Page 63 of Cry For You

When Landon left, he did me a great favor by doing something I wouldn’t have done myself—that I flat-out refused to do. I just didn’t want to think about it anymore. I wanted to forget about everything and everyone. I just wanted to be left alone in the empty shell I called my body. Truly, it wasn’t my body anymore. It was a foreign object that I didn’t recognize—that I didn’t want.

Then my lawyer called, she wanted to see me, and there was suddenly a flicker of something. A feeling of anger. The only reason I would leave my house that or any day, besides to see my therapist. I walked into her small office void of emotion, except for fear and the backbreaking anxiety I carried every single moment, wherever I went. Wrapped in two layers of thick, bulky sweaters and sweatpants, dressed in black, head to toe.

She looked at me with her usual smile. Neat, fresh and clean, professional yet welcoming, like a friend you haven’t seen for a while. Just her, comfortable in her own skin. I wondered if I would ever be that way again. Would I ever stop crying for the life I had, and everything I’ve lost? Looking at her, I was ready to cry, to turn around and leave. She was a painful reminder of why I had to be here, and why I didn’t want to be.

I could see the minute she sensed I was going to be a major flight risk. She pulled out a chair for me in front of her desk, and said, “It’s good to see you, Lacey. Please, sit down.” She looked in my eyes, unwavering, waiting for me like she had all the time in the world. Which she didn’t. She was court-appointed.

Some of my anxiety subsided at her calm demeanor. I sensed I had nothing to really fear from her. Sighing heavily, I sat. She smiled brighter and sat at her desk. I didn’t have much to offer, so I waited to hear what she had to say. She was no nonsense, cutting right to the chase. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant, Lacey?” At that, I looked away, not wanting to go through this, not wanting to hear this.

Like a zombie, I went mute. I put her on mute, trying to shut her out. That wasn’t in her plans. She didn’t care. Kept right on talking, while I went numb, shaking inside, while she went on about Landon telling her about the pregnancy, telling her that it wasn’t his child but the child of a monster he didn’t want anything to do with. Those weren’t her words, but that’s what I heard.

On the verge of a major breakdown, tears running out my eyes, I shook my head for her to stop. I didn’t want to go through this. There wasn’t going to be a case, because the evidence was weak. We could go to trial, but wouldn’t be assured of a conviction. Then she said, “I’m not going to stop, Lacey. This pregnancy changes everything. It’s more than your words against his. We got him—the element of surprise. We have the proof.”

“No, we don’t. What if he changes his story, what then? Then I’m a liar, and still a slut. I’m still the girl lusting after the god, with everything to lose. I’m still the girl who wanted a piece of it: his popularity, money, family name. The girl with nothing, against the guy with everything.” I snicker. “Why would he throw it all away when he could have any girl he wanted? Right?”

“Wrong, Lacey. You’re the girl who is going to help me put a rapist behind bars, so he can’t hurt anyone else. You’re the girl who can do that. You have more power than you think. Lacey, do you know, in this state, if you keep this child he has rights as a father, even if he gets convicted?”

“What are you talking about? How can that be possible?” I look at her relaxed, cool demeanor, astonished beyond belief.

“It is. He’s the father. He has rights. Simple as that, it’s the law.”

Just like that, there was a flicker. A flicker of rage and hate. I couldn’t fathom what she was telling me. After the atrocity and shame, savagely brutalizing me, stealing my dignity and my choices as a woman—as a human being—she was telling me he had rights! The only right he should have is to be put in jail for the rest of his fucking life.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do about this child inside of me,” I say with venom, holding my hand to my chest, anger dripping from every word. “He is never going to get the chance to see it. I’m going to make sure with everything I have inside of me that it neverhappens.”

“And I’m going to help you.”

Yes, that was the day the feelings that were numb and locked inside of me came to life.

I smooth my hand across his chest in the early dawn, knowing it’s almost time for this to be over. He has to leave soon. I press my lip over his heart, where my name is scrolled. “Why did you never get rid of it?”

“Why would I?” His sleep-roughened voice rumbles through his chest, wakening my senses in a curl of sensual need. “I didn’t want to erase you from my life. It would be like erasing a part of my soul.”

He knows exactly what to say, as if he has a direct line leading straight to my heart. I shake my head. “You say these things—”

“That I mean.” He rakes his fingers through the hair at the back of my head, pulling my face closer to his. “I’ve never lied to you about my feelings for you. Why would I start now? No one has ever touched me like you do, Lacey.”

“That the truth?” I ask, feeling the answer in the direct line he has to my heart. He nods, kissing me tenderly, pulling my body half over his so I feel the rising need for me in his body.

Parting my thighs, I straddle his hips, deepening the kiss I can tell he wants to keep light and gentle, but I know he wants more as much as I do.

“Damn, Lace, are you sure?” he manages to get out against my lips. Instead of words, I let my hands and tongue do the talking. I swirl my tongue in his mouth with a slow, deep moan. Sliding my hand between us, I stroke him with firm, steady pulls until his hips rock up into my hand, groaning when my thumb inadvertently brushes the tip of his cock. I do it again, sliding over the swollen head that’s pressing against the tight squeeze of my fingers.

“Fuck, Lace. I need to hear your words. I need words, or I’m going to blow in your hand and embarrass the shit out of myself.”

I smile, cock in hand, brushing the damp, swollen lips between my thighs against him, reveling in his reaction. “I’m sure I want to feel you, Landon. I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

“So wet...ride me, Lace.”

“Yes...” My hips gyrate, pressed against his balls make him slick with my wetness.

“Make me feel even better.”

“Yes...”

Hands on my hips, he helps me raise up, sliding between my folds, coating his shaft from base to tip before entering me. He sucks in a sharp breath as I sink down, assisted by his hand, a slow slide of pleasure that has me biting my lip, closing my eyes on an exhale.

“Lacey baby, I need to feel all of you. Every single part of you,” he demands, sitting up, rocking into me. Our entire bodies are intertwined: mouths, tongues, hands, the sighs and moans mingling, edging us closer to a release I couldn’t have imagined feeling again until this night happened. The love of my entire existence rocking me to my core, leaving my body aching to be filled as he pulls out. A sweet torment only he could provide, releasing me from lingering self-doubt. Tender kisses and the slide of his body through me, making us an inseparable one, culminate in a shattering, fulfilled release.

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