Page 23 of Losing a Piece of Me

“Nothing.”

Her brows pull up in confusion.

I close the distance between us again before continuing. “You forget how well I can read you. I know you. I know your soul. I know you build walls inside yourself to keep from being hurt. I know you run as soon as anything gets even a little bit tough. And I know what you were trying to do just now.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do, Striker?” The walls come up just a little higher. It radiates from her eyes and rings out in her voice.

“I thought you were letting this happen because you’re finally allowing yourself to feel how much you love me, how much I love you. But that’s not what you were doing at all, was it?” I pause to let her answer, but she doesn’t.

“You were allowing this so you didn’t have to feel. You were using me as an escape, and that’s not how this is going to go, sweetheart. I’m going to make you feel again, Lex. If it’s the last fucking thing I do, you are going to feel this.”

I move around her and get on the bike. She steps away as I kickstart it and then climbs on. She is clearly tense and uncomfortable, but seeing her like this pleases me in my angered state.

The ride back to her car is silent and filled with tension. Thank God we’re on my bike and all sounds are drowned out by the loud engine and the wind blowing in our ears, making it impossible to talk. I’m happy for the lack of conversation, it gives me time to calm down.

When I pull up to her car, she climbs off and gives me a longing look. I’m cold to her, I can’t help it. Right now, she just has me so pissed off that I can’t think straight. Somewhere inside of me, I know that this girl has a crack inside of her. She’s not broken, though, no matter how much she thinks she is. It’s just a crack, and I can fix a crack.

She turns away from me without a word and gets inside her car while I watch her in silence. She cranks it over a few times, but it finally starts. I make a mental note to check under her hood and see what the problem is, but keep my mouth shut. I’m still angry. I don’t take off until she has driven out of the parking lot.

Instead of going straight home, I cruise around for a little longer. I need to calm down, sleep won’t come easy when I’m this aggravated.

I’m even angry at myself for being angry. I know something is going on with her, I just don’t know what. It’s the same question I’ve wondered about since she left six years ago. What made her run?

She’s challenging me. She doesn’t know it, but she is. If I can’t get her walls down, I don’t deserve to be with her. It just means I have to try harder.

With that thought, I turn and head home. As I turn down my road, to my surprise, her silver-blue Prius is setting in my driveway. She’s outside of the car, leaning against the driver’s side door. I pull up next to her, shut the bike off, and dismount, watching her the whole time.

“You’re right. I was using you, and I’m sorry.”

When the last word leaves her lips, I rush at her. I pin her against the side of her car with her legs wrapped around me. My lips find hers and I taste her, I feel her, I’m completely wrapped up in her. Every last drop of my confused mix of emotions pours out through my kiss.

Her hands make a fist in my shirt, pulling and tugging, wanting it off of me. When I don’t budge to help her, she tries even harder, yanking the fabric until it tears.

The sound of the cloth ripping and the feeling of the cool night air against my skins causes something to snap inside of me. I have to have her. I don’t fucking care if she is using me to take the edge off of her pain. If that’s what she needs, that’s what I’ll give her.

With my hands cupping her ass, I walk us into the house, straight through the front door and up the stairs to the bedroom, where we both fall on the bed. I catch myself with one hand while the other remains on her.

Her legs are pulling me closer while her hands go to my belt buckle. Her nails dig into my stomach from her desperate attempts. I hike her dress up to her waist and pull at her panties. The fabric rips and tears away just as she has my jeans sliding down my ass.

Without warning, I thrust into her, filling her. She tightens around me and calls out. I pump into her hard and fast, grasping her hips to meet my movements.

I’m not taking this slow. This is fast and rough. This is a desperate attempt from an even more desperate man. I bare my soul to her. I’ll take her any way she lets me, because there is no other way.

Chapter 7

We run from the road and dart to the tree line while flashing red and blue lights follow close behind. I chuck the red spray paint over my shoulder as he takes my hand and pulls me behind him. Both of us are out of breath from laughing and running so fast, adrenaline coursing through our veins. Running from the cops always makes me feel alive.

It’s not like I killed someone, I just made our town’s sign a little more entertaining. I hear Barney yell behind us. “Murphy, Grant, I know that’s you. Hands in the air!”

We spur ourselves on, picking up speed. We run as far as our legs will carry us. Suddenly, Striker stops and holds his finger to his lips. We both freeze and listen, our ears detecting nothing but silence.

He gave up.

I let out a giggle and Striker picks me up, spinning me in the air. Our eyes lock and something is exchanged between the two of us.

We had just shared our first “real” kiss. Not a “try it out” kiss like when we were kids, but a kiss that was wanted by the both of us, not just me. I have been waiting years for this night. Waiting for him to want to kiss me.

He places one hand on the tree trunk and slowly backs me up against it. He’s still holding me, my legs are wrapped around him and I can feel his hardness.

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