RETRACE (10 page)

A cold bite of marble prickles my back as the heat of Reeves’ touch spreads inside of me. One of his hands massages my breast, near aggressively, while the other skims my skin from the side of my neck till it reaches the other. I arch into his touch, sensing the swell and the moisture in my groin intensifying. He is prone above me, watching me with undeniable burning as I bite my swollen lips and direct him a stare that commands him to go on.

Just as he leans in to lick my lips to part while his hand moves from my breast to slide under my jeans, his phone starts to chime and vibrate right beside us. He quietly curses but keeps exploring me urgently. His fingers thread further inside my pants, and ever so slowly graze over my thin, satin panties. He adds pressure, moving his thumb in slow motion up and down over the soaked, delicate fabric. I push my back away from the hard surface as his finger moves the fabric sideways and sinks into me.

Following the sounds of my escalating moans, the phone stubbornly rings again. And again. At the fourth time the device starts a new session of chimes and shudders, Reeves flings his engaged stare to check the screen. His sudden stiffness is more than evident. The last thing I want is for him to stop this heavenly torture, nonetheless, I say in a breathy voice, “Maybe you should get it, it might be urgent.”

Reluctantly, he takes a deep, composing inhale. Irritation takes over his features as he picks up the phone. I inch to sit, adjusting my bra, and watch him answer the call.

“Katie, what’s up?” He holds the phone with his shoulder next to his ear, and steps to wash his hands, to wash me off, at the sink. A bitter frisson shoots through my stomach, and I turn to shrug my sweater on, cinching it around my waist. He listens to whoever this Katie person is with his back turned to me, the only clue of his state is the flex of his hard jaw.

“Calm down, doll.” His voice is the softest I’ve heard it so far. The tone of his voice and the accolade slits through me. “I can’t understand what you’re saying. Breathe, Katie.” He turns around, his face veiled with worry, his brows sunk together as he heads toward the balcony.

I decide not to jump into any conclusions and instead search for the bathroom to freshen up. I take a step back to lean on the tiled wall. I close my eyes tight and tip my head up against the coldness. Willing to ease my overall erratic high, I take a few lengthened breaths. I stay put for a few moments more just to give Reeves further privacy to end his call. Plastering my game face on, I reach for the doorknob. I’m not even sure how to approach this situation we’ve gotten ourselves into. What do you say to someone you’ve just encouraged to feel you, closely, while he might be seeing someone else? Bile starts crawling up my throat thinking he might be in a relationship. It’s not that I’m a saint of any sort, far from, but I’d never be unfaithful, nor help someone else be.

And it’s not that we owe each other anything, but still, it’s not that I find myself too often in such a situation.

Reeves has his back to me when I step back into the kitchen. He rummages through a drawer, before turning back. He shoves a wallet into his back pocket while holding a set of keys in his other hand. Impatience is clearly displayed through his edged features.

“Listen Nia, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go, now.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” I blurt. “Because I’d never start, or continue anything with you, if you are in a relationship.” For sanity’s sake and to get his hands on me again, I tense while waiting for his answer.

“No. She is not my girlfriend. But I don’t have time for this right now. I have to leave.” I cringe at the mild exasperation holding his words. The blend of frustration and humiliation, to a degree, being once again so easily brushed off, stings. I send him a hostile gaze. I’d be okay with this cold halt if some sort of explanation was given, which he is obviously not about to give. I take a few steps toward the main door, passing by him. I shrug off his hand that finds its way to my back. Our short walk to get out couldn’t be more in contrast to this same route we took getting in the apartment. I’m not sure who is more eager to get out, me or him.

“I’ll call you,” he says in a voice that could not sound more contrived.

“Whatever…” I answer, skipping the last couple of stairs. Faster than he can reply, I am at the door to my apartment. His response, whatever it was, is swallowed by the thud of my door as I slum it shut.

I rest with my back to the door, able to hear his steps fade away and the sound of the elevator doors closing. I try to calmly, if possible, rerun what just happened in my head. I shy away from being that girl, the overreacting, bitching type. Nevertheless, the simplest elaboration would have been enough. Again, it’s not that he owes me anything. But I’d expect him to have the decency to give me some excuse rather than just run off to some other woman, no explanation whatsoever, again… Fool me once shame on you; fool me twice, having me spread my legs for you with the slightest snap of your fingers, shame on me.

The chaos running through me is playing at the seams of my loose nerves. The panic in Katie’s voice when I finally answered her call. Not having answered the first few times. Having to stop with my God damn fingers deep inside the subject of my many jerk offs. I press the remote to lock my black Land Rover and jog toward where Katie said she would be, scanning the area under the evening light. When I finally spot her, standing by her car, talking to an elderly lady, seeming unscratched, the breath I had caged inside me gushes out in relief.

“Reeves,” she says to my chest, burrowing under my arms. I kiss the crown of her head and give her the comfort she seeks in a tight embrace.

“Are you hurt?” I pull her back to run a closer inspection over her. She shakes her head.

“She is fine, we both are,” says the lanky lady in the oversized pants suit standing next to us.

“What happened?” I ask, returning my attention to Katie. It’s more than evident she is making an effort to stay composed. I wonder if it’s for my benefit. Strangely enough, she is the one person I’m not able to read. Maybe it’s because what she represents or whom she belongs to, but when it comes to her I’m almost blind.

“I spaced out and bumped into her car sideways,” she answers in a thin voice, her eyes gesturing to the lady beside her. She claps her pink glossed lips together, her big blue eyes decorated by an apology return my hard stare. She reaches for a lock of her blond, wavy hair and nervously twirls it around her finger. My lips stretch to a grim line.

“Did you exchange papers? Is there anything else you’d need from us?” I ask the lady beside us who eyes me curiously.

“Yes we did. I am fine,” she responds.

I nod. “I’m sorry about your car,” My eyes, followed by hers, zero in on the serious scrape to the side of her vehicle. “If there’s anything else you might need, Ma’am… Here are my numbers.” I fetch a business card from my wallet and hand it to her.

“Let’s go get something to drink,” I tell Katie who just bobs her head in agreement.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she says to the lady who already has her back to us, entering her car. Katie adjusts her purse on her shoulder and threads her fingers through mine. I twist my mouth but let her have it her way. I always do.

“Chamomile tea, and…” Katie turns to me in question while the waitress waits, tapping with a pen on her open notepad. “Coffee?”

“Draft, whatever you have on tap is fine,” I say, and the brunette server sends an enthusiastic, inviting smile my way, which I disregard, turning back to Katie. Katie gazes at me carefully, biting her fingernail. I reach for her hand and place it on the table, stopping her anxious self-defiling, and slouch back into the red and white vinyl booth.

“What really happened?” I ask. She swirls a lock of hair around her finger, and when her beautiful eyes gloss over I cover her palm with mine. She raises her eyes to look at me fleetingly, and casts them down.

“I was thinking about tomorrow and got distracted,” she says. My heart squeezes viciously in tandem to the tear leaving her left eye. I abandon my side of the booth and move to sit next to her. She leans her head on my shoulder and whispers, “Will you drive me there tomorrow?”

I need to swallow the lump in my throat before answering. “Of course I will.”

“Reeves, it’s so hard.”

“I know, doll,” I say, and wrap my arm around her.

“And it doesn’t get any easier. I thought that with time it would, but it doesn’t. I miss him so much.” She can feel my empathy and agreement by the nod of my chin on the center of her head.

“Three years,” I say, and futilely attempt to block out the snaps of visions too vividly taking form before my eyes.

The last knowing glance we traded.

The smoke of the gun.

The perpetual pain that follows doesn’t take long to show. I release the tight hold I realize I have on her. She lifts her gloomy eyes to mine, and our stares link in unified pain. For a long beat, our eyes convey sorrow, memories, and loss.

It takes me a moment to grasp what Katie does next, a moment too long. I snap out of my momentary lapse when her lips on my mouth part and her tongue urges mine to gap. I squeeze my eyes tight, and gently pull my head back.

“No, Katie.” I flicker my hardened eyes into hers that have taken a softer tone. “No.” A fresh tear threatens to roll from her eye and I shake my head.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and seems relieved by the waitress’ interruption as she places our drinks before us. I turn to face Katie after thanking the waitress. Her stare is glued to the steaming white pot. I hold her chin between my finger and thumb and bring her to look at me.

“We’ve been through this, Katie. You promised,” I say, willing my determination to funnel through my voice and stare. “This will never happen. I love you very much,
as a sister
. I’d do anything for you, but this. You are beautiful inside and out and I’m sure there are a lot of guys out there who’d do anything if you’d just give them a chance.” I crack my lips into a smile and add, “I’d beat the crap out of them if they’ll ever lay a finger on you, both on Ben’s and my behalf.” She lightly giggles though through a dejected grin.

“Why wouldn’t you give it a try?” She asks next, composing herself. I reach for the tea pot and pour her a drink. I take a sip of my chilled drink.

“I care about you, but not like this,” I say. “You are like a sister to me.”

“Because you are stubborn, and annoying,” she says playfully. I’m more than glad for her mood to shift and that she starts her usual banter.

“How old is Jake, by the way?” she asks as we are about to leave. I sign the bill and throw her a look over my shoulder.

“Too old for you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Well, if you don’t want me, I need to look for someone else who will.” It’s my turn to roll my eyes. I tug her hand, pulling her after me toward the exit.

“Why didn’t you call Stanley to come help you? Not that I mind you calling me, but I guess he’ll be upset to find out you were in trouble and didn’t let him know.”

Katie leans her hip onto her newly dented Volkswagen Golf. She raises her hand to cover her eyes from the street light as she looks up at me.

“Well, you know how my dad gets when we near the date of the anniversary,” she says and her words tear us both up inside. I huff assent. “I didn’t want him to have something else upsetting him.” Her eyes focus on the metal chain around my neck that holds mine and Ben’s dog tags. My thoughts sway to the little shrine of photos and medals the Evans have in their living room. The thought of Ben’s family, the guilt, the responsibility, and the self-condemnation that suffocates me each time they shower me with love and sense of belonging, tugs at my heartstrings. That’s when I need to leave. That’s when I need to get away from Katie, from my thoughts and everything that takes me to the moment where I wish that gun was pointed at me instead.

“Okay, when do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?”

“We plan to be there right after my ECON class. I guess around noon.” She beeps her car unlocked.

“You want me to pick you up from campus?”

She nods with a thin smile. She inches to her tiptoes and leaves a soft kiss on my jaw. I cup her cheek and rub my thumb over her soft skin, returning her smile. I watch her until she gets settled in her car and starts to drive away.

Reversing the jeep into one of my parking spots, I contemplate whether I feel like going to the bar, or maybe just sleep or drink the rest of the evening away.

I throw my keys to the kitchen counter and fetch a water bottle from the fridge. I step out onto the balcony and slouch on one of the brown loungers. The apartment is not wide enough to contain my frustration. Drinking the cold water, I stare ahead aimlessly as the sky slowly converts into a darker blanket.

A painful coil strings within me. I close my eyes and shield the world away, resting my arm over my face. Three years. Tomorrow will be the third anniversary of the day my life fell into pieces. The third year in which the closest person to me was taken away. Each time my thoughts bring me back to that day, to his last moments, I can not find even one damn reason why it should have not been me. As tomorrow becomes almost tangible, the memories that so far I’ve managed to keep at bay, crawl in. Sounds and voices, fragments of sentences, start funneling into my head, escalating into a beldam of accusations, and guilt.

I step back into the apartment and start pacing the space. Almost manically looking around, for something, I don’t even know what, something that will stop this commotion in my head. My heart drums to the beat of chanting in my mind. I pass room after room, looking, searching, till I find myself sitting at the side of my bed, next to an open drawer of the night table, with my unmarked gun in my hand. I observe the weapon, rotating it from side to side. My eyes roam over every mark, every turning, and every imprint. As I realize what I’m studying so fascinatedly in my hands, a cold shiver runs over me. I toss the weapon into the drawer and slum it shut. I drop back to the mattress and close my eyes under my trembling palms. I shake my head with a need to shout, with a need to shut it all out. I want to be numb. I need to do something to take it all away before I’ll lose it, and either destroy everything around me, or take a path that has no return.