Текст книги "Raw"

Автор книги: Belle Aurora

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

A stupid one.

I can’t leave him. I won’t leave him.

He needs me.

You need him.

He needs me more. And I’ll be there for him.

Nodding at my internal pep talk, I make my way out of the bathroom to find Twitch back behind his desk, typing away as if nothing happened. I open my mouth to speak, when he utters, “Like I said, I’m busy. Next time, make an appointment.”

I stand there in complete silence. My heart cracks.

Was I just dismissed?

The more I stand there, the more my anger builds. Just when I tell myself to turn, leave, and never come back, I shriek unexpectedly, “God, you are such a fuck up!”

“God, you are such a fuck up!”

My head snaps up, brows knitting. She pauses, panting, then, “And I hate myself for loving you.”

What did she just say?

Her lips quiver and she chokes out, “Because I can’t give up on you.”

A single tear trails down her cheek.

Hold up. Back up. What did she just say?

Lexi loves me? Since when?

Standing slowly, I make my way over to her, searching her tearful face. When we’re almost toe-to-toe, I lift my hand to brush her cheek. But she flinches.

And it guts me.

His hand comes up to cup my cheek.

“Don’t, babe. Don’t look at me like that. Not gonna hurt you. Not like that.”

I don’t know why, but somehow, I already know this.

He adds on a whisper, “I’d kill anyone who tried.”

Immediately, I respond with, “I know.”

What I don’t add is, ‘And it scares the shit out of me.’

Twitch’s eyes peer down into mine; knowing what’s coming, I tilt my face up as he lowers his to mine and takes my lips in a demanding kiss.

And that kiss conveys so much more than words ever could.

I hate myself for loving this man.

Kissing Lexi with everything I have, I can almost feel her love flowing through me.

I feel drunk. Love drunk.

Placing my forehead on hers, I whisper, “You gotta promise to never leave me. I-I…you just gotta.”

Her response is, “You have to promise to try to love me back. What you’re doing to me…that’s not how you treat a person you love, Twitch.”

I’ve loved you since you were six.

Kissing her once more, I tell her without hesitation, “If you promise to never leave me, I will love you. And be good to you. I’ll treat you like a queen.”

My queen.

I heard somewhere that a king only bows down to his queen.

And I’m bowing down to Lexi.

My chest aches. I don’t know if I like this love thing.

She whispers the magic words, “I promise I won’t leave you.”

And just like that…

…Lexi became mine.

Sitting at my desk, back at work, I chew on the end of my pen and recall the rest of our conversation today. I should be working, but my mind is trained on one thing. Twitch. Our talk was short, but it felt like so much was put out there in such few words.

He kissed me again and again, then asked, “You’re mine? Just mine?”

And the way he asked, with such insecurity in his voice, was as if he didn’t know the answer to his questions. And it calmed me to know he was as uncertain about this as I was. His questions lacked his usual confidence and sounded almost juvenile. I told him honestly, “If you let me in and you promise to try, for me, then yes. I’m yours.”

Pulling back and looking down at me, his eyes crinkled in the corners. “So we’re doing this? You’re my girlfriend?”

Blushing, I dipped my chin, “I-I guess so. That’s usually how these things go. I know you don’t love me…”

He cut in with, “I will love you.”

“…yet, but it doesn’t matter to me. I’m willing to make this work if you think you can let me in enough to understand you. That’s all I need, Twitch. Help me understand you.” I whispered by the shell of his ear, “Just let me in.”

Wrapping his arms around me, he held me tightly, buried his face into my neck, and mumbled, “I’ll try, baby. I’ll try.”

And I believed him.

How this all happened so quickly, I really have no idea.

One second I came to offer Twitch help – help he desperately needs – and the next, I’m losing my anal V-card. Then I’m yelling, and finally, I’m Twitch’s girlfriend.

Chuckling humorlessly, I shake my head at myself.

This could be the biggest mistake of my life.

Or it could be the most perfect prize. One you’ve earned.

There’s something about Twitch.

He’s just…raw.

Everything about him is raw. And gritty. And unbound.

He’s a raging fire. And I’m a fragile moth fluttering into the flame. Sooner or later, I’m going to get burned. I know this.

Will I even survive the heat?

How can I trust this man after everything we’ve been through in such a short time?

Without skipping a beat, my mind provides the answer.

Easy.

Spending the afternoon revisiting my decision to be involved with a man like Twitch made my mind turn to mush.

I have an ethical responsibility within my sector to help all that need it. I know Twitch needs help, even if he doesn’t believe that. It’s no real secret that man has anger issues that borderline violent. I wonder what I’m getting myself into. He has secrets. Secrets that run deep.

Thinking of the things that could have possibly happened to him makes my heart squeeze.

People don’t turn into the kind of person Twitch is for no reason at all.

Something terrible has happened for him to be this way. And I’ll be there, waiting patiently for when he finally wants to reveal those reasons. Something tells me that by giving him the promise he all but begged for, to not leave him, his trust in me has risen to a new level.

Twitch asked me to meet him at my place when I was done with work. He said he was taking the afternoon off and we’re going to be staying at his house tonight.

Everything inside of me told me not to go. To not be at his beck and call. That I needed to be independent.

But all I could think about was how much lost time we had to make up for.

Truthfully, learning about Twitch is more important to me than anything.

And tonight is going to be the night.

I text him back, telling him that I would meet him and that he’d better be ready to talk.

And talk is what we did.

I found him in my room when I got home, and at seeing my selection of underwear, he curled his lip in disgust. “Seriously, babe?”

“What?” I asked.

He took a pair of my pink cotton panties and stretched them between his fingers. Making a slingshot with them, he flung them across my room, then stalked over to the bed.

Sitting, his eyes took in my body as if he were undressing me with his eyes. And it made me a little uncomfortable. I’m not used to being scrutinised so close up.

He pulled me towards him so I stood between his legs. His hands travelled up my sides, then over my breasts and back down. He muttered vacantly, “This body.”

Snapping out of his daze, he offered, “A body like this is a gift. So it needs to be gift-wrapped. I like my gifts to be wrapped in sexy.” Trailing a fingertip from my belly button down to the top of my mound, he muttered, “I like my women in silk and lace, frills and bows. I don’t do pretty, but I like women who do pretty.”

Looking up at me, he stated, “You do pretty, you won’t get rid of me.”

For Twitch, that was kind of sweet. And very macho. And seriously sexist.

The feminist in me booed and hissed, while the horny teenager in me slumped against a wall and sighed dreamily.

Not wanting him to know that, I teased, “You’re my stalker. I couldn’t get rid of you if I tried.”

His lips twitched. “I like Lexi. She’s funny. Not a huge fan of Alexa, though. She kinda sucks.”

I was confused. “But I’m Alexa. And Lexi. We’re the same person.”

He grinned hugely, “No. You’re not. Just like I’m Twitch sometimes, but I’m also…” My eyes widened.

Please tell me. Open up to me. Please.

His smile faltered only a second before he said, “C’mon. Let’s go home.”

Home.

With Twitch.

That felt so right that my mind wasn’t able to form words. Mouth parted, I simply nodded, and off we went.

Home.

Spending the afternoon with Lexi was crazy.

It was crazy because I don’t remember a time in my life when I laughed so much or smiled so hard. The woman is a serious clown. She’s adorably goofy. And I love that.

I never thought it could be this way with the two of us.

She says she loves me. And when she said it in anger, I knew it was true. I can’t tell her how I feel about her yet. I need her to know me – all of me – before I can tell her that. I have my reasons.

We spent the day outdoors. She dressed herself in the bright yellow sundress I bought her, after an argument which lasted almost an hour about me buying her things. She lectured me about people starving around the world, and about kids living on the streets. She only gave up her argument when I blurted, “I know, Lex. I was a street kid. So I get it.” Her face turned soft and her argument died. I added, “Just wanted to do something nice for my girl, okay?”

Standing by her dresser, she answered quietly, “Okay, honey.”

Like I said, I always win.

I showed her some of my favorite places in the city, including a small Italian café where we had something light for dinner. She said smiling, “You like Italian food, huh?”

Leaning back in my chair, I told her, “I think it’s got something to do with my heritage. I love Italian food. It’s my favorite.”

She smiled harder. I’m sure it had something to do with the fact that I was slowly giving her information about myself. “Okay, then. I’ll remember that,” she uttered.

Hand-in-hand, we walked all over, mostly in silence, but every now and then explaining to the other what places we liked and why.

I found out that Lexi loves Mexican food. The spicier the better. She also told me that she made a mean cocoa, as long as I didn’t mind a lot of booze in it. She mentioned her brother, which held my attention. She said he was a great brother and was extremely protective. When I asked where he was, she pulled her emotions back inside of her and told me blankly that she hadn’t spoken to him in a while, but the last time she checked, he was back in the US.

It made my chest ache for her.

The funny thing was that even though I knew everything she was telling me, it sounded like brand new information coming from her mouth. Like the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about her friends, Nikki and Dave.

Nikki and Lexi were roommates in University. Dave happened to attend the same University and worked at the campus coffee shop. Dave being gay was hassled on a daily basis, and one day spilled coffee on a male customer. Not thinking, Dave grabbed a handful of napkins, and apologizing, started to wipe the coffee off the customer. That was when the customer called Dave a faggot, knocked him to the ground, and started laying into him. Lexi and Nikki watched in horror for all of ten seconds before they took their book bags to the man and managed to knock him out cold. Smiling, she explained, “We were arrested, but the charges were dropped. Dave came to visit us the next day in our dorm, and started the conversation with ‘well, aren’t you all just a bunch of crazy bitches!’” She laughed openly, “And we’ve been friends ever since, even though Nikki and Dave have this stupid rivalry going on.”

I was about to ask her about her family when she blurted out, “So, Happy, huh? He’s like, gay or bi-sexual or something?”

That threw me off. “What?” I was confused.

She just played with my fingers, and I asked through narrowed eyes, “What do you know, Angel?”

“Just that he’s enjoying the company of Dave. And Nikki. So I just assumed he was gay, but he’d definitely be bi then, wouldn’t he?”

I told her pointedly, “He’s not anything. He’s just Happy.” She looked at me like I was crazy when I reminded her gently but firmly, “You know how I feel about labels. Happy likes what he likes. He doesn’t need a label.”

Her brows rose in thought. She nodded once. “Okies.”

“Okies?”

“You know? It’s like okay, but cuter.”

Staring into her laughing eyes, I muttered, “Okies?”

She burst into laughter, and I watched the way her face bunched in delight; her full lips framed her straight, white teeth, and it was then that I knew I was a goner.

Which brings us to now, chilling in my bed, watching TV with my girl.

“Why are you like this?” Lexi asks softly, as she reaches for my hand in the subtly-lit room. She entwines our fingers and whispers, “Something bad happened to you.”

No shit, Sherlock.

A minute passes and we remain silent, but her thumb strokes mine so gently that the urge to talk overcomes me. “Had a shitty childhood. That shitty childhood turned into a shitty adolescence. I met someone when I was just a kid who made me believe it might get better. In my head, I told myself that I had to make the most of what I had to make things better, so I did what I could. I ran away from said shitty childhood and lived on the streets for a few years. Things got better in some ways. But other things just got worse. Ended up in bad places, doing bad things to make a buck to live. Eventually bad – in my mind – became good.” A look of confusion crosses her face. I try to explain, “What I mean is that those bad things, I didn’t see as bad anymore. It was just my life. So I guess you could say I’m desensitized to a lot of bullshit. Most shit that would shock and disgust a normal person doesn’t shock me at all. And bad doesn’t seem so bad anymore. In my mind, most bad things are good.”

Turning, I take in Lexi’s semi-lit silhouette, which watches me with wide eyes, clearly in shock over me revealing so much of myself. I’m shocked too. The only two people who really know about me – I mean really know about me – are Happy and Julius. Happy, Julius, and I all met in bad places. We get each other.

Turning the tables on her, I ask, “What made you who you are?”

Lexi shrugs. “A whole bunch of things. I don’t know really.”

I tut, “Bullshit. I asked you a question, girl. I expect an answer.”

She lies on her side, resting her chin on her upturned hand. “Okay, smartass. Well, I guess it started at home with me too. Things weren’t good. Mom was working all the time. Dad was a mean old bastard. Mom would work most nights because it was better money, and the dropkick I called Dad would spend most of that money on weed and booze, drowning out the mess that was his life. Me and my brother looked after each other as much as we could. But I couldn’t protect him the way he protected me. I was small and fragile. Whenever Dad got mad, my brother would shove me in my room and lock the door from the outside. They’d tussle, but nothing too bad. Eventually, my brother turned to drugs because Dad was…”

Her eyes lose focus, and something churns in my gut. An unfamiliar feeling.

Protectiveness. I feel protective of Lexi.

I don’t know what to do with that.

Shaking her head, her eyes meet mine and she forces a smile. “Everyone’s got a story. It could’ve been worse though. My neighbors growing up, they…” Her brow furrows. “They weren’t nice people. I was just a baby, maybe five or six, and I would hear them every night. Yelling and hurtin’ on their son.” She whispers, “He was just a boy. And I would sit in my room and…and just cry. Cry with him.”

Her voice sounds pained, and my heart races.

She adds quietly, “I met him once. I saw him limping into my backyard. He was hurt. And when he fell, even though I was just a kid, I couldn’t imagine leaving him there, all alone and scared.” She whispers again, “He was just a boy. A little boy. And he was hurt bad.”

Pulling her hand to bring her closer to me, I wrap an arm around her waist and she buries her face into my neck. I need to know. “What happened with the little boy?”

She inhales deeply and replies on an exhale, “He tried to fight me.” And I smile at her temple. She must feel it because she laughs softly. “Yeah. He was a tough one. Not wanting help from anyone, especially me. Very wary and suspicious.” Then she says something that makes my chest ache. “He was a little like you, Twitch.”

Snuggling into me, she speaks into the side of my neck. “He didn’t want to tell me his name. But I got it out of him. He told me I’d forget once he was gone and I promised I wouldn’t. I remember trying so hard to make sure I didn’t forget it.” She smiles at my throat. “I even carved his name into the huge oak back home when I was ten.” She chuckles, “It’s like I wanted to prove to him that I kept my word.” Silence, then, “It didn’t matter, though. The day after I met him, there were ambulances and police cars all over his house. I hid in my room, covering my ears ‘til they left. And I knew…I just knew he was gone.”

My aching chest is soothed when a feeling of warmth settles over me.

Lexi yawns. “I guess that’s why I do what I do. You know? Help the kids I help. It’s sorta because of him. I’ll never forget him. He was a fighter. I always thought of him as a survivor.”

I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to ask. Don’t ask. “Do you remember his name, baby?”

Half asleep, she whispers, “Antonio Falco.”

My body tenses, solid as a rock. I listen closely as her breathing deepens then evens out, and her body softens as she falls into a deep sleep.

Fuck me. Fucking hell. I don’t believe this shit.

Breathing heavily, my jaw tightens and I pull Lexi deeper into me, savouring her warmth and sweetness. Everything I’m too stubborn to let go of.

Goddamn it! This wasn’t meant to happen. This… Fuck me… This changes everything.

Lexi remembers me.

A piercing shriek in my ear makes my entire body jolt.

The shriek sounds again. Then again.

My bedroom door bursts open, and Happy stands there in his boxers, as well as Ling in a skimpy nightie, both looking just woken. When Ling spots Lexi at my side, she scowls. Lexi lifts her head and mumbles, “What’s going on? What’s that freaking noise?” Blinking, she looks to the door and yells, “What is she doing here?”

One question at a time, young grasshopper.

Answering all her questions out of order, I say, “That’s the alarm; someone’s breaking in.” I look to Happy, who nods in confirmation. “And Ling lives here, Lex.”

Ling smirks.

Lexi’s brow furrows. “Why?”

Not wanting to embarrass Ling, I pretend to kiss Lexi’s temple and whisper, “Got nowhere else to go.”

Lexi pushes her temple into my touch before pulling back wide-eyed and screeching, “Someone’s breaking in?”

Happy chuckles and Ling mutters, “Rookie.”

I grin. “Don’t sweat it. Happens all the time.”

Her eyes drift down to my chest as she stutters, “Ha-ha-happens all the time?”

Slipping out of bed, I pull on a pair of boxers and order, “Stay up here. Whatever you hear, do not come down. You hear me?”

She pulls the covers up to her neck and whispers, “I can’t promise that, but I’ll stay up here ‘til I can stay up here no longer pondering your imminent death.”

Stopping in my tracks at her overly dramatic explanation, I ask, “How long you think that’ll be?”

Looking up in thought, she mutters, “About five minutes.”

“Deal.” Pointing at her, I order, “Do not come down. For five minutes.”

As I walk out into the hall, Ling walks back to her room, closing the door behind her, while Happy follows behind me.

I ask him, “What do we have today?”

Happy snickers, “One guy. Looks drug-fucked. In the dining area, searching like a mad man.”

Sighing, I mutter, “They never learn.”

When we reach the staircase’s half-way point, we come face-to-face with a man, I’d say in his thirties, with blonde shaggy dreadlocks and bloodshot eyes, dressed in grey Bermuda shorts and a dirty white tee. I can’t figure out who sent him, if anyone sent him. From the looks of him, he could just be a junkie on a binge, desperately looking for something to hock for another fix.

He stands there a moment in shock before taking off like a rocket up the hall.

Oh, dear. Looks like he chose a dead end. What a shame.

Walking calmly down the hall to the formal dining room, I make my way into the room to spot the man trying in vain to pull himself out of the high set windows. With a shake of the head, I reach for his ankle and pull. Hard. He collapses at my feet in a shaking, sweating mess ,and I ask, “Who sent you?”

Shaking his head, he utters, “No one, man. No one.”

Placing my hand on his head, he whimpers as I pat him like a dog. “Here I am, enjoying a night in with one of my girls, and I have to deal with this shit. I’d really like to know who sent you.”

Shaking his head once more, my anger builds. I tangle my fingers tightly into his hair and lift him by his dreads. He cries out, and from the way his voice gurgles and chokes, I’m worried he’s going to be sick. Pulling him over to the exquisite antique dining table, I kick a heavy chair out of the way before throwing his torso onto the surface of the unblemished mahogany.

Gripping his hair tight, I ask, “You wanna know why I keep my door locked at night?”

Breathing heavily, he nods his head.

Leaning closer to his ear, I tell him on a whisper, “To protect the people outside of it from me.”

Pulling his head up by his hair, I grit my teeth and slam his head down on the dining table. Repeatedly.

The sound of his nose snapping makes me shudder. I get too much pleasure from this shit. It’s almost alarming.

Almost.

Throwing him to the ground in an unconscious heap, my eyes catch something moving towards me. Lexi looks far away. She whispers distantly, “You said one of your girls.”

“What?”

Avoiding my eyes, she utters more firmly, “You said you were enjoying a night in with one of your girls. Not your girl.”

My brow furrows. Did I say that?

Reaching for her, she pulls back and sniffs, “I gotta go. It’s late.”

Fuck me. She’s pissed.

Before I can call out to her, she’s gone. Happy leans against the door, and I shrug at him in question. He nods, confirming I did say what cut Lexi deep.

Annoyance and frustration well up inside of me.

Looking down at the heap that is the intruder, I pull my leg back and kick him in the side. Once, twice, three times, then finally a fourth. He groans weakly, red-stained drool slides out of his mouth onto the floor. Pointing towards the door, I glower down at his face and say, “Now look at what you did!”

Happy chuckles and I throw him a glare, warning him not to fuck with me.

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair.

Damage control at one AM.

This should be fun.