And the Sweet (Addiction Series Book 2)

Home > Other > And the Sweet (Addiction Series Book 2) > Page 8
And the Sweet (Addiction Series Book 2) Page 8

by Delilah Frost


  Yes, one had been a massive mistake. I knew Hayley was the second it happened. But again, she was a master manipulator. And the other, the only woman I can or will ever love.

  “So you’ve really never been with any of them?”

  She shakes her head no. “I wouldn’t do that. And despite what being with Frankie suggests, like I said, I thought you were with someone else. I wasn’t cheating on you. I couldn’t cheat on you.”

  I swallow hard. She’s so earnest in her words and my heart is pounding. But there’s something I need to know. “How many…how many people have you… been with?”

  Her cheeks pink again. I’m not going to like this answer even though it’s not really my right to feel anger about it anymore. “Uh, four?” she says like she’s not sure. I’m wondering if she’s just trying to keep me from feeling pissed off again. Again, I don’t really have a right to, but I can’t help the feelings regardless. I give her a look that says elaborate and she does with a huff. “You, Frankie, some guy named Andrew I hooked up with when I was told you hadn’t broken things off with Hayley yet though I now realise you already had.” I want to ask when this was; before her beat down of Hayley, when so many untruths were running rampant, and especially from Hayley herself? Or was it after the attack and she simply didn’t believe me when I said I wasn’t with Hayley, and that despite appearances, had never been and never wanted to be. I also want to ask who told her these things because I want to hurt them for hurting her. “Oh and um, Rina.”

  And in that moment, everything I had just been thinking flies out of my head.

  “What about Rina?”

  A deep red tints her cheeks. She bites her plump lip and won’t meet my eyes. “Um, a one-time thing?” she answers again using a question.

  “Wait, Rina as in the girl Rina?” My brain is scrambled at this point. I almost wonder if I heard her right or if I’ve really lost my mind. I mean Celia just admitted to having sex with a woman. I think. And being the man that I am, I’m not opposed to seeing this. Chick fights, no. Girl on girl sex? Absolutely!

  “Yes?”

  “Jesus fuck.” My dick hardens because without even trying to, I’m picturing it. Rina is hot. Not Cecelia hot, because where Celia is size twelve voluptuous muscles and curves and has the tits and ass and the hips that I love to grip, Rina is petite and feisty and fucking spritely as hell. At least that’s what I remember from the select few times I actually saw her or had any contract with her. “Were you drunk?” It’s a viable question, and turns the conversation a little more serious. Since we left the rehab center when we were teenagers, Cecelia and I try not to imbibe in anything. A drink or two here and there for her, but nothing more. We went through treatment once, and it sucked. The last thing we want is to become addicted again.

  And though there was a not-so-one-time occurrence where we tried and then let the booger sugar dictate our actions, and my memory of that time is blurry at best – I see limbs moving, touching, hear moans, and feel pleasure – we have managed to stay clean. Because like I said, rehab sucks. And as adults, jail is the option if we fail.

  Jail or death.

  “I’d had a little but I was in full function of my faculties,” she says full of honesty. I can see she wants me to know she hadn’t done this because of inebriation, that she doesn’t want me to think badly of her for having a drink. I don’t. She’s an adult. I know she won’t drink to intoxication and not just because of my issues. We’re still recovering addicts; the slightest thing could be our downfall.

  “When…um, when was this?” I ask around a sudden lump in my throat. It’s a mix of jealousy – for someone else touching her – and lust because it was a woman, and again, a very strong part of me wants to see that. In spite of the jealousy.

  “It was…it was after you tried talking to me at work, at her going away party from work.” She looks away from me, shame covering her face. I wonder what she’s thinking and why.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just, I didn’t trust you, Chace. I didn’t trust that you were telling me the truth, or that you really were worried about me beyond obligation due to our time knowing one another.” She still won’t look at me. “I wasn’t gonna go to the party, but Melody told me it would be good for me to get out a bit. I never went anywhere, did anything. I just worked and hid away. Mel has always been decent to me, especially letting me stay with her for that time, so I felt like I owed it to her to go.”

  I shake my head. I still can’t believe how fucked up this whole thing turned out. I still can’t believe how fucked up I was to let it all happen because regardless of how we got to that point, it truly was all my fault. Because while Cecelia might not have been a saint, letting the guys close to her but still held at arm’s length, she never once betrayed me, not like I’d been told. Not like I’d accused. Not like I’d believed. And in the end, I’d wasted two years of us. Two years of what we could have been.

  “How did you and Rina end up together then?” I ask simply to change the dismal thoughts in my head. I want us to move forward. I know I have a lot to make up for, but I know we can’t live in past regrets. Not if we have a shot at a future.

  “Oh uh, she said… I mean I told her,” face flushed and words stuttered, Celia blows out a heavy breath. “We were talking. We were talking about our interests. Talked about how though we worked together for a few years, at two different places, we never really hung out or knew one another.” And then the dam releases. “We just talked. And she’s pretty. She said she thought I was pretty. Though I didn’t drink a lot, I did have liquid courage. Rina said she’d always thought about kissing me, so I let her. And I kissed her back. And then, well, one thing led to another, I guess.”

  Pulling her to me, I remove her tank and skirt. We have other things we still need to get through, but for now, I want the heavy shit to be put aside. I want my heart to not feel like it’s about to be crushed.

  “Tell me all about it,” I say to her as I take an erect nipple into my mouth. The mood once more at ease, I say, “I want every last detail.” I’m not going to make it down to fight my second round tonight. And fuck if I care to lose tonight.

  NINE

  Sitting on the sidewalk, I watch Silas and Toby duke it out. They’ve been going at it for nearly half an hour at this point and no one looks ready to fall. Then again, I guess I can see why. Toby thinks Silas fucked his woman. Silas is trying to defend his word that he didn’t.

  These two only needed one to see the other talking to the girl and their shit lead to this fight. Initially, Toby wasn’t supposed to fight tonight, his name not selected, but when it comes to personal issues, vendettas, grudges and arguments, this group understands sometimes you just gotta air shit out.

  So here it goes. A battle of these two arguing and boxing to solve their issues.

  Whoever wins this fight takes me on. That was supposed to be the plan from before they started squabbling like children. But with the way it’s taking so fucking long to end, it’s starting to look like it’ll have to be postponed till tomorrow. Cause there ain’t no way I’m fighting someone who isn’t up to par. When I win, people know I won. Not that it was handed to me by a tired opponent. But if the fight is postponed; shit. That’s the last thing I want. Too many fights in one day could be costly. I definitely don’t want to be seen as the tired opponent.

  “For fuck’s sake, Silas didn’t fuck Deenie. Ain’t nobody but you wanna fuck that bitch,” Stretch calls to Toby. He's not wrong. Deenie is drama personified and no one knows why Toby puts up with her.

  “Fuck you, Stretch,” calls Toby and it’s enough of a distraction for Silas to throw the winning punch. As Toby hits the ground, he's cussing everyone out, blaming everyone for his loss. Stretch just laughs like it’s the funniest shit he's ever seen. I don’t. First, he shoulda channeled that anger and used it to win. Like Celia made me admit, that's what I do. And it works. There’s nothing better like beating the shit out of someone who thin
ks they got a shot with your girl.

  But I also don't laugh because I feel her coming. And I'm not the only one who notices. “Celia, baby. You are looking mighty fine.” All eyes are on her, the guys and the girls gathered. “You finally come to let me have you all to myself for good?” Stretch asks still laughing.

  I tense. My whole body locks down in anger and irritation and worse, jealousy. It doesn't matter that I know she's telling the truth about not being with any of these assholes. My head had heard it for so long, it's still trying to catch up to the lie. But then I hear her raspy voice. “You wish, lover boy,” Celia begins, her tone mocking, and for the first time toward the guys, not entirely kind. “We both know you never had me once. And it ain’t ever gonna happen.” She drops gracefully down to the sidewalk beside me. She's in skin tight jeans and K Swiss sneakers. Her top is one of my old t-shirts cut to hang off her shoulder. She did this on purpose. My clothes, sitting next to me, outright rejecting Stretch when she's never done so before.

  We both know they heard us fucking the other night. We both know I can stake my claim on her all I want. I can mark her, which I did on the inside of her thigh near her pussy, on the sensitive skin under both breasts, and two nibbles on her neck. I can even fuck her in front of them. But they would just look at that as a free fucking show. These fuckers don't respect me enough to back off my girl. But if she claims me? All bets are off.

  She's not flirting. She's not even playing tonight. Right now, Cecelia Santos is sending a loud message.

  “Hey, baby,” I say to her and she smiles so big and bright for me. It makes my heart thump and my breath catch. Cecelia hasn't given me one of those smiles in years.

  “Hey, back.” She leans in, her lips brushing against mine so softly it makes me want more. Her brown eyes flicker toward the audience I'm sure we have and a wicked grin paints her lips. “I missed you this morning. It sucks you had to work so early. I wanted to feel you inside me before I had to go to work.”

  I gulp. I'm trying to not harden at her words, but I wish I could've been buried inside her too. It felt so good waking up beside her again that I almost called in just to lose myself in her. But while I make good bank fighting, I have a regular job. It's not the most glamorous but it keeps me looking straight and narrow. Unfortunately, Chicago tends to have bitterly cold winters, so fighting helps me save some extra cash during the times I can’t work my regular job.

  Celia is a little luckier. Being a bartender at Coco Pazzo, a swanky French restaurant a bit of a ride from our Bridgeport living quarters is better than the cold. Her job is okay and all. It has its moments. Like the guys who flirt with her incessantly, or having to schmooze with the rich bastards of Chicago, but at least it's year round.

  “How was work,” I ask as I start stretching to loosen my muscles. It'll be a few before I fight Silas, but for some reason coming off one fight right into another is always easier than waiting. At least for me.

  “It was okay, I guess.” She looks toward the guys, watches them as they go back to fighting without the punches, their mouths and words doing all the work. Stretch has joined, as has Kiko and Fife. The only one missing tonight is Brutal because his girl is due to give birth to their second child sometime soon.

  “Just okay?” I prod as Celia helps rub my arms down.

  “That skeezy guy was back tonight. Had to get Jeena to cover my side cause he wouldn't leave me alone.” She shivers and I can’t help my muscles locking down. It pisses me off to no end that some fucker has started bothering her, at work no less, and there’s nothing I can do. It's not like I can pay her a visit anymore. For one, my looks alone, with the tattoos and the new piercings I got in my lip are enough to keep me out. But there's also the matter of a suit; I still don’t own one and they have a dress code.

  Since Trey doesn’t work all the time now that he’s apparently heading up their security, I can’t just get by because I’ve got a fan watching the door. It blows. I’m mean it’s great for him, having the opportunity, but it fucking sucks for me. Not to mention I appreciated having him keep an eye out when I couldn’t. Not that he knew that’s how I felt, but still.

  I open my mouth to say something but close it quickly. The look on Celia’s face has me chastised before I even have a chance to deserve it. “Whatever you're thinking, stop it now.”

  “This fucking sucks, Celia. What am I supposed to do here? I mean I know you can handle yourself, and I'm so glad for that, but baby, don't you get it? I see you in a situation that is way fucking below ideal and I wanna fix it for you.” I've taken her hands, caressing the soft skin of her wrists. From all appearances Cecilia Santos looks delicate, but she's probably the strongest person I know. “I want to help you not have to deal with this guy anymore.”

  She looks toward the guys still arguing and the cluster of females gathered around them now. A heavy sigh leaves her pink painted lips. “I know you want to help, but I can't lose this job, Chace. He could cause bigger trouble than just creeping me out. And I need the money.” I go to interject that I’d take care of her, that I make enough that she’d be okay not working and dealing with this guy, but she seems to know. “I can't be kept. From the moment we met, you knew I had to do things on my own. That hasn't changed.” Celia shakes her head, her long ponytail swishing back and forth. “We only just got us back,” she whispers, pain sneaking into her words and I'm taken aback at where she's going with this. “I can't… I can't take a risk that you… that you'd walk away from me again. And if I depend on you and you decide, we'll if you go away again, I will truly have nothing left.”

  My breath leaves in a whoosh and I feel my skin turn ice cold. Looking at Celia, seeing how her bottom lip is trembling as she tries to keep it still, has my heart breaking. She's fighting so desperately to keep from crying, from showing weakness, especially here in front of these people. With shaky hands I gently cup her face. Swallowing the lump that forced its way into my throat, I try to speak. “Cecelia, I am so sorry for hurting you. I am so sorry that we've gotten to this point where you can't trust that I won't do it again.” She doesn't argue and that guts me. It's been years, nearly two, since Hayley, and yet the ghost of that time won't leave “You mean everything to me. You are my whole world. If I could back and change what I did, I would do it in a heartbeat. A fucking heartbeat, baby.

  “But I can't. All I can do is work to win your trust back. And I swear on my life, I will do everything in my power to convince you of what you mean to me.” The last bit I say in a fierce whisper. And with a final check that our conversation is still private, I lean in to her, hovering over her lips. “I love you, Cecelia. I love you so fucking much.”

  She gasps. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. But it's the truth. It's my God’s honest truth. I met Cecelia when I was sixteen. We were thrust together by addiction and stuck by each other when everyone else walked away. And while we dated, and it was serious, love had never passed our lips, even though that’s what it had been. I needed to remedy that because like I said, it's my truth. She's my truth. Without Cecelia, I am nothing.

  “Oh God, Chace, please mean that,” she cries.

  “I do, baby. I love you so much I can’t breathe sometimes. And being away from you, being someone you simply scratched an itch with has been absolute torture,” I tell her pulling back to look at her.

  Tears are pooling in her eyes. With one blink, I watch them fall down her face. I do everything I can to catch them. “I love you, too,” she says through a sob. It's all I can I do to not take her home and ravage her. I've loved her for a long time, probably from the moment we met, so to be able to tell her and have her tell me back is like fucking perfection.

  But I can't do what I want because the bickering has stopped and I know my time to fight is now. Without looking away to confirm the others are watching us, I brush my lips across Celia’s. “I gotta go fight, baby. And after I win, I'm gonna take you home and make love you all night. Fast, slow, hard, soft, however you wan
t it, baby.”

  A smile peaks onto her lips. “I'm looking forward to it. Now go beat Silas.”

  I do just that. The thrill of knowing Cecelia is my girl, that I'm truly hers, knowing that she loves me, and accepts my love in return, it's all I need to make quick work of Silas. Ten minutes after the fight begins, I'm walking hand in hand with Celia toward my apartment where I intend to keep my promise to her.

  We ignore the comments directed our way. Ignore the remarks about what we're heading to do. None of them matter. I should know this. I do know this. The woman snuggled against my side, hand in mine, is proof of it.

  “You were so good tonight, Chace. Wish I coulda watched your first fight.”

  “Eh, it was too easy. Fife wasn’t concentrating at all,” I tell her as we reach my block.

  “That's cause Mel’s friend Jody shot him down earlier.” I look at her at this revelation, surprise surely covering my face. “Yeah, she came to the bar tonight, told me he told her he was done playing games.”

  “So what happened?”

  “That bitch he fucks around with, Farrah, Fauna or some shit, you know that platinum bottle blond? Well she called during this talk and the jackass answered!” Celia’s voice rises in her disbelief and I can't help but chuckle. Clearly Fife has taken one too many hits to the head. “She said he didn't blow this chick off, tell her he was done with her, just said to give him a minute. Jody told him he was a piece of shit walking disease and to leave her alone.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, so that's probably why. Maybe he was thinking about how much of a fuck up he's been. Though this is Fife we’re talking about so I doubt he knows how to get that deep or think of anyone other than himself and his dick.”

  I nod, thinking about my own understanding of disaster. I am so fucking lucky to have Cecelia under my arm right now as we walk the long steps up to my shitty apartment. Given what transpired she has every right to hate me. To never forgive anything involving me. The fact she doesn’t hate me and is offering me this second chance means everything.

 

‹ Prev