Finding Alana Page 8

  I’m scared to let him see the scar again. Again. He’s seen it once already and he wasn’t scared of it. I take a deep breath as he slides my shirt up, just as slowly as when he removed my skirt. I close my eyes and swallow hard.

  My shirt inches closer to my face, and I stand stock-still as he lifts it off over my head. My nerves get the better of me, and I start to shake. He wraps his arms around me, preventing me from moving away from him. Then he makes soothing sounds, “Shhh. I’ve got you. We don’t have to do anything.”

  It’s almost alien when I hear myself say, “I want to; don’t stop.”

  He begins to kiss me from that tiny, tender place behind my ear, down my jawline to my neck. I have to steady myself by holding on to his waist. His hands explore every inch of my body from shoulders to hips. He kisses trails between my breasts down to my bellybutton. When he reaches my stomach, he kisses a path toward the scar. With a hand on the scar on my back, he kisses the scar on my stomach. My anxiety begins to ease when he says, “This wasn’t your fault.” He kisses the scar over and over again. Between each one he says, “You’re amazing. You’re a survivor. You’re a fighter. You’re beautiful.” Each phrase makes me cry a bit more. Not tears of anxiety or pain, but tears of relief. As if I’ve been forgiven for something I had no control over.

  I can’t resist any longer, and I tangle my fingers in his hair as I tug him away from my scar and back to my mouth. Salty tears fall on to our lips as I kiss him. He wipes my tears and saying, “Don’t cry.”

  I help him out of his clothes as he finishes removing mine. Kissing him might be my new favorite thing to do. I only stop long enough to crawl on to the bed with him. I’m desperate for him. Desperate to correct that night when I lost my mind and ruined everything. When he wraps himself around me, I push him over so I can be on top. He adjusts so he’s posed to enter me. I kiss him, shifting my hips against him, and he responds by pushing into me. He makes me feel overly full, and causes an ache deep down. It’s an ache I haven’t felt in a very long time. He knows and allows me a moment to adjust to the feeling before starting to move.

  He keeps his hands on my hips to steady me as he does. I’m lost in sensation. I moan with every movement. Sitting up to change the angle, his mouth captures my right nipple. He tugs, and a delicious searing ripple of pleasure moves through me. My back arches as a tightening builds deep down. Justin unleashes a delicious torture by moving to my left nipple.

  I hold his mouth to me by pulling on his hair. The tighter I hold, the more he thrusts his hips. He moves his hands from my hips to my waist, and then he rolls us so he’s on top of me. It all becomes too much as he repeatedly presses into me, and I cry out as an orgasm rips me apart. Soon, Justin follows me over the edge.

  He’s kissing me when he does, and I take all of his pleasure. It fills me in all the broken and cracked places, connecting us in a more intimate way than I thought possible. He stills and rests between my legs with his head on my chest. I just hold him until the shaking between us subsides.

  Neither of us wants to break the moment, but he shifts to spoon me from behind. His body heat is suffocating, and my mind is a jumbled mess. I want to move, but I’m afraid to let go.

  8 - Connection

  The next morning I wake up freezing. Stretching, I wave my hand around on the bed looking for Justin. I come up empty-handed. The thought that he left before I woke up is upsetting. I sit straight up and look around the room as if he will magically appear if I do. Frustrated, I get up to pee and he’s not in the bathroom either. I throw on an old sweatshirt and some boxer shorts. As I tie my hair up into a bun, I walk to the kitchen. The smell of coffee is calling to me. I’m startled when I make it to the kitchen because it’s not Kate making breakfast. It’s Justin. A shirtless Justin.

  For some reason, I can’t force my feet to move forward, and my arms are stuck in my hair as if I can no longer remember how to tie the rubber band. My mouth dries when he turns and says, “Good morning.” I want to return his happy greeting, but I can’t. He seems to realize I’m locked up because he sets down the bacon skillet, and pads over to me. He kisses me and whispers a repeated, “Good morning,” against my lips.

  “Mmm-morning,” I stammer.

  He smiles and returns to his duties in the kitchen. I take a seat at the breakfast bar and watch him work. When I gather my wits, I ask, “Did you sleep well?”

  “I did. Better than I have in a long time. How about you?”

  “Great.”

  He looks at me over his left shoulder. “Sarcasm? This early?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  Turning fully to face me, he asks, “Do what?”

  Waving my hands around the kitchen, but mainly at him. “This. The morning after. I’ve never…I don’t know.”

  “Feeling awkward?”

  I nod.

  “Why? I’ve seen you in the throes of pleasure, so you would think breakfast would be no big deal after that.”

  I groan and put my head down on folded arms across the counter. “See! That!”

  He laughs, “Calm down. It’s no big deal. No ties, remember?”

  “I know. But…what if Kate… Where is she anyway?” I stand and locate my purse to try and put hands on my phone. It takes a few minutes, but I find it and I don’t have any texts, missed calls, or messages.

  Concerned, Justin comes to stand behind me. “Everything okay?”

  “No. She didn’t call or text. And she didn’t come home. She usually lets me know where she’s gonna be. This is weird.”

  “Hmmm, let me check my phone.” He retrieves his phone from his jacket from the couch. As he walks back to me he says, “Everything is fine. Cameron met up with her last night and they are at my place.”

  “Oh! Thank God,” I say, relieved. “Wait! Is that a good thing? Is Cameron a gentleman?”

  Justin chuckles. “You met him, right? He’s a guy, and she’s gorgeous. I’m sure he treated her well, but you know what’s up.” He winks.

  I ponder it for a moment. “Yeah, I know what’s up, but he wouldn’t hurt her would he?”

  “Of course not!” he answers quickly.

  Justin finishes making me eggs, bacon, pancakes, and coffee. For some reason, I’m ravenous this morning, and I don’t even enjoy small talk over breakfast. No, I shovel it in like there’s no tomorrow. I think at one point I expressed my appreciation by gurgling, “Mmm, this is amazing,” between bites. When I’m nearly done with my food, I sit back to breathe, and I notice he’s watching me.

  “Enthusiastic, aren’t ya?” he observes.

  “Shut up. It’s your fault. Wore me out last night. I need to replenish my strength.”

  His look is all-consuming when he says, “Please let me know when you’re ready for me to ravage you again.”

  I nearly choke on my coffee. “Uh, will do. So what do you have planned for today?”

  He shrugs. “I left my weekend wide open. You decide.”

  I gape. “You mean we have the whole weekend together?”

  “If that’s what you want. Of course, if you want to send me packing, you can do that, too.”

  I think it over and decide I really like the idea of actually getting to know him. “Let’s do something fun. You decide what we do with the day, and I’ll decide what we do tonight.”

  His face seems perplexed, but very much onboard with this deal. “Okay. What do you have in mind for tonight?”

  Grinning ear-to-ear, I lean forward and tell him about Kate’s roller derby bout and suggest we go. “It’s hella fun! Plus, they have beer and food trucks.”

  He thinks for a moment, and it takes him so long I start to think he’s not okay with this idea. Finally, he says, “Okay a night of beer and debauchery it is. So for the day, we do something outdoors to earn our beer and nachos.”

  “Keep talking. What do you have in mind?”

  “We’re going to Cameron’s family cabin near Jackson. They have land, a
nd I can show you the trails we used to hike when we were growing up.”

  It sounds amazing. The win is spending the day with Justin. Maybe he’ll tell me why he’s not a cop anymore. I mean, I didn’t even know you could quit that profession. I’ve always thought it was the kind of career that ran in your blood. Once a cop, always a cop, right? Not knowing that bugs me.

  “It’s a date. First up, showers!”

  

  A couple hours later, we’re parking his truck in front of the cabin. It’s tiny; probably only a one bedroom and one bathroom. We packed a cooler with some lunch and drinks because Justin wasn’t sure if Cameron or his parents have the cabin stocked right now. Justin pulls the key out of fake rock and opens the door. I didn’t initially notice the rock because it was under a bush by the front steps. After the ride, we decide to start by relaxing and catching our breath.

  Justin sits on the couch with one leg up and one leg on the floor. I slide my jacket off and take a seat between his legs. Laying my head on his chest, he wraps his arms around me then kisses me on the head. I close my eyes and just enjoy the moment. Sitting in the silence with him is so necessary. I can start to appreciate the rhythm of his breathing and the timing of his heartbeat. My brain notes how his heartbeat coincides with my own. Not on the same timing, but complimentary.

  I think he starts to notice, too. Before we get so settled we forget about our hike, he says, “All right. Time to go. We’ll stay here forever if we don’t move.” I agree with him because the longer we sit here like this, the more I think about what else we could be doing. Amazing things—that’s what we could be doing.

  We both stand, put on our jackets, and then walk out the front door. He reaches for my hand as we descend the front steps. Hiking into the woods right by the driveway, we make it two hundred yards away when he says, “So, what is it you want to know?”

  I clear my throat. “Why aren’t you a cop anymore?”

  “Wow. You get right to it, don’t you? Being a cop was the only thing I ever wanted to do with my life. I was the one who did all the research and figured out how I could get both of us into the academy. Dude, we worked so hard. Cameron was always a thin kid, but he was never very athletic. We had to work hard and train every day so he could pass the physical part of the academy. The good thing was that we balanced each other, as we had for our whole lives. I could help him train he helped me study. Kid is a genius. Anyway, there was a situation. It affected me. There wasn’t anything I could do, and I couldn’t let it go. It eats, er, ate me alive. I quit when it became too much for me.”

  “What was it?”

  He stops walking and takes both of my hands in his. “I’m not sure I’m ready to tell you,” he says quietly.

  This makes me defensive. “I told you my story. It took a piece of my soul to do that. Is it worse than what I lived through?”

  He shakes his head. “No. But I don’t think you’ll find it coincidental either.”

  Furrowing my brow, I ask, “What are you talking about?” My blood pressure is rising as my heartbeat picks up. It’s a pounding in my ears. “Don’t panic. Hear him out. See what he means.”

  He leads me to a large rock in the clearing nearby and asks me to sit. He sighs and begins, “I’ve been debating whether or not to tell you any of this. I can see, now, you need to know. It’s a roadblock we have to hurdle. You trusted me, so I’m going to trust you. Let me finish telling you the story before you ask any questions, okay?”

  I nod.

  He starts to pace as he pulls his thoughts together. “So one night, I was off work and my buddy was having a poker night at his place. Dude was a total, cliché bachelor. He had a rundown trailer in the middle of nowhere. We played until well past midnight, and I was bit buzzed when we wrapped up. I was broke from losing all my money. I was anxious to get home, and fall in the bed. On my way home, I see a person stumble from the woods out on to the road. I have to swerve to miss them. I mean just came walking straight toward the truck with no regard for their own life. Waving one hand in the air and walking directly at me. I had to jump on brakes, and the wheels locked up, squealing as I stopped.”

  He looks at me, and studies my reaction before continuing. My heart continues to race, and despite the panic welling up in my brain as I’m piecing this together, I remain quiet.

  “I jump out of the truck, ready to rip into the guy’s ass for being so dumb. I’m in cop mode even though I’m off-duty. I went to the back of the truck, only when I do, the guy is gone. Right then I notice that the passenger door of the truck is open, and the guy has gotten inside. I run up and grab the door, only to see the person inside my truck is…”

  This is it. The blood in my veins is cold. I know what comes next, but I need him to say it.

  Justin stops pacing and squats in front of me, holding my hands. “… Is a woman. She’s bleeding a ton, and holding her stomach. Then she says ‘please help me.’ I lift the edge of her soaked shirt and see that she’s been shot. There’s a gaping wound right next to her hip.”

  Tears are pooling my eyes as he’s talking. I was that woman in his truck. He’s describing what happened to me. He’s retelling my nightmare.

  “I pulled off my flannel shirt and wadded it up under her hand to help staunch some of the bleeding. I drove like a maniac to get her to the hospital. I kept asking her who did this to her, but she was passed out cold. The only sounds she made when she would surface into consciousness were groans of pain or deep sobs. I used my cell to call a friend of mine who’s a nurse in the ER.

  “She had a team and a gurney at the ambulance drop off door when I pulled up. They scooped the woman out of my truck and rolled her away. My friend, Marcy, told me I reeked of beer and I needed to go home before my sergeant showed up to start the investigation.”

  Justin reaches up and wipes hot tears from my cheeks. I’m numb. I can barely tell I’m still sitting. My breathing is shallow as I try to fight the urge to run away from him.

  “I didn’t want to leave. I was going to come back and help investigate what happened to that woman. To me, it was clearly a domestic issue. You see, my mother died when I was a teenager. My stepfather was an abusive asshole, and she refused to leave. She always covered for him and made excuses. I knew the signs. I knew when I checked her wound. I knew because I saw all the bruises on her body. Her face was swollen across her cheeks. I know the signs of a backhand to the face.”

  Sobs wrack my body. This can’t be real. I can’t even look at him.

  “The next day, I called my sergeant to ask to be assigned to the case. He declined my request because of my background. He knew it was domestic, too. So, I went on my own to see if Marcy would help me find her so I could talk to her. Marcy tried, but you were gone.”

  When he says, “You were gone,” I snap and look at him. “What do you mean, I was gone?”

  He rubs his thumbs in circles over the backs of my hands as he holds them, “I think you know what I mean.”

  Everything has clicked into place. It all adds up. The safe feeling I have with him. I do know what he means, but my mind can’t comprehend how. How is it that Justin was there that night? Why was it him? Something he said about coincidence comes back to my mind and I mumble, “No, I guess it wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”

  He’s quiet when he asks, “Baby? Are you okay? What can I do?”

  Tears are still flowing down my cheeks, and I all I can do is shake my head. The word is barely audible when I say, “Nothing.”

  “Please,” he begs, “let me do something to help. I can’t stand to see you like this.”

  I sit frozen as I process what he’s just told me. I think through what he’s asking of me. What is it I need? How can he help me? Can I be helped? I’ve been alone with this secret for five years. I had to change my appearance and my identity. What I gave up I can never get back. I lost my child, my parents, my friends, and my life. Justin didn’t do this; Kent did. He stole m
y youth, my child, and my life.

  Will I let him steal this, too? As that realization dawns on me, I reach for Justin, and grab a handful of his jacket. I pull him to me, and he obliges by placing both knees fully on the ground where he’s been slightly kneeling. As he moves closer, I let go of his jacket and slide my hands around his shoulders and hold him to me. I squeeze him and crack wide open. Relief, heartache, memories, who I was, who I am, and who I will be collide in my shattered heart.

  Justin doesn’t say anything else, he just holds me until the sun begins to set and the tears subside. I’m not even sure I’m done crying, but I’m out of tears. My breathing is hitching, and I’m hiccupping as I try to find a way to settle down. In this one week, I have re-lived the worst moment of my life too many times. More than I have in the last five years.

  Together, we stand to head back to the cabin. Justin wraps me in his arms, and I lean on him to try and make the walk back. My body feels like it’s been through a hurricane, a tornado, or hit by a truck. Every step is a chore.

  When we reach the cabin, I sit numbly on the couch and Justin starts a fire. He pours us both a drink from the family stash in the kitchen and comes to sit with me. Robotically, I take a long drink. It burns and tingles in my arms all the way to my fingers. I take another drink and the tingles move into my feet. When the alcohol has the desired effect by calming me, I start asking questions.

  “Is this what you were researching when you went off the grid?”

  “Yes. Sort of. I was doing a background check on Kent.”

  “Why did you tell me? You could have kept it to yourself. I wouldn’t have ever known.”

  “You asked me why I’m not a cop anymore. It’s one of the biggest contributing factors,” he answers. “You wouldn’t have known it was me if I didn’t tell you, but I would know.”

  “Why would what happened to me make you quit?”

  He sighs deeply and says, “Because I couldn’t help you. Because what happened to you was very close to how I lost my mom. It was something I’d never fully dealt with, and here it was happening to someone else. Being a cop was supposed to allow me to help people, and I failed.”