Alex walks my dad out of the kitchen.
I don’t recognize this place. Dark, polished furniture, a small, round table against a bay window, sleek, modern appliances, a checkered floor…
It must be our kitchen in Ohio.
I don’t like it. It’s so clinical. No food littering the counters, no music playing in the background, no pie baking in the oven.
The kitchen was always the heart of our home: alive with smells and sounds. Mom loved cooking, baking and experimenting with new recipes.
This kitchen is quiet. Sterile. A show-home decoration.
I swallow hard, glancing at Alex.
For the first time since my flashbacks started, I see him clearly. He’s older than I thought. Much older. I expected somebody in his twenties, but Alex must be nearing his forties.
Fine wrinkles surround his mouth, hinting that he’s smiled a lot in his youth. He’s wearing a beard, perfectly trimmed at the sides, his hair fresh and combed back.
He’s sharp. Rested. Curious as he stares after my father.
We’re at the table, the view out the window a blur, nothing but light, as if my mind doesn’t yet have enough information to show me the outside of my new home.
“How’s college, Hailey?” Alex asks, dragging his attention away from the door as he sips his coffee. “Made any friends?”
My stomach ties into elaborate knots when our eyes lock. It’s not an unpleasant feeling. Not like the dread that’s consumed me in other memories. This is excited nervousness. The kind that feels like butterflies flapping their wings in your stomach.
“Um, no, not yet.”
“Why is that? You’ve been here six months now.”
Six months… Dad said we moved at the end of summer, so this must be happening in spring.
“I don’t know… I’m not good at making friends.”
A sad smile twists his lips. He reaches across the table, covering my hand with his. “I know it’s hard, but you should start living your life again. Your mom would’ve wanted you to smile.”
Mom died in March which means I’ve been grieving for a year.
“I don’t have many reasons to smile. She’s not here, Dad’s almost never home, and I’m… alone.”
“That’s why you need someone in your life, Hailey.” He brushes the length of my thumb with his, making me blush. “You need a friend. Work is how Charlie’s coping with loss. He’s moving on, Hailey. So should you.” He tucks a loose strand of hair over my ear, gracing his fingers down my pink cheek. “How about you start small and get yourself out of these baggy clothes, hmm? You’d look pretty in a summer dress. I’d love to see you in something light.”
My heart skips, then beats faster, the infatuation growing. It’s echoed in the present for an entirely different reason.
I’m disappointed in myself because I changed for him. I wanted his attention, his acceptance.
That’s not how love should work.
I wonder how long it took before I started crushing on him. Was it at first sight? He’s not bad looking, but he’s not my type. I crushed on enough celebrities in high school to know my type and Alex doesn’t hit the mark by any definition.
Nash does.
Maybe it wasn’t instant. Maybe it was gradual. I fell for his personality, not his looks. Though given how vile he is in every other recollection, that doesn’t make sense, either.
When did he start touching me like this? It’s intimate, not how a friend should act. Especially a friend that’s twice my age.
Is that what drew me in? His age…?
He’s a completely different man in this memory to the others. Calm, happy, confident. Friendly and caring.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he continues, leaning back in his chair. He pulls out his wallet, dropping an AMEX card before me. “There’s a thousand dollars on here. Go to the mall today and spend it all on clothes. No black jeans, t-shirts, or hoodies. I want to see you in skirts and pretty blouses. Pastel colors. And while you’re at it, pick a nice dress to wear tonight.”
Tonight?”
“Yes. I’m throwing your father a surprise birthday party with a few friends from work.”
“But…” I stare at the AMEX card. “I can’t accept this, it’s—”
“Yes, you can. It’s my money and I choose how I spend it.” He takes my hand again, his eyes dropping to my lips and sending my pulse soaring. “And I want to spend it on you, sweetheart.”
My skin tingles at the endearment. It tingles back then and breaks me out in hives right now.
Heavy footsteps thump nearby, and Alex quickly retreats, nudging his chin at the card in an unspoken order to hide it.
I do just as Dad enters the kitchen.
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. The picture sways, distorts and I’m thrown into another place.
Alex stands before me in my room, slowly opening a white box tied with a black ribbon.
“Happy Birthday, Hailey,” he says, scrutinizing my face while I scrutinize the gift.
A pang of disappointment twists my gut.
It’s the silver heart pendant I’ve been toying with for weeks, thinking it came from Mom.
Alex grabs the delicate chain between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it out of the box and dangling it between us.
“Do you like it? I saw it at the jewelers and thought it’d suit you.”
Annoyance flushes my system. He saw a broken heart and thought of me?
In the memory, I reach out, examining the pendant from both sides, the floral design and the ridge zigzagging in the middle. I do exactly what I did at the hospital when the nurse gave it back to me—try to pry it open.
Alex smirks, letting go of the chain so it pools in my palm. “That won’t work.”
I meet his gaze, wondering both back then and right now why he chose that design. “It’s a broken heart. Why—”
“That’s what made me think of you.” He lifts his hand, tracing his knuckles down my cheek. “A broken heart for a girl with a broken heart.”
Tears spring to my eyes back then and the memory switches off as if someone clicked the red button on a TV remote. I’m back in my dorm room, hovering over my diary, a big, purple stain growing where the fineliner’s been pressed since the flashback hit.
A small smile curves my lips despite what I’ve seen. I much prefer calm memories to those that throw me into an anxious frenzy. I’m in the same position, my heartrate steady, no tears.
I grab the heart pendant, tearing the necklace off my neck in one hard tug, and rush to the window, flinging it wide open. But before I toss the necklace out, I pause…
What if he didn’t mean my heart was broken because he broke it? What if he meant it was broken because my mom died? Maybe that’s why the heart doesn’t open… because even though it’s broken, it’s still whole.
Exhaling a calming breath, I pull my suitcase out of the wardrobe, and hide the necklace in a small inside pocket. My neck feels bare without it, but I won’t touch it again until I know exactly why he bought it for me.
I spend the next hour detailing everything I saw, posing endless questions in the margins. I write, read, then write again.
Omitting the sexual abuse, I also write down the incidents I’ve kept in my head until now, focusing on the surroundings, Alex’s mood, and anything he said that wasn’t related to sucking his dick.
A pattern emerges.
Not just in those memories where he used me, but the previous ones too. At first I only saw his anger and impatience. He rushed through our time together like he couldn’t wait to leave, but the more I read and think, the more details I notice. Something much darker was buried behind the anger.
Deep-rooted, hair-raising fear and… guilt.
I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t seen this calm, happy Alex. Maybe he wasn’t such a monster… maybe somewhere along the way, things changed, and I became an outlet for that darker something.
Maybe we started off well.
It’d mean I didn’t lose myself completely while I was grieving my mother.
◆◆◆
It’s almost one in the morning when a rap at my door drags me out of sleep. I tried to stay awake, waiting for Nash, but I must’ve drifted off.
My energy levels haven’t been high for weeks. Matthews’ unexpected visit and what he said about Dad drained me completely. I suspected from the start that Dad didn’t only send me here to recover, but suspicion and confirmation are two different things.
Scrambling out of bed, I pad across the room, shuddering when my bare feet touch the cold floor. My knees almost buckle as I unlock the door. Nash is in gray tracksuit bottoms and a black t-shirt, his damp hair a feast for the senses.
Without waiting for an invitation, he steps in, stormy eyes scanning me from head to toe as always, but there’s something disturbing in his stance.
I instinctively draw back.
He closes the distance between us in two swift strides, taking my face in both hands before his mouth takes mine in a hungry, greedy, passionate kiss, so intense my toes curl.
He smells fresh, spicy, all red-blooded man. The tang of mint on his tongue wakes me up further as he deepens the kiss, my ass filling his strong hands as he lifts me off the floor.
“Hey,” I whisper, catching a breath when he sits on the bed, lowering me to straddle his lap. “You’ve been gone a long time.”
“My car broke down.”
“What ha—”
“Not important,” he clips, tension seizing his tone and muscles. “Tell me what your dad wanted.”
“It wasn’t my dad. He sent Officer Matthews.” I pinch my lips, wondering how much I trust Nash. Jonathan and Dad both said I shouldn’t trust anyone, but I’ve never felt safer than when Nash is close. I snatch Dad’s note off the bedside table. “Something bad is happening. They won’t tell me what, but I’m not here to heal… I’m here to hide.” I hand him the note. “Jonathan took me for a walk but—”
His eyes snap up, rendering me paralyzed and speechless. Little torches burn in his gaze, the passion gone, replaced by anger so potent he growls out the next question.
“How well do you know him, Hailey?”
“Um… quite well, apparently. Why are you mad?”
“Was someone else with you?”
I swallow hard, sensing where this is going. “No.”
“And where did you go with him?”
“Are you jealous? Nothing happened, Nash. He’s my dad’s age. We went for a walk through the forest—”
“You went for a walk through the forest with a man you don’t know.” He tosses the note aside, both hands grasping my hips, the intensity of his touch making me shiver. “You could’ve been hurt, lost…” He drags his hands up, cinching my waist. “You don’t know him. Why do you trust him?”
“Dad introduced us at the hospital. He trusts Matthews enough to send him here even though no one’s supposed to know where I am…” I steady my voice, feeling like a misbehaving child. “I’m okay, aren’t I?”
I drop my gaze and immediately grab his right hand, inspecting the scrapes on his knuckles. “What happened?”
“I told you my car broke down. I fixed it on the side of the road.” He tilts my chin back up. “Don’t change the subject. You were alone with Matthews in the forest. He could’ve hurt you and no one would’ve heard you scream.” He pinches my chin between two fingers, frustration evident in his squared shoulders. “Why are you so fucking reckless?”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing. What would you have me do? Tell him we’ll only talk with the dean present? He wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“Smarter, Hailey. You need to be smarter. Did you call your dad to check he sent him before you followed him blindly into the woods? Did you tell anyone where you were going?”
He’s got me there. I saw Dad’s note and checking with him didn’t cross my mind.
“You didn’t,” Nash huffs, massaging his temples.
“You’re overreacting.” I weave my fingers through his hair, resting my forehead against his. “I’m fine.”
Instead of arguing, he pushes a few breaths down his nose, his jaw ticking. “Don’t ever do that again.”
A smile breaks out across my lips. I can’t help it, no matter how hard I try to force my lips into a thin line.
“What’s so amusing, Hailey?”
“You’re not jealous… you’re worried about me.”
“I’m both, and much more, pretty girl. You’re mine.” He wipes my smile off with a dominating kiss. “I need to know you’re safe. Always.”
“Well, I’m not. Matthews didn’t explain, but he made it much clearer. Dad’s working like crazy to fix whatever’s wrong and get me home. I’m supposed to lay low and trust no one.”
“You trust me,” he states, sure of himself as he adjusts me in his lap. “You don’t seem that worried.”
I run both hands down my face. “Because it feels… impossible. Surreal. I know I should be scared, but I’m just confused. I don’t remember anything, and nobody will tell me what the fuck’s wrong.” My voice cracks, frustration taking over.
Nash immediately pulls me in closer. “They’re protecting you,” he coos. “Did you tell Matthews about me?”
My cheeks warm as I shake my head no. “He called me out over spending the night with someone, but agreed it’s not worth alarming Dad. He already ran background checks on everyone when he sent me here.”
His hands drift back to my waist. They’re so big, his fingers almost meet when he holds me. “Anything else? Any guesses what’s going on?”
“It has to have something to do with Alex…” I instinctively glance at my diary. “Turns out neither Dad nor Matthews knew we were dating. He’s… much older, maybe that’s why we snuck around.”
“I hate that he had you first.” Nash nudges my nose with his. “You should be shown off, not treated like a dirty secret.”
A whole swarm takes flight in my stomach. Thousands of fluttering wings, incomparable to what I felt looking at Alex in the memory earlier.
Nash is overwhelming. He dominates every ounce of my perception. I lean down to kiss his forehead, but he’s quicker. He tilts his head, taking my lips while pulling me even closer, the hunger in him returning with twice the potency.
The kiss deepens, evolves, and the atmosphere shifts, the heavy conversation morphing into lust.
“Say you’ll take better care of yourself,” he demands, moving his lips to suck and nibble my neck.
That’s enough to raise the temperature by a few degrees. I tilt my head, giving him better access and his soft kisses turn hotter, more sensual.
“I will…” I moan when he gently bites my earlobe. On instinct I grind into him, pleasant heat detonating in my chest when I find him hard. “I promise, I—oh.”
He grips my nape, steering my face the way he likes, the kiss hungrier by the second. “Again,” he orders, biting my lip. “Move, pretty girl. Show me what you want.”
A wildfire of pure need incinerates a path through me like it did last night. I use him, chasing the orgasm that presses in on me from all sides.
In between writing and reading, I couldn’t keep my mind from Nash and his head between my legs this morning. The possessiveness in his dark gaze, his thumbs spreading me wide, his skilled mouth driving me crazy…
He tears my nightdress off, groaning once I’m naked in his lap. “You not wearing panties at night is a fucking godsend.” His mouth comes down, teasing my breasts. “I’ll dive between your legs every morning and eat while you sleep.”
My imagination grabs the idea, showing me vivid pictures of my back bowing off the bed to an early-morning wake-up orgasm, finding Nash between my legs.
“Do it,” I whisper, pushing my nipple into his mouth when he inches away long enough to give the other breast the same treatment. I’m in love with his hot tongue and teeth sending electric shocks through my nerve endings. “Please.”
“Please what, Hailey? Please make me come? Please wake me up with your tongue? Please—”
“Please more,” I sigh. “I want more.”
The look in his eyes turns feral. So possessive, so starved it’s almost scary. He winds one hand around my butt, guiding my moves, but riding him isn’t enough anymore.
Not after his hot breath fanned my pussy.
If he can elicit that much pleasure with his mouth, I’m dying to know what he’ll do with his cock.
“How much more?” he asks.
“Everything.”
The world spins in a blur as he whips me up to drop me on the bed, hovering above me, still fully dressed. His t-shirt goes first. I almost rip it off his back between fierce kisses.
I’m stupid with the need to feel him. Blazing with desire. The world doesn’t exist while I reach to yank his tracksuit bottoms off. He doesn’t let me, pinning my hands far above my head.
“No, no, no,” I mutter, wrestling against his hold. “Please, I want—”
“I know what you want. You’ll get it, I promise, but it’ll be on my terms.”
He dips his head, kissing me slowly. The sudden change in tempo throws me off course. I want to thread my fingers through his hair so badly that I bite his lip, using it as a distraction to free one hand. Before he stops me, I tug his neck, pulling him closer, craving the heat of his body.
“Impatient little thing,” he tuts, letting go of my other wrist and getting up to grab his wallet.
A blue foil packet lands on the nightstand and Nash strips out of his clothes. My eyes immediately head south. I knew he was big when I got myself off on him last night, but I didn’t realize how big.
“That’s… definitely not a teenie weenie,” I mutter, a little scared now I’ve had a proper look.
Nash climbs back over me, tilting my head up and away from his hypnotic cock to focus on his brown irises instead.
“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” He smirks, palming that monster. “Scared it won’t fit?”
“No, just wondering if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”
“You won’t.” He reaches for the condom but this time it’s me catching his wrist.
“Can we…? I had a battery of tests done at the hospital, so I’m fine. I’m not on birth control, but… I want to feel you without it first. Just for a minute. Is that okay?”
He narrows his eyes like he’s considering something. “Yeah, we’re good, pretty girl.”
He grips my thighs, settling them over his, and takes my mouth in a kiss as he gets in position, coating the head of his cock in the slickness between my legs. I’m dripping, my body running a fever from nothing more than a few kisses.
“What the fuck have you done do me?” he whispers, a gentle shudder shaking his whole frame.
He’s as affected by me as I am by him.
My stomach cramps in anticipation, every part of me ready and impatient. I weave my fingers through his hair, tugging him down, desperate to feel him everywhere.
“Stop teasing,” I plead, my breaths coming out faster. “Please, baby… I need you.”
And as if that’s a spell, Nash gives me exactly what I want, slamming forward, balls-deep in one desperate thrust.
