That Which Destroys Me (18 page)

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Authors: Kimber S. Dawn

BOOK: That Which Destroys Me
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Don’t ask about the olives. For as long as I’ve known her crazy ass, Trina has been popping olives between her sips of wine.

I feel a thousand times better after my shower. With the tears, cum, and most of the self-loathing washed away, I step into my boy shorts and slip a cami on. After I brush my teeth, floss, and pile my hair into a bun, I walk from the bathroom making a beeline for my bed.

I walk into my room and see Trina sitting on the foot of my bed. She tosses a green olive into her mouth. Before she bites into it, she talks around it. “Wine’s on the table, baby girl.”

I scoop it from the table, taking a couple sips before setting it on my nightstand and flopping into bed. “This day sucked ass.”

“Ready to talk about it?” Her eyebrow raises.

“Okay, so I lied. Or crossed my arms behind my head while crossing all my fingers at the same time I crossed my legs, blatantly in front of you, as I made a solemn vow. I’d apologize, but really, in all fairness I would’ve known exactly what you were doing AND I’d have called your ass out on it.” I give her a cheesy smile before telling her, “I love you! I really, really, really do. But I’m not ready to talk about it.”

She continues staring at me over the rim of her glass. “I’ll be ready to talk about it when it isn’t too painful for me to even try and put it into words. Better?”

“Honest?” She counters.

I make a show of nothing being crossed, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Alright. As soon as it doesn’t hurt though, I want all the deets. Full disclosure. Every single damn thing, you hear me, sis?”

“Absolutely. Thanks for understanding. You don’t know how much I appreciate it, T.”

She sighs before standing up and making her way out of my room. “Get some rest. You’ve been fucked beyond all common sense. Believe me, rest is exactly what your poor little self needs.” Before pulling the door closed, she smiles at me, “Night, Stell.”

“Night.” I whisper before rolling over. Instantly unconsciousness steals over me, and at three forty five on Monday afternoon, I fall to sleep.

 

Chapter 20

Monsters Under the Bed

 

When you’re eleven years old and feel love for another human being for the first time in your inadequate young life, you descend effortlessly into a web of obsession.

The demons scratching just beneath the surface of my exterior no longer sought blood. Instead, they pleaded for glimpses of Beauty.

Beauty sadly smiling. Beauty dolefully singing the song I learned, listening to religiously, and hummed myself to sleep with every night.

Anywhere Beauty was, I could be found in the shadows, if one were to ever look or pay attention. Thankfully by eleven, I’d mastered the art of concealing myself.

And because the demons and I loved Beauty, and my social skills left much to be desired, I reverted to the only thing I knew … I watched.

I watched Beauty more than I watched the back of my own eyelids.

I watched Beauty more than I studied my Anatomy and Physiology bible.

When I wasn’t watching Beauty, I had my nose in English Lit book after English Lit book… trying in vain to find the confidence, the depth of my feelings, and the words to convey both…only to fail and give up, time and time again.

I stopped sleeping in my bed the very night that followed the day I heard her sing and I slipped on the roof trying to get closer to her.

Every night from that day on, I took my pillow and a blanket and hid them under her bed. During her bath time, I would stuff toys and clothes under my comforter and mold them into a child’s sleeping form. Then, before Beauty was finished with her bath, I would slip beneath her bed and become the epitome of still silence.

Some nights she slept peacefully. Most nights she screamed and sobbed, speaking broken hushed words of blood seeping, of blood covering, of blood dripping from her hands. And she screamed, begging for the screams to stop.

Every single night she screamed and shook the bed frame above me, I fell more in love with my Beauty.

Now that I’ve told you the first time I fell in love with Beauty, allow me to tell the story of the first time my love twisted into stained hate.

 

Chapter 21

Talk

 

Two days. I’ve done nothing except pace my office, stalking back and forth, wearing the plush carpet thin for two days.

Sleep evades me. Motivation to do anything other than concentrate on the burdens racking my every thought is nonexistent. I strike out at anyone and everyone that dares address me. I came within inches of removing Rachel’s head yesterday when she spat at me in a sneering tone. “I cannot believe you are letting that disgrace to society needle her way under your skin. What is wrong with you, Wesley? Have you finally lost your damn mind? Is that it?”

She left after I explained that every time I looked at her all I saw was how much of a leech and failure of a decent human being she truly was.

And she hasn’t returned. Thank God.

I should go home. I should shower. I should probably eat.

Instead, I pour myself a tumbler of scotch and dial Stella’s number.

“Ello?” Trina answers before shuffling the phone around. “Shit, damn, hell. Sorry! Hello?”

“Everything all right?” I ask.

“Oh, hey. Yeah, dropped the damn phone. She’s asleep. In case you were wondering. I know you aren’t calling for my stellar conversation skills.” She laughs.

“Of course I am, Trina. You sell yourself short, love. However, now that we’re on the topic, is she okay? Has she said anything? Is she coming to work tomorrow?”

“Jesus Christ, Wes. Pipe down on the third degree for a second. Yes, she woke up around lunch. I managed to get a cup of broth in her and extract the words, “I’m going to work tomorrow.” But that’s it. So no, she hasn’t told me jack and I have a shoulder, actually two available if you feel the need to pour your heart out. And… Sorry, Wes. But I don’t know if she’s okay, to be completely honest with you.”

A sigh escapes my mouth and I nod before saying, “Thanks, Trina. I appreciate you talking to me. Let me know if y’all need anything.”

After I hang up, I contemplate on continuing to stalk or head home. Shit. I really do need a shower and a shave. Plus, I’ve gone through all the scotch I had hidden in my office.

I drank my weight in fucking Johnny Walker last night when I got home. I showered, shaved, and sat in my huge oxford leather chair and commenced drinking until I drowned the sniveling voice in my head that constantly begs and urges me to snatch Stella from her apartment and fuck her so stupid she can’t think straight. At which point, I would be made to care for her until my dying day.

Which is complete and utter absurdity.

I roll - literally roll - until I fall from my bed landing on all fours and crawl to the bathroom.

I shower again, however it does nothing to clean the scotch from my sweat glands. I grab the phone in the master bedroom and call Myrta, my housekeeper that stays during the week. “Mr. Wesley, good morning, love. How are you?”

“Hey Myrta, not so hot. I need you to have a Bloody Mary made for breakfast. Oh, and make sure Travis will be on time to drive me to work today too.”

“Ohhhh, Mr. Wesley.” She tsks. “Youth does not sit in your corner for long. Why do you continue to spat in her direction?” Her English isn’t broken, however her Spanish accent twists and cuts the words making them sound as Spanish as the Mexican town where Myrta was born. When she’s pissed? Her capability to speak English is thrown out the window.

“I don’t recall spitting at anyone.” I chuckle. “I’ll be down soon.”

God bless Myrta’s soul! She had one Bloody Mary on the kitchen counter and another in my to-go coffee thermos.

I walk into my office sipping the cure to my hangover and smile when I see Rachel isn’t here. I hope our little tiff will cause her to quit. Without a two week notice. After I put a call in to my business manager requesting a temp secretary, I set the phone in the cradle only to pick it directly back up when it rings. “Wesley Jacobs.”

“Wes, what’s up man? It’s Jude.”

“Jude? Is there something I can do for you?” I ask as I sink into my chair.

“Umm… Maybe. Have you heard from Stell?”

Speak of the devil and she will appear.

Stella walks into my office smiling. The urge to toss her across my lap and spank her little ass to kingdom come is one I am barely able to restrain. “Nope. Sure haven’t. Now, is there something that I can help you with?” I say, enunciating the ‘I’.

“Damn. I’ve been trying to call her since Monday evening. Well, when she comes in, give her a message for me, yeah?”

Hell. No.

“Sure thing, buddy.” I smile like the devil across my desk at Stella.

“Just have her call me. That’d be great. Thanks, Wes.” Click.

I gently set the phone down without removing my eyes from Stella’s or allowing the devious smile to slide from my face.

She nervously sinks into her chair while tucking her hair behind her ears before she whispers, “Hey.”

“Angel, you look beautiful today. Did you know that?” I stand slowly from my seat keeping my eyes locked on hers until her nerves cause her to glance down and break eye contact.

“I didn’t. But thank you for the compliment. Wesley, I can’t do this.” Her voice pleads and her eyes connect with mine as I round the corner of my desk. In two quick strides, I’m in front of her and sinking to my knees.

“Shh…” I cup her face in my hands and brush my lips against hers before pulling back and looking into her eyes. “Listen to me. I want you. Only you. I don’t know nor do I give a fuck what Rachel said or did to make you think otherwise. Now, this is the important part. You are to remain silent and hear me out. I let you get your rant out, even as preposterous as it was. You will allow me the same. Understood?”

She nods before speaking. “Yes, I understand.”

“Us - we are going to be hard work. We’re both so fucked up that no one wants or understands us. And the ones that are ignorant enough to believe they do, we immediately discredit their obtuse asses. So yes, WE are going to be hard, WE will go at each other like ravenous beasts overcome with anger, with passion, with hate, with love and do you know why angel?” I continue without giving her a chance to answer. “Because that is the breed of people we are. Everything which is important to us we give of ourselves hundred percent. Opinions are important to us, being right is important to us, and WINNING is important to us.” I slide a hand from the side of her face and bury it in her hair, fisting and pulling, “Oh yes angle, we will fight.”, I mutter crushing her mouth to mine.

Our tongues circle, our mouths swallow, while our lungs breathe each other’s breath. And just like every time I’m with Stell, weird crazy shit starts running through my mind. Chasing away ideas of ever letting her go.

When her teeth sink into my lower lip before sucking it into her mouth, I moan and pull her lips open with my thumb on her chin. Devouring her mouth.

I pull away from her swollen lips and smile. “We will fight, angel. We’ll fight hard. But it’ll be worth every strike below the belt, every spiteful word uttered . When we love, when we fuck, when our passions rip through us with wild intensity, it’ll obliterate all of the bad. I want all your hate, Stell just as much as I want all your love. This, Us, is going to happen angle and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to stop it, angel.”

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