by Jenn Marlow
She understood. She understood him. Finally. “You’re not as bad as you think you are,” she said with finality before walking away to meet Denny.
No matter what was happening between Roland and her, she couldn’t miss her meeting with her brother. No matter how upset she was, she had to—and she knew she would—find the courage to be all that he needed her to be. At least for that day.
After all, Denny still was—and would always remain her everything—and she would be damned if she missed out on a chance to see his face, to hold him in her arms, to finally have, in front of her, the person that this was all for and to see the difference it was making.
And she did. He stood before her, a bit taller, looking a lot better than he had before he left. When she left Roland and thundered downstairs and out the door, a car had been waiting for her. It took her to the place she needed to go; the park so many memories had formed in—both good and bad.
The day was beautiful, just like the last day that she was there with Denny. The sky held the same crisp, vivacious blue as it had before, and the puffs of white were still littered over it, as if they hadn’t changed at all in months. It was almost like the park stood still in time. It was like the driver had taken her through a time warp, and she could somehow relive the last good day that she had with Denny.
That thought was driven home even further when she peered down the hill from the parking lot and saw the old metal swing. A male silhouette had been present on it, and though in her mind she knew that it could have been anyone, her heart told her it was Denny. And without wasting another moment, she had raced down the hill with extreme momentum, nearly tumbling as she went.
She ran and before she even reached the man, launched her arms so that she could push him. And push him she did. Straight out of the swing. With a crashing thud, the man bounced on the ground below. “What the fuck, Alex!” the boy screamed from the ground, looking up at her.
She laughed—how fitting. He had jumped from the swing on the last day that they were together in bliss, and this time he had seemed to find himself on the ground all over again. “Thought you liked being on the ground!” she yelled before making a dash over to him to help him up.
“Thought you thought I was a fragile piece of glass,” he replied reaching his hand up for her to help him. She smiled, before pulling him into her, noting the weight change. Even though he had been going through chemo again with his trial drug, he was gaining weight.
When he got to his feet, she had realized that he stood taller. And his color was tan and gorgeous. He looked good. He looked healthy. “Wow, you look so good!” she found herself yelling out to him.
He smiled in response. “I know. I feel better…” he trailed. And immediately she knew that she had made the right choice. He was also in brand new clothes; and then she chuckled, that was probably why he was mad that she pushed him into the dirt.
“You said you felt the same!” she screamed, remembering their phone conversation. He shrugged in response and before she knew it, they were laughing and playing. She wished she could say that it was just like old times, but it wasn’t. Denny had never been afforded the luxury to laugh and play often. Not to say that his childhood was bleak necessarily, but it was rare that he had ever had energy to run around the park with his sister. Not only that, though, but energy to run uphill to the parking lot and down the street to do some quick shopping together.
It was like a dream was unfolding and before she knew it, that dream was over. “I know why you left, and I understand—but we could have done this without you leaving,” he said, as they combed one of the nearby local stores for a new pair of sunglasses for Denny. “I mean, we could have handled it without you getting a job really far away.”
The dream was over because Denny had brought Alex right back to reality. He had reminded her that this day wasn’t an everyday occurrence, and that days that happened to be like it would be stripped away for a long time to come. The pain in his eyes reciprocated the pain she felt in her heart, not only for Denny but for the man she was supposed to hate. How was all of this going to end? What was going to happen to them all?
Alex sighed, glad that at least he didn’t know what she was really doing. With Holly as his new caregiver, she wasn’t sure what to expect and though the woman was a wide-trapped idiot at times, Alex knew that the truth would have probably been awkward to spill to a sixteen-year old. “No. I had to do this. We needed this,” she replied, hoping that he would drop it.
Without hesitation, though, the devil arrived by a single phone call. She knew better than to have thought about him because sure enough—the fable stands true—apparently even thinking about him causes him to show up in some form or another. The ring-a-ding of her phone caught her off guard, and normally she would have immediately sent it to voicemail, but she knew better. She knew who had been trying to call her, and it surprised her to see that when she looked at the screen, his name appeared.
She hadn’t even checked when she stole her phone back if he had programmed his name in it. Why would he? She wasn’t supposed to have the phone. But then it hit her, if she wasn’t supposed to have it, would she have? Roland wasn’t stupid. He would have noticed it missing; and obviously he had if he was calling.
Denny walked away angrily, as she eyed her phone. “I haven’t seen you in months and you’re contemplating taking a phone call! You’re unbelievable. You don’t even answer my calls!” he screamed out, as his feet pounded through the store and out into the street.
She turned off her screen and chased after him, realizing the bittersweet-ness of it all. Yes, he was angry, and yes he was running away from her—but damn, he had the energy to do it! That never happened!
“You know, you were wrong,” Denny shot from over his shoulder, as he stood in the middle of the street. She blinked in response. What was he even talking about? And why the fuck was he just standing in the middle of the road? She could see tears begin to fall, and her heart nearly stopped in her chest as her lungs filled with regret. “You were wrong to go. Even if it’s helping me, even if I get better, you were and are wrong.”
“Denny, let’s not do this. I know you miss me but—”
“I don’t want to hear it! I love you. Do you not get that?! Imagine how you would feel if I passed away? Multiply that by infinity knowing that I have cancer and if I go, it’ll be without you by my side.” And with that, he walked away.
“Denny!” she called, but it didn’t matter. He kept going. And then, he was gone.
She stood there, mesmerized and trying to trace back what the fuck even happened. And she knew that—of course—Denny tried to call her while she was away. He thought she got another job. What excuse would she have to never calling or returning his phone calls? What excuse could she give knowing that he had just seen her with her phone, and she had contemplated answering it? The entire situation was a mess. Denny’s cancer was a mess. The contract was a mess. Her not having contact with her sick brother was a mess. Roland was a mess. Her relationship—whatever the fuck it was—with Roland was a mess. And now, her relationship with her brother was a mess, too.
She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to say to anyone about anything. All she could do was walk back to the park and get back into the car that she had arrived in and allow the driver to take her back to Roland’s home; her home.
She closed her eyes the entire way, just as she had on her first day and realized the time went by much faster. Originally, it had seemed like forever getting there, and she had always wondered if Roland had somehow driven in circles to make it seem like she was further from the city than she was; and now, even though it seemed to go much quicker, she still wondered.
The time went by fast this time, not because of the distance, but because of her own dread. She didn’t know how to face Roland. She knew he would be at work when she arrived, but being in his house was likely too much to face, especially after the horrible date she had with her brother. Nay, not horrible
date. It was just a horrible ending to a fantastic date.
She had to hold on to the good memories. Even though he looked great, she couldn’t let her guard down with his cancer. She knew that it was a tricky thing; and that he was never completely out of the woods, especially in the middle of his treatment.
“How dare you say that I’m not as bad as I think I am?” she heard his voice round the corner as soon as she entered through the front door. He shouldn’t have been home. He should have been at work. What the fuck was he doing home?
“Why the fuck are you here?!” she shot, ignoring his question. If he wanted a showdown in the foyer for all of his servants—wherever they might be, and however many there fucking was—to see them, then by God she would give him one!
“I’ve been home all day. Been calling you, too. We need to talk! I said you could see your brother after the talk, not fucking before it ended!” he seemed desperate to appear angry, almost as if he had been rehearsing it all day. “How dare you say I’m not as bad as I think I am?!” he screamed again, still desperate. “I’m worse! Enough with your psychobabble bullshit and trying to make me feel better! I’m fine! I don’t need you!”
“Then, why do I find myself drawn to you more and more? I don’t waste my time on worthless people with no souls. I thought you were that, but I see it in your eyes,” she responded gently, as she approached his sullen body.
“You see nothing,” he said, as he backed away towards the living room, anxious to get away from her. She wasn’t sure how he thought this was going to go, but she assumed that it wasn’t like this. He had been so eager to confront her, full of an angry desperation, but now he looked to be nothing more than a frightened dear.
And as he moved back, his back hit the wall dividing the living room from the stairs. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He couldn’t back up any further, but her pursuit continued until she reached him. His head turned so that he couldn’t look at her; and she knew it was because he didn’t want her to see the fear in his eyes. But she had already seen it. It was too late.
“You see nothing!” he yelled again, still looking away.
“I see you…” she reiterated.
And then his walls crumbled again; and his lips frantically crashed against hers. She desperately and fondly returned the kiss, deepening it, and feeling desperate tears stream down her cheeks. Only, they weren’t her tears. They were his.
As she swirled her tongue against his and pressed her body into him more, she could do nothing more than hope more than anything that his walls would remain in ruins forever. His arms tightened around her, and then she, too, was crying. And as it so happened, she realized, as their tears intertwined, that it wasn’t just Roland’s ruins that lay scattered on the ground, but hers as well.
When his mouth covered hers, it was like everything she knew but didn't want to admit about herself came into view. She could see it; it wasn't hiding anymore. And the way he groaned into her mouth and pulled her closer told her that he liked what he saw as well. He made her feel like he wanted her just the way she was. And that made her happy because she wanted him. Just the way that he was.
Chapter 8
He took her tiny neck in his huge hands and kissed her, his tongue parting her lips, probing deep and firm inside her mouth. He tasted like her favorite snack, sweet and salty. His sweet breath mixed with the saltiness of his tears somehow gave her an erotic sense of pleasure that she couldn’t quite explain. In fact, she couldn’t remember having ever wanted anyone with such immediacy.
Alex clutched his torso against her and ran her hands down the length of his back. She felt an overwhelming sense of an unknown emotion. It ached with every touch, with every brush of their lips, but it wasn’t unwelcome, which was strange to admit, as well as to fathom. It was uncomfortable, sure, but it was also pleasant. She could feel. She wondered if this was what it meant to be in love or heading in that direction. She never believed in love before, but something was igniting like a spark with every heated kiss, and it was far beyond the confines of lust. Lust couldn’t touch whatever this was.
His muscles rippled beneath her hands, as she continued to explore his body. They were warm to the touch and solid as a rock. She almost couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized how incredibly toned he was before. She had always noticed he was lean and well-maintained, but this was something else. Right now, she almost seemed to see him in the same respect as a Greek god. It was incredible. It was… awe inspiring.
Roland slid his soft, wet tongue roughly against hers and suddenly anticipation seemed to flutter and boil within her belly. She moaned and pressed her tongue back on his and took his lower lip into her mouth, suckling with a hunger she hadn’t quite known before. It was desperate, but not in a lustful sense. There was something more, something deeper. She felt tears begin to form again, as she sucked on his tender flesh, and she bit down, eliciting a moan from him in return.
He grunted into her mouth, his lip tingling with a fiery heat in the areas her teeth had clenched onto. Her vigor excited him. Other women were soft in their kisses, which was all well and good, but there was a shocking edge to Alex that seemed to arouse him intensely. But more shocking than that was the emotion that seemed to form every time his eyes bestowed her beautiful face. He couldn’t understand, or even believe that it was happening.
It was far beyond his usual nature. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy or gut-wrenchingly horrified.
He could feel.
Was it good? Was it bad?
He wasn’t lifeless, which was good, he supposed. But he also was vulnerable, and harboring emotions for a woman he needn’t have any business harboring feelings for. Even taking away the fact that she was his slave, Alex was still rude and unsophisticated—not to mention, she wasn’t his wife.
She felt something strange when his hands began to explore her. As his fingers glided over her skin, the touch tingled so deeply that it seemed to run into her bloodstream. She felt it run throughout her entire body, especially through her heart. Her emotions were heightened, and it was then that she knew that her body was working in overdrive.
They pulled away from each other, breathless with a glint of wonderment present in each of their eyes. They looked at one another, speechless. He looked to her, and she to him. And when she looked straight into those gorgeous now-brown eyes of his, she began to throb with sexual desire. She yearned for his touch.
The intensity of his gaze sent warm pulses of pleasure through her like a drug she was becoming addicted to. She loved how differently his eyes looked without the mask of a shadowy darkness hazed over them. She wasn’t sure if it was even a reality that they changed or if he was just a fucking chameleon.
But regardless of it all, his once jet-colored eyes had lightened it seemed, and she wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but they almost seemed brown now rather than the black she swore they were in the beginning. What if they had always been brown? What if she had only seen black? What if they changed only with her perception of him? It was all so much to take in. Him, his crazy color-shifting eyes, his demeanor towards her, her demeanor towards him, her painstaking leap of emotions for him, it was all just so much—too much, almost.
The feeling in her gut was both that of a warning nature, throwing a word of caution at her to not get too close, as well as a combined stereotypical warm and fuzzy feeling she had always heard about, but never actually experienced herself. She knew she was making sounds of astonishment, and she knew he noticed that he was on display. It was all so awkward, so confusing and the sensation was so intense that it was almost painful, but she couldn't bear to look away. That would have been even more painful.
And in that moment of pain and overwhelming neediness, they flew—in unison—into one another, entrapping one another with their lips and collapsing into the wall clear on the other side of the foyer. She felt the cool plaster of the wall tingle against her back as they crashed into it.
It was strange, rea
lly. They had crashed against the wall with force, but it wasn’t the same force she was used to. It wasn’t the lustful desperation she had experienced with him previously. It was desperate, but it was a different kind of desperate. It was needier; it was even more urgent; and, by God, it was so overwhelming that she didn’t really know how to describe it.
They pulled away once again, and he began to place butterfly kisses on her neck and up her cheek. The coolness of the wall had caused a chill to roll down her spine, but with his breath hot against her cheek, he warmed her—both physically and emotionally. He began to tease her a bit by moving his lips so that they were hovering just over her forehead. It drove her to the brink of insanity—him pretending he was going to kiss her again and pressing his warm, sultry mouth against her flesh once more. She shuddered at the thought, not only hoping, but needing to be kissed again. She thought that it was possible that she might just explode when he finally closed in. Just a little further.
His large hands wrapped around her waist, molding into her flesh, melting into her, almost becoming one with her body as he was—in that moment—with her soul. She moaned, her body suddenly putty in his arms. She oozed with sensuality and desire, so much in fact that she, too, began placing kisses over his flesh.
He could feel her warm breath move along his strong jawline and down to his throat. His pulse pounded with emotion beneath her parted lips, and he knew that he had lost control somewhere along the way. He knew that he hadn’t been able to succeed in pushing her away like he hoped. But before he got too wrapped up into his own mind’s concerns, she moaned into him and brought him back to reality. Fuck. It all felt so good.
Alex kissed his neck, pulled a little bit of the flesh there into her mouth, and bit down. Hard. He grunted in pain, as well as pleasure, but there was something different in it all that he couldn’t quite explain. It was something unique and extra-exciting; it wasn’t the usual pleasurable pain. It was something else. Something indescribable. Shocks of adrenaline shot across his chest and out through his fingertips, causing him to push her harder into the wall, passion spiking throughout his body until he could no longer control himself. He needed her.