Shallow River

by H. D. Carlton

  How can anyone be unhappy when you have a home and parents like this?

  “So, River, Ryan told me that you’re graduating college this year. What did you major in?” Matt asks right before spooning a pile of broccoli in his mouth. Ryan rests his hand on my thigh and squeezes, as if warning me not to say the wrong thing.

  What a typical question. Why not ask me what my interests are? Where I grew up? What kind of person I am? How about the things that actually tell you about a person?

  I could be a crazy bitch. Maybe I am a crazy bitch. Wouldn’t that be important to know?

  I smile serenely. “Psychology.”

  What a typical answer.

  As if reading my mind, Ryan rolls his eyes. He never did approve of my career choice.

  Why don’t you want me to figure you out, sweet Ryan?

  “Why psychology?” Mako asks this time, sparing me a glance from his food. I shiver when his voice rolls over me. He hasn’t spoken to me since our introduction.

  Hmm. Because my mother did a lot of fucked up things when I was a child, and I’m desperate to understand why? No, can’t be that. Who would care to understand a crackhead? That’s all there is to her. Jagged, cracked pieces.

  I shrug a shoulder. “Because I’m good at figuring people out,” I answer blandly.

  “Ah, you found yourself a smart one, Ryan. Make sure you’re careful,” Matt teases, winking at Ryan as he does. Matt talks with his mouth full. Julie lightly admonishes him for doing so. He just grins at her in return.

  Something tells me not a lot bothers Matt. It makes me want to figure out what does.

  Ryan scoffs lowly. “I think I can handle her.”

  I think I can handle you too, baby.

  Dinner drags on. Every time I’m asked a question, Ryan squeezes my thigh, warning me to watch my mouth. I’m not sure what I could possibly say, but I’m beginning to feel discouraged. Do I embarrass him that much?

  By the time I shove the last piece of sinful apple pie in my mouth, I can feel a bruise forming. It’s almost enough to distract me from the pie, but I’m pretty sure we can get bombed by a terrorist right now, and I’d still ask for seconds. He’ll kiss the bruise for me later.

  “Do you need help cleaning up?” I ask Julie graciously. She smiles at me and accepts. Ryan taps my thigh twice in appreciation. I beam as giddiness floods my chest.

  I collect mine and Ryan’s plates first, my hands shaking at the prospect of breaking Julie’s fine china. With the kind of money that Matt and Julie make, this china probably costs more than my college tuition. If I break it, I’ll embarrass Ryan. He’d never forgive me for that.

  When I circle around to collect Mako’s plate, he gradually slides his gaze up to me. His eyes connect with mine, and I wish I hadn’t stuck around. Julie should’ve taken his dishes.

  I hold out an expectant hand, keeping a pleasant smile on my face. He takes his time, as if I’ll be standing here waiting for him no matter what. Ryan’s eyes sear into the side of my head, all previous appreciation gone.

  Now I’m mad. I worked hard for that.

  “Did your arm lose its motor function?” I ask with a bored tone when Mako just stares.

  The slightest curl tugs on his lush lips. Without looking away, he hands the plate over. I yank it out of his grip and rush away, china be damned. My heart is racing and my stomach is fluttering. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why. He hadn’t even spoken to me.

  “You okay?” Julie asks, noting the expression on my face. I’m not sure what it looks like, but I imagine I look flustered. Far more flustered than I should be when I just ate the best apple pie in North Carolina. Probably even the world.

  “Fine,” I smile, gently setting the plates in the soapy water Julie had prepared.

  “I’ll wash, you dry,” she says.

  How cliché. I smile, and listen, grabbing a dry towel and await the first plate. I don’t think washing dishes has ever been so stressful in my life.

  “So, how did you and my son meet?”

  I frown, a little surprised Ryan hadn’t already told her. I assumed Ryan had at least told her all about me.

  “School,” I supply, forcing the smile back on my face. “We were in the same American History class together. I noticed him before he ever noticed me.” Fondly, remembering all those times I’d watch Ryan walk in through the doors, laughing and talking with his friends. Sometimes even with another girl. Those moments sucked.

  After him and Alison broke up, it took only a couple months before I said fuck it and decided to kick the girl out of her seat and sit next to him. I was a little freshman and he was the big bad senior, girls dripping off his arms like water. Even after I pursued him, it wasn’t until halfway through my sophomore year for him to commit to only me, long after he had graduated. He’d just gotten out of a long relationship and wasn’t ready for another one so soon, he said. He wanted to spend the rest of his college years single.

  I had waited for him.

  Julie hands me a plate. Anxiety taunts me as I grab the plate with the towel, careful to not smudge it with my fingers. I delicately wipe it dry and set it down with as much grace as I can muster. I’m not normally clumsy, but I’m not usually nervous, either. I don’t handle nerves well.

  “He’s a good kid. Both of my boys are,” she says. “It seems you two are in love.”

  The compliment sends warmth rushing through my veins. If his mom can see it, then he must really love me, right?

  “We are,” I agree.

  Someone snorts from behind us. “Yeah, right.”

  I nearly drop the plate in my hand. That voice. A different warmth fills my body. It’s a feeling I can’t place, but it shames me anyways. He shouldn’t be making me feel anything.

  Carefully setting the plate down, I turn and eye Mako with distaste. Instead of shooting off the mouth like I want to, I turn and give him my back. He means nothing to me.

  It wouldn’t make a good impression in front of Ryan’s mother if I get in an argument with her other son. I would never want to embarrass Ryan like that.

  “Oh, stop it, Mako,” Julie admonishes lightly, waving a soapy hand in the air to wash away his words. Suds fly off her hand and onto my hand.

  “Ryan doesn’t love anyone more than himself,” Mako states dryly, as he reaches in the fridge and grabs a beer. I focus on the suds sizzling on my tanned skin, watching the bubbles pop and slowly disintegrate.

  Don’t engage, River. That’s what he wants.

  “She’ll be gone soon. Just like the last ones. But I figure she knows that already, since she’s so good at figuring people out.”

  Three

  River

  MY HEAD SLAMS INTO the wall as a hand encircles my jaw. Ryan’s teeth follow, ravaging my neck until I’m gritting my jaw from the mix of pain and pleasure. I arch my back, moaning while his sharp teeth draws blood to the surface.

  “No hickey,” I warn, pushing at his bare chest a little. He just presses into me further, growling at me in warning.

  “You’re mine. I’ll do whatever the fuck I please,” he snarls, switching his attack to the other side of my neck.

  He bites down particularly hard, drawing a sharp gasp between my lips. It hurts. But I don’t stop him. I want this. I really do. I do, I do, I do.

  I dole out my own pain, clawing my nails across his chest. A thigh wedges between my own, and I shamelessly grind on it, drawing out pleasure. More moans slip from my throat, as his hands grip my bare breasts and squeeze. I don’t have enormous tits, but they still overflow Ryan’s hands. He loves that.

  Pinching a nipple between his fingers, he rips his mouth away from my neck—finally—and attacks my mouth, thrusting his tongue between my teeth. I swallow him greedily, sending moans circling around our tongues. I grind harder, feeling the beginnings of an orgasm start to build.

  I need more, though.

  “Fuck me,” I beg between kisses.

  He jerks back, glaring intens
ely at me. His blue eyes have darkened into the likes of deep ocean waters. It’s a little off-putting that I can’t discern if it’s from lust or anger. Or maybe a little of both.

  “You want me to fuck you? Or do you wish I were Mako instead?” he growls, circling his hand back around my neck and slamming my head roughly against the wall once more. Not hard enough to hurt really, but his aggression is confusing.

  I still, and my brows draw forward. Ice drenches my body, distinguishing all the heat radiating from my pores.

  “What?” I ask, utterly baffled by his question. My blood chills as Ryan continues to glare. There’s no longer a question if it’s from lust or anger. My boyfriend is completely enraged and I’ve no idea why. I hadn’t thought of Mako once since we stepped through the door and he ripped my clothes off.

  “Don’t play fucking stupid, River.”

  My mouth opens and closes, not sure what the hell to say. I’m blindsided by his question. He takes it for guilt. He pushes off me harshly, roughly pushing me into the wall for a third time. This time it’s hard enough to cause me to topple over. I hit my elbow on floor in the process, the pain shooting up my arm.

  “I fucking knew it,” he growls, looking at me with accusation.

  I stare up at him in shock, panic blooming. How could he possible think that? Why can’t he see how much I love him? “Ryan, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t want Mako, I only want you,” I plead, desperate for him to just see the truth. Because I don’t want Mako. I scramble off the floor and step towards him, my hands raised with placation.

  He does better and charges towards me. Instinctively, I back up into the wall. This wall and I have never been so well acquainted, and it’s starting to grate on my nerves. He presses his chest into mine and leans forward until his breath his tickling my ear.

  “If you’re lying to me, I will hurt you, River.”

  The threat sends cold shivers down my spine. He’s never threatened me before, not with physical violence at least. Just a minute ago, I was on top of the world, ready to get myself off on his thigh before he brutally fucked me. Now, I feel bereft.

  Empty, unsatisfied, and utterly fucking bereft.

  “I’m not,” I say. It sounds weak. Pathetic and desperate.

  The moment over, he huffs like a bull and walks away, jeans still hanging low on his lips. I look down at my own naked body. A handprint decorates my thigh from dinner.

  Tilting my head to the side, I study it.

  In my psychology books, this would be considered abuse. But do I feel abused?

  The tear trailing down my cheek answers my question for me. I wipe it away before Ryan sees.

  Asshole.

  “SO, HOW DID MEETING the parents go?” Amelia asks, her brown expectant eyes radiating excitement. We’re no longer roommates, but we never let each other go, even with us now in senior year and separate houses.

  I force a wide smile. Meeting the parents went great until we got home, then everything went to shit. I’m still confused by what happened, and a cold, deep pit has been nestled in my stomach ever since. “His parents are really nice. I think they liked me.”

  Amelia’s grin grows, and she hops a couple times in excitement. My best friend is a good six inches shorter than me, so it’s like watching a Leprechaun dance because they found the gold at the end of the rainbow. “I’m happy as fuck for you, girl. I know how important meeting the parents is.”

  She would. She and her husband, David, have been together for five years now, one of them married. In the beginning, David’s Catholic parents didn’t approve of Amelia’s atheist beliefs. It took several years before they warmed up to her and now they actually invite her over to dinner. They’re a beautiful couple, inside and out. I’ve never met a man more genuine than David. Doesn’t hurt that he looks like a lumber jack out of those erotic novels I’d sneak in the library when I was a little girl. Suppose it works considering Amelia looks like she stepped out of Vogue magazine, despite her shortness.

  I shrug a shoulder. “To be honest, they’re those kinds of parents that would probably love anyone as long as they aren’t Satan worshippers or something. They’re pretty chill people.”

  Amelia waves a hand. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad. Did you fuck in his childhood bed?” she asks, wiggling her brows at me suggestively. Now she looks like a Leprechaun enticing a young child to eat the lucky charms.

  I chuckle. “None of that this time.”

  She makes a disgusted noise. “You disappoint me.”

  We’re on our way to a local ice cream shop that sells the best ice cream in a fifty-mile radius. It’s just a little shack with benches outside. Gives you that full experience—you’re not truly eating ice cream unless you’re racing the sun and attempting to eat it before it melts all over your hand.

  “He has a brother, though. I didn’t even know that until I got there,” I mention casually. When Amelia stops walking and frowns at me, I bite my lip. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”

  “Like, never, never mentioned him? Ever?”

  “Never ever. He actually specifically said he was an only child.”

  Her frown deepens, along with the teeth digging in my lip. I only stop when I begin to taste copper. Her blonde hair whips in the wind as she turns around and walks backwards, strands sticking to her face as she seems to contemplate that. Her effortless beauty makes me want to smudge her make up or something. I’m just waiting for her to trip, but she never does.

  Graceful bitch, she is.

  “You sure he’s actually their son?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “His mom said it on several occasions.”

  “Huh,” she says. “Wonder why.”

  I snort. “Well, it was a little clear once I saw them together. They hate each other.”

  “Maybe they have some weird sibling rivalry going on,” she says off-handedly.

  We’ve arrived at the ice cream shop, and the menu has snagged her attention. I decide to let it go. I’ve heard of siblings hating each other. It happens. Normally, they don’t act as if the sibling doesn’t exist unless something major happens, though.

  What are you hiding, sweet Ryan?

  “Hey,” a voice chirps from behind me. The sounds makes my heart pause. I turn to find my nemesis. Ryan’s ex-girlfriend.

  Amelia turns and her face drops. She’s never been formally introduced to Alison, but she knows exactly who she is. And she also knows the bitch tried to sabotage my relationship.

  Light brown hair, hazel eyes that change colors depending on the lighting, and a bombshell body. She’s beautiful, and I hated her on first sight. Even more so when I talked to her.

  “Hey, Alison,” I reply coolly. She has the audacity to look nervous.

  “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”

  I try not to blanch, but I do anyway. Amelia’s brows drip in confusion. I clear my throat.

  “I’m fine.”

  Her shoulders drop, along with her voice as she whispers, “I really wish you’d listen to me.”

  Anger coils my innards so tightly, my throat closes. Amelia knows she’s tried to sabotage my relationship, but I never told her how. And I don’t plan to let her in on it.

  “This is not the time or place,” I hiss under my breath, so only she can hear.

  Alison’s plump, lying lips tighten into a hard line. Dimples pop out on her cheeks and I hate her for it. My dimples are hidden in my laugh lines. Hers are cuter.

  Finally, she nods her head. She spares Amelia a glance, and then walks past me. Her hand touches my elbow briefly as she whispers, “Be careful.”

  I barely refrain from ripping my arm from her grip. Instead, I keep my gaze straight forward and let her pass.

  Amelia hands my ice cream over slowly, eyeing the spot Alison disappeared from with confusion.

  “She was… nice,” she finishes hesitantly.

  “She’s a snake.”

  Amelia d
oesn’t look convinced. And that breaks my heart a little.

  “What did she say?”

  “Nothing I haven’t already heard. She’s jealous and wants me to leave him.”

  I don’t share the reasons why. Those are for me to consider.

  Amelia’s face morphs into disgust. “What a bitch.”

  She is, isn’t she? I contemplate that as I lick my chocolate chip mint ice cream.

  “WHERE WERE YOU?” Ryan asks right as I step through the door. I pause, and fuck, that made me look guilty. He’s sitting on the couch, one foot resting on his knee as he watches ESPN. The house is spotless, and our cat, Bilby, snoozes on the headrest behind him.

  “I got ice cream with Amelia after class.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” he says snidely, not taking his eyes off the screen once. “She acts like a whore, so I’m sure there were guys there, too.”

  I sigh softly. “Babe, it was just us two, I promise. No guys. And she’s happily married to David.”

  He rolls his tongue in his mouth. He’s radiating anger. The air stinks of his bad attitude. “Let me see your phone then.” I hesitate. Why does he need to see my phone?

  He holds out an expectant hand. Reluctantly, I hand it over. Not because I have anything to hide, but because he doesn’t trust me and I want to fix that. Ryan’s my first relationship, so it’s not like I’m a notorious cheater and have a past. Don’t get me wrong, I slept around with a few guys and Ryan knows that, but I was single and unattached. Ryan’s done the same, so it’s not fair to hold my past against me. His distrust is completely unwarranted. I’ve never given Ryan any reason to think I’d want anyone else.

  I watch him open my messages, scroll through them, and then open each chat and check those. Then he opens my social media, and finally, my pictures. He sets the phone down and nods his head in acceptance.

  “Does this mean I get to look through your phone, too?” I say with an edge of bitterness. He looks up at me, and stares at me blankly. Embarrassment floods me. I’ll take that as a no.