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Authors: Rhonda Dennis

Yours Always (15 page)

BOOK: Yours Always
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“Savannah.”

“Shhhh,” I say, kissing him hard.  He greedily returns the affection then moans with pleasure when I raise his shirt to lick and kiss his chest and abs.  I’m feeling empowered and sexy as hell when I leave his lap to get the white shirt from the sofa.  I twirl it a couple of times, and then blindfold Fletcher with it.

I start kissing his neck again, and the music changes to something with an abrasive beat.  I don’t even remember downloading the song, but I’m so wrapped up in what I’m doing that I disregard it.  It’s not until I kiss Fletcher on the lips that I realize something is wrong.  Very wrong.  He’s not trembling with desire anymore; he’s broken out in a cold sweat again.  His breathing isn’t sporadic from want, and he seems terrified. 

I pull the shirt from his eyes to find them glassed over.  Fletcher’s body might be with me, but his mind is somewhere else.  “Fletcher,” I softly say as his breathing gets more labored.

I reach out to stop the music, quickly untie his hands, and grip his face between my palms to make him look at me.  My heart is thudding because I don’t know what’s going on, but I know in the pit of my stomach that whatever it is, it’s bad.

“Fletcher, honey.  Talk to me.  What’s wrong?”

His breathing gets so labored that he starts to make grunting sounds.  He rapidly shakes his head from side to side, and I can’t hold his face between my hands anymore.  Before I can do anything to stop it, he violently lurches from the chair, and my head smacks against the hard floor.  He’s on top of me, saying “stop” over and over again.  He’s looking right at me, but he doesn’t see me.  I’m scared out of my mind, and I have no clue what’s going on or what I should do.  Before I can stop myself, I begin to cry.

“I’m sorry, Fletcher.  I don’t know what I did wrong.  I’m so sorry,” I keep saying over and over again while he pins me to the floor.  As I sob, I notice that his grip begins to loosen, and I take the opportunity to wipe my tears. 

“Oh, my God.  Savannah!  Did I hurt you?  Oh, baby, please tell me I didn’t hurt you.  I’m so sorry.  I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart.  Please tell me you’re okay.”  He’s practically sobbing, himself. 

I sit up and push myself away from him to rest my back against the sofa.  He crawls over to me.  “Are you okay?  Please tell me that I didn’t hurt you.  God, please.”

“I’m okay,” I manage to say before he smothers me with a hug. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.  Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”

“You scared me, Fletcher.  You wouldn’t answer me, and the look that was on your face—it gave me chills.  What happened?”

He releases me, and with a defeated sigh, he asks me if I’ll please join him in the bedroom.  I nod my head, and that’s when I realize I have a goose egg forming.  I touch the tender spot and wince.

“I did hurt you.  Shit!  Savannah, is it bad?  Should I bring you to the hospital?  Do you want to call the police?  Leave?  I’ll understand.”

“No.  Stop and listen to me.  I’ve been the victim of domestic abuse, and what happened here wasn’t abuse.  Something was definitely wrong, but you weren’t out to hurt me.  It’s like you checked out or something.”

He hands me a plastic bag filled with ice that he’s wrapped in a dish towel.  “Come on.  I’ll explain everything.  I should have done this a long time ago, but I’d been doing so well…”

I follow him into the bedroom, where he lies in bed and pats the spot next to him.  I lie in his arms, and he takes it upon himself to keep my ice pack in place.

“This is hard for me, Savannah.  Not many people know about my problem.”

“You can tell me anything, Fletcher.  Remember how hard it was for me to tell you about my issues, and look how freeing it was for me.  Maybe that’s all you need?  There’s nothing you can tell me that will make me want to leave you, so tell me everything.  Is it drugs?”

“No, nothing like that.”  He sighs.  “Have you heard of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?  Some people call it PTSD for short.”

“I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know too much about it.”

“First of all, it sucks.  Essentially, it’s a mental disorder I developed due to a combination of the physical and emotional trauma I experienced while overseas.”

“Is it from the explosion?” I ask.

“Partly,” he patiently answers.  He removes the ice pack from my head and uses that hand to lightly stroke my arm.  “Are you sure you want to hear the story?”

“Yes, I want to know everything there is to know about you.  I want to know all of your experiences, everything that’s made you happy, sad, afraid—everything.”

He nods his head.  “If you decide you don’t want to hear anymore, just stop me, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree.  Butterflies flitter in my stomach because I have no idea what’s about to come from his mouth.  The only thing I know for sure is that whatever it is, I’ll continue to love and cherish him.

“So you know that the truck exploded while Brody was driving, and that he was killed instantly, right?”

“Yes.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds.  “I remember most of it: the smells, the high pitched ringing in my ears, the searing heat from the fire.  I was pulled from the wreckage and some kind of garment was tossed over me to quash the flames.  Once they were out, I was loaded into the back of a pickup truck and driven to a bunker.  The reason the scars are so bad is because I didn’t get medical attention right away.  I was held hostage and tortured for three days before I was rescued.”

Gasping, my body tightens as I try to hold back the tears that are brimming.  I couldn’t even begin to imagine the agony, fright, and anguish he went through.

“I was hooded and strapped to a chair.  With the burns on my back, it was excruciating.  I repeatedly begged them to kill me, but obviously they wouldn’t.  I’m not going to retell every event, every act, every detail, because it’s too hard.  I wish every single day that I could scrub it out of my memory, but I can’t.  The memories sit there, haunting me when I least expect it.  Like tonight.  I loved every second of tonight, and I’ll be very upset if you won’t give me a repeat performance.  Everything was fine until you tied my hands.  I started to get a little anxious, but I was so wrapped up in the moment that I cast it aside.  But once I was blindfolded…”

“I’m so sorry, Fletcher.”

“Don’t be.  You didn’t know, sweetheart.  How could you know?”

“So as long as I don’t tie you up or blindfold you, you’re fine?”

“Unfortunately, no.  That’s not how this works.  Remember the food poisoning at the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t food poisoning, it was the fireworks.  The loud popping and the explosions, they triggered a reaction.  I was too embarrassed to tell you the truth because I’d been doing so well.  I hadn’t had an attack in quite a while, and I thought I’d finally been cured.  Obviously, I haven’t.”

“Have you seen a doctor?  Is there some kind of help you can get?”

“I was in a hospital for a long time getting treated for it.  Remember how cold Julia was when we first ran into her at the carnival?”

I nod.

“It’s because she’s still mad at me for leaving the treatment facility against medical advice.  I was supposed to stay for another four weeks, but I couldn’t take it anymore.  The panic attacks had stopped, and I didn’t want to stay locked in my room any longer…  That’s how bad I had it, Savannah.  I developed agoraphobia, and I wouldn’t leave my room.  Therapy and the right meds helped me to get past so many of the issues and obstacles I faced.  I didn’t see the need to stay any longer.  I wanted to be home in Louisiana, where I could spend time with Ben, Molly, and Julia.  Julia needed me.  Molly was young, and had just lost her husband.”

“I understand your reasoning, but I also understand why Julia was upset.”

“Well, she’s over it now, and that’s why I need you to promise that we’ll keep this to ourselves.  Ben obviously knows, but that’s it.  Julia doesn’t need to know about these recent episodes, okay.”

I nod.  “Okay.  Is there anything else I need to know about?”

“I don’t think so.  Long as I stay away from triggers, I should be okay.”

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

He lightly kisses me on my forehead.  “I’m sorry, too.  But if everything hadn’t happened the way it did, I might not have found you.  So, that’s my story.”

I position myself so I can look him in the eye.  “I love you, Fletcher Reilly.  I’ll always love you, and I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

“Ah, Savannah.  Those words melt my heart.  I love you, too.  I’m yours always.”

I rest my head on his chest and listen to the beating of his heart.  We’re silent for a long time.  I’m not sure what’s going through his mind, but I’m going over the things he’s confided in me.  Tortured.  He was tortured for three days with severe burns and injuries from an explosion.  The fact that he lived is amazing in itself, but to know that the torture still haunts him hurts my heart.  That he had to live it once is terrible enough, but to have to relive it over and over and over, when will his torture end?

His breathing is slow and steady, and I think he’s fallen asleep until I feel his fingers unclasping the back of my bra.  “So you bought this just for me?”

“I sure did,” I say with a smile.

“Thank you,” he says, and the way he says it alludes to the fact that he’s not talking about the new bra and panties.  I take his face in my hands and draw him close to me.  What I’d started out intending to be hot and heavy sex turned into gentle and tender lovemaking, but I wasn’t about to complain.  Fletcher showed me how much he loved me, and I decide right then that he’s right—we’re soul mates.   But, when should I let him know that?

Chapter Eleven

 

 

I slip out early the next morning so I can meet with an admissions counselor before going to work.  The admissions process is pretty painless, and I walk out of the building as a nursing student.  It’s funny how timing works, a new semester is starting at the same moment my future career path becomes clear.  Not to mention that I’ll be graduating in two years instead of four.  I’ll start with my associate’s degree, start working as a nurse, and then decide if I want to continue on with my education.  My journey is unfurling before me, and all I have to do is keep moving forward.

After work, I stop at the store to pick up some things to make a huge grilled chicken salad.  Enough of the eating out.  If I’m changing my life, might as well include my body in that change, too.  I make a quick call to Fletcher to see if he’s interested in joining me for supper.  He is, but he asks me if I’d mind eating at his place.  I tell him that it’s no problem and head towards his apartment.

I lightly rap on the door, and he opens is almost immediately.  I give him a quick peck before pushing past him to get the groceries unloaded.  “I have three different kinds of lettuce, carrots, tomatoes, all kinds of stuff.  What’s your favorite dressing?  I was thinking about making a simple vinaigrette, but if you don’t like that kind of thing, I bought a couple of bottles of some other stuff.” 

Realizing that I hadn’t even greeted him properly, I rectify the situation in what I hope comes off as smooth.  “So, what did you do today?  Were you busy?”

“The usual stuff.  Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

I open the fridge to put the perishables inside and notice it’s empty.  “Babe, we’ve got to get this place stocked up.  There’s not even a bottle of water in here.  Why didn’t you go to the store?”

“I didn’t have time today.  I’ll go tomorrow.”

“You literally have nothing, zero, zilch.  Do you want to go while I’m fixing supper?”

“No,” he says, coming up behind me.  He encircles my waist and draws me near.  “I want to stay right here and enjoy you.”  His lips trail kisses down my neck, and I’m wrought with a deep shiver.

“Stop.  Not now,” I fuss.  “I’ll surely cut myself if you keep that up.”

He takes the knife from my hand, sets it beside the cutting board, and turns me to face him.  His lips are upon mine, and I toss the handful of lettuce I’m still gripping onto the counter.  He tightly squeezes his arms together around my thighs, and lifts me from the floor.  Our lips remain locked as he fumbles his way into the bedroom. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all day long,” he mumbles as he pauses long enough to cast his shirt aside.

“So have I,” I admit between kisses.  I unbutton my blouse, and it joins Fletcher’s on the floor.

Fletcher pins my arms above my head as he teases and torments my body with his lips and tongue.  He’s not being soft about it, and I find myself turned on by his aggressiveness.  It feels primitive, no thought needed.  Just two desperate bodies yearning for the release that’s sure to come.

“I want you,” I whisper against his lips.  “Please. Now.”  The anticipation leaves me trembling.  He accepts my plea, and my eyes roll into the back of my head as he fills me. 

“Tell me how you want it,” he softly requests in my ear.

“I want it rough,” I answer.

“Oh, you want rough, huh?” he asks, thrusting deeply inside of me.  “Like that?”

I gasp while nodding my head.  “Yes, like that.  Just like that.”

It’s probably one of the best sexual encounters we’ve had since our first time, and we’re both exhausted, sweaty, and out of breath once we finish.  I want to jump into the shower, but my body isn’t ready to let me move yet.  Instead, I lie in Fletcher’s arms as he softly strokes my hair.

“Savannah?”

“Yeah,” I answer.

“I need to tell you something, and I’ll completely understand if it changes things with us.  It’s hard for me to admit this, but I’m not going to lie to you.”

I sit up so I can face him.  “What’s wrong, Fletcher?”

He turns his back to me and puts his face in his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed.  “I don’t have any food in the fridge because I’ve been worried about leaving the house again.  What if I have another attack while I’m in the store?  Or driving?  You’ve seen for yourself how much they debilitate me.”

I move to sit behind him and lightly kiss his scarred shoulder.  “Baby, you did those things on your own for a long time before these recent attacks.  You’ve had some serious triggers: the fireworks and me tying you up.  I’m so sorry about that.  I feel terrible.”

“You have nothing to feel sorry for, sweetheart.  How could you have known?  I love that you feel free and uninhibited around me.  I know what you’ve overcome to get to this point, and I consider it a gift.  Not the sex, but the trust that you have in me.”

“I love you, Fletcher.  I love you in a way that I never thought was possible.  You make me feel beautiful and wanted, and it feels natural to be open with you.  It was strange to me in the beginning, but now it just feels right.”

He kisses my palm.  “I love you, too.”

“How about we blow off the salad, we get dressed, and we go to the grocery store together.  We’ll find a place close by.  I’ll be there with you, and if something happens, we’ll come straight back to the apartment.  Okay?”

He gives my hand a squeeze.  “You’re too good to be true.  You know that, right?”

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” I admit.

 

The trip to the grocery store is uneventful for Fletcher.  He does fine, and I see his confidence beginning to build.  After we unload the groceries, I ask him if he’s up for an outing to a local pub.  He says he’d like to give it a try, especially since we’d worked up such a big appetite with our bedroom antics and our shopping trip.  I blush slightly. 

“Can we take the bike?” I ask, unsure of whether I’m pushing too hard or not.

Fletcher smiles.  “Of course.”

Again, he does perfectly fine while we’re eating out, and again, I see his confidence level grow.  I beam with pride because I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.  Savannah Mason has overcome, and her prize is the jackpot to end all jackpots.  If I had any friends to call, I’d be bragging to all of them.  Life absolutely can’t get any better.  But, then it does.

Fletcher doesn’t drive us back to the apartment once we finish supper.  Instead, we take a ride through some of the less congested streets and neighborhoods.  I love being on the back of the bike, and I smile as pleasant memories of my dad come back to me.  I fully believe he’s responsible for leading me to Fletcher.  Seriously, what are the odds that some random customer would want to meet with me because he likes the way I sound?  There is no way in hell I would normally touch something like that, but my gut kept telling me that something was different about this guy.  Seeing Dad’s bike is what sealed the deal.  I’d have never agreed to meet with him if it weren’t for that picture. 
If it was you, thank you for sending me the sign, Dad.
   I feel a little silly at first, but then I remember that Molly believes in signs, too.   Maybe it’s something that a lot of people believe in?  Oh well, I’m on my way to becoming a believer.

He stops the bike at a beautiful, tree-filled park, and we follow a path around the pond to a large gazebo that overlooks the water.  He stands behind me, his arms draped over my shoulders, as we breathe in the fresh night air.  It’s so peaceful and quiet that we spend the first few minutes soaking it in.  “Savannah?” he softly whispers in my ear.

“Hmmmm,”

“Marry me.”

I quickly turn around.  “What?  Fletcher…”

His finger touches my lip.  “Shhhh.  I don’t need an answer today.  I know what I want, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.  I’m not trying to pressure you.  We haven’t known each other very long, and to others it may seem foolish and rushed, but sometimes things don’t have to follow the norm.  Sometimes you just know what you know, and you have to jump in with both feet.  That’s how I feel.  You might feel completely different, and I respect that.  So, every single day, I’m going to ask you to marry me, and you can say no every single time I do, but one day… one day, you’re going to say yes.  We’re meant to be together, Savannah.  I feel it with every ounce of my being.”

“You’re right because I feel it, too.  Fletcher, you don’t need to ask me more than once.  I want to marry you.  This always sounded so corny to me when I heard it in the movies, but I understand it now—you complete me.  I’m whole when I’m with you.”

“Aww, baby, I love you so much!” He takes my face in his palms and kisses me with passion and fervor.   “I love you. I love you.  I love you,” he whispers over and over again.

 

 

Lizzy and Ben are back from their honeymoon, and this payback is going to be so fun!  They’re still living in Lizzy’s apartment, and I have the key.  Ben’s car is nowhere in sight as I pull into the parking lot.  Perfect!  I let myself in, like I’ve done a hundred times before.  “Oh, Lizzy Lou!  Guess what!” I yell.

“Savannah?” she asks, running from the bedroom wearing only a half closed bath robe. 

“Please tell me that Ben isn’t here.  I’m so sorry if I interrupted something,” I ramble.

“No, he’s not here.  The only thing you interrupted is the shower I’m about to take.  Come on, I have the water running.  You can keep me company while I’m in there.”

“Wait,” I insist, “this isn’t news I can give to you while you’re showering.”

“What are you talking about?  Is everything okay?”

“Everything is wonderful!  Great! Magnificent!”

Lizzy plops onto the sofa.  “Oh, dear.  It’s happened.  You’ve snapped.”

I laugh.  “No!  I haven’t snapped. I buried the past, and I’m starting fresh.  Life is beautiful, and it’s a gift.”

Lizzy gives me an uncertain look. “Fletcher Reilly must have one huge...”

“Lizzy!” I snap.  “Well, he does, but that’s not what this is all about, and I guess you really didn’t need to know that either…”

Lizzy smiles broadly.  “You’ve been getting some of the good stuff.  Fletcher’s got a big wiener.  Fletcher’s got a big wiener.  And he knows how to use it,” Lizzy playfully sings.

“Will you cut it out?  Listen to me, please.”

“Okay, fine,” she says, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders.  “Lay it on me.”

“I’m going to marry him.  He asked me, and I said yes.  Lizzy, I’m going to do this.  I’m really going to do it.”

Lizzy begins to cry.  “I’m so happy for you.  Savannah, if only you knew how much I worried about you. How sad I was that you weren’t allowing yourself to experience happiness.  How heartbroken I was that you felt destined to be alone.  This is such a relief, and I’m thrilled!”

“There’s more.”

“More?” she asks, swiping away at her tears.

“I enrolled in nursing school.  I start next week.”

“What!  Are you kidding me?  Savannah, I’m so proud of you!  You’re going to make a great nurse.”

“Thank you.”  I give her a huge hug.

“My shower!” Lizzy squeals, breaking the embrace to dash towards the bathroom.  She sticks her hand inside the shower and frowns.  “It’s cold.  Oh well, that means I get to hear more of your story while I’m waiting for it to heat back up.  Sit!  Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure,” I agree while reclaiming my seat on the sofa.  Lizzy busies herself with getting out the mugs and such, so I go on with my story.

“So many good things have happened to me since Fletcher came into my life.  I can talk about Lucas without bursting into tears. I’ve forgiven my mother for her evil ways…”

Lizzy cuts me off.  “Forgiven her?  Savannah, she’s the reason you’re without a father.  She was a horrid woman who regularly abused you.  How can you forgive her?”

“I said that I forgive her, but I’ll never forget what she did.  I still haven’t told Fletcher about that yet.”

“You haven’t?  Frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t hear about it with all of the news coverage it received.”

“He was probably away during that time.  Plus, why would he remember?  The case is memorable to those involved, or maybe to a few who actually remember the event.  Not many remember the names and details.”

Lizzy shrugs her shoulders.  “I guess.  So when’s the wedding?’

“I don’t know.  We haven’t discussed any of that.”

“Any chance it might be happening soon?  Like before Ben and I leave for Dallas?”

“Lizzy!  Just because you and Ben had an overnight engagement doesn’t mean everyone else does, too.  Some people stay engaged for years before marriage.”

“Please don’t tell me that you want to wait years,” she says, handing me a coffee mug.

“No, I don’t,” I say giggling. 

“You giggled!  I still can’t get used to that.  I love it.”

“Stop.”

“Seriously, Savannah.  You’re like a whole different person.  Not that the person you were before was terrible or anything, it’s just that you were…”

“Boring?”

“Yes!  And…”

BOOK: Yours Always
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