The Fire Walker (20 page)

I was disgusted with myself.

I'd never done something so spiteful in my entire life and I wished I could take it back. I was the nice guy. I was a protector. I wasn't some kind of sadist. Jessie had humiliated me and smashed my heart to pieces, but what I did was worse. To top things off, I didn't have the guts to apologize. Looked like we didn't deserve one another.

When the New York skyline finally appeared in the distance it was a relief. Jessie punched her address into the GPS that I hadn’t bothered to turn on since I rented the car, so I didn't have to ask her for directions. When we inevitably sat in traffic, I thought about what I was going to do next. I planed to find somewhere to crash the night, return the car and get on the next flight outta Dodge. Where to? I wasn't a hundred percent sure. Maybe I should just book a flight back to Melbourne and be done with America.

When I finally pulled up in front of an old warehouse that had been converted into apartments in a small pocket of Brooklyn, I cut the engine and sat waiting. Should I say goodbye? Should I say anything? It was probably past the time for apologies.

But, Jessie didn't move. "Come up," she said. "I have a computer you can use to book a flight. At least let me do that for you."

So, she'd figured out my plan. Wasn't half obvious.

I left my stuff locked in the back out of sight and followed her inside and up the stairs. There was no lift, so we trudged up three flights to her apartment.

Despite myself, I wondered what her place was like. If she had a roommate or lived alone in a four by two shoebox. I'd thought about it before, back in LA, wondering what CDs she had, if she had any books, what photos she had on the wall. When she unlocked the door and walked in, dumping her bag just inside, the sound echoed into the darkness and I knew it was a cavern. It had that musty smell from being locked up for the past week, so I knew she lived alone. Reluctantly, I stepped inside, eyes on the floor. I'd come this far.

The sound of keys dropping into glass echoed around the dark apartment.

"I have a parking permit to put on the dash," she said. "To stop the car from getting towed."

I grunted, not able to formulate a response. I jumped when I felt her fingers circle around mine, prying the car keys out of my hand.

"I'll be back. The laptop is on the coffee table." Before she went, she flipped the screen open, bringing it to life. "All yours."

Her eyes didn't meet mine, but she shouldn't have bothered. I didn't really want to look at her either. The front door closed behind her and I was alone in her space. It smelt like her.

The apartment was a sizeable studio. A one-room cavern that used to be a warehouse but it was more like a studio palace. I knew enough about New York to know that it was expensive. And interns didn't get paid.

At one end there was a kitchen and the other was her bed. I tried not to look there, but it was impossible. One of those square bookshelves separated the living area from the sleeping and it was crammed full of books, records and CDs. Under the window was a beat up stereo covered in various band stickers, all of them punk. The rest of the apartment was furnished with stuff that looked like it was picked up from the side of the road. A brown leather couch that had seen better days sat in the middle, clothes were crammed on racks along the wall of the 'bedroom' and a worn Turkish rug covered most of the polished concrete floors.

Banks of windows took up one whole side and were covered with heavy grey blackout curtains and the wall above was made from exposed brickwork that had been sandblasted and rendered. It was very… hipster. I guess that was Brooklyn's MO.

I looked at the clunky laptop and the obviously second hand furniture and it didn't add up. She couldn't earn that much working at a cafe, surely. I didn't have any secrets, but Jessie obviously did. All this time she'd spent trying to crawl back, trying to mend things and she still wasn't truthful? I don't know why I was so worked up about it. Maybe she just liked the vintage thrift store look. Maybe she was a closet hipster. Who the hell cared.

I ran a finger along the books on the shelf, most of them were music related. A Rolling Stones bio, that Nikki Six book, big heavy hardbacks about The Clash and the Sex Pistols. A book about Seattle grunge. Then there was a bunch of classics like Jane Austin and Franz Kafka, then what looked like an unopened copy of Twilight. After our road trip to hell, I still didn't know who she was.

The front door opened and closed, but I didn't turn around from the bookcase. I didn't know what the hell it looked like, me going through her stuff, but at least I wasn't rifling through her underwear drawer. That would've been creepy.

I listened to her move across the apartment and sweep the curtains open all the way, letting in the harsh sunlight. "Have you found anything?"

I knew she was referring to the laptop. "Haven't looked yet."

I didn't want to turn around because I'd have to look at her.

To my annoyance, she stood right next to me and pulled out a CD, handing it to me. "That was the first one I brought. I was about fourteen, I guess."

I looked down at the CD and read the title.
The Clash, Combat Rock
. "Stop," I whispered.

"Stop what?" she asked, her voice thin.

"Stop trying to fix it."

Her breathing hitched and it was all I could do not to comfort her. This whole thing was fucked up. The only thing I could think of asking her right then was the one thing I didn't want to know.

"Why did you really leave me?"

She was silent for so long I didn't think she was going to answer. I was more than ready to walk out when she said, "I was afraid."

My fists clenched at my sides. "Afraid of what? That someone could treat you with respect? That someone could have feelings for you?"

"Look at me, Dee."

"I can't."

"Look at me."

I turned my back, running a hand over my face, blood boiling. God damn fucking Jessie. She made my blood boil like the fucking lava pits of Hades.

"
Look at me
."

I spun on my heel and glared at her with the full force of my anger, but when I saw the tears falling from her eyes, something snapped. I crossed the room in three strides and pushed her back into the wall and kissed her, devouring, obliterating. My hands were in her hair, sliding along her waist, underneath her top, cupping her ass, grinding her against me. And she kissed me back just as forcefully, her fingernails biting into my neck, her tongue against mine.

I tore myself away, taking a step back, my split lip stinging, and for ages the only sound that broke the silence was our labored breathing.

"I want you, Dee." Jessie was the first one to make a move. "All of you. Every part. I don't want you to leave."

I looked into her big brown eyes and wondered if I could ever let it go. That feeling of rejection.

"What do I have to do to make this right?" Her eyes were pleading with me to say something.

"What are you afraid of?"

Her eyes widened and she sunk back against the wall.

"Answer me, Jessie," I said. "That's the only thing stopping me from walking outta here and not looking back."

"You're with the band…" she whispered. "I don't mix with the bands."

"I don't believe you."

"Dee…"

"I could have got you fired or worse," I began.

"But you didn't…"

"Because it was
real
for me."

"And it wasn't for me?" she yelled, her eyes sparkling with tears again.

"You made that clear when you
ran away
."

"You 
terrify
me, Dee." Her words cut through me like a knife. "This whole thing terrifies me. The feelings I have for you… Don't go.
Please
."

I stood there frozen to the spot, so fucking confused. I didn't want to leave, but I wanted to save myself from going through more shit. I wanted to stay and fuck her senseless and tell her that...

"I quit Galaxy. I quit to come find you."

My eyes snapped up to hers. "What?"

"I quit the label. Georgie wouldn't let me go, so I quit."

I shook my head.

"I quit my dream to find you. To win you back, don't you see?"

She was in love with me. The realization hit me so hard, I wasn't sure I knew how to breathe anymore. So, that's what this crazy thing was.

"Dee?"

Her voice snapped me out of it and I stepped into her again, covering her mouth with mine, teasing her lips with my tongue. She let out a whimper as my hands cupped her face, fingers tangling in her mousy blonde hair.

"I'm staying," I murmured between kisses and she sunk against me in relief, exhaustion, I don't know. All I knew was that I was letting the fire consume me once and for all.

"I just wanted you to see me," Jessie whispered against my lips.

Pulling back, I ran a thumb across her cheek, brushing away her tears. "I see you." A tired sigh escaped her lips. "I can be a stubborn bastard, but I see you."

"I'm sorry," she said, her hands pressing into my waist. "I'm sorry I left you."

"I know."

"It was a mistake."

"I forgive you," I said again. "I won't pretend it didn't hurt like hell, but I forgive you. I can’t fight it anymore."

Holding her like I'd wanted to ever since she knocked on that motel room door in Denver, I ran my fingers through her hair, savoring the feel of our bodes pressed together. The attraction between us was what I thought would destroy me, but it was what made us epic. It wasn't just her body and the things it could do to me that tipped the scales, it was her being. Her ability to overcome her fear and face it head on. The drive that she had towards her work. The way that she saw the little things and found beauty in them. I didn't know if she even realized how amazing she really was. How stupid was I to have fought it for so long?

"I'm sorry too," I said before I chickened out again. We'd both done shit things and she'd just taken it on the chin. An apology was the least I owed her.

"For what?"

"Last night."

She ran her hands under my shirt, her skin cool on mine. "It's okay."

"It's not. It was fucking disgusting. I shouldn't have done it."

"Forget about it." Her hands moved upwards until her thumbs grazed over my nipples.

"I can't," I whispered, brushing my lips against hers. "I want to do it again. Right this time."

Her eyes searched mine and I found myself committing every fleck of brown in hers to memory. Searing it in there forever. Her thumbs began to circle and I slid my hands from her face and pushed her jacket off her shoulders. It dropped to the floor with a dull thud, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Are you sure?" she asked, running her tongue over her bottom lip.

"I've been hard ever since you knocked on that motel room door."

Jessie hissed through her teeth and pressed into me, her tongue darting into my mouth, betraying that she'd felt the same way. I knew she had. Taking control, she pushed me back around the bookshelf towards her bed, until the backs of my shins hit the edge of the mattress. Before she could shove me down, I circled an arm around her waist and spun her around, her back flush with my chest.

"I love how you take control," she said as I pressed into her ass.

"You do this thing to me," I whispered, brushing her mousey blonde hair away from her neck.

"And what's that?" Her hands reached back, finding their way inside my jeans.

I trailed kisses along her shoulder, nipping and sucking my way up to that tender spot below her ear. "Fire."

Fingers dug into my skin.

"That's why it hurt so much."

Her body stiffened against mine, but I didn't stop.

"And that's why it feels so fucking good." I slid a hand down the front of her jeans, my fingers instantly finding her clit. She gasped, leaning back into my chest, reaching up and tugging at my hair. "What do you want?"