Afraid to Fly (Fearless #2) (36 page)

I
WAS A LIAR
. No. I was worse than that. I was a murderer. I had killed the only thing that mattered to me outside of my family. I had killed my only shot at happiness.

Years and years of lying had made me good at it. Raven believed I could actually move on so quickly. That I could even
see
any girl but her. I had to tell her that. I had to make her see that I was defective. That I would always be flawed. And she didn’t need that in her life. Not after what I had already done to her.

I vaguely remembered that girl in high school. After the incident, I had fallen into a dark place, completely humiliated and disgusted with myself. I never fucked virgins. It was a policy of mine. I had only made an exception with Angel, but that was a different circumstance. We were both fucked up, and just needed . . . someone. Something to ease the pain. And after, we both cried together. She knew she was a lesbian, no matter how badly she tried not to be. And I knew that I’d never have a normal relationship without that monster looming over me, watching, waiting for me to show weakness.

I knew I was drunk that night at the party. Drunk and horny and desperate. Honestly, I didn’t even remember Raven’s face. She could have been anyone. That was how fucked up in the head I was. I just needed a warm, wet hole. I had absolutely no self-respect.

My legs were like jelly, but they somehow carried me over to my dresser where a coffee cup sat. I thought she had returned the one I gave her, opening a fresh wound from the countless scars of rejection, but then I turned it around. And the sentiment . . . the idea that she had thought about me . . . it was enough to make me stumble backwards until I had collapsed onto the floor in a heap of misery.

It was a colored drawing of a smiling taco, and with it were the words
Let’s Taco ‘Bout It.
Through tears, I laughed out loud. Even when she hated me, she made me happy. I didn’t deserve her; I never had. Maybe I was playing myself into thinking I could somehow change for her. That I could be someone I wasn’t. How foolish of me to tell myself those lies.

It was late, but I didn’t want to sleep, so I fashioned my resignation letter to Helping Hands and emailed it Amber. Even if I was staying, I couldn’t work there. I was no good to those kids. They needed a role model, not a liability.

I could hear Angel and her date across the hall. I had no idea who it could be; probably some chick she picked up at Dive during last call. She was hurting, and like me, mindless sex was the anecdote. It didn’t cure us. It just numbed the pain. I thought about doing the same . . . finding some hole to purge my sins and bury them deep until they could no longer be seen, if only for a little while. But the thought of touching another person—kissing another person that wasn’t Raven—disgusted me. But the fact that I couldn’t imagine being intimate with a woman—couldn’t do the one thing that made me a man—terrified me even more.

I grabbed my keys and coat, and all but running out of the apartment. I didn’t know where I was going, let alone know what I would do once I was there. I drove around, searching for something I would never find. I drove until the city lights began fade into the greys and blues of dawn. Until I found myself on that cliff that overlooked the city. The cliff where I took Raven’s virginity so many years ago . . . ruined her in the backseat of some stranger’s car. But it was also the place where she had driven us to use me as her muse. She joked and giggled as she snapped photos of every one of my awkward poses. Then she looked to the sky, arms spread wide, and basked in the moonlight as I captured every smile, every laugh, every flutter of those dark lashes.

Why had she taken me here, when it held such a negative connotation for us both? It was as if she wanted me to remember. And then what? Forgive and forget? Or maybe her plight was to push me away all along. Like she had tried in the beginning.

This was what she wanted; she just didn’t realize it yet. But soon she would see that it was for the best. She would see that she couldn’t allow herself to be caged by my failure. I loved her too much for that. I had to set her free.

So I bit back my fears and approached the cliff’s edge. With arms stretched wide, I lifted my tear-streaked face to the heavens, and I said goodbye.

Thursday was a faceless girl from the bar on the corner.

I didn’t have the guts to go back to Dive yet. I wasn’t ready for the stares and whispers. Everyone knew what I was now, and they would never look at me the same.

The girl was cute enough, a barista at a local coffee shop. She was out with her friends, drinking cheap margaritas, looking for someone to warm her bed, and eventually her heart.

I couldn’t do it. I tried, but I couldn’t. She ended up sucking me off until her lips were sore before giving up. I blamed it on the alcohol, but I wasn’t drunk. She told me to call her. I smiled and kissed her on the forehead.

Friday was Lauren from the gym.

I chalked up my failure to launch on the fact that I was in a strange place with a strange woman. So running into Lauren on her way to the sauna was a happy coincidence. At least that was what I told myself.

It started out fine at first. She took me to a storage closet, whipped off her itty-bitty sports bra and pushed her tits together. I licked and sucked them like a starving man, willing myself to focus on the sensations coursing through my body. But I couldn’t help thinking that Raven’s breasts were so much nicer—soft and natural and the perfect size to fit in my palms. And I couldn’t help but notice that her lips were not as full and plush as Raven’s. And her body—while fit and toned—lacked the curves that I had worshipped the night when I made love to Raven.

I couldn’t stop seeing her . . . feeling her. I couldn’t make myself stop wanting her. And I knew what I had to do. I had to make her hate me. Hate me more than I already hated myself.

Saturday was Cherri. Even if it killed me.

I showed up at The Pink Kitty well after midnight, after all the dumbass frat boys and bachelor party douchewads were already drunk and broke. I knew she would be here—Cherri always worked Saturdays. She was a headliner and Sal’s pretty little cash cow.

I expected her to be pissed at me for blowing her off, but Cherri was more than happy to see me. She bounded over to me and placed her thong-clad ass on my lap before kissing my lips.

“Oh my God, baby, where have you been?” she squealed.

“Busy.”

“Yeah? Too busy for me?” Her hands were in my hair, and it felt like spiders crawling all over me. I grabbed her wrists and held them to her lap.

“That was then. I’m here now. Let’s go somewhere more private and talk.”

The smile on her face could’ve split her face in two. She hopped onto her platform heeled feet and tugged on my hands. “Come with me.”

And I did. I would.

I
WAS EXHAUSTED—BOTH
mentally and physically drained. I hadn’t slept a wink since I left Dom’s apartment three nights ago, and keeping food down was a bust as well. I was only surviving on pure will at this point, and the sheer need to pay our bills. My hours working as a CNA paid the rent, but my tips paid for everything else. Raising a kid wasn’t easy, but it was a job I was proud to do. Toby was the only family I had left, and I had to do right by him, no matter how wholly I suffered.

“Get some rest, love. You look positively knackered.”

Victoria wrapped her arm around my shoulders and kissed my cheek. She and CJ were planning a trip to Myrtle Beach next week, and she wanted to make up the days she’d lose. Quite frankly, I was astonished they had lasted this long. It was obvious that CJ was crazy about her, and while he was good-looking, he was pretty dim-witted. However, he had surprised the hell out of me when Kami went into labor. To offer his car without second thought, and sit with Toby without a single gripe . . . maybe I was wrong about him. It wouldn’t be the first time I misjudged a guy.

We had enough girls on shift for me to cut out early. Even with my foul attitude, I had made enough in tips tonight to cover the rest of the light bill. I just wanted to crawl into bed and shut my eyes. Just shut out the world for the rest of the night and pretend the last 72 hours never happened. Maybe even the last week.

I was almost at the hallway headed for the exit, when I heard the most annoying laugh known to man. I’d gone nearly the entire night without running into Cherri—a rare gift when I needed it the most—but I guess my misery was inevitable.

If I were ever to haul off and backhand her, sending her flying right off her clear plastic hooker heels, this would be the day. I just didn’t have an ounce of patience left in me to deal with her smug attitude. So I took a deep breath, counted to five and stepped into the hall.

And froze.

He had her pushed against the wall, clawing her fishnet-covered thighs while he laved her neck with his tongue. He seemed so hungry for her, so desperate to get inside the skimpy lace boyshorts that did nothing to cover her ass cheeks. She pulled his hair, bringing his mouth to hers. When they kissed, I felt my whole world shatter into a million broken pieces. But that wasn’t the worst part. Far from it. Because while she stroked her tongue with Dom’s, she opened her eyes and looked at me, her gaze so icy, that I felt my blood run cold.

When Dom finally pulled away and wiped the red lipstick from his mouth, Cherri decided to twist the knife in my heart turning to me with a mocking grin. “Grab us a bottle of champagne, will ya? But knock before you come in.”

I visibly saw Dom’s back stiffen before he slowly turned his head to face me. His brow was furrowed at first, but then it smoothed into that impassive stare he had pinned on me the last time I saw him. The same look he wore when he told me he didn’t want me anymore.

“Hey Raven,” he said, his words empty as if he were talking to Joe Shmoe on the street. I couldn’t even answer. If I did, I would cry, and I’d be damned if I let them see me so broken.

When I turned around to walk the other way, I heard Cherri mutter, “How pathetic,” under her breath before laughing. Then there was the sound of a door closing.

I had hoped that being honest with him would draw us closer. I thought maybe—just maybe—he would understand what it was like to be beat down and humiliated. But I was wrong. About him, about us, about everything. I was wrong.

I had no more fight left in me. No more left to give. This was it. It was over.

Fuck that.

No, the hell it wasn’t.

I spun on my heel and marched to the backroom with a fire lit under my ass so hot that the rubber of my soles could have melted. Fuck knocking on the door. I would kick this bitch down if I had to. Luckily, they were both too stupid to lock it, so I swung it open and walked my happy ass inside, hitting the lights on the way in.

“What the hell?” Cherri screeched, scrambling up off her knees and covering those water balloons she called tits. “Get the fuck out!”

“No, bitch. You get out. I need to have a word with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” She laughed like she was an evil villain in a cartoon. “Dom isn’t anyone’s boyfriend, especially not to some gutter rat. Now get out. We’re busy.”