Roar (8 page)

I’m sweating and panting like crazy against the painful pressure in my chest and ribs. My mouth is dirt-dry, and it’s not the first time I wished I had packed my drink bottle.
Another idiot move
. I’m swinging my body to the left as I take the corner to my childhood street, and my legs lag until I am brought to a slow walk. I see it. I see my past in the form of timber walls with peeling white paint. I see my nightmares in the boarded-up windows and overgrown garden. I don’t know why, but my legs take me to the path that’s riddled with cracks and weeds that peek through the concrete. It leads me to a place I never wanted to see again; to my front door. No! It’s not
my
front door anymore. I escaped this hell long ago; it hasn’t been my anything since the state ripped me from its shadows and from those I love.

“Charlie.”

I sob and shake as I hear my daddy calling me. Why is he calling me Charlie? I don’t want to go.

“Babe?”

I yelp as a hand touches my shoulder, and I spin around to find Nate. His eyes are drawn, and he’s biting his lip. I burst into tears and into his arms where he always protects me. I vaguely hear a grunt in between my sobs, and remember his injured shoulder before pulling away. But he doesn’t allow it, instead squeezing me tighter. This time I feel the pain in our embrace against my tender ribs. Yet that pain is nothing to the sound that he too is crying for what we have lost behind the nightmare of our past. He lost so much more than I, and I will never forgive myself for that, either.

My building blocks of life are built upon guilt so thick, it’s cold in here. My soul, my heart, my body, and love, are all so cold. I have nothing warm and good to give anyone, and that’s why I ended up with a man like Paul instead of a man like Nate. That’s why I’m happy to stay there, where the safety lies in knowing the rules.

Paul is my reminder; although a good man to the world, he is a monster, and monsters attract monsters alike. Nate, on the other hand, was pulled into the dark, made to do dark things until he was broken, lost, and taken away to rebuild.

“It’s okay. Everything will be okay,” he whispers in my ear, but they are lies. Nothing will ever be okay. I want so much that it will all be okay, that everything turned out differently, but it didn’t.

“Nate,” I sniff, trying to pull myself together for him and myself.

“Let’s go.”

I nod as he kisses my temple through my cap, where my cut hides. He ushers me off the path to the grass, and I wonder if it’s him who mows the lawn. Does he mow it every time he mows Nona’s? Does it pain him to be near the house and remnants of the garage and our past?

It’s not until I swipe at my eyes again, swiping the pain that drips via salty tears, that I notice we aren’t going to the house, but to our spot. Down by the back boundary, leading to the old Lester farm, is our tree; it’s our safe place, the one place Daddy never invaded. It was our safe place where I would wait, hope, and dream that this time, he wouldn’t call for me.

That never happened.

Nate takes his arm from around my shoulder, slides his fingers down my arm, and threads his fingers with mine like he used to. I look at our hands, his still so much darker than mine and now so much stronger looking. I study the art up his arm of intricate patterns and know in my gut there’s meaning to them. I want to ask, but I won’t. Instead, I silently relish in his small touch and let him lead me to the shade of our maple tree. He pulls me to the ground beside him. I almost sit on his lap before I shake myself conscious to things that are different now.

He gets settled; the pain of his shoulder still evident as he settles against the tree. We sit silently and close for so long, both just eying his thumb tracing my hand.

“I miss you,” he says softly. I feel his stare on my face now. I’m scared to look into his beautiful hazel eyes for he will see the darkness in mine. I’m not the same girl he used to talk so sweetly to under this tree.

“I miss you, too,” I say, closing my eyes and leaning on his good shoulder.

“Look at me, Charlie.”

I don’t want to; no, that’s a fat lie. I want to, I just can’t. I shake my head and bury deeper into him, glad to have his good shoulder.

“I need you to look at me.” He takes my chin in his thumb and finger, and gently tilts my head up. I have to look past the brim of my cap to see him, when he takes it from my head. I have to drop my gaze again and turn away before he gets a chance to see it. It all happens so quickly, my heart races a beat into my throat.

“What the fuck happened?” Nate has my face in his hands, tilting my head so he can see the small cut better. I pull at his wrists, but he doesn’t relent. “How did this happen?” he rushes again. If I don’t take control of this situation, it’s going to escalate really quickly.

“I slipped in the shower.” I find it’s easier to stay with half-truths.

He stills, and for a moment I think he buys it; most do. Then he turns my head again, so I have no choice but to look into his eyes which call to me.

“Say it again,” he says, daring me to lie again.

“I slipped―” I’m thrust to the dry, grassy ground with Nate’s fierce and hurt eyes boring into me. My heart is out of control, and so is his; I can feel it against my chest. His hands are planted on each side of my head; I can only imagine how much pain it’s causing his shoulder. “Please, your wound will rip open.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that. Tell me again,” he growls, and I shudder. I don’t shudder from fear like when Paul growls. It’s something more primal than that. I want Nate to lose it with me. I want his touch. I want him to… leave his own mark on me.

“I… was stupid. I paid the price.”

Nate’s face crumbles with agony, and I feel my tears fall back into my hair. I hurt him
again.

“Mother
fucker
,” he breathes.

I shake my head; he needs to know it’s not like he thinks. I deserve to be punished.

“
Motherfucker!
” he yells this time. I grab for his face, but it slips from my fingers as he pushes from me and paces the ground, growling and cussing. He slams his fist into the trunk of our tree, just below our carved names. I scream and scramble to my feet. I bear hug him with all my love and strength. He pushes against me, but I fight with everything I have in me. I hold on tight as he growls louder until his body shudders in my arms. He grabs me in his and squeezes to the point it hurts so much my breath is gone. But it’s a welcoming pain; I want it as he breaks down in my arms and into my neck. I feel his tears on my neck and this time I tell him what he needs to hear.

“Shh, it will be okay. It’s all going to be okay. I promise,” I soothe and lie.

One of his hands runs up my back and around my nape. The pressure behind his grasp is desperate, and I want to take his pain away. I do it the only way I know how to.

I kiss his neck so softly, the tiny prickles of his stubble tickle against my lips. I taste the salt of his skin on my lips and something in me stirs; something long ago forgotten. I want more; I want to remember; I want to feel.

Nate stills in my arms, before slowly his breathing begins to change, and I feel his stubbly cheek graze mine on its path to my own neck. His breath is steamy, bringing goose-pimples to my flesh in anticipation of his lips. Oh, God. I want his lips on me just one more time.

I’m panting, and so is he, our chests heaving out of tune until his lips meet my hot flesh. Nate groans, and I gasp, tilting my head further so he has better access. His tongue grazes across the pulse of my neck, up to my ear, where the sound of his breathing is like a storm to all my senses. I claw at his gray tee as he takes to my jaw and his fingers thread up into my hair. Before I can take another breath, he directs my mouth to clash with his, and I’m gone. I’m lost and gone in the existence of Nate and his mouth as his tongue takes to making love to mine, caressing and taking. Oh, God I miss his kisses. I lose the world as he takes me with his mouth. I feel the tree trunk against my back and its bark bite into my flesh, and yet I don’t care. All I care about is the give and take of his mouth against mine. I care about his hands on my neck, in my hair, pulling, grabbing and pushing us both to limits we care less about.

My hands find his skin at the band of his black jeans and his skin, and I rush my hands up the back of his ribs, feeling the ripple of his muscle against my palms. My chest is actually hurting, and I don’t care. I could drop dead right now, and all I would care about is the fact that it would damage his soul.

Nate finds my breasts and squeezes, making me moan and search for his mouth again. I’m aching, aching all over. But most importantly, for the first time since our last, I’m aching in between my legs. I’m wet and need him to take it away with the hard length of him that is pushing against my stomach from behind his clothes.

“Fuck,” he grunts as I take him in my hands and squeeze. I feel him pulse in my hand and love the power, and the desperation he has for me. We haven’t changed where it counts; we
need
one another past the point of sense and acceptance. I fumble with the button to his jeans until I have it open, the sound of his zip sweeps across the sound of the stirring leaves above. I don’t hold back; I slide my hand into his pants, past the elastic of his trunks, and take him in my hand. He gasps and slams me harder against the tree with his mouth against mine. He then lowers himself out of my reach, kissing my neck and then one of my breasts. He holds it firmly as he sucks through the material to my nipple which stings at his attention. My fingers are in his hair, tugging and raking, wanting more as he lowers to his knees and lifts my shirt.

Something in me knows he can’t take my shirt off, or this dream bubble will be popped. I push against his hands, which take the waistband of my running shorts, and in one move he has them at my ankles. He leans back, and I panic a little before I see the hunger in his eyes as he looks at my exposed sex in front of him. I know what he wants to do, and he’s waiting for my approval. I lick my lips and urge his head to me with my hands gripping his dark hair. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

He bites his lips like he’s hungry. His hands are biting into the flesh of my thighs, and his hot mouth assaults my wet pussy. Fucking Jesus, his tongue slides into my lips and flicks my clitoris. I buckle in one flick. I can feel his smile against me as he holds me against the tree, and I try to put my weight on his good shoulder. Again he flicks and slides his wet tongue all the way to my dripping opening that’s gripping onto nothing, but needing more. He laps me, kisses me, pushing my thighs open more so he can fuck me with his tongue until I can no longer hold myself back, and I come. I come, and I shake like never before.

“
Nate―”

Before I know which way is up, I’m in the air, my legs wrapped around Nate’s waist. He turns, sliding his back down the tree as I’m straddling him. I grasp for his length; I need him inside me, filling me. His lips are all over my face, my neck. He lifts me, and I guide him to the brink of my sex, wanting him desperately as I let his length slide between my lips, his head teasing my swollen clitoris. His hands rake out the tie in my hair and let it loose and cascades around my face before he stares into my eyes. I don’t want to look there; I don’t want him to see the horrid truth of the demons I carry with me. I don’t want him to see that he’s the only man I have ever done this with. I’m not talking sex. Paul fucks me when he needs to; I’m talking making me lose myself, making me drip with carnal need, making my heart, soul, and mind soar with love. I can’t give him hope that this will happen again, because that’s not my life… and it shouldn’t be his.

And just like that, my bubble popped.

“What?” he asks in a panic as I sigh and push from his lap. I’m wet, dirty, sweaty, and yet so damn cold despite the summer heat and the passionate kisses we just shared. I’m cold because that’s the truth of my future―cold and without passion and love. I don’t deserve such beauty.

“I have to get back. I have to… go.” I slip into my panties and shorts, not caring about the dry leaves and dirt attached.

“
What?
!” He grabs me as I’m pulling my underwear and shorts up, while his have dropped to his ankles. “Go back where? To him?
To him?!
” He shakes me, and I turn and run before he can form a grip. I’m a fucking coward, but I can’t explain it to him. He sees me as someone beautiful and loving, but it’s a lie.

He goes to grab me, but stumbles on his pants. “Fu–ck!”

I have a few seconds head start before he has them up and is on my heel. Any running is going to cause his shoulder some excruciating pain, and that will slow him down, too. Little do I know … I have less. I don’t even make it twenty feet before he has me around the waist and holstered, screaming. I kick and scream into the air until I run out of steam; all that’s left are my tears, against his panting and grunts on the back of my neck as he crushes me to him.

“I’m going to let you go; don’t run.” He waits for me to agree, which I nod. He then loosens his vice and turns me around to face him. He wipes my cheeks and the hair from my face gently. “You can’t go back to him, Charlie.” He lightly traces my cut and his jaw bunches. “He will never touch or hurt you again, I promise.” Nate swipes my lips with his thumb. I want to kiss it, but I won’t.

“Don’t say those things.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s impossible now.”

He sighs and bumps his forehead to mine. “Nothing is impossible when we are together. We fought the impossible, and we won.”

I shake my head because he’s wrong. We didn’t win. No one won.

“Don’t deny it. Don’t deny what is meant to be. We deserve to be together after everything. I couldn’t save you from all the pain back when we were kids, but I’m not a kid anymore, I can protect you.”

I swoop in and kiss his beautiful lips that promise such fairy-tale futures for us. I taste myself on him and cuss the pull deep in my belly for him. I pull away and look into those eyes I fell in love with over and over again as a child, before I knew what love was.