“I do own you.” Pushing myself back inside of her, I grabbed her hands, pulling them behind her back, and making sure my grip was tight. “So you’re not moving for at least an hour – I suggest you be a good girl and take it.”
It wasn’t like she had much choice. I had her bent underneath me like a pretty little present that I got to unwrap and make fall apart. Over and over and over again, until her voice was sore from screaming, my entire body burned with stress, and neither of us could do anymore. Only then did I tap out, as we passed out in each other’s arms, happy and safe.
Only then did I finally satiate the need inside of me for the girl I loved more than anything.
The one I desperately didn’t want to lose again.
Chapter Twenty Three
The stars were high in the sky, shining like beacons that begged me to find the nearest spaceship and head as high as I could go. I needed a vacation and one to the stars seemed like it could be far enough away from the bullshit that I might have felt better.
Right now, despite being out more in the last week and my plan going swimmingly, life wasn’t great because nightmares had roused me from Kody’s arms when it was still dark out, and I hadn’t been the only one awake. I’d gone to open my window for some fresh air and a single glance outside had shown me Henley, sitting alone as she looked at the stars. An empty vodka bottle sat next to her – her third this week. It hadn’t even been a choice for me to silently head downstairs and make my way to the patio area right next to the pool.
“Henley.” I called out her name, not wanting to startle her.
She glanced at me, then lifted her new bottle to her lips, frowning as the sharp taste no doubt burned her tongue. “Hey.”
“You been out here long?”
“Nope.” She offered me the bottle as I took the chair next to her, and I took it even if I pretended to be a responsible adult.
“You’re too young to drink.”
She snorted dryly and lay on her back again. “You gonna tell my parents? Oh, wait.”
“Fucking hell.” I collapsed onto the daybed next to her, mimicking her star watching pose. “The dead parent jokes are a rite of passage for the children left behind, but I feel shocked to hear so soon from you. Are you unhappy in your heart,mami? I can talk about things if you want to speak.”
“If I don’t pretend to be amused, I’ll just keep crying.” She breathed. “And I’m not fucking happy. Not even remotely. But I’m very good at pretending. Jokes seem like a part of that, so…”
The stars were bright in the sky, each one glistening like a promise of something bigger and better than me and the life I knew. It was hard to feel important when looking at them, and perhaps that should have scared me, but it did the opposite. I was on a floating rock in the stars; there were bigger things than me in the universe, even if I sometimes felt like the most important person alive.
“What are you pretending right now?” I asked, trying to do my job as her friend and find a way to ensure, eventually, that she was okay and not completely ruined by her unacceptable experiences.
She didn’t hesitate to say, “That I don’t feel like finding something heavy and jumping to the bottom of your pool.”
“What is stopping you?”
“Harrison and Widow.” She admitted. “Harrison needs someone to love him and protect him. And Widow doesn’t deserve to lose me too – I think he loves me, and I thinkhe would miss me.” She knew he loved her; she had seen the evidence more than once. But I understood her need to pretend.
Sometimes it was easier to act than accept reality for what it was.
“Talk to me, lucky H. Tell me whatever is going on in your brain and heart, and we can work it all out. We can make you happy again one day; as happy as you can be considering everything.”
I didn’t even know what happened to her family after their deaths. Raya and Beau had dealt with it all, and I had forgotten to ask. I just hoped they had done something that gave Henley as much closure as she could get for a kid nearly sixteen and almost entirely alone.
“Do you think I’ll ever forget?” She blurted out instead of answering my question.
I sat up, trying to look at her eyes and finding them brimming with tears. “Which part?” I asked.
“The bit where… how…” She sat up too and swigged her drink again. “Nothing. It’s just me trying to trauma dump like a loser.”
There was a look in her eyes that told me what she wanted to say, but it was not my place to push. It was not anyone’s place to make her do anything, ever again, so I tried a different tactic to asking her questions about herself.
“Do you know the story of what happened to my mama and I when I was little? Or what happened to me whilst I was gone? If I trauma dump first, perhaps it will help you.” It was an offer I didn’t usually give, but it seemed only right considering what she had gone through.
If she needed a boost into sharing her nightmares, then perhaps hearing mine could offer some comfort with the fact that she was not alone, even if it felt like she was.
“If you want to. I would like to hear it, but you don’t have to share if you aren’t comfortable.” She muttered, once more the bottle reaching her lips as though she could barely take any time away from it.
