I went back to my house, it’s empty, quiet. I like it, but I miss her. Miss—what a foreign word for me.
Miss?
I don’t miss anyone, let alone want anyone. I am a father, another word that should never ever leave my mouth. I don’t do kids. Kids and me in the same sentence equal disaster. She seems to think otherwise.
How do you love someone, when you don’t know how?
How do you leave someone, when you can’t?
I should leave, she’s been through enough. Her eyes tell me so, her heart tells me so. But I’m addicted from a small taste, wildly addicted, and I want more—more of her, all of her.
I’m not even there one hour when he comes knocking on the door, I knew he would.
“You won’t tell her,” is all he says, his hand on a gun.
“I won’t?” I question him and he laughs.
“You don’t have a hold of her anymore, Black. She won’t believe you anyway.”
“She won’t?” I toy with him again. He takes a step further into my house.
“You won’t like what will happen if you do.” I smile at him, his eyes twitch. “She may love you, but she’s learned to live without you, Black.”
“Has she? Or has she just been surviving?”
“You won’t like the outcome, Black,” he says as he turns to leave.
My mother has taken the kids, she knows I want to spend as much time as possible with him. I want him to remember, remember me. The things we’ve been through, the life-shattering moments that have happened between us. He needs to remember. I can’t remember it all by myself, someone else needs this burden that I carry.
He’s in the same position he was in the first time I walked into his house all those years ago. He’s at the stove, and the only thing he has on is a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Rose,” he says, and it makes me smile. My name coming from
those
lips.
“Liam,” I retort back to him.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
He turns so he’s facing me, his back up against the kitchen bench. “Just wanted to stop by, you ran out fast this morning.”
“I’m glad you did.”
He descends on me, it’s like a tiger eyeing his prey.
Am I ready for what he can give me?
His hand wraps around my wrist, I look down to his large hand, thinking about what damage those hands do. His ribs are purple with color, his lip has a slight cut to it. All the bad he carries, and I still want him. When I know I shouldn’t.
“Stay,” he says, his breath near my ear. I nod my head, unable to form any words. His free hand touches my chin, lifting it up and he slowly moves to my lips. He feather kisses me in each corner of my lips, then the center. He lets go while he kisses me, moving his hands to the back of my dress. I hear him unzip it. I freeze, he hasn’t seen this body, this broken and scared body and he notices.
“Don’t be afraid, you’ll like what I do,” he says against my lips. I have no doubt I would like everything he does, but will he still like me when he sees?
My dress drops to the ground, I’m left in a red bra and panties. He smirks and whispers, “Red.” His name for me when he didn’t know. My stomach is now exposed, my stretch marks now on display, as well as the scar, a scar from a night of horror. He runs his fingertips across my scars, then drops the sides of my bra. I unhook it with shaky hands—I’m afraid.
He stops moving when he sees, his eyes zooming in on my breast. My nipples completely scarred, from a man who’s now in hell. His face is anger, and I stop breathing, then he picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. I grip onto him, I never want him to let me go…
never.
I feel the silk of his sheets when he lays me down. He removes his towel, unafraid of his body, then he looks down at me and smirks. I hear my heart pitter patter harder. Little things he does make my heart beat hard.
“I don’t deserve you,” he says with a dull voice. “But I’m taking you.” He leans forward grabs my legs and pulls them apart harshly, spreading me. He reaches up and rips my panties off exposing me to him. He kisses up my thigh, slow, soft kisses then his mouth teases my entrance, then licks his way up to a place that hasn’t been touched in years. I shiver, my body breaking out in goosebumps.
Torture, that’s what he does, torture me. He gets me shaky, then his mouth moves down, away from that spot that makes you scream. His tongue drags itself, down, then back up. My hands are clinging to the pillow behind my head, my legs are shaking. He does this, on repeat. Until I come, and I can’t handle it anymore and I close my legs. Forcing him up, he lifts up on his hands, his head now in viewing pleasure. He smirks when he sees me, and that’s it. I don’t care what I look like, I don’t care that I’m so scared that I still have nightmares of that night. He doesn’t see it, all he sees is me. And only me, and right now, he’s all I see.
His body covers mine, he kisses my broken body. The one with the scars. He kisses my nipples so tenderly that I push his head down more to be rougher, he isn’t a soft man, and I don’t need him to be. I feel him then, inches away from where I need him. I push forward, he pushes backward teasing me. One touch, then it’s gone. The need is so great, I can’t take the pressure anymore. I push his shoulders backward, forcing him to the side of the bed so he’s on my side, then climbing on top of him. He looks surprised, I am too. Except in this moment, I don’t care.
“You want control?” he asks, grabbing my hips as I sit on him, his cock inches away. I don’t answer, instead grabbing him with one hand, positioning myself, then I lower. His eyes close for a second, then they’re straight back to me.
The world fades, it does this when I’m with him. I don’t understand it. He makes everything disappear. All I see is him, all I’ve ever seen is him. Why must I be so vulnerable to him? Why must I need him with a vengeance?
Something I will never understand.
He grabs me roughly, flipping me. I’m seconds away, I can feel it, but he isn’t. He doesn’t want to stop. He grabs my legs, pulling them straight up into the air. His green eyes on me, he fucks me hard, he takes no prisoners. I come, then he fucks me even harder.
I can’t move, it’s impossible. It’s been so long since I’ve had that. Had the need of him filled to an extent that it’s non-existent?
“Liam,” I say as he lies next to me on his bed, one I haven’t been in many times. I always slept on the floor, or in the spare room. It's odd. I turn my head to face him, he’s staring at the ceiling.
“Yes, Rose.”
“Don’t leave me again.”
He turns now so he’s looking at me. His face hard in thought. “You may wish I do leave.” I shake my head, no, not possible. “Did I love you, Rose?”
This time, it’s my turn to turn my head away.
What a question.
“You didn’t know what love was, though…” I don’t finish the sentence.
He sits up and looks down at me. “You loved me, of that I am sure.”
“How could I love you, if I didn’t understand it?”
“Do you understand it now?”
“Love is the word to make people feel better. People throw the word around, they don’t get it. I don’t understand it.”
“I understand it,” I say. I do, I thoroughly understand it. I’ve had my heart torn and broken. He did that. I’ve had it healed, just slightly, enough to live, through my children.
“I’m bad, I don’t have the good, the bad and the ugly attributes—I am plain and simply, bad. You want your children around that?” His child, he didn’t say that. I want to point that out. I sit up, grab my clothes and start getting dressed.
“I know what you are doing. Stop it.”
He cocks his head to the side as he watches me. “Please enlighten me.”
“I know you, Liam Black.” My face is in his face, I can feel his breath on my lips. “I know how you act, how you see things. You’re not bad. Well, actually, you are. Just not to those you love. You have no problem taking a life, especially if someone pays you. You do that because that’s all you know, but do you want to know something? I’m also all you know, I’m the person that will bring you back, the person that will be there, even when you torture someone because they hurt me. I am
that
person. So don’t you ask if I want you around
our
children. You would kill someone, no one could stop you if someone had hurt
our
children. You’re ruthless, but under all that, there’s something that nobody else has, and you have it. And fuck, some people are only lucky to see it.”
“Do you see me, Rose?”
“I see you, Liam Black. Do you see me?”
“I fucking see you like a freight train, and it’s going to fucking hurt, isn’t it?”
“It is, Liam. The best hurt you have had in a long time.”
Time.
It’s a fickle thing isn’t it?
People either want it to go fast or people want to slow it down.
I want to pause it.
I know what’s to come.
I know I have to do it.
But at this moment, with her, I want it to pause and never move.
Her head turns to face me, she places her phone on the bench, smiles softly, her beautiful pink lips are plump. I want them.
“I’m leaving today…” Un-pause, and her smiles drops. “I have to go back.”
“You don’t.” Her head shakes, she’s telling me no. She doesn’t want me to leave. I have to. Things have to be done, and only I can do them.
Payback.
“Why?”
“They stole my life. I’m going to steal theirs.”
“Don’t go, Liam. Please don’t go, I
will
beg you.”
“You can’t change my mind, I have to.”
“I’m leaving, if you decide to not go on your witch hunt, you know where to find me.” I watch as she collects her things, and she rushes to the door.
“Rose.” She turns back to look at me.
“Don’t trust, Robbie.”
She shakes her head at me. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Liam Black. Remember that.” Then she slams the door as she leaves. Leaving me in a house that holds so many memories.
The closet in my room is full of black clothing and white undershirts. They fit perfectly like no time has passed.
She thinks I could be good, or am good. I am not, and she’s about to find out just how bad I really am.