by Sienna Blake
“I don’t know when. He’s away a lot. On business.”
“I think you’re making excuses,” she sings.
I keep my mouth shut. Thankfully Dixie becomes focused when she starts pouring. The lady’s smart as hell, but for some reason, she simply can’t concentrate on two things at once.
“Now I know you don’t really drink,” she says. “But you absolutely cannot refuse a birthday shot. Your birthday shot.”
I sigh. It’s pointless to argue with her. I take the glass from her fingers and she squeals with glee.
“Here’s to you, honey. Happy birthday, however old you may be. May your days be filled with happiness and love, and your nights filled with lots and lots of hot sex!”
I laugh and we clink and we drink.
I taste a flare of dried fruit and a hint of cinnamon before the soft burning takes over on the way down. I make a face.
Dixie starts pouring another round, but I put my hand over my glass. No. Not more than one. She and I stare at each other for a second. She seems to understand. She nods and moves the bottle over the next glass.
I stare at the bottle and the glasses and at us sitting around this table performing a well-worm social ritual of friendship. My stomach tightens. Don’t get too attached to these people. Don’t do it. It’ll only make it harder when you have to leave.
“I should go home,” I say.
“Stay, honey. You don’t have to drink, but just stay and chat. You can just have water. Jeff, get her a glass of water.”
Jeff jumps to his feet and runs behind the bar.
“Thank you, but I should go.”
“But it’s your birthday celebration. Stay. Eat. Drink.”
I fight the urge to remind her that it isn’t my birthday.
Jeff returns with my water and places it in front of me with a flourish. He slings his arm around my shoulders. “Please stay?” he croons. “It won’t be the same without you.”
“But it’s getting late,” I say lamely.
Robert catches my eye. “I’ll walk you home when you’re ready to go. Don’t you worry about that. I’ll get you home safe no matter the hour.”
I stare back at the three pairs of pleading eyes staring at me. I know I shouldn’t say yes. I know I shouldn’t let my guard down and get close to them.
I’m usually comforted by feeling anonymous and cut off from the life that goes on around me. Tonight something tugs inside me. The warmth that these three people have bathed me in has reignited a long-forgotten want. I want friends. I want to feel like I matter. The only way I have this is when I am with Caden, but he isn’t here. And the bastard won’t even give me a way to contact him.
I’m selfish. So I give in and say yes, eliciting a round of cheers, and hope I won’t end up regretting it.
When I get home later I kick off my shoes and dump my bag on the bed. Carefully, I take out Jeff’s drawing of us. I smile. He really does have talent. I hope he gets the chance to do something with it.
I know I should throw it away. I can’t allow myself this attachment to this picture. Even small things can tie you to a place. When I put my hand to the paper to crumple it up, my fingers shake but they don’t close. I can’t do it.
I pick up the paper and open the top drawer by my bed. Inside are all the notes that Caden has ever sent to me as well as unopened greeting cards that I have collected for the poems written inside. Maybe I can keep it for a while. Just a while.
The next morning I find a letter in my mailbox on my way back from a quick trip to the corner store. A note? So soon after I just saw him? I’m so surprised, I tear it open as I climb the steps to my apartment.
Shaftesbury Hotel, Tonight 6pm, Suite 413.
I frown as I unlock my door, juggling the note, the empty envelope and the bottle of milk in my other hand. Tonight? He means for me to meet him tonight?
Inside my apartment the small radio I left on before I headed out is blaring the news, distracting me; a young girl was found murdered last night, shot in the forehead execution style. I flinch and rush to shut the radio off. No news. I can’t listen to the news.
I turn back to the note Caden left me. Usually the note arranges the meeting for several days later. He has never sent me a note to meet him that night. An odd feeling creeps over me. I push it away and try to just be happy that I get to see him so soon. I head off to have a shower and get ready for my lunch shift at work. But this uneasy feeling won’t wash off.
Later that evening I’m walking into the lobby of the Shaftesbury Hotel downtown. It’s one of those grand luxury hotel chains that made its name in the roaring eighties, their significance diminishing with the rise of the middle class and popularity of the boutique-style hotels. The lobby is grand and gilded in a way that seems almost dated now. Too much mahogany and gold everywhere. Still, the concierge is friendly when I enter the lobby, and he directs me towards the mirror-paneled lifts with a nod.
Suite 413 is on the fourth floor. The lift door opens onto a wide corridor paneled in more mahogany and trimmed with delicate Victorian light fittings. I knock on suite 413, an odd sense of nerves mingling with the usual rush of anticipation in my veins.
The door opens and Caden appears. The first thing I notice is the flash of relief across his face before he lunges for me. He grabs me and pulls me to him without saying a word. His mouth finds mine. His kiss is firm and intense and his tongue dips hungrily into me. It feels… desperate. Like this might be the last time we see each other and he is trying to suck every last drop of happiness that he can from my lips before it’s too late.
Oh God. Something isn’t right.
I pull away. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
I know he’s lying. He latches his mouth onto mine and silences me.
I’m pulled into the suite and the door slams behind me. Caden won’t tear his mouth from mine or his hands. His hands are everywhere and they are grabby and needy and frantic. All his usual composure – his control, his desire to draw things out – are gone. Left behind is just this… this raw need.
Before I can comprehend what is happening, my dress has been unzipped and yanked off me. He pushes me up against the wall hard. Almost too hard. He slams forward into me, trapping me. My breath is stolen from the force. He pushes his face into my neck, forcing my head to tilt back, and begins to bite and suck so hard that I can feel the flesh underneath his mouth bruising. He forces a hand in between my back and the wall, and my bra is stripped from me.
I push him back from my neck so I can see him. I notice his eyes. Undiluted and wild, he can barely hold my gaze. There’s a pleading, insistent begging. He needs this. Whatever has happened, he doesn’t need me interrogating him; he needs me to make it better.
He pulls the red silk tie I’ve only just noticed from around his neck. He crosses my hands over my head and begins to bind my forearms together. As he raises his arms I smell a hint of must and sweat. I study him closely as he binds me. What else have I missed?
I notice the bags under his eyes and the stubble across his jaw. He’s tired. He has barely slept. Perhaps he hasn’t slept at all. He definitely has gone a day or two without shaving. I want to kiss his face and his eyes and his jaw, but I don’t move. He looks so stern that I’m scared to show him this tenderness at this moment. My eyes lower. I notice his button-up shirt is wrinkled. His shirts are never wrinkled.
What has happened that he would go without sleep? And without time to shave or change his shirt or shower?
Cade breaks through my thoughts by pressing against me in a fierce kiss. I feel like I am melting between his hard body and the wall. His hands slip to my hips. In a single violent move, my underwear is torn from me. Before I can take another breath my eyes are covered by his large hand and everything goes dark.
I hear him unzip his pants. Almost instantly I feel Cade between my legs. His other hand grabs around my ass and he lifts one leg to spread me. He enters me in one swift push and starts to
move furiously inside me.
My body responds with a violent pleasure. My back thuds against the wall as he grinds into my hips. I can feel his breath coming hot and fast against my cheek. He has never been so rough with me and it scares me and thrills me at the same time. I can do nothing except let myself be taken.
Finally, he growls and shudders. He falls limp against me, crushing me against wall. I can barely breathe, but it feels so amazing. For once, I feel like I’m the one holding him up.
I can feel his chin resting on my shoulder, his heavy breath blowing hot air around my neck. His hand still covers my eyes, but it’s starting to slip so that I catch glimpses of light through his fingers.
“It’s okay, Caden,” I whisper. “Everything will be okay.”
He jerks back. He lowers my leg to the carpet then pulls away, leaving me with an aching sense of loss. His fingers leave my eyes and I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the light again. I hear a zip and I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t catch a glimpse of him.
He stays close, but he doesn’t hold me. He won’t look at me. He tugs at the binds until they loosen, turns his head from me and steps away. I move my forearms apart and the ties slide off.
Caden sits on the edge of the bed and pushes his face into his hands. I don’t have to see his features to know that he’s in pain. I can almost smell the guilt and remorse rolling off him.
What is going on? Are we breaking up? Is this goodbye?
I wrap my arms across my bare breasts. I feel so, so naked. I grab my discarded dress from the floor and wrap it around me like a towel. I’m terrified, but I have to know what’s happening.
I walk on shaky legs over to Caden and lower myself on the bed next to him. God, what do I say? I want to touch him, but will that make things worse?
He lifts his head from his hands and pierces me with his eyes. They are bloodshot from rubbing.
“I’m so sorry.” He sounds so sad and so, so sorry.
Oh God, he’s going to break my heart. This is it. The end. This is my punishment for breaking the rules the last time. He has decided he doesn’t trust me anymore. Each thought is a blade that stabs me in the belly.
“I…” he glances up, just catching the first tear that rolls down my face before I turn my head away. “Are you crying? Fuck.” In my periphery I see him reach out to touch my cheek but pauses before he does. He snatches his hand away and makes a grunting noise in his throat and rubs his face again instead. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“I can fix it,” I say turning back to him, “Just tell me what I’ve done.”
His head snaps up. “You? You haven’t done anything. I’m the one acting like a fucking animal.” His cheeks redden and he looks away. He’s embarrassed. “I can’t believe I just mauled you like that.”
It clicks. He’s upset over how he just acted. “It’s okay. I could tell that you needed it.”
His face twists in disgust. “I was so rough with you. God, the way I–”
“I liked it. Don’t get me wrong. I love it when you tease and take things slow, but I enjoyed that, too.”
As he studies me his eyes narrow. I can tell he’s looking for some sign that I’m lying to him. “But you didn’t come.”
I smile and test the waters by reaching out for his hand. I feel relief when his fingers curl around mine. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me. We have all night, don’t we?”
“You’re not angry at me?”
“Only if you don’t stop beating yourself up.”
I can see the moment that he starts to believe me. Slowly a smile stretches across his face. His eyes twinkle as they roam over my body, covered loosely by my dress held up across my breasts by one arm. “Conveniently, you are still very naked.”
His hands strip me of my modesty and push me back onto the bed. He searches for the silk ties, dropped on the carpet, before he joins me.
He spends the next few hours or so making it up to me. Afterwards, I’m so detached and floating that I barely connect with this Earth. I float up on a cloud of bliss, far away from anything and anyone who wishes me harm. I float, safe, with Caden as my tether.
When I come back to my senses, he has removed my blindfold and my binds and I find myself tucked back against his stomach and chest. I can feel the soft toweling of the bathrobe he wears. His arms wrap around me and his chin rests on my head. It feels so intimate, this kingdom of just him and me. I’m infused with the confidence that he needs me, too. I’m ready to tell him my secrets if he will tell me his.
“Caden, why were you so upset before?”
He tenses behind me. He brushes my arm and I can tell it’s an unconscious movement, like he’s trying to brush it off. “Could you forgive someone who has to do something bad in order to do something right?”
“You didn’t answer my quest–”
“Please, just answer me.”
I know that he’s talking about himself. He deserves an honest answer. I knew when I met Caden that he had secrets dark as night. I remember believing that he was worth saving even if he thought himself beyond redemption. I still believe that. I do.
“Yes, I could,” I say.
“Could you love that same person?”
I already do. “Yes.”
We both say nothing.
“Go use the shower first,” he says, breaking the thick silence. His voice sounds uncertain and distant and it echoes as he pushes me forward across the sheets away from him.
I don’t argue. The rejection stings, and I need some space. I’m losing hope that Caden will ever open up to me. For the first time ever I need to get away from him.
The shower pressure in the hotel is good. The hot water eases over my thoroughly-used body like warm fingers. I have been satisfied several times, but the combination of the trickling water and the knowledge that Cade is just a thin wall away from me has me squeezing my legs together to ease the ache beginning to build there again.
I hate this.
I want him so badly all the time. I feel like a helpless addict. I can’t live without Caden. I can’t. But… what satisfied me before, no longer satisfies. What I was prepared to accept before I can’t accept anymore.
I need more from him. From us.
This terrifies me. Because, if I ask for it, demand it like my heart wants to, I know he’ll walk away.
I stare up at this wall we have between us in our own version of togetherness. If I want to get over it I have to climb it.
I come out of the bathroom, dressed in a newly bought emerald silk singlet and shorts set. It is two shades darker than Caden’s eyes, and I want to see his eyes darken to this color when he sees me in it. He isn’t looking at me. He’s frowning at his phone.
“Is everything okay?”
“What? Oh, of course.”
It isn’t. He’s distracted.
He’s never distracted with me. My gaze burns on the phone and I stand motionless watching him as he presses a few more keys then slips the phone into the pocket of his bathrobe. He grabs his bag and clothes and phone before he brushes past me into the bathroom without even a glance at me.
My eyes widen as I spot his cream pants, forgotten, tucked among the blankets that are crumpled on the floor near the bed. He never leaves anything out here with me when he goes into the shower. Never. I’ve checked before, trying to find some sliver of his life that I could cling onto, something about him that he refuses to tell me. As soon as he locks the door I’m going for it. This is a chance for me to glimpse over this wall. A few more seconds and those pants are mine.
I feel him grab my waist, startling me – I hadn’t noticed him coming out of the bathroom. My heart lurches in my throat. Shit. He has remembered his pants. He saw me looking at them.
When I turn my head to look at him, he isn’t looking at his pants, he’s looking at me.
“I just need to tell you how beautiful you look.” He draws me in for a deep kiss that I feel all the way down to my toes
. Instantly I feel guilty for wanting to pry into his life. When he releases me, my head is floating. Caden smiles at me one more time before disappearing into the bathroom.
No, don’t do it. Leave it alone, I tell myself as I fall into bed.
Click.
I flinch as the door locks behind him. He locks it every time and won’t let me in. I tried to surprise him once by sneaking in on him in the shower, but the door was locked. It’s always locked. He always locks me out. The noise is like a switch that flicks off the guilt.
I deserve to know about him. He won’t let me in, but I need to know.
My gaze draws to the forgotten pair of pants twisted in the sheets on the floor. I look over to the bathroom door, biting my lip.
Do I dare? Or will he remember his pants and come back out to retrieve them? I listen intently for the noise coming from the bathroom to try to determine what he is doing and whether it is safe for me to go through his pockets.
I don’t dare to think what he would do if he found out I was trying to pry into his life. Not that I think he would hurt me. Caden would never, ever hurt me. But… would he let too long go between visits to punish me? Would he stop wanting me as much as he does? Would his messages stop?
These thoughts chill my bones. Just as strong in my body is the throbbing curiosity and need to know more about him.
I sit, my nerves ablaze for a few tentative minutes. When I hear the shower turn on I’m on my feet. I creep to the bathroom door. I hear the noises of water hitting skin and I know he has stepped into the shower. I have maybe two minutes if I’m lucky. I tiptoe to his pants, half hidden where they lay. My heart is thumping like a warning in my chest.
I draw the pants from the twist of blankets. I slip my hand into the first pocket. Nothing. Then the second. Again nothing. Maybe I won’t find anything here?
I slip my hands into a back pocket and my fingers find something hard and leather. I glance again at the bathroom – door still locked, shower still going – before I pull it out. It’s his wallet. I frown. This wallet is battered and the fake leather is peeling along the crease. This doesn’t look like a wallet that Caden would carry.