He takes a deep breath and hesitates. “Are you sure you want me to?”
I nod as a tear escapes the reservoir that is holding them in. Is he really going to do this for me?
I did state earlier that I thought if I asked him to do bad things with me, he would.
I guess I was right.
He drags the razor over the inside of my thigh. “Can you feel it, Bella—is the pain there.”
“It hurts so fucking much, Cutter. Bleed it out of me, take my nightmares away,” I demand.
He presses the blade deeper.
The blood trickles down my thigh.
He puts his thumb over my wound. “I know you feel the cut now, Bella, don’t make me do this,” he pleads but we’ve come too far for him to stop now.
Tears are falling down his cheeks, but I need this from him. I need to know what is happening between us is real.
He barely breaks my skin.
“I can’t feel you, Cutter, make me feel you, go deeper. I need you to make the pain stop,” I beg.
Picking the blade up from the slightly blood-stained sheet, he rubs his fingers over the cold metal and takes a deep breath.
Exhale.
He draws in another deep breath.
Whoosh.
Exhale.
Cutter comes close once more, gripping the cold metal blade, and this time, he doesn’t hesitate to make a deeper cut on the opposite leg.
This time cutting the tender flesh between my thigh and center, the razor digs in deep. He slowly slices across my skin. He fights the tears threatening to escape again. And then it happens.
It hurts.
The pain I have been waiting for rips through my sensitive skin.
The pain in his eyes breaks me. Hurting Cutter makes me feel. The darkness inside me is being bled out. I can feel it draining from my body.
A tear breaks through my reserve once more. “Mother fucking son of a bitch that fucking hurt.” I grab a hold of his face and push my tongue through his lips. I suddenly feel so free. I can feel him again. The pain is lifted from my chest.
“You are beautiful, Cutter Dawson, so fucking beautiful.” I look into his eyes, and I can’t hold back my desire any longer.
I can’t fight it anymore.
I want him to try like hell to be mine—to make me his.
I feel so alive.
I feel as if I could run through a brick wall right now and nothing could hurt me. How can someone I just met understand what I so desperately crave? I need him tonight, and I want to feel every inch of his skin on me.
He pushes me back on the bed and returns my kiss. His tongue stretches deep into my mouth. I suck his tongue daring him to go further. I want him right now. I don’t know what it says about me that I am so fucking hot for him right now. That it turns me on that he can flip on my switch with the swipe of a blade.
I don’t want to waste this beautiful moment.
The blood is still dripping from my wounds and onto the sheets and it hurts so good.
My skin is burning but there is another flame between my thighs that is begging to be put out. He grabs the center of my button down flannel and pops it open. Trailing his tongue from my mouth to my collarbone, he’s licking my trail of tears.
Nipping at my neck he continues to my breasts. He rips the white lacy material covering my taught nipples and throws it to the floor. Damn, I really loved that peek a boo lace, but I love his mouth sucking on my nipples more.
Rolling my nipple between his thumb and finger with one hand, he grabs a hold of my face with the other. Huskily, he says, “I am going to show you what it means to really feel me, Bella.”
“I don’t want to be sad anymore, Cutter.” My pussy is clinching so tight. I need him to drive his cock into me hard and fast. I want him in me balls deep. “That’s right, Cutter make me feel all of you, every delectable, beautiful inch.”
There is nothing romantic about it when he tears my panties off with his teeth. He grips the top of my thighs and pulls me close to him. I wrap my legs around him in tight grip and pull him down on top of me.
He kisses me like tomorrow may never come. And right now, in this moment, I don’t want it to. Because when tomorrow comes, I won’t be able to feel anything again, other than my nightmares. I have been down this road with myself before, and once I come down from this cloud, Cutter will hate me for making him come down with me.
“Fuck, you are so beautiful.” He runs his hands over my body, exploring all of me. I think he kisses every inch of my skin.
“That’s real sweet, Cutter, but right now I want you to take your clothes off and fuck me until I forget my own name.”
As he quickly undresses, I have to suppress a giggle when he trips over his own feet while taking off his pants.
He takes a moment to get a condom from his wallet.
Harlan crosses my mind for a brief moment, but I push the thoughts away and continue to take all that Cutter is willing to give. He drives into me, hard. I am going to pay for this tomorrow; the guy is hung like a horse. I’m not talking the average six or seven inch man; he has to be a good ten inches. I’m not even sure how he is able to fit his massive cock all the way in my tight pussy. Harlan was a good six inches on a good day.
“Oh gawd,” I cry out. I think he just ripped or tore something—like I just lost my virginity all over again. I mean, I guess it could be possible, but he feels too good for me to care. The wounds on my thighs tear back open and begin to bleed once more. His sweat gets inside them. It hurts, but in a good way. I am just happy to feel it at all. He draws his cock out of me and comes back at me even harder. He wasn’t kidding when he said sex with him would hurt, but like I told him—the pain turns me on.
He grips my thighs, and my blood stains his hands as he pumps into me wildly.
My head is beating against the headboard.
Faster and faster, he slides in and out of my slick center. I grab hold of his firm ass and dig my nails in.
“Bella, you are so beautiful, feels so damn good. You are perfect in every way my beautifully broken rose. I’m going to put you back together,” Cutter says against my mouth, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and biting it before sucking on it.
I bite his bottom lip in return breaking the skin. His blood tastes like salt and rust against my tongue. He runs his fingers down my jaw smearing my blood across my face, pounding me softer and slower. He takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks it, swirling his tongue over my tender bud. He knows exactly what to do to get me off. I feel the fire in the pit of my belly crackling and popping, burning my flame higher and brighter as I reach my climax and extinguish the flame.
Cutter’s body jerks and shudders as he relieves himself, tattooing his essence across my chest. I take my finger and smear him across my breasts and lick the essence of him from my fingers.
He collapses beside me and drapes his legs over me pinning me in place. “That was intense.”
“That was just what I needed.” I let out a tired breath. I would almost go a second round with him, but I am spent, and by the sounds of his labored breathing, he is too. My vagina is going to hurt for a week.
I wiggle out from under him and take a shower to clean myself up. In the shower, watching my blood swirl down the drain brings me down.
The high has vanished.
I sit in the bottom of the shower and think about what I just asked of Cutter.
What he gave to me so willingly.
The soap stings my cuts, but I can hardly feel it, the numb is taking back over again. The darkness surrounds me all too quickly.
*—*
I awake the next morning with Cutter holding me close. I am wrapped in a towel, my cuts are bandaged, and the sheets have been stripped from the bed. Fuck, my legs hurt, and my vagina feels like it could use an ice pack.
I want to run from him and never look back. I am sick at my stomach as the memories of last night dance through my head. I see something in the corner
of the room. I raise my head to look and I could swear Harlan was just here. I can feel him nearby. I jerk up out of the bed and make it to the commode before I empty out my guilt, my shame.
I am going to ruin Cutter and break him just like Harlan did me. But this time I won’t be here for the aftermath. I am in too deep, and he cares too much. It was never supposed to go this far. I thought he would have run far and fast when I asked him to cut me, to make me feel.
There is a knock on the bathroom door.
“Are you okay, can I get anything for you?”
“I am good, thanks,” I say in a snappy tone.
Now the paranoia is setting in.
How well do I even know this guy?
I barely know the guy and he just rocked my fucking world with his massive cock. He fucks like a champ. Cutter knows all my darkest and deepest secrets and yet I really know nothing of him.
A part of me is starting to think he is already fucked up. Maybe I won’t break him after all. He was easily swayed to do what I wanted, and he didn’t even flinch when I told him how I like to cut myself. I can’t help it when the uncontrollable laughter bubbles and escapes my throat. His name is fucking Cutter. I cut myself to control the pain to keep the numbing darkness in check, to keep the poison from swallowing me whole, and I get involved with a guy named Cutter. How fucking ironic is that?
Chapter 8
September
It’s been three weeks since I shared one of my deepest secrets with Cutter. He is the only person who knows what I do to myself—the first person to see my scars, both the ones I hide inside and out. He hasn’t judged me for it. He seems to understand my pain unlike anyone in this world, even more than Harlan ever could, or would. If Harlan saw me cut myself or if I would have ever dared to ask him to cut me, he would have wanted to have me committed. Then again, if Harlan were here I wouldn’t be doing it in the first place.
I have an appointment today with Dr. Peters. I am not looking forward to it at all. Classes start tomorrow, and I am nervous about being around so many people. The whispers and stares don’t bother me, now. It’s the ones who think I need their pity for what happened who irritate me the most. I deserve everything that comes my way.
I was told once before by a bitch in school that I am a weak person and I was put on this Earth to be walked on. I guess in a way she was right, Harlan trampled all over me and I let him. That boy could do whatever he wanted, and I would accept it willingly. I miss him.
He spoon-fed me bullshit on a daily basis, and I believed him. Because I wanted so badly for it to be real. I wanted Harlan to love me like have loved him.
Cutter has my thoughts all messed up. He breezes in out of nowhere and has me questioning everything I thought I ever knew. Nothing in my life has ever been real, not even sex, until Cutter. That is why I needed him to prove himself to me. To be honest, had he not hurt me so good, I may not still be here.
I may have died in my bathtub, and if not then, maybe the next day.
Cutter has gotten himself a job at a local hardware store. He doesn’t know that I see Dr. Peters and I intend to keep it that way. He is working this morning, so I don’t have to make up some lame story to him about doing something with my Gram. That is the thing about a lie; it is more work than it is worth. One lie leads to two, and that only complicates things further, and I don’t need any more complications coming in and butt-fucking my life up any more than it already is— fucked. The truth always makes itself known in the end, but I don’t want him to know about my thera-rape-me sessions.
I am meeting Cutter during his lunch break today. I go through my morning routine. I turn my TV to the local news. I like to listen to it while I get ready. It keeps me current. I go through my closet trying to find something to wear but nothing is standing out to me. I don’t understand why the perfect outfit can’t just fling itself from the hangers and say, “Here, bitch, wear me today, I would look exceptional on you.” Okay, it would really scare the shit out of me if it did, but it would still be cool.
Do I go for casual and sophisticated or do I go for sexy and chic? Mercy, I can’t believe I am putting so much thought into meeting Cutter for lunch.
I haven’t felt Harlan’s presence with me for days. It is probably because he is angry with me, for not being with him.
I miss him, but not like I have been.
I have still been visiting the falls every morning though.
Cutter doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t have to. He has been going with me when he doesn’t have to work, but I am glad he isn’t going with me today. I need to talk to Harlan, and I can’t do it while Cutter is lurking behind me and listening to every word. Harlan isn’t a fan of Cutter. I can’t feel him as strongly when he is with me.
I settle for my favorite black skinny jeans and my red V-neck tee. I style my hair in a loose ponytail and grab a cup of yogurt for breakfast. Raspberry is my favorite flavor. I slip on my black ballerina flats and head out the door to be met in the hall by Cutter. “Hey, aren’t you working today?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to give you this.” He leans in and brushes his lips over my knuckles. After our heated night, I told him I wanted to take this very slow and cautious. I don’t need him falling in love with me. And though it has been weeks, my vagina is still recovering, but that doesn’t mean I’d say no if he wanted to fuck me again. We agreed to a year together, not to be a couple or fuck buddies.
He is supposed to take me to get a tattoo this weekend. I don’t even know what I want exactly but I will pick something. I walk to the elevator with him still holding my hand. He hasn’t pressured me for anything more than I am ready to give. Right now, just being here is all I can offer him. He says that is enough and I hope that it is—because I lost myself when Harlan died. And I’m not sure if I will ever find my way back to the girl I once was, or if I even want to.
Hurley is waiting in the parking lot for him. I am trying super hard to be more social, but Hurley’s cocky attitude reminds me too much of Harlan, it is hard to be around him. He is planning what he refers to as the most epic Halloween party this town has ever seen.
Hurley already has it already decided that Cutter and I will come as the Joker and Harley Quinn, while he and Brianna will dress as Batman and Catwoman. He—Hurley works at the hardware with Cutter, his uncle owns it. That is how Cutter got the job to begin with. They offer me a ride, but I actually enjoy the bus ride to the falls.
I make it to the bus stop just in time; the driver is actually on time for once. Enjoying the ride in silence I think about what I would be doing right now if Harlan hadn’t died that day.
Would we still be together?
Would I have still met Cutter?
Would something else catastrophic have happened to make me still feel as I do now?
*—*
I start the hike to the bridge. I have traveled this path so many times, and I know every rock, every bump, and every tree. It is amazing how comforting the smallest everyday things can become. The small things we take for granted that surround us every day, and yet we never stand still long enough to notice them. I take a moment to listen to the birds as they sing. When I get to the top of the bridge, there is caution tape and a sign posted that the bridge is closed for repairs. Looks like they finally raised enough money to fix all the wear and tear from the years.
My chest tightens, and I feel like all the wind has been knocked from my sails. Don’t they understand how much I need this to be near him. I realize I forgot to take my medicine this morning. Just great, if I show up to Dr. Peters acting all fidgety he will know I skipped my pills today I am too scared to go to the cliffs—where Harlan died. I light up a cigarette and walk back down the trail to the marina.
As I make my way to the bench to wait for the bus, I see fucking Tweety Bird sitting in her car watching me. You have got to be kidding me, why is she all the way out here? Great, she knows I have seen her. Hell. I put my cigarette out as she approaches me slowly.
She looks like whore Barbie. Her blonde hair is blowing behind her in the breeze and her boobs look like they are pushed up so tight under her hot pink tube top, they are about to touch her chin. Does the girl own any clothes? She looks like she is ready to go work a pole somewhere. Doesn’t she know a little mystery goes along way? If you dress cheaply, that is how men will treat you. At least that is what my Gram always taught me.
Brianna is just one of those girls who once they have pissed in your Cheerios, everything about them rubs you the wrong way. Even her shade of pink lipstick makes me want to smack her. She is also one of those annoying people who pops their gum as they chew it and smacks their lips while they eat. Just looking at her perfect face makes me want to choke her. Even her teeth are perfect. Fucking bitch.
I can’t help it. She brings out violent thoughts in me. Trust me, five minutes alone with her and you’d feel the same.
“Can we talk, Bella?” She edges closer but is unsure if she should chance sitting next to me. That’s right, doll face, keep back. “Can I give you a ride back to town or something?”
I agree only because I need to get home and take my medicine, and I really don’t want to wait for the bus. I’d really like to tell her to keep it fucking moving, but I rise to start walking to her car and she flinches. I’m not that intimidating, am I?
“Relax, I’m not going to hit you, again. You really pissed me off the other day.” I slide into the passenger seat and she follows getting into the driver’s side.
She turns the key in the ignition and turns the volume down on the radio. “Look, I am sorry, I shouldn’t have said what I did about you and it was a cunt move. I can’t imagine what the past year has been like for you. I mean, if I lost someone I cared for like you cared for Harlan I—I don’t know. But I am truly sorry.” She backs out of the parking lot.
I guess it is my turn to say something. “Brianna, I’m not sure what I ever did to you, to warrant your distaste for me, but it has always been this way between us. And you slept with Harlan and that hurt me, it cut deep.”
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