Pure Illusion (4 page)

It’s Who
You
,
I
, We Are

The
warm sun lingers on my skin, waking me from a deep slumber. My eyelids lazily
flutter open to the brilliancy around me that filters through the thick
treetops outside the large windows.

Hunter
lives in a spacious two-story, three bedroom house made of grey stone and glass,
outside of town in the midst of the forest. There’s very little privacy when
every wall is purely see-through. But I guess seclusion isn’t an issue when
you’re surrounded by wild green jungle-like vegetation and have no neighbors or
prying eyes in sight.

As
I wipe the sleep from my eyes, I notice that my left wrist is stretched above
my head and secured to one of the poles on his wrought iron headboard by metal
handcuffs.

I
have to pee and I can’t move.

Shit!

My
eyes dart to the pillow beside me with a folded sheet of plain white paper that
has a written note:

Went out for a
run and to get groceries.

Don’t trust you alone yet so I cuffed
you.

It shouldn’t take long. Be back soon.

Hunter

Infuriated,
I strain against the cuffs, thrashing like a rabid animal, quickly exhausting
myself. My head starts to spin from the sharp, jerky motions. My heavy
breathing and erratic pulse slows as I still my movements. Being cuffed to
Hunter’s bed was one of my favorite fantasies.  

Why
are you freaking out? This is what you always wanted, right?
my
subconscious
asks.

A
strong warm, tingly feeling settles in the pit of my stomach and between my
legs, stirring a deep longing I kept carefully at bay. Now, I don’t know
whether I have to pee or just plain horny. I need to be relieved either way.

Inhaling
deeply, I close my eyes and breathe in Hunter’s masculine scent, letting it
calm me. The warmth, tingly sensation before has intensified immensely. It’s
spreading. I feel it in my fingers and all the way down to the tips of my toes.

My
free hand travels down the slop of my stomach, into the waistband of my
panties, between my legs. I’m soaked. God, this feels so wrong but I’m in
crucial need to alleviate myself. I need to come. If I don’t, it feels like the
weight of it all will crush me.

Panting,
I start to touch myself, thinking of Hunter and his longish blond hair, clear
blue eyes, and smooth, sun-kissed skin. My chest heaves as my breathing turns
ragged. I massage my clit rougher, imaging his powerful, well-defined arms
around me, holding me, touching me, and caressing me.

It
feels like a billion emotions are racing through me, all clashing together,
leaving scorching desire in its wake. The heavenly sensations begin to build. I
dig my heels in the mattress and yank harshly against the restraints as my
entire body begins to tremble. Moaning softly, I come undone at the seams.
Dragging my wet hand out of my underwear, I inhale and sag back into the bed,
sated. It’s like I’m melting into his sheets. I feel so much better.

My
labored breaths and pounding heart fills the silence, until I hear someone
crumbling a plastic wrapper.

I
feel my entire body flush.

Oh.

My.

God.

Mortified,
I keep my eyes screwed shut.

“That
was so much better than porn,” Hero murmurs. “I’m like, so hard right now. My
dick hurts.”

“Naughty
girl, Isabel,” teases Falcon in mock admonishment. “You always look amazing
when you come, though.”

I’m
going to die a million deaths from embarrassment.

Gathering
all my courage I can muster, I peek out of one eye. Three sets of eyes are
staring back at me. Hero slowly and seductively licks crumbs off his lips in a
way it would make girls’ hearts stop. Falcon grins back at me, his brown locks
curling over his navy shirt collar. He looks good. Falcon always looks good.
Hunter leans in the doorjamb, arms crossed at his chest, his sharp gaze on me.
He is dressed in black basketball shorts, sneakers, and a gray loose shirt that
is drenched with sweat.

How
does he sweat in the wintertime?

“That
was quite a show, young lady,” Falcon scolds lightly. His muscled, insanely
ripped limbs bring him closer to me. Hunter suddenly straightens his pose,
grabbing Falcon’s arm, bringing him to an abrupt halt. “I need to un-cuff her and
she has to get dressed.”

Falcon’s
brows furrow and his light brown eyes drop to Hunter’s hand. “I’ve seen her
come. I’ve seen her naked, too. So let me go before I kick your ass in front of
her and your little brother.”

“Hero.
Out,” Hunter
growls.

Hero
throws a flirtatious wink my way that chills my skin and disappears from my
view.

Hunter’s
free hand fists at his side, ready to strike. They can’t fight. They were best
friends once upon a time. It’s just wrong.

“Please
don’t fight,” I quickly blurt out.

Their
eyes shift to me.

“Falcon,
I love you so much, my shining knight. Can you please give me and Hunter a
moment?
Please
.”

He
gives me a slight nod, jerking his arm free from Hunter’s tight grasp.

Hunter’s
jaw clenches and he stares fiercely at the back of Falcon’s head, as if he
wants to knock it right off. Falcon exits the room, shutting the door after
him.

His
hard gaze flickers to me as he moves in my direction. He sits next me, never
losing eye contact.

“Un-cuff me.
I need to pee
and shower,” I whisper, avoiding his eyes now.

“I
went to the store to buy ingredients. You still like chocolate chip pancakes?”

I
don’t reply, but he keeps talking anyway.

“I
fixed them every morning for you.
Wanted to cook them
perfectly.
I practiced for a whole month once in the summer. What
twelve-year-old boy practices making perfect pancakes to please their best
friend?”

He
used to fix me chocolate chip pancakes all the time when we were younger. They
were always, always delicious.

He
blows out a long breath, raking his hand over his face, as if he’s trying to
control his anger. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Not
responding, I stare at a fixed spot ahead on the wooden door.

“Eyes.
Now, Isabel,”
Hunter orders in a lethally quiet tone that makes my hairs stands on the back
of my neck and a strong pickle race across my skin.
           

My
eyes quickly dart to his unforgiving ones.

“Did
you enjoy yourself?” he repeats, all patience gone.

I
nod once, feeling my cheeks burn and heat.

What
the hell was I thinking?

“Who
were you thinking about?”

“I
have to pee, really bad, Hunter. Please un-cuff me,” I whine softly.

He
cocks his head to the side, as if considering something, then simply says,
“No.”

“But
I have to go.
Un-cuff me.
I might pee in your bed. It won’t
be a pretty sight at all.”

His
lips twitch and he raises his brows as if saying,
do you really think I give
a shit?
I groan, straining with all my might against the cuffs. I’m
flopping around like a fish out of water.

Hunter
arm reaches out and he presses a hand, palm down on my stomach and pushes down.
His touch seers right through my skin again. I inhale sharply, feeling my heart
pound against my ribs. The feeling is so intense that I feel light-headed.
“Settle down, Isabel.”

“Hunter,”
I gasp.

“Shh.”
His fingers splay over my navel and his thumbs sweep lightly across my skin
there.

My
heart is squeezing so tightly in my chest it, like it’s about to explode at any
second.

“My
brother has a key to my place and let Falcon in. When I came home, they were
bunched in the doorway, mouths drooling. I pushed my way through and saw you
coming, hard.” He brings his hand up to his face making a tight fist. “Hero
knows what you look like when you come. He knows what you sound like.” Hunter
drops his hand, shutting his eyes and tipping his head down, as if some awful
tragedy struck. “I want to hurt both of them, Isabel. I don’t have the
tolerance for shit like this. I don’t have the tolerance for
you
.”

He
doesn’t have the tolerance for me?

My
breathing turn heavy as I continue to listen to his words that strike me like
stones to the head.

He
gives me a critical once-over,
then
shakes his head in
disgust. It unnerves me in a way it shouldn’t. I know he dislikes me, but does
he hate me as well? “You’re a smart girl so I don’t understand why you’re
acting like a fucking idiot.” The muscles in his jaw tense as he grits his
teeth. “You need to get yourself together, Isabel. And fast before I…” He trails
off, running a hand angrily through his hair and squeezing as he goes.

Before
he what? 

Hunter
stands abruptly, startling me. He digs in his pocket and pulls out a shiny
small metallic key, unlocking me from the restraints.

I
clutch my numb wrist to my chest in my hand, swinging my legs off the edge of
the bed. Hunter steps closer, caging me in. The fiery heat emitting off his
body is enough to smother me, it’s wrapped around me in a thick, heavy cloud,
choking me. His scent overwhelms me. He smells like sweat and fresh lavender,
it’s making my head spin as I stare down at his running shoes.

His
hand reaches out and flips my long hair over my left shoulder. That same hand
touches the side of my face, dragging down my skin until his fingers press in on
my lips. “You have a pretty mouth,” he utters lowly, his voice dripping with
lust.

My
lips part in a gasp. His thumb slides between the seam of my mouth and then
dips inside and touches my tongue. He tastes of salt and wild grass and
something sweeter, something that’s only him. He removes his thumb as swiftly
and as quickly as he slipped it in.

I
release a shaky breath and collapse back first to the mattress, my entire body
quivering. This is very bad because I want to block out everything including feelings
for Hunter. “Take a shower. Your pancakes will be ready by then,” he murmurs
over his shoulder as he walks away.

Hurting

Sitting on a stool at the kitchen bar,
dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt, dark jeans, black Converses, holding
Tyler’s bear in the crook of my arm, I watch Hunter rinse off my syrup-covered
plate. His pancakes were amazing, better than I remember. It’s been so long
since I’ve had them. 

Hero left as soon as Hunter told him to
and Falcon is pacing on the front porch, whispering irritably on the phone.

Hunter places the light blue plate in
the plastic dish rake on the counter, next to the sink. Seeing him wash dishes
in so odd. He used to keep his room very filthy when we were kids. He never ever
cleaned. Dirt just piled on top of more dirt. Now he has transformed into a
neat-freak. Everything in his elegant glass box is weirdly organized and color
coordinated. Not one item out of place. His conversion is truly baffling to
witness.

“He’s talking to his boyfriend,” Hunter
says flatly, his back facing me.

“So,” I reply, nonchalantly.

Falcon told me he was bi when we first
dated six years ago. It was never a problem for us.

“So?”

“Yeah, so?”

He snorts, amused, in disbelief and
dunks his hands back into the soapsuds.

I study Hunter for long moment, coming
up with the only conclusion he would care about Falcon’s sexuality. “You know,
Hunter, being homophobic doesn’t look good on you. We do live in small southern
town and all, but I thought you were more of a decent person than that. You’re
just as bad as your mother.”

His spine automatically straightens and
his hands stop searching in the foamy water. “I’m not homophobic, Isabel,”
says, offended and through gritted teeth.

Yeah, but your mother is.

“You know that. Jesus, I used to watch
reruns of
Will and Grace
with you. I let you paint my face in glittery
makeup and add pink flower and butterfly clips in
my
hair,” he says in a
low, strained voice.

He takes his hands out the dish suds and
slams his wet fists against the sink counter, starling me and making me jump.
He clutches the edge of the sink, breathing heavily and trying to control his
anger. “I’m not like my mother. I’m not anything like my mother,” he mutters,
irately.

I’d apologize but it wouldn’t be
sincere. In a strange and vengeful kind of way, making him upset makes me feel
a lot better.

He wipes his hands on a small green dish
towel that hangs off the handle of his stove. “I need some air,” mumbles,
turning to face me. His ocean blue eyes have turned cold and sharp. Hunter
leans his back against the sink and stares at me. “I’m going out for a while.”

“Okay,” I whisper, feeling a dull ache
in my chest.

“Gonna stop by your house to pick up
your mail. Do you need something?”

I nod. “My brother’s laptop, it should
be on his desk in his room.”

“Got it,” he snaps, scooping up his
truck keys off the bar. He strolls to the door and then halts, turning to face
me. “I want you here, in my bed when I get back. You’re not ready to be on your
own yet.”   

“Okay,” I repeat, unsure of why I’m
agreeing with him.

His lips twitch and he swings around,
walking out the door. Falcon gives him a vicious glare as he moves past him,
coming back in the house towards me. Hunter ignores him completely. Having
Hunter and Falcon under the same roof is mindboggling. They haven’t been around
each other since our freshman year of high school.

“I really don’t like him, Izzy,” he
says, annoyed. “Why are you even here with him after what he put you through?”

I touch Falcon’s knee in a reassuring
squeeze. He places his hand around mine and brings it up to the counter top of
the bar, rolling my sleeve up. His fingers lightly trace the fine white scars
that are littered across my flesh. “He hurt you to the point where you had to hurt
yourself. I don’t know what his motive is, but I don’t trust him. He’s hungry
for something to destroy; I see it in his eyes. I don’t trust him, especially
with
you
, my love.” Falcon locks eyes with me, bringing my palm up to
his mouth to kiss it. His familiar soft lips spark a light within me.

Before I can stop myself, I lean in and
grab his face with my free hand and press my lips harshly to his. His breath
hitches, his lips parting. My tongue darts inside and touches his. He groans,
then
places his hands on my shoulders, gently pushing me
away. “I can’t,” he says breathless, brown eyes wide and pained. “I love you,
but I love him, too. I can’t hurt you or him. Forgive me?”

I settle back on the stool, feeling
extremely foolish. “I put you in a difficult spot. I’m sorry. I’m selfish. I
want to be selfish right now, Falcon. But I don’t want to hurt you, either.
Forgive
me
?”

He smiles, bright and beautiful.
“Always, Izzy, always.”

I pull my bunched up sleeve down, running
my hand over the fabric, smoothing the wrinkles. “How’s Vic anyway?” Victor is
Falcon’s hot Latin lover. He met Vic at his art school in Japan his freshman
year.  

“He’s as bossy and whiny as ever. He
actually told me what designer jewelry he wanted for his engagement ring, the
cut, the size, the clarity, everything. My brat has expensive taste. I’m
getting gray hairs at the ripe age of twenty-one.”

“You spoil him too much,” I tease.

“You’re right. He left school and followed
me here when I told him not to. He’s worried about you. He misses you, too.”

“He’s sweet. I miss him.” Falcon is
definitely the more masculine one, the protector. Victor is slim, unbelievably
stunning, and heartbreakingly kind. “We should go out for dinner tonight.”

“Roxy’s Diner?”

I nod, excitedly.

Falcon’s light brown eyes sparkle and
then narrow. “Are you two gonna get me in trouble tonight?”

“Maybe,”
I say, mischievously.

***

Roxy’s
Diner is a cool retro restaurant with peppermint booths, checkerboard floors,
and bright bubblegum pink walls. The walls are hung with large black and white
photos of celebrities in the late nineteen forties and fifties. The diner has a
functioning jukebox and even the waitresses wear those adorable little pink and
white dress uniforms with the cute aprons tied around their waists and the
paper hats atop their heads. This warm, inviting place always, no matter what’s
cooking, smells like fresh baked apple-pie. This diner is a time capsule. I
love this place.

“Will
ya’ll be having the usual?” Candy asks, smiling sweetly at each of us. She has
shiny fiery red long hair and pretty large green eyes. Her skin is marble white
and flawless. She, Falcon, Hunter, and I all went to school together. Candy and
Hunter dated on and off throughout the years. But Hunter decided to settle down
with Sally Baker, Ms. Cherry Creek herself. Sally is the town’s cherished and
beloved beauty queen. Her father is now the mayor of Cherry Creek. After a year
of them being together, Hunter and Sally got engaged last summer. But six
months ago Hunter and Sally mysteriously broke up for no apparent reason.
Cherry Creek is a very small-town of only seven thousand and ten people.
Everyone knows
everyone
and
everything
, but everyone was, and
still is, baffled by the split between the two. They appeared picture perfect
together.
Barbie and Ken.

“Yeah,”
Falcon answers, “’cept add a strawberry shake to Izzy’s order. She loves
strawberry shakes.”

“Perfect.
It’ll be right up,” Candy replies before wandering around to other tables.

“I
know why her parents named her Candy,” Vic says, his brown eyes glinting at us.

“Why?”
I ask, smiling.

“Yeah.
Why?” Falcon
asks too.

“’Cause
I bet she’s sweet as sugar. I practically got diabetes from her beaming smile
and batting eyelashes.”

“Honey
lump, where do you come up this stuff?” Falcon asks, truly intrigued.

“One
of many talents,” he purrs.

“That
was good, but her mom could only eat candy and sweet stuff when she was
pregnant with Candy. It was the only thing that stayed down and didn’t make her
sick. But Candy is really, really sweet, though,” I add.  “It’s almost
unnatural.”

Vic
and Flacon smile at me. “It’s time to spill your guts, Pocahontas. Why on earth
are you staying with John Smith?” Vic questions, suspiciously.

Exhaling,
I sink back into the booth and stare at the happy couple that’s deeply in love
with one another. I’d be sick with envy if I didn’t love Falcon so much. They
both seem vibrant and full of life when I’m in a dull gray zone. I pull some
napkins from the dispenser and toy with them, stretching them between my
fingers. “He found me.”

“He
found you?” Falcon says, confused.

“I
took some…pills and dozed off in the tub,” I mumble, shifting my eyes out the
plate-glass window avoiding theirs. The red glow of the bright neon lights
outside of the diner bounces off the smooth mirror puddles in the black cracked
street.

“Bullshit,
Izzy. You took pills so you wouldn’t wake up,” Falcon corrects with a sudden
harshness that makes me shiver.

“Honey,
you need to calm down,” Vic suggests quietly.

Feeling
Falcon’s anger radiate off him in lethal bolts, I revert my eyes to his, trying
my best not to flinch from pain in his gaze.
“Yeah.
You’re right. I didn’t want to wake up. I still don’t. My father fucking hung
himself in the basement. My mother killed herself with a fatal cocktail mixture
of prescription drugs. My brother,
my Tyler
, jumped off The Suicide
Bridge. I. Want.
To.
Die. You and Hunter can’t watch
me forever. Why should you? I don’t have to suck it up and live life if
I
don’t want to. I can be a coward. Living and dying is
my
decision. It’s
mine alone. You and Hunter don’t seem to realize that. You guys just don’t get
it; I don’t have to move on.”

Falcon’s
jaw hardens to the point I think all his pretty white teeth might crumble to
broken fragments under the strain and pressure of grinding them. “You,” he
states severely pissed, “don’t have a choice anymore. That privilege died when
you wanted to. Swear to God, Isabel, swear to fucking Christ, I’ll have your
ass on a long flight back to Japan with us…” in a move too fast for my eyes to
process, Falcon’s arms shoots out and grasps my arms by my elbows, cruelly
jerking me forward and across the table until our noses touch “…don’t test me.
Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Breathing
raggedly, I narrow my eyes.

Falcon’s
grasp tightens, cutting off the flow of blood in my veins. “Do you understand
me? If I ask again, your ass will be too sore to sit on. Got it?”

My
eyes drop down to the wrinkled napkins that I grip tightly in my hands. Falcon
has to have total and complete domination in his relationships. When we first
dated, I thought it was some kind of juvenile phase. But I was wrong. He’s just
controlling, that’s who he is and, to me, it’s one of his best qualities. “I
understand.”

He
releases me and I take huge breath, the blood painfully circulating in my arms
again.

“Honey,
you need to approach Izzy carefully. She’s already frightened. Make her feel at
ease,” Victor says softly, caressing Falcon’s tense arm. Then Vic’s warm brown
eyes flicker to me. “Izzy, you haven’t experienced what life has to offer yet.
You’re only twenty. Take a chance and do something so difficult it feels
impossible. Live.”

“I
can’t face the world as myself. I feel too raw,” I murmur.

“Who
says you have to?” Vic asks. “What do you want to be? Pick someone so far away
from who you truly are.”

I
ponder on this for a while, coming up with one thing. “I want to be a whore,
maybe just for tonight, or maybe longer.” I shrug. “Who knows?”

“Fun
choice,” Vic agrees.

“I
know, right? I’ve only slept with one person, who happens to be with the love
of his life right now. My options of other men in Cherry Creek are very
limited, but I still get to choose who I want to fuck. It’s been two and a half
years since I’ve had any action. Maybe I’ll find a lonely old man or
something.” 

Falcon
drops his head, squeezing his eyes shut, muttering angry things too low for me
to hear under his breath.

“We
should go to
Mayhem
after this,” I add.

Mayhem
is an exclusive nightclub just outside of town. It’s world famous for the plush
interior and insanely attractive women and men bartenders and staff. The
coolest part is Falcon’s father, Blake, owns the entire place.

Vic’s
gives me a concerned glance, giving Falcon’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Sure,
why not.”

When
Candy comes back with our food and drinks, I’m strangely the only one who has
an appetite. I’m really hungry now, and not only for food.