Translucent (33 page)

If only they knew the truth.

If they knew the true horror that is my life, they would never wish to look like I do. They wouldn’t hate me. If they knew the truth about me they would be thankful for everything they have in their lives.

Because in my world, there is nothing but pain—nothing but darkness.

In my world, there is no such thing as happiness, because if you allow yourself to feel, there is no way to survive.

CHAPTER 1

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I can feel his rough, callused hands on my skin as he slowly slips his hand under the hem of my shirt and up my side. The shudder that flows through me isn’t from pleasure, but he can’t know that.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Your skin is so soft. So perfect,” he whispers in my ear. I know this is his attempt at seduction, but all I can do is swallow down the bile that has risen in my throat from the feel of his skin on mine.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I can’t let him see how much he disgusts me. I know what will happen if I let my mask slip, how he’ll punish me if he is able to sense to true hatred for him.

“I love when you touch me.” I nearly choke as I speak, my voice breaking on the last word, but I can tell by the smile that slowly spreads across his lips that he’s misread my revulsion as being overcome with lust for him. That’s the only thing that will keep me alive tonight. His hand continues its slow, torturous slide up my body until he finally reaches my breast. He squeezes so tightly that a whimper of pain passes my lips.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, moaning pleasurably at the sound I’ve just made. I can feel him growing hard against my hip as he pinches my nipple so harshly tears prick my eyes. He must have had an intense day. I can always tell if his day has been good or bad, judging by how he comes to me at night. I’m not getting soft or gentle, so that must mean something went wrong.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Marley, wake your lazy ass up! I know you’re in there!”

I’m jolted awake and out of the nightmare by the incessant pounding on my front door.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“I’m gonna kick this fucking door down if you don’t open up!”

I desperately try to pull myself from the past that snuck back in as I slept. I suck in a deep fortifying breath, trying to get my emotions and body under control. It always takes me a few minutes to come to sorts after a nightmare. My hands tremble as I wipe away the tears on my cheeks and the sweat that’s beaded on my forehead.

“You have to the count of three, or I swear to Christ—”

“Jesus! Will you just relax?” I yell as I throw the covers off my body and stand on shaky legs. “I’m coming, just give me a minute.”

As I make my way to the front door and begin unlocking all four locks, I shake my head in an attempt to expel the horrible memories that plagued my sleep. The last thing I need is the third degree I’ll receive from Carmen if she sees just how out of sorts I am. I never let my outward appearance reflect how I’m feeling on the inside. I slip my mask into place, take a deep breath, and pull the door open to the whirlwind that is my best friend.

“About fucking time.” Carmen barrels right past me and into the living room, dropping down on the couch and throwing her arm over her eyes with a pathetic sigh. “I’ve been standing out there for-fucking-ever.”

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” I mumble as I make my way toward to kitchen, shoving her feet off my couch as I pass.

I look at the clock on the stove as I begin making two cups of coffee. Seven-thirty in the morning.

Brilliant
. Tolerating Carmen on a good day is hard enough. But at seven-thirty in the morning and without any caffeine in my system? Well that’s damn near impossible.

“So what brings you by at the butt crack of dawn?” I shout as I pour a hefty amount of French Vanilla creamer into both cups making them just how we both like it...creamer with just a hint of coffee.

“Haven’t been home yet,” she mumbles as I head back into the living room, taking a seat in the chair across from the couch. I place her coffee of table in front of her, letting my eyes scan over her, and notice - for the first time- how she’s dressed. There’s definitely no doubt that she’s just spent the night partying. The tiny scrap of silver she’s wearing can hardly be considered a dress. Falling just below her ass, if she moves just slightly, I’m sure I’ll get a peek of parts of her I have no interest in seeing. Carmen lets out a groan as she sits up and reaches for the cup. “You’re so good to me, babe. If I ever go lesbian I swear, I’ll be so good to you.”

I roll my eyes and let out a snort before taking a long sip of my own coffee.
Perfect.
Now maybe I’ll be able to think a little clearer.

“What?” she asks at my sarcastic sound. “You don’t think I’d treat you right?”

“No,” I smile over at her. “I don’t think you’d ever become a lesbian. You like dick too much.”

Carmen sits her cup back down after taking a sip and collapses back on the couch, her blonde hair fanning out in all directions. “I do,” she laments. “I really,
really
do.”

I let out a quiet laugh and shake my head, drawing her gaze back to me. I already know what’s about to happen by the narrowing of her eyes as she scans my face, studying me intently. “What happened?” she asks. “Why are you so pale?”

Damn it
. I love Carmen to death, but her innate ability to read me like a book after only two years of friendship is something I find extremely hard to deal with. Keeping secrets is a skill I’ve perfected practically since birth, but it doesn’t change the fact that I hate lying to her. Unfortunately, it’s necessary.

“Maybe it’s from being woken up too fucking early by a crazy person beating down my door. You scared the shit out of me, Car.”

Her expression changes to one of remorse as I’ve managed to derail her concern. “I’m sorry, babe.”

I let out a deep sigh and lean over to place my cup on the coffee table, feeling like a terrible person for taking the heat off of myself by making her feel bad. “It’s fine. But what the hell are you doing here so early on a Saturday?”

She raises her arms above her head, stretching her thin, lithe body and lets out a groan. I barely manage to avert my eyes in enough time to miss seeing all of Carmen’s
glory.
“Partied a little too hard last night. You’re place was closer, so I figured I’d just crash with you.”

“Ah, well I’m glad I could be of service,” I deadpan.

Carmen lets out an indelicate snort and looks over at me with a grin. “I knew I could count on you to be home and take me in. It’s not like you have much of a life, loser.”

Grabbing the throw pillow from behind my back, I hurl it at her, smacking her in the face. “Some of us have to study. We can’t all live the glamorous life you lead.”

“Glamorous my ass,” Carmen responds as she stands from the couch. “Someone hurled all over my shoes last night. How’s that for glamour?”

I look down at her feet—the same feet she just had propped up on my couch. “That’s disgusting! If you got puke on my couch, I’m gonna beat the living hell out of you!”

With a flick of her wrist, she dismisses my complaint and makes her way down the hall towards my bedroom. “Whatever. I’m crashing in your bed for a bit. Want to do lunch when I wake up?”

“Can’t,” I call after her. “I picked up extra shifts at Fletchers. I’m working the lunch and late shifts.”

“All right, I’ll lock up on my way out. I’m on tonight so I’ll see you at work. Love you, babe.”

“Love you too. Sleep well…And take your damn shoes off before you climb in my bed!”

***

Fletchers is a smallish pub in Lake View near Wrigley Field with a relatively diverse crowd, garnering attention from both locals and tourists. Unless there’s a game, the weekday lunch crowd can tend to be a little slow at times. Even though I mostly depend on tips to pay my way through college and keep a roof over my head, I still prefer the lunch shift at Fletchers. It’s not too busy which allows me to get some studying in between patrons. Unfortunately, the trade off for being able to get extra study time in means I have to take at least three extra shifts a week in order to pay rent and utilities.

“Afternoon, gorgeous.” I lift my eyes from my Biology text book and see Matt walking through the door.

“Hey, Matty. How’s it going?” I ask as he makes his way around the bar.

I give him a bright smile as he leans in and places a kiss on my forehead. “It would be going a lot better if you’d quit calling me Matty,” he replies as he grabs a black apron from under the bar and begins to tie it around his waist.

“Ah, but where would the fun be in that?” I stand and give his cheek a pinch before scooting around him and heading toward the break room to drop my books off. There’s no way I’ll get any studying done if I’m working with Matt.

“You’re not emasculating at all, honey,” Matt yells as I make my way down the hall. Other than Carmen, Matt is one of the only other friends I have. Letting people in is nearly impossible for me, and allowing myself to trust is even harder. For as long as I can remember, men have frightened me, and rightfully so, considering my upbringing. I worked at Fletchers for over a year before I was able to speak more than two sentences to Matt. He’s probably the only man I truly feel comfortable around.

“Don’t put that on me, sweetheart,” I call over my shoulder. “If you’re balls are missing, I’m putting my money on Caleb having them.”

I hear Matt let out a deep guttural laugh just before I turn the corner into the break room, toss my books inside my locker, and grab my apron.

“Oh, baby doll. You don’t even want to know what Caleb is capable of doing with my balls,” Matt says as I come back around the bar.

Throwing my head back, I let out a loud laugh. Matt’s never had any problems letting the world know just how fabulous his boyfriend is in the bedroom. He takes
TMI
to a whole new level, but the unfortunate truth is if it wasn’t for the fact that Matt’s gay and has been in a serious relationship with his partner for years, I really don’t know if I’d have been able to open myself up to him the way I have.

“You’re right, I don’t.” I’m wiping tears from the corner of my eyes and trying to get my laughter under control as the door opens, letting in the chilly fall wind and the noise from the street outside. I turn to see three men speaking in hushed voices as they make their way through the pub. I watch them closely as they pass by, studying the two that seem to be causing me the most discomfort. All three are dark haired with olive complexions, but it’s the expression on the two shorter men’s faces that is bothering me. Their appearances are almost menacing - something about their demeanor has instantly set me on guard. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and goose bumps breakout across my skin. My back tenses as I watch them make their way to a secluded booth in the back. For some reason, I can’t bring myself to look away from these men even though warning signals are flashing left and right in my mind.

“You all right, baby doll?” Matt asks, breaking the spell and pulling me back into reality.

“Huh?” I glance down at my hands that are gripping the edge of the bar so tightly, my knuckles are turning white. I let go and reach for a towel to begin wiping the bar down. I need something other than strangling the edge of the bar to keep my hands occupied. “Yeah…” I squeeze my eyes closed and give my head a small shake. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.”

The concern remains on his face, but thankfully he doesn’t say another word. I try to go about prepping the bar, but my eyes keep drifting toward the booth in the back. I can’t shake the unease that’s crept under my skin.

Time passes and I somehow manage to get a hold of myself, going about my job without breaking bottles or dropping any glasses—which is a feat in itself considering how badly my hands are trembling.

“I’m going to grab a case of beer from the back,” Matt tells me, pulling me from my thoughts of the men in the back booth. “You sure you’re okay?”

I give him a smile that I know is forced, but can only hope it’s able to fool him. “Yeah, I’m good,” I reply with fake enthusiasm. “Will you grab a bottle of tequila too? We’re running low.”

“You got it.” Matt heads toward the stock room in the back as I go back to stacking glasses. I’ve almost managed to forget about the uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of my stomach when a voice behind me sends an unfamiliar shiver up my spine. It’s not fear. Fear is second nature to me. The sensation I’ve just experienced at the sound of a strangers voice is almost…
pleasurable
? I’d never felt this sensation before, so I can’t be certain that’s what it is.

How is that even possible?
My body has never once responded to a man in any way other than fear or disgust before. This feeling I’m experiencing now is completely foreign, and for that reason alone, it terrifies me.

I quickly turn to see who it is that could have such an unbelievably erotic voice, when I come face to face with the most hypnotizing eyes I’ve ever seen. Slate gray eyes. The exact color of the ocean during a turbulent storm. But it isn’t the color alone that sucks me in and refuses to let go, it’s what’s behind them that I’m drawn to. There’s a darkness in those eyes, something akin to what I see in my own every time I look in the mirror. Deep pain mixed with sadness. But just as quickly as I see it, it disappears. Hidden away and replaced by something else—something familiar. Something I recognize from so many men in my past. Something I’ve grown to associate with pain and destruction.

Lust
.

I don’t know how long I stand there staring into those beautiful eyes before I realize that he’s been speaking to me this whole time and I haven’t heard a word he’s said.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

The grin that spreads over his lips sends a tingle to my very core. “Bourbon neat, please.” The laughter in his deep voice causes a blush to creep up my neck and stain my cheeks.

“O-of course, I apologize. Any bourbon in particular?”