by Madison Diaz
Carrie's jittery energy gets out of control by the end of the night. She’s gotten us multiple pitchers and keeps putting her arm around everyone's shoulders excitedly. Michael shoves her away fairly quickly, obviously uncomfortable with it, but Sean and Nick put their arms around her too, with a kiss on the cheek.
Their natural affection makes something in my chest ache. Memories of how cold my parents had been before I ran away crept up in my mind. I never would have kissed my dad’s cheek or hugged him close like that. My brother had been affectionate with me, but my parents didn’t like it. They made our simple hugs seem inappropriate, and he’s been out of my life for so long. I wonder if I were to contact him now if he’d still care about me at all.
I try to stop myself from thinking about it as I wrap my arm around Nick. His leg is up on the booth behind me as I snuggle into him. I can tell how much the cast annoys him. The urge to come clean about everything from that night stirs inside me, but what if he doesn’t forgive me? How long can I keep pretending to be this perfect girlfriend to him?
"I bet Leah has a beautiful singing voice," Carrie muses loudly, sipping her beer.
Nick smiles at me as I flush. "No. I'm sure I sound like a dying cat."
"Really?" She smirks at her brother like she knows she’s about to embarrass him. "Nick told me you sound like a goddess when you sing in the shower."
My eyes widen as I gawk at him. He shrugs with a grin. "You definitely don't sound like a dying cat, babe."
Carrie’s still smiling. "They do karaoke at this place down the street. You should go up."
I shake my head. "No way."
She’s pouting now. "Come on, please?"
Nick gives me a reassuring squeeze as I repeat, "Nope."
She sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes in the process. "I'll get you to sing for me one of these days."
"Okay, pushy," Sean chimes in, knocking elbows with her. “Leave the poor girl alone.”
She punches him in the gut, making him 'oomph.' Nick smoothes his hand up and down my side and leans closer to whisper in my ear. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."
The corners of my lips turn up for him. His eyes glaze over, showing me how drunk he really is, but he’s the cutest and sweetest drunk I've ever met. Instead of answering him, I just seal our mouths together. Carrie groans as my hands cup Nick's cheeks and his tongue slides into my mouth. His arms wrap tighter around me, pulling me further onto his lap, where we start full-on making out.
Our booth quickly empties out. Our friends don’t want to witness how much I really enjoy being in my new boyfriend’s arms. It’s hard to keep my hands off of him in general, but after being a few beers in, my self-control has disappeared completely. His hands trail over my body, grabbing, rubbing, caressing. We’re a hot mess in the booth before someone grabs my arm roughly and pulls me to my feet.
"There you are," a familiar voice whispers in my ear. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I slowly turn, making eye contact with Ethan. He found me. He grins in this way that sends chills down my spine. He wants to hurt me worse than he ever has before. I can see it in his eyes.
“We’re leaving, now,” he tells me, jerking my arm to pull me tighter against his chest.
"Back the fuck up," Nick yells with enough venom to scare away a random handsy guy at a bar, but this is so much more. Ethan won’t be as easy to get rid of.
I try pushing Ethan away, but his grip tightens on my arm. He pulls me so hard behind him as he heads to the door that I lose my footing and he has to practically drag me. Nick struggles to get out of the booth behind me. I’m punching, kicking, and biting Ethan, but none of it’s working. He’s got me. He always gets me. Why did I think running away would work?
He blocks my attacks as we stumble outside. He pins me up against the side of the building, his hand immediately going to my throat, squeezing as he covers my mouth with his. I bite his lip hard enough to break skin before he pulls back and slaps me. That catches the attention of a bouncer. "What's going on?"
"He's hurting me," I whimper, pushing away from him as best as I can, using all the strength I have.
Ethan’s hand tightens around my neck again. My eyes pin shut before I hear a crack and feel Ethan’s grip on my body fall away. My eyes open again, and Michael’s standing in front of me, out of breath as he stares down at my piece of a shit ex-boyfriend.
Ethan’s back on his feet in an instant, towering over Michael as if he were a child. "I’m here to take what’s mine," Ethan growls, barely fazed by the bloody nose Michael has given him.
"You’re not taking anyone. Fuck off." Michael pushes him. The determination in his face is shocking. He’s seething with rage at what just happened. He just saved my life when he didn’t have to do a damn thing. I stagger a few steps away from Ethan, who grabs Michael’s shirt and pulls him forward to deck him in the face.
I scream, swinging my fist at Ethan. I hit him in the cheek hard enough to sting, but also hard enough to seriously hurt my hand. I hold it close to my chest as I step back again. "You need to take this somewhere else!" a bouncer shouts, finally making a move with his other bouncer friends to help us get away from this psychopath.
They swarm Michael and Ethan as an arm grabs me and pulls me away from the scene. Carrie's eyes are wide as she wraps her arm around mine. Sean shuffles over to help separate Michael from Ethan, who keeps glaring in my direction with the scariest expression I’d ever seen. What the fuck am I doing? I’m endangering these people. They don’t deserve to get thrown into this.
"Are you okay?" she whispers. My head slowly moves up and down, but she shakes hers at me, pulling me back inside.
Nick’s waiting right inside with his crutches, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. I throw myself into his arms before I can think twice. His arms wrap around me, but it’s all too much. I can’t hide it anymore. Nick knows about Ethan now. He knows about my past and what I’ve been keeping from him. He’ll be done with me when I tell him the full story, and I'd completely understand. I’m not worth all this drama.
Just as I start to cry, Nick's hugs me tighter. I gaze up at him, his eyes still filled with worry. "Leah," he says, his voice gruff and quiet. So hard to hear in the loud bar. "Who is that?"
Chapter Fourteen
Nick
Leah won’t look at me. Her eyes are red, puffy, and swollen. Tear streaks have dried on her face from the drive to the place Carrie set up for us to stay. Tonight was supposed to be a night where we would celebrate with a few fellow bands, network and hang out with people in the New Orleans scene. I was so excited for Leah to experience it, but now everything’s changed.
Leah and I shut away in a bedroom to the far end of the house as soon as we arrive, away from the shouting and drinking. The rest of our crew had already recovered from what happened back at the bar. I kept asking Leah if she was okay and if she knew who that guy was, but her only response was to keep crying. She wouldn't say anything.
I thought privacy might help her open up, which was why I locked us away so quickly. My arms are crossed over my chest as I sit in an armchair. She’s sitting on the couch and continues to look anywhere but at me. It stings. I want to help her, but I’m not sure what to do.
I lean forward, balancing my elbows on my thighs as I try catching her eye. “Leah, baby, please talk to me. You’re scaring me,” I plead with her. Her cheek still has a red mark from where he slapped her, and it makes my blood boil. Whoever he is. "Is that guy your old boyfriend?"
She finally locks eyes with me. Bingo. She nods. The small gesture hits me right in the gut at the realization I didn’t protect her from the person who had been hurting her. The person she ran from the night she showed up at my apartment covered in bruises. The one she won’t talk about, won’t even mention.
"His name’s Ethan," she breathes out, another tear falling from her eye. Seeing her like this wrecks me. A few hours ago, we were laughing and kissing and talking about the rest of the tour.
Now I don’t know what to do.
She clears her throat before she speaks again. "He has a lot of problems."
My eyebrows pull together. "Obviously. I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me anything about him. He could have really hurt you."
She covers her face with her hands, letting out a small whimper. "I was scared,” she whispers.
I join her on the couch, placing my hands on her delicate shoulders. Her hands move from her face, revealing those beautiful forest-green eyes to me. “Scared of what?”
She shakes her head. “Scared you wouldn’t want me anymore. Once you find out I’m broken.” Another tear escapes, trickling down her cheek before I catch it with my thumb and wipe it away. “I didn’t want you to see how weak I really am.”
My hands shake as I attempt to keep my grip on her shoulders light. “No. Leah, you’re not weak. Telling me would have been the right decision. We could have looked out for you. We could have called the police. We could have done something to stop him from getting his hands on you again.”
She shakes her head again. “I’m not worth all that.”
“You’re worth more than that. I’d do anything to protect you.”
Her eyes close as a few tears roll down her cheeks again. Her head shakes back and forth as she opens her mouth to give more excuses. I know what she’s going to say. She’s going to try and convince me to give up on her and move on, but I won’t do it. She needs someone who believes in her. Someone who will help her move on from the fear of her past. I want to be that someone for her. I hardly know her, but I know she deserves more than she thinks. So much more than the life she’s had.
Before she can say another word, my mouth is on hers, my arms wrapped tightly around her. She doesn’t fight me as she sinks into my arms, her hands trembling as they grip my back. She sighs as I pull back and kiss her forehead. My thumbs caress her cheeks as I kiss her eyelids, then her cheeks, then her nose, then find my way to her lips again.
She moans into my mouth, fingers curling into my shirt. One of my hands cups her face, the other sifts its way through her hair. There’s no way I can just let her go. I need her more than she needs me.
Her face pulls away from mine long enough for her to rip off her shirt. My eyebrows shoot up as she unclips her bra then throws it on the ground. Her hands go to the hem of my shirt as she whispers, "I need you," right against my mouth. I oblige, my shirt hitting the floor before I crawl on top of her.
My leg is hard to maneuver, but I don’t care. Our mouths connect like they’ll never part again. Her fingers are in my hair, my hands running up and down her body. Her hips buck against me, and I can’t stop myself from wondering if this is the right thing for us to do. We should talk, but kissing feels so much better than talking.
Actions speak louder than words, and I want to show her what it means to truly be loved. She needs to know what it feels like to be wanted without being owned and forced. She’s so much more than it seems anyone has ever let her believe, and I will do whatever it takes to make sure she knows that.
She pulls away again, her eyes glossy this time. "Please, Nick," she whispers.
She doesn’t have to say anything else as I unbutton her jeans then pull them down her legs. "Touch yourself for me," I say quietly as I fumble with my belt.
Two of her fingers plunge into her before she pulls them back out, rubbing her wetness up and down her folds. It takes me way too long to get my pants and underwear off as I stay hypnotized by the view. Her eyes clamp shut, her bottom lip pinned between her teeth.
Once my pants are finally off, I crawl back on top of her. Her eyes open again as I replace her fingers with mine. Her soft palms run up and down my chest as her hips move under my hand. Her cheeks flush, eyes glazed over, mouth parted open. She looks incredible.
"I want you," I whisper to her.
She nods. "I need you."
Repressing a groan, I adjust myself between her legs. She cups my cheeks, pulling my lips to hers. We kiss as I enter her, my fingers still pressing little circles on her clit. She gasps in my mouth as her fingers grasp at my hair. One of my arms slides under her neck as the other wraps around her back, pushing our bodies closer.
My hips grind against hers, rubbing her clit with my pelvis. She hisses into my mouth, laying her head back, moaning with her eyes closed. "Look at me," I plead with her. Her eyes flutter open as I pound harder and faster. "I'll protect you," I whisper. She nods. "No one is going to hurt you again." I can’t stop myself from saying it. "I love you. I love you so fucking much, Leah."
She smiles, then kisses me long and hard. Our bodies crash and meld together like they’re meant to be connected. Her legs wrap tight around me as I feel how wet and hot she is for me. She’s breathless as she pulls back. "Don't let me go."
My head shakes. "Never. I'll never let you go. You're mine. I love you."
"I love you," she whispers back before kissing me again. Our lips don’t disconnect again. We moan and groan into each other, gripping each other's skin hard enough to bruise. I lose myself in the sound of her gasps and the feel of her perfect body against mine.
I come so hard it hurts, opening my eyes to watch as Leah comes undone right with me. I love the way her beautiful face scrunches up, and the deep guttural groan she lets out as she thrashes underneath me. As we come down I kiss her neck, tracing my lips down to her collarbone. My lips follow a trail all over her sweaty body, down to her toes and back up. She shakes with goosebumps when my lips find hers again.
I cup her face as we stare at one another. There’s no going back for me. We didn't have sex, we didn't fuck, we made love. We confessed to each other. Everything’s different now. I know more of her past. I know I can look past it, because being with her is worth it all and more. I love her more than I ever knew possible.
She places a tentative kiss on my lips as another tear falls from her eye. I brush it away with my thumb, and she smiles. "Thank you." She sighs. Moments later, we’re kissing again.
Chapter Fifteen
Leah
My parents are terrible people who hide behind the faith of Jehovah. They used the faith as a tool to pass judgement and hatred onto others, no matter who they may be. At least that’s how I knew them to be. There were other families who attended our Kingdom Hall who were kinder, but nobody seemed to bat an eye at the obvious emotional abuse my brother and I suffered in a mobile home only a mile down the road from our place of worship.
My brother, Isaiah, was disfellowshipped at eighteen. Ten years have passed, but it still feels like it was yesterday. The memory of my brother coming home and looking grim is burned into my memory. His hands were shaking and his was voice small as he explained to my parents that his girlfriend was pregnant.
They weren't understanding or forgiving. As I watched the scene unfold, I knew Isaiah would have been better off if he hadn’t said anything. Leaving on his own terms would have been better than the shame he received from my parents as they kicked him out and publicly ridiculed him. He’d given me one sorrowful look as I watched from the window before he turned around and left.
We never saw or heard from him again.
I wasn’t sure how, but I knew they were wrong. I knew they found joy in judging others because their records weren’t squeaky clean either.
I knew the way my father found the faith was during his lowest point in life. He'd screwed over every person he knew with his horrific drug addiction. He found Jehovah when he woke up on the sidewalk one morning. Someone was handing him a five-dollar bill and an invitation to service. He went in and never looked back, thinking his second chance made him somehow better than everyone around him.
My mother was raised with my grandfather’s interpretation of the faith, never questioning the twisted morals he put on her. All were evil. All were sinners. The bullcrap my grandpa spouted all throughout my childhood was hard to forget. Their combined judgment and entitlement was enough to push me away.
Event
ually it did drive me away—straight into the arms of Ethan Webb. When he turned out not to be who I thought, I was already disfellowshipped. My parents and old friends wouldn't speak to me. I had no other choice but to stay with Ethan.
I had no family. No education. No friends. No anything.
And yet, somehow, the universe brought me Nick Sharp. Right now, I found solace in his arms as we lay in that back bedroom, but I know it could only ever be temporary. We both lay side-by-side, staring up at the ceiling as we catch our breath. My mind rolls over the confessions we made to one another, and all it does is hurt my heart, a deep pain spreading through my body.
Yes, Nick is genuine. He’s a good man with a stable family and future ahead of him. I can’t hold him back. There’s no point in sticking around when I know one day he'll find out what happened to his leg. If that doesn’t turn him off me, Ethan’s persistence eventually would. He'll eventually hurt one of them, and I can’t have that. I can’t take that risk. I need to leave.
Nick's lips meet my forehead as he rubs my back and shoulders. My arm around his torso tightens. I don’t want this moment to end.
"You're so quiet," he comments, insecurity laced in his voice. "Are you okay?"
I nod quickly, wanting to continue to lay here in silence. I’m not okay. Sure, Nick loves me, and we made love, and he’s the most amazing person I've ever met, but it’s too good to be true. We have an ending point, and I can feel it coming.
"Baby," he whispers, his thumb now brushing my cheek. My eyes trail up to his as he stares into mine. "What's wrong?"
Shaking my head, I force myself to smile and wrap my arms around his neck to kiss him again. We kiss, and his lips are so soft and perfect. It’s going to be so hard to do what I have to do.
I have to get my life together. I can’t depend on him to pick up the pieces. This relationship will fail so quickly it'll ruin me.
Once our lips pull apart, he smiles. "I wrote some lyrics to our song," he tells me.