Come to Me Recklessly

by A. L. Jackson

  A flood of insecurities came pouring in, and I shook my head. “No.”

  “Yes.” He took another step forward, backing me into the wall. “You belong here. With me. Don’t think for a second you’ll ever find anyone better, because you won’t. No one could care about you the way I do. No one will love you like me. Definitely not someone like Christopher Moore.”

  Confusion billowed through me, and I was shaking, unwilling to accept his words, but unable to erase them all the same. They blistered beneath my skin, a sickness that ambushed my heart and mind. I forced them aside.

  “No,” I said again, but it was an anguished whisper. And I hated Ben, hated his words, hated his voice. I didn’t want to hear. I just wanted to escape.

  The ring on my finger felt like it weighed a million pounds. So incredibly wrong. I was a rattled mess when I grappled for it, fumbling as I tried to work it over my knuckle. The gold band was too tight. A strangling noose I had to rid myself of before it snuffed out my last bit of hope.

  I refused to honor Ben with the truthful explanation I had planned to give, couldn’t even look at him as I shoved the ring I had clenched in my hand against his chest. “I don’t want this,” I said again. The last word cracked.

  He squeezed my hand in a crushing grip, the diamond cutting painfully into my palm. “Doesn’t matter if you take that ring off, Samantha, you know you belong to me. Pull yourself together and get over this childishness. You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

  My breath left me on an exhale filled with all my disbelief.

  Arrogant prick.

  I jerked my hand from his grasp and opened it out between us. The ring dropped to the floor. “That’s where you’re wrong. I never belonged to you.”

  I held my tears until I made it to my car. I didn’t mean to cry, didn’t want to, but I couldn’t hold them back. I drove to Christopher’s house, clutching the steering wheel the entire time, trying to see through all the bleary anger and hurt Ben had spewed my way. A flicker of that old, nagging distrust was trying to reassert itself, the one that was born the night I’d found Christopher with Jasmine. I didn’t want those fears to rule me, but they wouldn’t be silenced quite so easily.

  I just needed to see Christopher and everything would be okay.

  I skidded to a stop at the curb, yanked at my keys in the same second I threw it in park. I ran up the sidewalk. I just needed to see him. Feel him. Be reassured that all of that was in the past.

  Because I already knew. I already had the burden of carrying the most vile of memories. Christopher fucking the one girl whose life’s goal had been making mine a living hell. Closing my eyes to see the image that had been forever ingrained in my mind was torture. But I’d forgiven him. Accepted the past for what it was, anticipated the future for all I expected it to hold.

  Believed in Christopher for who he was today.

  Impatience had me hammering on his front door, and it flew open with all the intensity I’d pounded into it. Relief gushed from me when I saw him standing there, and it only made the tears pour faster down my face.

  That was all quickly replaced by Christopher’s panic. “Samantha… baby… what’s wrong?” He grabbed me by the outside of my shoulders, dragging me in the door. He kicked it shut, his hands running all over me as if he were searching to find out if I was hurt. “What did he do… what the fuck did that asshole do? I swear to God, I will kill him, Samantha. What did he do?”

  “He… he was at my mom’s. H-h-he had a ring.” I could barely speak, the words tumbling out in a mess of embarrassment and shame. “He didn’t even ask… he didn’t even ask. Everyone was there, Christopher.”

  “What?” Christopher’s hold tightened. “He didn’t even ask you what?”

  “To marry him. In front of everyone he got on his knee and put it on my finger.”

  His attention flashed to my finger, barren of the evidence of Ben’s coercion. Frantic, Christopher pushed me up against the wall, half-crazed, half-demanding. “I won’t let him have you, Samantha. He can’t have you. You’re mine. You’ve always been.”

  By the waist, he lifted me, pinning me to the wall with the hard planes of his body. I could do nothing but wrap my legs around his hips. He rocked against me, the friction of his jeans igniting that fire, the threat of Ben fueling those flames. He buried his face in my neck as if he didn’t want to see, his bite aggressive as he turned to nip at my jaw, at my chin, moving to my lips. “Told you I wouldn’t let you go. Not ever again.”

  His frenzied voice ached with regret.

  “Never,” I told him, grinding myself on his erection that was pressed tight between my thighs. I felt desperate to erase the distance Ben had tried to wedge between us.

  Christopher seemed even more fractured over it, unable to fathom the idea of what Ben had tried to force on me.

  “I just got you back and he’s trying to take you away.”

  “I’m here… I’m here.”

  “Here,” he said as if a demand, tearing at my clothes, overwrought as he rushed to palm every inch of exposed skin. My shoulders were pressed to the wall, my chest heaving with harsh breaths. He pushed up my shirt and dragged off the cups of my bra. My breasts felt heavy and full as he looked on them with a stuttered groan. He splayed his hands across my back, dragging me forward, and his hot mouth was there, drawing my nipple into its warmth, sucking hard before he turned to the other.

  I bucked, my hands fists in his hair.

  He wrapped an arm low around my waist, his body leaving mine for a fraction of a second, and without setting me down, he dragged my shorts and panties from my legs. Fumbling, he pushed his jeans and underwear down around his thighs.

  Without warning, he thrust into me.

  I cried out from the perfect invasion.

  No condom.

  No heed.

  Christopher took me completely.

  Recklessly.

  I clutched his shoulders while he drove into me, every pitch and roll of his hips possessive and demanding. My back slammed into the wall with every relentless, earth-shattering drag of his body.

  And I knew he was fucking me like he’d promised all those months ago. Marking me. Ensuring I would never forget.

  Emotions strangled me, my love endless and overflowing. Without question. At the same time, some piece of Christopher’s love seemed just out of my reach, doubt Ben had spurred infiltrating the space that had seemed so solid when I walked out the door this morning.

  Jumbled words left me as Christopher pounded harder and faster. Declarations of love and need and an inkling of the fear that Ben’s words held an ounce of truth that had chased me back here to his doorstep.

  My fingers dug deeper into the muscles that bowed and flexed on his shoulders as he devoured me. Taking me whole.

  I refused to let go.

  Christopher gripped my hips, and his hands slipped around to my bottom. He spread me wide, burying himself so deep I was blinded. No longer could I discern what was light or dark. What was inside or out. What was right or wrong.

  Because he was everywhere.

  I was fractured by the orgasm that tore through me, a cutting bliss that sliced open every last insecurity that had been bred in me, every doubt and uncertainty I’d ever harbored ripping free.

  Christopher jerked and cried out, his body going rigid as he pulsed inside me. Every barrier down. Every wall destroyed.

  He gasped for air, clutching my sides. He pressed his mouth against mine, the words ragged. “I love you. I love you so fucking much.” His forehead dropped to mine. “So fucking much.” The last sounded like an apology.

  And I was stripped bare, overwhelmed and exposed in all my vulnerability. It all overflowed, the emotion that had sent tears streaking down my face gathering as a knot in the center of my chest. A sob raked up my throat.

  “Did you want her more than me?” It killed me to ask, but I had to know. “All the time you were with me, did you want her?”

  Chri
stopher stilled and pulled his head back an inch. Confusion clouded his expression. “Who?”

  “Jasmine.” God, it hurt just to say her name. And I knew how much more it was going to hurt to hear him say it. But we had to get it out in the open. Confront that past, or, just like I’d told him that morning, I could never fully move on.

  Her name seemed to jar him, striking him like a physical blow. He jerked back, his hands moving to the outsides of my thighs. “No. Never,” he swore. “Damn it, Samantha, I’d never touch that bitch. Not ever.”

  But his voice cracked, and the admission of deceit passed so vividly across his face. Those green eyes flashed with some kind of morbid dishonesty, something terrible hidden there that he didn’t want me to see.

  My eyes slammed closed to shield myself from it, and the pain inside became physical, so heavy I was sure it would crush me. I struggled to wring myself out of his powerful hold.

  He held on tighter. “Samantha… baby, look at me.”

  Violently, I shook my head, refusing his call. With another smothered sob, I pushed against his chest, and he finally yielded, allowing me to slide down his body and onto my feet. But they were weak, just as weak as my knees and my heart, and I swayed with a rush of dizziness. I bent over at the middle, trying to hold the pieces together before I crumbled at his feet.

  “Samantha,” he whispered, his voice urgent and raw.

  Nausea swirled through my stomach, and I bent down to gather my shorts and underwear from the ground. Humiliation burned up my insides, lashes of unbearable shame that licked at my skin when I fumbled and tried to pull them up my wobbly legs.

  God, I must look pathetic.

  I kept my face downturned, unable to look at the man I’d chosen to trust.

  Foolish, foolish girl.

  I should have known. I should have known.

  When I heard him zipping up his pants, I winced, mortified by the fact that I’d just let him come undone inside me when I really didn’t know him at all.

  I gulped over the reality.

  Because I did.

  All along, I’d known him. When I’d first seen Aly, every self-preserving bone in my body had screamed at me to run. To stay away. To protect myself from the one who had the power to destroy me.

  The one who had gladly watched me burn to ashes.

  That malicious boy who’d just grown into an evil man.

  “Fuck, Samantha, would you look at me?”

  Finally I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze that jumped all over my face, but somehow didn’t want to meet my eye. I choked over the disbelieving laughter that bubbled up. The sound was wet with regret and shame and all the hurt he continued to pile on me.

  “What do you want me to see, Christopher? Do you want me to see the lies written all over your face? Or is it that you really just want to see the pain written on mine?”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Of course I don’t want to see you in pain.”

  “You know, Ben tried to stop me from going in the room that night. After I heard about what happened to Jared… I…” I couldn’t hold any of this in any longer, even knowing it made me more vulnerable than I already was to tell him everything. “I was heartbroken for you, Christopher, heartbroken for Jared, and I thought I understood what happened the night that you came to my window. I went looking for you. I had some stupid fantasy that we’d run away together.”

  Christopher took a step back, his face warping with confusion.

  That old anguish shook my head. “I was stupid enough to think you needed me. I believed you were just desperate and never intended on hurting me. But you had every intention of it, didn’t you? You just stared right at me while you fucked that slut who hated me. Did you like it? Seeing me humiliated and broken? Do you like it now?”

  All the color drained from his face. It only accentuated the lies he’d tried to hide. I watched the bob of his throat as he swallowed down my words, and his hands went to his hair. “No, Samantha… never… I never meant to hurt you. That was… I was out of my mind. You broke up with me. That night I gave up and gave in.”

  He ran his palm over his forehead, his attention toward the floor. “Shit.” He looked back at me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even know you were there, and I swear I never did it to hurt you. I couldn’t see straight… couldn’t feel anything but the misery that was eating me alive. Fuck, baby, I didn’t know you were there. Please… you can’t believe I would do that to you.”

  Never.

  There was that word again.

  Never.

  The lie had slipped from him so easily.

  I’d never touch that bitch. Not ever.

  But he lied.

  He lied.

  Because he had.

  He took a pleading step forward, dipping his head down to try to catch my face. “I’ve never felt worse than after that night. I never touched Jasmine before or after that night. Never. And I most definitely didn’t know you were there. I would never do that to you. I thought I’d lost you.”

  Never. Never. Never.

  The bile that had been lodged in my throat all day throbbed.

  “Liar.” The word oozed from my mouth. “Ben told me everything that night… when he had to pick me up and carry me out of that party. All those months I was missing you, holding on to the belief that we would find some way to work it out, all that time I prayed for a way for us to be together, you were with her. Tonight he told me about the rest of them, too. I know everything.”

  My own disappointment and sorrow wrapped around the words. “And here I was, naive enough to forget all of it if you really loved me now. Because I never stopped loving you, Christopher. Even after knowing you cheated on me all those months, I never stopped loving you.”

  Never.

  There it was again.

  But this time it was my truth.

  I began to back away, trying to put space between me and what I wanted most, while Christopher seemed rooted to the floor, his expression shifting through a million dark shadows.

  At the door, I stopped. “Laugh all you want, because you win. You finally broke me.”

  Just a pawn in his sick, twisted game.

  I turned the knob. The sound of metal scraping pinged around the room.

  “Motherfucker.” Christopher was suddenly there, pulling at my arm. “He lied. He fucking lied, Samantha. He always wanted you. I knew it. I fucking knew it.”

  I yanked my arm away. “Don’t touch me. You don’t get to do that anymore. Not ever again. You lied to me… looked me in the eyes just now and swore you had never touched Jasmine. Not ever. How quickly your story changed when you knew you were caught. I’m done with it. I’m done with you.”

  “No… fuck, Samantha… would you just listen? You said we needed to talk. Talk to me.”

  “How can I talk to you when I can’t believe a single word you say? I asked one thing of you, Christopher. One thing. I just wanted you to be honest with me. I was willing to forgive you for everything else.”

  I turned and flew out the door.

  He was right behind me, fingers trying to touch, words trying to penetrate. I ran faster, pushing farther.

  Desperate for space. Desperate for breath.

  “There weren’t any more. I swear to you. And I swear it was just once. I lied. Yes, I lied. I’m an idiot, Samantha, but I couldn’t bear for you to know what I’d done. I’ve hated myself for doing it for so long. I’m so sorry. I was just trying to protect you.”

  I was sick of men trying to protect me.

  I clicked the locks to my car, a rash, wild need urging me to get away.

  “Samantha, baby, don’t do this. Listen to me. Please, give me a chance.”

  I flung the driver’s door open, rushing to get inside. “I already gave you a chance.”

  I slammed the door shut, fingers fumbling to lock it. Christopher pounded a flat palm against the window, yelling my name. My hands shook as I tried to get the key in the ignition. I gasped
out in relief when I finally found the slot. I turned the engine over, threw it in gear.

  And I left Christopher screaming for me in the middle of the street.

  I refused to look in the rearview mirror, not that I could see through my tears anyway.

  Refused to hear, even though I wanted to listen.

  Refused to stop, because I knew the only choice I had was to go.

  Loud sobs broke free, and I wept as I was struck with this consuming grief. Frantic, I tried to clear my vision with the back of my hand.

  Sad thing? I had nowhere to go.

  Nowhere I belonged.

  Not when every piece of me belonged to him.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Samantha

  May, Seven Years Earlier

  I paced the kitchen. My hands were shaking. Shaking. I gripped a handful of hair, trying to shut down the quivers of anxiety that nipped at my already frayed nerves while I listened to the phone ringing on the other end. I really didn’t want to call him. But where else could I turn?

  “Hello?”

  Relief sprang from my lungs when he answered, words flying off my tongue with a speed to match my hammering heart. “Oh, thank God, Ben, you answered. It’s Samantha. I need your help.”

  “Whoa, slow down, sweetheart. What’s going on?”

  “Have you seen Christopher? I need to find him.”

  Ben’s disappointment traveled through the phone, or maybe it was annoyance, I couldn’t tell. “You know how I feel about him.”

  “I know… but I need to find him. I don’t know what else to do. I tried his parents’ house, but no one is picking up there.” I lowered my voice to a plea. “It’s really important, Ben. Please.”

  How bad did it suck that I couldn’t give him details? Ben was my friend, but there was no chance I could trust him with this. He would never understand. I just hoped he cared about me enough to help.