Thrive (8 page)

She smiled with pride and turned back to her machine. “He adores
you
.”

I twisted my hands in my lap, realising why Lois had just opened up to me. There was a presence in the basement; I didn’t believe in ghosts and spirits – I believed those we loved stayed with us as memories and it was their memory that gave us faith. But I did believe in energy, in comfort, and accepting that comfort when unexplainable circumstances gave it to us. The basement was the place to open up and be honest.

“I don’t know what to do.” I watched a knowing smile ghost Lois profile. She had opened up the discussion and she was letting me meet her halfway. “I’m afraid we’re going to hurt each other and if we do, there won't be a way back.”

“You don’t believe in fate?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

I sighed. “Yes, I do, but fate has been less than kind to me.”

“It has been to Curtis, too. Maybe your reunion is fate’s doing all over again.”

“Maybe,” I nodded, wishing fate was a person so I could kick its ass. “But how do we know it’s not going to rip everything away from us again?”

“We don’t.” She shrugged and smiled over at me. “It’s why we have to make the most of every minute. Fate has a say, but if you make the first move, doesn’t it have to rethink its strategy?”

“I never thought of that.”

Lois turned her chair so she was facing me.

“Curtis is lost and has been for a long time. The only time I’ve ever seen him find himself is when he’s with you.”

“I’m going to fix this,” I said, a sudden sense of determination and courage washing over me.

Lois leaned forward and squeezed my knee. “I believe you.”

The ceiling above us thumped loudly, evidence that Curtis was awake and on his way down. Lois was right – elephant stampede.

I turned to watch the door and my heart leapt when he appeared at the top of the stairs. His hair was sticking out in every direction, and his jaw was covered in a dark five o’ clock shadow that made my tongue flex against the roof of my mouth. His sweats were riding low on his hips, showing off the deep ‘V’ that made my mouth water and my fingers wiggle on my lap, resisting the urge to trace every line of his bare torso until I had it committed to memory.

I couldn’t fight the temptation. As he crossed the floor, heading towards us, I stood up and walked purposefully towards him. My body collided with his without warning; I slipped my arms under his, pressed my palms to his shoulder blades, held him tightly and rested my head on his chest. I was conscious of Lois watching us and acutely aware that Curtis didn’t hold me back, until he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head.

“Good morning, Hulk,” I murmured, feeling more at home in his arms than I ever had anywhere else in the world.

His voice, low, hoarse and husky replied against my hair, “Good morning, beautiful.”

I wanted to hurt her. How was that even fucking possible? The consuming need I felt for her swirled like a torrent inside me until the only thing I felt was the need to release my frustration physically. She was going to leave and I was going to lose her. I was going out of my mind with worry that my back would be turned for a split second and she’d be gone. Forever. Disappeared, like she had before. And there was no trail to Thomas, no Jesse and his hackers, no job with Nina that would connect me to her. I had run out of options and the only option now was to keep her to myself.

What do animals do when they’re faced with the loss or rejection of a loved one? Their only loved one? The only thing on Planet Earth that fucking matters?

They claim them, they mark them, they brand them. They make them feel so much pain that they need the other to survive.

I had to make her feel pain so she knew I was the only one who could take it away.

~Curtis~

We said goodbye to Lois as the sun began to set, and climbed into Curtis’ car.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he pulled away, turned from the quiet suburban road and accelerated out of town.

“You need to get some clothes. You can't keep washing and wearing the same ones.”

“I have some in the boot. From Beth’s wedding.”

“Why didn’t you wear them?”

I shrugged. “I forgot I had them.”

“So you don’t want to go home and get some?”

“Are you dropping me off?”

“No. We can't be separated.”

“Why?”

He twisted his hands on the wheel. “It’s just not an option.”

“Fine,” I folded my arms and turned to look out of the window. “To your place we go.”

It was dark when we pulled up outside what I assumed was Curtis’ apartment building, and he tapped a code into the security box that gave us entry to an underground carpark. He pulled up in a space allocated for Mr Mason, saying nothing as he got out, retrieved my bags from the boot, and waited for me to join him. We climbed into the awaiting lift and climbed out again when it stopped on the ninth floor. We still hadn’t said anything to each other; the tense atmosphere swirled around us.

“Wait here,” Curtis said, dropping my bag to the floor before he stalked to the other end of the hallway. He opened the door and stepped inside, leaving it open when he disappeared into the darkness.

I waited for what felt like forever for him to come back, my patience evaporating by the second. I had two options: to burst in and demand he gave me more information, or to wait – to gently encourage him to let me in. I went with the first choice, snatched my bag up off the floor and followed after him.

I slammed the door behind me when I stepped into the apartment; it was dark. Only a dim light shone at the other end, which I assumed was Curtis’ bedroom.

“Curtis?” I called, dropping my bag to the floor and listening for him.

He appeared in the doorway of the lit room and gripped the door frame.

“I told you to wait.”

“I know.” Setting my hands on my hips, I met his angry glare. “And
I
told
you
I wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing.” He took a step out of the room, but I raised my hand, halting him before he got any closer. “Stop.”

He stood still, waiting.

“Were you looking for Charlie?” I asked. No answer. He just stared at me blankly. “Answer me, Curtis.”

“Yes.”

“Good. An honest answer.” I unbuttoned my blazer and lowered my arms, letting it fall to the floor.

“Don’t.”

“Does she have a key?”

“Yes.”

I walked towards him and stopped when the toes of my shoes touched his. I reached into the pocket of his jeans, taking my time to graze his thigh through the lining, before I pulled his phone out and held it up to him.

“Call a locksmith. Now.”

With a conflicted breath, he took it off me and I stepped back, popping the first button of my blouse open. I parted it gently, exposing a hint of the lace where my bra cups met in the middle of my chest. Curtis unlocked his phone, kept his eyes on me, and hungrily drank in my body as he hit one button and raised the phone to his ear.

“Landon,” he said when the person on the other end of the line answered. “I need an emergency locksmith…tonight. It needs to be done tonight.” He listened for a minute and ended the call, tossing his phone onto the nearest sofa. “It’s done.”

“Thank you.” I opened the rest of the buttons slowly, allowing the blouse to fall open. “How long?”

“Within the hour.”

“Perfect.”

I turned my back on him, dropping my blouse to the floor as I crossed the room to slide the chain on the front door into the lock. Turning to face Curtis again, I leaned back against the closed door.

“You’re going to give me some answers.”

“No, I'm not.” He moved closer, but stopped again when I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my jeans.

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

“Answers to what?” he huffed, aggravated by my approach.

Refusing to care, I popped the button open and parted the zip, revealing the lace trim of my underwear. “What does Charlie make you do?”

“Skye-”

“Easier question first.” I conceded. “What happened when I left? When you
made
me leave?”

“She does what you’re doing now,” he answered my earlier question. “She manipulates me into giving her what she wants.”

“And what does she want?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Money.”

“You give her money?”

“I
get
her money.”

“So you steal.” It wasn’t a question. The guilt and shame etched on his face when I said the words told me I’d hit the nail on the head.

I needed time to process, and couldn’t think of the next question.

“I didn’t do anything.” He backed up and leaned against the edge of the dining table. He was turning back to the other question and my head began to spin. “For years, I did nothing.”

“What’s nothing?”

A low grumble vibrated through him. “I fucked. I drank and I screwed a different woman every night.” I froze in shock. I knew that would be the answer, but hearing him saying it opened up a new can of pain. Curtis folded his arms, waiting for my reaction. He tipped his head towards my jeans. “Take them off, Skye.”

“I’m the one in control here,” I bit.

“No.” Half his mouth curled up into an arrogant smirk that made my toes curl into the thick carpet beneath my feet. “Even now, I’m in control.”

I shook my head, refusing to let him play me. He
was
in control. His answer decided my next question. He controlled exactly what he said and how much he revealed.

“You’re asking these questions, baby, but you don’t really want to know the answers.”

“Yes, I do.”

My voice was weak, and my hands trembled where they were frozen on the denim that was suddenly cold on my searing body.

“You do, huh?” Curtis pushed off the table and casually walked towards me.

I couldn’t draw a big enough breath to tell him to stop. How easily the tables had been turned. His walk was slow, deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. I was captivated, ensnared by the hunter and waiting to be seized.

He stopped a metre away from me and we drank in the heat that swirled around us.

“And what happens if I give you an answer you can't handle?”

“That won't happen.”

“Don’t push me, Skye,” he said in a voice so low and full of concern, it almost went unheard. But I didn’t miss the warning.

My response was to goad the beast – to shimmy out of my jeans and push them to the floor; my eyes never left his. I wasn’t going to allow him to break me, to make me content with whatever web of bullshit he spun. I stood up straight and met him with as much fire as I’d seen Charlie do in his office.

“Now what?” I asked, willingly giving him the control.

“Safe word.” His utterance of those two words, with so much meaning, caught me off guard. I wasn’t going to like where this was heading. “Choose one.”

I swallowed audibly and shook my head, “Why?”

“Because you’re going to want me to stop.”

“Then I’ll tell you to stop.”

“I can assure you, I won't listen.” He caressed a strand of hair and tucked it behind my ear. It was an intimate act, one sweet and tender, but I could feel the darkness joining us. “Choose a word.”

“Iridescence.”

“Iridescence?” His eyebrow shot up in question.

“Yes. The safe word isn’t for me…it’s to bring you back from where you’re about to go. To bring you out of the darkness and into the light with me.”

He pursed his lips as he considered what I’d said, then he winked. He was enjoying this, the descent into darkness.

His arm extended and his palm collided roughly with my stomach. My back hit the door and arched back off.

“Spread your legs and hold on to the doorframe.”

I did as he asked, pressing my heels back against the doorframe and gripping it tightly with my hands.

“Don’t let go. Don’t touch me. Don’t move unless I tell you to. Understood?”

“Yes.”

He turned and walked back to the room he was in earlier, leaving me in silence and near complete darkness. He returned a few minutes later, his shirt unbuttoned and fanning out as he strode towards me with purpose. His muscles rippled as he walked and the bruises on his torso appeared like dark, ominous shadows in the dim light. He held a black tie tight between his hands and stopped just in front of me with it raised between us.

“Head down,” he ordered, void of emotion.

He hadn’t just gone to choose a prop; he’d taken time out to put his armour on – the mask I’d seen him wear too many times.

“Why?” I asked, complying and dropping my head, my eyes catching sight of our bare feet. A purr settled at the back of my throat.

“I can't look at your eyes,” he answered, blinding me with the tie and tying a knot behind my head. His fingers brushed my chin and he raised my head back against the door. “And I can't bear the thought of you looking at me.”

“What are you going to do?”

I was afraid. The anticipation fizzed in my blood, but I was scared of what he would do. Curtis was right – we couldn’t trust each other. I closed my eyes behind the tie and listened for signs from Curtis other than those I’d normally see. His breathing was calm, steady and relaxed. His voice was passive and gave nothing away, but his breath felt warm against my neck when he leaned closer and whispered against my hypersensitive flesh.

“I’m going to give you what you want.”

When silence settled around me and I could no longer feel him, I knew Curtis had stepped away. Was this some sort of test? Was he just going to leave me standing here, to see how determined I was? My heart thumped in my chest, a pounding of nervous anticipation against my ribs. My hands remained clamped to the doorframe, fighting the urge to let go, tear the tie away and end whatever game of mind-fuckery Curtis Mason was playing with me.

“Do you know why I sent you away, Skillet?”

His voice broke through the thick atmosphere, the name he’d used stoking the embers of anger that had been smouldering deep, waiting for their chance to ignite. I knew he was close, but he didn’t touch me.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Don’t move, just talk…and listen.” Rough fingertips tickled the inside of my ankle. “I sent you away because you broke me, and I would have broken you.”

“How?”

He silenced me with a gentle smack to the inside of my thigh, sending the vibration traveling to the aching heat between my legs. I gasped.

“We would have broken each other. Every time we had a problem, we took it to the bedroom. Eventually we’d have had nothing but mindless sex.”

“Wasn’t that what you wanted?” Another smack that made me flinch and recoil. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?” Another smack. I hissed. “Stop it.”

“I told you,” he said with a low chuckle. “Say the word.”

“Fuck off.”

“Then stop talking.”

I shut my mouth and my teeth clamped down on the inside of my lips. Curtis’ mouth covered the spot where his hand had met my skin and he ghosted comforting kisses over the stinging flesh. His hand returned to my ankle, wrapping around it like a shackle. He hummed in dark delight. I squirmed.

“You left. I drank. I screwed around. I gave up on Geoff and I gave up on everything else…everything except making you mine. You see, Skillet, sending you away was a mistake.” I opened my mouth, but his free hand curled around my other ankle and squeezed, silencing me as effectively as the smacks. He was watching my face, searching for my reaction. “I’m an animal, baby. It’s instinct to protect myself at all costs. I’m programmed to take what I want. I sent you away because you threatened my safety and, for a split second, I forgot that my happiness depends on you. My survival depends on you. The king is nothing without his queen; he’s ripped open, left exposed and waiting to be conquered.”