“I need to check a few emails, Rhys, can I use your computer?” I ask as we pull to the curb at his office building.
“Of course you can, Beautiful. My laptop should be in the bedroom, help yourself and I will see you shortly.” He kisses me like a long hard goodbye before leaving me with a low grumble and a wink.
Chapter 13
As Charlie and I lurch through traffic, my mind wanders to the situation I have really created here. I am getting swallowed by his life so easily, so quickly. Maintaining balance is key and he throws me off kilter. If things don’t work out, I am on my own, I need to be in control. To drive my life. I cannot be absorbed into his world. I will surely lose myself and become my nightmare and his former. How long can this work before the curtain is ripped back, exposing me for a fraud, for a hypocrite, engulfed in artificial bliss and sexual heroin? The bile rises in my throat at the thought, and at how quickly my mind spins out of control. I tap the keyboard to wake the computer that Rhys so graciously donated in hopes of distracting myself. The screen springs to life with a black and white photo, large and strikingly focused, the tight curve and dramatic shadow of a woman’s hip sways across the screen, a cross section of dark and light. Folders pop up around the perimeter of the screen, and a window opens with what looks like Rhys’ email. I do not want to read his email. But, damn if her name doesn’t just jump off the screen and stab me in the heart when I think of the lengths I have gone to, to convince Rhys, and myself, that I am not wildly insecure about her. It is a lie, as I stare at her name in his inbox, I hate her, there needs to be a new word for hate, I loathe her. I do not want to read whatever melodious bile she writes to Rhys, rehashing the past or desperately clinging to him out of spite. My hands hover over the keyboard. I move the cursor to close the window, banish her from the screen, when I hear Rhys.
“Where are you, Beautiful? I am a starving man, come feed me, woman!” Pleasure licks at my spine, and I close my eyes to absorb every last drop. He walks into the room and I melt a little. Bending down over me, he gives me a long, soft kiss, running his tongue along my lips, ringing in my head like a bell choir.
“I was just going to check my email when an email popped up for you from Nadja.” I push the laptop towards him and hop from the bed heading to the bathroom to give him privacy. He plops down on the bed and pulls the computer into his lap.
“Did you read these?” he calls, a slight edge in his tone.
“No way, I wouldn’t do that. Why? What does she want?” I walk back into the room and stare into his dark, hollow eyes. I want to know why she is emailing him, what she is saying. But I don’t want him to know that, I don’t really want to admit it to myself. The color has drained from his face.
“To drive you away,” he murmurs, barely audible.
“Well, she can’t.” I sidle up behind him and wrap my arms around his neck. Looking down into his inbox there are several messages from her now, all labeled with similar titles, RNM, RNC, RNH, NSR, RNZ, RNDC, RNKA, NWR, nine in all. What the fuck is she doing? “You want me here, right?” I tease, squeezing him closer to me, tamping down the ever growing knot of jealousy that is settling in my belly.
“Yes, more than anything,” he rushes, the panic palpable now.
“Well then, she can’t possibly hurt us. Just open it, see what she has to say.” I reach down and double tap the cursor.
“Wait, Sophie! No!” But it is too late, my fingers have done the damage. I feel the color run from my face as a grainy video pops up. Staring back at me is a woman with a ball in her mouth, held too tightly by a menacing leather strap, hovering on all fours. Another woman dressed in stockings and heels towers behind her and hits her, hard, with a long riding crop. A man’s well shaped legs enter the shot and he moves behind her. She is panting, excited even, her face alight with anticipation. Melissa. Her dark eyes sparkle with that ego I saw in Miami as she stares into the camera, waiting. My stomach drops to the floor and my eyes are wide with fear for her, for me, as he moves to his knees behind her and fixes to slide his impressive cock into her quivering body. He sinks into her, lifts his head and looks dead at the camera. I am staring into eyes that make my heart stop. Everything comes crashing down. Damn it! I wish I had never seen that, I did not want to see that. I take a deep breath and hope for steady, but it does not come easy. I do not know what to do with this information. It is playing on a loop, stuck behind my eyes, and Rhys just watches me. I think I’m going to be sick. I push away from him and jump from the bed, ready to strike.
He sits, stone still, silent and pale as a ghost. I stand and watch him for what feels like forever. I watch him, like watching a monkey at the zoo. Waiting for them to screech, or make a face, or move. Dance monkey! But he remains a stone. I cannot even tell if he is breathing he is so stiff, he is motionless, and seemingly emotionless.
“Say something, Rhys.” I shiver at the quiet menace in my own voice. “Say something before my mind runs away.” My voice gets softer and softer as my blood pounds louder in my ears. I do not have the tools to deal with this, I do not even know how I feel. I feel sick, but surely that is because of Nadja. Everything she does makes me feel nuts, did she do this on purpose? Of course she did! She warned me not to underestimate her. And that was Melissa. What the hell? Everything about her makes more sense, she warned me too. No wonder she was such a bitch. I look up to find a still silent Rhys, gripping the now closed laptop with white knuckles, all the color drained from his face. Fuck.
“Sophie.” His voice crackles with pain when he finally finds his voice and I almost feel bad for him. But in that moment, when his lips move around my name, all I feel is white hot anger. He is a snake charmer and I am a fool. Every twist and turn has an excuse, and every time I accept whatever it may be. Charmed by his snake, his magic, I forget myself. He steps to the middle of the room and I move to get around him, knowing I have little capacity to withstand his touch. I back away from him and watch the gravity of the situation move across his eyes, a shadow of disbelief, and blooming frustration.
“Please! Don’t.” It starts as a booming yell, but ends in a whimper. I cannot rectify what I just saw, cannot shake it off. I back away from him.
“Sophie.” His tone is quiet, addressing a frightened babe. “I am sorry that you had to see that. I am sorry about everything. But, please. Let me explain. I told you she was trying to drive you way.” I shake my head violently, knowing that he will spin it all and I am clearly so foolish when it comes to him, so blind. I am unwilling to hear anything. I cannot bear the sound of his voice. I shake my head.
“She knew what she was doing, Sophie. Please don’t let her win. What you saw is my past. That is from almost two years ago, Sophie.”
“Shhhh!” I hiss at him. “Please, stop.” My ears burn, when I close my eyes my mind burns. There is no escape, no going back. Gripping my arms, he pulls me closer, winding his hand around my neck, immobilizing me with just his hand, forcing me to look into those eyes. “Of course she knew. She warned me.”
“What do you mean she warned you? What are you talking about, Sophie? You said that you didn’t speak with her.”
“Well, I did OK! I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of your attention. I didn’t want her to ruin our day, so much for that!” I back away from him, out of his reach.
“I don’t want this, Sophie. Not like this.”
“Please. Don’t touch me like that, not now. I can’t take it.” I push against his stone chest, knowing it could kill me. His strong hand wound about my neck, cradling my head, I will surely melt, or break. My heart is being strangled, squeezed within an inch of life. I can hardly catch my breath or stand still. Tears well in my eyes, I am drowning from within. A sob so deep it climbs from my toes threatens the cool silence between us, but I bite it back, a small bead of blood growing inside my bottom lip. I push past him and walk from the room with him just at my heels.
“Please, don’t leave.” He grabs his keys from the counter quickly
snapping them into his palm. “Please don’t leave,” he insists, “I will go. I will give you space, but please don’t leave.” I just shake my head at him, barely holding it together, my arms wrapped so tightly across my chest. He backs into the hallway and pleads again, a last ditch whisper. “Please, don’t leave.” I close the door on Rhys’ fallen face and the man who knows me best, the man I thought I knew. My heart is shattered, my legs no longer able to support the weight I have thrust upon them. My heavy, wounded heart pushes me down, I slide against the door, holding my back rigid, the floor stopping me from sinking into oblivion. The growing sob lodged in my throat finally escapes, ripping a hole in my heart, releasing the flood gates, welcoming the dark.
***
A loud sob erupts from her chest the moment she closes the door and I am a pillar, trapped on the spot, unable to walk away from her when she is in such pain. Like an immovable stone, I stand on the other side of the door and listen to her sink to the floor and cry. Her pain is palpable, filling the hallway, threatening to swallow me, as it should. I am the cause of her immense pain, I am the cause, again. I sit with my back to the door, my back to hers, and wait. For never ending moments, pain filled sobs are torn from her chest, full of heavy sorrow. I have never heard a more painful sound in my life. Finally, her cries grow softer as she catches her breath and I am grateful for her steady breathing, her fading sobs. She lets out a small groan, as if reminded of what she saw. Damn it! OK, so she saw me fucking Melissa while Nadja watched. A pit of growing anger settles in my gut and my blood begins to churn with questions, and an ever evolving anger. Struck by how reckless Nadja has become, she would risk exposing herself just to keep me from being happy. Sophie’s cries stop and I press my ear to the door, trying to hear her move. A hollow thud catches my attention as her shadow moves under the door.
“Sophie? Are you OK?” I hear her shuffle and her shadow disappears. A hysterical chuckle rattles from her throat and I can tell that she is still fighting tears.
“Rhys, what are you doing?” Her voice is raw and broken.
“I didn’t want to leave you.” She shifts and I turn and press my ear to the door. Her heart tugs at me across the barrier that divides us while I listen to her breathe, growing steady and deep, weaved with a quiet whimper. When her breath catches, her waves of grief wrap around my heart threatening to strangle me, squeezing the life out of me for hurting her.
“I’m glad you’re still here,” her hushed voice rings like a choir on high.
“I will never walk away from you, Sophie.” Her long silence slices through me.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Ok. I will sit here all day, Beautiful. Whatever you want, whatever you need. I am just so deeply sorry that you had to see that.” And I am, with every cell in my body. I wish I could take it back, but it cannot be erased or avoided.
“I am sorry, too.” After a long pause, an uncomfortable question crosses the door. “Are there more?” Her voice is barely audible, but echoes in my head. There is more, so much more. Fear grows like a beast and erupts from my chest in a fit of regretful disclosures.
“Sophie. I have done a lot of stupid things. It was a different time, I was a different person. Things were just, different. I don’t know what I can say.” And I have no idea what I want him to say. How do you explain that away? “I know that you probably don’t understand, but I beg of you to hear me out. I was a jerk. I have always been in control, always gotten what I wanted. And after a while that sort of spoiled indulgence makes you dark and jaded. But, with you, I have no control. The closer I get to you, the deeper I push the less control I have. I can’t remember any of those girls. Not their faces, not their names. Not since you. You wiped it all away. There is only you. You are my saving grace.”
“Do you still want that?”
“No! My God, Sophie. It is all in the past, where it should have stayed. She is just trying to drive you away.”
“Good.” I hear her whisper. After a long pause, she breaks the silence. “Have you ever filmed me?”
“No!” The strangled declaration rips from my throat. “Sophie, I would never do that to you.”
“Why did you do it?” The small whisper shrouds the force of a harsh question. How am I supposed to answer that? We were young, jaded and utterly bored. Everything was done to the extreme, so much experimenting and debauchery. I don’t know how to answer. I fill my lungs and try to form an answer that makes sense, that will satisfy her, without hurting her.
“I was a jerk, Sophie. It’s in a man’s best interest to hide the worst parts of himself. I never wanted you to know those parts.”
“You can’t pick and choose, Rhys. If we are going to be together, I need to know all your parts.”
I smile to myself, knowing she is right and elated at her admission that we are together.
“Are we together?” I ask with undisguised hope.
“Rhys, I am here aren’t I? I have locked myself in your apartment. I am not going anywhere, unless you continue to keep me in the dark. You cannot hide who you were. It makes you who you are. I hate what I saw. I hate that you did any of it. But what you did back then has nothing to do with me, right?”
“I didn’t mean to keep you in the dark. I thought I was protecting you.” The lock slides open and she stands above me. I move to my feet, backing away from the door. Her shoulders slump forward and she expels a deep, long held breath. Allowing a small smile to raise the corner of her tear stained mouth, she shakes her head and I am lost. Stepping into the hallway, she takes me by surprise when she takes my hand and pulls me back into the apartment. Squeezing my fingers as she kicks the door shut, I am hopeful.
“I don’t need your protection, Rhys, I just need you.” Her wide green eyes are red rimmed, glossy with fading tears, and I am trapped. Even as her face is stained with tears, she is beautiful, and she needs me. “You need me?” I relish in the thought. She scoffs at the question, wrinkling her eyebrow.
“Yes. You have become something of a necessity. Are you happy?”
“You have no idea.” I am elated, beyond my wildest dreams. She needs me. The thought soothes my soul, a welcome cloak of contentment wrapped around my shoulders. She will be my light as I fight off the dark.
We stand in the entryway, bathed in the fading rays of the sun. I feel like I am holding on for dear life, grasping at something that could fall away at any moment. Yet he stands here, steadfast in my arms.
“What did she say to you, Sophie?” He holds me at arms-length at watches my face twist with remembrance.
“Nadja? She seems to think that you have not outgrown her.” His eyes narrow in on me. “She laughed in my face. Told me that you were broken, that she broke you.” His icy reaction chills my blood. “She said that I wasn’t good enough for you. That everyone had a breaking point. She warned me not to underestimate her.” Nostrils flaring like a bull, he rubs his hands up my arms, pulls me closer and waits. Towering above me, he waits for me to close the gap and curl into him, and I want to. But my feet will not allow it, his hands on my arms, the feel of his skin against mine, looking him in the eyes burns, bringing flashes of the grainy video. I want to claw my eyes out. Tears well up and I start to sob. “God, it hurts.” I grasp at the sucking wound in my chest. “I wish I had never seen it.” His face twists in pain while he watches me suffer. “Every time I close my eyes, there you are.” A shiver rolls through me and my whole body shakes uncontrollably.
“We will have to replace what is behind those lids. I think I can do that.” The edge is still sharp, but his voice is warm and silky, yet rubs me the wrong way. This is not a joke. My mind is permanently seared with a vision that I cannot escape.
“How would you feel if you saw a video of me like that?” I snap at him.
“Am I in the video?” he smirks. His mistimed teasing may cost us both if he doesn’t take this seriously.
“Do I seem in a joking mood?”
“No, sorry.” He s
teps back and looks at me, searching my face.
“Rhys, you almost lost your mind over some guy I used to know for like a minute, five years ago. There is no video, no evidence and certainly no extensive digital library of my past escapades. How would you feel if you saw me and Andrew?” His eyes grow dark, his form more rigid and I know he is thinking about it, thinking about me, on my knees with some strange man kneeling behind me. He looks into my eyes and I see the ice form across his once warm, green pools.
“Murderous,” he growls through gritted teeth
“Exactly!” Finally, he understands!
“Well, we can’t kill Nadja.” His tightly wound voice struggles to sound light and jovial. I step closer to him and gingerly curl against his chest.
“Oh, I don’t want to kill her. I want to hurt her.” Listening to his rapid heart and ragged breath, I am overcome, wading in hatred. Never has another person solicited such violent feelings of hate. Running my hands down Rhys’ back, I think about what she has tried to do, over and over again and I hate her. She keeps trying to take this away from me. I will not let her.
“Are we ok?” he asks.
“We will be.” And I mean it. I am not okay now, but I will be.
“Still up for dinner tonight? Olivia called and was not in a flexible state of mind, she is missing you. But, if you’re not up to it…”
“That sounds fine. I just need a little time, an hour or so.” His brows knit together and he questions me with his eyes, looking down at his watch.
“OK, Beautiful. I can give you an hour. I have a quick errand to run and then I will pick you up. How does that sound, Beautiful?” It stings a bit when he says it, and I know what I have to do.
Speak (The Voice trilogy Book 2) Page 13