Chapter 14
Dancer
I had to stay in the hospital for three days. Worse, they wouldn’t let me out of the damned place until I agreed to outpatient therapy. It was a bunch of crap, but I agreed to it. Hell, I would have agreed to anything if it got me the fuck out of there.
My brothers are trying really hard not to ask questions about the accident. It would be comical really, if we weren’t dealing with my life. Well, all of them except for Dragon are avoiding it. Dragon has been really quiet. I find him watching me at times with this look on his face and I have a feeling he knows more than the rest. I’m not sure how that makes me feel. In the end, I guess I’m not much better than my brothers, because I’m ignoring the issue with Dragon. Fuck, I don’t even know what I would say to him anyway.
The next problem is Carrie. I made the decision to grab her up without thinking it through. She spent every day with me in the hospital. It was both heaven and hell. I loved having her close. I loved touching her, kissing her and having my brothers know she’s mine. A sad part of me figures I look a lot less pathetic in their eyes having Carrie as my old lady.
That’s where the good part ends. The thought of any type of relationship with Carrie scares the fuck out of me. Once I got out of the hospital the touching, kissing and fuck just everything has gone to hell.
My brothers moved my stuff into the small house with Carrie. I thought that was good. Yet, now that we’re here together, basically living together as a couple? It feels anything but good. It feels like the walls are holding me in? How fucked up is it to want someone, but panic constantly once you have them. I can’t even understand my own mind these days.
I think I’m doing better at hiding my reactions from Carrie. I don’t want to hurt her and the thought of her leaving me, sends me into a deeper panic. My brain feels like it never shuts off anymore. I didn’t mind playing house when I thought Bull would be here. I liked the idea of flaunting Carrie’s need for me in my brother’s face. It gives me a perverse thrill. Only, Bull isn’t here. So for the last week I’ve found myself playing house with a woman I want in my bed, but afraid to touch. We’re living some kind of sad, perverse, platonic relationship. Something is going to have to give soon, I realize it.
I should walk away, a huge part of me is even demanding it. My brain just keeps playing Russian roulette with my memories and sooner or later the wrong one will escape and take…everything.
I’ve been sitting in my room for the last hour, alone, listening to the silence and hating every last minute of it. I lied to Carrie and told her I had a headache. She thinks I’m just turning in early. Lying to her is so easy. I guess because I do it daily. She thinks I’m seeing a therapist the hospital set me up with. I’m not. She thinks I’m suffering from side effects of almost drowning, I’m not. The list goes on and on. The biggest lie of all is that I’m just not able to make love with her. That’s what she calls it, making love. I do not do love. I have sex. Sex that is down and dirty, hard and raw, and not made for a virgin.
I was stupid thinking I could do this. I can’t. I am not what Carrie needs. It is time I face the facts, as much as I want Carrie, I will never be the type of man she needs or wants.
Decision made I walk in the living room, intent on going out finding a bottle and maybe pussy. I haven’t gone this long without pussy since I got out of hell. This is the best decision for all of us. Carrie needs more than I can give her.
I find her lying on the sofa, sound asleep.
“Jacob?” She questions, her voice full of sleep and sounding so fucking sweet my teeth hurt.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing?” She asks with a yawn sitting up. I watch as she yawns again and subtly shifts her body in a stretch. My dick instantly stands up and takes notice. Son of a bitch.
“Thinking about heading down to the club for a beer,” I say and it’s the truth absolutely, I’m just not mentioning what else I’ll be looking for when I get there.
This strange looks comes over Carrie’s face. Her green eyes flash at me and her face pales. Apparently I didn’t need to tell her what else I’d be looking for, I’m getting the impression she definitely knows.
“I see,” she says quietly, not looking at me.
I swallow the excuses that want breath. I resent that I’m feeling guilty about going out and getting laid. When did I become a man who answers to a woman I haven’t even had my hands on in a week?
“Where are you going?” I ask when she walks from the room.
She doesn’t answer. I follow her into her bedroom. I watch as she goes to the closet and pulls out a duffle bag. Placing it on the bed, she takes clothes from the old wooden chest across from the bed and puts them in it.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask and I’m trying to ignore the panic that I feel.
“I’m going to leave.”
This should make me feel better right? It doesn’t. Fuck, it fills me with terror.
“You can’t. Drag said someone was trying to kill you.”
“Haven’t heard anything in way over a couple of months. I can’t keep putting my life on hold. I’m going to move in with my friend Tammie. No one knows her, I doubt whoever it is will find me.”
“I’ve never met a Tammie,” I say trying to breathe because it feels like my heart is beating so fast I’m going to stroke out.
“That’s because she lives in another state.”
Just like that, the panic increases. Carrie moving out is bad. Carrie somewhere I don’t know? Carrie somewhere without protection? Oh hell no. No. Just, no.
“Since we have no idea who the hell is after you, you could be playing right into their hands,” I say trying to direct the conversation back to why she shouldn’t leave.
“Yeah well, living like this isn’t changing anything either and I’m tired.”
I walk over and dump her clothes back on the bed, because with each thing she adds I feel fear course through me stronger. She can’t go.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” She asks and the anger in her voice is sexy. Fuck, it is sexy as hell.
“You’re not leaving.”
She’s not. Fuck, I can’t handle this. I need to call Dragon. He’ll talk some sense into her. I have no idea how to deal with women.
“I am. I don’t know what kind of game you are playing, but I’m done.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play stupid Jacob, I might be younger than you, but I’m not an idiot.”
“I have no idea…”
“Then you’re a liar to yourself and me,” she growls and throws her clothes back in the case.
Her red hair is bouncing along her shoulders, her voice is filled with anger, her face is flushed and I have the strongest urge to get on my knees and beg her to help me. Beg her to stay and not give up.
“What has crawled up your ass?”
“What has? Oh my god! You know Jacob, I’ll take a lot from you. I have actually. That never made me feel stupid, until right now!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking…” I end with an umpf noise as I catch the bag of clothes she throws at my stomach.
“STOP LYING TO ME!”
I freeze. I’ve never seen Carrie this animated, this angry and outspoken.
“WHY? WHY, JACOB!?!?!?”
I drop the bag and stare at her.
“I am not cut out to be a monk.”
Her mouth opens and then this look of confusion goes over her face and she crosses her arms in front of her chest.
“Gee I would have never guessed that,” she says sarcastically. Somehow this new side of Carrie is just as sexy, if not sexier, than the old one. She’s not getting it though, so I soldier on.
“Right now, it’s taking all of the energy I have not to grab you and take the promise you have in your eyes and make it a reality. It is killing me. Killing me. We’re not sharing a bed, we’re not kissing, we’re not…fuck, we’re doing nothing. We’re not even holding hands. Living with you is requiring sainthood from me, Princess. I’m not a fucking saint.
“Who asked you to be, Jacob? It sure as heck wasn’t me!”
“See? Right there that’s what I’m saying. You can’t even cuss. You say the word heck for Christ’s sake! You’re too damned innocent for me.”
“Oh my god, Jacob! Everyone is a virgin at some point! Even you were!”
“Yeah, but it’s been a fuck of a long time, Carrie. It happened in a dirty alley with a hooker who was high enough not to mind giving a street kid a freebie.”
She jerks back and it is that moment I figure I have shown her just how wrong for her I am.
“What does that have to do with anything?” She asks, and now she just sounds thoroughly confused.
“You’re a virgin! A damned virgin, with stars in her eyes and what you want Princess, I’m not capable of giving you.”
“Fine then! I’ll just go out, get laid and then you can feel better about touching me? Would that work for you, Jacob Blake?”
“Damn it, Carrie…”
“Just save it. I wouldn’t believe anything you said at this point anyway.”
She delivers that last sentence and bends down to pick her bag back up. My hands go sweaty. Shit I don’t know how I feel about this. I don’t want her to leave. I’m terrified about what will happen if she stays. Fuck.
I make a split second decision. It may be a decision I live to regret. I just don’t know. I’m going completely by instinct and what I do know is that she can’t leave. If she leaves she’ll be in danger. I can’t deal with that. If she leaves I won’t even have the chance to touch her and I don’t want that. If she leaves there’s a very big chance that Bull will run after her and I can’t handle that at all.
“Wait…”
She stops, turns and looks at me. Her green eyes scan my face and I worry that she can see the doubt and indecision I’m feeling. Worse, will she see that a large part of me does not want to go there with her? What the fuck is wrong with me? Why is this so hard?
Because it’s Carrie.
Carrie means something. She always has.
When she doesn’t say anything, I force myself to try again.
“Carrie…”
“I am not anyone’s responsibility and I sure don’t want to be that to you,” her soft voice interrupts me.
She reminds me of a girl playing at being a woman. She is standing there telling me how she feels, but her posture is unsure, her voice way too soft for her words. I’m too old, too dark, too damned jaded to be anywhere around her. I want her, I want her in ways I’ve never wanted a woman. Fuck, I’m trying to do the right thing here, but I don’t want her to leave. The thought of her leaving fills me with this overwhelming emptiness.
“Damn it all Carrie, I do want you. Hell, I’ve always wanted you.”
I watch as her face lifts and her eyes seek mine yet again. I can see the hope flare before she taps it down. She’s so innocent and pure staring at me. Does she realize that her eyes are pure seduction? Does she have any clue the things I want to do to her sweet body? Maybe…. maybe I should show her.
“Jacob, I need you too,” she argues like she doesn’t understand why I keep pushing her away. She acts like it should be just so damned simple.
It’s not. It is anything but simple. The fact that she thinks it should be easy pisses me off.
“I should take what you keep offering. You owe me your innocence. You have no idea the fucking hell I have lived the last two years because of your naïve ass. You waltz into my life again after nearly destroying me and you think it should be easy to give you a piece of me? Fuck, I’ve had so many pieces of me torn away and it’s all your fucking fault, Princess.”
I regret instantly what I say. Apparently I haven’t got a good enough lock on my anger. I’m going back and forth so much, I am getting dizzy. Fuck. I swallow, because I know my words have wounded her. I know I shouldn’t have said it. I don’t even truly believe it. There’s just this huge rabid animal in me and I have no control over when it strikes out.
She looks at me with so much sadness, it seems to surround her. If there has been a more beautiful woman, I have not seen her. Her eyes look almost liquid.
Any minute now she is going to turn and run. I can’t even blame her. I wish I could gather my words back up and keep them from touching her, but I know that is impossible too. So I wait for her next move. Part of me is already feeling relief, but a larger part is grieving, it’s just further proof that my head is completely messed up.
What she says next? It shocks the hell out of me. I didn’t expect it.
“Then take my innocence. Take whatever you want. It’s yours, Jacob. It has always been yours, so take it. I’m yours.”
Carrie’s wearing a pale yellow sundress, looking young and untouched. This is who Carrie is. I love the dress on her. It reminds me of how innocent she is, while at the same time making me wonder what will happen once I dirty her up, and I do want to dirty her up. As confused as I am about taking this next step with Carrie, I at least know that.
I watch as she slides her dress off. She stands in front of me so fucking perfect, I want to scream.
I made a decision when I was in the hospital. I tried to go back on it, but there’s not a man strong enough to turn down what is before me right now. I’m not even sure why I’ve fought it this long. I haven’t been a better man in over two years.
Her words are brave, but her eyes falter and her arms cover her bra and breasts from my sight. I know I am in fact the biggest bastard ever born because I take pleasure in the way her hands shake.
I swallow, swearing I can taste her. Suddenly my mind clears, all I can see is Carrie and all I want is to touch her…to brand her. I want to fuck her so hard, for so long that anyone who comes after me will be a pale comparison. It’s all kinds of fucked-up, but it is how I feel.
“The bra now, Princess,” I say, my voice hoarse with need.
She fumbles with the clasp on the front of her bra and another thrill moves through me at seeing her hands shake. I like that she’s new to this, that her moves aren’t practiced. I especially like that I will be the first to taste her. The bra falls to the floor as her hand fumbles to keep her breasts hid. Even though she is shielding them from me, I can still see those pale creamy globes and I breathe easier. We’ve gone too far to turn back now. She will be mine.
Mine.