Kiss Me Twice Part 2 (Three Little Words)

by Lauren Hawkeye

  Kiss Me Twice (Part 2)

  Lauren Hawkeye

  Published by Calluna Vulgaris Books, 2014.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  KISS ME TWICE (PART 2)

  First edition. October 20, 2014.

  Copyright © 2014 Lauren Hawkeye.

  ISBN: 978-1928068181

  Written by Lauren Hawkeye.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

  Other books by Lauren Hawkeye

  About the Author

  Linger Excerpt

  Hollow Excerpt

  Chapter One

  ADELE

  The last six months had taught me that when the going got rough, I could turn to Malachi or Dorian for a shoulder to lean on. It had been nice to have someone to help ease my burden.

  The problem? Those two damn men had broken down my barriers, the ones that forced me to rely on no one but myself. And right then, with both of them mad at me—unjustifiably so—I’d lost my safety net.

  “Can’t rely on anyone but yourself.” I muttered this to myself as I worked at the lock of the school gym door with a credit card. After a few frustrating tries, I caught the latch, and it fell free with a satisfying snick.

  The door creaked as I opened it, and rather than shying away from the noise, I found myself grinning, a hint of adrenaline trickling through my veins.

  Before I’d ever met Mal, I’d taught myself to break into places just for kicks. I’d never stolen anything, I’d just craved the rush that came with being someplace I wasn’t supposed to be.

  I’d stopped all of that, of course, when I’d wanted to just blend in. But tonight?

  I needed to channel a bit of the old me that I used to be.

  Propping the door open—if anyone asked why I was here, I’d just say that Nina had let me in and then left—I groped for the light switch before I moved from the doorway. I knew the gym where we held our derby practices was empty, but I’d learned the hard way to be careful.

  The overhead lights flickered before catching, casting the room in a fluorescent glow as I dropped to the front of the bleachers to tie up my skates. Every sound I made echoed throughout the cavernous gymnasium, but rather than being eerie, I felt my nerves calm as my entire self realized that I was finally, blessedly alone.

  Not having Mal and Dorian to be a net for me as I fell had sent me reaching for something that linked my past and my present together. Something that had gotten me through the hard times before, but that wasn’t only symbolic of pain.

  As I pushed off from the wall, my legs began to move automatically. My mother taught me to skate when I was just little, and by now it was second nature to me. Not having to think about how I was moving let me focus on the burn in my thighs, my calves as I picked up speed, and my breathing as I channelled my fury at Mal and Dorian into the movement of my body.

  The gym spun around me as I moved, faster and faster still. It actually wasn’t safe to go at the speed that I was in an enclosed space, especially since I wasn’t wearing any of my protective gear.

  Yesterday I would have been good and put on my helmet, my shin and knee pads.

  Today? I just couldn’t bring myself to care. Maybe if I fell, the physical pain would distract me from the turmoil that rolling around inside.

  Breathing hard, I rounded a corner, ground my teeth together, and geared myself up to go even faster.

  But the angel sitting on my shoulder was suddenly louder than the devil, telling me in no uncertain terms that this was stupid. Just because I was in a relationship with two pigheaded idiots who wanted to control me, didn’t mean that I had to revert to self-destructive behavior.

  What’s more? Though they were going about it in a way that really pissed me off, I knew that both Mal and Dorian just wanted to protect me.

  And the voice in my head that was forcing my legs to slow down to an easier pace... well, it wasn’t entirely the influence of my guys. No, that voice was my own, one that hadn’t existed a few years ago.

  Life had forced me to grow up and I knew that it would be better to go talk—or even yell—this out with the guys, than to put myself in harm’s way.

  Snorting to myself inelegantly, I coasted around the gym, working out the burn in my legs from pushing so hard. I caught movement from the corner of my eye as I rounded the far corner, and jolted suddenly with fear, my feet tangling over each other, leading me straight into the concrete wall.

  I shrieked, the sound echoing off the high ceiling, as fear filled me, an involuntary response. Flinching before I could even look twice at whatever it was, I huddled against the wall, the chill of the rough surface a sharp contrast to my sweaty skin.

  “No!” I could feel my heart thudding in my chest as, suddenly, I pushed myself away from the wall.

  I wasn’t going to be vulnerable. Wasn’t going to succumb to the demons of my past. Planting my feet as best I could in my skates, I swiped strands of sweaty hair from my face and turned, squinting across the gym.

  “It’s all right! I’m with the police!” The voice was warm and ever so faintly familiar, and it had me whirling to find a cop in full uniform, holding his hands out, palms facing toward me.

  I pressed my own palms back against the wall, the chill anchoring me in the present.

  “Show me your badge.” I croaked. But even as I said it, the memory surfaced from the fog.

  Sitting in a small cubicle in the local police station, contemplating the beige upon beige upon beige of my surroundings in an attempt to keep myself from going crazy. Telling my story to a gruff old officer who, after seeing the photos of my torment that had been posted on Facebook, had informed me—with a hint of derision—that there was no way to tell whether the acts had been consensual or not, and that because of that I had no case.

  The man had been seriously old-school, and I had understood what lurked beneath his words—that he thought the whole thing was my fault, that I had asked to be raped by two men by wearing tight pants and drinking at a party. And though I knew, deep down I knew, that no one was to blame but those two boys, still, if I had been smarter, less emotional, I might not have placed myself in such a risky situation.

  So the older cop’s words played right into the guilt that I felt, that roiling sickness. I’d stood up to leave the police station feeling as though the world had been pulled out from under me, that I was falling into an abyss—and I’d been seriously considering doing something very, very stupid.

  But before I could leave, a young officer that had looked vaguely familiar had caught me by the arm, pulled me into his own cubicle. I’d flung up my arms to protect myself from just that gentle touch, and when I’d lowered them in shame I’d seen in his eyes that he’d believed me.

  He’d made me drink a can of coke, because he’d thought I looked pale. And then he’d made copies of all the information I’d already given the other officers, and driven me to the hospital to get swabs done, even though the chance of there being any DNA evidence left after so many days was slim.

  He’d promised to do the best he could, and I hadn’t ever heard from him again. Until now, that is, as he stood just inside the gymnasium that I wasn’t supposed to be in.

  “You.” I couldn’t remember his name. My fingers pressed into the wall until I thought that they might go right through.

  “Officer Jeremy Williams.” His eyes met
mine as he tucked his thumbs into his belt loops.

  “Right. I remember.” I swallowed thickly past the sudden knot of anger that formed in my throat.

  Why was I angry? He’d been so nice to me, when no one else had.

  But...

  Slowly, unable to look him in the eye, I skated across the gym, suddenly aware of my dishevelled state—of the sweat that made my shirt cling to my torso, of my messy ponytail, and especially of the fact that my arms were bare, my tattoos visible.

  So many had looked at those tattoos and decided that I’d gotten what I deserved. This man never had, but still, remembering left me with an urgency, a desperate need to cover the art up.

  As if he understood, he stood silently as I grabbed at my sweatshirt with greedy fingers, sliding my arms in, then zipping it up to my chin. Once I was covered, I turned swiftly, and forced myself to look him in the eye.

  “What are you doing here, Officer Williams?” I dug my nails into my palms hard, hard enough to cling to reality.

  There was no way that the officer I’d entrusted with my case had just wandered into the gym where I was practicing by accident—he was here to tell me something. And whatever it was, I was pretty sure that I wasn’t going to like it.

  “I was on my way to your house when I saw you come in here.” He didn’t question whether or not I was supposed to be here, and for that I was grateful. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. And please, call me Jeremy.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him that it was okay, that he hadn’t... but that would have been a lie.

  I was terrified, and it was evidenced by the beads of cold sweat that were currently rolling down my spine.

  “Please.” I barely recognized my own voice, it had gone so hoarse. “Please just tell me.”

  Just tell me it’s all over. I already know that it is.

  Jeremy said something, and though I saw his mouth moving, at first I didn’t comprehend what he’d said. But then... then the words sank in, and I felt my ears start to ring.

  “Adele?” Concern flickered over his features, and he reached out, grabbed my shoulders to steady me—I hadn’t even realized that my knees were wobbling. “Did you hear me?”

  “What?” I’d heard him, all right. But I needed to hear him say it again.

  “Tomorrow we’re pressing charges in your case.” The corners of his eyes, melted chocolate in color, crinkled as he scrutinized my face. “I think you’d better sit down.”

  “I agree.” My legs were beginning to tremble, making me unsteady on my skates, something that I couldn’t remember happening, ever. Jeremy quickly helped me to the wooden bench from which I’d picked up my sweatshirt, and I collapsed onto it, noting the whiteness of my knuckles as I did.

  “I...” Everything was buzzing, a brutal cacophony that hurt my head. Gripping the sides of the bench, I craned my neck, and looked him right in the eyes. “You’re still working on it?”

  His spine stiffened, as though he was insulted, but I found that I didn’t much care. He’d been nice to me, yes, but he’d also left me one hundred percent in the dark over the last two years. Years in which I’d thought that my tormentors had gotten away clear.

  “I told you I would.” He spoke slowly, as though to a skittish animal, and the insult quickly disappeared. “I thought about giving you updates. I did. But...”

  “But what?” I clung to the sudden burst of anger. Anger was easier than grief.

  Cocking his head to one side, he placed his hand on my shoulder, quickly tearing it away. “You didn’t call to ask for updates. You didn’t seem hell bent on justice and when I checked in on you, you always seemed like you were just trying to heal.”

  He placed his hand on my arm again, this time leaving it there, and though maybe I should have, I didn’t feel at all threatened by the touch. “I decided that it was best to leave you in peace until I had something concrete to tell you.”

  “Why now?” Unbidden, cold infiltrated my bones, and I felt my teeth start to chatter. “What’s changed?”

  His eyes scanned my face—such nice eyes, full of emotion. If I hadn’t been so wound up, I might even have found him attractive.

  The hand on my arm tensed, and I felt my stomach drop.

  “One of the boys was arrested on other charges,” he finally said, slow and precise. “And we got a DNA sample both from him and from the scene. When we entered it into CODIS, which is a nationwide database, we got a match with your sample.”

  I blinked as my mind struggled to catch up, to understand what he was saying. And when I did, nausea threatened to pull me under.

  A sample from another scene... that meant at least one of the boys had done it again, had drugged and raped another girl.

  “What’s different this time?” I swallowed past the sudden surge of fury. Why was this other girl so special? Why had she been believed?

  “This time there were witnesses that attested to the fact that the girl was heavily under the influence of drugs and alcohol.” Jeremy’s mouth twisted with empathy as I winced.

  “Great.” My voice was hollow. And oh my God, but was I ever being a bitch. This other poor girl had gone through exactly what I had, but instead of feeling sympathy—though I did, deep down—I was full of rage that she hadn’t had to fight to be believed. Hadn’t been tormented online, though of course I didn’t know that.

  “Adele.” Jeremy’s hand moved from my arm to my fingers, just a light touch of support. I turned to look at him, and felt as though I was dead inside.

  “It’s awful. I know it is. But even late, this is a triumph over the system.” Those eyes of his were so earnest. Even innocent. “Those boys will pay for what they did to you, Adele. I swear it.”

  I didn’t answer. At least, I don’t think I did. I know that I removed my skates, that I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head as a sudden chill wracked my frame.

  I felt as though the walls were closing in on me, as though I couldn’t breathe. Much as I had when I’d first found those damning pictures on Facebook two years ago, like the earth had shattered beneath my feet.

  I didn’t know why I was so overwhelmed, so devastated—this was good news, right? Those boys—God, I didn’t even know their names, had blocked it right out—but they were going to pay for what they’d done to me. For what they’d clearly done to other girls too.

  But it was like the barely formed scab had just been crudely ripped off of a wound that just started to heal. I couldn’t see through the pain.

  I know I stumbled out of the empty gymnasium, and I remember Officer Jeremy following me, calling my name as I ran blindly down the street in my socks. But when I slammed through a door to hide, it wasn’t in my own condo, where I’d be easily found.

  It was in Mal and Dorian’s shower that I turned the hot water on full blast, amid the scents of their shampoo and soap that I scalded my skin, trying to melt the ice that had formed in my veins.

  I felt like I’d never be warm again.

  Chapter Two

  MAL

  I’d thought I would see Adele before I headed for my night class. I’d hung around her condo all afternoon for just that reason—we needed to have one hell of a talk. I was still furious with her for putting herself in the way of potential harm, but I had to admit to myself that I hadn’t handled it the best way. Like, at all.

  She wasn’t answering my texts either. I would have been starting to get freaked out, but she had that little read feature on her phone, and I could see that she was reading them.

  She was clearly just as angry with me as I’d been with her, I thought wryly. One thing I’d learned about Adele was that on those rare occasions when her temper did explode, she needed time to cool off.

  Dorian, however... he was a different story, and I was getting worried about him. I hadn’t talked to him since I’d called to tell him about Adele, and that wasn’t unusual. What was strange was that his phone was completely turned off. Dude never turned his phone off�
�I was pretty sure he didn’t even know how. It was as much a part of him as his cock.

  Something about that made me uneasy, just a little bit. When we’d spoken about Adele, I’d heard the frustration in his voice, which told me how furious he was that this had gone down while he was away and couldn’t do anything about it.

  In fact, I kinda thought he’d overreacted. It wasn’t like Adele was alone, after all—she had me. Though that thought brought a fresh wave of guilt.

  If she knew that she had me, I was guessing that she wasn’t too secure in it at the moment, given that she was clearly avoiding home. That made me feel like a first class heel.

  After class. I’d track her down after class and apologize.

  “Hey, stranger.” The familiar scent of vanilla and musk hit me moments before Emma swung into the seat next to me. I couldn’t help the appreciation I felt when I turned toward her and saw the sexy over the knee boots that she’d paired with skin tight jeans and an equally tight sweater. Classy but sexy, and it really worked.

  Emma’s lips curled up into a smile when she caught me looking. The satisfied hum from her throat told me that she was pleased with my reaction. I knew it shouldn’t have bothered me—after all, clearly I found her attractive, or we would never have been together—but rather than brushing it off, I wallowed in the guilt.

  Adele, Dorian and I were way off kilter, our little tripod askew like a Ferris wheel that had tipped over. Surely that was the only reason that I found that vanilla smell so sexy, where I’d once thought it cloying.

  Between Adele’s lack of response to my texts, the fact that my texts to Dorian weren’t getting through, and the unease I felt over Emma’s no so subtle little presses of her thigh against my own under the long desk, I was on edge throughout the entire three hour class.

  I hated it when things weren’t balanced. Blame it on being a Libra, blame it on whatever—knowing that this was just how I was didn’t help anything. What would help was being able to sit down and talk with my girlfriend and... Dorian.