Someone to Love

Chapter 18 Chain Reaction

Lauren was kind enough to pick up a pizza for Cruise and me, so we don't need to worry about dinner. She thought it was awful what Blair did. She went as far as saying she was going to lay into her the next time she saw her. Of course I protested for like a second, but if Lauren is determined to kick some "white trash ass," then who am I to stop her?
After a quick shower, I wrap myself in my fuzzy Hello Kitty robe then reapply the mascara I cried off at the thought of Cruise ever wanting to marry someone as vindictive as Blair. At least he had the good sense to break it off with her. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out she's driving the entire fucking crazy train.
I try to hide the red patches all over my face with foundation in the event Cruise asks what's wrong. That run-in with his ex is the last thing I want to talk about. I'm just not ready to go there. I'm too afraid that Cruise is keeping her under the cuff because maybe deep down inside he still has feelings for her. Anyway, Cruise isn't a cheat. I can tell by the way he loves me.
By the time I make my way back to the kitchen, the pizza is cold, so I heat up a slice. My foot snags on something under the microwave stand, and I pull out the human leash I spotted the first morning I was here.
A dull laugh rattles through me at the sight of the kinky cord.
I pluck the dust bunnies off and examine it. Long red and purple straps are interwoven throughout the chain. It looks strong enough to walk an elephant.
Lavender feathers and spikes decorate the three cuffs that dangle from it. The steel collar flexes in my hand as if daring me to try it on for size.
I look into my reflection in the black glass of the window and snap it over my neck until it clicks in the back.
I guess it looks sexy, even if it does have bondage and discipline written all over it. I pluck at the collar to take it off and the latch jams. I head over to a mirror and twist it around and the buckle doesn't seem to have release mechanism.
"Crap," I whimper. Surely there's a key for this satanic contraption. I'm not going to wander through life with a leash dangling from my person. Am I? I'll get wire cutters if I have to. People get jewelry sawed off their bodies all the time. Although, this is one solid sheet of steel, and it sort of looks impervious to getting hacked off without taking my head along as a causality.
My phone vibrates, and I pick it up. It's a text from Mom.
At the airport. Andrew is picking me up. Will head straight to the bed and breakfast. See you in a little while. Can't wait!
My mother? I give the collar a hard yank, and it doesn't loosen. In fact - it just cinched a little tighter, and now it's getting difficult to breathe.
Oh my God, I'm going to asphyxiate myself. Cruise will find my body, wearing nothing but this stupid contraption and my Hello Kitty robe. Then, of course, my mother will show up in time to see that I've strangled myself with a sex toy. Just perfect.
A pair of familiar headlights flood the living room.
Cruise!
Reflexively, I jump on the couch and pull his grandmother's afghan clear up to my nose. I'm pretty sure she didn't anticipate her grandson's incompetent girlfriend needing it to hide sexual accessories.
God - Cruise is going to think I'm such an idiot. He'll probably trade me in for Blair by midnight.
"Hey, beautiful." He bursts through the door with his right hand cleverly hidden behind his back and bolts on over. An iced tail of wind follows him through the opened door. "Surprise." He reveals a giant bouquet of long-stemmed roses. They bring the entire room to life with their gorgeous tongues of crimson fire.
"Oh - I love them!" I beam with the blanket still snug to my ears. "They're perfect. Really, you shouldn't have." And I'm betting in less than a minute he'll more than agree.
He cocks his head to the side and examines me in this impractical semi-fetal position. Cruise looks resplendent with his dark coat, his pale blue shirt glowing from beneath.
"You feeling okay?" His dimples depress with concern. He looks amazingly tall from this vantage point and impossibly gorgeous, per usual.
"I feel great." And lying to Cruise makes me feel like shit. "Well, not really great." I hate this part because I'm totally going to have to do the big leash-thingy reveal.
He backtracks and shuts the door.
Cruise makes his way back, smoldering into me with a sexy as hell, rather stern expression. His chin dips. He's hedging a maniacal smile like he suspects something is up, so I play along and pull down the blanket with a false air of confidence.
"Holy shit, you started without me." His eyes grow in amazement at my sexual misadventure. And, strangely, I think I've managed to arouse him in ways I've never imagined.
"That's right." I swing the butter soft leather like I meant it all along. "Just waiting for you to catch up."
Cruise grabs a hold of the chain and gently lifts me off the couch. He reels me in and growls a laugh that echoes right down to my belly. "You do realize I have no idea where the key is." His stomach vibrates against mine as he says it.
"No idea?" I swallow hard at the thought of spending the rest of my days embellished with purple feathers.
He dips his gaze. "I see you're wearing a robe. How perceptive of you. Otherwise I'd have to cut your shirt off to undress you."
"No cutting." It speeds from me in a flurry.
Cruise licks his lips. He peels off my ode to Sanrio, leaving me naked and vulnerable, and suddenly all too aware of those cruel watts of electricity glaring down from the kitchen.
Cruise leads me across the room with the leash - slow - never taking his magnetic gaze off me. He brazenly washes over my body with his eyes as though he were a cartographer mapping out the lay of the land.
Heat rises to my face as he gives the hint of a smile. His eyes burn like gas flames, blue as the ocean. Cruise reels me in and turns me around. His warm fingers press into my waist like he were the potter and I were the clay - the perfect medium for him to indulge in, create whatever he liked out of me.
With my luck my mother will magically burst through the door. I'm sure finding her only daughter naked, in a strange man's living room, with a chain dangling from her neck is not what she's expecting. She'll most likely think I'm being held as a sex slave and call the police. The feds will haul Cruise out to a prison for the criminally insane. More like, insanely gorgeous. Regardless, I don't want to think about my mother, nor do I want to think about bitchy ex-girlfriends. Right now, Cruise Elton is doing an incredible job of arousing the hell out of me without so much as laying a finger on my flesh.
He takes up my wrists behind my back and binds them with one of the stray leather straps. I guess he's forgoing the cuffs since we're one key away from confining me to permanent restraints.
"You like this, Kenny, don't you?" It comes out low, almost chastising, and my insides throb at the sound of his voice.
He double wraps the leash around his hand before giving a swift tug.
Cruise leads me to the bedroom, and I don't resist.
It's exhilarating like this, following my scorching hot boyfriend through the dimly lit hall, my hands tethered behind my back while at his complete sexual mercy.
Cruise flips on the lights to the bedroom with a demonic grin blooming on his face.
"No lights." I have a feeling it could never be dark enough for what Cruise is about to do to me - and with my wrists bound together, I can only hope he'll listen.
"Lights." He kisses the nape of my neck, and my body trembles for more.
"Is it your birthday?" I slather on the sarcasm. "Because unless it's your birthday, or a red-letter holiday, I'm pretty sure I'm not entertaining you with my pale ass." There, I said it.
He pushes a gentle laugh into the back of my neck. "You have the body of a goddess. I want to look at you." He leans in close to my ear, and I can feel his erratic breathing as it creates a fire line down my back. "You're the one being dominated, Kenny. You don't have a choice." He cinches the leashes until my hands are drawn tight and walks me to the bed. I try to take a seat, but he's quick to lift me to my feet.
Cruise pulls his cheek back with a smoldering look of seduction. His brows dip in a V, revealing the sinister intent brewing behind those blue topaz lenses.
Every intimate part of me is quivering, cheering on my newfound carnal revolution, and now here I am, standing in front of the god of Garrison in the exact amount of clothing I was born in.
"Down," he instructs.
I get on my knees, and he pulls my head back. Instinctively, I know this is going to hurt, and I want it to. I want to feel everything Cruise has to offer - all that he's willing to thrust my way.
He steps into me and unbuttons his jeans. He flicks at his zipper and gives the impression of a wicked grin.
"With your teeth," he commands.
And I do.
Cruise launches toward me, smooth and hard. I take him up in my mouth and feel a groan echo throughout his body. My lips move over his heated skin with my tongue pulling long strokes in obedience to his movements. He takes in a ragged breath, his body bowed back with pleasure. His fingers rake through my hair. His hips beg to sway with ecstasy, but I've bound him just like he's bound me.
Cruise and I were awakening in one another a new dimension of vulnerability - of trust. This dark corner of fantasy still holds the underpinnings of our affection, the lust inside us detonating on a cellular level. Cruise brought the gunpowder and I brought the matches. We're varnishing a new layer of intimacy over our relationship as the room burns around us. This invisible fire rages through us - exhilarating, as if we had harnessed a chariot and rode through the sun.
Cruise carefully pulls me up to him long before he trembles to completion.
"Bend over." He rasps it out as a simple demand, and I relax into him, already lost in a sensual haze. "Bend over." He says it curt this time, a nefarious smile hedging on his lips. It comes out a strict order that might have consequences attached if I don't comply, so I lie over the bed and feel the cool of the comforter glide against my chest, my stomach retracts from its touch.
Cruise gently kicks out my feet until my legs are amply parted, and suddenly I'm regretting ever laying eyes on these demented chains. I imagine what I must look like with my body splayed out like this, him hovering from above with an eagle eye view, and I feel vulnerable - far more so than simply being naked could ever provide.
Cruise slides his heated hands over my back, down my bare bottom, and between my thighs. He glides a finger in and out of my body as I writhe over the bed, leaving me uncontrollably aroused.
"I'm going to make you come, Kenny." He says it plain, as a fact. "What do you think about that?" He runs his thumb over the delicate folds and enlivens my pleasure points until my throat constricts.
He leans in with his searing hot skin raking up against my thigh. He runs the pad of his fingers softly over me before plunging in again with dynamic force.
"Do you want more?" His voice rumbles through me. It echoes through my bones as my body waits for that very thing.
I let out a breath, unable to answer.
Cruise spins out delicious circles over me until my breathing grows erratic. With every writhing movement, he tightens the reins just enough until I let out a cry, and my body spasms uncontrollably. I spiral into a beautiful delirium that I never want to end. I try to cinch my legs, but he blocks me with his knees. Cruise guides his body into mine with a violent force that sends me choking for air. My mouth rakes against the bed from the brilliant shock of pleasure. He thrust inside me, over and over, pulling me back by the chain until my back arches into him. He slides his hand down over me again, and I explode, this time with Cruise - the two of us lost in ecstasy, perfectly in sync. He collapses over me, shaking and trembling, pressing himself in deeper until his breathing is restored.
Cruise rolls next to me. His eyes shine like glass as he pulls me in.
"You're a little vixen, you know that?" He seals the sentiment with a careful kiss that dissolves any doubt that Blair may have tried to plant.
A loud knock explodes over the front door, and a familiar female voice calls out my name.
"Who the hell is that?" Cruise glances in the direction of the chaos with a slight look of alarm.
"I believe that is my mother."
Cruise
"Your mother?" I glance down at Kenny, locked in chains, looking more sex slave than angelic daughter. I send a 911 text to Molly to retrieve Kenny's mom and walk her over to the big house while I try to unleash her daughter from her self-imposed stocks and chains.
We make our way to the kitchen table as I work at freeing her from the device.
"Nice," I say, unhinging the last of the leashes from around the collar with a set of needle nose pliers. "And that's all I can do."
"What am I supposed to tell my mom?" She clasps at the metal necklace still latched around her neck. Kenny looks pretty hot with a heavy metal choker, but I'm sure now's not the time to point that out.
"Tell her it's a fad." I give a bleak smile. "Or wear a turtleneck. I have one you can borrow."
Kenny is wrapped in a towel and barefoot. She's got a row of spikes encircling her neck, and my cock is ticking back to life at the sight of her. If it weren't for the unexpected company, I wouldn't resist the effort.
"I'll look ridiculous in a turtleneck." She chews on her lip. "Besides, she'll grow suspicious if I try to hide it. I need to work it." She speeds off to the bedroom to presumably pull off the miracle of "working it," and I make use of myself by putting the flowers I bought in a vase.
I take a breather as I wait for the water to fill. Outside the kitchen window, a three-quarter moon spreads its light over the snowy world. I think back to the fairytales I used to read to Molly. The princes and the princesses. Kenny is the princess in my fairytale. Although, it's a slightly sadomasochistic fairytale at the moment. And fairytales always have a happy ending - not even Blair can ruin that. They also come complete with a witch, and I think I've just discovered Blair's new role in my life. Let's hope that bucket of truth I doused her with evaporates her to nothing.
Kenny steps back in the room wearing a low cut sweater, jeans, and the boots I gifted her with. Her dark hair frames her face, and the spiked cuff around her neck looks a lot more costume jewelry and a lot less obscene paraphernalia.
"Well done." I wrap my arms around her, still amped from that heated exchange. "Does your mom know about us?"
"Not yet." She pulls her lips to the side. "I'll let her know we're dating, but maybe I should ease her into the engagement. I'd hate to kill her on her first night here."
"Fair enough." I narrow into her with a devilish grin. "Whips and chains - good or great?"
Kenny bites down a smile and pulls me in. "Spectacular."
Kenny and I walk through the dark night and into the bed and breakfast at the top of the property. Mom is already settled at the dining room table with a woman who I presume is Kenny's mother, and my eyes have to readjust a moment as I spot my father seated beside her.
"Dad?" I'm dazed seeing him here in my childhood home without my mother shouting at him at the top of her lungs for child support.
Molly enters the room with a pot roast and potatoes as if she were about to break out an entire Thanksgiving dinner.
"Dad?" Kenny's mother touches her hand to her chest. "Oh my God, is this Pennington?" She leaps to her feet and engulfs both Kenny and me in an all-encompassing hug. She has the same dark hair as Kenny, although short, and her eyes are a honeyed brown.
"Nope - not Pen," I say, pulling back. "Cruise Elton." I offer her a hand, and she gives a light shake, unsure of what to make of me.
"This is my oldest." Dad pipes up and something warms in me. I'm not sure I've ever been introduced as his offspring before. "Kendall, nice to see you again." He offers her an embrace and slaps me on the back for good measure.
"Oh my goodness!" Her mouth rounds out with surprise. "Little Cruisy! I'm so sorry I didn't put two and two together. I'm Karen. So nice to meet you." She looks to Mom and closes her eyes a moment. "And, you're Samantha! What a small world."
"Just Sam." Mom winks as everyone finds a seat.
"Kendall?" Her mother makes a face that suggests she should explain a few things.
"Oh..." Kenny swallows hard before taking a seat next to me. "Cruise and I are...um just friends."
Friends? I'm not sure I was expecting my demotion to sink so low.
"Now, now - don't be shy," Mom sings like a canary. "These two are indivisible with injustice for all." She gives a hoot into her wine. Just the thought of what might come next, makes me want to crawl under the table and bring Kenny with me. "You can practically see the steam rising out of the guest house the way they parade around."
Nice touch.
I glance over at Kenny with an apology written across the disgruntled look on my face.
Her cheeks have entered tomato territory, but it's her lusciously swollen lips, the perfect curves hedging out of her sweater that make me want to whisk her away from here in the event my mother has another live grenade stashed in her arsenal. Who knew Kenny would need protecting from my mother, of all people.
"Parade around?" Karen shoots a look to Kenny. She looks more amused than angry, although to be fair, I don't know her. She could be on the cusp of a full-on rage for all I know.
"Come clean, Kenny." Molly joins in on the fun as she turns her attention to Kenny's mother. "She told me a few weeks back I'm gonna be an aunt."
A collective gasp circles the table - Kenny's being the most dramatic.
Fuck. Leave it to Mom and Molly to tag team Kenny in front of her poor, unsuspecting mother. I wouldn't be surprised if they hopped the next plane to L.A. after this fiasco.
"So not true." Kenny spits it out with venom aimed right at Mol. "Nobody is going to be an aunt." She gives a nervous laugh to her mother.
How the hell does Molly know about that?
Mom clears her throat. "Excuse my daughter. She's prone to exaggeration. They are not having a baby. Isn't that right?" She looks to the two of us, and we deny the bullshit Molly decided to confetti the table with. "They're simply engaged."
"Kendall!" Karen's face lights up like a flare.
Shit.
It looks like my mother and sister have managed to inflict both Jordan women with third degree facial burns. Although, according to Kenny, her mother has long since bypassed the Jordan phase of her life.
I look to Kenny, urging her to deny it if she wants to. She certainly has the opportunity. In the least she could back pedal and say we're dating, but doesn't. Instead, she sits there with indistinguishable choking sounds emitting from her throat, reminiscent of earlier this evening. A severe flashback of Kenny writhing over the bed sears through my mind. Not even the fact both our mothers are in the room has the power to kill that fantasy come to life from replaying itself in real time.
I doubt I'll be fessing up to the fact I've never used that "leash" before. That it was a gift from Cal of all people. He gave it to me as a gag gift on my birthday the week before Kenny arrived. He's been living vicariously through my sexual renaissance from the beginning. It was his way of outfitting me to live out every one of his warped fantasies. Although, in hindsight, this one wasn't all that warped. It was fan-fucking-tastic, and for damn sure I won't be sharing any of those details with Cal.
"So it's true?" Her mother looks from me to her.
"Looks like congratulations are in order." Dad puts on his bartending hat and pours us each a much-needed glass of wine, Molly included, and she guzzles it down before any kind of toast has a chance to commence. "To young love." Dad raises his glass while looking directly at Kenny's poor unsuspecting mother. "May we never forget the bittersweet fruit of its vine."
We? Bittersweet?
Karen raises her glass, and they exchange sad smiles with the pretense of joy. I get the feeling Dad was a player long before I ever walked onto the field.
Dinner goes off mostly without a hitch, other than the fact Molly's cooking leaves something to be desired. The food is cold and flavorless, much like the relationship I've had with my father these past twenty-four years. I'm open to seeing that change, though. Kenny scraped clean all of the sludge that once lingered inside me.
"So, have you thought about a wedding?" Mom asks, stoking the flames.
"I'm sure they're not at that stage yet." Karen shoots a look to Kenny that suggests we'd better not be. She moves her attention to me, cold and steely. "Cruise? How do you plan on supporting my daughter?"
"Supporting?" Kenny scoffs. "I'm sorry this isn't nineteen fifty-five. Cruise doesn't have to support me at all."
Kenny shoots me an apologetic look, most likely because I have been supporting her, and I really don't mind. Soon I'll make her my wife and the mind-blowing sex won't feel like such a tradeoff for room and board.
"I'm a graduate student," I interject. "I'll be working on my doctorate in the fall. I've been granted a fellowship and am currently in the middle of a teaching internship." Why does it feel like I've just spewed out an interview for some tame boardroom position? More like bedroom, and being with Kenny is anything but tame as evidenced by the shiny metal choker cuffed around her neck.
Dad places his hand over my shoulder and gives a slight jostle. "A fellowship? That's fantastic. I'm so proud of you, son."
Son? He's going for the gold tonight.
"So the wedding..." Karen drives us back to the subject at hand, and surprisingly she turns to my father. "We'll finally be family." She looks up at him with a startled smile as if she had always wanted to be "family" with my father. I'm feeling rather lucky this matrimonial mix-up didn't happen years ago because I would awkwardly, yet willingly, be fucking my stepsister.
I give a sly grin at the idea.
"We've always been family." He counters. "Would you like to take a walk?"
"I would love to." Karen rises hypnotically, and they head toward the entry.
"What the hell was that about?" Molly snipes. She's not one to be dragged off into the arena of the awkward, willingly. Her eyelashes are crusted over with mascara, and she's got on way too much war paint in general. I would like to know what the hell that is about.
"They had this thing." Mom swipes the air like it's no big deal.
"What thing?" Kenny's eyes and breasts both manage to provide a three-D spectacle. Not that I mind.
"They dated," Mom whispers. "It was long after he and I disconnected. They were hot and heavy for a good long while, and then all of a sudden she took off to California, and he was with Jackie."
"Bet he cheated on her." Molly huffs. "Guys are assholes."
"Mind your P's and Q's." Mom swats her on the arm. "And what's this wine guzzling business?" She swipes the glass out of her reach. Not that it matters. It's long since been drained.
"Cruise isn't a cheat." Kenny picks up my hand and holds it to her chest as if I were a life raft.
"Cruise is an open cheat," Molly corrects. "He sleeps around because his dick suffers from the need to be strangled nightly."
"Molly," I bark at her. All that talk about her needing a father figure filters through my mind, and I'm moved to bolt her in her bedroom for the next four solid years as a tribute to good parenting.
"You think you're so perfect," she shouts back. "You and that little hoe you're shacking up with, when just a year ago you were peddling the fine art of abstinence and taking me shopping for purity rings. Boy, you sure stomped out that bag of 'chastity' shit like it was on fire."
"You can go now," I say it low because if I raise my voice I might lose it and flip the damn table over to keep her from babbling like an idiot.
"I will go." She rises. "Just know I happen to respect your new girlfriend more than you because at least she's honest and cool. Instead of trying to buy me a wedding ring for Jesus, she took me to the free clinic and got me on the pill." She tosses down her napkin and bolts from the room.
"What!" Mom snatches at her crutches before hobbling after my apparently sexually promiscuous sister.
"I'm so sorry." Kenny reaches over and lays her hand on my arm to soothe me.
"Don't be. Molly has spun her last fucking lie - "
"I can explain everything." Kenny blurts it out before I can finish.
I freeze a moment. Kenny wouldn't take Molly to any free clinic and put her on the pill.
Kenny's eyes elongate. She sucks her cheeks in as if alluding otherwise.
Oh shit.
"Does this have something to do with the fact she thought she was going to be an aunt?" I ask, but she doesn't say anything. "Kenny?"
"Um..." She touches her hand to her chest just the way her mother did when she was nervous. "It was sort of an accident. She's a lying little..." Her fingers fly to her lips. "I mean, I'm sure she's a nice person once you get to know her. It's just that I haven't really seen that side of her yet."
I start in on a slow, sober laugh.
My father has a very obvious hard-on for Kenny's mother, my sister is having sex with prepubescent boys, and it was Kenny, of all people, she manipulated into helping her get on the pill. Shit.
I stand and pull Kenny into my arms.
"My family is completely insane." A smile breaks loose on my lips as I take in the inordinate amount of beauty God saw fit to gift her with both inside and out. I lean in and crash my lips against hers until my body stirs to have her in all four corners of this oversized house.
A soft bubble of laughter gets caught in her throat. "Sounds like we might be related."
"Maybe sooner than you think," I say. "Last fall, Jackie and my dad filed for divorce. They're just buying time under the same roof."
She sucks in breath. "That's terrible!"
I nod in agreement. "So there's nothing else you want to tell me? Any baby news? Any more rides to the free clinic?"
Her mouth opens then quickly closes.
"I'm not keeping a single thing from you," she whispers as her face lights up like a Christmas tree.
And deep inside, I wonder if she is.
On Saturday night, Tri Delta is having a party. Kenny asked me to join her, but I assured her I'd be okay at home, working on my thesis. Besides, she mentioned Lauren asked her to do her a favor, and I didn't want to get in the way of a girls night out. But as soon as she left, I felt the vacuum in the room. Kenny takes the air, the life all with her. I can't stop thinking about all those amped up frat boys attacking her like a group of hormone happy bears, so here I am, ready to cross the threshold into debauchery.
Tri Delta brims with mostly female bodies. Back in my scrotum-slinging days, this would have been an estrogen-laced paradise. For sure this is a much bigger venue and far more popular than the party Pen threw at Sigma Phi the night Kenny arrived. This time, all of Garrison decided to show. Although, in Pen's defense, it was Christmas break, and most people had flown home for the holiday. I'm glad things worked in reverse for Kenny - those Christmas kisses were the best gift ever.
A bevy of scantily clad co-eds fills the room, each displaying a unique level of undress. Bra straps seem to be the order of the day, skinny jeans so tight they look like they might need to be peeled off - complete with G-strings spiking out the back, showing off whale tails of various shapes and sizes.
A bubbly coed dips her hand into the back of my jeans, and I take a giant step forward, only to have a brunette press her pillowy chest against mine. Her lips come into my face at Mach five and I'm quick to step away.
"Whoa, ladies." I hold up my hands and make a break for the nearest wall, otherwise known as the observation zone.
I pan the room for Kenny. As soon as I spot her, I plan on making a beeline over. I have every intention of hitting on the most beautiful girl in the room. And if I'm lucky, maybe she'll let me haul her upstairs and offer her another private "lesson."
I'm sure she's been swallowed alive in a sea of testosterone by now.
Off to my right, a group of guys play beer pong. I hike a leg against the wall and watch as they toss a plastic ball at a mass of red solos.
The object of coming to one of these events is to get laid. If they have any inclination to unzip their pants, for reasons other than urination, then isolating themselves is going about it the wrong way. At least invite some girls to play. Amateurs.
"Hey, handsome." Blair springs up like an apparition. Her hair is pulled back so tight she looks ghastly. "Tall, dark, and lonely tonight?
"Just looking for Kenny."
She makes a face. "Oh, I bet right about now she's hooking up with some poor, unfortunate soul - ready and willing to bless 'em with that body."
"In your dreams." I try to make my escape, but she yanks me back by the shirt.
"So why the big mystery?" Her dark eyes slit to nothing. "I would assume if you're so close to Kenny, you'd at least mention the fact you had an ex-fiancee. Or maybe it's not me you're hiding from her. Maybe you're just embarrassed by who you used to be."
I look right at her, and it feels like I'm seeing her for the very first time. The way her jowls protrude, her red lips are drawn in like a slash as if someone lanced her face.
"Embarrassed?" I balk. "About what? The fact we met in youth group and decided to save ourselves for that magical someday, until you decided to feed the masses with your body? Guess what, Blair? I finally figured it out. You did me a favor. Without your insatiable desire to cram as many dicks inside you, I would've never met someone amazing who I actually fell in love with and who treats me with a level of respect I never knew possible."
Blair's features harden. Her eyes gloss over with tears, red as Tabasco.
"She's upstairs, probably screwing some guy - or girl," she hisses. "She doesn't seem too picky. Hope you have a fantastic unhappily ever after." Blair hits the door and disappears like a phantom.
Upstairs? Probably just some device to land me near a mattress. I take the stairs two by two and open and shut doors at random.
I make my way farther down the hall until the noise from the party is quickly replaced with deafening silence. Voices murmur from behind the walls of an adjacent room - a guy and a girl. The door is cracked open, so I peer inside.
A familiar mane of dark hair stands before a tall, very bald douchebag.
There they are, Kenny and Cal.
"It could just be this one time," she purrs, running her hand down his shirt. Her fingers work on unbuttoning his jeans, and my chest constricts at the sight. Kenny just threw a brick at my heart. "I won't tell if you won't," she coos.
I lean up against the wall and try to catch my breath. Kenny giggles from the other side, and her voice drills through me.
The sound of her laughter chisels down a toxic brand of misery right through to my bones, and I get the hell out of Dodge.
Late the next morning, I make breakfast for Kenny while she's still sleeping - eggs and bacon, toast with strawberry jam, her favorite, and I'm heavy with agony every step of the way.
I glance out the kitchen window at the grey corrosive sky - all rust and iron locked in hurt and disbelief much like my heart.
Fresh air seems mandatory to clear my head out of this gutter of despair I've landed in. I grab a pen, and my hand trembles as I leave her a note.
Going for a walk, be right back. I scrawl it on a napkin quick as possible - afraid if I stall, my true feelings might bleed out.
It's almost afternoon, and she's still knocked out. She didn't get in until three. I kept hoping she'd come to my room and ask why I was in my own bed, but she didn't. Not sure what I would have said if she did. I just laid there all night, wide awake, wondering how the hell my heart wound up crushed under the sole of her pretty little foot.
I guess Blair was right - Blair who was the first to gouge my heart out, or so I thought. The misery Blair caused was nothing in comparison to the utter desolation that set in after hearing - seeing Kenny in action with my own freaking eyes.
But I know she loves me. You can't fake emotion like that. Can you?
I head outside and a crisp breeze knifes through my clothes in cold steely jags.
The late February sky holds a stainless shade of grey as if someone were about to place a lid over Carrington, cover us up for good and a part me wishes they would. The pines still manage to cast detailed shadows over the snow in blues and lavenders, deep navy, dark as night. The strong scented evergreens light up the air, fresh and cleansing.
My phone goes off just as I arrive at the stream. It's a number I don't recognize, but I stop to take the call before I hit a dead zone.
"Hello?"
"Cruise? I'm so sorry to bother you. It's Rayann, Blair's mother."
Every muscle in my body tenses as my bloodstream fills with concrete. What if Blair hurled herself off a cliff? Or what if she stuffed a bottle of pills in her stomach? I'm sure there would be hell to pay, and undoubtedly it would start and end with me.
"Nice to hear from you." I manage to fake the kind sentiment. "What's going on?"
"It's Blair." She wails when she says her name. "She's been such a mess. She doesn't eat anymore. All she does is mope about how she ruined things between the two of you. Is there any way you could talk to her? Maybe you could take her to dinner and get this whole thing straightened out." Her voice rises with hope. "You do know that Stan and I think of you like a son. People make mistakes, Cruise - big ones. I really pray you'll find it in your heart to forgive her."
I blow out a hard breath.
Is that where this is headed? Can anyone really expect me to walk away from something so fantastic with Kenny and step back into a dead relationship with Blair again?
"I'm sorry she's having a tough time." I do mean that. Blair and I weren't always riding on the crap wagon. "I really hope the best for her, but I'm pretty sure what we had is long over."
We exchange niceties before hanging up, and I mute the damn phone.
Dad waves from the porch before making his way over - so much for time to think. On second thought, it's probably best I don't.
"Morning." He says with an ear-to-ear grin, and I'm almost afraid to ask why he's so ungodly jubilant. It looks like one of us got lucky with a Jordan woman last night and it sure as hell wasn't me. "Mind if I join you?"
I look up at my father in this new light, the older gentleman with graying hair, the newly-minted playboy - the friend.
"Not at all." I lead us to a bench overlooking the stream that braids itself through the property, quiet as a yawn. My grandfather used to tell me stories of catching trout here, but I haven't seen a fish longer than my thumb since I was thirteen. The runoff from a nearby hillside keeps it flowing straight through winter. I used to come out here after the Blair debacle, then Kenny brought me a moment of peace, and here I am again.
"You have an upsetting call?" He points to the phone still cradled in my hand. He's wearing a pair of jeans, which is unusual for him, and a baseball cap of mine that Mom must have lent him. We resemble each other enough for me to know what I'll look like in about twenty years - that is if I eat like hell and forget the directions to the gym.
"Blair's mother." I rattle the phone before diving it into my pocket. "She's trying to play matchmaker. I'm sure Blair put her up to it."
"You ever think of getting back together?" He winces when he says it. The flesh on his face looks thicker than I remember as a child. A smile is permanently embedded in the lines beneath his eyes. "It's never too late to make things right."
"Never is the operative word. Let's just say I've been given a reprieve. A dying man doesn't run back to the guillotine."
He lets out a warm laugh straight from his belly, and it feels good to be out here with him, sharing a moment, even if it is a pretty crappy moment for me. Not that I plan on highlighting the heartache I'm having with Kenny anytime soon.
"I had a relationship once that I let go of too soon," he starts. "Never forgot her. Thought about her every day of my life after I let her walk through that door." His gaze softens over mine.
I have a feeling I know exactly who he let walk out that door, and I'll be damned if I'm going to follow in his footsteps.
I'm going to fight for Kenny.
I just hope there's something to fight for in her eyes.