Authors: Lena Black
“
Jules, what’s wrong? What happened?” I ask, alarmed.
She leaps up off the floor and comes charging into my outstretched arms. The crash is immense, her arms curl around my neck, her soaked face wetting my silk collar and neck.
“Oh god! He’s dead! He’s fucking dead, Ellie!”
Heroes and Villains
I
cling to her desperately, terror filling me quickly. “Who? Who’s dead, Jules?”
“Nicholas! He killed himself!” Nicholas
was
her twin brother.
“Come inside. I can
make you a drink or coffee.” She shuffles in and stares blankly out the window, eerily silent.
“How? When?” I ask, concerned.
She remains quiet for only minutes, but it seems like hours, days even. I walk up from behind and wrap my arms around her, placing my cheek against her back, and she collapses. I guide her sagging body to the ground, cradling her in my arms while she weeps.
I hold her until she’
s cried herself out, at least for the moment, and finally speaks in a broken, small voice, “I knew something was wrong. I…I went to check on him, and…he was lying there…in a pool of blood with half his head blown off. It was…everywhere. Oh…oh god, no…He’s fucking dead!”
Her body spasms from the hard, short breaths she’s
struggling to take in. I clench her tighter as she breaks down in my arms.
“Shhh. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m here. Just let it out.”
I don’t know what else to say to her. With all honesty, I’m relieved he’s dead. There I said it. And before you go despising me, you should know one thing. He’s the reason I have a hard time trusting men, issues I covered up with shitty habits. He’s the reason I’m broken. He was not a good man. He was pure evil.
I can’t think of that now. I need to be here for
Jules. She needs me.
“What happened?” I ask cautiously.
“I don’t know,” she whimpers. “I called the cops after I ran out. They wouldn’t say anything officially, but they believe it’s…suicide.”
She explodes into a new round of tears. I’ve never felt such sorrow and reprieve at the same time. Sorrow for my dear frie
nd who lost someone extremely important to her and reprieve because my abuser is dead.
“How can that be? He was such an amazing guy. Always happy.”
It’s called a mask,
I think to myself. She doesn’t know her brother is the reason I have issues with men touching me or getting too close emotionally.
Except Hunt, his touch is more than welcome.
Julie
was ecstatic when Nicholas and I started dating. We were going to be real sisters. She never knew he would beat me or force himself onto me. It lasted for two years until he thrashed me to the point of hospitalization.
Julie
interrupts my thoughts as her arms cling to my neck and warm tears are run down my shoulder and back. “I’m here. Shhhh. I’m here.” I cradle her in my arms, rocking her until she falls asleep in my lap.
W
hen she wakes, her head is on my thigh, and I’m running my fingers through her messy midnight hair.
“What time is it?” she asks with sleep in her voice.
“Not late. It’s almost nine. You tired?”
“No…I could go for that drink though.”
“Of course. Pick your poison.”
“Rum, double.”
“You got it. Ice?”
“No. Thanks.”
I head to the kitchen to grab glasses and the rum from the freezer. I pour us doubles and take them, with the bottle, out to the living room. Julie’s on the couch, my throw draping her shoulders. She’s staring out the window silently, still as a statue. I hand her the glass, which she mechanically drinks from and hands back. Her eyes never leave the window.
I sit next to her and pour another. I lean back into the couch attempting to grasp the severity of the situation for her and me. I take a sip of the rum. The cold, amber liquor burns and soothes going down into my belly
, where it warms and tingles through me.
I look over at my poor friend, still absent, empty gl
ass in her hand, which I pilfer and place on the table in front of me. I want to talk, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what to say.
Probably not the best choice of words at this delicate time.
I just want to make her feel better, which I know isn’t possible and won’t
be for a long time. Instead of saying it myself, I head over to my iPod and let Odessa do it for me. I select ‘I Will Be There’ and allow the lyrics to express everything.
I watch her blankly gaze out at the glittering city. I walk back to her, flop on the couch, and enfold her in my arms. As I do, the floodgates open and tears flow out in large streams. I tickle her arm as she lets go on my shoulder, listening to the beauty of the song until it ends.
“I’m furious with him. How could he do this to us? How could he do this to our parents? They’re devastated. I couldn’t be there. The misery was thick in the air, and I ran out of their house as fast as my feet would take me. I actually ran so fast, so far, I had to call a cab to come to you. I knew I’d be safe here…What do I do? How will we get through this?”
“Day-by-day until so many have gone by that it doesn’t hurt anymore, or at least as much. You will make it through this because you’re a fighter, and you have a lot of life to live happily.”
She throws the blanket around me and hugs me securely. “Thank you. What would I do without you?”
“The feeling is mutual. Do you want to crash here tonight?”
She pulls away, and we sit there under the throw. “No, I think I’m going to stay at my parent’s house for a few days while we figure things out.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for tonight?”
“I’m sure. I need my mom. Will you call me a cab?”
“Of course I will.”
F
ifteen minutes later, the cab arrives. She hugs me, and then she’s gone. I lean up against the door and inhale deeply. I feel the tears burning the back of my eyes, but they refuse to come.
I take in everything that just happened, and suddenly, all energy drains from me. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I flip off the lights
and hobble over to the couch, barely making it when I fall face first into the smooth, cool leather.
MMM…comfy.
The delicious silence of the room is blasted through by
a thunderous pounding at the door. I scramble to get up, stumbling my way into mystery objects, trying to get to the urgent thrashing. I stub my toe on what I believe is a table leg.
“Ow! Shit! I’m coming!” I call out. “Did you forget something?” I ask, opening the door.
I make out the outline of a large, dark shadow blocking the doorway. My blurry vision scarcely perceives the shape of the strong build. “The only one who forgot is you,” The shadowy figure growls out.
I swallow when I realize it’s Damian, arms extended, leaning his weight on both sides of the frame. “I was going to call you in a minute. It’s not that late.”
“It’s eleven at night. I’ve been waiting to hear from you since yesterday.”
“Eleven? No, it’s…” My eyes drift into the kitchen to the glowing digital clock on the microwave. “Eleven.”
He’s not happy. In fact, as my vision becomes clearer, I notice his eyes are on fire.
“Who was here?”
he snarls.
I know he thinks it was
Chase. “Jules. You saw her at the club. She’s the one with black hair.”
“I didn’t notice any girl with black hair.”
“Well, she was here because she found her brother dead in his apartment today. You can see how I might’ve had my hands full.”
“Your eyes aren’t red. Weren’t you crying?”
he probes.
Is he trying to trap me in a lie? Why doesn’t he believe me?
“Chase wasn’t here, Hunt. Stop trying to catch me in a lie. I didn’t cry because I wasn’t close to him.”
Wow, lying to convince him I’m not lying.
I flip on the lights, illuminating his beautiful wounded face. I take a deep breath, realizing how stunning he looks. His sexy disheveled hair is wet and slicked back, its normally caramel brown hue is now a rich chocolate, making his green eyes pop. He’s wearing a black military jacket over a white button-up, worn-out jeans, and black chucks.
Fuck me, now.
“I believe you. I’m sor
ry about your friend’s brother…I was going mad waiting to hear from you. All sorts of thoughts rushed through my head. I’m a jealous man, and I despise other men around what I consider mine.”
I know what he means. I couldn’t handle if this gorgeous man were at another girl’s apartment attempting to woe and bed her.
The thought sickens me.
“I can assure you, there’s nothing to worry about. Besides, I’m not yours. I don’t belong to you.”
He steps into the apartment with an emphatic stride. Our eyes locked. “You
are
mine. You belong to me whether you believe it or not. You were mine from the moment I saw you moving that sensual body of yours. I want it for myself. I want all of you.”
He’s overcome, consumed with pass
ion. His eyes like wildfires, breathing stressed. This sets me ablaze as I mirror his intense stare. He gets closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body.
So hot, he actually sizzles.
Out of nowhere, that old familiar panic comes over me, but I need him naked in my bed. I can’t control the feeling of dread as it rises and spreads through me. The closeness of our bodies makes me claustrophobic. I begin to hyperventilate, and I drop to the floor scrunching my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth. I dig my face into my knees as I sway and cry vigorously. I hear footsteps on the hard wood floor, moving toward the front door, and it closes.
He left. He can’t handle a whack job like me. Why would he want to? Why am I freaking out? What triggered this episode? It couldn’t be him. He’s one of three men in my life that doesn’t cause dread in me.
Interrupting my explosion of thoug
hts, I hear more hard footsteps coming back to me. His muscular arms scoop under my legs and behind my back. He lifts me up, walks us to the couch, and takes a seat, cradling me in his lap. He holds me while I cry and breathe erratically. He doesn’t say anything, swaying us to and fro. His able arms are comforting and safe. There is a protective aura surrounding him.
How can I be terrified and calmed by the same person? I understand feeling intimidated by him. How can you not be?
He has the most overwhelming presence. He is a force to be reckoned with…The part baffling me, how I can feel safe with the same man?
I know, without a shadow of a doubt, he is going to be a significant part of my life. I know he insists we will end, and he may be right, but truthfully, I don’t want there to be a deadline. I want the possibility of a future with him…
Get a hold of yourself, woman. I can’t believe you’re thinking about this! You cannot let yourself hope for more because his mind is set…But maybe for now, I can pretend this act is one of tenderness and affection rather than an attempt to quiet his prey.
I nuzzle my head into his chest, curling an arm around his neck, and he stiffens. Every muscle clenching as I touch him in such a personal way. I release my grip and break away from his chest. I stare down at my hands, knotting them in my lap. It feels as if we’ve been sitting here forever in silence, even though it’s only been seconds.
I notice from my peripheral vision, he’s gazing at me, and it makes me uncomfortable. I’m no longer crying or freaking out, so I start to shift off his lap, having worn-out my welcome, but he clenches his arm around my waist, keeping me on him.
“Where do you think you’re going? Are you in a rush to get away from me?” He peers at me with an intensity that leaves me feeling naked. I gaze up at him, my head tilted down. He sweeps his finger under my chin, lifting my face to his.
“I thought I’d done something wrong, overstepped a boundary. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. There’s no need to apologize.” He shifts a few strands of hair from my face and strokes my cheek. “I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t like having my neck touched, I’m not used to it, to this. I wish I could be more comfort.”
“You’re a great comfort to me. I’m sorry I melted down in front of you. I have issues with men being too close, due to…past experiences. You probably think I’m crazy.”
“Please, stop apologizing, Gabrielle.
I think many things of you, gorgeous, but crazy’s not one of them. I’m sure you have your reasons for the panic attack. I didn’t mean to frighten you. That wasn’t my intent.” He inhales a large intake of air. “I think it’s time I take my leave.”
I don’t want him to go. I want him to stay with me.
He starts to get up, and I manage to jolt my body, causing his to fall back onto the couch. He stares at me with a crooked grin and cocked brow.
“Is this your way of telling me you don’t want me to go yet?” He sighs. “Look, Gabrielle, I think you’re an extremely nice girl, but an innocent such as you
rself wouldn’t be able to handle what I do. Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m very attracted to you. I want you desperately, but I don’t think it would be right to take advantage of you like that.”