Get Off on the Pain (19 page)

Alex turns to me, his face all bruised and swollen, taking me by surprise. He looks me over as if he can’t believe I’m actually here. He looks completely confused, but shit so am I. What the hell happened to him? He looks like hell. I get ready to freak out and say something, but he places his finger to his lips and shushes me. “Come here,” he says softly.

Swallowing back my shock, I walk over to stand next to him. I see a small smile cross his face as he looks out into the darkness and listens to the peaceful sound of Memphis’ guitar. There’s something about his playing that makes you feel strangely at peace.

I look through the screen door and into the darkness, but all I can make out is Memphis’ shadow. He looks so relaxed and undisturbed. The tune that he’s playing is a hauntingly beautiful sound. It’s something I’ve never heard before and it makes me wonder if he wrote it himself.

“It’s so beautiful,” I whisper to Alex. “Why is he out there playing? It’s chilly out.”

Alex turns toward me, and his eyes glass over. It almost looks as if he’s fighting back tears. “Memphis used to always play back here for our mother.” He takes in a small breath and places his hand to the glass with his head down. “At first it used to just be her that he played for, but then one night I heard him playing and I sat out next to our mother and ended up listening for hours. I was young then, but I remember the feeling as if it were yesterday. I’ve never seen anything bring a smile to my mother’s face like when Memphis played. She loved it and our father hated it. He hated the fact that she loved it so much. Then it got to the point that if I couldn’t sleep we would all end up out here on the porch, listening to him play until I could fall asleep.” He turns to me and looks me straight in the eyes. His eyes are just as breathtaking as Memphis’ except Alex’s are a silver-grayish color. These boys are definitely painfully beautiful. “He’s a good guy. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. Don’t let
him
tell you otherwise. Got it?”

Nodding my head, I turn back toward the door to watch Memphis play.

I feel an ache in my chest as I listen. I can feel the pain with each stroke of his fingers, as if he’s baring himself to us through his music. Everything about Memphis makes my heart ache. I can’t imagine what he’s been through, but I really want to know.

I never really got the chance to know my mother, because she ran off when I was five. I can’t imagine having her around for most of my life and then losing her when he couldn’t even stay around for her. I feel for these boys, both of them. No mother, and from what I can see no father either. Neither have any family, just each other.

I can’t help but to ask this next question. It’s eating at me. “Alex?” He turns to me with soft eyes, peeking through his swollen lids. “Where’s your–”

The music stops and I hear what sounds like Memphis setting his guitar down. For some reason my heart skips a beat when I see him stand up.

“What are you two doing awake? It’s early as shit.”

Placing his hand on the small of my back, Alex pushes the screen door open and holds it for me to walk out first. “I couldn’t sleep, and apparently neither of you two could either. You know I don’t sleep for shit.”

Memphis catches a glimpse of his shirt and looks me up and down, before he walks over to me, his jaw steeled. His eyes change, becoming heated, as if he’s ready to strip it from me and take me hard and rough again. It has my heart racing at the memory. “You should get some sleep.” He brushes my hair behind my ear and slightly tugs on the end before releasing it. It was almost a gentle gesture. “I’ll be downstairs soon. I need some fresh air.”

I let out a small breath and turn to Alex. He’s watching Memphis and I, but he looks like he’s in a lot of pain. “Do you need anything,” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. Pain doesn’t faze me one bit.” He smiles small. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I look from Alex to Memphis and see a small smile on Memphis’ face. It’s so damn beautiful.

Both the boys watch me for a moment before I turn away and make my way back downstairs. I take a seat on the edge of Memphis’ bed and let myself get lost in thought. It hits me that I have no idea why I’m even here. I don’t really know much about Memphis, yet a part of me is extremely drawn to him, wanting him more than I should. It scares me.

As much as I want to be close to him, I feel like a fool at the same time. The truth is, he barely knows anything about me either. I just know that I feel for him, and that I want to comfort him.

Standing up, I search for my clothes and start to get dressed. I think maybe it’s best if I just go home. I have a lot of thinking to do, and I won’t be able to think clearly lying next to him in his bed. When I’m here I can’t think rationally. I don’t want to.

Memphis appears at the bottom of the steps right as I reach for my jacket and slip it on. I look up at him as he scans my body, seeing that I’m fully dressed. “I should go home.”

He reaches out and grabs my wrist as I attempt to walk past him. “I never said you had to go.”

I look into his eyes and hold his stare. He looks hurt that I’m leaving. It makes me feel guilty. “Tell me something about me, anything at all.”

His grip on my wrist tightens and his eyes stay on mine as if trying to read me. “You’re stubborn as shit and tough as all hell. Your true passion is art and photography, but you’re too damn afraid to realize it. You don’t see the beauty in what you do, because you’re afraid of it not being good enough. That’s why you’re working at that damn tattoo shop with those horny little shits that probably spend most of their time flirting with you instead of working.”

He looks away for a second before continuing. “You were raised by your asshole father that is too stupid to see your worth and how damn beautiful you are. He’s a lucky son of a bitch and he blew it . . . but it also made you strong and independent; a fighter . . . like me.”

I swallow back the swarm of emotions that are taking over me. Okay, so he knows a little more about me than I expected, and I fucking love him for it. It only shows how deep he is and that maybe there’s a small part of him that cares about me too. I need more though. I want to know about him. I want him to be able to tell me and to want to tell me. “Can you tell me anything about yourself, like why you’ve been locked up? Where’s your father? Where did you take off to for a whole week? Anything?”

He shakes his head and grinds his jaw before releasing my wrist. “No. I’m leaving soon. I’m not allowing you the chance to hate me while I’m still here.”

“That’s what I thought.” I walk past him and to the stairs. “Have a good night, Memphis.”

Without wasting another second, I make my way upstairs and let myself out. The cool wind hits me, and suddenly I feel a rush of emotions. My cheeks feel like ice as tears run down my face.

It’s not just about Memphis refusing to open up to me. It’s about Memphis reminding me of how much my father never cared. I always felt as if I wasn’t good enough, because I wasn’t the damn boy that he wanted. My mother didn’t even want me enough to take me when she left. I was stuck with an asshole that pretended I wasn’t even around. Now, I’m here in this damn town because I thought things would be different if I moved closer to my father. I was wrong and all I have is Bailey. She’s my family now.

Right as I get ready to reach for the door, I feel an arm reach around me and feel the softness of Memphis’ breath skimming across my neck.

“You don’t have your key,” he whispers.

I almost allow myself to turn around, fall into him, and bury my face into the warmth of his firm chest, but the rational part of me is screaming not to allow him to see my emotions, to let him see just how broken I truly feel right now. I’ve always been strong for myself; I still can and I will. He has enough pain to deal with.

He slips his key into the handle and slowly turns it, while brushing his lips up the side of my neck, stopping just below my ear. “Goodnight, Lyric.” His words come out in a painful whisper, before he pushes the door open and turns and walks away.

I allow myself a few seconds to compose myself, listening for his door to close, before quietly walking inside and closing the door behind me.

Damn . . . I already miss him.

IT’S BEEN FIVE DAYS SINCE I have spoken to Memphis. The only time I’ve seen him is when he leaves his house, but I avoid him by staying inside, waiting for him to leave before I do. I still can’t get past the fact that he can’t open up to me, or won’t. Why is it such a fucking big deal for him to tell me anything about him? I’ve never met someone so secretive in my life besides my father . . . and nothing good has ever come of him. Those with secrets usually have a reason.

At first I liked the mystery of Memphis. I liked that he kept me guessing and made me wonder, but now it’s almost painful to be left in the dark. Nothing hurts worse than wanting to get to know someone, only to have that person refuse to open up to you. How can you be there for someone and help ease their pain when you don’t even know what’s hurting them? You can’t . . . so I’m just going to stay away and keep my distance before I get hurt.

Trevor asked me to come out with him tonight. After realizing that I need to do something to get my mind off Memphis, I agreed. Trevor may not be my ideal date, but he’s definitely sexy and fun. To be honest, I’m enjoying myself more than I expected.

“Hey. You over there daydreaming about me naked?”

I look up and laugh at Trevor across the table. I was so lost in thought for a moment that I didn’t even notice he was watching me. “Are you always this smooth on dates or is it just with me?”

Trevor smirks and tilts back his fifth shot of the night before answering. “Definitely always. It’s a curse and a blessing; a love, hate relationship.”

I can’t help but to laugh at his playfulness. Maybe Trevor will be a good distraction. It may never be anything more than friends, but you can never have too many friends. When you’ve never had much of a family, friends become the most important thing in life. I learned that the hard way.

I watch him for a moment, happy that I decided to get out of the house. He’s kept me smiling practically the whole night, although I can tell he’s getting a bit drunk now. He asked me to dance a few times, but until now I haven’t had enough alcohol to even want to. “Come on, Rico Suave.” I take a drink of my beer and stand up, reaching for his hand. “I’m tired of sitting.”

He grabs my hand and I pull him behind me, making my way toward the dance floor. As soon as we find an empty spot his hands wrap around my waist and we both move to the slow rhythm of the music.

I feel him grinding behind me as his warm breath heats my ear. It feels nice, but I have to admit . . . it does nothing for me; not like having Memphis close. When Memphis is near I’m lucky if I can even breathe. I feel as if I can just melt into his body and forget about everything else in this fucked up world. He gives me this odd mixture of ease and peacefulness, while still making me feel . . . alive.

I feel Trevor’s lips brush under my ear as he whispers, “You feel so good in my arms. You’re damn sexy, Lyric. You belong with a man like me . . . not someone like Memphis.” His grip on me tightens, causing me to feel his erection pressed against my ass.

He grinds his hips a few times, pulling me as close as possible, to ensure that I feel what I’m doing to him. I’ll admit it’s sexy, but I have a feeling that every other girl does the same thing to him and that just makes it less appealing. A girl wants to feel different than the rest. We all have the same thing between our legs, but who wants to feel like a damn number? Memphis never makes me feel this way. It’s one thing that drew me to him to begin with.

Spinning in his arms, I place my hands on his chest for a little space. “Take it easy, killer. I agreed to a dance, not to fucking you on the dance floor.”

He lifts an eyebrow, amused. “So you prefer to fuck me somewhere else?”

I let out a humorless laugh and shake my head. “If you prefer to have your dick ripped off opposed to keeping it intact, then yes.” I press my hands harder against his chest and give him a little shove. “Back off a bit, Trevor. Maybe you’ve had a little too much to drink.”