by Regan Ure
"I love you too."
The call ended and I sat for a while after just staring down at my phone. I rubbed my forehead as I tried to think of a way to make sure Connor didn't see Sin. I let out a sigh when I realized that I couldn't let my brother control my life. I was old enough to make my own decisions and even if he didn't like the decisions I made, they were mine to make.
Feeling tired, I lay down on the bed as I waited for Sin to return. I curled up in a ball and held my phone to my chest as I let myself relax for the first time since the attack. I must have fallen asleep because the next time I opened my eyes, it was dark. The darkness reminded me of the darkness in the stairwell. I felt something touch me and I shot up in the bed.
The memories from my attack assaulted me and I found myself trembling as I remembered my assailant pushing me against the wall. The fear I'd felt at that moment returned. My heart pounded so fast I put my hand to my chest.
"Hey, it's just me," Sin said to me as he sat up beside me.
I put my hand to my head as I tried to breathe through my panic. Gently, Sin put an arm around me and pulled me against his bare chest.
One minute ticked into two. I began to relax and my heart began to slow down. It was the warmth from his embrace and the steady beating of his heart under my ear that soothed me. The fear began to disappear as I shoved the memory of the attack into the back of my mind.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, feeling like an emotional mess.
"It's okay," he soothed gently as he stroked my hair. I pulled back slightly and looked at him. The moonlight lit the room enough to see the outline of his features.
His fingers reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. I ran my tongue across my bottom lip as I felt the soft touch of his fingers against my skin. Something sparked to life inside of me. Without even questioning it, I leaned forward and kissed him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Taylor
He kissed me back but not with the same fierce intent he normally did. It was like he was holding back. I pulled away from him, feeling vulnerable and confused at his actions.
"What's wrong?" he asked when I shifted away from him slightly.
"Don't you want me?" I blurted out, feeling embarrassed at the rejection.
He pressed his lips together for a moment. That little hope that it had been my imagination vanished. There was something wrong.
"I'm not sure if this is really what you need right now," he said. His eyes held mine as I clasped my hands together. "You were attacked tonight. You've been through so much, it has been an emotional roller coaster."
I didn't need to be reminded of what had happened. Every time I thought about it I wanted to be sick. The way his body had pressed up against mine had made me feel dirty. I understood why he was so hesitant to let things go further, but he didn't understand why I needed this so much.
"When he attacked me, he pushed his body...against mine," I tried to put my need into words. "I need you...to wipe that memory from my mind."
"I don't think that's going to help you deal," he told me.
"Please."
He studied me for a few silent moments.
"Come here," he said softly in the darkness.
I moved closer and he leaned forward. His lips touched mine gently. His kisses were usually fierce and demanding, leading to physical gratification, but this was different. He moved his lips against mine softly as he cupped my face and pulled me closer. Maybe it was because he wanted to be careful with me because of the attack. I ran my tongue lightly over his bottom lip and against his lip ring. I heard a sharp intake of breath as he opened his mouth and touched his tongue to mine.
A flutter of excitement ignited in me when his tongue swept into my mouth. I covered his hands cradling my face and closed my eyes as I felt the sensation of need sweep through me. Moments of the attack flitted through my mind, but I pushed them back. I was determined to erase the violating memories with this new memory of what Sin was doing to me. As if sensing my inner turmoil, he pulled his lips from mine and gently pushed me down onto the bed. I bit my lip as I felt my nervousness increase as I felt his body cover mine. For a moment I stiffened as the memory of my attacker pressing his body against mine came back through my mind.
"It's okay, it's me," Sin murmured softly as he held himself up with his hands on either side of me. I relaxed and opened my legs and he settled between them as he kissed me again.
He kissed me thoroughly and trailed kisses down my jaw. I was breathing hard by the time he lifted himself off me. I lifted my hips as he tugged my pajama shorts off along with my panties. In the darkness, he tugged off his clothes. He got a foil packet out of the drawer beside his bed and put the protection on. The bed dipped as he got onto the bed and helped me remove my top. He kissed me as he pressed his naked body against mine.
Usually he would ask me what I needed and sometimes he'd talk dirty, but this time he was quiet as he began to kiss his way down my body. There was a tenderness in his kisses that had never been there before. He moved above me and I wrapped my legs around his waist as I felt a need to have him inside me. His lips pressed against mine as he gripped my hips and thrust inside me with one stroke. I hitched my breath at the fullness I felt. He began to move in and out of me with a steady rhythm and I held onto his shoulders as I felt my orgasm begin to build.
Sweat mingled as our bodies moved together toward the release we both craved. With soft touches and kisses, he erased the horrible memories. There were no more dark memories; all that mattered was the tattooed boy who made me spin out of control.
I shattered into a million pieces and moments later he pushed inside me one last time as he came. Breathing hard and sweating, he leaned his forehead against mine for a moment and I hugged his body to mine. That was the exact moment I realized that there was no way I would be able to walk away from him without feeling the heartbreak that I'd been determined to avoid.
He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek and then he shifted off me. While he went to dispose of the protection, I lay in the bed with a sheet covering my nakedness wondering how I could have let myself care about him. I knew falling for a bad-boy wasn't a good idea. It was only going to bring me heartache. But the problem was any logical reasoning went out the window when I felt the warmth of feeling in my heart at the sight of him. I was pretty sure I was falling for him.
When he returned, he got into the bed and lay down beside me. We didn't touch; we just both lay on our backs looking at the ceiling in the darkness.
"Is Sin your real name?" I asked. I wanted to know more about this guy whom I'd fallen for.
"Yes," he answered. It was hard to believe that someone would name their son that.
"It's unusual. What made your mom choose that?" I asked, not quite sure if I was crossing a line by asking him so many personal questions. A few minutes of silence settled between the two of us and I was convinced he wasn't going to answer my question.
"My mom had an affair with a married guy," he revealed. "She was young and from the wrong side of the tracks when she met a rich, married guy who swept her off her feet. They started having an affair. He kept telling her he was going to leave his wife, but he never did...then she got pregnant with me."
Oh, wow!
"The day she told him she was pregnant with me was the last time she saw him," he explained. "She named me Sin so she would always remember how I came into this world."
"That's horrible," I said as I shifted onto my side to look at him. I couldn't believe a mother would do that to her son. It hadn't been his fault; it had been her mistake. I wanted to hug him, but I stayed still.
"It's okay. I like the name," he said as he turned to face me in the darkness. "The girls love it."
The girls loved him, but it had nothing to do with his name. I wasn't sure if he was serious about his last remark or if it was an attempt to cover up the hurt.
"It’s also a reminder to me that people are human and they make mistakes. My mom made a mista
ke believing my father's lies."
A heavy silence descended. It was a depressing way to view people. It was like meeting a person for the first time and already taking for granted that they were going to fuck something up.
"Did you ever meet your father?" I asked tentatively. I knew it was a really personal question and I wasn't sure if he was going to be prepared to answer it. He seemed to consider my question for a moment.
"No," he answered. "He wasn't really a father in the true sense of the word. He was just a sperm donor."
He shifted to lie on his back with his hands behind his head.
"Did he ever try to contact you?" I kept probing, unable to believe someone would turn their back on their child.
"No, and then he died a couple of years ago."
I remembered him telling me that his father had died when I'd told him about my parents' death. It was a finality that was hard to face. He'd never met his father—or, sperm donor—and the fact that he was dead meant he never would. My heart hurt for the fact that his father had never shown him any interest and he had no idea how it felt to have a father who loved you. I knew that feeling. I hadn't felt that in a long time, but at least I'd felt it.
I swallowed the emotion that bubbled to the surface. My parents had loved me. But then one dark night they had been taken away from me. I closed my eyes for a moment to keep myself together as a brief memory from that night passed through my mind.
The loss that I'd felt had been like a piece of me had died along with them and there was no recovering from it. All I could do was try to ignore it and carry on. The easy option would have been to allow it to crush me and take away my will to live. But I persevered because my parents had given up their lives to protect me and simply giving up was taking their sacrifice and throwing it away.
That was the thing—no matter how crushing the loss of someone close to you was, life kept moving along. Maybe it was a good thing so you couldn't just fall apart and never put yourself back together. Perhaps it was life's way of pushing you along until you started living again. I let out an emotional sigh. Some days it was hard to carry on without them and then there were days when it was impossible.
"I'm sorry," he said softly as he reached for my hand and held it in his. "I didn't mean to remind you about your parents."
He was so sweet. Little did he know it was the horrors from their death that made it harder to handle.
"It's okay."
"How old were you when they died?" he prodded further.
"I was nine."
There were times I'd wished I'd been younger so the memories of my parents' death would have been forgotten. But I'd been old enough to remember everything clearly.
"Do you still see your mom?" I asked, redirecting the conversation to him.
He was silent for a few minutes.
"Yeah, I check up on her every week. She doesn't live far from here," he said as he shifted on his side. I lay on my side, facing him.
"She never quite recovered from the rejection from my father. From then on, she tried to find solace in the form of alcohol," he revealed further. My heart tightened at the realization that his childhood had been hard. Maybe even as hard as mine. It was difficult to think that he didn't have a father and that his mother was an alcoholic who could barely look after him.
"Who took care of you?" I asked the question, already knowing the answer.
"I did," he stated as a fact.
"I'm sorry," I said, knowing it was inadequate. But what did you say to someone who'd told you that no one had loved him enough to put him first?
"Don't feel sorry for me. I had Slater and he had me," he said. I had to keep myself from letting the sadness of his words wash over me; otherwise, I would have started to cry.
I also knew they were close, but now I was getting a little insight into their deeply formed friendship. Had Slater grown up with no one to look after him either? My heart broke at the image of two young boys growing up with no one to love and care for them. It made me angry that people would have children that they didn't want. The lack of love and affection was detrimental to a child who was unwanted. I was thankful I'd been loved even if that love had been taken away from me at such a young age. At least I remembered the love that my parents had felt for me. It was the type of love that had saved my life.
"Does Slater have any siblings?" I asked as I looked at the outline of the guy who meant more to me than he should. He would walk away and it would break my heart. Walking away now was pointless; it wouldn't ease the heartache that was to come. With the lack of love from his childhood, I wasn't surprised that he was the way he was. How could you expect him to love someone when he didn't know how?
"He had a sister," he revealed softly. Had. My inquisitiveness grew.
"What happened?" I asked, unable to stop myself.
"It isn't my story to tell."
My heart broke a little more for Slater. The next time he hugged me I would hug a little tighter.
"Did you tell Jordan about all the strange stuff that had been happening?" he asked, changing the subject. I rolled onto my back and let out a sigh.
"No."
"Even after the incident with your underwear?" he asked. I could hear the shock mixed with anger in his voice.
I remained silent, knowing he was getting angry. How could I explain that I hadn't thought it would lead to me being attacked? Never once before today's attack did I think it would escalate.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?" he asked, trying to figure out why I'd kept quiet.
"Because at the time I didn't think it was a big deal." It was a weak explanation, but it was all I had.
"Did you think ignoring it would make it go away?" he asked, sitting up. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was angry and agitated.
"Hey, I've had a rough day and I don't need you lecturing me on top of everything else," I bit back, sitting up as well. I kept the sheet against my chest with both hands to cover my nakedness as I rubbed my forehead.
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It’s just that there is a naivety about you that I've never seen in a person before."
I couldn't tell him why I was the way I was.
"So naive that I keep worrying that something really bad is going to happen to you," he said. I had mixed feelings about that statement. I should be happy with the fact that he cared about me, but the way he said it hurt. It was like he didn't want to be burdened with worrying about me.
"Like not taking drinks from strangers."
He was right. If I'd been a normal teenager growing up, I would have known that, but I hadn't.
"It's like you haven't experienced anything that most teenagers have and I can't figure out why."
He was starting to figure everything out and I could feel myself start to panic. Even though it was dark and he wouldn't be able to read my expression, I dropped my gaze in an attempt to hide my secret. The cop earlier this evening had recognized my name for a reason and I was just lucky he couldn't remember why it had seemed familiar to him.
"You're not going to tell me, are you?" he said softly. The moonlight illuminated him as he crossed his arms over his chest.
My silence answered his question. I couldn't tell him.
"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?" he asked tightly. "I bared a part of my soul to you, but that doesn't make any difference."
Guilt made my heart suddenly feel very heavy in my chest and I swallowed hard. If I told him, it would ruin everything. Was it asking too much to want to start over somewhere where no one knew what had happened? I wouldn't have to see those sympathetic looks that reminded me daily of what I'd been through. I pulled my knees to my chest as I lifted my eyes to Sin. He moved off the bed and he picked something up off the floor. He pulled his jeans up and then he turned to face me.
"I should’ve known better," was all he said before he walked out of his room.
I rested my forehead against my knees as I felt the sting of tears. I'd really
messed things up. Just when I was getting to know him a little better, he'd pulled away from me completely. And could I blame him? No, I couldn't. He was right. He'd opened up to me and in turn I'd refused to let him in.
I felt my heart crack a little. I'd done it to myself and I wasn't sure if there was any way to fix the damage I'd done. Sin didn't strike me as the type to blab about his childhood so he'd trusted me enough to talk to me about it. I had my reasons for not wanting to tell him about my past and none of them had anything to do with trust, because I trusted him with my life.
A few quiet tears slid down my face and I wiped them away. I'd really messed things up and I was pretty sure our arrangement was over. I doubted that Sin believed in second chances so even if I revealed my secret to him, it still wouldn't fix things between us. I lay down in his bed and hugged a pillow as I buried my tear-streaked face in it. I inhaled him and held onto the precious memories he'd given me.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Taylor
Sin never returned and I didn't go looking for him. He was angry and it was best to give him space until he cooled down. Somehow I drifted off into a restless sleep. When I woke up, I was tangled in the sheets and the sun was streaming through a gap in the curtain. I felt exhausted even though I'd slept a little.
I sat up and stretched. The sight of the bruises on my arms reminded me of the events from the previous night. I dropped my head into my hands when I remembered my heated conversation with Sin before he'd left. As much as I wanted to hide away from him and the world, I needed to face my problems. Hiding would only give me a temporary reprieve, but it wouldn't solve anything. I checked my watch and saw that it was seven. I didn't waste any time. I got up and got dressed. Out of habit, I made the bed before I went across the hall into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. The house was quiet and I doubted that anyone else was awake.
Quietly, I packed all my stuff into a bag and made my way downstairs. I hesitated on the last step as I saw Sin sprawled on the couch, sleeping. He looked so peaceful while he slept, lying on his back with his one arm flung over his eyes. I felt a pang of guilt at the fact that he'd opened up to me and I'd refused to tell him about my past.