Possessive

by Willow Winters

  “You never fail to remind me.”

  My phone vibrates with a message and I’m more than happy to end this call.

  “I’ve got to go.” My phone vibrates again. “I’ll update you when I can.” I don’t wait for him to acknowledge what I’ve said, let alone tell me goodbye. I’ve never been close to my brothers. Not like they are toward each other. I’m the black sheep, I suppose.

  I crack my neck as my phone vibrates for a third time. Before checking it I glance back at Addison only to see she’s gone, although her laptop is still there. My heart stills and my body tenses until I see her by the counter, ordering something else.

  Annoyance rises in me as I realize how much pull she has over me in this moment. I’ve turned back into what I hate. My teeth grit as I pull up my texts and that annoyance grows to an agitation that makes me grip the edge of the table to keep me from doing something stupid.

  Three messages, each from Jake.

  Marcus isn’t coming tonight. He said there are complications.

  I have your girl’s number though if you want it.

  And I think she’s coming here tonight.

  Jake wants to die. That’s the only explanation. He literally wants me to kill his ass.

  My glare moves from the cell phone in my hand back to the coffee shop across the street. Addison’s cardigan dangles loosely around her as she moves back to her spot. Her jeans are tight and I can just imagine how they’d feel against my hands as I ripped them off of her. It’d be difficult, but I would fucking love it.

  “Do you …” I hear a small, hesitant voice next to me and I have to school my expression before I can look back at the waitress.

  She’s an older woman, with soft lines around her eyes. A stray lock of dark hair with a line of silver running through it falls from her bun and into her face as she offers me a smile and holds up a pot of coffee. “You’re all out this time,” she says, like it’s a reason to have another.

  “Sure,” I say and smile politely as she fills the cup.

  The hot coffee steams and I stare at it as she leaves me be.

  So Addison is giving her number out.

  I wonder if she would have given it to me. I replay that scene in my head and instead of leaving, I slip in beside her.

  I don’t deserve Addison. That’s a given.

  But I’ll be damned if I let some asshole like Jake get his hands on her.

  Chapter 7

  Addison

  * * *

  It took three days to actually go through with it and go back to Iron Heart Brewery.

  Three days and this feeling in my gut that won’t leave.

  Three days of fiddling with images in Photoshop and hating each and every one because I can’t focus.

  And worst of all, three nights of not sleeping.

  Every night I keep dreaming of the bar and every time the scene ends differently. It starts out how I’d have liked for it to have gone. With him giving me the time of day. With him offering to get me a drink. But then it turns dark and wicked. Daniel grabs me. Or worse. I hear Tyler tell me to stay away.

  And I wake up shaken.

  I feel just like I did that winter I ran away.

  And I hate it. I hate Daniel even more for making it all come back. And if I can find that asshole I’m going to tell him exactly how he makes me feel. Not just the way he made me feel the other night, but also the way I felt all those years ago.

  Part of me wants to run. But I already did that. I can’t keep running forever.

  I open the heavy glass door to the bar with the buzz of the late traffic behind me. This is an old town, but on weekends everyone is out and about.

  I’m immediately hit with the aroma of pale ale lingering in the air and the chatter of everyone in here. The air outside was crisp, but only two steps in and the warmth lets me slip off my cardigan.

  “Addison,” Jake says my name from his place behind the bar. It carries over the hubbub and a man seated on a stool by him turns to look back at me.

  Jake’s smile is broad and welcoming as he gestures to an open seat at the bar.

  For a small moment I forget the churning in my gut. I think that’s what really happened these past couple of years. I slowly forgot. And if that isn’t a tragedy, I don’t know what is.

  “You alright?” Jake asks with his forehead creased and a frown on his lips.

  “Sorry,” I tell him and shake my head as I fold the cardigan over the barstool and then slip on top of it, resting my elbows on the bar. “Been a long few days.”

  “What’s bothering you?” he asks while passing a beer down the bar to an old man with salt and pepper hair and bushy eyebrows that are colored just the same.

  The man waves him a thanks without breaking his conversation. Something about a football game coming up.

  Letting out an easy sigh, I pull the hair away from my face and into a small ponytail although I don’t have a band, so it falls down my back as I talk. “Oh, you know. Just moving and getting settled.” I smile easily as I lie to him. “So, how’s it been going for you?”

  Even as I ask him I’m almost painfully aware of how I couldn’t care less. I’m eager for information and that’s all I want. I rest my chin in my hand and lean forward, pretending to give him my full attention even though my mind’s on all the questions on the tip of my tongue.

  How often does Daniel come here?

  Do you think he’ll be here tonight?

  Do you know where I can find him if he doesn’t come?

  Instead I smile and laugh politely when I’m supposed to; all the while Jake chitchats about the bar and points to the pictures on the wall. Occasionally he answers his phone and texts or gets someone a beer.

  Although it’s crowded and I’m having a real conversation for the first time since three nights ago, I’ve never felt more alone.

  “So we go around from place to place, collecting all of them we can find,” Jake wraps up something he said that I was only half listening to and then takes a seat on his side of the bar.

  “What’s really bothering you?” he asks and it catches me off guard. My simper slips, and my heart skips a beat.

  “What do you mean?” I ask him as if I haven’t got a clue and then quickly follow up with, “I’m just tired.” It sounds phony to my own ears, so I’m sure I sound like a bad liar to him too.

  “You seemed a little shaken the other night,” Jake says softly, leaning forward. Someone calls out his name and he barely acknowledges them, holding up his hand to tell them to wait. “Maybe you came in looking for something?” he asks me with his eyes narrowed.

  The playfulness is gone, as is the sound of all conversation in the busy bar. In its place is the rapid thumping of my heart.

  “Or someone?” he says as somebody else calls out his name again, breaking me from the moment. I turn to the man with the bushy eyebrows as Jake tells him, “One minute!” in not the most patient of tones.

  “So what is it?” he says and waits for me.

  “I didn’t come in here looking for anything or anyone.” I tell him the truth. My voice is small, pleading even.

  “But you found something,” he prompts.

  I only nod my head and he pushes off of the bar, standing up and making his way back to the draft beers to satisfy the old man’s order.

  “If you don’t want to see him again, you should leave now,” Jake speaks without looking at me and then smiles and jokes with the man at the end of the bar.

  “Why’s that?” I call after him, my voice raised so he can hear me and the bar top digging into my stomach as I lean over it to get a good view of him.

  Just as Jake opens his mouth to answer me, the door to the bar opens and I can feel the atmosphere change.

  No one else stops talking. No one else turns to look over their shoulder.

  But I do. I’m drawn to him and always have been. It’s like my body knows his. Like my soul was waiting for his.

  Daniel’s always had a
n intensity about him. There’s a dominance that lingers in the way he carries himself. A threat just barely contained. The rough stubble over his hard jaw begs me to run my hand against it. The black leather of his jacket is stretched over his shoulders.

  Thump … thump … my heart ticks along and then stops.

  Daniel’s dark eyes meet mine instantly. They swirl with an emotion I can’t place as they narrow, and I can’t breathe until he takes a step. We both hang there for what feels like forever. He must know I’ve come here for him.

  I watch as he moves, or rather stalks toward me. Each movement is careful, barely contained. Like it’s taking everything in him just to be near me. I know he wants to appear relaxed, but he’s faking it.

  And with another step toward me, I can finally tear my gaze away.

  I look forward, my back straight and my eyes on the beer in front of me as he walks behind me. I can hear each step and the scratch of the barstool on the floor directly to my left as he pulls it out.

  I remind myself I came here for him. No, not for him. To see him. To clear the air.

  I came here to this small town for me because I finally had my life together.

  And he ruined it. The memory of his cold reception and dismissal hurts more and more with each passing second. I’m not a little girl for him to shove aside anymore and treat like I’m some annoyance.

  The thought strengthens my resolve and I turn sharply to the left just as he takes his seat. He’s so close my breasts nearly brush his bicep and it forces the words to a grinding halt as I pull back.

  I’d forgotten what he smells like, a woody scent with a freshness to it. Like trees on the far edge of a forest by the water. I’d forgotten what it feels like to be this close to him.

  To be too close to what can ruin you is a disconcerting feeling.

  “Addison,” he says and although his voice is deep and masculine, in that smooth cadence my name sounds positively sinful. The irritation in his tone that was constant in my memory is absent.

  “Daniel.” I barely manage to get his name out and I clear my throat, slowly sitting back in my seat to grab the beer in front of me. “I was wondering if I’d find you here,” I admit and then peek up at him.

  A genuine grin grows slowly on his handsome face. I swear his teeth are perfectly white. It’s a crime for a man to look this good.

  “You came here looking for me?” he asks me with a cockiness that reminds me of a boy I once knew and again, for the second time, my confidence is shaken. As I lick my lower lip to respond, I fail to find the words.

  “Do I intimidate you, Addison?” he asks in a teasing voice and I roll my eyes and then lift the beer to my lips. I assume he’ll say something else as I drink, but he doesn’t.

  As I set the glass down, I look him in the eyes. “You know you do and I hate it.” There’s a heat between us that ignites in an instant. As if a drop of truth could set fire to us both. I can barely breathe looking into his dark eyes.

  “Do you now?” he asks again in that same playful tone. “So you came here looking for me because you hate me?”

  “Yes,” I answer him without hesitation, although it’s not quite truthful. That’s not why, but I’m fine with him thinking that.

  His brow raises slightly and he tilts his head as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. Slowly he corrects it, and I can feel his guard slowly climb up. It’s this thing he always did. It’s odd how I remember it so well. For only moments, only glimpses, I swear he let me in. But just like that it was gone, and a distance grew between us, even if we hadn’t moved an inch.

  “Don’t do that,” I tell him as soon as I sense it and his eyes narrow at me. “I don’t hate you. I hate that you were rude to me.”

  “I wasn’t rude.”

  “You were a dick.” My words come out with an edge that can’t be denied and I wish I could swallow them back down.

  “I’m sorry,” he tells me and he looks apprehensive. It’s weird hearing him say those words. I can’t think of him ever speaking them to anyone before. “You came looking for an apology?”

  “No, not really,” I tell him and shrug, wanting to take a step back from the tense air, but my ass is firmly planted on this stool. He turns to his left and I look back at the glass while I continue, just wanting to get it out of me before he’s gone again.

  “I just wanted to talk.” The words finally come out, although they’re not quite right. I want to spill every word that’s inside of me. From the last night I saw him all those years ago, to everything that’s happened up until this moment. There aren’t a lot of people who can relate to what we’ve gone through.

  He still hasn’t said a word. His gaze is focused on me as if he’s trying to read me, but can’t make out what’s written. If only he’d ask, I’d tell him. I don’t have time for games or secrets, and our history makes up too much of who I am to disrespect it with falsehoods.

  “Are you going to run off again?” I ask as he only stares back at me.

  “Do you want me to?” he asks me in return.

  “No,” I answer instantly and a little too loud. As if what he’d said was a threat. I’m quieter as I add, “I don’t want you to go.” The desperation in my voice is markedly apparent.

  “Well what do you want then?” he asks me and I know the answer. I want him. I take in a breath slowly, knowing the truth but also knowing I’d never confess it.

  “I haven’t been able to sleep since the other night,” I confess and my gaze flickers from the glass to his eyes. My nail taps on the glass again and again and the small tinkling persuades me to continue. “I had a rough time for a while, but I was doing really well until I saw you.” I don’t glance up to see how he reacts; I’m merely grateful the words are finally coming to me. “When you didn’t even bother to look at me, much less talk to me …” I swallow thickly and then throw back more of the beer.

  “It was a shock to see you.” Daniel says the words as if he’s testing them on his tongue. Like they aren’t the truth, although I’m sure they are. I look into his eyes as he says, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “What did you mean then?” I ask him without wasting a second.

  He hesitates again, careful to say just what he wants. “I didn’t know what to say, so I left.”

  “That seems reasonable.” Or at least that seems like the version of Daniel I remember. I take another sip of beer before I say, “It hurt though.”

  “I already said I was sorry.” His words are short, harsh even, but they don’t faze me.

  “I wasn’t looking for an apology. I only wanted you to know how you make me feel.”

  He responds quickly this time, still looking over my expression as if he’s not sure what to make of it. “And how do I make you feel now?”

  I swear his breathing comes in heavier, and it makes mine do the same. “Like I have someone to talk to.”

  That gets a huff of a laugh from him. A disbelieving one. “I’m sure you have better options for that.”

  I shake my head and answer before taking another sip, “You’d be wrong then.”

  It’s never felt pathetic before. The fact is I don’t talk to many people and the one friend I have is thousands of miles away. But admitting that to him and seeing the trace of the grin fall on his lips makes it feel slightly pitiful.

  I muster a small smile although it’s weak, and time grows between us. The seconds tick by and I know I’m losing him, but I can’t voice any of the things I’m feeling.

  “It’s been a while,” he says and I nod my head as I answer, “Since the funeral.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud and it’s the first mention of Tyler between us. The air turns tense but not in a way that’s uncomfortable. At least not for me. I even have the courage to look back at him. I can see hints of Tyler in Daniel. But Tyler was so young and he looked it. Still, there are small things.

  “You remind me of him, you know?” All while I speak, Daniel stares at my
lips. He doesn’t hide the fact in the least. I think he wants me to know. I swallow and his gaze moves to my throat, then he leans in just slightly before correcting himself. The hot air is tense and as he finally looks me in the eyes again, the noise of the bar disappears from the pure intensity of his stare.

  “You do the same for me, I think.”

  “You think?” I ask him to clarify.

  “You bring back certain things,” he says icily, so cold it sends a chill down my spine.

  My shoulders are tight as I straighten myself in the seat, again looking into the glass of beer that’s nearly gone as if it can save me. Or as if I can drown in it.

  It’s only the sound of him standing up that makes me look back toward him. “Are you leaving?” I ask him like an idiot and then feel like it.

  He only nods and I’m sure he’s going to walk off, but instead he steps closer to me. He shoves a piece of paper in front of me onto the bar and then grips the barstool I’m sitting on with both of his hands.

  He’s so close I can feel his heat as he whispers to me, “I’ll see you soon, Addison.”

  Chapter 8

  Daniel

  * * *

  Five years ago

  * * *

  The wind howls as it whips past us. We’re all dressed in black suits, but the shoes we spent all last night shining are buried beneath the pure white snow. The ice melts and seeps between the seams, letting the freezing cold sink into what was once warm. It’s fitting as we stare at the upturned dirt in front of us.

  We’re the last ones here. We stopped on our way back from the dinner since the sun has yet to set, and there’s still a bit of light left.

  The sky beyond us is blurred and the air brutally cold, the kind that makes my lungs hurt each time I try to breathe.

  One of my brothers cries. It’s a whimper at first but I don’t move to see who’s the weakest of us. My muscles coil at the thought, hating how I’ve judged. Hating how I view strength. I’m pathetic. I’m the weak one.