Cut

by Bry Ann

  “Please hurry,” she whimpers. “God, please hurry.”

  Her hips jerk against me. Shit. Seriously, I’m not Superman, here. My need is just as frantic and desperate as hers. My way of expressing it is just different.

  “Okay, shh, I got you,” I assure her, voice hoarse.

  I’m preparing to shift her underwear, probably thong, to the side. But it’s not there. She’s bare. I groan and bite down on my tongue.

  “Maria,” I growl. “Seriously. This whole time.”

  She smirks at me.

  I slowly slide my finger up and down her pussy. Just once. She’s soaked. Absolutely drenched. Her whimpers fill my ear. The feeling of her hips undulating against my hand makes my heart beat faster. A woman like her… I don’t understand.

  “You’re wet for me?” It comes out like a question.

  “Duh,” she smiles, cupping my face with one hand.

  I wait for more, but that’s all she gives me before biting down on my shoulder. “Move your hand!” She snaps at me.

  I thought I had a high tolerance for misery until this moment. Holy shit, my cock…

  Slowly, at first, I circle my finger around her clit. She jerks hard.

  “Keep going. More of that. Oh my god. Please make me come. Oh god, please.”

  Dear Lord.

  “I got you.”

  I increase the pressure, pick up the pace. I work magic on her clit until her thighs are shaking against me. She’s whimpering, moaning, begging, stripped of all control. This is the Maria she hides.

  And my heart is so full, getting to be witness to it.

  “Please,” she cries. Thrusting her hips hard against me.

  I growl and slide two fingers inside her, curving them to stroke her G-spot. It doesn’t take long for me to get her to come. For her to absolutely shatter around me. Not sure how far to push her, I remove my hand and grip her sides to steady her.

  “Shh,” I soothe when she starts to come down. “Shh, it’s alright.”

  I already know when she comes down she’s going to struggle. I can deny and self-sabotage myself all day long, but even I know that was more than an orgasm. That was something else entirely between us.

  So when her head falls to my shoulder and she squeezes me tight, trying to stay together, I’m caught unprepared.

  “I’m falling,” she whispers in my ear, on the brink of tears, “and you’re not gonna be there to catch me.”

  I hold her tighter. I stroke her back and her hair, trying to help her not cry, because I know she really doesn’t want to right now. That she’s not ready to.

  The whole time I soothe her, all I can think of are Lacey’s wise words. Words I didn’t understand until now. Lacey’s too wise for her young age. Of all the men and women I’ve met —and I’ve met a lot, all ages and types— she’s the most insightful person I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.

  “Don’t hurt her, okay? I know you wouldn’t mean to, but… you don’t realize how great you are. You’re this silent savior and you don’t even realize it. She likes you, and you’re so nice, but you’re closed off. Be careful with her feelings.”

  22

  Thirty-five minutes on the road and Maria still hasn’t talked to me. I soothed her for a while, right there on the side of the road. Doing all I could to calm her. I couldn’t. Even when she quietly climbed off me, her heart was still racing.

  I don’t know what to say to her. How to make her feel better. I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d be the one to hurt her. I don’t know how to stop it. Or where I went wrong. I’m terrified. For myself. For her. For the feelings that are bound to blow up in both of our faces.

  “I need to change,” Maria says, breaking the silence.

  I almost crash the freaking car with how much attention I give that statement. I’m just happy she’s talking. Shit, I’ve been so fucking scared.

  “Alright, sure. Whatever you need,” I say hurriedly.

  She gives me a wobbly smile.

  “You scared, big guy?” Her voice is quiet.

  “Terrified,” I mutter.

  “I love that you’re willing to say so.”

  I smirk at her. “No sense in lying. It’s written all over my face.”

  “We’re going to be in Altamont in, what, ten minutes? You never told me which member of your family we are seeing first, but I assume there’s not one single one of them you’d want me to meet with semen stains on my skirt.”

  I choke. “Jesus, Maria!”

  “What?” She laughs. “It’s true. If you can’t handle the heat, get out of the kitchen.”

  She shrugs and turns back to the front of the car, but I see the playful smirk on her face. I’m so glad it’s there. She can say whatever she wants.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Anywhere. I’m easy, remember? Gas station, clothing store, wherever. I have clothes in my bag, but have a little cash, too, if I need to buy some. Whatever’s easier for you.”

  Okay, what man gets to hear that? I mean, come on.

  I look at her, clad in skin-tight, sexy as hell clothing.

  “How the hell do you do that with so little time and resources?”

  “Do what?”

  Her eyes twinkle. Oh, she fucking knows.

  “Look like that,” I gesture to her body, “without trying.”

  “Oh, I try! But dad taught me real quick that wasting time on vanity would not be accepted. Had to learn how to be sexy without all the bells and whistles.”

  She taps the side of her head with one finger.

  “Had to be smart. There was always a way around Dad’s rules, I just had to be smart enough to find it. And he respected the hell out of me for doing so.”

  “You’re one of a kind. I’ll give you that.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  I shake my head and suppress a smile. This woman.

  “Why do you do that?”

  I look over to find Maria frowning at me.

  “Do what?”

  “You don’t let yourself smile. You stop yourself all the time. It drives me insane. Sometimes smiling is all we have, and you deprive yourself of that, too. You need to cut that shit out right now!”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “I will kick your ass. I’m serious! It’s just wrong. You deserve smiles. Bottom line. And you will stop that constant brooding, unhappy shit. I will no longer accept it.”

  I can’t stop the laugh that bursts out of me. It feels so foreign on my tongue.

  “You won’t accept it? Get out of here, Maria.”

  “I won’t! I’m not kidding. I’m done with it, and you’d do best to listen to me, big guy. Now, where are we going?”

  I shake my head, still smiling. She got what she wanted, I guess, because no one talks to me like that. No one but Mandi and my mom. No one sees past my scars enough to scold me like I’m some fucking kid. I’m so happy, so light right now, I could burst. I owe her everything for making me feel this way again after so many years. I’d take a bullet for her. Hell, I’d take ten, for giving me this moment right here. For giving me all the moments she’s given me so far.

  “My mom’s.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Your mom’s. Oh my god, you could have warned me. Could have… I don’t know. I can’t meet your mom! Are you kidding me? I’m not mom material.”

  I go dark. “Maria, listen to me right now. I don’t know what you mean by all that, but I’ll start with this. One, what did you think I meant by family? So I did already tell you. Two, don’t you ever tell me you’re not worthy of meeting my mom. I’ve never met anyone more worthy to meet my mom. I don’t care about other people’s mom’s, but mine, you deserve to meet her.”

  She gives me a soft look. “Why?” She whispers.

  “Are you fishing, Maria?”

  “Maybe.”

  Her lips curve up in a sexy little smile.

  “Hooks don’t bother me, woman. Gonna have to try harder than that.”

&n
bsp; “Damn, maybe next time. Okay then, is it your mom and dad, or what am I in for?”

  “No dad. Just my mom. We’ll meet Mandi later.”

  “Who the hell is Mandi?”

  The venom in her voice makes me turn around. A smile falls on my lips again.

  “Are you jealous, Maria?”

  “I’m not jealous, asshole! Who is Mandi?”

  “For all intents and purposes, she’s my sister.”

  “Oh.”

  Her shoulders fall. It’s definitely there. Relief. I smirk as my heart swells in my chest. She was jealous. Holy shit.

  “Why your mom first? I mean, wouldn’t your sister-friend be easier?”

  I really smirk at that. “Oh no, trust me. Mom’s easier.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “Who?”

  “Your mom. Mandi. Your life. Tell me about yourself. I want to know.”

  I stay silent for a moment. When was the last time somebody said those words? I want to know about you. No one wants to know my story beyond how I got these scars. She hasn’t asked me for that full story once, not with her words or even her looks.

  I can always tell when someone is dying to know.

  She’s not.

  Sure, she’s curious. Who wouldn’t be? But she wants to know the more important shit first. Wants to get to know me on a level deeper than skin.

  And fuck, is she digging her nails in a place deeper than my skin.

  “My mom is a pillar of strength and love. There is no woman I will ever meet who could measure up to my mom. Up until the day I turned fifteen, I never knew what it was to struggle or hurt. She carried every burden for me and placed it on her shoulders. I owe her everything I am and ever will be.”

  Maria looks to her lap with sad eyes.

  “She sounds incredible.”

  “She is.”

  “And Mandi?”

  “Mandi’s my best friend. My sister, really. She’s lived with me since I was fourteen. My mom took her in and worked a second job without her knowledge to pay for her. We were never particularly rich.”

  “How’d all that come about?”

  “I moved a lot when I was a kid. My dad was a piece of shit. To this day, my mom won’t tell me anything other than she handled it, and I’ll never know what he was like. She told me a few things as a kid, enough to understand why we moved a lot, why I never met him, but she wanted me to hold on to who I wanted him to be. Anyway, at six, I ditched class. My own mini rebellion I guess. Mandi was all about rules, even as a little thing. She’s a year younger than me. She got me to go back to class that day, and up until the day I turned fifteen, we were inseparable.”

  “Fifteen, huh?”

  “Yes, fifteen.”

  My voice goes cold. I can’t help it.

  “Hey, I’m not asking you for anything you don’t want to give. Tell me more about you. What is a young martial arts extraordinaire like as a kid?”

  I snort. “Extraordinaire? You’re really laying it on thick.”

  She grins.

  “Didn’t even know how to throw a punch,” I confess. “Didn’t know the first thing about fighting or criminals or any of that crap. I was your average punk-ass teenage boy.”

  Her face looks even more miserable. I’m scared to ask why, but I’m equally scared she’ll never tell me. Maria is a pro at hiding her feelings. They’re not usually written on her face like they are now. She’s slipping.

  “I hate them!” She screams suddenly, smashing through the silence in the car. “Fuck them. You were normal. You had everything. A mom that loves you, a best friend that cares. Fuck them for taking away your innocence. I hate them.”

  Before I can respond, she throws her feet up on the seat and huffs.

  “Stop at the next store. I need a change of clothes. Your mom deserves better than this shitty outfit.”

  I don’t say another word, I can’t. When we reach the next store, I pull over, and Maria quickly changes into a black pencil skirt with the same button-down she wore to meet her dad. I watch as she transforms into a young woman who respects her elders, and another slip of control I have over my feelings for her vanishes into thin air.

  “You ready?”

  My voice is professional. I can barely look at her since her outburst in the car, and she knows it, so she’s being the strong one, even though I know she’s nervous.

  “Sure.”

  She starts to adjust her skirt again. Then her shirt. She looks insecure, and I quickly realize there’s nothing more I hate than seeing Maria Vasquez insecure. I grab her wrist suddenly, forcing her to whip around and face me.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Stop. You look good. You deserve to meet my mom, so cut that shit out.”

  I throw her arm back down and ring the doorbell. The familiar sound of heels clicking along the tile echoes in my ears. Then the door is thrown open. With shining eyes and slicked back, black hair, my mom stands in front of me.

  “You’re home!”

  She throws her arms around my body and squeezes tight. I force my heart not to soften.

  I don’t belong here.

  I glance once at the scarred arms wrapping around my mother, and give her a gentle pat on the back.

  “It’s so good to see you, Mom.”

  Getting the message, my mom pulls away with a squeeze of my wrist.

  “It’s really good to see you, Brantley. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too, Mo—”

  My words are cut off by a shriek from Maria.

  “Brantley! Your name is Brantley. Taylor is your last name, too. That’s what you said at the nursing home.”

  Her eyes light up.

  “You’re Brantley Taylor!”

  And I officially want to bash my head into a wall.

  “Brantley, sweetie, who is this young lady and why the hell does she not know your name?”

  Fuck.

  23

  “Let’s just go inside, okay?”

  Now my mom’s glaring at me, hard. Maria, on the other hand, looks thoroughly confused. She keeps trying to catch my eyes. Your mom doesn’t know what you do?

  My mom widens the door with an exaggerated hand gesture, clearly pissed, but she softens a bit when Maria passes through. We all congregate in the living room. A tense silence passes once we’re all gathered.

  Glad we’re off to a good start.

  I have no clue what to say. Yeah, Mom, I do teach martial arts in Illinois, I wasn’t lying about that, but I’m sort-kinda affiliated with an MC. I go by Cut, most definitely not Brantley. And, oh yeah, I train almost exclusively criminals.

  Mom raises her eyebrows at me, then gives Maria a welcoming, if not apologetic, smile.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Taylor. I guess I’ll start, since Brantley is so quiet over there. My name is Maria. I kind of roped Brantley into coming with me on this trip. I didn’t know you were nearby and, well, he asked if we could see you too since you were so close. So, here I am, I guess. Sorry if I’m intruding at any time. Just tell me to go wait in the kitchen or something if you need privacy. But mind you, I probably will eat some of your food.”

  The smile my mom gives her is genuine. It spreads across her face and reaches her eyes.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Maria. How did you and Brantley meet? I’m especially intrigued since you didn’t know his first name.”

  My mom’s disapproving gaze swings to me. Great, I’m surrounded by two women completely unafraid to speak their mind. It’s my favorite trait in a woman, but not right now, when it’s all aimed at me.

  Not when my two lives are crashing together.

  “He coaches one of my friends,” Maria says, purposely keeping it cagey.

  “But you didn’t know his name?”

  I finally look up. Maria’s gaze swings to me this time. Her eyebrows are tight. What do I say, Brantley? I’m infinitely grateful that she’s not spilling my secrets. I almost wish she would have
, because then I wouldn’t trust her. And without trust, there’s nothing. This, whatever it is, would have been built upon quicksand. Been sucked away easily.

  As it is, she didn’t. She looked to me.

  I’m sick, but I don’t know what’s worse: if Maria told my mom the truth and broke her heart, or what she just did. Because now I’m in deeper.

  “Mom, I go by a nickname back in Illinois.”

  I see that strong shield go over my mother’s eyes. The one she wears when she’s sad, but trying to be strong for me.

  “Why would you do that, Brantley?”

  “Not now, Mom.”

  “No one is—”

  “Not now!” I snap.

  My mom shakes her head. Guilt instantly swells in my chest.

  “Didn’t mean to snap at you, mom. You know that.”

  “I know Brantley. You just…” She shakes her head again and forces a smile on her face. “Anyway, tell me about yourself, Maria.”

  “Well, I’m a psych major. I worked as a tech at a private treatment center for a long time. I loved it there, actually. But my friend needed help, and, well, I couldn’t stay at my cushy job while she was struggling, so I went with her. That landed me where I am now.”

  “What got you into psychology, sweetheart?”

  Maria’s eyes soften. I watch curiously as she leans forward like an eager young child desperate for attention.

  “Honestly, I was lost. My dad wanted me to have my major selected by the time I was fifteen so I could start planning college accordingly. As some stupid form of rebellion, I refused. I was on my own with school after that, and well, I picked my major at the last possible moment. I’m not mad, though. I love my major, and I really got myself together after that. I realized how stupid I was being.”

  “Wow, fifteen is so young. Your dad sounds like a stickler.”

  Maria laughs. “He is! You have no idea.”

  For the next hour, Maria and my mom talk. It’s the lightest I’ve seen Maria. The more my mom asks about her, and the more she gives gentle, nonjudgmental feedback, Maria brightens. I sit back, arms crossed over my chest, and watch them. I knew Maria and my mom would get along. They’re two strong women who never let the world see them fall. That’s why I kept telling Maria my mom would love her. No matter what she wore, said, or did, my mom would see the strength and heart in Maria, and do nothing but respect it.