Page 50 of Creep
“Come on, baby, this way.” He gestures behind him all willy-nilly. I grunt in annoyance, but begin to follow him anyway.What choice do I have?
Once he sees me trailing him, he turns back around and begins making his way through the trees. He ducks and swerves around low hanging branches as we march further into their depth. It’s abundantly clear he knows where to move and when, most likely having traveled this very path a time or two. I don’t want to know why, so I keep my mouth shut and let him lead the way.
The sun shines bright through the gaps in the tree branches above us, highlighting the ground in random spots. It’s late August and you can tell with the sun beating down on top of us, even with the trees blocking most of it. It’s only around mid-morning and the breeze slightly blowing keeps me comfortable as we traipse through the dirt. Overall, it’s a beautiful fucking day out.
We walk in silence for I don’t even know how long before he breaks it by turning his head back to glance at me as he continues to walk forward, not missing a step or slowing down at all.
“I found this spot about a year after I bought this place. I stumbled upon it by accident, but ever since then, I come here at least once a week. It’s my happy place.” He murmurs the last statement, probably because he didn’t want me to hear it, but I did anyway.
I’m about to ask him what he means, but before I do, we step out into a break in the trees—right into the middle of a field of poppies. My breath catches in my lungs as I stare out at the small, but plentiful field of red-orange flowers. It’s fucking stunning and I’m in awe. I don’t move forward because if I were to, I’d walk right into them and ruin them. So I remain still, the same as Vincent.
He stands right beside me as we both gaze forward, staring out into the field. It’s almost a perfect circle, surrounded entirely by trees. A little piece of paradise in the middle of hell.
Fitting for a man like Vincent.
I glance over and up at him, for some reason wanting to see the look on his face. He says this is his happy place and I want to see if it’s true. Vincent may be the master of the poker face, but lately, he’s becoming more comfortable around me and he lets his mask slip from its place more and more often. Whether it’s intentional or not, I’m not sure.
His face remains stoic as he stares forward, but I can see the calm in his eyes, the utter peace he feels being here. His arms hang limply by his sides and for some unknown reason, I slide my hand over his and interlock our fingers. He glances over to me in question, but I quickly turn my head from him and stare back out at the flowers.
I don’t want to explain myself, or even utter a word. I feel like the sound of our voices will shatter this blanket of peace that has come over the both of us and I don’t want that.
We stand, hand in hand, neither of us moving or speaking a word. Just the sound of our light breathing floating into the air. After a long while, Vincent uses his grip on my hand in his to pull me to him. I fall against his chest and he brings his hand to my neck where the cut is. He runs his finger over the raised edges before glancing up at me. The look in his eyes gives me pause and my heart stutters inside of my chest from the intensity of his gaze. I mentally beg and plead with myself to look away, to move my hand from his, to do literallyanything, but it doesn’t work. I’m frozen in the magnetic pull of his gaze. His deep, chocolate brown eyes have me feeling like I’m fucking drowning the longer our eyes remain locked. He leans his head down, moving closer to my own. Keeping his eyes open, he brushes his lips lightly against mine. My heart stutters painfully at the intimacy of such a feather light kiss, but it’s enough to pull me from my daze.
I rip my eyes from his and take a step back, breaking the trance we had fallen in. My heart pounds against my ribs and my stomach twists into knots. The all too familiar feeling of guilt settles into the pit of my stomach and I suddenly feel queasy.
I attempt to wretch my hand from his, but he tightens his grip, refusing to let me go.
“I need to head back to the house, Vin. I don’t feel so good.” I peek up at him and see he’s guarding me with an intense gaze.
“Why?” he questions warily.
“I don’t know. Maybe because you wouldn’t let me eat before we went traipsing through the woods and now I’m even more hungry than before.” I shrug my shoulders, but I’m sure he can hear the sarcasm in my words.
Generally my defense mechanism is to fight whenever I become uncomfortable or my self-loathing comes to the forefront of my mind, but I don’t feel like fighting with him. My guilt is already bad enough and I don’t want to add to it.
Vincent clears his throat before slowly pulling his hand from mine. “Yeah, okay.” He mumbles before turning around and making his way to the house. I try to be annoyed with him and his sudden change in demeanor but I can’t. I know his sudden mood shift is because of my abruptness to leave his patch of paradise, but I need to get out of here and away from him.
I’m fucking suffocating.
I can roll with a lot of shit life throws my way. In fact, I can take the fucking punches and even throw some back. But dealing with his kindness is one thing I can’t handle. Hell and misery are all I have ever known and the fact he’s now showing me kindness and a side to him I can guarantee not many have seen before—if any—it scares the hell out of me. I don’t know how to deal or even process it.
Holley is the only one to ever show me love and kindness. She is all I have ever known. And now a different side of Vincent is coming out? A side which is the complete opposite of the one I’ve come to know?
Yeah.I need to get the fuck out of here.
24
Essa
Once we’re backat the house, Vincent heads straight to his room and slams the door behind him, the sound reverberating through the house. Sighing, I pull my Converse from my feet and place them side by side next to the door. I pull my long sleeves up my arms before glancing down and then immediately covering them back up.
Some days I’m okay with my scars, and some I’m not. Today just happens to be a day where I’m not.
I make my way into the kitchen to find something to eat when my phone vibrates in my pocket, startling me. I reach my hand into my jeans to pull it out and freeze when I see the name on the screen. I look right to the stairs to see if Vincent has decided to come back down, but he’s nowhere to be seen, so I flip the phone open and hit the answer key.
Pushing the phone to my ear, I whisper, “Give me a sec,” as I dash to the front door and dart outside, closing it behind me as quietly as I can. I turn and face the house. I keep my gaze locked on the staircase I can thankfully see clearly through the glass walls that make the house. My heart pounds and the sound of blood rushes through my ears. A “Hello” sounds through my ear and it’s enough for me to relax some. My shoulders lower slightly and I’m able to take a much needed deep breath before answering.
“Hey, sorry. I’m here,” I whisper, just in case.
