by Jacob Chance
She ducks her chin and lowers her eyes. “Thank you,” she softly replies.
I lift her chin with my finger. “You are, you know. You need to get used to me telling you. You’re going to be hearing it a lot.” I softly brush her lips with mine. “Let’s head back home, unless there’s someplace else you want to go.”
“I can’t think of anything else I’d like to do except relax on my couch.”
We continue down the sidewalk side by side. I take her hand, once again. “Do you like football?”
“I don’t really know anything about it. Sports have never been my thing.”
“What?” I put my hand on my chest and stagger like she stabbed me in the heart. She giggles and covers her mouth with her mitten.
“How can you not like football? That’s un American.”
“I guess you’ll have to teach me about it,” she replies.
“I’m going to teach you all kinds of things.”
“Why did you and Christopher break up?” I ask once we’re seated on her couch. I want to know. I’ve waited long enough.
Her head snaps in my direction and her eyes go wide. I know she doesn’t want to talk about him, but he’s like the elephant in our relationship. It’s past time to address it.
“We didn’t break up,” she answers softly. They didn’t break up?
“What do you mean?” I ask, scowl on my face as I imagine her still involved with this dude.
“He committed suicide,” she whispers. Her shoulders roll forward and her body shrinks when her arms hug her middle.
I pick her up, pulling her into my arms. Fuck. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”
She shakes her head and crawls onto me, her arms wrap around my shoulders. Her forehead pressed to my neck, she straddles my lap and lets the tears flow.
“I want to tell you,” she sniffs. “It’s still difficult for me to talk about. I don’t think it will ever be easy no matter how much time passes.”
I cup her tear stained cheeks in my hands, tilting her face up. “It’s up to you. I’m not going to force you to talk about something that causes you pain.”
She blinks, and takes a deep breath. “He took a whole bottle of antidepressants and went to sleep with me in my bed.” She chews on her bottom lip as the tears start to trail down her cheeks. “I woke up the next morning and found him. He was so cold.” She closes her eyes and shudders before looking up at me. “I could tell he had been gone for hours. His lips were blue.” A tear falls down her cheek and I wipe it away with my thumb. “He must have waited until I was asleep to take the pills.” Her eyes lower. “I felt guilty for so long for not waking up sooner. If I had maybe he could have been saved.”
“Look at me,” I urge, my hands still on her cheeks. “That’s not your fault. None of what happened is your fault.”
“I know that now. He suffered from depression for most of his life and he never told me. He never showed signs of anything being wrong until the month before he died.” She grips my wrists with her hands. “He wasn’t acting like himself. I kept asking what was wrong and he made me think I was crazy for thinking something was off.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through all that.” She lets go of my wrists and my hands fall from her face to her shoulders. “You’re amazing,” I tell her, squeezing her shoulders.
Her eyebrows dip together. “How do you figure?”
“You’ve been through so much and you haven’t let it change you. You haven’t let it stop you from living.”
At my words, she begins to sob uncontrollably. My arms tighten around her and I softly caress over the back of her hair with one hand. In this moment, I despise myself because I can’t find the strength to walk away from her, even though I know I’m the worst thing for her.
19
Zack
Lying here on my couch with Lana in my arms, I feel more at peace than I ever have. We’ve been spending as much time together as possible over the past two weeks. She’s changing me in ways I never thought I would. My need for revenge has been replaced with my need for her. My hate filled heart is now overflowing with the love I feel for her.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at me. “You look so serious.”
I gaze down at her. “I was just thinking about how much I’ve changed since I met you. I wasn’t a good man before.”
She turns over to her back, her brow furrowed. “I hate when you say things like that. You’re a wonderful person, Zack. You show me all the time with your actions.”
“Someday soon I need to tell you about my past and you’re not going to feel the same about me after I do. Until then I want you to know I’ve never been so happy before.” I caress her cheek with the back of my fingers and stare into the bottomless pools of blue green staring up at me. “I love you, Lana.” Her eyes open wide. “I just want you to know.”
She bites her lip and nods. I know she’s not ready to say those words back to me. Maybe she never will be.
Wrapping her hands around the back of my neck she pulls me down until our lips are an inch apart and we lock gazes. Her eyes tell me what she’s not able to and for now it’s good enough.
I capture her lips with mine, dropping my chest down as I stretch out on top of her. Our kisses are long and slow. She’s my addiction. I can never get enough of her.
I slowly remove each article of our clothing until I can sink between her thighs. My strokes are slow, as I take my time, drawing it out. This is the first time I’ve ever made love.
“I want you to meet my friends soon.” Lana informs me as we dine in one of the sandwich shops in our neighborhood.
I almost inhale the bite of burger in my mouth. I catch it right before it goes down the wrong pipe. Calm down. I caution myself. I knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. Stick with the plan.
“Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe we can get together with them in a few weeks. Right now, I want to keep you all to myself,” I answer stalling. I need more time with her before I can confess all my sins. I need her to be so in love with me she can forgive me. Fuck. Sweat trickles down the middle of my back. I’m calm on the outside, but on the inside, I’m a fucking wreck. I can see everything we have being obliterated by what I need to confess. Coming clean with her should be a priority, before she figures it out on her own.
“You have me to yourself all the time.” She smiles.
“I know, but I’m greedy. I’m not ready to share you yet.” I wink.
We continue eating our meal in comfortable silence and my heart’s finally beating at a normal rate again.
“Shoot.” She shakes her hand and then sucks on her finger.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I just reopened a cut. I think I have a band aid in my purse.” She places the small black leather bag on the table and rifles through it. She removes items one at a time placing them on the table. Chap stick, gum, her wallet and a folded up piece of paper. “I know I have one in here somewhere,” she mutters.
My eyes move to the piece of paper she pulled out. It looks old; like it’s been opened and refolded hundreds of times. My curiosity is piqued now.
“Got it,” she says with a triumphant smile as she holds the bandage up for me to see.
I watch her while she meticulously wraps it around her finger. Everything Lana does, she does with purpose.
“What’s that?” I ask, jerking my chin toward where the paper sits on the table in front of her.
She looks panicked for a moment. “This?” She points to the very thing that has me so curious. I don’t know why I need to know what secrets it contains, but I just have a gut feeling it’s important.
“It’s Christopher’s suicide letter.” Her hands drop to her lap as she folds in on herself. She’s getting smaller and smaller in her seat as I watch her.
“Lana, it’s okay, angel. Tell me about it.” I lay my hand down on the table palm up and wait for he
r to place hers down. My fingers gently close around hers while I wait for her to begin.
“I found this letter after they took Christopher away. He said he’d suffered from depression his whole life. He never told me because he looked at it as a weakness and he didn’t want me to think of him as damaged.” She takes a sip of her water. “He was tired of dealing with it and he didn’t want to put me through it.” I nod my head in encouragement. “He’d been acting strange for a while and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. I thought he was unhappy with us and didn’t want to marry me anymore.”
She stops speaking and closes her eyes. She takes a deep, slow breath and when her eyes open they’re shining with unshed tears. “He said...he said he wanted to leave this world holding me in his arms.” She sniffs and wipes her eyes with her free hand.
I squeeze the one still in my grasp.
Our gazes lock, hers filled with so much pain. “He said he couldn’t think of a more perfect way to pass on into the unknown than having me, the person he loved most there with him.”
I let go of her hand and move to sit next to her on the bench seat of our booth. Pulling her into my arms, I caress her hair as she quietly cries. She’s been through so much and she keeps pushing on. I’m a bastard for selfishly pursuing and wanting to be with her. My secrets could be the thing to break her for good.
“Are you staying here tonight?”
Her head lifts from her kindle, turning to look at me seated beside her on the couch. “Do you want me to stay?” she questions.
“How is that even a question at this point? If I had my way, you’d stay here with me twenty-four-seven and never leave.”
She giggles and then squeals when I scoop her up in my arms. I carry her to my bedroom and throw her down on the bed.
“I have a present for you.” I smirk when her eyes light up. “I know how much you’ve liked my surprises so far.” The over the door restraints were a big hit. I think she’ll like this too.
“Take your clothes off,” I order as I unbutton my pants, then tug my henley off. Pushing my jeans, boxers and socks off all at the same time, I stalk toward her now naked body, relaxed on my bed. I settle down on top of her and connect our lips. Our tongues rub and I press the tip of my cock against her entrance. I want to thrust inside her, but I have something special planned.
My lips trail down her neck and move to circle a nipple. I suck on the hard, pink tip and then pinch it between my teeth. She gasps, bucking her hips toward mine.
“You like that, angel?”
“Mm,” she moans. My tongue slides over to lick her other nipple and my fingers slip inside her dripping wet pussy.
“Yes...please,” she begs making my cock even harder.
“Turn over,” I order, sitting back on my heels.
She flips to her stomach and I pull her up to her knees. Her back is flush with my chest.
“Stay just like this,” I tell her as I reach inside the deep drawer of my nightstand. I remove the thigh cuffs I purchased for her and slide one around the back of a leg. I fasten the Velcro closure in the front of her thigh, and then secure her hand in the wrist cuff attached on the side. I repeat the steps on the other side until she’s bound, hands cuffed to each thigh.
“All good, angel?” I ask, making sure she’s on board where this is headed.
“I like this.”
Her unexpected answer almost makes me lose control. Wrapping an arm around her stomach, I lower my chest down until I’m pressed against her back. She has no way of balancing without the use of her arms. Having her face down, ass up in front of me has me thrusting my dick balls deep inside her without warning.
“Oh,” she cries out.
I pull back and drive back inside her tight walls. “Fuck.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and hold still fighting for control. “You’re mine,” I growl as I begin to move again. “I fucking own every inch of you.”
Watching my dick move in and out of her cunt is unbelievably hot. It looks like I’m fucking her ass and someday soon I will be. Thinking about being inside her tight hole pushes me over the edge. I pull out of her and paint her curvy ass with my release. It’s the male equivalent of marking our territory. It’s primal. The sight of my come marking her skin has my dick hard all over again.
20
Lana
“Janny thought she saw Zack the other day,” Kyle mentions to Derek and I in the middle of our meeting. We’ve been discussing upcoming clients and their cases.
Derek’s head snaps up. “What?”
I focus on writing my notes. I like to make lists of what I need to do for each case.
Kyle rakes his teeth over his bottom lip. “Janny thinks she might have seen Zack the other day. She was at a light on Comm Ave and she saw someone who looked just like him.”
My ears perk up at the mention of the name Zack. I smile as I think of my Zack. He’s so sweet to me. Just this morning he made me breakfast while I got ready for work.
“You need to start your day right,” he said.
“I thought the two orgasms you gave me was a pretty great start,” I replied.
Heat washes over me just thinking about him. I squeeze my legs together and tuck my chin in my chest. Kyle and Derek are both observant and don’t miss much. I hope they can’t tell what I’m thinking about.
“Motherfucker. How could he be alive?” Derek’s voice raises catching my attention. He places his cup of coffee down on Kyle’s desk and leans back in the chair. “You stabbed him in the stomach.” He raises his thumb. “He was bleeding everywhere.” He raises his index finger. “And they found his body.” He raises his middle finger.
What? His name is Zack and if he was stabbed in the stomach he’d have a big scar - a big scar like my Zack does.
My chest goes weak.
My heart races.
My ears ring.
I can’t breathe.
“I’ve had eyes and ears on the street since it happened. Body or not, I’m not taking any chances. No one’s seen any sign Zack Weston could be alive in all these months,” Kyle says. His answer doesn’t reassure me at all. “They’ve searched online too. No activity on any of his social media accounts and no sign of any financial transactions whatsoever.”
Oh, my God. What if my Zack is the one who did all the horrible things to Kyle and Janny?
Calm down. Zack is a good man. He wouldn’t do any of those things.
My mind flashes back to the conversation we had last week and what he said to me.
“I was just thinking about how much I’ve changed since I met you. I wasn’t a good man before.
Someday soon I need to tell you about my past and you’re not going to feel the same about me after I do. Until then I want you to know I’ve never been so happy before.”
Was he trying to tell me he had done unspeakable things in his past?
How could he be the man I love and a monster all at the same time?
I quickly rise to my feet. “I’m not feeling great.” I place my hand on my stomach. “I think I might be sick,” I say. It’s the absolute truth. I’m completely nauseous. I bolt from the room, running to my office as quickly as possible.
Slamming the door shut, I lock myself inside and lean back against the cool wood. My chest hurts and my breaths are labored. What do I do?
I need answers and standing here isn’t going to help me get them.
I hurry across the room and take a seat behind my desk. Placing my fingers on the keys to my laptop I take a deep breath. When I exhale, I log into my Facebook account.
“Lana,” Kyle calls my name and knocks on the door. Shoot.
“I’m okay. I’ll be out in a few.” I run my hand over my eyes.
Zachary Weston. I say the name in my mind. I remember everything I’ve ever heard about him - every dirty detail. That’s why I can’t believe it could possibly be my Zack.
I type in Zachary Weston into the search bar at the top of my page and hold my bre
ath. A list of matches pops up and I begin scrolling through them. I’m almost to the end and just starting to breathe a sigh of relief, when I see the picture. No. It’s a much younger, clean shaven version of my Zack.
I click on the profile, still in denial of what’s right before my eyes.
The page comes up and I realize he hasn’t posted anything on it in almost two years. But I can’t deny any longer it’s him. It’s him.
My hands cover my nose and mouth. “Oh, my God, oh, my God,” I whisper and then burst into tears. I’m so stupid. I believed everything he told me, no questions asked. He made me fall in love with him.
What kind of monster does that?
Immediately shutting down my computer, I slip my jacket on and grab my bag. I rush out of my office and down the hallway without a word to Kyle or Derek. All I can think about is the impending confrontation awaiting me when I get back home.
The drive is a blur. I can’t concentrate on anything, but Zack’s enormous betrayal. My chest is on fire; my heart’s been ripped right out - shredded into pieces.
Why does this stuff happen to me? Why do I always pick the men who can hurt me the most?
When I enter our building my stomach is in knots. I hate confrontation, but I’m not going to let him get away with this. He needs to know this sick game is over. I’m not going to be a pawn for him to move around his life size chess board.
Anger fuels each step as I stomp up the stairs. It burns in my veins all the way to his door and then in a blink it disappears. I lean against the wall; my legs are weak. I almost crumble to the ground. I can’t do this. I place my hand on his door and the memories of all our good times flood my mind.
Guilt washes over me. I’m a horrible friend right now. Instead of thinking about Janny and the horrible things he did to her, all I can focus on is how good he was to me - how safe he made me feel.
Was it all lies? Was I just a sick game to him?