by Ava Lohan
“What are you doing in here?”
There, right in front of me, was Kegan. His voice cut through the air like a razor-sharp blade. I had the feeling it had gone through me as well, slicing me in two. He’d stepped out from around the corner. I wasn’t as alone as I’d thought. I stood there with the picture in my hands. I felt like I’d been caught stealing; I wanted to run away in shame. I picked up the clothespin and hung the picture where it belonged. So much for exploring Kegan’s past.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I stammered.
Kegan was standing right in front of me, peering down at my face, making me feel even more uneasy. “I told you not to come in here. Why the fuck is that so hard for you?” He could hardly control his anger. Was it the pictures? That I dared touch one? I looked at him with horror on my face. “How long have you been in here?”
“I… I…”
“How long?”
This strange interrogation made me lose my temper. “I don’t know! I’ll time myself next time!”
He didn’t smile at my attempt at humor. “Oh, there won’t be a next time.”
I didn’t appreciate his tone. “What’s your problem?” I hit back. “Are you mad that I looked at some pictures? Your old Legos?”
He looked at me from under a furrowed brow, waiting for me to answer his question.
I snorted and tried to kick something nearby. What the hell did I have to explain? I turned around to leave the room but he grabbed me by the shirt and stopped me in my tracks.
“Rose, how long?”
I hated it when he used that threatening tone. “Fine! Just, like, a few minutes,” I replied, irritated.
He loosened his grip on my shirt and I wriggled away. I straightened my top and turned to glare at him. Kegan still didn’t seem satisfied. He took a deep breath as if he were collecting his thoughts or deciding what to ask me next.
I decided to start talking before he could say anything I didn’t want to hear. “I was hungry. I was going to the kitchen but the door was open. So, I came in. End of story.”
“Shit. I was so stupid. I should’ve closed it.” He looked like he was going to punch the picture frame, but then he grabbed his head and rested his forehead on the wall. I didn’t think my actions warranted this sort of reaction. Nothing bad had happened, but to him this was all a catastrophe. Seeing him like this made me want to remedy my invasion. I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. Kegan stiffened up. He was so tense I was worried he might shatter into a million pieces.
“I took one picture off the wall…” my voice trailed off. I froze. I wanted to look around the room to see if there was something that could possibly explain his reaction, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Kegan walked away from the wall and looked at me, his eyes blazing with rage. Mixed, perhaps, with a bit of worry. He distanced himself from me. He didn’t know which way to look, whether to stay focused on me, like I was some sort of criminal trying to escape from him, or to scan the room. It was like he was looking around for something that could reveal a dirty secret. Or maybe he was trying to throw me out of the room using only his mind. He took a deep breath and decided to keep his eyes on me. “What did you see, besides the pictures?” he asked, his voice emotionless. The look on his face gave me chills. “What did you see?” he repeated. Kegan once said that looking at me was painful, but now it was his gaze that hurt. He made me feel like I’d almost accidentally killed him.
I swallowed. “Your pictures.”
“And?”
“And you. Now I see you.”
Like I had said some kind of magic spell, he relaxed. I saw the tension leave his muscles and face. His expression softened. He took a piece of my hair and twirled it between his fingers. “Sorry, I went overboard,” he admitted. “I just don’t want to lose you.” He took my hands in his and kissed my fingers. His eyes no longer looked at me with rage, but with adoration.
I, however, was still confused by his reaction and I couldn’t hide it.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, sounding sincere. He took the photo I had hung back on the wall and handed it to me. “I just want to protect what’s mine. And you’re mine.” He pulled my arms around his neck and lifted me by my thighs.
I wrapped my legs around his waist.
“Are you still hungry?” he asked, carrying me away.
“Yeah,” I admitted. The smile on his face made me smile back.
“Me too,” he said, kissing me, letting me know that he wasn’t just hungry for food.
I just want to protect what’s mine.
He closed the door behind us. Maybe he was just protective over his things, over his lost childhood. Kegan must have had a morbid attachment to his old playthings, all that he had left. That room was his refuge. A secret place to look at old pictures and toys. And remember. This is what I wanted to believe, but I just couldn’t. I’d seen the fear in his eyes: he was afraid I would find something. And he’d insisted on having me list the things I’d seen.
Without taking his lips off me for one second, he set me down on the kitchen table. He ran his tongue over the top of my ear. “First, I’m going to feed you. Then I’m going to fuck you.” His words lit a fire between my legs.
And you’re mine.
Kegan wanted to protect me from something, and I was going to find out what he was trying to hide.
“Do you want to go to Manhattan tomorrow?”
He brushed my hair behind my ear and kissed my shoulder. His fingers ran down my back, melting my skin underneath their touch. It had been two and a half months since Kegan had asked me to stay.
I sighed and propped my head up on my elbow to get a better look at him. “I don’t think I’m ready.”
I’d stopped counting all the times I’d tried to go to the flower shop that Jenna worked at. I would mentally psych myself up and tell myself that I could do it, just to chicken out steps away from the door. Once, I hadn’t even gotten out of the car.
“We’ll find out tomorrow.”
I made a face. “I don’t think anything is going to change from five days ago.”
Kegan had gone with me every time, and despite the fact that I’d never had the courage to enter the shop, we had always found something else to do in the city. And it was lovely. Walking down the street hand in hand, shopping, visiting museums, taking pictures, or kissing on the street like teenagers: all things I’d never done before that helped me forget the difficulty I’d had facing Jenna. Until my mind went back to her. Kegan still had his childhood toys—mine had all been donated to charity over the years by my mother. All I had from my past was Jenna and the things in my suitcase. Maybe I should have just given up, as I had intended, but Kegan’s note had changed everything. It had made me realize that I wanted to try again, at least once. Now she was in the same state, closer than I could have ever imagined. I would get the courage to walk through that door, to tell her about my life, to ask her about herself, to tell her about Kegan. I knew I could do it, I just didn’t know when. I wasn’t going to give up.
“Maybe it will,” he said, running his fingers just below my breast. His hands went lower and lower, his eyes burning with lust. He looked at me like he had just an hour earlier, before our last sex session. He placed his mouth on mine, exploding into a passionate kiss.
“You should… get ready… to go,” I said between swirls of our tongues. I wanted him to stay, but I knew he couldn’t. Today was Finn’s birthday, and it was a boys’ night out.
“We’ll continue this later,” Kegan said as he stood up and left me naked on the carpet, the blue lights of the aquarium reflecting all around me.
I stayed there, staring at the fish until I could hear him getting in the shower.
I shot up and ran to our room, my heart racing. The shower was blasting at full force and the bathroom door was closed. Kegan would never hear me. He would never have noticed what I was about to do anyway—I’d already done it a few times over the
previous two weeks. I was looking for the code to his secret room. His wallet was on the bed, I went to look through it first. Money, his driver’s license, keycards… no sign of a code anywhere. Just like last time. I’d looked for that damn code every time he’d left his wallet laying around, hoping to find it on a piece of paper, a picture or even a note card. But my detective work never paid off. I put everything back and left the wallet exactly as he’d left it. I was almost entirely certain the code was on his phone. But Kegan never left that unattended. And at night he turned it off. His phone was password protected as well, and I didn’t know the code to that, either. There had to be another place where he kept those numbers. Or, I at least hoped there was.
I started walking around the room in hopes that a new idea would pop into my mind. The shower was still running in the bathroom. I shook my head and looked around the room. I had already searched the room bit by bit every time Kegan had gone downstairs to take care of business. He had stopped selling himself, but he still had to manage Lust and keep the money pouring in. Not once had I found a trace of anything that even vaguely hinted at the code. Maybe it was time to give up and just pretend the door didn’t exist. There were just pictures and games in there anyway—or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. But a part of me wanted to keep trying. And I couldn’t forget the look on his face when he’d surprised me in there. I couldn’t forget his angry reaction, the panic in his eyes, or the agitation in his voice. The truth was that I could tell myself all the lies I wanted, but Kegan’s reaction couldn’t have been about his childhood memories. I wandered around the house, stopping right in front of the forbidden door.
Every time I’d brought it up, Kegan’s mood instantly changed and he became someone else. He was always annoyed by my questions about what was behind that door. By my requests to see the photos. He had given me one of them, and—in his mind—that should have been enough. But it wasn’t. And if he didn’t try to distract me with sex, he would just tell me there was nothing that would interest me in there. The same words he'd used the time he caught me in there.
If there really wasn’t anything important in that room, why couldn’t he just let me have a look and get over it?
Why ask how long I’d been in there and what I’d seen?
Before that night, I’d looked for the code a few times, sure, but it was more of a personal challenge. A treasure hunt. For these past two weeks, he’d made that room my obsession.
I touched the door.
I didn’t want there to be any secrets between us. I refused to live much longer with the doubts about what I might find in there, besides what I’d already managed to see.
I could no longer hear the water from the shower, and quickly walked away from the door.
Kegan was now in his bedroom getting dressed. I stopped in front of the aquarium.
I could hear his footsteps coming toward me. I pretended to be enjoying the fish, but my mind was on the door. Still. “Damn it,” I said, going to the bathroom.
I needed a shower. I needed some time to think about how I was going to get in. As soon as I’d heard about Finn’s party, I knew it would be the perfect opportunity. Kegan wouldn’t usually go out at night without me. And if he went downstairs to check on business, I never knew how long he’d be. It could take minutes or hours. I couldn’t risk snooping around, knowing that he could come home at any minute and find me looking for the code. This was the opportunity I’d been waiting for. While Kegan was out with Finn and the other guys, hitting the Long Island clubs, I would find a way to open that door.
I turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm up.
Lexi didn’t know anything about the room. But Finn knew, because when I’d asked him about it, he’d just frowned and told me to ignore it. That had only made me want to know even more. He wouldn’t talk to me about it, just like Kegan. Both just froze when I mentioned it. It was a taboo subject. I didn’t have a lot of options: either get to Kegan’s cell phone before he left for the night, or turn the whole house upside down.
Unfortunately, the first was impossible. He was practically glued to his phone. Then I heard it. A vibration. The vibration of a phone. But it wasn’t mine. I gasped. Kegan had left his phone in the bathroom. It was on the sink, right under the mirror. And it just kept vibrating. I leaped out of the shower to lock the bathroom door. With my heart in my throat I grabbed his phone. It was too easy. It was a sign. I couldn’t believe it. I kissed my crucifix and thanked the Lord for this gift.
A knock on the door made me jump and almost drop the phone. I nearly had a heart attack.
“Rose?” Kegan called out, but the shower was still on and I just ignored him.
I looked through his contacts, more agitated than ever, as Kegan continued calling me from the other side of the bathroom door. He said he had to come in for a minute, that he was going to be late. He seemed calm. Like he didn’t suspect a thing. I didn’t take my eyes off the screen for a minute. The phone shook in my hands as I scrolled, looking for the code hidden in his contacts list. And there it was. I found it. I cheered silently. 240900. I kept repeating it over and over again as I put the phone where Kegan had left it and stepped back into the shower. This was really the night.
Kegan called my name again, this time raising his voice. Two. Four. Zero. Nine. Zero. Zero. I stepped out again, put my robe on, and opened the door, smiling at him as I repeated the number in my head.
He gave me a confused look. “Why’d you lock the door?” He leaned forward. I could feel his breath on my cheek. Two. Four.
I was going to need all of my lying skills. Zero. Nine. “I didn't want to tempt you,” I managed to say in a confident voice. Zero. Zero.
He raised his eyebrows skeptically but didn’t comment. Just then, his phone vibrated again. “Shit, I’m late.” He picked up the phone and answered the call. “Yeah, I’m coming. I almost forgot my phone.” He glanced at me and then looked himself over in the mirror.
The numbers floated through my mind like a song. I pretended nothing was happening. I repeated the numbers over and over. I grabbed a comb and started working on my knotted hair. It hurt like a bitch without having used conditioner, but I had to pretend I’d taken a regular shower or he would’ve suspected something.
Kegan came toward me. He was dressed in black from head to toe; he looked amazing. I looked at him adoringly. He had taken over my body and mind. Kegan was my obsession, both when he was standing right in front of me and when we were apart. If I wasn’t having sex with him or kissing him, I was fantasizing about him. I prayed I would feel his hands and mouth on me soon. I was doing it now. I was his, completely. It could never change. Nothing I could possibly discover about him would ever change a thing.
He caressed my cheek sensually. “I want you to be awake when I come back.”
I was tempted to forget my plans and pull him into the shower. He too seemed like he was about to tear my bathrobe off. No, the numbers. Two. Four… He approached me again; his cologne made me dizzy. Zero.
I held my breath.
If there had been no door to obsess over, I would have never let him leave that night. The idea of other women’s eyes on him drove me crazy. And there would be so many people looking at him that night, even outside the walls of Lust. It was a Saturday night, and the clubs would be full of horny girls. I had to stop thinking about it or I risked imploding.
“God, I just want to lick you,” I confessed. I bit my lip hard to resist tearing off his clothes.
The numbers. My brain was concentrating on the numbers, but Kegan was confusing me. The last part; I couldn’t remember the last part. An alarm went off in my head—he had to leave or I would forget everything, except his body. I mentally repeated the numbers to myself and let them scroll in my mind, all six of them, as his fingers slipped under my robe to play with my rock-hard nipples. I had to swallow a moan.
“Wait for me,” he said.
I stopped him before he could walk past
me. “I love you,” I said. That too would never change. I studied his reaction to my words.
He was torn, as usual. He tried to avoid making eye contact. Kegan never said he loved me, even if his behavior made it more than clear. But I was dying to hear those three words. To hear them in his voice. To know what it felt like to hear him say it. But he didn’t.
“I’m happy,” I added, praying he could at least say that he was happy too.
But he didn’t.
A wave of sadness crashed down over my hope. I couldn’t believe that he was still convinced he could never be happy. These two and a half months had been perfect, and our future would be too. Yet, Kegan never said he was happy. I’d told him that I was so often, but he’d never reciprocated. Each time it had felt like a stab to the heart, but I was a masochist. I just couldn’t stop. I would never give up. I would just keep trying, day after day. I tried not to explode.
“I’m happy and—” I stopped, swallowed, and tried again, this time with a steady voice, without showing him how much his silence had shaken me. “I’m happy and this thing between us is right.” I grabbed his hands. A silent request. I pleaded with my eyes. I prayed to God he could respond to at least one of my statements. “You could at least admit that.”
“Rose…” His phone started vibrating in his pocket. “I have to go.”