Insanity (7 page)

She let out a sigh and shook her head. “I think you know the answer to that.”

“No,” I said, grinding my teeth. “I honestly don’t.”

“I want you to stop seeing, Damien.”

I opened my mouth to tell her that I can’t. I can’t stay away. I can’t because I love her son like he’s the oxygen in my lungs, the plasma in my bloodstream, and the rapid pulsating beat of my heart.

But she doesn’t give me the chance to profess any of that. She closed my mouth with a frown and five words. “Stay away from my son.”

No
was on the tip of my tongue, but again she cut me off. “Damien has a bright future. He’s smart, dedicated, loyal, and passionate. He’ll take our company to the next level.” Her eyes flitted over to mine. “When he graduates from Yale of course.” I reached the point where I couldn’t even look at her anymore. My eyes had shifted downward, focusing on a few cat-tails surrounding the lake. “He’ll make an excellent husband and father someday too. Just not for—.”

I cut her off with a whisper, “Someone like me.”

“I’m sorry that I had to be so blunt, dear, but it’s the truth. No son of mine is going to be involved with a girl of your means.”

I scowled and scrunched my eyebrows together. “Means?”

She flicked her wrist at me and shook her head. “You know a girl who comes from a family with a reputation. You don’t have a background. And you don’t have a future.”

I shook my head and let out a soft laugh. “No. You mean because I’m not like you?”
A frigid bitch who has more money than God. Forgive me, but that was something I’d never want to be.

She’d pursed her lips and looked like she was thinking, then said, “No. Technically, that’s not what I meant.” She faced the lake again and folded her arms across her chest. “If you came from a decent family and were raised the way a young woman should be raised, we might be having a different conversation.” For some reason, I didn’t believe that one bit. “You know,” she continued, “my older son went slumming once.” I sneered at her when she wasn’t looking. Slumming? Did she just say slumming? “Fell for some waitress when he was away at college. But it didn’t take long for him to see reason.”

I heard my name echoing somewhere in the distance. Marlena peeked over her shoulder and I followed, watching Damien as he approached, a wide smile on his lips. “Adelaide!”

He was getting closer and closer. When he was only a few feet away Marlena leaned down, her lips centimeters away from my earlobes and whispered, “Do the right thing, dear. Don’t drag this out any further than you already have and save yourself from suffering a broken heart down the road. The longer you let this continue, the more painful it will be.” At Damien’s arrival, she straightened her posture and smiled. She brushed my shoulder and walked past me and her son, throwing her shoulders back and pointing her sloped, narrow nose to the sky.

Damien moved closer to me and kissed me gently on the cheek. “What was that about?”

I couldn’t move. My whole body felt like it was being stung over and over again by an angry hive of wasps. Stingers imbedded. Welts everywhere. My skin was throbbing. Tears glazed over my eyeballs and I tried to blink them back, but it was no use. I turned away from Damien and swallowed hard. “Can you walk me home?”

“Is something wrong?” There was worry in his tone. “What did she say to you?”

I exhaled and sucked back my tears. “Nothing is wrong,” I assured him with a tiny grin. “I’m just tired.”

“Oh.” He smiled back at me and kissed my temple. “Well, let’s go then.”

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, while I kept my eyes on the ground, trying desperately to hold back the sobs that were stuck in my throat.

I never told him what his mother said to me because deep down inside as painful as it was to hear, I knew she was right.

The truth is we could be defiant. We could go against his parents’ hopes and wishes. But where will that get us? I know that loving someone as much as I love Damien is worth every bit of fight and struggle we’ll have to go through to be happy. But that’s what I think. What about him? Someday he might resent me for being the cause of him having to give up everything. And for me to have to live with the fact that someday he might wish he would have listened to his family, went to college, made something of his life and never abandoned his bright future by falling in love with me, well, that thought is too wicked, and too painful to bear.

Scuffing footsteps bring me back to the now.

I peek over my shoulder and Damien is still walking behind me. He kicks a rock and it bounces several times on the dirt road, stopping inches away from my feet. I’ve reached my breaking point. He needs to let me get over him. He needs to move on with his life so I can move on with mine as miserable as it is. “Just stop it all ready,” I snap at him when he kicks another rock.

Damien lifts his head with widened eyes and a smile on his lips. “Did you just talk to me?” Before I can respond he rushes over to me, sweeps me up in his arms, and twirls me around in a circle. “Addy, I’ve missed you so much. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. Why didn’t you call me back? Why have you been ignoring me?”

My eyes sear into his deep blue eyes. I tilt my chin and motion for him to put me down. He releases his grip on me and our eyes lock as he slides me down the length of his body. The friction of my body against his sends rippling streams of want to the tips of my nerve endings. I’m crackling and sparking like a firecracker on a long stretch of sidewalk during a Fourth of July picnic. Desire whips through my gut and I have to use every amount of will power I have to push myself away from him. I start walking and stop after a few steps, meeting his gaze from over my shoulder. There’s a vacant expression in my eyes, a buzzing in my ears, and an ache in my heart. “Damien, it’s over,” my voice quivers. “Just forget me. Just go home and forget me.”

Hurt and disbelief swirl together, sparking in his eyes. He stalks toward me, grips my arm, and spins me around to face him. He cups my face with both hands, massaging my cheeks with his thumbs and I keep my eyes on the ground. Heat from his hands burns my cheeks and sets my whole body ablaze. I’m on fire for him and I do the best I can to hide it. But my body betrays me. My cheeks flush and tears swell in my eyes, residing in the corners, I close them and let out a soft breath. “Addy, look at me.”

I shake my head. That’s the only thing I can do. I’ve reached the point where the pain of doing this—letting go of him—is spreading like an ingested poison. “Look at me, please,” he urges, his voice cracking with emotion. “Please.” I don’t obey, so Damien takes it upon himself to move my head up. “Open your eyes.”

“Why are you making this harder on me than it already is?” I cry as I reach the point where my insides crumble, crashing to the ground like a porcelain vase, pieces of ceramic everywhere.

Slowly, I open my eyes and Damien’s gaze hasn’t wavered. He’s staring deep into my eyes searching. Probing. Penetrating. Maybe he’s looking for the truth. Maybe he thinks that if he stares into my eyes long enough and hard enough he’ll sway me. He leans in closer. “You don’t want to do this,” he whispers.

“Of course I don’t,” I confess. “I love you, but this is for the best.”

He slits his eyes and his fingertips glide across my cheek, tucking a lowly tendril of my ebony hair behind my ear. His fingertips, they feel like fire pokers just removed from the hearth. They scorch my flesh and I’m surprised by how much I enjoy the burn. He backs me up into the trunk of an oak a few paces away from the road. As the rough gradient texture from the trunk scrapes against the bare skin on my back and the damp musky scent wafts up my nostrils, Damien presses his body against mine, pinning me. “Who says?”

I’m breathing heavy. Pleasure blasts through me ricocheting off the walls of my stomach. My heart beats so fast that all of my other functioning organs struggle to keep up the pace. “Who says what?” I gasp, trying to control my breathing.

“Who says this is for the best?”

“Me?”

He raises a sculpted eyebrow. “You?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“I don’t believe that.”

It’s amazing how he can see right through me. It’s amazing how all it takes for him to know what I’m really thinking is to look into my eyes. Still, I try to lie, “It’s the truth.” There’s a sliver of uncertainty in my voice and I know I don’t sound believable.

Damien’s lips are resting against my ear. “I beg to differ,” he murmurs. “Addy, living one day without you would never be for the best. I want you every minute of every day. Forever. I love you.”

I struggle beneath him and try to break free from his captivating gaze, stunning face, and his muscled body and the way it feels to have it pressed against me. I’m losing control of myself, my mind, and what I’d told myself I was going to do when he followed me on my morning walk.

A low raspy chuckle leaves Damien’s throat and for a moment, I think he may be losing it too. He grabs both of my wrists in one hand and pins them above my head in a death grip. He presses his hips harder against mine. “Stop fighting this.” His hot full lips rest against mine. “Stop fighting us.” He begins a slow, sensual dance with my mouth, starting with little teasing sweeps of his bottom lip against my top one. I open my mouth in response and he assaults my tongue tangling his with it.

Our kissing intensifies and he slips his free hand up my skirt on an exploration expedition. His palm slides from my pelvis up to my lower abdomen. My skin prickles and there’s a field of goosebumps on my arms. Love, lust, and passion melt together inside of me and I can feel the want for him swelling between my legs. “I’m so sorry,” I moan against his lips. “I love you so much.” I do and sometimes I feel like I love him so much it aches when I’m not near him. It’s like tiny pricks from a sewing needle jabbing into me repeatedly.

He releases my hands from his grasp. He leaves a trail of kisses from the crook of my neck to my collarbone before resting his lips against my ear. The warmth from his lips sends a shiver of overwhelming pleasure down my spine. It vibrates within my core and kicks my heartbeat into overdrive. He pulls me tighter against his chest and I can feel his heart beating in sync with mine.

Two hearts beating.

Side by side.

Flesh against flesh.

And an intense unwavering love between two people that will never die.

Chapter 8

~AFTER~

Someone is hovering over me. The darkness of their shadow is cutting off the spring sunshine that’s coming in through the window. I open an eye and Aurora is staring down at me. “What is it?” I groan and roll over, wrapping my pillow around my head.

“You slept in late,” she tells me. “Meds are in five.”

I wish I could say fuck the meds, but I don’t. Instead, I stretch and sit upright on my cot as Aurora prances back over to hers. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

“My God.” I did sleep in really late. Usually I’m up by seven.

“You didn’t scream last night,” Aurora informs me.

“I guess that’s a good thing, right?”

She shrugs. “You kept repeating the name Damien.” Aurora plops down on her cot. “Who is he?”

I don’t elaborate. “Just some guy I used to know.”

I don’t want to talk about my relationship with Damien with her. For one thing, I barely know her and I don’t know enough about her to trust her. And another thing is, well, it’s just no one’s business who I dream about or talk about in my sleep but my own.

Marjorie is through our door a nanosecond later and after Aurora and I both pretend to take our pills she’s on to the next room. It isn’t until Marjorie is gone and Aurora is handing me her slobbery meds that I notice what she’s wearing. Jeans and a long sleeve black shirt with a boat-neck collar. My eyes sweep over her from the top of her head to the floor. “Where did you get normal clothes?”

A part of me thinks she might have stolen them, but she quickly banishes that thought when she says, “Marjorie.”

“That’s not fair,” I snap. I hate having to walk around in my hospital gown. It makes me feel naked.

“I’ve been on good behavior lately,” Aurora says with a shrug. “You should try it sometime. Good behavior equals rewards.”

I’m desperate to get out of my hospital gown. Maybe I should try to be on my best behavior at least for a little while.

A few hours later, I sit in the rec room.

It’s quiet today. I’m glad. Cynthia and most of her gang are absent. Only two are here and it’s the blonde with the really long hair and the chubby brunette. Without Cynthia, they don’t have too much to say to each other, so they’ve been sitting on the sofa watching television. Aurora is in her usual corner, acting like her crazy/uncrazy self, and I’m sitting in front of the window like I do on most days.

Damien is outside with the boys today, his back resting against the chain link fence. I’ve been staring at him for the last twenty minutes. Closing my eyes, I envision us together minus our clothing. I kiss his shoulder and trace the dip from his left shoulder to his right with my fingertips. He has one hand positioned flat on the small of my bare back. His fingers move slowly and every time a fingertip glides against my skin I feel like there are rockets going off inside me. The feeling is overwhelming. It feels too real and the realness saddens me so much I open my eyes abruptly only to find him staring back at me through the window.

Cool blue eyes penetrate mine. Placing my palm against the glass I mouth, “I love you.”

He mouths the words back then blows me a kiss. The juvenile action hits a nerve and I bite back the tears that spring to my eyes. What’s wrong with me? I know he’s here, so that should be enough right? At least I’m not left wondering what if? So why every time I see him do I get so emotional?

“Who are you looking at?”

I jump, clutching my chest as my heartbeat kicks into overdrive when blondie with the long hair appears on my left. Her sudden arrival startles me so much that I’m not sure what to say so I reply with, “Huh?”

She looms closer to the window and stares out the glass into the decayed courtyard. “I said who are you looking at?” Her eyes flit over to me. “You’ve been staring out this window for the last thirty minutes. You’re not just staring at the dead grass, are you?”