River's Heart

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River's Heart Page 13

by Shayne Ford


  She turns her back to me, her silence pissing me off even more.

  “You wanted me to fuck you? Is that it? You could’ve come to me and ask me. There was no need to involve her. Or, did you want to put her in my bed, so that you could erase your guilt for the fact that we fucked behind her back? Which one is it?”

  “I want... I wanted more,” she mumbles without turning to me.

  “What more? What exactly did you want, Thalia? ”

  She finally turns to me, her face wet with tears.

  “What? Just say it!”

  “I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at Layla. Instead, you looked at Cassie that way.”

  “Oh, my fucking God! You’re not serious, are you?”

  I step closer to her, so close she shudders in fear. I lift her chin up and look deep into her eyes.

  “I looked at you like that. Remember?”

  She moves her gaze away from me and starts sobbing again.

  “Not like that... you didn’t,” she mutters.

  What the hell is she talking about?

  I pull away from her.

  Exasperated, I look around, and take a deep breath, trying to keep my anger under control.

  She fucking lost it.

  And I finally realize why this would’ve never worked. Between her and me. I feel bad for her. And I feel bad for Cassie.

  She probably does that to her a lot. Swinging back and forth, never sure of what she wants, or who she wants. Incapable of making up her mind, and always wanting things she doesn’t have, and then, once she has them, ditching them for other things that fancy her imagination.

  Sadness crawls up on me. I feel as if someone I knew and loved a long time ago, just passed away.

  My stomach curls in pain.

  “I can’t fucking do this, Thalia. I’m done. Take some time off, go home to Idaho. I don’t know. You need to clear your head.”

  “I’m sorry, River,” she utters between sobs.

  “Me, too... I need you to go now.”

  She doesn’t budge.

  She waits, hoping that I would say something else, and change my mind perhaps. I can no longer look at her. I rush out the kitchen, grab my car keys and slither out of my house.

  Moments later, I jump into my car and drive away.

  One more day.

  Today is the last show. I go through the motions, my mind empty. I’ve performed so many times, no one can tell if my heart is there or not, and nobody can see how fucked up I am or feel the fucking blizzard that’s been blowing in my soul.

  It’s been six fucked up months. All this time, I’ve never dealt with my emotions. I froze a fucking storm inside me the day Layla ran out of my hotel room. I fear the day this monster will begin to thaw.

  Three months I haven’t touched a woman. I thought that something needed to be learned. For that to happen, I needed my mind clear, since my heart was broke and useless.

  In the end, I didn’t learn much. I still don’t understand why she couldn’t listen to her heart. I know less about her now, than I knew when I held her in my arms.

  As time passed by, I wondered why she couldn’t find the courage to talk to me that night. How could she forget the way I loved her and the time we spent together?

  For another three months, I went back to my old ways and steered away from women like her. I didn’t want to open the door to the memory of her.

  That memory is still wrapped in that crippling pain that blows so cold in my heart.

  Was she just another illusion? Were her words nothing but her lies to herself, empty vessels for a fickle heart? Were they born in a spur of the moment, fueled by her lust for me and nothing else? Was I blind? Stupid? Was I wrong?

  I’ve never heard from her since that night, and as much as I wanted to call her, I knew it wouldn’t fix a thing. I could’ve gotten her back, but mistrust would’ve hovered over us. Eventually, we would’ve found ourselves in one of those messed up relationships, and it would’ve ended anyway.

  In the end, she made it her call after all.

  And yet... I can’t stop thinking about her. I wonder what happened to her. Has she moved on? Has she traded love for certainty in the arms of another man?

  Was I such a fool, to believe that her heart belonged to me?

  It pains me to admit that I may have fallen for an illusion. She may have been nothing but a girl, too scared to love, too frightened to be with a man, a broken soul crawling for safety, denying her heart.

  I really don’t know where to go from here. I had high hopes that the passage of time would bring me some answers. Sadly, the more time had passed, the harder it was to make sense of any of this.

  One thing I know, my heart still bleeds.

  I left the stage tonight happy, not because the show was great, but because somehow, I managed to survive these six months without a major meltdown.

  There’s a big party tonight, but I’ll pass on this one.

  Hotel rooms were made available to us, myself included, and there’s a reason for that, but I’m hardly in the mood. As soon as we wrap it up, I’ll head straight home.

  As if it’s not bad enough, this is the same place where I picked her up last year, just another reason to get out of there early.

  Ron runs a small celebratory ceremony in his room. We’re loud and rowdy. We laugh. I’m flushed and sweaty from the show. A shirt clings to my shoulders, open. I grab a cold beer and plop onto the couch.

  I think I hear someone knocking on the door. The noise makes it hard to hear.

  A louder knock drifts through the air. One of the sound guys opens the door. I glance in that direction and spot Steve.

  He sticks his head inside, his eyes scanning the room. He motions to me, his lips pulled into a mysterious smile.

  Curious, I push up to my feet, and stride to the door.

  “Someone is waiting for you,” he says secretively.

  It feels rather personal. It must be someone we both know.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he says and walks away.

  I crane my neck out glancing across the hallway.

  My heart stops. The door at my room is wide open, a woman standing in the doorway.

  Wrapped in a soft coat, hands tucked in her pockets, hair cascading over her shoulders, eyes brimming with fire, and lips curled into a warm smile, Layla stands there... waiting for me.

  My mind halts for a moment, my smile freezing across my lips. She tilts her head to the side and gives me an affectionate grin.

  I sink my gaze into her eyes, and love is all I find. Her love for me, intact, untouched or spoiled by another man.

  I’d like to rejoice, close the distance between us, and pull her in my arms. Bury my face in her hair, and taste her lips.

  I’d love to be able to do all that and feel whole again. Give her my love, and taste hers.

  But that is no longer possible.

  I shut the door to Ron’s room, and walk across the hallway, my smile dead on my face. As I stride to her, I feel a snap inside me as if a dam broke. The pain is so fierce, I almost lose my breath.

  My heart leaps to my throat, my lungs craving more air while my teeth start gritting. The ice begins to thaw, the vortex of emotions twirling, vile and dark.

  Her smile vanishes as her eyes widen, horrified.

  She steps backward and stumbles against the wall while I push inside and slam the door with such force a paint falls from the wall.

  I lock the door, my heart jolting in my chest.

  She looks at me frightened.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Layla??” I thunder.

  Glued to the wall, she shudders in fear.

  “Huh? Why are you here??”

  I look at her, searching for clues, eager to understand. Frozen, she stares at me, unable to respond.

  “Answer me!!” I bark.

  With one flick of my hand, I sling the bottle across the room.

  It shatters
against the wall, beer and broken glass littering the floor.

  A knock on the door breaks the silence.

  “Go the fuck away!” I bark, almost throwing my lungs out of my chest.

  I turn back to her, panting and shaking as if I lost my mind. I swing my arm again, my fist crashing into the wall.

  My hand hurts, and yet it’s nothing more than an abstract thought. I slap my hands on either side of her head and rumble again.

  “Why are you back, Layla?? Tell me. I’m dying to hear...”

  She shivers and evades my eyes, her tears rushing down her face. The more I see of her, the angrier I become.

  I glance down.

  She wears a light trench and most likely one of those cock swelling little dresses underneath. She’s back to be fucked.

  My heart twists in pain. I look up, and she lowers her gaze.

  “Look at me!!!” I shout.

  Face drenched in tears, she doesn’t move.

  I erase the little space between us, my nostrils flaring as her scent enters my lungs, my body tingling as her warmth rolls over my skin.

  Inches away from her lips, I breathe into her, my voice hoarse, frayed by anger.

  “I’m listening... I want to know why you’re back, looking for me.”

  “I...”

  More tears trickle down, leaving wet trails on her coat.

  “Yes?”

  Tilting my head down, I try to catch her gaze. She pushes her chin further down.

  My hands slap the wall again.

  “Answer me!”

  Before a pause that feels like an eternity, she finally speaks.

  “Because I love you,” she says softly.

  “You what?!”

  I pull away from her, zapped by more anger. Of all the words... I run my hand through my hair, staring at her.

  I can’t fucking believe it.

  “You’re kidding, right? This is a joke...Tell me that it’s a fucking joke!!”

  “No, it’s not a joke,” she mutters.

  In one leap, I’m back near her, and slam my hands against the wall, caging her between my arms.

  “Louder!!”

  “It’s not a fucking joke!!” she screams, her voice drowning in tears.

  My heart hurts. I want to believe her. I really do, but other than the excruciating pain, I can’t feel anything right now.

  There’s nothing good left in me, nothing I can feel with. Nothing. And I know this will not end well. I know I spin out of control. I know I should stop and let her go, but I can’t. Because I don’t know how to stop this.

  Tears pool in my eyes.

  “You know, Layla... For you... like most people... it’s only a fucking word. You have no fucking idea how to love, little girl.”

  “I didn’t know then...” she says.

  “Oh, you didn’t know then... I see. And now you do. Why can’t you tell me that you love me looking straight into my eyes?”

  She looks up at me, her eyes drowning in tears, her lips trembling, silent.

  “Say it!!”

  “I love you!!”

  The words spin out of her, shouting her desperation.

  She looks away, again, and I grip her chin and force my gaze into her eyes.

  “Then why can’t you fucking trust me, Layla? Huh?” I growl as I pull my phone out of my pocket.

  Her tears slide onto my fingers.

  “Is this why you left me?” I ask, pushing my phone in her face.

  She blanches.

  The next moment, my phone flies off my hand as I hurl it against the wall. It tips a vase off a table, both landing on the floor.

  “I asked you to trust me. Didn’t I? Yes, I did. But it didn’t matter to you. You fell for each and every stupid cliche. You could’ve asked me anything, but no, no... You didn’t or you couldn’t. Either way, it doesn’t make a damn difference... Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what your reasons were. I thought you were different. As it turned out, you were nothing but a fucking coward. You would’ve left me anyway... For one reason or another. You didn’t love me, Layla. You don’t have the heart to love me with...”

  My pain seeps into her, wrapping her in my misery, rendering her eyes lifeless, making her lips shrink in sadness.

  “I do have a heart...” she says, her words coming out as a faltering whisper.

  “Oh... You do? Is that’s why you’re here? Or is it...?”

  I study her for a split second before I slide my hand under her belt, yank her coat open, drape it off her shoulders, and throw it to the floor.

  I run my eyes down on her. The dog tag that I gave her sits on her chest. I want to laugh my ass off. It means nothing. Nothing.

  My gaze slips further down.

  I was fucking right. Wrapped in a little red dress that molds on her chest and her hips, she’s here for one thing only. That’s what brought her back. That’s what gave her the courage and patience to put up with me, to tolerate my screaming.

  My lips curl into a bitter smile. How stupid of me to believe she was ever mine. I loved her with all my heart, and now I have nothing to love her with. I wanted her to stay, and make her mine, but none of that happened.

  I run my hand on her, and touch her breasts, and then I ride her dress up and slip my fingers between her thighs.

  I gently touch her panties. I trace her slit.

  She doesn’t move. She doesn’t say a word. A slap would be in order, but she doesn’t do it. She’s too turned on. I stare at her, suffocated by my sadness.

  Didn’t I say it? As long as she longed for me, she’d come back to me… Looking to get her fix.

  In one swift motion, I slam my body against hers and crash with her into the wall.

  My hand curls around her neck, my fingers slipping in her panties, diving into a pool of wetness.

  Her body jerks, a moan jamming in her throat. I brush her lips with mine and slowly stroke her.

  “Is this the kind of love you came here for?” I ask quietly as I slide my fingers in and out of her, her core already clenching.

  “No,” she whimpers before her voice breaks into a moan.

  “Oh, yes... I think it is.”

  I move deeper and work her just the way she likes it. Her eyes turn hazy, her body starting to shudder. She’d like to suppress her reaction, and yet she can’t, and as I see her struggle, my eyes sting from tears.

  “Oh, yeah... You haven’t thought about this, have you? You thought it would go away. You thought you could forget. But the crave came back to you... And there was not a damn thing you could do. That’s why you’re here... That’s why you didn’t let go of me... But see, this is not love, little girl.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “What’s not true, baby? You don’t want me to fuck you?” I sneer.

  “I do...”

  “You do? Was that all it was? You liked the way we fucked...?”

  “It wasn’t only that. I never lied to you, River. I do have a heart...”

  “Maybe you do... but it was never mine...”

  Sadness washes over me as I keep stroking her, feeling her body ready for me, and mine already hungry for hers, and yet my heart is empty.

  A pang of conscience screams at me to pull back, and leave her alone, but my emotions are way stronger than that.

  “Stop me, Layla,” I murmur, right on the cusp of falling into the darkness.

  I look at her, my eyes swimming in tears.

  “Stop me... please,” I say softly.

  Her eyes dart back and forth, sparkling with tears as well. She ponders for a few moments, and the more she thinks about it, the sadder her eyes.

  Her lips quiver, wet with tears.

  “I can’t. I don’t want to stop you... ”

  I study her for a moment, a flicker of hope shining through the madness, and then it all fades away. With it goes anything that could pull me back.

  With one flick of hand, I yank the necklace from her neck and throw it away. And then I cur
l my fingers inside her dress and rip it off her. She screams out of her mind before I seize her mouth and crush her body against the wall.

  I thrust my tongue between her lips. She swirls her tongue with mine, and it feels as if we gulp water after being stranded in a desert.

  We fall into each other, bleeding and hurting, relishing that deep bond that we so much missed.

  It’s bittersweet. It’s raw and painful. It’s dark, and it hurts like hell, but it’s the only place where we can meet right now.

  She pulls my shirt off.

  “I fucking knew it,” I breathe into her.

  Crazed, she pulls me to her, and I press into her, full and hard. Hungrily, we kiss, as if nothing else has ever happened.

  Her kisses trail down my chest, my abs, and there’s a reason she’s so impatient. She’s too hungry and too afraid I could change my mind. She wants to take me in that place where she can have me once again.

  Propping my hands against the wall, I watch her going down on me. Curling her fingers around me, she runs her tongue and lips on my shaft as she pulls me into her mouth.

  She groans. I growl.

  Nothing has changed. If anything, the sensations are stronger and wilder, making it so easy to lose myself in her.

  I pull her up. Unable to look into her eyes, I swivel her to face the wall. Hooking my fingers inside her panties, I tear the fabric off.

  Smoothly, I angle her hips and enter her. Her body jolts, her nails digging into the wall as her inside throbs, clamping on me. She comes without the slightest noise as soon as I bury myself in her.

  I start to pound her, numb.

  My body revs up, famished for her, my heart weeping, so cold and hollow. I can’t feel a fucking thing. It’s like riding with her over a cliff.

  I wish I could stop everything, but I can’t. I wish I could turn back time, but that’s not possible. I wish I would've been strong enough to send her home instead of pinning her on this wall and hammer her, and yet here I am with her in my arms.

  And above all, I wish I could get my heart back, but that’s no longer possible either, because, like a fool, I gave it to this girl, who’s not a woman yet.

 

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