Page 54 of Skin Deep

I need this emptiness inside of me to be filled.

Why am I not enough?

Using the palm of my hand, I wiped underneath my eyes. Two tears had slipped down my cheeks, but I wanted to dry whatever was left. I was surrounded by sharks who scented the blood of the vulnerable. Tears were even better than blood.

Then I almost laughed again. I’d never cried over a man. Not even when Elias died. I was actually glad for the separation, thinking it was done. But the ghost of him haunted me. All the things he would say to me.

You are not enough.

I need more to keep me satisfied.

But I want you. I need you. You are the most beautiful person in the world.

But so is she and so is he, and together, you make a beautiful masterpiece for me to mold with my hands. You are finally…more.

And Harrison didn’t even want my breasts to be exposed to the world. Things that are made for, basically, milking. But he acted like that part of me was for him only. It was too much for the world to see, and enough of me that he wanted to keep secret.

From across the pool, he was looking at me with eyes that were on fire. Like I had betrayed him somehow. His jaw was tight. And the phone was clutched in his hand. If it would have been a weapon, maybe he would have pointed it at me.

How could he not see, though? How could he not see that I wanted him? Needed him? How could he not see what I had to do to make him realize—he was made for me? I didn’t even have to convince myself of this. That plain girl my cousin had married had done something beautiful for me. She had led him to me.

I hated her even more for it. Because Harrison had been right. She was beautiful in her own way, and she was deep. Deep enough for a man like him to fall into her one world.

All I had was this—me. The woman who reflected two faces.

A warm breath fanned over my neck, and a hand came around my waist. I hadn’t even heard him come up. Even though Harrison and I were not shouting at each other, it felt like we were.

The man whispered something in my ear in Italian. It was sexual, and when I went to step away, he held me even tighter.

“Let me go,” I said in the same language, trying to peel his fingers from my dress.

Even though I was vulnerable in some aspects of my life, protecting myself was not one of them. I’d have his balls in a blender if he didn’t let me go, or I didn’t mind pressing a gun to his head, either.

Before it got to that point, Harrison took the man by the suit jacket and dragged him toward the edge of the pool. The man had no idea what had even hit him. One minute he was on me; the next, he was dangling over a steep cliff. If his suit ripped, Harrison couldn’t grab him in time.

“Harrison,” I whispered, standing next to him. “Let him go.”

“You really want me to do that?” He refused to look at me. He was staring at the man.

“No!” The man had his eyes shut tight. He was afraid to open them. Sweat poured from his face and ran into the abyss below. Then he started speaking in rapid Italian, begging God and his mamma for help. He clutched Harrison’s hands, like that would stop his clothes from ripping.

Harrison had told me he was a criminal defense lawyer. For whom? I suddenly wondered. A man like my cousin?

I swallowed hard, because the entire party had come to a standstill, and all eyes were watching. If this man fell to his death, it would be all over the papers. There would be no way to cover this up. And I would. For him.

“You’ll remember this,” Harrison said, shaking the man. “You’ll remember this the next time you touch what doesn’t belong to you.”

The man cried and begged him in Italian to stop.

Harrison’s head turned a little. He shouted over his shoulder, “All you motherfuckers here better remember this! Take a fucking picture. Pass it around with my name. Harrison ‘Harry Boy’ Ryan. Because if any of you fuck with this woman next to me, it’ll be you instead of this piece of shit!”

He wasn’t wrong. Most of them had their cellphones out. He gave them enough time to take their pictures. Then I had to take a hurried step back. He’d lifted the man and flung him at my feet. Harrison looked me in the eyes once and turned away from me. He looked deranged, especially with the busted lip from the night before.

He cleared a path when he started to move toward the house.

“Get the fuck out!” He pointed toward the exit. “All of you. Get. The. Fuck. Out!”

The crowd started to move, but like they were walking on eggshells. He purposely put himself in the middle of it, so everyone had to move around him.

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