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My Weakness by Alison Mello, C.A. Harms, Keren Hughes, Evan Grace, Skyla Madi, CJ Laurence, Kenadee Bryant, Crave Publishing (29)


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It feels strange…holding her like she’s mine.

I wanted to try it. I wanted to see if it feels the way people claim it does.

My nerves vibrate, rippling inside my body so I definitely feel…something. I don’t know what it is, but it’s better than the nothingness I’ve felt for eleven years.

The prolonged absence of “feeling” is the reason I’m obsessed with her. It’s the reason I’m obsessed with being around her. I discovered it this week when I went away for four days. Those four days were…nothing. It was as if I was thrown into a dark, concrete room and the door was shut behind me. I felt nothing…the same kind of nothing I’ve known for as long as I can remember.

I watched struggling families, hungry children, and starving pets drag themselves through the doors of the indoor market and I didn’t feel anything, not sadness, not sympathy—not even anger at the government for allowing its citizens to go without food. I was numb…like I’ve always been.

Strangely, it changed once I pulled Cassia’s photo from my wallet on the first night. It began with a stirring feeling in my stomach, followed by a flutter in my chest. I didn’t know what it was…and I don’t know what it is now, but, hey, I’ll take what I can get.

Those days passed at a painfully slow rate, the black dog on my back becoming increasingly heavier every time I had to fake a smile or force a laugh. I tried to hold out on seeing her once we were finished with the volunteering, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stand that I was staring down a black and white tunnel when I knew Cassia, in all of her entertaining glory, made the world so colorful. I had no options. I needed to see her as soon as I could.

It was a coincidence that Drew and I ended up in town at the exact moment Cassia and Fiona were closing the perfume shop. I picked him up at a burger joint a street away with the intention of attending a party over at Mummy Mountain. I hate parties. I hate socializing when all I want to do is sleep and fuck, but Drew talked me into going.

By some fucking miracle, I saw her walking down the street, her eyebrows furrowed as she tapped her thumbs against a phone screen. The very second my stare found her, I felt something. I was happy, turned on as fuck, and a little nervous. I’m pretty sure I fucking smiled too. I don’t know it just…it happens so naturally when I see her light pink cheeks.

The numb demon inside me begged me not to pull over, but it was going to take an extreme act of God to prevent me from stopping the car and talking to her.

I needed it.

I desperately needed to feel something—to feel human. When I go through these dark periods…I can barely get out of bed. It’s a relentless swirl of nausea in my stomach, a constant pair of dull shades on my eyes. There’s a black hole eating me up from the inside and I’m powerless to stop it. But…now I have her to chase, I find myself wanting to try. I find myself ignoring the thin little razor hidden underneath the box of ear buds in my bathroom.

In the car, I pointed her out to Drew, but he just missed her as she entered the coffee shop. I wasn’t letting her go that easy though and Drew was pissed when I pulled the car over. With a desperate plea, he promised me there were hotter bitches at the party we were headed to, but I wasn’t in it for the bitches or the sex. It didn’t matter to me how hot the girls he spoke about were. They didn’t fill me with excitement and fear. Not like Cassia did…not like our situation did.

He called me a pussy as I shut off the truck and opened the door, but Drew doesn’t depend on shallowly cutting his thigh with a razorblade to feel something. He doesn’t fantasize about his own death, existing in his hollow shell, waiting for his time to finish. He functions like a normal person…I don’t.

To feel something without using the razorblade was a revelation. A revelation that could save my life.

To be clear, I’m not after a relationship with Cassia. I’d never tie a girl down with my huge bag of problems, but I’d like to be her friend, to give her whatever she wants in exchange for something I need.

To feel again…I can’t explain it. It’s like being thrown a life raft when you’re one gulp away from drowning to death. And all I want is to feel human.

I want to feel alive.

That’s all.

“Which photo did you take?” Cassia asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

I forgot I was in her room, half naked and hard as fuck. I almost had her. I almost got what I wanted…but nature intervened, saving her soul from an unimaginable sin.

“You’re wearing overalls, your hair is piled in a messy bun on the top of your head, and there’s paint all over your face.”

She snorts. “And that’s attractive to you?”

I shrug. “They’re all attractive.”

The one I chose isn’t for me to jerk my cock to. This one is medicine for my dark soul.

An antidepressant.

Free Prozac.

“Can I ask you a question?”

I bristle, swallowing hard. Turning my head, our eyes lock and my mind instantly jumps to Penelope, my sister. She probably already knows about her, my mom too. I hate that I still haven’t mastered my mask of indifference for when conversation turns to them.

“Do you think my parents smother me?”

I let out air from my lungs, air I didn’t know I was holding. I’d answer just about any question so long as it doesn’t relate to the day Penelope was abducted and I was powerless to stop it. Or the day my mother slit her wrists in the kitchen.

So much blood…

“What do you think?” I ask her.

Cassia’s perfectly shaped eyebrows pull together. “You can’t answer a question with another question.”

Really? That’s a bullshit rule. I run my tongue along my teeth and swipe at my head. I can tell her what I truly think, right? I mean, she’s asking for it…

“Yes. I think they smother you. Your mom is pathetic and your dad is an asshole. I hate that they treat you like a child and I think it’s wrong when they use the fear of God against you.” I swallow hard. “I think you’d be much happier without them in your life. Satisfied?”

Cassia shifts uncomfortably, her stare flicking to her thighs. “Yes. Thank you.”

I exhale. It’s admirable that Cassia loves her parents, but it’s such a fucking waste of life. They don’t deserve shit.

“I got you something.” I announce, shifting my leg so I can reach into my back pocket.

Reluctantly, and a little cautiously, Cassia turns her head in my direction, her blue eyes watching curiously. From my pocket, I pull out the three and a half inch touch screen cellphone I bought for her two days ago. It’s slim and white, and its camera is pretty decent for a phone its size. In the right light it should capture her pink nipples perfectly.

I extend it to her and she frowns.

“What do you want me to do with that?”

I smirk. “It’s for you.”

Her eyes widen, her mouth curling into a perfect circle as she splutters, “Oh, no. No. No. Thank you, but no. I’m not accepting that.”

“I got it for you, Cass. Brand new. I mean, I opened it to set it up and I forgot to bring the charger, but I’m sure you have a cable for it around here somewhere.”

Pulling away from me, Cassia tucks her hands into her armpits. “I can’t take it. My parents will kill me if they knew I had it.”

I laugh, once. The problem is so simple it’s barely a problem at all.

“So don’t tell them.”

“That’s lying.”

“You’d be guilty by omission—a completely different thing.”

Kind of.

“Um…no, it isn’t.”

“Just take it, Cass.” I toss the phone by her feet and it’s lost in a fold of fabric. “Keep it out of sight and you’ll be fine.”

“And what do you want me to do with it exactly?”

I cock my head, pretending that all of the naughty scenarios that play out in my mind don’t exist. “What makes you think I want you to do anything with it?”

“Oh, please. You’re vulgar, dirty minded, and constantly propositioning me for sex.” A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of her supple lips. “There’s a camera on that phone, Caleb, and I’m not taking naked photos of myself for anybody.”

I chuckle, rolling onto my side. “Aren’t you a buzzkill? I’d take photos of myself naked for you.”

Laughing, she shuffles closer, angling her soft, fit body in my direction. “I believe you.”

Reaching out, I gently swipe at a loose lock of blonde hair that has freed itself from her messy bun and rests against her shoulder.

“All I want is for you to stay in contact with me.”

Cassia leans forward, releasing her hands from underneath her armpits. “That’s all?”

My stomach clenches as the tips of her fingers brush against my abs. She tugs on the hem and I gladly move closer, until her generous bust is pressing firmly against my chest.

“I suppose the occasional nudie pic won’t kill you.”

Cassia chuckles and it’s a beautiful sound. I moisten my lips, desperate to get even closer, and slip my leg between hers. She smells divine, like fucking cotton candy and buttered popcorn.

“You’re not good for me, Caleb.” She mutters, grazing her lips against mine.

The slightest touch and the heavens above open up, its thick bolts of lightning hitting my body over and over, each strike more powerful than the last. It feels amazing. It’s…overpowering. I swallow it down as a visceral need grows deep in my chest, a result of the sensations she provokes in me. It’s torture holding myself back from ripping the fabric off her body. My last sexual encounter was a blow job in my father’s office…I can’t even remember the last time I slipped between the thighs of a woman.

I want it…

I want this woman…

“Why does that keep happening?” Cassia whispers, her blue stare flicking between my eyes.

I blink. Did I space out? I must have.

Her lips are wet and swollen, pink with a satisfying kiss. Damn. I missed it. I don’t miss the look of concern in her gaze though. It annoys the hell out of me.

“What?” I bite out.

“Your eyes…why does all of the color randomly sink into a pool of oil?”

I clench my jaw. Because I don’t work properly.

Because sex overwhelms me, like a crack addict who is long overdue for a hit and finally tastes the sweet nectar on the tip of his tongue.

As soon as it makes contact “it” takes me over. The desperate need to feel something—anything—is probably why I indulge so heavily in sex.

I clear my throat, pulling back from her. This isn’t a conversation I want to have with her right now. This isn’t a conversation I want to have with her ever. I’m dealing with it on my own and I have for eleven years now. I can’t stomach the thought of people feeling sorry for me. After I found my mother dead, sitting in a pool of her own blood in our kitchen, I was sent to a therapist, someone my father paid to make sure I wasn’t mentally scarred. I hated every second of it…the way her beady, green eyes would watch me. The way her slender fingers slid against her pen as she jotted down notes I knew I’d never read. I hated her sympathy and detested her comfort. The way I see it is, shit happens, you move on. You find reasons to keep going until you run out. If the thought of leaving Dad here all alone didn’t make me feel like shit, I’d have opted out years ago.

My insides deflate. A thick fist twists my stomach at the thought of answering her. To be honest, I’m tired. I don’t want to.

I exhale and kiss Cassia on the mouth. “See you at Bible study tomorrow.”

She shuffles forward. “What? You’re leaving?”

I swing my legs off the side of the bed and push myself to my feet. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

In the heavy silence, I cross the room.

“Was it something I said?” She asks.

I ignore her as I slip out onto the balcony. Cool air swoops into my lungs, the side effects of her slowly leaking from my pores as numbness prepares to settle in.

“Caleb? Your friend isn’t back yet. You’re going to leave without him?” Cassia saunters out onto the balcony behind me as I pull myself up onto the thick, stone railing.

“Drew’s a big boy. I’m sure he can handle himself.” I say as I slip my legs over the railing and let them hang.

It’s quiet in her yard, so quiet the silence is deafening in my ears.

Her one hundred and fifty foot backyard is empty. No hammocks. No trees. Not even a damn barbeque. Either her parents haven’t had the time to go and buy an outdoor setting from the store or they don’t care for outdoor activities. I assume it’s the latter.

The first half of the yard, the chunk closest to the house, is lit up by spotlights that are bolted to the roof. The other half of the sparse field is shrouded in darkness, hiding the small, brown fence I climbed in order to get into her yard. The fence separates her house from the small forest on the other side. The street adjacent to that is where I parked my car. I didn’t want to risk anyone seeing me—which Drew thought was hilarious. I admit I play on the edge consorting with girls from church, but getting caught is something I hope never comes to fruition…for my father’s sake, not mine.

“If I offended you—”

I laugh over my shoulder. “Cassia, relax. All right? I’m not your problem.”

“Funny.” She deadpans, a slight glare thinning her lids. “I’d say you are my only problem.”

I grimace. I guess she has a point. Still, I’m not stripping myself bare for her or anybody. Gripping the railing, I turn around and lower myself, holding my entire body weight with my arms. My biceps burn immediately. Fuck. How long has it been since I worked out?

I glance over my shoulder. I’m two feet away from the roof of a small garden shed. I swear the gap seemed smaller on the way up.

“Please don’t break your neck.”

I glance up at Cassia who leans over the railing, a playful, smug grin on her lips. Breaking my neck doesn’t sound half bad. I won’t have to man the church while Dad sits in the confession box tomorrow if I do.

“Do I get a kiss for the road?” I ask, pulling my body up in order to get closer to her.

She leans on her elbows. “You’re teasing me.”

I nod. “A little.”

Cassia bites back a smile she can’t stop as she stretches over the railing, craning her neck to meet me. She torments me with the briefest kiss. One that doesn’t leave tingles lingering on my lips.

“What, no tongue?”

“Can’t have you passing out and falling to your death.”

“You talk a big game, Cass.” I tell her, dropping myself onto the shed roof with a loud crash. It shakes momentarily, then stills. I breathe a sigh of relief. “Next time I see you, you better put your money where your mouth is.”

“My money?” She snorts. “You missed the perfect opportunity for a dirty pun. I’m disappointed in you, Caleb Andrews.”

Ha.

Since it’s not intimidatingly high, I jump off the tin roof of the garden shed and manage to land safely on my two feet without snapping an ankle. I exhale, flattening the palms of my hands down the front of my shirt.

“I didn’t miss the opportunity. I chose not to take it.” I look up at her, smirking. “I’m more than an incredible face with a good sense of humor, you know.”

Light hits her from behind, cloaking her face in darkness. “Right. You are also an honest, reliable, and selfless man who dedicates most of his time to the church and its people. You bend your knees in prayer every day, you never stray from the righteous path, and you enjoy giving to those in need whenever you can.”

I roll my eyes. Sarcastic ass. Wouldn’t that be nice? If the person I pretend to be at church is the exact person I am on the inside? Would I be happy if that were the case?

“You’re forgetting a few things.” I point out, stepping forward.

Cassia tips her head to the side. I wish I could see her face.

“And what are they?”

“I also cook, play the guitar, and enjoy long walks on the beach at sunset.”

Her giggle swirls through the night air as she leans forward on her elbows. “You play the guitar?”

“No.” I snort. “I’m being sarcastic.”

“Well, sarcasm aside, what do you like to do?”

I flick my tongue over my teeth. She’s good, I’ll give her that. The way she asks things in passing, playing them off as basic conversation. I don’t play the get to know you game…because, sooner or later, my hollowness will be exposed and I don’t want it to ruin the chemistry we have. That’s when I go from being Caleb, the mess of a Father’s son to Caleb, that poor, misunderstood guy.

A pity fuck instead of an epic one.

At the end of the day, I’d rather people hate me than have them feel sorry for me.

I turn away from her and start walking. It’s damn near impossible to do, especially now I have the taste of her flesh in my mouth. Her nipples were so freaking perfect.

“Thank you for the phone.” She calls out. “I’ll text you, but only if you promise to keep the dick pics to a minimum.”

“Damn.” I swing around, walking backwards. “You’re no fun, Cassia Claire.”

With a chuckle, she waves and I dip my head in response. After that, I’m facing the fence again and stalking toward it. I keep moving, forcing one foot in front of the other. Just my luck. The one night she’s alone at home without her parents breathing down her neck and I can’t even dip it in. I can’t relax or revel in her company because I’m afraid of her asking the wrong question. I’m afraid that she’ll tear down the barricade I’ve built for myself. The walls I built to hold in the demons of my past and I don’t know what the fuck will happen if they’re ever let out. I sure as hell ain’t game enough to find out.

 

****

 

The woods aren’t quiet…

It’s not a raccoon, a squirrel, or an owl that’s making the racket either—not unless they suddenly sound like a moaning woman.

I follow the trail of spilled popcorn, weaving around trees and dipping under low hanging branches. Twigs crunch underneath my boots as I make my way through the thicket toward my car. Unfortunately for me, it seems like my car is in the same direction as the noise. I cringe, staying vigilant. The last thing I want is to be blinded by Drew’s white ass and swinging testicles.

“And you wonder why I forgot your name, you pussy.” A female growls out, a cry of pleasure following the insult.

I spit out a laugh, shaking my head. Fiona is insane. I knew it the second I saw her. It’s the gleam in her eyes and the curve of her glossed lips. Beside Cassia, Fiona looks like the worst kind of trouble—the kind of trouble I’d dive into if it were under different circumstances. Her rack is nice and her waist is slim, but I’m on a blonde binge at the moment. Blonde hair, blue eyes, has the mouth of a sailor, and nipples that are rationed perfectly to her breast size.

You see, Fiona is the kind of girl you go for when all you want is to bang one out with no commitments. Cassia is the kind of girl you have to risk blue balls for. It may take a while, but when it happens, it’s like riding a fucking unicorn.

And I’m due for a unicorn.

Ahead, I see the clearing Drew and I walked through on the way to Cassia’s house. In the center of it, an old Chevy rusts away.

“Oh,” I stop walking. “What the fu…”

I see the white expanse of an ass first, peeping out of the grass. It’s a male ass, judging by the way shadows pool in the muscular dimples on the sides. The full moon is bright, lighting up the clearing like it’s the middle of the day.

Groaning, I lean up against the tall, thick tree to my left, bending my leg at the knee. Drew has my fucking car keys. He better not have lost them in the throes of fucking. He’s as naked as he was the day he was born.

I close my eyes as pleased moans bounce off the trees followed by sounds of whipping and squealing. I peer around the edge of the smooth, tree bark and over to Drew and Fiona.

“Whip me again, asshole!” Fiona demands.

Drew cocks his arm back and I squint to get a better look at what he has in his hand. It’s a damn stick—a thin, bendy stick with a single leaf at the base.

Natural BDSM for the organic mistress.

I chuckle to myself as I pull my own cell from my pocket. Cassia has to see this. I hit the camera tab and zoom in as best I can without blurring the image. I click my contact list and scroll until I see Cassia’s name—something I added after I set up her phone—and hit it. It ponders my connection before the little sent tick pops up. I smile to myself and lean up against the tree again. It doesn’t take long for me to get a response.

 

And here I was thinking the worst you could do was send me a picture of your penis…WHY?

C.

 

My lips curl as I read it, her expression forming perfectly in my head. I bet she’s staring at it, disgusted and confused. Or maybe I’m smiling because she actually texted me back. I respond to her message.

 

Ha. I can zoom in more if you want. Maybe get a ball shot?

 

An instant response. She’s a quick texter. I like that shit.

 

No. Dear God, no. Are you still watching?!

C.

 

I peer around the tree again and watch as they switch positions. Fiona climbs on top, her hoodie pulled up to expose her bare breasts. They’re nice.

I watch for a little while—until she does something to make Drew scream out in pain. Laughing under my breath, I glance down at my phone.

 

What else am I supposed to do? He has the keys. Also, you do know you don’t have to sign your texts with your initial, right? I already know it’s you.

 

Another quick reply lights up my phone.

 

Turn around. Gosh, give them some privacy & I know I don’t have to, but I like to. The letter ‘C’ is such a cute consonant.

C.

 

I smile. Why am I smiling? Because she called the letter ‘C’ cute? Fucking hell. What is wrong with me?

 

I’m not turning around. I’m having too much fun. Btw, your friend is into some pretty freaky shit.

 

It takes her a little longer to reply this time around.

 

…like what?

C.

 

If only you saw what I saw…she made Drew whip her with a stick and I’m pretty sure I just heard him beg her to stop twisting his nipples.

 

Another untimely response. I wonder what’s going through her—vvvvvvt. My phone vibrates in my palm and I can’t hit the open button quick enough.

 

Well…that’s something I can’t unread. Thanks for that.

C.

 

I grin.

 

Perhaps I should change the subject. Did you slip into something a little more comfortable after I left?

 

I add a bikini emoji for good measure, you know, since the makers refuse to get their shit together and add a thong one, despite how many times I’ve emailed them. The thong emoji isn’t the most important one on my list either. We don’t need a million different hearts, we need tacos, a fruit and/or vegetable that looks like a vagina, and a damn batman emoji. Where’s the priority? Where’s the justice?

Cassia responds quickly, the message timid and so fucking like her.

 

Caleb…are you trying to sext me?

 

She doesn’t sign her text off with her ridiculously cute little “C” and, believe it or not, it slightly disappoints me.

A giggle pulls my attention from my screen. Fiona and Drew scramble for their clothes.

Finally.

I tap the empty type box at the bottom of my screen and my keyboard pops up. Grinning, I push off the tree and saunter into the clearing.

“Caleb?” Drew calls out. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Before I acknowledge him, I tap the eggplant emoji a few times and send it to her.

Bitches love eggplant emojis.

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