Hurt Like HELL (new adult contemporary romance) (23 page)

Shit.

Things were going to get hot again.

When Jack stopped the kiss, he stared at me, taking the deepest breaths I’d yet to see him take.  The more he resisted, the more he wanted me.  The more he wanted me, the more I needed him.  We had become a vicious cycle, but it was just oh-so good. 

Too good to stop.

Too good to care.

As we remained in silence, I wiggled my hands away from Jack’s.  I wasn’t going to listen to anything else, not until I had what I wanted.  I needed protection and my body needed Jack.

I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and I lifted it.  Jack didn’t try to stop me, and if he did, I would have resisted. 

I threw my shirt across the living room and leaned back on the couch.  My body was cold; my breasts made that well known.  My white laced bra didn’t do much in terms of covering anything up.

Which was good.

Our eyes were locked and remained that way, even as I reached down to his pants.  Jack’s body reacted as I expected it to and he moved from the floor to the couch. 

I welcomed him to me, feeling his much needed relief of aggression flow through his hands and mouth.  He kissed down my body and I watched every second of it.  We were in the living room, the daylight pouring in from the outside.  I felt open, exposed, and found.

But I had Jack.

Jack took my pants and panties off, then stopped at my core, leaving himself to a finish that forced me to put a hand over my mouth.  The last thing I needed was to scream out loud and have the sound reverberate into the hall with three other front doors to other apartments.

My neighbors would probably end up calling the police if they heard the sounds I wanted to make.

I lost myself for a few seconds in a burning climax, but when I came back to reality, I looked down at Jack, amazed to see him reversing his track... kissing back up my body.  I swear he tasted every possible inch of my body before pausing with his lips an inch from mine.

“I’ll protect you,” he said.  “Always.”

“I know.”

He opened his mouth and for all the moments I wanted him to speak, to share more of his story, more of our story, I didn’t care about it.  I cared about our bodies being together once again.  My hand slid around his neck and up into his messy, sexy hair.  I pulled at him, tasting his mouth.  There was another taste that made my body pulse for Jack. 

He offered himself to me and I took it. 

On the couch in my living room.

He wasn’t as gentle as the night before, and that was fine.  We were both hurt, angry, and confused.  We didn’t need to speak about it, we didn’t need to confess anything in that moment.

As Jack pressed his chest against mine, I realized two things.

First, he was warm again.

Second, he had heartbeat.

The sudden feeling of it shocked me. 

I couldn’t be sure how real Jack was, but my gosh, everything about him felt real.

Everything.

After we finished, I felt paralyzed.  My body fought within itself, to just focus on the pleasure and the connection between me and Jack.  But something lingered.  Jack’s words rang in my mind about my father.  Jack had no reason to lie to me but something wanted me to believe it wasn’t true.

Jack sensed my discomfort and lifted me from the couch into his strong arms.  As he carried me to my bedroom.  I closed my eyes and allowed my sense of smell to take over, inhaling Jack.  I could smell his desire, his fear, and his undying need to protect me.  To kill for me if he needed to. 

But he couldn’t kill my father, he said so himself.

In my bedroom, he gently placed me on the bed and then sat on the edge of it.  We were silent for a few minutes.  I just watched Jack.  Watched his beautiful face and try to figure out what his brain was doing.

“He can’t see me,” Jack said. 

“Who can’t?”

“Him.  He can’t.”

“Why can everyone else then?”

“I don’t know how it works,” Jack said.  “He’s my killer.  There’s a connection between he and I, one that holds if I continue to stay.”

“Then go!” I cried out.

He turned his head to me, looking hurt.  “Is that what you want?”

“Of course it’s not what I want,” I said.  “I want you.  Forever.  But not if you’re going to live this life.  He can kill me, I’ll let him.  Then he’ll go to prison for the rest of his life.  And we can be together.”

“No,” Jack said.  “Life is worth living, no matter what you believe right now.  Death comes better with a fulfilled life.  Walking through the darkness, experiencing an emptiness that produces sorrow, you need memories of life to make it.”

“And you’d know?  You were fifteen when you... you...”

Jack nodded.  “I’d know.”

“How?”

“I had the memories of you, and us.”

We paused again and the room was tense.  Very tense.

“We were young.”

“And I loved you then,” Jack said.  “Just as I do now.  The memories of our time in your basement, sharing stories, pain, broken hearts... that’s what kept me going through death.”

“I have memories too,” I said.  “Of us.  I gave you my body, Jack.  That alone...”

“Stop it.  You aren’t going to die.”

I started to cry, losing to my emotions.  Jack stood from the bed, his hands in white knuckled fists.  His head moved back and forth, looking all around my room.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m going to try.”

“Try what?”

“I’m going to stop him,” Jack said.

“You said you can’t.”

“I’m not supposed to be able to, but maybe I can control things around him.”

“You’ll get punished.”

“I’ll never come back,” Jack said so quick and easy.

I gasped and tried to catch my breath, losing everything with each second that passed.

“Never come back?”

“I’ll kill him, then be gone.  I’ll move on.”

“And I’ll be here, alone?”

“You’ll never be alone,” Jack said.  “But you won’t have to live a life in fear.  Or worry.  Or be with me.  The ghost of a boy you knew.”

“You’re a man, Jack,” I said.  “And you’re mine.”

“I’m sorry, Tessa.  I created this, I have to fix it.  If not, it’ll keep happening.  I’ve shown myself to you.  I’ve touched you.  It’s too real for reality.”

“It can never be too real,” I whispered.

The tears flooded down my cheeks.  I’d have no say.  The decision had been made. 

Jack rushed to the side of my bed and touched my face.  His thumb wiped the tears from my eyes, one at a time.  I looked up at him, refusing to believe it would be our last minute together.  Until death brought us back together. 

If death brought us back together.

 “What happens when I die?” I asked.

“By then, it won’t matter,” Jack said.  “You’ll live happy.  You’ll live the way you deserve to live.  A life of happiness.”

“I’m happy right now,” I said.

He ignored my words.

“I’ll fix all I’ve done wrong,” Jack said.  “My final gift to you, Tessa.  The woman who first stole my heart.  The woman who first taught me love.  The woman who dying for and protecting was worth any amount of pain and suffering.  Knowing you’re alive gives me peace.”  His lips trembled.  “I... I love you, Tessa.”

“I love you,” I whispered back.

His hand came off my face and I closed my eyes.

I couldn’t bear to watch him leave.

I didn’t open my eyes until I heard the sound of my phone ringing. 

It was three hours later.

~2~

I answered the phone to a happy Bridget.
  The amazing contrast between the two of us seemed amazing.  She calling me happy, while I lay in bed, writhing in emotional pain. 

“You sound like hell,” Bridget said.

“I’m sick.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I know.”

I started to cry again, feeling stupid.  I never got this emotional, ever.  Even when I was thirteen, I never remembered getting like this.

“Tessa, what’s wrong?”

I sucked in all my tears, my air, my everything.  Then in one quick sentence I summarized it all.

“Jack is gone.”

Bridget told me to stay put and hung up the phone.  I rolled to the other side of my bed and closed my eyes.  My reaction by then was
whatever,
not really caring about a thing.  Jack would take care of my troubles, the ones he claimed he caused.

When Bridget showed up ten minutes later, it felt good to see someone.  She barreled into the apartment and into my bedroom, pulling the covers from me, reaching for my arms.

“I want to hear it all,” she said, “but you have to get up.  You can’t do this.  He’s not worth it.”

Oh, oh dear Bridget, Jack was worth it.

But I couldn’t tell her that.  I couldn’t tell her all that had happened.

I had to keep it simple, with some truth.

“He’s just gone,” I said.  I sat up.  My head felt like it weighed two hundred pounds.  It throbbed and I took a few seconds to gather myself.  “He had to go.”

“He left you, like this?”

Bridget scowled.  I could only imagine the conversation.  Telling me how I needed better, how I shouldn’t have trusted Jack.  Then she’d slip in details about someone she felt I should date.

I couldn’t have it.

“I knew he was leaving,” I said.  “From the second he came, he was going to leave.”

“And you slept with him?”

I nodded.  “I had my reasons.”

“I’m sure you did.  Do those reasons matter now?”

“Of course they do.  I just had hope that he would stay.  Magically just stay.  Like in the movies.”

Yes, I had to play the movie card.  It was the only way to break open Bridget’s motherly shell and have her become a twenty-three year old human.  I wanted her on my level, my understanding.  I wanted her to share my pain and then move on with our lives.

“The movies aren’t real,” Bridget said, her voice calmer, not believing her own words.

“I know that.”

I stood from my bed and pushed past her.  As I walked through my apartment to the kitchen, all I could smell was Jack.  Everything about him lingered in my apartment and forever would.  I told myself I’d have to get a new apartment.  Even the bathroom, where it really all started for me.

As I drank a glass of water, Bridget appeared just before the small kitchenette, her arms folded.

“I knew what I was doing,” I said.  “I just didn’t think it meant this much.”

“He took your virginity,” Bridget said.  “And then left.  What did you think was going to happen?”

True.  I didn’t anticipate Jack to leave, one more little detail that Bridget couldn’t know.

“Do you remember who took your virginity?” I asked, sounding bitchy.

Oh well.

“Of course I do,” Bridget said.  “I could tell you every detail of it.”

“Fine, you win,” I said.  “But I can’t take it back, can I?”

“No.  I’m sorry if I sound harsh.  I want you to be happy, Tessa.  And your face... when he talked to you, it gave me hope for you.”

That was the last thing I needed to hear.

I wept, turning to keep Bridget from seeing me, but that didn’t matter.  She turned me around and wrapped her skinny arms around me.  I was thankful for a best friend that was taller than me.  My head rested perfectly above her chest and below her chin. 

“It’s okay,” Bridget said.  “It’ll be okay.”

I shook my head.

It wasn’t going to be okay.

I hadn’t told Bridget anything about my father.  I wasn’t sure how to even begin to explain it.  How to tell her his intentions, because if I did, I would need to explain Jack.

“You have to believe it’ll be okay,” Bridget said.  “It hurts now, but give it time...”

I looked up at her, my best friend, and let a little slip.  “What if we don’t have time?”

“What does that mean?”

Before I could answer, a knock came at my door.

“Did you lock the door?” I asked.

“Of course, I always do.”

My eyes lit up.  I smiled.  I hurried from the kitchen and through the living room to the door. 

It was Jack.  Coming back to me.  Coming to make everything right, with me, together.  Like it was meant to be.

“Tessa...”

I ignored Bridget’s call.

I unlocked the door and opened it just as my mind wondered why I didn’t look into the peephole.  I never looked in the peephole, so why now?

“Theresa.”

The name, the voice, it made me cold and paralyzed.  I backed up, shaking my head, trying to ignore the knife in his hand.