Freedom (34 page)

My arm and hand keep her propped up while my other hand greedily touches her wherever it can, including the sensitive spot buried in her wet, silky flesh. I do everything to elicit a moan from her while she wriggles and arches into me, and I want to profess my love to her, which is something stupid I can see myself doing while we are all hot and bothered over each other. Instead, I say nothing and focus on pushing my tongue and cock into her more to draw out those arousing sounds she makes.

I feel her muscles tightening around me and she whimpers with pleasure, setting off my own shattering climax. I come fast and keep grinding into her, aware that her t-shirt is pushed up and exposing her soft skin to the rough tree bark. She doesn’t complain as I continue to batter her against the harsh surface until I am depleted.

As she pulls her mouth from mine and we gulp for air as if we haven’t breathed in hours, my head collapses against hers as I take in long, ragged breaths. I feel her arms circle my waist and her hands put pressure on my back as if to reassure me. Being with her is more than comforting; we fuel each other with sustenance. Living apart from one another is not an option. Ever.

“If I said I didn’t mean to do that, it would be a lie,” I say, out of breath.

“How could you not want to do this? I wanted it. But I think I may need some Bactine for my back. The tree was not kind to my skin.” She lets loose a nervous giggle.

“I think a mosquito bit my ass,” I quip and laugh with her.

“As long as we don’t need tetanus shots.”

She dresses and brushes the leaves and twigs off my t-shirt.

“Dylan, I heard what you said to Robert.”

I think she is referring to my fist hitting his face and declaring that I am the only lunatic allowed in her life—the only man that loves her. That was a memorable speech. Since she was ready to leave with Cooper, it didn’t occur to me that she heard a single word of my hysterical admissions for her and the accusations towards Robert.

“You’re not a lunatic,” she says emphatically and then turns to take the route back to the car.

Twenty-Six

Emma

When we arrive back at the hotel room, Cooper is there with a huge stash of food from McDonalds spread out on the desk. The whole room smells like French fries. It is a fatty, carb heaven.

“Yum,” I say.

Dylan is less polite with Cooper’s intrusion.

“I should have known you had your own key. Jesus, the place reeks. Emma is a vegetarian—”

“I would love some fries,” I say, cutting Dylan off. “Really, I’m starved.” I sit down on the bed and shove a wad of greasy, salty fries in my mouth.

“I was going to order you a real meal,” Dylan says, watching me devour the fries.

“Where the hell were you two? I told you to stay put,” Cooper says between mouthfuls of his burger.

“Oh, fuck that.” Dylan is still watching me as though he can’t believe that, after our intense sex scene—where I was loving his body—I can switch gears to where I am loving French fries. “We needed to get outside, and stop making it sound like we’re being hunted. No one is after us.”

“I promised Carson to keep you two safe. I never said you’re being hunted. You need to see this,” Cooper responds, polishing off the last bite of a Big Mac.

Cooper gets up, wipes his greasy fingers on a napkin and then turns on the TV. He flips through several cable channels, hitting the news stations all showing the same video of several men being escorted by police and FBI. It’s the infamous perp walk, and front and center, is my father, Daniel Keller. I recognize his lawyer, Larry, alongside him. My father has his hands in cuffs as he walks towards the courthouse, surrounded by every media outlet in the tri-state area. The star of the clip is Vinnie Marchetto, who is twenty feet ahead of my father with his own entourage.

I immediately drop the bag of fries, walk into the bathroom and throw up. Dylan races in and murmurs something benign and soothing as he rubs my back and holds my hair up as I violently wretch into the toilet. When it seems nothing is left inside of me, I dry heave while Dylan holds my waist.

“Do you want to go visit him?” he asks, meaning my father, of course. The man who betrayed my mother and me. “Maybe it will help to see him in person.”

“In an orange jumpsuit with bullet-proof glass between us? I’ll pass,” I respond, wiping my lips with a tissue before I rinse my mouth out with toothpaste. “I’m done paying for his sins. I’m done with him.”

Dylan hands me a towel after I wash my face then catches my jaw with one large palm and holds me still. “What you heard me say… to Robert. I meant it.” His words are sharp and insistent. It’s ironic that he won’t repeat what he actually said.

“I have no doubt that you’re being honest,” I tell him.

His eyes wander over my face, giving me a moment to consider formulating a better response. Who wouldn’t love this man? He’s a bounty of strength and love wrapped up in a beautiful package.

“I want to go home.”

Dylan looks confused. “Jersey? To see your dad?”

“Hera. I want to go back to our home.”

“Our home,” Dylan repeats. “Let’s go home.”

If he is disappointed that I am not saying more about his confession of love, he doesn’t show it. I don’t cry over my father, and I say nothing more on the topic. Too many years have been wasted on the Marchettos.

We pack our bags, and Cooper follows us back to Hera on his Harley. Dylan floors it and tries to lose him, but Cooper is a speed demon and deft at weaving in and out of lanes to stay on our tail.

“You two are silly sometimes.” I am eager to laugh. “If you really cared about speed, you’d ride a Ducati or Kawasaki.”

“We’d rather look cool,” Dylan smiles. “Nothing is cooler than a Harley. But I’m still going to lose that prick.”

“I don’t think so. Cooper seems to anticipate your every move.”

Dylan gives me a good, long, hard look before staring back at the road ahead where it’s dark and traffic is light. We waited a few hours before leaving the hotel so we could avoid commuter traffic and to give me time to accept what has taken place today.

“We’ll be home soon.” He lifts my hand off my lap and kisses it then holds it while he shifts the gear.

“I’m suddenly so tired.”

“It’s finally hitting you, everything at once. You need to sleep, babe.”

I love the way he says that. He can spoon-feed me simple, caring words of understanding and it’s lovely coming from him. I wish we were already home and he was carrying me in his arms up to bed. I am tired of being strong and playing defense. You can only kick-ass and be tough for so long before you just want someone to bring you your slippers and a cup of hot chocolate. Curling up next to Dylan in bed is all I want right now.

Twenty-Seven

Dylan

She’s been asleep for fourteen hours.

Unfortunately, our cable started working again when we arrived home. With constant news coverage on the arrests and watching the replay of her father entering the courthouse too many times, I finally pulled the plug on the TV so Emma would pry her eyes away from it.

She took a long, hot bath in the chipped, old tub and spent most of that time staring at the wall. I had to check on her a few times because she was so quiet. I was nervous about her falling asleep and drowning. No shit. I don’t know if it’s just excessive fatigue or if she’s in shock.

She hasn’t said anything about her father or Robert since the hotel, and her mother wouldn’t take her phone calls. I thought I had it bad, but she really got screwed in the parent department.

After all of that, I held her until she fell asleep, which wasn’t long.

At first, I wasn’t sure if I would be enough for her because she is used to a family. Even the parental bickering provides a type of security blanket. But I am not Brian. I am willing to accept my strengths when I have them and ask for help when I don’t. I also know I can live without Emma, but I wouldn’t be a happy person. She is not my crutch the way I have used others before her. She is the one I love and that’s what my life needs. I realize she is still unsure if we have any staying power, however I have all the time in the world for her to figure it out. I sure as hell am not going anywhere.

This morning I leave her tangled in the sheets and comforter, deciding it is safe for me to go on a long run with a stopover at Dr. Wang’s office. I figure Emma will be out for a while and I can be home by eleven o’clock before she wakes. I need to clear my head about all of this. Working and living with Emma has been the happiest, and to an extent, the most emotional experience because I have fallen in love with her.

I remember very little about my time with Jess last summer other than complete confusion over what I was feeling. I am perfectly clear-headed with Emma, so sure of what I am doing that I want to throw my arms out and shout to the world that I’ve figured it out. There’s no mystery to me anymore about who I am meant to be with. I am turning into a gushing sap, and I have to remind myself that this is only the beginning. I have to help her deal with her father’s incarceration and we have to move on from there.

***

Dr. Wang’s expression is hard to read as I am pacing his office, sweaty and tired from my run, but I am too anxious to sit down. I have told him most of what has happened over the last week, leaving out the parts about sex or information from Cooper. I mostly relay details about working with Emma and her father’s arrest and how I am trying to help her. As I talk, he types away, glancing at his monitor and then at me.

“Can you sit down now? You’re exhausting me,” he says.

I slide into the chair in front of his desk. I rest my elbows on my knees, trying to look more relaxed, but my heel taps away loudly on the carpeted floor.

“This is a lot to take on. Last time we spoke, you were talking about living with her and keeping it platonic because you were afraid of your growing feelings for her.”

“I never said I was afraid of my feelings for her.”

“No. I did.” Dr. Wang smiles. “You told me you liked her a lot, but you weren’t in love with her. And now?”

“I’m in love with her,” I say emphatically. “Yep.”

“It sounds like it, and you two have certainly been through a lot together in such a short time. Have you told her how you feel?”

“In a way. She heard me tell her ex that I love her, but I didn’t say it directly to her. I’ve been pretty straightforward that I want to be with her, to keep living together, and I don’t want us to think of it as a temporary set-up the way it was initially.”

“So you two have skipped over that tedious dating part and you’re living together, and you’re both in love with each other, but you never talk about it.”

I sigh at how inane it sounds. “No one likes a funny doctor.”

Dr. Wang laughs.

“I’m just trying to keep the story straight. For months you brought the same news to me every week. You described your workouts, your job, complained about a few clients. You never talked about anything that made you excited. And now, you’re practically jumping out of that chair.”

“I look that bad?” I hold my jittery leg still.

“You realize there’s no right way of falling in love. Just because I told you it is okay to get out there and start dating, and it went another way for you, doesn’t mean this isn’t going to work out. Is that why you’re so nervous?”

“I keep thinking about Brian. He loved his family and he still couldn’t escape the reapers. How do I know I won’t turn out like Brian?”

“None of us can predict our futures. How do I know I won’t have an incurable cancer in five years and leave my wife a widow?”

“Well… crap… I don’t want to have to worry about you now, too.”

Dr. Wang smiles and shakes his head. “Brian was suicidal even back in high school, Dylan. You’re not and never were. He was very ill for a long time, and he was very different than you. You can’t get back into that vicious cycle of obsessing about worst-case scenarios. Have you told Emma that you think about this?”

“Not exactly. I told her about Brian’s death, and that I’m not suicidal.”

“That’s good, but you haven’t told her everything. Your fears.”

“That’s the kind of thing that makes people run away from you.”

“She’s also going through a personal trauma, and you’re helping her. You seem to be helping each other. That’s good.”

“Ah, damn,” I mumble. “Excuse me, but Doc, I don’t want to screw this up. Tell me what to do?”

Dr. Wang scribbles on his little blue notepad and hands me my prescription refill. “Dylan, you know you must call me—any time, day or night—if you are in trouble. You keep taking your medicine, you keep running because it’s good for you, and you keep talking to Emma because that’s good for you, too. She really sounds like someone who cares about you. You’re afraid she’ll run away from you, but you’d be surprised how often a person like that will run
towards
you.”

Twenty-Eight

Emma

I walk downstairs, still blurry-eyed from too much sleep, and find Lauren sitting on the living room couch, reading on her tablet.

“Wow, finally. You’re awake,” she says.

“Where’s Dylan and what are you doing here?” I rub my eyes and stretch.

I am still wearing the shorts and tank top I slept in and I feel a slight chill. It looks cloudy and gray outside.

“He went on a run and asked me to sit here until you woke up. I guess he still doesn’t want you to be alone because of all the crappy stuff with your dad.”

“Geez, I don’t think I’ve had a babysitter since I was nine.”

Lauren puts on a frowny face and jumps up to give me a hug. “Hey, I’m so sorry about your dad. I’ve given you a lot of shit about Robert over the years, but I never thought your dad would do this, and I can’t imagine how awful this must be.”

Since I don’t have any siblings to share this with, I accept Lauren’s hug eagerly at first and then wriggle free from her grasp. I am thankful she’s said that, yet I’m also afraid I will start weeping again. I am sick of crying. It makes my head hurt and my body tired. When it comes to being sad and furious over my father, I am emotionally depleted. I have to get off this really lousy merry-go-round of putting so much stock into my father. It’s over, he’s done, and I am finished when it comes to depending on him.