Blank Canvas

by Coopmans, Kathy

  “I’ve lived days and years beating myself up for not being able to save her. Clara was the light in our family. Saxon and I were always by her side. Protecting her from harm while she took care of us. She was the only woman who could keep us in line until she died. Our lives ended that day. Tore a piece of our souls out. Those pieces will never be replaced. Her lifeless and beaten body was still found dead.” I gulp in enough oxygen to power on my words. “I won’t lie, Amelia. The day I saw you lying in that alleyway, it took me straight back to that day and the events that shaped my life after it. Me joining the military and Saxon finding the motorcycle club. You brought it all back to me, but then the joke was still on me, because you brought so much more into my life. You taught me how to live. And for what it’s worth, which to me is everything, my sister is happy for me now. She’s up there smiling, because she knows as well as I do that I have fallen for a woman who loves me for me and I love her for her. Love is complicated. It’s hard, and we are going to have more trying times than we will know what to do with. But a love like ours, one that started out as a friendship and built on trust, that kind of love can never be broken.”

  I pull the gem-encrusted watch from the box. It matches mine perfectly but in the feminine aspect. I bring her wrist to my lips and gently kiss her tender skin before clipping the watch around her wrist.

  I point to the bright blue gems. “These remind me of you. The color that lights up your eyes. That blue that lives in my dreams and fuels my life. It’s you, Bluebird.”

  I pause then tap on one of the light blue gems nestled between diamonds. “This is Clara. She brought me to you. If you chose to wear this and come back to me, she’ll always be a part of us.”

  That last part does me in. My words start coming out in choked sobs, hurting my head. I gave her everything in every sense from my words. I laid out all my demons and intentions. Now I can only hope she won’t run away from me again. Amelia is silent for a long time. Her fingers skimming over the piece of jewelry. Stopping when she comes to the stones. Staring down at them. Thinking. Remembering only God knows what. I pray to the same God she’s soaking my words in. That they are hitting the center of her chest.

  I notice when her fingers start trembling and a tear drops from her eyes.

  “Bluebird, talk to me.” I lean in and kiss the side of her face. Wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. She looks beautiful, yet she looks scared, too. “Say something, Amelia.”

  Her wet eyes look up at me. They break me down. Shame is written all over her tortured face. My heart drops.

  “Your watch,” she whispers.

  “Yes, they match. A reminder of our bond.” I’m a smart man, but right now, I am confused as fuck wondering where she’s going with this.

  “No. That’s not it. Not what I mean.” Her voice is harsh and angry.

  She begins rolling the watch around her slim wrist. Growing more agitated with each movement.

  Her eyes fire to life. A blinding light switches on behind them. “I fell in love with you in the hospital because of your watch.” She isn’t making any sense to me.

  I bite down on the inside of my cheek to not assault her with questions, and even more of all the okays and we will get through this. I doubt any of those words could come out if I tried. So, I do the only thing I can. I sit here and wait for the courage I know she has to tell me what she means.

  “I used to stare at that fucking watch when you’d take women into the restaurant.”

  Hearing her drop the F-bomb and speak so brazenly makes me thankful we are all alone in the museum after hours, giving us the world to let our emotions and feelings to spill over. Not going to lie to myself, either. Hearing her say she watched me with other women from her shadow in hell hurts. I turned a blind eye to knowing she was there.

  “That watch of yours kept me alive another day, because I thought if I could only get it off your wrist, I could get high for a good month. I needed, craved, and yearned for that ticking I swear I could hear only to get high. My first memory in the hospital was you at my bedside and the watch. I knew I had to keep you close and get my hands on your watch. Then everything happened so fast. I ended up in rehab with a perfect face and endless options ahead of me.” Amelia pauses, sinking to her knees in front of me. I try to pull her up, but she refuses. Her skin on the marble floor, her palms planted on top of my legs, and those blue eyes pleading up at me. I can’t fucking move.

  “I was addicted to everything that made me numb, and sex was the ticket. I came on to Ronan. He refused, but I didn’t stop, and the whole time I thought that if I had that watch, it would solve all my problems until the money ran out and I’d find the next guy with a watch. I was obsessed, sick, and haunted. It’s the reason I’ve always touched the watch mindlessly, because I don’t want it anymore. It’s my silent alarm never to step backward. It was my anchor. I can’t go on without you. I’m sick, Zeke, and always will be. There’s no excuse for any of it. I don’t deserve your gift.”

  My heart cracks and shatters. I’d really thought not having this woman in my life for three days was the worst possible scenario, but after experiencing the silence before the storm I know I was completely wrong in every possible way, Amelia on her knees before me with her pleading eyes focused on me while she bears her soul to me is my final cracking point.

  “You’re healing, but you sure the hell aren’t sick. You’ll be an addict the rest of your life whether it be basketball or art. You will always be addicted. We all have addictions, Amelia. You deserve the power to choose them.”

  This is not how I pictured this night would end. What I’m about to do, it’s the only thing I can think of to give her that choice. Not one person on this planet has given her that power. Yes, she has a tight circle of friends, and even though we fought to not shelter her, we have.

  This woman before me must fly. The world is her destination to pick from. The world is hers, and I’m okay with that. Never thought I’d be man enough to do this, but it’s time for Amelia to finally fly on her own.

  I unclasp the watch from my wrist, not ignoring the fact she watches my every move. I hold it in front of her, and when she doesn’t open her palm, I take her hand in mine and place it in hers.

  “I’d give you the world, Amelia. Everything. This is yours, and now you have a watch on your wrist worth double the one I just placed in your hand. It’s all yours.” I swallow down the tears to get the rest out. Nobody said it was easy. “I love you. Never thought a love like ours existed. You know where home is. You have the world now. It’s time to fly, Bluebird.”

  I stand, pausing briefly before I stride out of the museum. I call one cab for me and one for Amelia, giving the cab company my credit card number. Fuck, they could run my accounts dry, and I’d be fine with it as long as her choice is me.

  I’ve learned over the past months that life has different paths for all of us, and I’d never push mine on anyone else.

  I leave the museum without a doubt in my mind that she’ll make the right choice.

  23

  Amelia

  His scent lingers long after he’s gone. My kneecaps are numb while my skin prickles. He gave me the world, stood up, and left. I have that damn watch in my palm. The one thing I craved to get my next high. Zeke gave it to me and left.

  His words were brash but not cruel. It was the glimmer in his eyes that told me he trusted my decision. He wants me to make my it on my own. To see if our love is stronger than my addiction. The underlying tone in his words. Trust.

  I have no idea how long I stay on the floor before my spine begins to grow numb. I manage to get up to my feet and sit on the bench, immediately missing him sitting by my side. I stare at the painting and see the whole circle come to life once again. I was blank once and now I’m not at all. My world is full of color and the choices in front of me to be made.

  I stand up and inch closer and closer until the tip of my nose nearly grazes the canvas. The artwork circling in my mind. My
eyes scanning until everything clicks. It all comes together. I bend, look down, and gasp.

  Amelia Moore.

  I jump back clutching my chest. I’m taken back to the night Zeke gave me my future in the form of my art room. Endless hours spent in the studio brushing all the hues on canvases. It was all the blank ones that drew me in. Then I look closer, and I realize the artwork is a collage of all my work in the form of abstracts. Pieces of sunsets, pools, and everything else thrown together, creating the perfect abstract piece.

  There’s a pixel effect to the side with colors, which makes everything come full circle for my time with Zeke. I clutch his watch tighter in my grip. The name should read Zeke Hartley under the piece of art. Not mine. It’s clear he took the photo to give to someone to put together this piece. He believed in me. So obsessed with my talent and his love for me that he did this. I didn’t even realize all these paintings were gone. “Oh, my God.”

  I clutch tighter to the watch in my palm. The harsh metal slicing into my skin. I have it. I have him. He gave it all just like he promised. This is so hard to understand, but I do. The cold metal that warms instantly to my touch burns my skin. I rise slowly, knowing exactly where this lustrous watch belongs, and it’s not with me.

  My feet scramble, the high heels upon my feet knowing their destination, each clattering sound leading me toward home. They all say it’s the rush before the high, but I beg to differ; it’s your next flight to fly.

  The evening air is still and void of any life when I rush outside. The cold metal is piercing into my skin, and that’s when I know where home is.

  “Ma’am. Are you Amelia Moore?”

  I jump out of my skin at the calling of my name by a man getting out of a cab. I clutch the watch to my chest. My heart is beating so fast.

  “A man named Zeke Hartley called in and made it perfectly clear that whoever came here was to wait for you,” he says politely.

  “How long have you been waiting?” My heart is still pounding. It’s pounding hard for a different reason. Zeke didn’t up and leave me here. He sent someone to bring me home.

  “About a half hour.” He opens the door; I slide in and catch my breath.

  “Please take me home and hurry.”

  I fidget as I sit inside the cab. My hand still rolling over the smooth, warm metal.

  “Home sounds nice.” The cab driver settles behind the wheel. “But I’m going to need an address.”

  I rattle it off like it’s second nature, even shocking myself to know it so well. It’s like it’s been written on my heart for years. The cab ride blurs by quickly but not fast enough.

  The house is dark, and yet I feel him here with each inhale of oxygen and step I take. I drop my bag on the table by the door, slip my shoes off, and make my way to him while rolling his watch over in my hand.

  My heart isn’t pounding anymore. It’s ticking away at a steady rhythm. Moving in sync with time. Zeke and me. We have so much time. I’m not wasting any more of it. I’ve flown and landed.

  “Zeke.” I stand at the end of the couch.

  He’s sitting there with a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He doesn’t drink much. I’m sure it has to do with me. That doesn’t matter. I’ve put the man through hell and back on the journey of finding myself.

  “I have something that belongs to you.” I kneel down before him once again. Open my palm and show him.

  It’s a degrading act to be on my knees in front of a man who is powerful. Not with Zeke. Never with him. It empowers me from the core to be on my knees in front of him, never fearing one single thing.

  He doesn’t say a word. I raise his hand that’s resting on his knee. Place the watch right where it belongs and press his hand to the middle of my chest. There are so many words that need to be spoken, but none of them come as I watch the emotions play out on his face. Our love is stronger than those words. Soars higher than any emotion.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you for giving me the world and letting me fly. It’s always been you.” My palms connect on the top of his thighs. I need to touch him.

  He moves fast, picking me up from the floor and settling me in his lap. His large hands cup the sides of my cheeks. His silence would make me nervous on any other given day, but right now it means so much.

  Our lips meet in a promising kiss. It ends all too soon, leaving me wanting more. I’m always wanting more with this man. I realize right now that I’m not addicted to Zeke. It’s more than that. It’s one word I never understood until he gave it to me. Love.

  “You came home,” he whispers.

  “Always,” I reply. “I’ll always find my way back to you, Zeke. In words differently put than yours but meaning the same thing. Life is gray and murky without you. I need color. My color is you.”

  He smirks. “And someone to beat in a game of hoops?”

  “Always someone to beat in a game of hoops.” I smile against his lips.

  I’m flipped over in a flash, my back pressed into the couch, my legs spreading for my man. My man. The two sweetest words I never thought would grace my thoughts. Zeke takes his time slipping my dress over my head and peeling away my panties and bra. He doesn’t ravage me like he has so many times before but takes his time drinking me in. His fingers tracing around the watch on my wrist. Up my arms and across my collarbone. I shiver.

  “I need to touch you. To feel your skin up against mine,” I say, lightly pushing him off of me so I can get what I want. I do the same thing he did to me. Admire every inch of him as he loses his clothes one piece at a time. Leaving us naked with only our watches on. I’m not invisibly numb anymore. I’m visible. He sees me and makes me feel alive.

  “I never did say thank you, Zeke.”

  His finger comes down on my lips, hushing me. “You came home to me. I got my thank you, and you also gave me the other thing that was mine. You.”

  His large body falls down on me, caging me underneath him, shielding me from the world. I’m not scared nor frightened.

  Our kisses are not hurried or filled with passion for the needy desire to get the other to orgasm. We take our time learning every single thing about each other all over again.

  Our flesh pressing against each other, Zeke enters me slowly. I brand it to my memory, never wanting to forget this moment. No, it’s not our first time, but it’s the most important time. We both let our fears and anxiety fly out the window. Tonight, we shared everything, and it wasn’t just me opening up this time; it was both of us.

  We found each other tonight in the middle of a storm. Two lost souls seeking so much more. The connection is sweeter than the nectar of any God.

  The slow burn of him working inside of me with each thrust warms me head to toe. He’s so deep he leaves his own personal brand on me. I’m his. Tears form at the corner of my eyes, and I’m okay with crying. It’s the raw feeling of life that makes me feel alive.

  There are no moans or cries of ecstasy as our bodies move in unison. It’s still and quiet with the only sound of our skin connecting. But I feel him. With each deep thrust he makes. Each pull out and each press in.

  My hands wrap tightly around his neck, pulling him closer to me even though the feat is impossible. The feeling of being trapped under this man is all mine and always will be.

  It’s not until Zeke lets out a low growl that I realize how close I am to letting go. One, two, three...he growls again, his dick pulsing deep inside of me. Four, five, six.

  “I’m going to come, Amelia.”

  Seven, eight, nine. My sex is clenching his cock so hard I see bright lights as we fall together spiraling in our pleasure of love.

  “I counted,” I whispered.

  “What?” He doesn’t move his head from the crook of my neck. His warm breath alerting all of my senses.

  “I used to count, Zeke. It numbed the pain. It was my escape.”

  He still doesn’t move.

  “I just counted, and it never felt greater.”

  His
tongue runs a line from my jawbone up to the shell of my ear. “I counted each miserable fucking second when you weren’t in my life.”

  “Me, too,” I whisper.

  “I’m sorry and thank you for coming back. You will always be everything to me, Amelia; I’ll show you every single day just how much for the rest of my life.”

  “Me, too,” I reply.

  * * *

  “Would you stop fidgeting.” I vaguely remember those same words spoken to me not too long ago from Ronan.

  I’m standing here once again holding an envelope in my hands. Another piece of my life that I was too scared and broken to accomplish.

  “Give me that damn thing.” Zeke reaches for the envelope. Just like basketball, my hands are quicker than his.

  “No. I’m opening it,” I say, pretending to give him the evil eye.

  I rip the white paper open. The plastic card falls down to the floor. I stare, my eyes swelling with tears as I look at the tiny picture of myself staring back at me. All the happiness shining back at me thanks to Zeke.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. She has her driver's license. Look out, LA.” Zeke chuckles, bends down, and hands me my license. I flip it over in my hands. A smile spreading so wide I swear I feel my cheekbones crack.

  “Watch out, Target and Starbucks. This girl has a license and isn’t afraid to use it.” He cups his junk just adding to the horrific punch line of his joke.

  It’s dumb but too damn funny not to laugh. It’s how we have filled our days with all the layers peeled away. We gave each other our all, and now we get to reap the benefits.

  “I’m smiling.” I still realizing all the things so many people take for granted. “And look at this. There’s an address on it, too.”

  Of course, I knew there would be. I also knew I passed. So much has changed after the night almost a month ago when he gave me my watch. Over thirty days to relish and fly away. He gave me the ability to fly, and that’s what I’ve done. I took a ten-day class to get my license. Finished up what needed to be done for the ball and let the colors fly across the canvas.