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The Risen (Book 1): Dawning

Page 31

by Marie F. Crow


  “American by birth. Rebel by choice.”

  “O.K., I don’t even know where you are pulling from now, but you are starting to scare me.”

  “Between love and madness lies Obsession.”

  “Really, white flag.”

  “Outwit. Outplay. Outlast.”

  “I will seriously hit you…”

  “Let your fingers do the walking.”

  “You win. I bow to your knowledge. I am not worthy.”

  “I’m loving it.”

  We both stare at the other, waiting for the next round. It does not come. Our laughter does though. It fills the common area with its familiar sound, causing others to smile. I am not thinking about ghosts right now. Right now, I am just enjoying this minute.

  “Have your feelings changed for anyone since all of this?” I ask her as our laughter settles to giggles, and then silence.

  “Danger Will Robinson, danger.” Her body position changes with the implications of my question.

  “O.K, how about this, have you noticed any changes with anyone that you never thought of before?” Ever notice how a tree can look exactly like the North Star when it is not decorated? No?

  “Oh yes, well, when phrased like that, it is much more comfortable to be asked.” Aimes has found the tree also very interesting. Maybe we should just keep one here year round, for conversation’s sake.

  “You are not going to answer me are you?” I finally ask her after a long pause of tree watching.

  “That is a big negative, good buddy.” She smiles at me with her refusal. “Why are you asking anyway?”

  “Something Chapel said to me about Rhett has me thinking.” My answer snaps her head forward again. Her sudden panic tells me the little pixie knows something.

  “Have you talked to Lawless yet?” She asks me. Her voice is solid but holds a moment of worry. “I mean really talked to him?”

  “About what?” I watch her the way Chapel was watching me. I search for any hidden facial twitch to give me clues.

  “About your amazing slogan skills that totally rock the Casbah. What do you think about?” Her frustration over the situation shows in her voice, and it is my turn to answer her with silence.

  “You have to talk to him. Hells, you have to talk to someone. I know something horrible happened. You would never have left them behind otherwise.”

  Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree, how I stare at you so dedicatedly.

  “I am not saying you have to take him back. You don’t have to go back to Lawless Land if you don’t want to, but at least talk to him. He was the only one that could ever reach you. Not saying that I am not awesome or anything, but you two had this thing. You need that thing, Hells. You need that now more than ever. You tried to talk them out of killing one of those dead things today.”

  Aimes’ words pull a topic from me that I am not ready to debate yet. My words keep escaping like water through my fingers. I cannot hold on to them.

  “They are not dead. She said they are not dead.” I feel my chest flutter with the panic of the voiced truth, like a humming bird with its fast wings has taken home in it. It claws me internally, bringing hot tears to my face with the pain.

  “Helena?” Aimes is torn between pity and fear. I am supposed to be the strong one, the one of icy cold steel, and I sit now before her losing it with one sentence.

  “Don’t. Just don’t.” I tell her as much as I tell myself. I leave her sitting on the couch still staggering from my reaction. Everyone has their kryptonite. Mine just happens to be the ghosts of little children that stalk me with their blue eyes and the crimson coloring of my sins.

  My room is shielded from the sun and it seems colder today than normal. I hug myself, trying to hide my weakness.

  “Who’s arms are you craving right now?” Lawless’ voice drifts in from behind me.

  Silence is a wonderful thing when unsure of the truth. I employ it now, watching him walk from behind me into my room. He sits on the cot before me, waiting for my answer. He is wearing his mask, and that never bodes well.

  “Let me guess, you want to talk?” It is an easy guess with the theme so far of my afternoon.

  He shrugs with his whole body. One of his shoulders goes up countering the height of the other. His hands flip over to show me his palms. His lips frown for a moment with it before he returns to his placid calm. “Yeah, I do.”

  “I don’t.” I tell him, turning from him, to leave from where I thought I would be safe from so many questions. He is instantly in front of me shutting the door and blocking me from my escape.

  “You always do this. You always run. I’m tired, Helena. I can’t keep up with your running anymore.” He is leaning against the door with his back, securing it in place and securing me in the room.

  I guess we are going to talk. Yippe Skippie!

  “I didn’t ask you to.” My arms cross in front of me, preparing for the battle ahead. I am armed with sarcasm and deep glaring stares. Unfortunately, I do not think either of those will frighten him anymore. Where is Chapel’s gun when I need it?

  Lawless laughs. It is a laugh of ironic pain, not amusement with what I have said. “You’re right. You would never ask for my help. I am just supposed to give it, and if I don’t, how quickly you can hate, Hells.”

  “You push me away just as hard as you pull me close. I don’t know which way to turn, or what to say to you anymore. Every time I think I am getting close, you shove me away. At least with Leslie I knew where she stood.” He tells me with a smirk and I feel the poison sneaking onto my tongue.

  “Stand? That is impressive. I didn’t know she had that mode. I figured she just laid down for you, and that is why you so enjoyed her.” We are not going to talk. We are going to fight. There is no stopping our storm now.

  “Alright, yes, forgive me, but I did. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed every moment of it. I enjoyed her wanting me. I enjoyed her flirting with me. The way she wasn’t ashamed to let others see us together. She wants me.” He closes some of the gap between us with his anger. His voice sounds like thunder in this small room.

  “….and the sex?” The winds begin to pick up around us with my question. We are going graphic novel.

  “It was great. She couldn’t get enough. The way she screamed under me, it was perfect.” His voice clashes with the grin upon his face. I can feel the rain falling from his words.

  “You’re lying.” I hear my voice crack, stripping me of my courage to fight this fight.

  Venom fills his words as his anger takes him.

  “No, I’m not. I could walk out of this room right now, and find her. I could take her right where she stands. No questions asked. Not with you. Never with you. I could never suggest such a thing with you. No one gets a piece of Helena Hawthorn’s heart until she needs them and wants them.”

  His words become more agitated with each sentence. He is standing toe to toe with me now. His eyes are burning with his anger as he stares down at me.

  “..and then, when you are done, you are just gone. You fade away back behind this stone wall of yours. Keeping everyone out. Shoving everyone away. Keeping me out. Even though I know all of this, I stay. Knowing how each time would end between us. Knowing that when the sun comes up, you will be gone. When people are around us, you’ll be cold again. All of this I know, and I still can’t walk away from you.”

  He does his ironic laugh again. This time it is mixing more with the self-disgust for his actions rather than disgust for me. I watch him walk past me with his head heavy from his thoughts. He puts his back to me, trying to control his anger.

  “When you let me in though, Helena, when you let me see behind that wall of yours, I feel like I’m whole. When I used to hold you at night, I was whole. Your smile would bring me peace. Your laughter used to heal me from all the shit I’ve done. All the shit I have to do. My whole life was for those moments. Nothing in-between mattered. Just those moments for me when you would stare at me like I was some hero. Our momen
ts were everything to me.”

  “I’ve tried to find it with others. I’ve tried hard, so tired from your games. It was never there with them. They were just faces. Just guilt when I had to look at you afterward.”

  He sits back on the cot, and I am not sure if we are in the eye of our storm, or if it has blown over.

  “When you pulled that stunt at the Welcome Center, watching you in the middle of all of those things again, do you have any idea what that is like? I get it. You couldn’t just stand there and watch the attack. I get it, but they wouldn’t let me go to you. I had to stand by and watch as those things came for you. If you were killed, and worse, I would have had to watch. Did you ever think of me? For one moment, did you think what would happen to me if you didn’t survive? Were those strangers so much more important to you than me?”

  He is begging me for an answer to help him understand me, to understand us. I never saw it in that way. I never thought of my actions as wounding him or filling him with so many doubts of my feelings for him. In my efforts to save others, I have damned him.

  “Leslie was never supposed to go this far. I was just enjoying her attention. I knew it would upset you. I never meant for it to do this to us.” His guilt is covering him, shrinking him down with the weight of it.

  “It wasn’t just her. We are not here just because of her.” He turns his head with my words, his eyes focus on something further into the room, and away from me.

  “No, I guess not.” His eyes are staring at something only he can see. “I was so mad at Chapel for being the one to stand up against him. It should have been me. To see J.D.’s hands on you like that made me want to tear him apart. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I let him hurt you. I let him say those things to you. Not Chapel though. He stood right beside you, and I hate him for it. Not as much as I hate myself for being so weak.”

  He pauses, trying to collect himself. His foot begins to bounce with his anger.

  “Then Rhett. Rhett who has been with J.D. the longest was right beside you. Laughing with you the way we used to. The way he looks at you now. The way you look at him.” His whole body now vibrates from the force of his foot. “He actually asked me if I would mind. Like I wouldn’t mind.”

  “Now Marxx. Shit Marxx, the coldest bastard we have sits each morning with you. Just the two of you at that table, in your own little world, each morning. While I am still on the outside, waiting. I’m still waiting for you to want me again. Each glare from those eyes of yours cuts me deeper than I thought I could be cut. Your words, shit Hells, you know how to hurt.”

  He stares at the ground with his body shaking from his emotions. He is pulling down each brick for me to finally, really, see him. His mortar is loosening with each secret that he has kept from me that is spilling forth.

  “…and I started it all. I wanted to stop it so many times, but it was so far from my grasp. We just kept slipping further away with my anger, your anger, and my guilt until I didn’t know how to get us back. So, I stopped trying. I just let it all fall apart. I let it all fall down around me.”

  “I let us go Hells. Even as you stood there trying to hide the pain from me, I let it all go. When you stood there begging me with your eyes, I just threw it all away. I used Leslie as much as she used me. Each time I was with her, I lost more of myself. I lost more of us. I knew each time she screamed my name it was not who I wanted to hear it from.”

  “I thought if I lost enough, it wouldn’t hurt anymore to watch you slip away. It wouldn’t hurt so much to see you with that other group. It would stop hurting to have to watch you sitting with Dolph, right across from me, giving him your smile. I’m just lost now though, and it still hurts, Hells.”

  He is crumbling before me. He hides his face in his hands with his shame. Lawless is no longer vibrating, but rocking back and forth from his confessions. “Say something damn-it. Anything. If you have something to say, say it to me now. I don’t want to lose you to some bullshit. I can’t lose you.”

  He is forcing himself to stay in this moment. He is fighting to stay lost in his weakness before me, and I will not run, even as my body trembles with the urge to avoid this. We are so far from the path that we came here on that I do not know if I can retrace enough of our steps to fix us. I take the first step just the same.

  “I hated you the moment she touched you. The moment you let her touch you, and made me watch. I tried so hard to deny that you were sleeping with her. That you were able to just walk away so easily from me. You were my security. My strength. You were the only thing that I ever thought was mine. You held my heart and you just let me go. You didn’t just let me go. You watched me fall. You let me fall for your amusement.”

  “It should never have been Chapel beside me, you’re right. It should have been you. It should have been your arms I cried in at night. Your arms that hide me when I can’t do it anymore. It never is. You stand there with your blank face, watching me break, and you do nothing to stop it with your fear of upsetting J.D.”

  “You chose Leslie over me. You chose J.D. over me. You chose Aimes over me. You asked me did I ever stop to think of you. Did I ever wonder about what would happen to you? No, I didn’t. I thought no matter what was to happen, you would always be there with me. Always. You proved that all wrong though didn’t you? You proved me wrong each day with your smiles to her, your whispered words to her, and her touching you. What a big funny joke I was for you and J.D.”

  “Did J.D. give you a big pat on the back when you finished each time? Atta Boy Law, way to bang a ho! Do you want a round of applause for feeling gross for sticking your dick in her? A big hug reassuring you that it is only for you she screams? She is just as big of a slut as you are, and martyr really isn’t your color. “

  He nods his head with each word I shout at him, accepting my rage.

  “I’m not stupid. I knew about all those other times. White roses, just because? Right. You really wonder why I run? Why I don’t let you fully in? I’m tired of your running, too. Don’t blame me for doubts that you have caused.”

  I want to be angry. I want to scar him with poison tipped words. I want to see him hurt, but I cannot. My pain is too great from our separation. My anger died long ago. It is just empty pain now inside me with the memories of us. We have both scarred each other and been scarred by the other enough as it is.

  “You stopped fighting. You walked away. When I needed you the most, you stood right there and watched me fall. Now you want me to just walk right back into your arms after you left me all alone?”

  He looks up to me from behind his hands to let me see him. His face is wet from his tears that trace patterns along his dark amber coloring. I have never seen him so broken. It does not bring me the joy I hoped it would hold for me. He has always been so full of life, but now as he hangs with defeat, it speaks more to me than any words he has said.

  “It shouldn’t always be a fight. I shouldn’t have to always fight for you. Everything is falling down around us, Helena, but here I am still fighting for you to let me in, but I never left you.” He whispers the words, so weary from the truth of them.

  “I am here, every night, right beside you. I watch over you when you sleep. I whisper in your ear with your nightmares telling you that you are safe. Just sleep baby, you are safe.” His voice breaks with the words, and my heart skips in beat with it.

  I thought the sound of him at night beside me was a dream. I thought it was nothing more than my own loneliness that conjured the feel of his arms when the demons came to play in my dreams. He was here. Through all my bitter words, and poisoned acts, he was here. My Lighthouse was here to guide me to the dawn.

  “Everyday I ask Chapel about you. I ask him to keep you safe when I can’t. I watch you slowly give up on everything, but I am always standing right beside you if you need me. You were burning every bridge, but I never left you. I am still here. Hanging on. Even as you burn me. Even as you cut me. I am still here. Just as I promised you.”

  “
Then why do I feel so alone, Larance?” The sound of his name on my lips brings him to me instantly. He wraps me in the security blanket I have ached so desperately from with its loss.

  His lips tenderly touch mine, and he whispers to me. “Because that is how you want it. It is how you have always wanted it. Let me love you, Helena. Please, love me.”

  With his words, I no longer want to throw stones. This fragile glass house of ours cannot handle anymore blasts. Its walls are coated with so much of our mudslinging already that I can barely see the heart of it.

  I only want to calm this hurricane we have become. I want to calm the storm that howls around us with so many of these doubts and fears of ours. He refuses to look away from me, and I pray he sees just how much I need him now, even if I cannot say the words. We are both children forgotten. His embraces cannot make up for the ones I was denied so long ago, the missed embraces that laid the first bricks of mine, but I am going to let him try. I am going to let us try.

  Our kisses start out gentle and shy. We each wait for the others refusal or rejection. We test each others boundaries until there is none to be found, and finding none, passions are sparked as our bodies remember. The gentle touch of his lips builds into the caress of his tongue, before it penetrates my mouth with his eagerness.

  His mouth tastes the flesh of my neck, before it travels lower, exploring the spaces exposed by his fingers with the removal of my clothes. The small buttons of my shirt overcome his desires with their defiance at his hunger driven clumsiness. My fingers, which had been doing their own exploration of his body, take over the act for him. His eyes devour every inch I expose until I lie bare for them.

  The pause he takes to visually roam my body inflames me with the need for his touch, flushing my skin with my desires. He smiles a very male smile, expressing his enjoyment of my situation as he traces the curves of my sides with his palms. I arch for him with the feeling of his warm hands on me. He moans a male sound of appreciation with the sight before rewarding me with his mouth again.

  Circle upon circle, motion after motion, his mouth and tongue return to their previous task. He licks and samples with different speeds and urgency upon my breasts, my neck, and my shoulders. My leg is wrapped around him, and he cups my thigh, bracing it, allowing our hips to mock with the motions of our future acts.

 

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