My eyes go wide as he pulls out a needle connected to a small rubber tubing that feeds into another plastic tube on the opposite end of the needle. "It's nothing to panic over, boy. I need a few samples to be able to find out your identity. I'm not a magician."
"You need blood?"
"Among other things. Sit tight. You'll be out of that chair and on your way before you know it." He rounds the desk and begins walking in the direction of the bar. In a few short strides he arrives and starts pouring the bronze liquid in the glass beside it. I watch as he chugs it back like it's the necessity he needs to make it through the day. What could this guy possibly have in his life that seems so bad? The man is probably a billionaire and he’s slamming back liquor in the middle of the day.
I'm so wrapped up in watching him drink that I fail to notice the rubber tie tightened around my bicep. "Form a fist," he says as he uncaps the needle. Doing as he says, I turn my head as he plunges the needle into the vein of my inner arm. It hurts no more than a small sting, but for some reason the pain is worse if you watch the needle enter your arm. I do like to watch as the blood drains from my arm into the test tube.
After he gets the sample he needs he caps the tube and places a bandage over the small hole in my arm. Blood down and hair to go; he runs a fine tooth comb through my hair and my eyes wander to the mysterious man I know nothing about. I notice him staring vacantly out the window, still pouring the liquid down his throat like water. I want to ask him questions, but was already warned against it.
Sitting here I feel like I've been pricked and prodded, after being fingerprinted and had DNA samples taken from hair, saliva, and blood. If I didn't know any better I would think that I was being drug tested for some serious shit. "All finished, Mr. P," he says as he places all of the sealed samples in a large envelope making another seal.
"Thank you, Juan. That'll be all for now." He walks back to his desk and picks up the envelope. He seems to be examining it, but then hands it back to him before he turns to leave the office. "Make it a stat case," he barks out causing him to pick up his pace.
Big Sanchez stands from the chair beside me and I do the same. "I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice. We'll be in touch, I presume?" Their eyes lock for a moment before he responds.
"As always, Sanchez. You'll be hearing from me soon." As if on cue, he turns and leads me in the direction that we came when we arrived. This has been the strangest day, but for the first time since I woke up in the hospital bed four months ago I have a little bit of hope.
I may never get my memory back and that's something I can accept if I have a sense of belonging. I can't deny that I haven't been blessed with a great adoptive family, but there is something about knowing where you're supposed to be that fulfills you. That's something that you can't replace once lost. I may not have my original memory anymore, but my soul tells me there is a woman that is grieving my absence; my only true mate. It doesn't take memory to know when your soul is trying to lead you. Maybe I just need to learn to listen and let it guide me instead of trying to force my brain to remember. It did get me here.
Now, I must wait...
Chapter 18
Kinzleigh
I wake up to the same boring routine every day. It's getting old. It's almost July. I've been here almost two months now and it isn't any easier than it was when I first arrived. I still cry at some point on a daily basis, but mostly when Preston is at work. I think it's the loneliness of being in this massive house all day by myself. Preston refuses to let me try and find a job. He uses the excuse that no one is going to hire a pregnant eighteen year old, but I know he is just trying to protect me. It makes me feel like a child.
The first week was okay, because I kept busy with all the people coming in to decorate and remodel parts of the house. Preston refuses to let me go in one of the rooms until it's finished. Everything was my choice except his little pet project. Tonight is the night. We are going to dinner and then he's unveiling his big surprise. I have no idea what is so spectacular that I can't see it until it's finished.
I called my parents after I arrived to tell them the news. They weren't even that upset that I wanted to get away, just that I felt the need to run away to do it. Maybe I did coward away, but no one will ever understand. They came to see me for the weekend and had a talk with Preston. I think deep down mom is beyond thrilled, but trying not to show it. As long as someone's happy...
I called Adalynn and she was nothing short of angry. I didn't know she could use the words that came flying out of that sweet mouth. I tried to explain, really I did, but it was easier to take off and not have to say goodbye, and that’s just something she will have to take my word on. The last time I tried goodbye it didn’t have a good ending. She ended up crying and said that she would fly out to see me when the baby was born. I think her and Braxton are getting ready to leave for college in August. I'm happy for them. They found happiness in each other; a happiness that I used to have.
Staring at the ceiling like I do every morning a hand begins rubbing my growing belly. "How's my two favorite people," he asks in a raspy voice. Turning my head to the side to look at originating point of the sound, Preston is propped up on his elbow with a sleep-ridden smirk on his face. It's early; barely light outside, but I can't sleep. I can never sleep and sleep was something that always came so easy for me before, so I usually lay in our big king size bed and get lost in my thoughts until he wakes up.
I can't help but to smile a little. Bryce isn't even his child, but no matter what Preston always includes him as if he is. "We're good, just a little hungry. Do you want me to cook you breakfast before work?"
He wraps his arm around me, grabs my hip and pulls me toward him as he lays flat on his back. Knowing what he wants I throw my leg over him in a straddling position. He loves this and I have no idea why. I feel like a fat cow this way. "It's Saturday, Kinz. I told you I am not working on the weekend. They will be fine without me. That's my time with you; family time."
He trails his fingertips up the path that is my back and wraps his hands in my hair, pulling me down to his lips. He knows what kissing does to me. It's getting harder and harder to say no. We hook up, but I can't bring myself to have sex with him as long as I'm carrying Breyson's child. The idea makes me sick even though the hormones are driving me crazy and I want to badly. I might as well enjoy my life somehow. I already know I'll never experience sex like I had with Breyson again, so I might as well experience it casually with the next best thing: my best friend.
His lips touch mine softly, but I need more. He's always trying to be gentle with me. I need him to stop being so damn caring all the time and kiss me like we're dying every once in a while. I break the kiss in frustration. "What's wrong?"
"Preston, I need you to be rough with me sometimes. I'm not a glass doll. I won't break, dammit. Can you stop being so sensitive all the time? Please..." I'm so mad I could cry. I hate being pregnant. My emotions are everywhere. Maybe it’s mostly because Breyson was always the perfect balance of everything. He was soft when he needed to be soft and rough when I wanted it rough. He was completely freaking…perfect.
Preston sits up and looks down at me. I'm staring into his chest, ashamed, until he tugs roughly on the locks of my hair turning my face upward to look at his. "You want it rough?" Maybe it’s weird that I like rough sex. I really wouldn’t know. I have never been open about discussing sex with my friends, because I never had anything to input to give; I wasn’t experiencing it. I was always the goody-two-shoes in everyone’s eyes. That could be the reason I have developed the like for it, to feel naughty.
His voice takes on a sexy, harsh tone and I think I just wet my panties. Closing my eyes I nod my head. "Look at me." I open them on command. "You don't have to be scared to tell me what you want, Kinzleigh. I just thought you liked things slow. I had no idea you were into anything else. This relationship is about give and take. It's my job to provide for you and make you happy. That happiness i
ncludes in the bedroom. I've wanted you for a long time. I sure as hell am not going to lose you now that I have you."
He crushes his lips to mine so hard it hurts a little, but I welcome it. I can't do anything slow and soft anymore. Making love was something I experienced with Breyson; it was our thing, and it ended by someone else’s hands and not our own. I can’t move on from him that way. Making love reminds me too much of Breyson. I need to limit myself to the familiarities of him if I'm going to have a chance at a somewhat happy life.
My body becomes heated at the close contact. His tongue reaches for mine, searching to taste me. I allow it. This is what I need. He grabs the hem of his tee shirt I'm wearing and pulls it over my head. He breaks the kiss just before it comes off. “I love seeing my clothes on you.” His eyes sweep over my body. First my enlarged breasts, then my round stomach, and lastly, down as far as he can see. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
He hardens beneath me and the feel of the tip touching my entrance sends a shockwave through my body. It stands freely, because he's only wearing thin boxers and I’m not putting any of my weight on him. I allow it to enter as far as it will go with the fabric between us. It feels so good. Placing my breast between his lips, he flicks the tip of his tongue over my sensitized nipple.
He runs his hand, palm side down, underneath the front of my panties and begins rubbing his thumb through the wetness that has occurred, spreading it over my clit, lubricating it. He rubs it back and forth in a way he has learned I'll get off. It doesn't take long and I do. It never takes long, because I'm always sexually frustrated and constantly needing more.
Placing his thumb between his lips, he sucks my cum from it. "Do you want to fuck," he asks. I can sense my cheeks igniting as the filth of the word is blown through his lips.
I wish I was strong enough to not even consider saying yes, but I'm not. The thought of going through with it crosses my mind each time he asks. Sometimes I think, maybe it's the key I need to fully moving on. Breyson is the only man I've ever had sex with. Maybe I can dull my attachment to him if I just break that bond.
I look into his eyes as I battle with my own mind. Should I? Should I not? Will it really hurt anything?
Each time I think I can be strong and go through with it; make a decision. Like it does every time I sit in this predicament, I start to think of the last time I was with Breyson in my room on my bed and I begin to falter. "I can't, Preston. I want to, but it'll have to wait until after Bryce is born."
I'm starting to wonder if it will be any easier then. His face falls a little from the excitement that I'm sure was building by my hesitation, but being the man that he is he hides it. The man has the patience of a saint, making me feel extremely guilty. I look down, now unable to look him in the eyes, but he takes my chin between his thumb and index finger, raising it to look at him. "Kinzleigh, you should know by now that I'm not just in this for sex. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to have you that way, but for me it's more than that. I can wait. I'll always wait for you."
He reaches over to the bedside table beside him and opens the wooden drawer. I start to move off of his body when he grabs my hip in the opposite hand, holding me still. Feeling around inside the contents of the drawer he pulls something out, but I can't make out what it is. I never go in his drawer, but I don't think there is much in there, nothing important anyway.
I don't think anything of it when he looks me in the eyes. Whatever it is he has covered with his fist. Preston is a talker. He always has been, or at least with me he has. "Kinzleigh, I was going to wait until tonight to bring this up, but given the type of person you are this is probably the best."
My eyebrows wrinkle verifying the state of confusion that I'm now in. "What is it, Preston? Is something wrong?"
He begins shaking his head as he sits up, with me still straddling his lap. "I wanted to take you out tonight, because I had a few surprises for you; all of them merely to signify our future together. I guess that now is as good as any to tell you. You never have been the kind of girl that likes surprises."
He takes a moment of silence. Why does he look nervous? Preston isn't a nervous guy. He gets what he wants and has never had to be that way. "Kinzleigh, you realize how much I love you, right?"
Awkward...
"Yes, Preston. I think I get the gist of it. Why? Should I be worried?"
"No. Shit. This isn't how I planned this. Just hear me out, okay? Don't say anything until I'm finished. Please..."
I sarcastically hold up my hands in surrender. "Fine. Whatever it is, just tell me."
"I know we've only technically been a couple for a couple of months, but you know it's just an added step to what we've always been. You know everything about me and I know everything about you. There are no surprises, no secrets; the two of us have always been an open book to each other. I know you've had a rough year; I get it. I know that I'll never replace what you lost, but I also know that you're a strong woman. You're the strongest one I know. I've never lied to you, Kinzleigh. I'll always support you in anything: a career, an education, and a family. A relationship doesn't have to be viewed in the cynical way you use to view it. It's a partnership, a friendship, and a compromise. I've never been in a relationship before you and for good reason. I never liked the idea of giving someone else something that I wanted to be yours: my heart. Nothing has to change from what it's been. If you want to go to school in the fall, it's yours. If you want a career in cheerleading, consider it done. I want to give you the world, Kinzleigh. I just want to give it to you in exchange for one thing."
I don't know if I like the sound of this conversation. We don't get deep very often, because I just don't have it in me to have to think deeply anymore. With Breyson I gave it all I had: mind, body, heart, and soul. I just want to live my life free from making decisions or having to think of what I want. I want to be a follower. Being a self-sufficient leader or dream seeker is no longer a necessity. That part of my life is nothing but a vapor in the wind. "What are you asking?"
He opens the fist of his hand and my eyes go wide. I feel like I can't breathe, like I'm being strangled by an invisible set of hands. Am I ready for this? Can I even go through with it? "Marry me, Kinzleigh..."
My ears start ringing and my vision becomes distant and blurred. I feel like I'm sitting on a spinning merry go round watching the world speed by. A year ago this was worse than death to me, the ultimate life altering worst-case scenario. Then, Breyson came along and shook my world up, down and all around. He made me see the good in falling in love; made me accept it and even want it. When I heard those words I wanted it to be from his mouth. I wanted to wear his ring. I wanted to mark myself as his forever.
The dream I had that week in California last year resurfaces. We were married...We were happy. Fate can be a hellacious thing. Sometimes, I think it's the work of the devil himself, tampering with the good in the world. My throat is dry and my heart feels like it's about to beat out of my chest.
It's time to grow up. I've grown a lot of the last year, some for the better and some for the worst. There is one thing that I've learned: I'm cursed. Bad things happen to people that I freely love, under no conditions. Having this knowledge could be the best thing that's ever happened to me, or the worst. There is one thing I know for sure. I can control how much I allow myself to love Preston. That's the best part of knowing. I can protect him from getting hurt. Even if Breyson had come back, I would have had to let him go. That's the worst part. It was a promise I made that day at Beau's grave and promises are always collected in due time.
You see, Breyson and me loved each other too hard; too much. Our love for each other blinded us; making it impossible to steer clear of the curve balls that fate throws at us. That kind of love gets you killed, because you aren't looking for it. It’s no different than stumbling upon a snake buried in the tall grass. Everything is being seen through rose-colored glasses, a constant state of bliss and perfection. If you would have see
the world for the reality that was to begin with you could watch where you walk and avoid some of the fireballs that gets thrown your way.
Loving Breyson was the worst and the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's the worst thing, because it's the reason for his death and it's the best thing, because it made me a better person. As overwhelming as this is, life isn't about me anymore; it's about Bryce. I'm not a child anymore. I can't live on the whim of living off hopes and dreams, to cheer and travel. I can't have a career and cheer for the NFL with a baby. A baby has needs, both financial and emotional. A baby needs a family, both a mother and a father. Breyson would want Bryce taken care of.
Fuck fate...I'm writing my own.
"Okay, Preston. I'll marry you..."
Chapter 19
Kinzleigh
I stand here at the bathroom counter staring at the reflection of the large round diamond on my left ring finger. It had to have cost a small fortune. "That ballsy twat! He actually went through with it? You said yes! What the hell, Kinzleigh? You can't even call your best friend after you accept a marriage proposal? I don't know if I should be thankful you said yes to the lucky sap or be offended that I wasn't on your speed dial."
I glance upward at the mirror. The sight behind me makes me smile. Presley...standing in all her goddess glory. The girl is hot. I don't know what my idiotic brother was thinking.
"Maybe I should be offended that I've been back in California for months and this is the first time I've been graced with your presence," I quip back in sarcasm.
"Well I guess you got me there. Calling it even?"
I always loved her bargaining mechanisms. Somehow, she makes it that nothing is ever one hundred percent her fault. It's either not or only fifty, no matter what the scenario.
"Depends...what'd you bring me back from Italy?" I'm still not sure what happened between Presley and my brother over New Years, but whatever it was, wasn't good. I've never seen Presley as upset as she was when she left my house. Konnor left early to go back to school and was gone before Presley was. I've wanted to ask, but then the accident happened and I've been a zombie since.
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