Speak (The Voice trilogy Book 2) (13 page)

Chapter 13

              As Charlie and I lurch through traffic, my mind wanders to the situation I have really created here. I am getting swallowed by his life so easily, so quickly. Maintaining balance is key and he throws me off kilter. If things don’t work out, I am on my own, I need to be in control. To drive my life. I cannot be absorbed into his world. I will surely lose myself and become my nightmare and his
former
. How long can this work before the curtain is ripped back, exposing me for a fraud, for a hypocrite, engulfed in artificial bliss and sexual heroin? The bile rises in my throat at the thought, and at how quickly my mind spins out of control. I tap the keyboard to wake the computer that Rhys so graciously donated in hopes of distracting myself. The screen springs to life with a black and white photo, large and strikingly focused, the tight curve and dramatic shadow of a woman’s hip sways across the screen, a cross section of dark and light. Folders pop up around the perimeter of the screen, and a window opens with what looks like Rhys’ email. I do not want to read his email. But, damn if her name doesn’t just jump off the screen and stab me in the heart when I think of the lengths I have gone to, to convince Rhys, and myself, that I am not wildly insecure about her. It is a lie, as I stare at her name in his inbox, I hate her, there needs to be a new word for hate, I loathe her. I do not want to read whatever melodious bile she writes to Rhys, rehashing the past or desperately clinging to him out of spite. My hands hover over the keyboard. I move the cursor to close the window, banish her from the screen, when I hear Rhys.

              “Where are you, Beautiful? I am a starving man, come feed me, woman!” Pleasure licks at my spine, and I close my eyes to absorb every last drop. He walks into the room and I melt a little. Bending down over me, he gives me a long, soft kiss, running his tongue along my lips, ringing in my head like a bell choir.

              “I was just going to check my email when an email popped up for you from Nadja.” I push the laptop towards him and hop from the bed heading to the bathroom to give him privacy. He plops down on the bed and pulls the computer into his lap.

              “Did you read these?” he calls, a slight edge in his tone.

              “No way, I wouldn’t do that. Why? What does she want?” I walk back into the room and stare into his dark, hollow eyes. I want to know why she is emailing him, what she is saying. But I don’t want him to know that, I don’t really want to admit it to myself. The color has drained from his face.

              “To drive you away,” he murmurs, barely audible.

              “Well, she can’t.” I sidle up behind him and wrap my arms around his neck. Looking down into his inbox there are several messages from her now, all labeled with similar titles, RNM, RNC, RNH, NSR, RNZ, RNDC, RNKA, NWR, nine in all. What the fuck is she doing? “You want me here, right?” I tease, squeezing him closer to me, tamping down the ever growing knot of jealousy that is settling in my belly.

              “Yes, more than anything,” he rushes, the panic palpable now.

              “Well then, she can’t possibly hurt us. Just open it, see what she has to say.” I reach down and double tap the cursor.

              “Wait, Sophie! No!” But it is too late, my fingers have done the damage. I feel the color run from my face as a grainy video pops up. Staring back at me is a woman with a ball in her mouth, held too tightly by a menacing leather strap, hovering on all fours. Another woman dressed in stockings and heels towers behind her and hits her, hard, with a long riding crop. A man’s well shaped legs enter the shot and he moves behind her. She is panting, excited even, her face alight with anticipation. Melissa. Her dark eyes sparkle with that ego I saw in Miami as she stares into the camera, waiting. My stomach drops to the floor and my eyes are wide with fear for her, for me, as he moves to his knees behind her and fixes to slide his impressive cock into her quivering body.  He sinks into her, lifts his head and looks dead at the camera. I am staring into eyes that make my heart stop. Everything comes crashing down.
Damn it! I
wish I
had never seen that, I did not want to see that.
I take a deep breath and hope for steady, but it does not come easy. I do not know what to do with this information. It is playing on a loop, stuck behind my eyes, and Rhys just watches me. I think I’m going to be sick. I push away from him and jump from the bed, ready to strike.

              He sits, stone still, silent and pale as a ghost. I stand and watch him for what feels like forever. I watch him, like watching a monkey at the zoo. Waiting for them to screech, or make a face, or move. Dance monkey! But he remains a stone. I cannot even tell if he is breathing he is so stiff, he is motionless, and seemingly emotionless.

              “Say something, Rhys.” I shiver at the quiet menace in my own voice. “Say something before my mind runs away.” My voice gets softer and softer as my blood pounds louder in my ears. I do not have the tools to deal with this, I do not even know how I feel. I feel sick, but surely that is because of Nadja. Everything she does makes me feel nuts, did she do this on purpose? Of course she did! She warned me not to underestimate her. And that was Melissa. What the hell? Everything about her makes more sense, she warned me too. No wonder she was such a bitch. I look up to find a still silent Rhys, gripping the now closed laptop with white knuckles, all the color drained from his face. Fuck.

              “Sophie.” His voice crackles with pain when he finally finds his voice and I almost feel bad for him. But in that moment, when his lips move around my name, all I feel is white hot anger. He is a snake charmer and I am a fool. Every twist and turn has an excuse, and every time I accept whatever it may be. Charmed by his snake, his magic, I forget myself. He steps to the middle of the room and I move to get around him, knowing I have little capacity to withstand his touch. I back away from him and watch the gravity of the situation move across his eyes, a shadow of disbelief, and blooming frustration.

              “Please! Don’t.” It starts as a booming yell, but ends in a whimper. I cannot rectify what I just saw, cannot shake it off. I back away from him.

              “Sophie.” His tone is quiet, addressing a frightened babe. “I am sorry that you had to see that. I am sorry about everything. But, please. Let me explain. I told you she was trying to drive you way.” I shake my head violently, knowing that he will spin it all and I am clearly so foolish when it comes to him, so blind. I am unwilling to hear anything. I cannot bear the sound of his voice. I shake my head.

“She knew what she was doing, Sophie. Please don’t let her win. What you saw is my past. That is from almost two years ago, Sophie.”

              “Shhhh!” I hiss at him. “Please, stop.” My ears burn, when I close my eyes my mind burns. There is no escape, no going back. Gripping my arms, he pulls me closer, winding his hand around my neck, immobilizing me with just his hand, forcing me to look into those eyes. “Of course she knew. She warned me.”

              “What do you mean she
warned
you? What are you talking about, Sophie? You said that you didn’t speak with her.”

              “Well, I did OK! I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of your attention. I didn’t want her to ruin our day, so much for that!” I back away from him, out of his reach.

              “I don’t want this, Sophie. Not like this.”

              “Please. Don’t touch me like that, not now. I can’t take it.” I push against his stone chest, knowing it could kill me. His strong hand wound about my neck, cradling my head, I will surely melt, or break. My heart is being strangled, squeezed within an inch of life. I can hardly catch my breath or stand still. Tears well in my eyes, I am drowning from within. A sob so deep it climbs from my toes threatens the cool silence between us, but I bite it back, a small bead of blood growing inside my bottom lip. I push past him and walk from the room with him just at my heels.

              “Please, don’t leave.” He grabs his keys from the counter quickly snapping them into his palm. “Please don’t leave,” he insists, “I will go. I will give you space, but please don’t leave.” I just shake my head at him, barely holding it together, my arms wrapped so tightly across my chest. He backs into the hallway and pleads again, a last ditch whisper. “Please, don’t leave.” I close the door on Rhys’ fallen face and the man who knows me best, the man I thought I knew. My heart is shattered, my legs no longer able to support the weight I have thrust upon them. My heavy, wounded heart pushes me down, I slide against the door, holding my back rigid, the floor stopping me from sinking into oblivion. The growing sob lodged in my throat finally escapes, ripping a hole in my heart, releasing the flood gates, welcoming the dark.

                                                                                                                              ***

              A loud sob erupts from her chest the moment she closes the door and I am a pillar, trapped on the spot, unable to walk away from her when she is in such pain. Like an immovable stone, I stand on the other side of the door and listen to her sink to the floor and cry. Her pain is palpable, filling the hallway, threatening to swallow me, as it should. I am the cause of her immense pain, I am the cause, again. I sit with my back to the door, my back to hers, and wait. For never ending moments, pain filled sobs are torn from her chest, full of heavy sorrow. I have never heard a more painful sound in my life. Finally, her cries grow softer as she catches her breath and I am grateful for her steady breathing, her fading sobs. She lets out a small groan, as if reminded of what she saw. Damn it! OK, so she saw me fucking Melissa while Nadja watched. A pit of growing anger settles in my gut and my blood begins to churn with questions, and an ever evolving anger. Struck by how reckless Nadja has become, she would risk exposing herself just to keep me from being happy. Sophie’s cries stop and I press my ear to the door, trying to hear her move. A hollow thud catches my attention as her shadow moves under the door.

              “Sophie? Are you OK?” I hear her shuffle and her shadow disappears. A hysterical chuckle rattles from her throat and I can tell that she is still fighting tears.

              “Rhys, what are you doing?” Her voice is raw and broken.

              “I didn’t want to leave you.”  She shifts and I turn and press my ear to the door. Her heart tugs at me across the barrier that divides us while I listen to her breathe, growing steady and deep, weaved with a quiet whimper. When her breath catches, her waves of grief wrap around my heart threatening to strangle me, squeezing the life out of me for hurting her.

              “I’m glad you’re still here,” her hushed voice rings like a choir on high.

              “I will never walk away from you, Sophie.” Her long silence slices through me.

              “I don’t know what to do.”

              “Ok. I will sit here all day, Beautiful. Whatever you want, whatever you need. I am just so deeply sorry that you had to see that.” And I am, with every cell in my body. I wish I could take it back, but it cannot be erased or avoided.

              “I am sorry, too.” After a long pause, an uncomfortable question crosses the door. “Are there more?” Her voice is barely audible, but echoes in my head. There is more, so much more. Fear grows like a beast and erupts from my chest in a fit of regretful disclosures.

              “Sophie. I have done a lot of stupid things. It was a different time, I was a different person. Things were just, different. I don’t know what I can say.” And I have no idea what I want him to say. How do you explain that away? “I know that you probably don’t understand, but I beg of you to hear me out. I was a jerk. I have always been in control, always gotten what I wanted. And after a while that sort of spoiled indulgence makes you dark and jaded. But, with you, I have no control. The closer I get to you, the deeper I push the less control I have. I can’t remember any of those girls. Not their faces, not their names. Not since you. You wiped it all away. There is only you. You are my saving grace.”

              “Do you still want that?”

              “No! My God, Sophie. It is all in the past, where it should have stayed. She is just trying to drive you away.”

              “Good.” I hear her whisper. After a long pause, she breaks the silence. “Have you ever filmed me?”

              “No!” The strangled declaration rips from my throat. “Sophie, I would never do that to you.”

              “Why did you do it?” The small whisper shrouds the force of a harsh question. How am I supposed to answer that? We were young, jaded and utterly bored. Everything was done to the extreme, so much experimenting and debauchery. I don’t know how to answer. I fill my lungs and try to form an answer that makes sense, that will satisfy her, without hurting her.

              “I was a jerk, Sophie. It’s in a man’s best interest to hide the worst parts of himself. I never wanted you to know those parts.”

              “You can’t pick and choose, Rhys. If we are going to be together, I need to know all your parts.”

I smile to myself, knowing she is right and elated at her admission that we are together.

              “Are we together?” I ask with undisguised hope.