Fighting Absolution

by Kate McCarthy

  Kyle is moving inside me, the warm glow of the fairy lights casting shadows across his face. I touch a hand to his chest as if making sure this is real and not a dream. His heart pounds an erratic beat beneath my fingers, his breath uneven.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he tells me, looking down at me as if I hung the moon.

  My eyes well with tears, and I don’t know why. I’m suddenly overwhelmed—a wild jumble of emotion swamping me something fierce.

  Kyle falters. “Jamie?”

  The tears spill over, falling down the sides of my face. “Don’t stop.”

  He pauses inside me, his eyes troubled. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I rock my hips upward, urging him to move, the jerky thrust causing pleasure to spike beneath my skin. “God, Kyle. Please. Don’t stop.” I wipe at my cheeks and snake a hand around his neck, pulling his face down to mine. I kiss him, driving my hips into his, mashing my mouth against his until I feel nothing else. No one else. Just Kyle. “Please,” I beg against his lips, my hands clutching at his back, fingers digging in, desperate for friction.

  “Fuck,” he mutters, his voice gravel. He pulls out and punches back in. Again and again. I moan, delirious and shaky, my legs locking around his hips as pleasure builds. My heart is jackhammering in my chest. Strands of my hair cling to my sweaty neck. Every sensation is heightened, every breath harder to take.

  Then I’m coming, my eyes squeezing closed, wild vivid colours bursting behind my lids. Kyle sweeps me up in his arms. For a moment I’m weightless, and then he’s seated on his knees with me straddling him. Thick biceps wrap around me, clutching me to him, one arm wrapping around my shoulders, the other around my lower back as he anchors me in place.

  He thrusts upward, holding me tight, rutting into me with powerful force. It’s rough and intense and drives every thought from my head as I ride out the storm, pleasure crashing over me like waves against the shore.

  Kyle’s lips find mine, kissing me as his body goes hard. He groans into my mouth, rocking and straining, every muscle rigid as he comes.

  His forehead presses to mine, and I can feel the pulse of him inside me, the jerks of his cock, the hammering of his heart from inside his chest. His eyes are closed while I look at him, swallowing, knowing this is only temporary. There’s no future for us. Just like Jake, Kyle is someone never meant to be mine, and the thought breaks something inside me.

  We live two separate lives. We want different things. And there’s no bridging the gap between the two. He wants a family, and a house on the beach, and someone who’ll love him the way he should be loved. Kyle deserves the world and I can’t give it to him. I clutch his shoulders and blink against the burning in my eyes.

  “That was …” He trails off as if he can’t find the words. His arms slowly wind their way around my back, and he hugs me to him, holding on so tight I can barely breathe.

  “Hot?” I suggest, forcing a teasing tone into the word.

  His lips tilt in a boyish grin that hits every nerve inside my body. “Really fucking hot.”

  Kyle pulls out with a slow groan and gets to his feet, holding his palm out towards me. I shouldn’t take it, but I do anyway. Tonight I’m going to pretend he’s mine and that nothing else matters.

  His fingers tighten around my hand, and he pulls me to my feet. He tugs me down to the beach. It’s dark out but we hear a few faint whoops in the distance. “Kyle, people can see us.”

  “We’re too far away to see much,” he tells me, leading me into the water. The surf is bitingly cold, setting off goose bumps across my skin. He lets me go, and I tie my hair into a knot on my head, not wanting to sleep with it wet. “They’re probably drunk anyway.”

  “Drunk maybe, but not blind.”

  Kyle hooks a foot around my ankle, and I go down before I can blink, crashing into the water. “There,” he says, laughing when my head bobs up, hands wiping at my spluttering face. “Now they can’t see you.”

  “You!” I sputter, checking my hair. I didn’t go all the way under so it’s mostly dry.

  I kick out and he goes under mid-laugh. He comes up choking and coughing.

  “Ha!”

  Considering myself rinsed, I stalk from the ocean, shivering, my feet splashing through the shallow waves. Kyle lets out a wolf whistle, the sound piercing and loud. I turn, not caring about being naked in front of him. His eyes are on me like I’m steak and he hasn’t eaten for days, and it feels good to be wanted. It makes me quiver and tingle and sets off a steady throb of heat between my legs.

  Not that I’m telling him that. Instead, I tease him by raising my arms and flipping him the middle finger with both hands.

  “Oh you’re gonna get it so bad,” he growls, lunging from the ocean.

  My pulse skyrockets. I turn, actually squealing like a little girl as I run for the tent.

  Kyle grabs me from behind before I make it. My limbs flail, kicking out as he swings me up and inside the tent. Damn him and his Usain Bolt legs. He tosses me onto the airbed. I land in the middle, bouncing once, twice.

  I rise up on my elbows, and he drops down over the top of me, shaking his head like a dog. Water flies everywhere. “Kyle!”

  “What?” He smirks. “I thought you liked being wet.”

  I gasp. “You’re so dirty.”

  “You love it.” Kyle dips his head and kisses me. I moan into his mouth, and my arms slide over his back and down, grabbing his ass cheeks as his tongue moves with mine.

  “Again?” I gasp against his lips when the heat of his cock, now hard and erect, presses into my belly.

  “You think once was enough?”

  I wake in the morning, the sun high in the sky, warming one side of the tent. I shift my thighs, sore, an ache inside that wants more. My cheeks heat as last night tumbles through my mind.

  “Ride me, Jamie,” Kyle had begged after I used my mouth and tongue, teasing him until he reached his limit.

  Those words. Lust flared like a lit match, so bright it blocked out every other thought in my head. I gave him a final lick before straddling his hips, positioning his cock and lowering myself down until I was full. There was a brief sense of relief until need hit me harder and hotter than before.

  Kyle’s hips surged upward, meeting me on the down stroke. So hot. It was so hot. My hair tumbled from its knot, and he fisted it, dragging me down and kissing me with wild abandon.

  I turn my head, pushing last night from my head. Kyle is sleeping, one arm thrown across my middle, a casual proprietary gesture. His eyes open slowly as he wakes.

  He looks at me for an endless minute, his eyes searching my face, waiting. I give him nothing because I’m lost. I took something I wanted last night, damning the consequences, and now I don’t know how to put everything back the way it was.

  His palm moves across my belly, a loving caress. I flinch, and he draws his hand away, resting it on the bed between us. I hate myself for it, but I need perspective. I can’t get that here, with him.

  I rise from the bed before I do something stupid, like beg him to touch me again the way he did last night. I feel his eyes on me as I dress, snapping my bra in place, tugging a clean pair of knickers up my legs. I reach for a cotton dress, sliding it over my head and tugging it down. Only then do I turn.

  There’s hurt in his eyes, but he tucks it carefully away.

  “I’m going out,” I croak.

  Kyle rubs a hand over his face. “Where?”

  I grab the keys. “Shopping. There’s a few things I need.”

  “What do you need, Jamie?” His voice is low, disappointed, which only makes me hate myself more.

  “Girl stuff.”

  He works his jaw for a moment. “I thought you were on the pill?”

  “I am during deployment so I don’t get a period, but I go off it when I come home because it gives me headaches.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kyle asks, rising from the bed and reaching for a pair of shorts. I take in every
gorgeous, muscular inch of him before averting my eyes. He’s fucking glorious. All encompassing. Like the damn sun. I take a shuddery breath. “I would have … Fuck.” He rubs a hand over his head, looking at me, shorts in hand. “I don’t even have any condoms. I never expected ... I’ll come with you.”

  “No.”

  He slides into his shorts as if he didn’t even hear me, not even bothering with underwear. He slides the zipper closed and reaches for a shirt.

  “Kyle, no.”

  He pauses. “What do you mean no?”

  “I can do this myself.”

  His nostrils flare, his shirt bunching in his hands. “I’m sure you’re really fucking capable of doing this yourself, but I’m coming with you.”

  “No you’re not.” Damn him and his noble heart, always trying to do the right thing. Not this time.

  “Yes I am.”

  I shake my head. “Please don’t argue.”

  “You’re the one arguing.” His voice rises. “You’re so damn stubborn, and I’m sick of it. Do you think you can just go through life never needing anyone? Is it such a damn sin to ask for help? Will the fiery pits of Hell open up and swallow you whole if you lean on someone other than yourself?” Kyle is angry. So angry his whole body vibrates with it. And it’s my fault. I keep hurting him by pushing him away, but I don’t know what else to do. “Is that what you want?” he yells. “To be alone for the rest of your life?” I flinch, his barb hitting its mark. Kyle reaches for the keys gripped in my fist. “Give me the damn keys, Jamie. I’m taking you.”

  I tuck my hand behind my back. “Do not!” I caution in a shout, chest heaving and achy, holding on to my composure by the fingernails.

  Kyle lowers his voice. “Jamie, please.” He holds out his hand, waiting. And I could easily drop the keys in his palm, and he could drive me to the pharmacy, and it could make him feel good about doing the right thing, but I need space. Kyle is too … everything. I can’t think with him near me.

  He steps towards me, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off, my voice a scratchy whisper. “Don’t touch me.”

  His arm drops and the light in his eyes dims a little.

  I turn my head, vision blurring as I slide my feet into a pair of flip flops. “I’ll be back later,” I say, stepping out of the tent.

  He doesn’t come after me. I walk to the Hilux alone and climb inside. Shutting the door, I put the key in the ignition and turn it. The engine rumbles to life and my head drops to the steering wheel. What have I done?

  The drive to Esperance is a quick one. I make my way past shop fronts until I find a pharmacy. I park and step inside, walking down the back to the prescription counter. A sales assistant stands behind it, jotting down a note on the pad in front of her. She looks up at my arrival, giving me a friendly greeting.

  “I need the morning after pill.”

  “Okay.” She gives me a warm, reassuring smile. “Let me get someone for you.”

  She walks away before I can tell her I don’t need someone. Just the pill. But then Kyle is in my head, his voice a sneer. Do you think you can just go through life never needing anyone?

  Get out of my head, I growl as the pharmacist walks towards me, her hair a sleek dark bob, a sheet of paper in her hand. “I hope you don’t mind if I get a few details from you before we put your prescription together?”

  Yes I do mind, I want to say, feeling bitchy, but I bite the words back. “Sure.”

  The pharmacist takes down my name and address. “You’re a long way from home.”

  “Holiday,” I offer.

  Her knowing nod is enough to make me feel sordid.

  “What’s your usual means of contraception?”

  “I don’t. I mean, I don’t usually do this.”

  “Okay,” she replies, nice and calm. “Why do you need emergency contraception?”

  “Are you kidding me, lady?” I snap, my temper rising.

  “We have to ask. Assault happens and we need to be sure you don’t need additional care.”

  “Right.” I wince. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay.” I’m offered another reassuring smile. “How many hours has it been?”

  I check my watch, letting my breath out in a whoosh. “About six hours.”

  She asks a few more questions and leaves me to wait at the counter. She comes back soon after, handing me the prescription. I take it but she doesn’t let go. “Your period might be delayed after taking these.”

  “I know.” I’m a medic, not that she knows that.

  “Also, it’s only about eighty-five percent effective.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I reply tightly, snatching the little packet. Before I pay, I quickly choose a packet of condoms too, just in case, my cheeks heating a little as I add the box to my purchase.

  After making my purchase, I leave the pharmacy and climb back in the Hilux, shutting the door behind me. I read the directions on the packet quickly before I take one of the two pills, swallowing it down with a bottle of water. After turning the key, I pull out and find myself driving along the Esplanade, not ready to return to camp.

  I park and walk along the water’s edge. There are people climbing into kayaks. I pause to watch. It’s a beautiful day for it. Clear skies and calm water in the bay. “Would you like to hire one?”

  I turn my head. A man is approaching, his gaze running over me. A flirty smile appears on his face. He’s wearing shorts and a polo shirt with Esperance Kayaks embroidered on the pocket, a clipboard in hand and his feet bare. He’s handsome, his eyes green and hair blond. Like Jake. Jake. How could I have forgotten about him in the past two days? A horrible sense of betrayal climbs my throat.

  “I’m good.” I fold my arms. “Thanks.”

  “Are you sure? I can take you out,” he says like it’s no big deal.

  I look out over the horizon, the calm water at odds with the chaos in my heart. Maybe it’s just what I need. “Actually, yes, I would like to hire one.”

  “Great!”

  He takes my name and payment information before walking towards one of the kayaks resting near the shore. “You from around here?”

  I shake my head. “No,” I say, offering nothing more.

  “I’m Graham,” he says, holding out his hand.

  I give it a brief shake. “Jamie.”

  “Yeah. I kinda know,” he says with a grin, releasing my hand and waving his clipboard.

  “Oh.” I laugh a little at my stupidity. “Right.”

  Graham takes the front of the bright yellow kayak and tugs it out into shallow water while I slip my shoes free. I wade into the bay. He holds it steady while I climb in. “Have you done this before?”

  “No,” I reply, tugging on the little fluorescent life vest he hands me, “but how hard can it be, right?”

  He laughs and wades back for the other kayak. I’d rather be alone. Graham is distracting, but maybe that’s exactly what I need—mindless chatter with someone who doesn’t know anything about me. “It’s pretty easy,” he says, coming back with his own kayak. He jumps in as if he’s done it a thousand times before, which he probably has.

  I start to paddle and the tip of the little boat wobbles from left to right. Graham follows beside me. “You’re digging the oar too deep. Try going in a long, shallow stroke.”

  He keeps giving me tips until I manage a straight line. “See?” He laughs. “Easy. You’ll be sore tomorrow though.”

  Not as sore as this throbbing ache between my legs, I say to myself.

  “So, whereabouts are you from?” Graham asks, seemingly unable to shut up.

  “I’m from Perth, but I’m based in Townsville right now.”

  “Based? What do you do there?”

  “Army.”

  “Oh right.” Graham looks me over with appraising eyes as though assessing whether I’m capable of being a soldier and female, all at the same time, like it’s hard. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Have you been to Afghanistan?”r />
  “Twice.”

  “Wow,” he says as if it’s a miraculous achievement. But we don’t choose our deployment. We choose to serve our country in whatever means possible. And sometimes that means during war. Graham lowers his voice, his eyes dropping to the angry pink scars on my shoulder, exposed by the flimsy cotton sundress and thin spaghetti straps. “Have you ever been shot?”

  “No,” I reply, my voice curt and my stomach tightening in a knot at the turn of the conversation. I wanted mindless chatter, not deep and meaningfuls.

  “Have you ever shot anyone?”

  My kayak continues to glide over the pretty turquoise water while I rest the paddle across my thighs, gripping it tight to hide the sudden tremor in my hands. “That’s a really inappropriate question.”

  “Why is it? I mean it’s probably not the best thing to ask, but no one ever says why.”

  There’s a moment of silence while I think about how best to respond. “Because the depth of the answer doesn’t equal the casualness of the question.” Movies depict so much graphic violence these days, making it seem like it’s easy to kill someone. And the way Graham asked the question makes me think he believes the same. But it’s not easy. It takes something from you that you can never get back.

  Suddenly I don’t want to be on the bay anymore, talking with a stranger. I just want to be with Kyle. With the one person who understands me more than anyone else in the whole entire world.

  I start towards the shore.

  “I’m sorry I asked,” Graham says, turning his kayak around, following me, catching up to my side.

  “Are you?” He paddles with ease while I jerk my oar in the ocean, hating the clawing feeling inside my throat. “Why did you ask me, then? Are you trying to satisfy your own ghoulish curiosity? Or are you quietly judging me for what I do? Because I’m a combat medic. I save lives, dammit, and I don’t need to justify myself to you or anyone else.”

  32

  KYLE

  The Hilux disappears with a rev of the engine, and I make my way to the camp table for coffee. I heat the water and add a measured teaspoon of roasted blend to my mug. After pouring the steaming liquid, I give it a haphazard stir before tossing the spoon aside.