Casting Stones (Stones Duet #1) (30 page)

“You think you’re so much better than me.” The derision drips from every word. “You’re just like me.”

I snap at her as I spit out angry words. “I’m nothing like you.” I grab the small black and white picture of two smiling children from the nightstand.

With firm hands, she yanks my shoulders and forces me to stand in front of the cracked mirror. We could almost pass for sisters if I hadn’t cut off and bleached my hair. Same height. Same figure. Same green eyes.

“You.Are.Exactly.Like.Me.” Her grip on my arms gets firmer with each word.

I turn to face her head on. “
You
are a drug addict. You need help.”

“What I need is for
my daughter
to stay here with me.”

“Why? So I can check on you to make sure you haven’t overdosed or to open the door so those animals can fuck you?”

A hard slap stings my face. “How dare you?”

I glare at her defiantly.

“I’m your goddamn mother!”

A humorless chuckle slips past my lips. “Now you want to be my mother? I needed a mother when I was a little girl.” As much as I want to reach out and soothe my burning cheek, I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.

I brush past her and ignore the vile words she hurls in my direction.

When I reach the bottom step, I hear the window open and look up to see her standing there running her hands all over her face as she wipes away the tears streaming down her face.

As if she were a distraught child, she wails, “I’m sorry, Remy. Come back. I’m sorry.”

I toss the bulky bag over my back and adjust the strap diagonally across my body. I straddle my bike and pedal away as I block out the familiar image mingled with her words of untruth. I pull into late afternoon traffic and hope the honking horns will drown out the voice of shame telling me to turn around and be a good daughter.

SWEAT BEADS AND
drips on my forehead as I carry my bike onto the final landing. I slide down and bury my head on the bag that is still slung around me chest. Minute after minute, I sit and think. I think about “the Haves and the Have Nots.” I think about the beautiful man on the other side of the door. I think about David’s words.

My phone buzzes and reveals a lengthy text message and two missed calls from Shane. I sit there and read it in silence until the door opens abruptly and Shane notices me sitting there on the wooden planked floor.

“Remy, what are you doing?” he asks as he drops to a crouch. “Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?” he inquires as takes my face in his hands, searching for any sign of mistreatment.

I shake my head and mumble, “No.” I mentally chastise myself for lying straight to his face.

“Why are you on the floor?”

I blink quickly as I try to conjure up an excuse.

“And why is your face red? And why haven’t you answered any of my calls or texts?” He fires question after question before I have time to think of an answer.

I swallow nervously, unsure of what his reaction will be. “One, I’m tired and two, I stopped by the apartment to get some of my things.” Gazing into his blues, I hope he understands what I’m asking.

He eyes the overstuffed duffel bag. “You’re going to stay with me?”

“If you’ll have me.” I nod and smile crookedly.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time!” He leans forward and kisses my mouth, deepening the kiss as his tongue begins its duel with mine.

“Get a room!” an obnoxious voice states loudly.

With our lips millimeters apart, Shane and I both turn to see a young, good-looking guy standing there, carefully balancing two heavy boxes in his arms. He looks strangely familiar to me; I know I’ve seen him before. Confusion blankets my face as Shane pulls me to a standing position and pulls the strap over my head, relieving my sore shoulders.

“Hey Brandon. What’s going on?” Shane asks as he drops my bag and reaches for one of the boxes that is about to topple over. “I thought you were moving in over the weekend.”

Disappointment hits me like a ton of bricks. My eyes begin to flutter at the thought of staying here while this Brandon guy crashes here, too.

“I wanted to get settled in before the weekend. Yo, I’m going to have a party and invite some bangin’ girls.”

A party with bangin’ girls? I think spending some time at Jenna’s might be an option after all. I know she doesn’t mind, but I hate invading her space. While I’m usually comfortable in my own skin, Jenna has no problem walking around with nothing but her birthday suit on. Nothing at all. Nada. A muffled chuckle escapes at the memory of walking into the kitchen while Jenna made breakfast for her and her naked companion.

Shane glances at me oddly before offering words of advice or warning to Brandon. “You’re going to get evicted before the end of the month!”

I think about the notice I left on my bed. I’ve experienced it so many times before. Moving was never a big deal because we never had much. The move to another run-down apartment usually took one quick trip. I hate that I have to reach out to the landlord to see how much of a debt we owe.

“Brandon, this is my girlfriend Remy.”

After giving me a quick once over, staring at my boobs a moment too long, Brandon smirks. “Hey, what’s up?” He does a double take and narrows his eyes. “Do I know you?”

I shake my head. “Nope.” Internal sirens fire simultaneously when I realize that I have seen Brandon and some of his friends on Friday nights for several months. There are some guys you don’t forget.

I should open my mouth and offer to grab a box or something, but I don’t. I would much rather Brandon took his boxes, his party and himself elsewhere.

Just then both men turn and squeeze past my bike, continuing to walk down the hall until they reach the last door. Like a drink of cold water on a hot day, calm flows through me as a sense of relief releases with a quiet sigh.

“Hey, you coming?” Shane nods at me and then winks.

Not yet, but I sure hope to soon! God knows I’ve been distracted all day just thinking about it. I can’t wait to have Shane all to myself.

“Yep,” I suppress the laughter and offer a shy grin. I’m sure he detects the playful tone in my voice.

Brandon’s apartment mirrors Shane’s. I’m glad it’s at the end of the hall. I have no doubt there will be plenty of noise complaints from all the wall banging that will occur on a regular basis.

Within forty-five minutes, Brandon’s boxes are lugged. With subtle brushes of his hand against mine, Shane ignites a fire deep in the pit of my belly. When Brandon walks into another room, Shane pulls my body flush against his. Roaming hands and stolen kisses leave me wanton and desperate for him. We quickly say our goodbyes as Brandon stands in the doorway before turning back to unpack his belongings.

The door closes and reopens. “Yo, Shane. Thanks, bro.”

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Shane calls back as he puts his phone to his ear and slings my duffel bag over his shoulder. Just as I begin to wheel my bike into the apartment, I catch Brandon’s eye and sly smile before he closes the door.

“Night, Remy. Nice tat.”

I look down and rub the small tattoo on my wrist and try to ward off the goose bumps along my skin. The sound of Shane’s voice as he ends his call pulls me away from the inexplicable feeling of dread.

“Did you carry this up here all by yourself?” he asks as he parks my bike behind the couch as I plop my weary body, kick off my sneakers and rest my feet on the coffee table.

“I did.”

“You should’ve called me. I would’ve gotten it for you.”

“From Southie, remember?” I smirk as I close my eyes, feeling physically, mentally and emotionally drained. When I reopen my eyes, I find Shane looking at me with a peculiar grin on his face, paired with raised eyebrows. Immediately, it dawns on me that he might not appreciate my feet on the furniture. Some people don’t like that; some children get in trouble for that.

“Sorry,” I swallow nervously, and without delay, I remove my feet and lower them to the floor.

“You’re comfortable here… I like that.” Shane sits beside me and pulls my legs onto his lap. “I want you to feel at home.” With firm hands he begins to massage the soles of my feet causing me to hum with pleasure.

“You like that?”

I hum again.

“How about this?” he inquires as his hands move to my calf, slowly trailing around to my knee, pushing the material out of the way.

My legs fall open, accepting his offer as tiny circles make their way upward.

“What happened to your leg?” The brusque tone of his voice startles me. My eyes flash open and see the bruise that’s almost faded. The once purple mark is a shade of yellow.

“It’s nothing.”

His forehead creases. “It looks like it was pretty bad.”

“Eh…all part of the job I guess.” I smile tightly as I look away.

“Maybe you should find another job. Better yet, quit it! You’re always getting hurt.”

“I’m okay.” I didn’t think he ever noticed the small marks along my legs. He’s more perceptive than I thought. I just assumed that his beautiful blues focused on a different part of my body when we were naked in bed.

“Up you go!” In two seconds flat, Shane stands and pulls me with him.

“Where are we going?” I want to beg and plead to allow me a few more minutes of rest. I don’t think I could take another step.

“In the shower.” My head snaps up and my eyes meet his. As if I drank ten energy drinks, adrenaline surges in my veins and I stand, ready and willing to follow him. Long gone are thoughts of needing rest for my weary body.

Article for article, Shane and I remove each other’s clothes until my nipples are tight buds, my core drenched and his erection is stiff and firm. My need for him is indescribable.

The stark white bathroom begins to fill with steam as we step in and let the water rain down on us. I reach for the bar of soap, lather my hands and begin the torturous routine of running my hands all over his hard body. I pay attention to the thick bicep, lifting his arm to wash the solid black lines that sprawl across his ribcage. My thumb circles the rectangles of the inscribed dog tags. My shoulder rise and fall with a quick shudder.

“Remy,” he whispers my name reverently as he tips my chin upward. “Are you crying?”

“No.” A broken and weak voice lies. I choke back the sob which threatens to erupt. The events of the past few days are too much, topped with the idea that Shane could have been hurt during his time in the military sends an ache through my heart and tears to pour out of my eyes. Images of me as a little girl, cold and alone, match the images of him cold and alone half way across the word. One by one these mental pictures march around my head in succinct, rhythmic steps. While I hungered and thirsted behind closed doors, he hungered and thirsted in the desert, defending our country. I know he always says he was doing his duty, but I hate that he’s endured any of that. I see the effects of deployment and combat; it’s not easy or pretty.

Just then, another light above the mirror flashes and pops, darkening the small bathroom. My hand is wedged in between his body and mine when he startles. Tightly he pulls me close, securing my head beneath his chin while his hands shield me.

“Hey,” I call out, chuckling at his overreaction.

“Quiet,” he whispers and I still at his cautious tone.

I spread my fingers across his skin that covers his heart and I’m flooded with alarm at the frantic beating I feel.

I let him hold me; I let him keep me safe.

While the hot water continues pelt us, Shane showers the top of my head with a thousand kisses until he finally loosens the stifling grip and his breathing returns to normal. Minutes later he reaches down for the bar of soap and begins to bathe me as if everything were perfectly normal.

Strong yet gentle hands wash my entire body.

“Shane?” I caress his wet cheek. “I lo—”

A trembling hand stills on my back. His piercing eyes search mine and silently beg me to continue the phrase.

“I love when you hold me. I feel safe with you.” A small smile graces my lips.

“I will always keep you safe.”

Every part of my body is again lathered and washed. He pulls my body flush against his, my back to his front. I reach back and lace my fingers together behind his neck, allowing him unobstructed access to my full breasts. I feel his erection slide in between my legs, coaxing me to open for him. Using the tiled walls, I brace myself for the single, deep thrust and continuous slow plunging of his dick, shoving harder and harder into me. Over and over, he drives into me until I clench my eyes and shout his name loudly, letting the wave of release consume me.

Seconds later, I feel his body tense as he surrenders all control and comes hard, filling me completely. I miss the connection the moment his knees give out and he collapses in the small tub.

“Shane?” I turn quickly to find him slumped with a smile on his face and his erection waning.

I run my fingers through his hair to uncover his gorgeous face. I tap his cheek lightly as he reopens his eyes. “You scared me! I thought you passed out!”

“That would be a first,” he chuckles as he reaches for my hand, pulling down to him.