Requisite Vices (18 page)

“You are an incredibly alluring woman. Your moans…your screams. I love listening to you. A man can become addicted to sounds like those.”  He breathes.

I blush, and bury my face against his chest, kissing the glistening skin and tasting the salt from his sweat on my lips. He kisses my forehead as my eyes flutter and close, my body completely drained of every ounce of energy. I can’t muster enough to speak, and I let myself succumb to darkness and my dreams.

Chapter 19

I’m alone in his bed
.
The sun is high in the sky, and the heat caused from its intrusion through the windows this morning has waned, if only slightly. I pad into the living room, where he’s typing away on his laptop in the same position he always seems to be in. I’m still naked, and quickly move over to the table to grab my clothes while attempting to cover myself with my hands. He peeks up at me as I scurry by, and chuckles.

“Please, my dear. I’ve seen it all, now. There’s no need to feel embarrassed.”

“I know…” I reply, suddenly very aware of my nakedness “but if it’s all the same, I’d like to get dressed.”

He waves his hand as if giving me permission, and I scoop up my clothes and pull them on sans panties, as they’re still lying, shredded, on the floor at his feet. I find my phone on the table next to my clothes; he must’ve picked it up for me.

“I took the liberty of talking to your friend.”

I cock an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t break his eyes from his work.

“You were asleep, and she must’ve called a dozen times. I didn’t want to be responsible for sending your friend to the hospital with a panic attack, and so, I spoke with her to ease her mind.”

He did what?

He glances up for a moment to assess the look on my face then turns back to his work.

“I explained to her that I was a friend of yours, and that you were tired from making the trip so early in the morning. I reassured her that you were safe, that I would let no harm come to you, and that you stopped here at my request. I told her I had you eat, then you were so tired you could barely stand, and so I let you sleep a bit before your trip back home. She sounded quite grateful. She’s a pleasant girl, that friend of yours. She cares and worries deeply for you. So as not to make me out to be a liar, I have some eggs and toast on the counter if you’re hungry.”

I take a deep breath to ease my anger. I don’t like anyone touching my phone, and him taking the liberty of speaking with Riley was entirely inappropriate, even if it was under the best intentions.

“I’m not all that hungry. Thank you, though.”

“Suit yourself.”

I’m speechless. I would be incredibly surprised if she really believed anything he said. I’m sure she’s at least a bit suspicious; however, he is quite gifted with his words, so maybe it isn’t as farfetched as I may think…

“I do owe you a trip around town, sometime. Sadly, it won’t be today. I have a lot of work to catch up on and it’s already past noon. You’ll forgive me, I hope?”

His passion and warmth have disappeared from his voice, and his demeanor makes me question my own memories of the hours before. He voice, though tinged with that hint of concern that so often accompanies his words, sounds a bit more business-like than I was hoping for. It sounds like we’re just discussing work, and nothing more.

“That’s fine. I probably should head home soon anyway.”

“Mhm.” he mumbles, his fingers dancing along the keys of his computer. 

I grab my keys and belongings, and move towards the door. He gets so engrossed in his work, and I can relate. I understand…don’t I?

As I open the door, I feel his hand on my shoulder. The silence of his movements is a bit unsettling, and I jump at his touch. He turns me to face him, wraps me in his arms and presses his lips passionately against mine. As he pulls away, he tucks one of my curls behind my ear then kisses my forehead. The touch of his lips to my head sends relief washing through my body mixed with …something I can’t quite put my finger on. What is that feeling?

“I had fun.” He smiles, running the tip of his finger over my nose. I can still smell myself on his skin, and it’s so sexy.

“Me too.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. I haven’t felt this infatuated since high school, and silently scold myself for acting so childish. Blushing on a dime is embarrassing. I should have a better hold on myself.

“The next time we meet, I expect you to bring all of those lovely little toys you’ve shown me.”

The blush deepens and he smiles, leaning down to press another gentle kiss to my lips before moving back to the couch to continue his work. I walk out the door and slip into my car, my mind still struggling to believe everything that has happened despite my body showing all the evidence. I slip in my headset and call Riley, praying to whatever divine being exists that she won’t shiv me when I walk through the door.

“Hey, Cass!” she answers excitedly.

Wow, she sounds chipper.

“Riley, I’m sorry about earlier, I must’ve…”

“Oh, Cass, I had no idea you were so exhausted! Why didn’t you just say that? You poor thing. Are you on your way home? I can make dinner. What about a steak? It’s a nice day so far, and I bet it’d be a great evening to break out the grill. I’m still mad, why didn’t you tell me you’d been working so hard! Here, I thought something awful was going on, like you were hooked on cocaine or something.” She chirps. It doesn’t sound like she took a single breath, and I’m surprised when she stops talking so abruptly.

“Riley, when have you ever known me to take drugs?”

“Well! I don’t know. Never, I suppose. That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t start!”

I laugh and tell her to pick whatever she wants for dinner, then hang up to continue the drive. That girl has one of the most active imaginations I’ve ever seen. Cocaine. Really? Silly girl; alcohol and sex are the only drugs I need.

Chapter 20

The sun streams throug
h
the windshield and plays along my hands as images of the hours before meld with the open road. His scent permeates my car, drifting from my clothes to mingle with the interior. It’s saturated in every cotton thread of my clothing and I’m hopelessly addicted. My attempt to take even the slightest bit of control of the situation, and of myself, only ended in my complete and utter obliteration. I caved, and I silently chastise myself up over it. When will I be able to gain control over my own actions and desires? I’m a slave to that ever present fuming fire. The smallest spark and I’m consumed, doomed to burst and scatter as ash on the winds.

I sigh and roll down the windows to take a breath of fresh air, no matter how hot and stifling it may be. Slipping on the radio, I silently pray that I’ll find something a bit more upbeat, but have no such luck.

Another deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Nice and slow. I have other things I should be thinking about. My work. My friends. Well, friend, at least.

I’m struggling and grasping for some ground over my heart and the lust-filled beast. The thought of going home and pining over this man who seems to have taken control of me disgusts me. Why? Why should I wait on him if he’s too busy to keep in regular contact with me?

My hands grip the steering wheel and I push the memories aside. Oh, but how wonderful they are. But what is this pain that keeps gnawing at me…

Ugh
.

I dig my nails into my palm.

Wake the fuck up.
I groan.
Every thought should not scream for him. This is no way to live
.

I pull into the driveway of the house, a constant war within my head raging the entire drive home. I’m assaulted at the door by Riley, who practically throws herself at me and wraps her arms around me in a giant hug. It seems that, whatever Delacroix said, has made her feel guilty about giving me such a hard time. I feel bad letting her think my demeanor was anything other than selfish, but I am too emotionally exhausted to try and set the record straight.

I smile, and hug her back. Satisfied with my gesture, she dashes into the kitchen. I follow her, but only to grab a bottle of wine and a glass, then walk out the back door and settle into an outdoor couch. I start a spark in the fire pit and curl up, my arm propped under my head as I lay on my side. The temperature is brutal outdoors, but I don’t care. I want to focus on something other than him, and the dancing flames coupled with the wine may help. I hope.

As the flames begin to pick up, Riley comes out with a tray of sliced watermelon and sets it on the small table between my couch, and the matching armchair she settles into. She picks at the watermelon as she stares into the flames.

“Cass, how long have I known you?”

I bite back my response. I hope this isn’t one of her talks about trust and openness and communication. Sometimes I feel like she’s my wife instead of my friend. I wonder if it’s like that with everyone; where your best friend becomes so close that they’re more like your relationship partner than just your friend, or perhaps we’re a special case.

“Eight or nine years, now, I think? We met our second year in high school.”

“It feels like so much longer.”

She draws her feet up on the chair and rests her chin on her knees; her arms wrapped around her legs. The flickering flames dance in our eyes.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve come out here together.”

“Yeah…”

“Do you love him?”

My eyes never break from the flames, but I feel that same feeling from earlier tug on my heart. The ache hurts more and more the longer I try to ignore it. It couldn’t be that, could it?

I can’t bring myself to speak, because my throat feels as if it’s closed up on itself. There’s no point in asking who she’s talking about, because I know. She knows. Hiding things from her has never been an easy feat, and with the way I’m feeling, it’s no wonder she can see it all, painted on my face, etched out in the fresh scars of heartache and confusion.

“How could I love him? I don’t really know him that well. I barely know anything about him. Like, what’s his favorite color, or does he have any siblings, or where did he grow up. I don’t know what he likes to eat, or if he likes to do anything other than work.” I whisper, but my voice betrays me. It cracks and pitches at the end as I choke back my emotions. How can I love someone I don’t know? I want him, sure, but love him? That’s insane.

“You can love someone you don’t know. You can feel it.” She says, as she stares into the flames “Right there in your heart. You feel the ache and realize that, even if they never touched you, you’d still love them because it goes deeper. You love their heart, and their mind. You love listening to them talk, and love being around them. You can’t explain it. It is pain and joy, and all encompassing. It’s mean, and loving, and agonizing. It hurts, but it’s also complete and total bliss. You don’t have to know someone’s favorite color or their hobbies, sometimes. Sometimes, it’s just something that happens. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not something you can label or dissect or approach analytically. Your heart calls out for theirs, and their heart answers. You can love someone in an instant, Cass…even if you don’t know them as well as you’d like to. It’s still love.”

I’m stronger than this.

I repeat it over and over until the words feel wooden and void of life. Just a lie I’ve repeated to myself so many times that it’s formed this armor around my body; an impenetrable wall around me that’s allowed me to engage in promiscuous acts and forget them the next morning. Why? So I wouldn’t feel like this, so I wouldn’t feel this kind of emotion. Sex was simple. It was natural, primal and…simple. Love and emotions are different. They’re complex, living, breathing things that grow deep in your heart and sprout. No matter how many times you take an axe to it, no matter how many times you throw a match and watch its branches go up in flames, it comes back, sprouting and reaching its fingers into every inch of your body.

Yearning and aching, this feeling refuses to be snuffed out, and makes me both happy and completely miserable. Both glowing in the morning light, and a desecrated corpse rotting beneath the earth.  There seems to be no winning when it comes to this, and emotions were the last thing I ever wanted to feel. How did this sneak up on me? How could I let myself become so careless? And with him, of all people out there. The unobtainable and yet, so enticing, Delacroix.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be.

“Cass…” she whispered, as she moved from her seat to curl next to me. She rests her hand on my shoulder, gently stroking her fingers over my arm. “It’s okay.”

And I cried. Unabated and unrestrained, the tears seared my eyes and burned trails down my skin. Riley slid to her knees on the ground in front of me, holding me in her arms, and I cried. It was a pent up release of every emotion I’ve felt since meeting him. Why was I crying? Was it frustration, loneliness, or longing? Perhaps it was confusion or desire. Maybe it was even this…love…Riley spoke about. Just thinking of the word makes me want to rip my tongue from my mouth, and throw it into the ashes. Love…

Whatever the reason, the tears refused to end. All my strength…all those walls I put up to hide the memories, had shattered in an instant, and the tide I’d held back for so long, threatened to claim my life here and now. How many things have I done? How many questionable, unethical things have I succumbed to in the desire to satisfy my perceived needs? How many people have I hurt, used, and led on for my own selfish whims?

The memories flashed through my mind like a collage. Fractions of thoughts buried so deep as to have been forgotten by my conscious mind, were now bubbling at the surface and overwhelming me. They found release in my tears, in my incoherent babbling into Riley’s shoulder as she held me tight to keep me from shattering into a million, glittering pieces.

I told her everything. It had been so long since I let anyone in, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I had hid so much from myself and everyone around me, and I just wasn’t strong enough anymore.

I spoke of the lovers, of my nights in the company of all of those I had buried away and attempted to purge from every thought. I cried over my inner turmoil and exposed my demons to her, and she held me even tighter. She cried with me before the dancing flames of the fire pit and the amber glow of the setting sun. She sat by me, pulled me into her lap and cradled me as I continued to sob against her chest. Wet stains from my tears splattered over her pale blue skirt as she rubbed my back and whispered soothing words, the only ones of which I understood where her asking “More wine?”

“Hell yes.” I stutter between sobs.

As I drain the glass, I take a deep breath and look to the sky to gain some composure, willing my tears to stop flowing.

Deep breaths. I’m okay. Everyone needs a little emotional release once in a while.

With my eyes still focused on the sky as the blues blend to oranges and purples, I reach over and place my hand on Riley’s, squeezing it tight as I steady my breathing.

In and out
.

She grips my hand just as tightly and we sit in silence as the sun dips beneath the horizon, giving way to the brilliant, star-littered blanket of night sky. The fire burns low, allowing the light from the stars glimmer blindingly from their place in the heavens.

She’s the first to break the silence, which had sat between us like a welcomed stranger for what must’ve been hours, and yet, I enjoyed it. The feel of a faint breeze caressing my skin, the popping and sizzling from the burning wood, and the silence, was a pleasing respite. Even my mind was silent, and I almost broke down and cried again at the relief of it. There were no racing thoughts, no anxiety over ‘what ifs’ and it had finally become so calm and clear. I feel as if the combined weight of the last half of my life had somehow been lifted and tossed into the dying coals of the fire. None of it mattered anymore. For the first time in months, I smiled from happiness so genuine, I was near giddy. So long had I been living with so much dragging me down that I hadn’t noticed the toll it had taken.

Riley stood up, smiling down at me with her hand still holding mine.

“Come on, it’s late. Why don’t we head inside, and you can get some rest.”

I nod, smiling in return as I let her lead me to my room. She gives me another hug, squeezing the remnants of a shattered, broken body back into place. The smile never leaves my lips as we both crawl into bed, her arms wrapping around me and holding me close. I bury my face against her chest, and breathe in deep as her hands gently rub my back. Her chin rests on the top of my head as she whispers soothingly to me, coaxing my eyes to close with the promise of a much deserved.

My dreams, however, are less than kind. They are a dark and turbulent nightmare.

I am standing in a darkened room, staring at myself. Not merely a reflection, but a flesh and blood copy. She stands there with a smirk on her face, flocked by a dozen different lovers both past and present. They surrounded her, a surging mass of human bodies, and she relishes in it. She drinks in their attention, finds rapture in their touch. She was pure sex in human form and she’s loving every second.

From the darkness beyond the scene, walks a tall man, well over 6 feet with tanned skin, dark hair, and a familiar boyish face. He parts the crowd and she cowers from him, growing younger before my eyes. He moves toward her, wrapping his arm possessively around her, and she averts her eyes, her body shifting uncomfortably as he trails a finger over her collar bone. I wanted to scream, to beg, to somehow convince myself to wake up, but I was forced to watch, my body frozen as I stared helplessly. His finger moves from her collar bone to the center of her chest as he presses his lips close to her ear.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you, baby.”

Shimmering tears fall from her eyes and pool on the floor beneath her, slowly filling the room until it’s a swirling, salty maelstrom. I can’t move; I can’t keep myself from drowning. And through the water, I hear her distorted sobs, carried on the turbulent waves.