lily, and she was… she was screaming.” His eyes became haunted. “She sounded scared. She kept saying ‘we’re gonna lose her.’ And I remember thinking how strange that was. Dammit.” He bent forward, disconnecting us, and gripped his head.

  Lily.

  Lose her.

  That road.

  Could it be…?

  Lily was Calla’s middle name, a nickname Kent called her on occasion.

  No.

  They wouldn’t leave him…

  But they might, if it saved their child.

  He would turn himself in later…

  But he wouldn’t, not if it took him away from his daughter. And not after what happened to his brother.

  All the questions were floating around in my mind, and yet in my heart I knew. Somehow, without any explanation, I knew what had happened that night.

  Kent was the driver who ran Nick off the road.

  Nick dropped me off at my house and before he even left the neighborhood, I threw my luggage in the trunk and got in my car.

  My mind was whirling. Even though I had no proof. Even though all I had was “Lily” and “we’re gonna lose her,” I knew the driver had been Kent. I felt it. Just like I felt the pit in my stomach telling me this would not end well for me.

  God, what had he been thinking? How could he leave Nick there?

  Guilt immediately plagued me. I might not have a niece—or even a sister—if he had stayed. How screwed up was that?

  For the first time in my life, my heart felt like it was being pulled in two completely different directions. I always tried to do the right thing. The paths were always clear, like a child’s fairy tale. One was bright and lined with flowers, while the other was darkened, decayed weeds leading you in to what was sure to be a miserable existence.

  But now both paths looked the same. They were plain, with no distinguishing characteristics to tell me which was the right one to take. And did I even have a choice? Kent and Calla had sent me on their path without me even knowing it.

  They must have known who Nick was; the dinner a few weeks back suddenly made perfect sense. Kent wasn’t looking down on Nick. He was panicking.

  My breathing stalled as I pulled up to their house. It was the picture-perfect home. Red door. Blue shutters. Wraparound porch and a white picket fence.

  Legs shaking, I pulled myself from the car and walked up their front steps. I knocked quickly, still not able to process that this was the first thing I was doing after my incredible weekend. I’d been expecting to lounge around in bed and reminiscence about it all. Now it all felt tainted.

  “Where’s Kent?” I asked my sister as soon as she opened the door, practically storming by her on my way in.

  Her worried eyes searched mine as she held Mirielle on her hip. “In his office,” she answered slowly. “Why?”

  “Good. Follow me.”

  The echo of my shoes followed me down the hallway, Calla’s bare feet barely making a sound behind me. We reached the door and, without even knocking, I pushed it open.

  “What’s the—?” Kent had started to stand, but froze when he saw me with his wife.

  I waved Calla inside and watched as the two exchanged a terrified look, like their world was seconds from imploding. I ima
gined this kind of fear had been a very present aspect of their relationship lately. How could it not be when they were carrying around a loaded weapon?

  My sister took a deep breath. “Iris—”

  “When?” I asked.

  “What?” Kent finally snapped out of his trance and walked around his desk, taking my sister’s hand.

  “When did you know it was Nick you ran off the road?”

  Even though they might have been expecting the words—actually hearing them—seemed to knock them backward. Kent’s hand moved to Calla’s lower back to support her, while she held Mirielle a little tighter.

  Kent cleared his throat. “Since the beginning, when your mom told us you were donating your kidney to someone who’d been in a car accident.”

  “Six months? You’ve known for six months and haven’t said anything? To me? To the police? What were you thinking?” Of course I knew what they’d been thinking. I was still having the same thoughts.

  Kent hung his head and grabbed the back of his neck. “You make it sound so simple.”

  I knew it wasn’t simple, but still… “You left a man to die—”

  “Grow up!” Kent shouted.

  I blinked and stumbled back. Even my sister looked shocked. Kent never raised his voice. He rarely even got upset. That was why his behavior toward Nick had been so bizarre.

  “Just grow the fuck up, Iris. Not everything is black and white. Or have you forgotten your sister was in labor? Dealing with a pregnancy that was already unlikely. Calla could have had a stroke or bled out. Mirielle almost…” His eyes watered as he slumped against his desk and ran a hand over his face. When he looked back up, his eyes were terrified. My sister was softly crying as Mirielle started squirming, probably because Calla was holding her too tight.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” he said softly. “Calla was screaming and crying and I… I panicked. I saw another car coming up the road, so I hopped back in and drove her to the hospital, hoping the other car would see him. I had every intention of reporting myself, I did. But then…” He trailed off and looked down at his daughter. “Then Mirielle was born and I didn’t want to be taken from her. You know what happened with Keith…”

  Everything froze. He hardly ever talked about his brother. I didn’t even know the particulars; it had happened right after high school, before Kent was in our lives. What I did know was that Keith spent two years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. And even though he was eventually cleared of all charges, it forever altered his life—and his family’s. So I could most definitely understand Kent’s reluctance to trust the justice system.

  My brother-in-law cleared his throat. “I’m not saying it’s a good excuse. But… that’s all I’ve got.”

  I felt drained—I’d already argued this point with myself countless times since Nick’s nightmare last night. And not once could I envision a different scenario in which all the people I loved came out okay. I couldn’t imagine the kind of craziness that ensued that night. I didn’t know what I would have done.

  But he’d gambled with Nick’s life…

  “How am I… how am I supposed to keep this from him? Oh God… what if he thinks I knew all along?” My hand was shaking as I brought it up to my mouth.

  “He won’t, Iris. Anyone who really knows you could never think that,” Calla tried to reassure me.

  “You don’t know. You don’t understand. He doesn’t trust easily. And he trusts me.” I looked over at my sister with tears in my eyes. “He finally trusts me.”

  I believed in a world of gray. Nick didn’t. He would never understand. But more than that, I would never be able to keep this kind of secret.

  “Calla, I can’t live with something like this.”

  “Iris, I know what we’re asking is a lot, but I need Kent. You know how long we’ve been trying. It was an accident, and look”—she waved her hand around the room with a forced smile—“everything is okay.”

  “We’re lucky everything is okay, Calla,” I said softly. “Nick could have died.”

  Her eyes shimmered with tears. “I could have too. Or Mirielle. Or both of us.”

  I stopped. Stopped breathing. Stopped blinking. Stopped hearing Calla’s pleas to understand. Stopped seeing Mirielle’s crying face right in front of me. And mostly, stopped pretending I didn’t understand.

  I did.

  She was right.

  Her pregnancy had been high risk. They were lucky to have gotten pregnant at all, and the doctor said if they’d arrived any later they would’ve most likely lost the baby. It would have ripped all our lives apart. But if Nick had died, it would have ripped Catherine’s whole life apart.

  How could the right thing also feel wrong?

  How could I justify something that happened to turn out well? Kent had no way of knowing Nick would’ve survived. So what mattered more? His choice or the outcome?

  Everything was muddled. There was no right answer. I couldn’t justify one either way. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of gray.

  “I… I have to go.” I started to move on autopilot toward the door.

  “Wait!” My sister grabbed my arm and swung me around. When our eyes met, I saw undisguised panic in hers. Before she could ask, I reassured her—well as much as I could, anyway.

  “I’m not going to say anything. At least not right now. The truth is I have no idea what I’m feeling or what I’m going to do. But I promise I’ll talk to you and Kent before I make the decision, okay?”

  Her hand fell away, and even though I knew she was worried, I also knew she understood. “Yeah, okay,” she responded softly.

  “Iris?” Kent called out. I froze, but kept my back to him. “He doesn’t need to know. The damage is done and if he’s already moving forward, maybe this would just hurt him more…” His soft voice trailed off.

  I continued out of their house without another word. Honestly, I was afraid of what words I’d say, and sometimes one word was all it took to destroy something. Like the word Nick recalled from his nightmare, the word that sent me down this path.

  Lily.

  A perfect weekend shattered by one word. In the right context, a single word had the power to derail my entire life.

  I could feel it. It felt like a large weight on my chest, one that was with me all the time, and day after day it got heavier and heavier. I struggled to breathe.

  I’d been avoiding Nick for the past couple days. I didn’t want to, I didn’t even plan to, but somehow something was always coming up. And it always seemed like the most important thing in the world.

  But when Catherine called me and asked me to come over for dinner on Friday night, I had no excuse, and I didn’t want one. I missed Nick.

  When Friday night finally arrived, my nerves were at an all-time high. I knocked on Catherine’s door, rocking back on my heels. It immediately flung open to reveal Nick’s bright smile. The dimples that normally set my heart aflutter now felt like a taunt. I kept thinking, How many more times will I get to see them? How many more times will they be aimed at me?

  “Hey.” He leaned forward and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into him. Nick’s lips met mine, hungry, and it took everything in me to match him. Because I didn’t want hurried kisses, I wanted slow and sweet. I wanted to remember…

  Nick pulled away and brushed some of the hair back from my face. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m just a bit tired.” I smiled—hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt. His hand moved to the back of my head, gently massaging.

  “Hopefully not too tired.” His mouth dipped to my neck and he lightly kissed my pulse. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed.

  “Me too,” I whispered.

  “Quit hogging her,” Catherine yelled as she came up beside us. I chuckled and backed away. She immediately pulled me into a hug.

  “Hi, Iris.” Trevor waved, and I took one hand off Catherine’s back to do the same.

  She stepped back and held me at arm’s length
. “Now I know you’ve been spoiled by Nicky’s cooking, but just remember, you loved mine at one point.”

  Everyone chuckled, but mine tapered off a little early. She noticed and brought the back of her hand to my forehead.

  “Are you all right, dear?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” I tried to wave off her concern, but she frowned, unconvinced.

  Nick began rubbing my back, looking down at me with a little more worry, before addressing his mom. “We might bug out early, just so I can make sure she gets some rest.” And I could tell he actually meant rest this time.

  “Of course.”

  “That’s really not necessary—”

  “You’ve had a pretty busy week,” he said to me. Guilt sat heavy in my stomach, spreading. “We’ll just relax this weekend. I’ll take care of you.”

  Catherine looked incredibly pleased as she bounced toward the kitchen. Nick smiled and led me to the already set table. He held my hand and began asking me about my week. I felt like I was on autopilot as I answered them.

  “Sorry.” I rubbed my head. I’d just answered with “good” for the fourth time.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you sure—?”

  “Dinner’s ready,” Catherine chirped as she came over and set a large platter on the table. After Nick helped his mother and Trevor bring out a few more dishes—he insisted I stay seated—we all joined hands while Nick prayed.

  “Dear Heavenly Father. Thank you for this food you’ve blessed us with today. Thank you for my loving mother. And thank you for Iris, one of the most caring and genuine women I’ve ever known…” He squeezed my hand and it might as well have been my lungs, because I stopped breathing. “Thank you for this wonderful family. Amen.”

  “Amen” echoed around the table, and when I opened my eyes Nick was staring at me. His hand was still in mine and he gave it one final squeeze before he let go. I looked down at my plate, one word circling in my head.