Say You Swear

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Say You Swear Page 9

by Meagan Brandy


  “Yeah, I fuckin’ bet.” Nate frowns. “I’d want to keep as much of that shit under wraps to if my oldest son was the reason for my youngest son’s death. How she continues to blame Payton and not him, I can’t understand it.” He tosses Lolli’s soda in the garbage and pulls the keys to his Hummer from his pocket. “Come on. Let’s get her home.”

  Nodding, we follow after them, quietly slipping into Mason’s Tahoe, and not ten minutes later, we’re pulling up in front of Lolli’s place.

  Payton’s face is stoic as she steps out.

  She looks at no one, her hands stiff at her sides as she follows her brother into the house, going straight for her room.

  The bedroom door is closed with cautious movements, but the second the door clicks, every one of us freezes as Payton’s piercing screams echo from the hallway, bouncing off the walls around us.

  We stand there, helplessly staring at one another, and not much changes over the next hour. Lolli makes a fresh pot of coffee and we pace the house, jolting every time her sudden outbursts reach our ears.

  “This isn’t good for her.” Chase shakes his head, worry etched along his face.

  I reach over, squeezing his hand, and Mason scrubs his hands down his chin.

  Lolli excuses herself, stepping out onto the deck—she doesn’t do well with emotion, but she’s learning, and the man who taught her how to love follows after her.

  Chewing on my inner lip, my leg bounces in place.

  If it were me, I’d be begging for my mom, but Payton doesn’t have one who cares, but I imagine she could use the soft touch of one right now, and my mom is the best woman I know. So, I don’t hesitate to call her, but I don’t get past the first sentence before I learn my brother beat me to it.

  I look to him and as if he knew what I was going to say, he rasps, “They’re already on their way.”

  I nod, and he sighs, coming up and wrapping his arms around me.

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Yeah.” He nods, sounding as unsure of his answer as I am.

  “What mother would hide something like this?”

  “She’s not a mother.” My brother glares. “She’s a heartless bitch. Payton is carrying a piece of that woman’s son. She should be worshipping the girl, begging for forgiveness for treating her like shit their entire relationship. She’s not a mother,” he repeats.

  Those are the last words spoken for several hours, and finally, my mom and dad are knocking on the door.

  Nate welcomes them in and they give their round of hugs.

  Parker answers the questions he can and shows my mom to Payton’s room, where she stays for the rest of the evening, my dad in the kitchen whipping up something warm.

  Hours go by, and we fall asleep, all to wake up every so many minutes, a restlessness in all of us.

  Around four in the morning, my dad shakes my shoulders and my eyes pop open. “Come on, sweetheart. I’m driving you guys back.”

  I begin to shake my head, but he gives a stern nod, so I climb to my feet, finding the others all around doing the same thing.

  My dad drives us all back to the house, parking at the curb. He turns, squeezing my hand. “Get some sleep, honey, we’ll cook brunch down at Nate’s around noon or so. We’ll call you, okay?”

  “If she wants us to come back—”

  “I’ll let you know. I think she just wants to be alone a minute.”

  “Mason is camped outside her door.”

  “Well, Mase is Mase. We just gotta let him do what he thinks he needs to do.”

  “You traumatized him when you told us about Aunt Ella’s death.”

  He nods. “You might be right, but you guys had just started taking off on your bikes and roaming through the neighborhoods, so you need to know how dangerous that was.”

  “Was it hard, after she died?”

  His smile is sad. “Yeah, honey, it was. I didn’t ride a bike for years after that, and when it was time for me to get my licenses, I was too afraid to drive, thinking I might hit someone like someone hit her.”

  “Your parents shouldn’t’ have blamed you,” Brady mumbles from the back seat. “That wasn’t your fault, Uncle E.”

  My dad signs, nodding slightly. “I know, son, but death is hard for people, and you don’t really know how you’ll handle it until it happens.” His shoulders seem to fall, but he jerks his chin. “Go on. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  With that, the four of us go inside.

  Everyone drops onto the couches, but I silently slip out the back door, making my way down the dock. The sun is still hidden behind the horizon, but it will be rising soon.

  I walk to where the water meets the wooden posts, strip my shoes off, and submerge my feet in the cold water.

  It’s always been a peaceful place for me, the ocean, so full of possibilities and hope.

  I’ve always loved how while nothing changes here, it’s also never the same. The waves vary minute by minute, the lines in the sand crease then curve. It’s a true wonder, the ocean. Strong and dominant, yet soft and fragile, like the shattered shells pushed to the surface, just to be swept away with the tide. The imperfections are there, but hidden, buried, only those willing to dig down deep will discover the flaws of the sea.

  With a soft sigh, I close my eyes, listening to the roar of the waves before me, and inhale as much as my lungs will allow. The salty wisps in the air hit my throat, and the suffocating sensation plaguing me with begins to wash away.

  Today was horrible, tragic, and serves as yet another reminder that no matter the choices we make, anything can come in and stir up our lives at any moment. Chances are, we’d never see it coming, and that’s terrifying.

  I think about my family and friends, of my own personal dreams and the life I want for myself down the road. And then I think about it being stolen from under me, just like it was from Payton. Like the waves are stealing the sand from beneath my feet this very moment with their fight for dominance, leaving the ground beneath me unsteady, as unsteady as the world around me suddenly feels.

  Maybe it’s dramatic or silly but moisture fills my eyes as they open to stare at the moon’s gleam bouncing along the water’s surface, fading more and more the closer it gets to shore.

  The waves splash higher then, the cold burning my skin, but I don’t move away, and in the next moment, someone steps beside me.

  I don’t have to look to know who it is. Chase’s chilled fingers brush mine and the tears in my eyes fall.

  “How could that woman do this to her?” I shake my head. “She loved him, and from what we’ve heard, he hated his mother. How could she deny the one person who meant the world to him, her chance to say goodbye?” My voice breaks. “She’s having his baby. Her grandson.”

  “I don’t know. I can’t imagine,” he barely whispers.

  “I hope she got the chance to say all the things she wanted to say. How devastating if not.” I swallow. “My dad didn’t. His sister was only ten. God, life’s just…”

  “Unpredictable…” is pensive tone drawing my eyes his way.

  A soft frown creases his forehead. Ever so slowly, his green eyes lift to mine, and his hand follows, gently finding its way to my cheek.

  The air in my lungs constricts as his palm glides higher, the tips of his fingers now lost in my hair.

  We must shift, because the next thing I know, we’re facing each other, the shine of the moon creating a soft glow over the right side of his handsome face.

  “Ari…” he breathes, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow, his fingers twitching against my chilled skin. A low curse leaves him next, but he doesn’t pull back.

  Chase doesn’t let me go.

  In fact, his other hand comes up to meet my left cheek and his lips part.

  It’s obvious he’s struggling to come to terms with whatever’s going through his mind, and that’s understandable. It’s like I said, it’s been a long, hard day.

  I should stand here and wait hi
m out, give him all the time he needs, be here when he’s ready to speak the words sitting at the tip of his tongue, his tongue that slides along the insides of his lip, as if fighting to slip out, but forced to remain hidden.

  But I can’t… not with him so close and not when his eyes are darkening by the second, drawing me in and drowning me without a single word spoken.

  So, I make a decision that benefits myself.

  I rise to my toes and press my lips to his.

  Chase sighs into my mouth, and I begin to pull away, but as my body slides backward, Chase’s hands drive deeper into my hair. He closes the space between us.

  He kisses me, and this time, he doesn’t stop.

  His tongue dives into my mouth, exploring deeper, and I’m putty in his palms.

  Somehow, at some point, we moved toward our dock, because the next thing I know, my arms are coming down, our tops are long gone, and our hands are roaming each other in foreign ways. My back meets the cool sand, nothing but my bra and underwear left on. A chill runs through me, but then he settles between my legs, his warm body heating mine from above.

  His skin is soft, his body hard, as is the bulge beneath his jeans, jeans that my fingers gingerly glide lower to meet.

  I flick open the bottom, and Chase doesn’t protest.

  He doesn’t lift his lips from mine once as I wiggle his body free, pulling my feet up to help them off of him.

  My panties are next to go.

  Without a wasted moment, I push my hips up into his, grinding myself against him and he groans, tearing free of my lips and pressing them against my cheek and jaw, settling at the curve of my shoulder.

  I roll my core, and he hisses, a low curse leaving him. A sudden urge to feel him washes over me, so I reach between our bodies. I grip him, willing my hand to stop shaking.

  Every muscle in his body freezes, his lips included.

  His pinched gaze slowly lifts to mine.

  His green eyes are begging me to stop, while pleading for me to let this happen, to keep going.

  Does he not know I’ve thought about this for years, dreamed about it even?

  “I want this,” I whisper. Soothing the worry lines on his forehead with one hand, gripping him harder with the other. I don’t take my eyes off his. “I want you.”

  I’m not sure if it’s the sureness or desperation in my voice that propels him, but he sits back on his knees, locating his discarded jeans.

  He grabs a condom out, locking eyes with me when he tears it open, watching me watch him as he sheathes himself.

  Nerves flip through me, my muscles tensing, but I pull in a deep breath, and the anxiousness eases as he settles over me again, his hands sinking into the base of my hair.

  His fearful, hesitant eyes ask for permission a second time, and I answer by lifting my hips, forcing the tip of him inside me. He groans, and I slide my hands up his body until I’m holding his cheeks in my palms. I run my thumb along his lower lip.

  “Please,” I rasp.

  Chase caves.

  He moans and I hold my breath as he slowly works his cock inside me.

  I clamp my teeth together, swallowing the painful hiss that threatens to work its way up, and thankfully, he drops his head into the crook of my shoulder. My eyes squeeze closed, my grip on him tightening as he pushes all the way in.

  I gasp, my hips locking, and he kisses my skin.

  It burns more than it aches, the unfamiliar pressure something to get used to.

  Chase begins to rock, nice and slow, pulling out and pushing back in a little more each time. He moves as if following the sound of the waves crashing below us. I mirror his movements, and a low moan escapes.

  I block out the slight sting and focus on the swell of him inside me.

  I close my eyes and lose myself in the brown-haired, green-eyed man above me.

  Chase kisses along my jaw, his palm coming up and slipping beneath the bra we never got around to taking off.

  He squeezes, his thumb grazing along my nipple, and I begin to shake beneath him.

  His breathing kicks up, short hisses slipping past his lips, creating goose bumps where it blows along my skin. He moans.

  My core clenches, and I know I’m going to come.

  Chase’s thrusts grow quicker then, his groans deeper, and when he moans my name, right against the hollow of my ear, I explode.

  My body fires off, my pussy locking around him as he pulses inside me.

  “Ari…” he whispers into the night once more, and my lips curve into a smile.

  I run my hands through his hair, and when my body goes limp in the sand, the weight of the man I’m in love with settles over me.

  I close my eyes, etching every second of this into my memory to the tune of the late-night ocean’s swell.

  Sighing in exhausted satisfaction, I know I’ll never forget this night.

  I had no idea just how much I’d come to wish I could…

  Chase

  * * *

  Ari pulls the blanket up over her shoulders, her head shifting on the wicker seat, so she can look up at me.

  I grin, kicking my legs up onto the edge of the stone firepit. “The fire’s getting low, should I add another couple logs?”

  She shakes her head, not taking her eyes from me.

  “I could get us some—”

  “What the fuck?”

  I fly up so fast my feet get tangled in the blanket, and I trip, my hand quickly darting out to catch myself on the back of the chair.

  My eyes snap toward Mason.

  His jaw is set firm and he jerks forward, snagging the blanket and rolling it in his hands. “Ari,” he forces past clenched teeth. “Get up.”

  “Mase, come on,” she argues.

  “Don’t,” he hisses.

  “We’re just sitting here, bro. It’s nothing.” I shake my head, and only after the words leave me, do I realize they were the wrong ones.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ari’s head jerk in my direction.

  Unease settles over me as she slowly climbs to her feet, taking the blanket from Mason’s hands and steps through the back door.

  I raise my eyes to Mason as she slips closer to me.

  He opens his mouth, but then he closes is, shakes his head and storms past.

  I fall back into the seat, burying my face in my hands.

  Fuck!

  Chapter 10

  Arianna

  * * *

  When my grandma died, it felt unexpected. Even though we knew she was sick, knew the treatments weren’t working and the poison was taking over her body, I didn’t expect it. Not when the day before, she was awake and alive, smiling, seemingly feeling better or okay…unlike every other day the six months prior.

  I guess that was the giveaway—the white flag of surrender. That perfect day of laughs and smiles and memories she gave us, that she herself was given. That was her last strong, happy, full day before she joined my grandpa.

  … Maybe that should have been my first clue, the uninhibited happiness and relief I felt not two hours ago, when Chase was mine for those few minutes in the sand.

  It was perfect, and it meant something, and Chase wasn’t that guy. He’d never sleep with me then disregard me after. Sure, he screws around as much as Mason, and not nearly as much as Brady, but he’d never do that to me, to our friendship. Not when he knew how I felt. I may have never spelled it out in big, bold letters, but he knew. He had to.

  Last night, or early this morning, depending how you look at it, we dressed, making our way to the house. Chase brought out a blanket, lit the fire pit, and we sat there under the stars, enjoying each other’s company, watching as the moon disappeared with the rise of the sun.

  About twenty minutes after dawn was when Mason came home.

  I didn’t move, but Chase, he jumped ten feet.

  We were only sitting close, our bodies touching but not wrapped in each other. I think the fire and the sunrise made it look as intimate as it felt, a
nd maybe that was a bit much for the first time he saw Chase and me together. Then again, I lie with Brady all the time and while Mason will make a remark, he doesn’t lose it the way he does when it comes to Chase.

  Does he not trust him?

  Does he not trust him with me?

  Everything was as perfect as it could have been prior to that. I finally had what I’d wanted for so long—that perfect moment with the perfect person. Everything was perfect.

  Yet, here we are, the morning after, staring at each other from across an entirely different fire.

  We’re sitting on the deck, and Chase is gauging me, a torn expression written along his features as he begs me to understand him when he’s yet to say a word.

  Not that he could right now, and for that I’m grateful, because he doesn’t have to for me to know exactly what will leave his mouth should he try.

  As promised, we made our way to Nate’s, where our parents cooked us a giant feast. It’s meant to lift our spirits, but the tone is solemn, so I can hide a little behind the hurt we all feel for the young woman who has yet to leave her room this morning.

  My brother joins the rest of us on the back deck then, scrubbing his hands down his face as he plops beside me.

  “How is she?” I manage to whisper, forcing myself to stay focused on my brother.

  Mason sighs. “She said she’s fine, but who knows. Parker said she’s the ‘suffer in silence’ type, so I’m guessing she’s full of shit. She’s safe and where she belongs though, so I guess she’s taken care of. She let Lolli stay in there, so that’s got to be a good sign.”

  I nod, and he drops his head onto my shoulder, closing his eyes a moment. Mine flick across the flame.

  Chase’s brows draw in so tight, they’re practically touching, and his gaze falls to his lap.

  I jolt from the literal pain that shoots through my chest and Mason’s head snaps my way.

  He frowns instantly, and I know my eyes are glossed over, but I offer a tight smile, one he convinces himself is for the pain our family is going through.

 

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