“And these fuckers won’t give me shit for them,” I screamed into the emptiness. Rehab during the day was tolerable, but at night, as the darkness crept across the floor so did my memories until they found me huddled in the corner of my room. Anxiety and depression warred with my exhaustion as everything I snorted to forget came back ten-fold.
It was her thirteenth birthday and my mom made Charlie her favorite dessert, lemon meringue pie. She was so happy as she opened her two presents from my family. A new dress my mom picked out for her and a heart necklace I bought her.
“Thank you so much Mr. and Mrs. Matthews for everything. I had a great time.” Charlie said as she was leaving.
I followed her out the front door onto the porch like I always did. I reached out to touch her. Something I found myself doing more and more since the start of eighth grade. “You can stay longer if you want. There’s no rush.” She shook her head in response.
“My mom promised that she would be home tonight for my birthday. She got a new job and everything.” Her voice trailed off as if that explained everything, but her big green eyes stayed on me, begging me for something I did not quite understand.
“Ok Charlie,” I finally said as I took a step closer to her. “Come back over if you need to,” I murmured, “or if you want to. The window is unlocked.”
“Thanks Cage . . . for everything. I love you.” My gut clenched like it always did when she said it and I didn’t. But I never got tired of hearing it.
“Yeah, yeah.” I laughed, trying to be cool, as I turned back into the house. My body craving hers with every extra second I spent with her alone.
I stayed up well after my parents waiting for her to come through the window. Promising God that when she did I would say those three words back to her. Then at midnight and still no Charlie I went to sleep, feeling both sad and happy that she was not on the top bunk that my parents bought me for my eleventh birthday. My last thought before I fell asleep was that they had to know it was for Charlie. Mom never locked the window when she cleaned my room.
I woke to the sound of a sob as Charlie was crawling into bed with me.
“Charlie, what’s wrong?” She never got in with me.
“Nothing, just go back to sleep.” Her voice cracked bringing me fully awake. She was trembling and her left hand was grasping the front of her shirt together so tight her knuckles were white.
“Damn it Charlie, just tell me.” I sat up and reached for the light when she pulled me back.
“Please don’t. I don’t want anyone to know where I go,” she spoke so softly. Too softly. “Please leave the light off. He’ll know.”
“Who will know?” I did not understand what was going on, but I felt like I had to take on the world to keep her safe. “Charlie, what is going on?” My voice got lower as rage started to set in. This was not normal even for her. Something was seriously wrong, and I was going to get an answer this time.
“My mom’s new boyfriend,” she finally responded. “Cage, please, just . . . just hold me please.” I could hear the tears in her voice, stripping me of my rage and replacing it with a heat that ran fast and furious through my body.
“Ok Charlie, ok.” The lump in my throat was the same size as the one in my pants as I turned towards her. She lifted her head and shoulders so I could slide my arm under her and my other arm over her.
My grandmother’s underwear. Needles. Baseball. Coach naked. Getting a shot. Throwing up. Anything but this beautiful girl in my arms.
Then a whimper filled the silence and any need I had vanished as I pulled her tighter to me as she quietly sobbed. “Please Charlie, tell me what’s wrong,” I begged when the silence became unbearable. “I hate this. Your crying is killing me.” I placed a kiss into her hair.
“I can’t. You won’t love me when I tell you.” She buried herself deeper into me.
“Charlie, nothing could stop me from loving you.”
“I wish that were true,” whispered Charlie into the dark, as she started to turn away from me.
“I love you Charlie.” My voice a plea to get her to tell me what was so wrong.
“You shouldn’t,” she cried.
“AAAAHHHH! Make it stop. Please someone. Anyone. Please.” The pain, both physically and mentally, were becoming too much.
A line, that was all I fucking needed. Just one . . . and . . . and . . . I knew I could get through the night. I would get the break I so craved.
Just one.
My rocking intensified as the thought of what one line would feel like. The numbness, the relief, the rush as my blood raced the energy . . . the spark I craved throughout my body. My mind drifted to how easy it would be to call my dealer once I left.
Left.
Yes. I voluntarily checked in and I could just as easily check out. Yes!
Out.
That was where I needed to be. Out of here. Out of this hell of memories and regrets that haunted me. Coke was the key to forgetting. Of being so fucking wired and hyper and happy.
Happy.
That was all I wanted to be. Not fucking rocking back and forth like an addict waiting for his next fix. That wasn’t me. That wasn’t what I signed up for. I just wanted Charlie back.
Charlie.
Just one.
Charlie.
Just one.
“Just one,” Charlie giggled, “I promise. Just one more time. Please,” she begged, standing up on her tippy toes to touch her lips to mine. How could I refuse?
“Fine, one more time,” I sighed, drawing out my dramatic response to her request to ride the damn Ferris wheel for the third time. Charlie danced her little, happy dance; wiggling that fine ass. “But only because it’s your birthday.”
“Well aren't you the gentleman. Perfume, flowers, and now another ride on the Ferris wheel,” Charlie said in the worst Southern-belle accent I had ever heard.
I chuckled then said, “Oh, I plan on giving you another ride as soon as we get out of here.”
“I’m ready,” she teased back as she grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the ride. Once on I copped a feel and stuck my tongue anywhere she would let me every time we got high enough for no one to see. A moan here and a groan there had me hard as a rock by the time the carnie yelled “last time ‘round.”
“Babe, we gotta stop,” I said as she reached for me with eyes so full of love and lust I almost came in my pants. “I need to calm down before this ride ends.” I pointed to my junk that was trying to poke through my pants to get to her.
“Just one,” Charlie pleaded as she scooted closer. “Please baby,” she begged. There was no point in saying anything but yes, so I gave a quick nod as she pushed herself completely against me teasing me as she ran her tongue over my bottom lip.
“I love you,” whispered Charlie, giving me a wet, but chaste kiss.
“Ditto.” My tagline since we entered high school a year ago. She buried her face in my neck as she murmured, “I can’t believe I am leaving tomorrow for six weeks. I am going to miss you . . . this so much.”
“Nothing to miss babe. I’m going to be here when you get back from being a big, bad camp counselor.” I felt Charlie nod. We rode the rest of the ride in silence, both lost in our thoughts.
By the time we got to the bottom I was beside myself with an energy I never felt before. A need so deep for her that it both scared and invigorated me at the same time. As we exited the ride, I practically dragged a giggling Charlie behind me as we made our way to my beat-up old pick-up. I needed to be as far from the lights of the carnival as possible so I could have my way with her. A few hollered greetings and questions met our abrupt departure, but I did not care. Nothing was going to stop me from being where I needed to be, buried so deep in my girl that I could not tell where I started and she began.
If I had only known that would be our last night together I never would have stopped driving.
“Please,” I shrieked. “Make it stop. I am begging you. PLEASE.” Tears ran do
wn my face as I pounded my fist against the wall, then the floor. Giant, ugly sobs filled the space as I took to ripping at my clothes, my chest, my hair as her face, her smell, her body assaulted me. A door opened, followed by shuffling all around me but I was too far gone, too far lost to memories to know what was happening, to care what they did.
A slight pinch and then pressure as fire erupted in my arm and warmth slowly crept through my body. I opened my eyes to blurry versions of several people huddled around me, as I was lifted and placed on a bed.
“When did he get so skinny?”
“I didn’t realize it was this bad.”
“How did this happen?”
All the voices sounded familiar, but nothing was ringing a bell until . . .
“How can I help?” It was Charlie. I was sure of it. I tried to talk, to make her realize I was doing this for her, but my tongue was too thick in my mouth. Drool was the only thing that ran from my mouth; the words stuck in my head like always. My heart raced as blackness began to creep across my vision. No! I needed to stay awake to explain.
More murmurings and shifting of people as I tried to find which one was her. Then a hint of Happy played with my nose; turning towards it I took a deep breath at the same time as a warm, soft-as-silk hand came on my cheek.
“Charlie,” I tried to say it, but it came out more like a grunt.
“Shhhh, it’s ok.” In that moment I swore if an angel had a voice it would sound just like that. “I got you.” And I finally let go.
CHAPTER THREE
Cage
Flo Rida’s GDFR (Going Down for Real) blasted from the speakers as I stood at the top of the landing, trying to find my Super League compatriots. Why the fuck did I agree to come to this lame ass Halloween party? I knew it was a bad idea the minute my bandmates brought it up. Now I was stuck with a house of drugs, drinking, and sex wearing a fucking Batman costume, cowl, black cape and all.
I. Am. Batman! Christian Bale ain’t got nothing on me.
How had Locke talked me . . . hell the whole band into these stupid ass costumes? He was Flash, Lincoln was Superman, and Shutter was the Green Lantern. At least as the Dark Knight I could hide behind the mask and not deal with everyone knowing who I was. We decided as a group to lay low after I checked out of rehab six months ago and this party was our way of announcing that we were back. It was also to prove to everyone, including my manager, Hogan Reynolds, that I could deal with people in my face and was ready to get back on the road. Our American tour started in a couple of days.
I scanned the living room, not seeing any of them. Linc’s place was packed with people of all shapes and sizes, wearing some crazy costumes. I took it all in as I descended the steps. I outright laughed watching Mickey Mouse try to hit on Malibu Barbie. At the base of the steps I realized just how many people were here. They were fucking everywhere even though it was a Sunday. No one worked in this fucking town. I laughed at the ridiculousness of my life. Miami was supposed to be different than LA, but the only thing that changed was the humidity level. Everyone here was practically a celebrity, in one form or another, and I was already ready to call it a night.
And then . . .
POW.
BAM.
BOOM.
Holy smokin’ body, Batman! It seemed like a Batman themed kind-of night. The Catwoman before me sported the sexiest body I had ever seen wrapped tight in a one-piece black body suit and thigh-high black leather boots. Damn! Just. DAMN.
Her hips moved with the beat of the music, as I agreed with Flo Rida. “It’s going down for real.” The very sight made me think of how she would move when she was riding my cock. “Lift it, drop it, shake it, pop it.” Hell yeah!
My eyes moved further up her body to her back, and even though it was leather-clad I could tell it was just right. I bet she had the two lower back dimples. Did her spine hide or did every rib and contour break the surface of her creamy, smooth skin? Were her shoulder blades rounded or sharp? Did she arch back when she was cuming or did it curve in as pleasure pulsed from her core? I groaned as I adjusted myself in my over-the-top outfit.
I needed a fucking drink. Drugs were definitely off limits, but a man had to have a vise. And since all women, except one, were off the menu, I needed something to ease this ache. Making my way through the crowd, I spotted Linc heading in my direction. I did a quick about face and slipped through the back door onto the balcony. I did not need a babysitter.
The warmth of the night greeted me as I walked over to the bar.
“Hey man. I heard you were a part of the Super League that was throwing this party and I wanted to say thanks.” A voice from behind me said. I turned to find none other than Nate Maxwell standing in front of me.
“Nate Maxwell,” I said in greeting. He was still a douche bag as he came to a Halloween party wearing his own professional football jersey. “How ya been?” We shook hands, but with the mask Nate had no idea who I was.
“Been doing great actually,” as he took a swig of his beer, staring at me to try and figure out who I was. “Do we know each other?” He leaned against the railing, eyeing me up.
“Cage Matthews.”
“No fucking way,” he said as recognition dawned. “Hey bro. How are you? Do you live in Miami?” A genuine smile graced his face, which I found surprising as we hated each other in high school.
“Yeah. Me and the guys decided to make it our home base. We aren’t fans of the LA scene anymore.”
“That’s right. Rehab. I remember hearing about that. Well that’s fucking cool bro. I looooove your latest album,” he said as he scanned the crowd. It was obvious that he was looking for someone. “The Green Eyed Monster is my favorite track. I get how jealousy and love lost can turn into a wicked beast. I went through some of the same shit.”
“Thanks man.” He had no clue. Hell no one did except my band mates. That song had nothing to do with people being jealous of the band or our fame, and everything to do about the green-eyed beauty of my dreams turning into the nightmare of my life. “I saw you signed with the Dolphins. I guess you’re making Miami your home now too, huh?”
“Definitely during season,” he replied as a large grin spread across his face, his eyes on the crowd. “The rest depends on if this beauty will ever decide she wants me the rest of the year.” As if Moses stood before the Red Sea, the crowd parted as Catwoman walked right into the arms of fucking Nate Maxwell.
“There is my gorgeous girl.” He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. The lightest whiff of Happy by Clinique teased my nose. I took a deep breath trying to keep it, wondering where it came from. Nate and his pussy cat no longer held my interest as I looked around trying to find the source of my favorite perfume. I needed to confirm that the scent did not belong to Charlie. I did it every fucking time and it was never ever her . . . at least not yet.
“I would like to introduce you to Caged In’s front man . . .” Her eyes, covered in an eerie, yellow contact, widened only a fraction of a second before they went blank and she shook her head. Her face was completely covered by the mask she wore.
What? This fucking chick was blowing me off. Never in my life had that happened. Who the hell did she think she was? I was the fucking front man of the biggest band and . . . She. Did. Not. Want. To. Meet. Me?
Nate pulled Catwoman closer to his body as he tried to recover from the awkwardness that settled over the three of us. “Well then I guess we’ll be moving on . . .” His voice trailed off as he gave me a head nod and turned to leave, pulling her with him. Her body so tense she was like a stone version of herself. She continued to stare at me.
“You guys know each other?” he asked, looking from me to her. Confusion, then recognition dawned in his muddy brown eyes. “That’s right . . .” Before he could finish Catwoman grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd.
What the hell? Did I know her? Now she was running away. Well nothing turned me on faster than the view of her back, even if it was w
alking away.
Game on pussy . . . cat.
Charlie
Holy shit. I could not believe that Cage Fucking Matthews was standing in front of me talking with Nate. His navy blue eyes were as clear as I had ever seen them, not blood shot and heavy with drugs like the last time I saw him. I could only imagine his dirty blonde hair disheveled and messy to the point of sexy under his cape crusader costume. I was shocked senseless as Nate tried to introduce us. Shaking my head no, Cage’s surprise was evident in his widening eyes and grunt of disapproval.
Oh well! I was screwed if Cage knew it was me. Caged in was what I would be if I heard my name on his lips. Then it finally dawned on Nate that maybe Cage and I knew each other since we went to the same high school. Knew each other? That was the fucking understatement of the year. We lived, hell breathed, each other since he moved in next door to me when I was ten years old. The only person I ever said I love you to. The only person who knew me, ugly home life and all.
And what did he do?
He left! He left like I meant nothing to him. No note, no good-bye, no contact since my sixteenth birthday. Well he was never getting that chance again. I grabbed Nate’s hand and led him through the crowd.
I needed to get Nate and me out of there as fast as possible. I needed space. I needed to pretend I just did not run into Cage. I needed to . . . I needed to . . . run away. So why was my heart breaking all over again? How could he still affect me? I swore when I found Cage that night at the music awards that he would never get that chance again. So why was my heart aching for me to go back to him? Why was I so reckless when it came to him?
CHAPTER FOUR
Charlie
“Will you please slow down?” Nate pulled me to a stop in the middle of the dance floor. “Charlotte, why are you in such a rush?” I was not ready to share with Nate why I needed to put space between me and Cage. Just knowing he was here was enough to make me want to curl up in a ball and cry, or run to him and beg him to be my everything again. Neither was really an option as I would never rely on him or anyone else again for my wellbeing and happiness. It was just me.
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