Madeline Sheehan - Unbeloved

He didn’t care. He was standing here naked, offering himself to what was essentially the property of one his brothers and yet . . . he didn’t care. To be this careless, to be this spontaneous, to be this free, I couldn’t comprehend it but I was certainly envious of it.

Memories of being with Hawk last night filled my consciousness, things I’d blacked out, reminding me of the way I’d been able to let myself go. There had been no unbearable anxiety, no crippling self-doubt, but most precious of all was the lack of expectations. I’d cried and I’d laughed, not thinking, just feeling. I’d needed, and in return, Hawk had given me what I’d needed.

My nails digging into his back, him grunting in pain as I dragged them across his skin, his body meeting mine, over and over again in loud, echoing slaps, he’d given me what I’d needed.

And then holding me tightly, he’d lifted me off the countertop and I’d found myself flat on my back on the floor behind the bar. The rigid bar mat, wet with spilled alcohol, dug uncomfortably into my skin. But I had little time to dwell on it as Hawk rose to his knees above me and lifted my legs, positioning them over his shoulders.

Then he’d taken me so hard, so fast, that I’d forgotten everything else—where I was, who I was, and most importantly, who I belonged to.

Giving me what I’d needed.

He’d made the whole world disappear.

Oh God, was I considering this? Being unfaithful to yet another man?

What had happened to me? The girl I’d once been never would have entertained this.

But the girl I’d been never would have married a man she didn’t love, she never would have taken up with a married man to fill a void inside herself. I was no longer that girl, filled with dreams of love. I was a woman now, whose mistakes and circumstances had forced her down a very different path. Who had time and time again chosen the wrong direction.

Once again I was at a fork in the road. If I chose right, I could remain faithful to Jase, forever waiting and watching from the sidelines. If I chose left, I could forge a new path, destination and consequences unknown.

“Stop thinkin’, D,” Hawk said, and I almost laughed. Stop thinking? It was like telling me to stop breathing.

“It’s real easy,” he continued. “You leave and Jase finds out. You stay, and Jase never has to know.”

And just like that, he’d made it easy. By taking away my choice, he’d made it easy.

I didn’t remember who moved first, all I knew was I was moving and he was moving and when we collided, it was a collision of mouths and groping hands, the ferocity of which I didn’t recognize. It was awkward at first, wildly different from anything else I’d experienced with Peter or Jase, but at the same time it was oddly filling. Frenzied, messy kisses and touches that were anything but gentle were filling me, replacing my anxiety with an overwhelming sense of desperation. Desperation for what, I didn’t know, only that I couldn’t stop. That I needed more.

More and more, until I felt myself capitulating, both mind and body, letting go entirely. When I grew weaker, his strong arms held me up. When my hands hesitated, his were sure and steady, and when I fell apart, he put me back together.

I had left Hawk’s bedroom on shaking, trembling legs, but feeling stronger than I had in a very long time.

After that day, I might have still been Jase’s secret, but then I too had a secret. And for some reason that secret had suddenly made all the difference in my world . . .

**•

So much wasted time I’d spent waiting on Jase, so many tears spilled in the wake of Jase’s lies, and then there was Hawk, always waiting in the shadows . . .

“You need somethin’ from me, baby?”

And, good God, those words. My chest would begin to heave with wildly exhilarated breaths, stripping my brain of basic reasoning skills, leaving me emotionally naked and vulnerable. Hawk might have forced his way in between Jase and me, but it had been my decision to keep him there as long as I had.

“Yes,” I would whisper. Because I always did. I needed something, someone, to count on for once in my life. Because I had always been forever lacking.

“What do you need?” he would always whisper back.

“You,” I would tell him. “I need you.”

With a heavy sigh, I lifted my head and pushed myself away from the door.

“I need you now,” I whispered to the door. “And I need you to be okay.”

Doubling back the way I came, I retook my place on the couch beside Tegen. After rearranging her legs so they once again rested atop mine, I leaned back against the couch and closed my eyes.

Once again I felt it, the odd and unwelcome sensation that everything was about to change. That my world was once again about to spin out of control, and as usual, I would be helpless to stop it.

But instead of fearing it, surprisingly . . . I welcomed it.

“Mmm,” I murmured, turning my face into the soft pillow beneath my head and inhaling deeply. I loved the smell of Jase’s aftershave. Understated, yet softly spicy¸ I could often be found sniffing around his face and neck.

Wait . . . what?

Jase’s aftershave?

I blinked against the pillow, feeling confused and disoriented.

Why in the world . . .

All at once my eyelids flew open as I scrambled into a sitting position, the sudden onslaught of sunlight streaming into the room through the partially open blinds jolting my mind back into conscious awareness. Looking wildly around the room, blinking rapidly, I tried to make sense of what was going on.

Wait . . . not only was I surrounded in Jase’s scent, but I was in Jase’s room!

How in the world . . . ? My gaze landed on Jase, seated on the floor, slumped against the wall and still sound asleep.

“Oh good God,” I muttered, flinging the covers off me, noting with relief that I was still fully dressed in yesterday’s jeans and sweatshirt. Being in this room again, near this man, was the very last thing I needed complicating my life at the moment.

To ensure the bed didn’t squeak, I climbed out as quietly as possible and began tiptoeing my way past Jase and toward the door.

“Dorothy.”

I froze, closing my eyes in dismay. Why? Why! Why couldn’t I ever catch a break? My mother had been right when she’d told me all those years ago that I’d been a disappointment not only to my family but to God as well. God must really and truly hate me.

Crossing my arms over my chest, an attempt at shielding myself from the emotional curveball Jase would surely fling at me, I turned to face him.

Standing only a few feet from me, he scrubbed a hand across his shadowed jaw and attempted an awkward smile. If he were anyone else, looking as disheveled as he did, his short hair a matted mess and in need of a good shave, I would have found him endearing. But he wasn’t anyone else, he was the one person on this earth I couldn’t stand to be around. His face, his body, everything about him was nothing but a painful reminder of the series of tragic events we’d set into motion by simply being together.

“We found you and Tegen sleepin’ on the couch,” he explained, nodding toward his bed. “Cage took her to his room and I just couldn’t let you sleep out there. Gets fuckin’ cold in the middle of the night.”

I nodded briskly. “Thank you.”

He dipped his head but said nothing, just continued to stand there, regarding me in that god-awful needy way he always did.

“Okay,” I said. “Well, uh, thanks—”

“Do you love him?”

My eyes rounded with surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Hawk,” he said. “You were sayin’ his name in your sleep.”

I felt my face heat, flushing with both anger and embarrassment. “That is none of your business!” I whispered harshly.

“How is it none of my business?” he demanded. “You were mine, I thought that baby was mine! It was MY FUCKIN’ BUSINESS! And I get it, I fucked up, and I deserved everything that was tossed my way because of it but, god-fuckin’-dammit, it’s been seven years. You got your fuckin’ memory back, and you still can’t say more than two words to me!”

Startled, I took a small step back. Jase’s mood swings had always been unpredictable, but since my injury and my refusal to have anything to do with him, he was downright manic at times, especially when he overindulged in alcohol, which made his temper even worse.

“It’s been seven fuckin’ years, Dorothy!” he repeated. “And you owe me a goddamn explanation!”

My shock bled quickly into anger. “I don’t owe you a damn thing,” I said, seething.

Nostrils flaring, he took a deliberate step toward me. Despite wanting to flee the room, to run from him, I held my ground.

“But you owe him something?” he gritted out. “Why? Why would you come back for him? Why is he any different from me?”

“What is wrong with you?” I cried. “You’re so selfish, Jason! With everything that’s going on right now, you’re still only thinking about you, you, YOU!”

I spun away from him and reached for the door. My fingertips had just barely brushed the knob when I was crushed from behind, Jase’s body pressing up against me, forcing me to flatten uncomfortably against the door. Lowering his head, he buried his face deeply into my hair.

“Do you love him?” His words were spoken softly, his breath warm and familiar against the back of my neck. As he inhaled deeply, purposely breathing me in, I shivered against the sudden onslaught of feelings that were dangerously close to erupting.