In the Nick of Time (34 page)

He’d lied to himself.

No, I need her to love me back…

He couldn’t stay in his little protected cocoon, singing himself sweet nothings, when the truth proved far more brutal and raw.

He walked into his room, straight to the small bathroom that only had a sink and toilet, barely enough room to turn around a full three hundred and sixty degrees. Twisting the faucet, he allowed the water to flow, and splashed himself down, rinsing all the stress away. He ran his fingers down his face, stretching his blue eyes, making them droopy like a hound dog’s. His body was tired, and his mind beyond exhausted. Turning on the light, he sat on the edge of his bed, still not feeling much like eating anything, despite Taryn’s urgings. Seconds passed, and he removed the wrinkly letter from his pocket, but refused to open it just yet.

I want to read it to someone I trust…someone I love. I want to read it to someone who doesn’t feel the need to say the right thing, or give me a clinical diagnosis. I just want to speak freely, get some stuff off my chest, no matter how sick and twisted it is. I need a space in that lady’s world, a front row seat on her lap, and then I can do it. Yeah…then, I can just let go in her arms…’cause I know she just might catch me when I fall… She just might catch me, and if she does, she’ll let me lie there for a minute or two, kiss me, and tell me everything would be alright…

S
he’d known she’d
gone too far, but she couldn’t help herself. She stood by the closed door, imagining him still standing on the other side for a moment or two. The invitation had been thrown out there, still warm as it lingered in the air from her lips to his. She’d perfectly plotted and sensibly schemed, used her abilities for evil versus good…or was it good after all? She stepped away from the entrance and slouched down on the nearby chair, causing it to slightly rock back and threaten to take her with it.

“Whoa…” She grinned as her body swayed before she caught her balance. And then, she simply sat… thinking… thinking… thinking…

Finally, her inquisitive nature was paying off in the most delicious way possible…
Nick.
Her body felt alive in ways she hadn’t experienced in so long.

How unexpected for this man to fill her head space so completely, so beautifully. To make her yearn for a human touch.

To make her want to
fuck.

What a drastic, scrumptious, unplanned change… Did she want this? Could she do it? For the longest time, she’d been caught as a prisoner of herself, vying to break free. She let no one close enough to know her.

So she wondered where they’d all go from here…

Nick, where are you taking me?

What am I doing? Can I go through with this?

I can’t give part of myself, I have to give fully. I didn’t think this through! What about the fine details? What is he going to do or say when he sees the real me?

Panic struck her as the frantic thoughts took over, darkening her mood. She knew what was to come, and in that, she settled, rocked a bit in her seat. She swallowed her budding trepidation, made a vow right then and there to not care but she knew she was only lying to herself. Tonight could very likely be an emotional disaster, but she had to test him, and examine herself in the process too. Besides, this was bigger than her worries, issues. She had to let go…step out on the scarred truth and cling to faith. This time, she’d help someone enter a safe zone, for he had none, and he was lost.

She couldn’t leave the man out in the cold. Nick needed someone to talk to.

She’d be that someone.

As she moved about her small room, cozy and well decorated, she placed AA Energizers inside of her battery-operated candles. She was up to no damn good, too, and barely felt ashamed. She smirked at the notion as she sashayed about in her over-sized black tank top with the Batman emblem and polka dot boy shorts. Since the man had hemmed her up against a tree that was covered in snow and ice and heated the inside of her mouth with his warm, long tongue, she hadn’t stopped fantasizing about what it would feel like to sit atop his throne, and ride that fucker like an L.A. Beach wave.

…Oh, how she missed summers in California for vacation…

SURF’S UP!

I hope he doesn’t have a little dick. I’m so sick of little dicks… Please have at least 6 1/2 inches! Is that too much to ask? Can you at least be average?! All these little dick mothafuckas…and then they have the nerve to talk shit. That’s what gets me. I was real with them, honest, let them know that we couldn’t continue. A few took it in stride but some drove it to another level. They tried it, yes, the fuck they did!

That football player was the worst! I won’t even say his name… San Diego Chargers, my ass. The only thing he was chargin’ was my front door when I told him to get the hell out. It felt like I was being fucked with a dumdum sucker, only not nearly as sweet. They can call me a hairless bitch now all they want, I don’t give a damn. And the cancer jokes don’t mean shit to me, either. Nothing is off limits, not even my damn disease, and that’s fine because I discovered a long time ago that people are truly fucked up. Besides, I can’t be mad about what is true… I AM bald headed. That’s a fact, and that bastard’s cock being the length and width of a millipede was a fucking fact, too!

It’s like the smaller the cock, the bigger the asshole. Overcompensation! Putting memes about me all over social media… I could have been petty and lashed out, even posted pics of their shit. Well, guess what? Hair grows back. But you’re grown, mothafucka. That little ass short stumpy dick is forever…

She angrily opened up a small drawer, then quickly calmed after her uneasy jaunt down the lane of her dating past. Fact of the matter was, she’d been hurt—badly—and she recognized it as such, but refused to dwell on that emotion, for it had a low return. No, she needed to be paid for her damn time. She’d lost so-called friends and lovers during her ordeal, and it almost had her ache more than the cancer that ravished her body and tried to steal her joy and spirit.

“Ahhh, there it is!” Reaching inside, she removed two white and green floral printed Dixie cups, several packs of sugar, and a canister of Country-Time Lemonade. She sat on her bed, waiting for the sexy bastard to arrive. She watched the clock like a hawk, surprised at how nervous she’d suddenly become as the time drew closer and closer. Running her thumb up and down her inner palm, she felt the clamminess of her skin. And then, the time came… A shadow darken her door at exactly 2:04 A.M.…

Nick’s timing was always impeccable. He was one of the few residents that
always
arrived a couple of minutes early for group, classes, and activities. He often volunteered to help clean up, and set up and assist with demonstrations. The man dove into his treatment headfirst, and she was impressed by his dedication.

She heard the doorknob twist and a meager stream of light basked the room, spilling over to her. He entered and quickly closed the door behind himself, not saying one damn word.

So there the man stood, tall, looming and dressed in a black hoodie with matching black jogging pants, moving as quietly as could be. For a split second, she was no longer certain it was him, for he said nothing, and avoided eye contact altogether.

…Let me see those bluish gray eyes… The storm…

“Nick?” she whispered, suddenly sitting up as a tinge of fear struck her deep within her core. Was it that creepy guard? The one they’d just hired? He kept ogling her, licking his lips when he walked past her as if he were famished and she were something to sop up with a buttery biscuit. Or maybe it was Desmond, the retired Sunday schoolteacher and choir director who was now a patient. That persistent son of a bitch wouldn’t take no for an answer. No, it couldn’t be Desmond; the man wasn’t that tall, and he had an annoying habit of humming all the time, a collection of old Negro spirituals. Why stop now?

“Yeah…it’s me.” He removed his hoodie and looked down at her, making her feel tiny, and a bit helpless…weak, yet strong…protected, yet vulnerable. Had he grown? His height made her groin roil and salute him with wet appreciation.

“Boy!” She punched her bed angrily, snatching her sexual excitement by the throat, and throwing it overboard. “Why’d you crawl in here like
that
? All stooped over like the Hunchback of Notre Dame?! You can see I only have these three candles going,” she said, pointing to her left. “And you come in here like the damn candy man, tiptoeing about, not saying anything, about to open your mouth and let a swarm of bees come get me. I’m allergic to bee stings! I thought I was going to have to karate chop somebody!” She fought the urge to laugh at her own antics, but she meant what she said.

Why’d he do that?!

He burst out laughing, then covered his mouth, his eyes all big like a child’s while hiding in a closet. Giggling, she fell back onto her pillow.

“You watch too many horror movies.” He sighed as he bent down and removed his sneakers.

“Now, come on over here and sit down…” She patted the bed beside her, feeling like a dirty little pervert as she tried to make out the bastard’s dick imprint. But, he was moving too much, the room was dark, and his pants too baggy. She now hated his pants…

I’m a predator. This man has come to me for help, and here I am preparing to seduce him… I am not worth a damn.

She cracked up at herself as he got comfortable beside her, so comfortable that he wore a twisted smirk dipped in a smidgen of haughtiness. He leaned back against her, using her shoulder as a pillow, forcing her back against her small headboard.

“Oh, make yourself at home,” she said, laughing lightly. “You are a mess.”

“I am.” His teeth gleamed when he raised his head to look her over with a grin, thumbed the tip of her nose with his index finger. “Yeah, this is nice…” His deep voice vibrated through her as he lay back against her. His heavy weight pushed against her body like he needed her to keep him up, hold him up, love him up…

Running her fingers through his soft hair, she cleared her throat and shifted her head to stare into the man’s eyes. “Are you procrastinating?”

“A little…”

“Well, I think at this point it’s like ripping off a Band-Aid. Just tear that joker off and get it over with.” She continued to stroke his hair, slowly, slowly, slowly…

He crawled up her body a bit further; the intensity in his eyes caused her heart to pound a bit harder.

“Uh…” Weakly, she pushed her palms against his broad shoulder blades, trying to keep a semblance of a gap between their bodies. He felt so damn heavy and hard—like a mass of iron across her form—and it surprised the hell out of her. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be reading that letter to me…” She tried to sound convincing, squeaking out the words in a very special, artificial way.

“Why don’t you…” His lust-filled eyes roamed her body, taking in inventory as he scanned her up and down, then he slicked his tongue seductively against his lower lip. “…Help me relax a bit?” He sighed as he pinned her down as if she were his property, then laid a gentle kiss across her lower cheek, contradicting his commanding hold upon her. He kissed the tip of her nose, offering a sensuous smile. “I’m so worked up. I don’t think I can read the letter right now…” He moaned as his fingertips gently stroked her arm.