Bare Assets

by M. L. Stephens

  Just when Angie thought her head would explode from the overload of information, Ms. Kay sauntered out of the kitchen with their meals. Seeing steam rising from the food and eyeing the large portions on her plate, Angie knew with a renewed sense of clarity that the back roads of Arkansas would always be home.

  Chapter 11

  "Looking back sometimes helps us move forward."~ Cutter

  "Angie is here!" Carla called over her shoulder as she ran towards Cutter's truck. Opening her arms, the city girl hugged her loveable sister-in-law and laughed.

  "Miss me much, sis?" Angie teased.

  "More than much," she replied. "I'm so glad you're here." Wrapping her arm through Angie's, she dragged the tired and worn woman into the house that once belonged to Angie's parents.

  "Hey, sis," Buddy said as he hugged his sister from behind and placed a kiss to the top of her head.

  "Hey," she replied with as much enthusiasm as her exhaustion would allow. She hadn't really slept since leaving for work the day before and it was beginning to take its toll.

  "Don't act so excited to see me," he sniped impishly in an attempt to yank his sibling's chain.

  "Sorry. I haven't gotten much sleep the last few days and I'm beat." That was the honest truth, but the sensation of being back in the family home was overwhelming.

  Carla had added her personal touch to the place and it looked great, but it wasn't mom and dad's house anymore. It was Buddy and Carla's. A twinge of sadness engulfed her heart and held it prisoner. Time would never repair the void which consumed the place in her life that once belonged to her mother.

  "You need to rest. We can visit later on tonight or in the morning," Buddy said firmly. "I still have farm chores to do and daylight is wasting away. If you take a nap, this will turn out to be a win for everyone."

  "Buddy Lee Fletcher, don't you dare talk to your sister like that," Carla yelped.

  Cutter chewed his lip to keep from laughing. He was accustomed to observing their amusing marital spats. Carla's polite southern ways and Buddy's outspoken, playfulness were a comedy sitcom in the making as far as he was concerned. Laughter was inevitable for those who stood witness to their antics.

  "She's knows I'm joshing her," he said sullenly, pretending to pout. Cutting his eyes to Angie, he asked, "You do know that. Don't you?"

  "Actually, you really hurt my feelings. I think it would be best if I left right away," she deadpanned. Reaching over to touch her brother's hand, Angie offered up an honest smile. The trivial sibling digs had always been their special way of communicating and she wouldn't change it for the world. "I missed you."

  Placing his hand over the top of hers, tears hit the back of his throat, nearly choking him but he swallowed them back. "I missed you too, sis. It's good to have you home. I hope we'll have time to visit after you wake up."

  Standing, Angie bid her goodnights to Buddy, Carla and Cutter and allowed her feet to follow the path down the hall to her old room. It was the same room Cutter had snuck into during the middle of the night when they were teenagers. It was the room she had gone to after discovering Cutter's supposed affair and the room she had locked herself inside of after losing her baby. Years later, it was about to become the room she fled to after suspecting the fire at her club was arson. The room was much more than four walls decorated with childhood memorabilia, a door and two windows. It was the place that her past was connecting with her present.

  Glancing around, she couldn't help but notice that it was exactly as she'd left it, except for one important feature. On the wall next to her high school and college collages, was a poster board filled with articles and writes up which had been clipped out of Dallas/Ft. Worth magazines and newspapers, relating to Bare Assets. Advertisements were mixed in with journalistic articles and each piece was placed in chronological order, dating back to her grand opening. Cutter had told the truth. Her brother was proud of her, though he had never said as much.

  Plopping down on the queen sized bed that had faithfully captured her adolescent tears as well as her joys; she opened the nightstand drawer. Staring at the wooden trinket box inside, she hesitated before taking it out. Shifting further onto the mattress, she closed her eyes, inhaled and gradually opened the lid.

  Sadness filled her chest as she lifted the hospital name band from within. It was the band she had worn when she had been admitted into the hospital for the D and C. Though she had miscarried, the fetus hadn't fully detached and passed, so she had required medical attention to complete what nature had been reluctant to do. She had entered the hospital a frightened young girl and had come out as a devastatingly broken woman.

  The loss of her baby had been the single most definitive event of her entire life and had caused her as much, if not more grief, than her break up with Cutter. It was shortly after losing her child that Cutter had announced his decision— or his family's decision as she recently learned— to marry Becky. Unable to stomach the thought of her former best friend living the life that was meant to be her own, she fled to the city and never looked back…until now.

  "You're not looking back. You're simply reminding yourself of why you left," she declared to the four walls. Wiping away a single teardrop, she thoughtfully fingered the hospital bracelet.

  "Looking back sometimes helps us move forward." The regret in his voice resounded throughout the room. Slipping the bracelet back into the box, she shut the lid and returned it to the nightstand drawer.

  "What do you want?" Being back in her childhood home stirred old feelings and she was too tired to filter her emotions or her words. Besides, she didn't appreciate the intrusion into her private thoughts or her private space, especially while she was mentally reliving her painful past.

  Until recently, she had never discussed the miscarriage with him and was still secretly resentful towards him for not being there when she'd needed him the most. So what if she had refused to see him. If he had truly cared, he would have fought his way in and done what any real man would have done. Or maybe what he told her back in Dallas was true. Maybe he hadn't wanted to cause her more hurt? She would never know. She did know that back then, her mom adored Cutter and would have gladly championed his cause. Her brother obviously still did. How else could she explain why her brother had asked Cutter to convince her to come home? The two of them obviously had some sort of bromance, which was awkward considering the circumstances, but whatever.

  Lifting his hands to indicate he came bearing gifts, Cutter approached the bed and laid additional pillows and a blanket beside her while he also sat. "Carla asked me to bring these to you. I didn't expect to find you awake."

  "Hogwash," she exclaimed, calling his bluff. "I have plenty of pillows and if you thought I was asleep you wouldn't have bothered to find an excuse to come back here," she said, glad to have given voice to her suspicions. One thing Angie could not stomach was being lied to. Not even slightly.

  "I just do as I'm told and Carla can be rather convincing," he shrugged dismissively. She had called his bluff, but so be it. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to touch her. His mind cautioned him against it as he fought to keep his craving at bay.

  Uninterested in arguing, she offered a passive smile, deciding to let it go.

  "What was in the box?" he quizzed.

  Glancing over her shoulder to the nightstand, she hesitated before turning back to meet his questioning gaze head on. Taking a deep breath, Angie gave voice to the words which might help her close this chapter of her life.

  "The hospital bracelet I wore when I miscarried."

  "You've kept it all this time?" he asked ruefully. The miscarriage had been a huge blow to him, but life had happened so quickly afterwards he wasn't given time to grieve.

  "Yes. It symbolizes the defining moment that forever changed my life."

  "I'm so sorry, Angie. I know I've already told you this, but I wanted to be there for you. I just didn't want to hurt you more than I already had. As soon as my mom and dad found out
about Becky's pregnancy, they immediately began pressing me to marry her. I was afraid that continuing to be with you would only cause more heartache. If I could take away the sorrow of our past, I would gladly absorb it into my being and swallow it whole."

  "Why didn't you stand up to your parents? They knew how much we cared about one another. They knew we had planned to marry after I graduated from college."

  "Of course they knew. They were furious with me for what we all thought I had done, but they expected me to accept my responsibility and do the noble thing by Becky.

  When they found out that you were pregnant too, shit hit the fan in a big way. My dad insisted that I do right by you instead. Naturally, I was thrilled to death. I had always planned on marrying you and felt that everything would fall into place. I called, but you refused to talk. I came by but you refused to see me. I even convinced your brother to champion my cause but you shut him out. What the hell else was I supposed to do, Angela? Just shy of breaking into your room and tying you to the bed, there wasn't any way of forcing you to listen. Even still, I held on to the hope that you would forgive me.

  When your mom called my mom to let us know that you had miscarried, I was devastated. My dad, being the decisive man he is, demanded that I shift gears again by adhering to his original plan of marrying Becky. You know my dad. It's impossible to tell him no. At least it was at the time."

  "I thought I knew your dad, but apparently not. I still find it difficult to believe that he forced you to marry her."

  Taking her hands into his, he inched closer. "He loved you then and he still loves you now. He regrets what happened, but no one regrets what happened more than me. I was a full grown man who was afraid to stand up for what I wanted." Raising his voice a notch, he shook his head. "It wasn't entirely dad's fault, though. He did force the situation, but I was wrong for allowing it. Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive my father and me for the wrong we caused?"

  "I don't know," she replied honestly. "I know that's not the answer you were expecting to hear, but it is the right answer because it is the truth."

  Lifting a finger to her cheek, he sighed. "Angie, I will spend the rest of my days in misery and neglect if you don't grant me your forgiveness."

  Gently punching him on the shoulder, she released a slight chuckle. "For a man, you sure can be a drama queen."

  "That's my girl," he breathed, happy to see her spirit lifting. "Not a day went by that I didn't think of you. Not a single day passed that I didn't curse myself for doing what I had been accused of. If nothing else, you need to know that, Angie. I never loved Becky. I married her because it was the right thing to do, or what I thought to be right at the time."

  "I believe you, Cutter, but you can't imagine how devastating it was for me. It was bad enough that you ripped my heart out by telling me you had presumably gotten my best friend pregnant, but when I suffered through the miscarriage alone and then was slapped with the news of your marriage, I was completely undone." Time had decreased her tears but her heart still mourned over what could have been.

  "Saying I'm sorry will never be enough to make it right. I am truly and irrevocably regretful that I allowed things to happen the way they did. If I spent every single day for the rest of my life telling you that, it would never be enough to express how deeply remorseful I am and will forever be."

  "I'm sorry, too," she whispered. "I shouldn't have refused your calls. We were young and confused. I didn't think I would survive, but I did, and so did you."

  "I'm alive, but I'm not surviving, Angie. There is hollowness in my life that will never be filled."

  "I know what it's like to have a hole in your life," she admitted. "I have the one that matches yours."

  The binds which had strangled their hearts for six years, instantly began to unravel and the unbiased walls of Angie's room, became silent witnesses to yet another pivotal moment in their mistress' life.

  Unable to fight the urge coursing through his veins, Cutter cradled her face in his hands and reverently captured her lips with his own. The agony of their pasts crumbled down around them, causing him to give over to the dream he had spent the last six years dreaming. His kiss became more fervent as did his need to physically liberate the years of pent up suffering and need.

  His kiss was burned into her body's memory. She remembered the thickness of his tongue as if she had kissed him just yesterday. Grasping his shirt in her hands, Angie pulled him closer. Falling back on the bed, she hauled him along. Without breaking their kiss, he repositioned himself so that his body was lying beside hers. Propping himself on one elbow, he leaned over and pressed himself deeper into the torrid release of their broken pasts.

  Ending the oral ballet of their tongues, Cutter moaned against her mouth. "God, I've missed you."

  Inhaling his words, she lifted her head to reclaim his lips. The hunger inside her grew as his hands found the mounds beneath her tee. His hands remembered her body just as her body remembered his hands. The feel of his once familiar touch sent icy shivers down her spine until it ricocheted off her bones and rocketed to her core.

  Adult passion replaced the sweetness of their adolescent past, creating a stormy super-cell of undeniable need. The principal nature to wash away their previous sins consumed their minds and momentarily wiped away the dirty deeds of the past in aspirations of discovering an undamaged future.

  Lust is one of humanity's most powerful emotions. Combine that emotion with the unrelenting longing of two hearts seeking one another's forgiveness, and the result is a firestorm of unspeakable passion. The heart seldom refuses to believe what the mind already knows. Some sins cannot be erased. But for a brief moment in time, sexual release soothes the spirit and the bodies, collide in a universal display of absolution.

  Her wanton moans reached his ears, igniting a fire inside of him that had been latent since she'd left Arkansas. The need to possess her heart, body and soul became a raging furnace of sensuous desire. He wanted to lay claim to the woman he was once destined to marry.

  The woman who had almost bore his child and filled every crevice of his mind, was lying beside him. He needed to bury himself within the warmth of her folds and rediscover the man he used to be. Eager to finish what he had so cleverly started, he slipped his hand down her pants and gingerly cupped the dampness between her legs. The moan she released into his mouth only heightened his resolve. Before the day was over, he would make sure she forgot about her life in the big city.

  "Stop," she demanded hastily, pulling at his hand. He ignored the plea. Slipping a finger into the warmth of her female caverns, he explored with renewed vigor, soundlessly begging the gods that he be allowed to bury his throbbing length inside her womanly goodness before the night was over. She held the key to forgiveness and acceptance. She was the missing piece to his personal puzzle. Angie was the other half of who he was. She completed his circle.

  "No," she said, pushing against his chest. "I can't do this."

  Panting, he removed his hand from her jeans, grabbed her wrists and held them against the mattress as he leaned in for another kiss "Don't fight it, Angie. You know it's want we both want."

  Turning her head to avoid his lips, she ignored the aching spot between her legs and instead mumbled the words echoing in her mind. "No," she whimpered. "I can't." She had journeyed down Cutter Street before. It was a dead end. History might have a habit of repeating itself, but she did not. Being with him would only complicate her life more than it was. Misleading him into thinking there was something more between them was wrong.

  He studied her through lazy eyes. "Baby girl, what's the matter?"

  Her heart groaned at the sound of his old endearment. "It's been six years, Cutter. Things have changed. I've changed."

  "I've changed too, but the love we had will never change because it was real."

  Pulling her wrists from his grasp she sat up, turning her back to him. "We did love one another, as in past tense. If we do this now, it won't be bec
ause we're committing to our current selves or to a future. It will be because we want to hold on to the past. The past is broken, Cutter. I don't want it back."

  With a heavy sigh, he sat up, wrapping his arms around from behind, he nuzzled her neck. "My past self, my present self and my future self all agree. We want you, Angie. Nothing else has ever mattered to me more than you."

  With a sarcastic snort, she shook her head and stood. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned to face him as realization flooded clouded senses. She finally understood.

  "That's not true. You cared about what your father thought. You cared about what Becky thought and you cared about Becky's son. The one single person that you didn't consider was me. I was prepared to give up college for you and our child," she said hotly.

  "You knew how much I wanted to get out of this town, but I would have happily stayed here for our family. You were the world to me, Cutter. But that world no longer exists. We no longer exist. That girl who was willing to die for you? She no longer exists." Heaving a sigh, she sat down on the bed and angled her body towards his.

  The moisture building in his eyes threatened to spill over. The girl of her past wanted to kiss away the tears and cuddle close to him until the world was set right, but the woman sitting next to him today only felt friendly compassion and a twinge of pity.

  "You love me, Ang. I know you do."

  Reaching up to caress his face, she tilted her head as she carefully considered the truth. "I do love you. I will always love you, but I'm not in love with you. I haven't been for a very long time."

  An inner peace clutched her insides and warmed her essence from within. For the first time since leaving home, she saw Cutter with renewed vision. He wasn't the cold hearted boy of her past. He hadn't intentionally hurt her and he had also suffered from the breakup. But time changes things. It had changed her. Cutter had been a huge part of her life, but that life was over. Looking at him now, she saw a man who was searching for the boy he used to be. Regardless of what he thought, he didn't want her. He wanted the youth that had been stolen from him when he married Becky. She would never be able to give him that. No one could.