“I’m broken.” My lips tremble. “I need to punish myself.” I say the words I’ve never told anyone else. My soul rips apart as he looks down at me and I can’t hide what I am from him.
“Pixie, let me hold you together,” he says against my lips, and gently kisses me. “Don’t hurt yourself anymore. I need you.” His words shock me. How can someone I just met feel so vital to me?
“I haven’t done it in a while. Whenever I get the urge, I touch the old scars and it helps,” I confess.
He kisses my forehead, each cheek, my nose, and then my lips again. He pulls away and kisses over every scar, licking them with his tongue, and instead of settling me like when I touch them myself does, I feel a fullness in my heart. A warmth I’ve never felt before. The need to be everything he needs overwhelms me.
“I promise if I feel the urge, I’ll tell you,” I whisper as he takes my lips in a kiss that makes my toes curl. His tongue touching every part of my mouth, sliding against my own tongue, dancing.
He pulls back and both of us are breathless. His cock is heavy and erect between us.
“Food,” he says as he pulls up, and my stomach growls.
I smile and hide my face away from him.
Something hits my legs and I look down to see a soft blue T-shirt. I slip it over my head and realize I don’t have any panties or clean underclothes.
“Come on, pixie.” He reaches out for me and I take his hand. The T-shirt is long and lands just above my knees, covering everything. We make our way downstairs and to the kitchen at the back of the house. He lifts me up onto the island, and I cringe when my butt hits the cold marble countertop. He smiles as he turns and starts going through cupboards and the fridge.
“I made sure everything was fully stocked last weekend when I was here,” I say, and he turns to look at me with a soft smile on his lips. I want that look on his face all the time. My heart thumps hard in my chest.
I watch as he prepares us omelets. No matter how many times I try to help him, he tells me to stay put. He hands me a plate with a large glass of milk, and I start eating. I didn’t realize how famished I was. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.
When I’m finished and he takes my plate away from me, I try to jump down but he blocks me in and pushes me back to lie on the island. He lifts up my borrowed T-shirt and proceeds to use his mouth on me before he thrusts inside me again.
He makes love to me right there in the kitchen, then a second round on the floor in the family room. I’m so sore now and worried that my conversation with him is too late in coming. He’s come inside me every time we’ve made love.
Now we are driving into town and I’m dressed in my jeans and clothes that we put through the wash before we left. He pulls up to the entrance of the Santa Claus Land of Lights, and I turn to him.
“Why are we here?”
“I haven’t done this in years, and I want to do it with you. You’re probably tired of seeing it, but where I live in Nevada there is no snow.”
“I haven’t gone through this since I was eleven.” I smile at him.
When we’d finally left the house, it was lightly snowing.
We drive through the twelve miles of Christmas lights laughing, and Coal stops to take my picture every so often in front of different exhibits. I’m looking at this crazy, weird town through different eyes for the first time ever. When we finish and get back on the road, he drives toward the shopping center and post office. He pulls up in front of the gallery where I saw him for the first time. It doesn’t feel like it was just yesterday. It feels like it was a lifetime ago.
“The first time I laid eyes on you was right here, pixie.”
“I was worried you were buying this place.”
“I own it now. It’s the only thing I have left of my mother. She loved art. She wasn’t very good at it, but she could sell and show it like it was nothing. This gallery is everything to me. I couldn’t sell it.”
“Your mother sounds like she was an amazing woman.”
“Come on.” He doesn’t say more but gets out of the SUV. I step out and walk to the front.
“Freak,” is yelled, and I turn to see a group of people I graduated with standing outside the Subway restaurant.
“Shut the fuck up,” Coal growls and starts walking toward them. I grab at his arm and pull him back.
“Ignore them,” I beg.
“No. Why do they call you that?” His eyes bore into mine. I want to tell him. I want to confess my sins. Why this thing between us can only be this weekend. Why I’m leaving this town and going where no one will know what I’ve done. But I can’t. The words are lodged in my throat.
“Please,” I say again as tears spring to my eyes. I know if he really wanted to get by me he could.
“Hey, Bridger,” a deep voice says from behind me.
Coal looks up and his body tenses. I turn around, keeping myself in front of him, and see the sheriff in his car. He looks at me and then across the parking lot to the group. Something crosses his face, and for a moment, I think it’s pity. But no one in this town has ever pitied me. After Leon had told everyone what I did, I became the freak. I became—I can’t even think the word. My body spasms in fear. Coal will leave me too when he finds out the truth.
“Hello, Kiera,” Sheriff Kullen says in a softer voice.
“Sheriff.” I nod at him.
“Hugh, is that you?” Coal says from behind me. He locks his arm around me and walks us toward the car. My body is tight against his, and the sheriff looks between us.
“Hey there,” they say and shake hands. I try to pull away from Coal and put that wall up between us that I need. It’s going to practically destroy me when he goes back to his life and I leave for Chicago.
“You and Kiera.” Sheriff Kullen chuckles. “Take care of her and keep those punks at bay,” he says, and I turn to look at him as Coal’s body tightens behind me.
“Why are they such jerks?” Coal demands an answer.
Sheriff Kullen looks at me, and I beg him with my eyes not to say anything. I can’t lose Coal yet.
“It’s just young adults being stupid assholes,” he says before he nods and pulls away from us.
“Hugh is the sheriff here?” Coal asks me.
“Yeah, he was voted in after his father died two years ago. He was hit by a drunk driver,” I say.
“You and Hugh know each other?”
“Only through work. I used to work at Denny’s as a server. He would come in.”
“Okay,” Coal says, and I feel the tension leave his body. He guides me up the stairs and into his mother’s gallery. I look around having never been in here. The dust covered mural on the wall calls to me and I walk over to it, my fingers lightly tracing it. Something about it feels special and I step back into Coal’s body.
“A friend of my mom’s did that. I think it was your mother. That’s why I brought you here,” he whispers against my ear. I look down in the corner and find the artist’s initials, MEJ. My body convulses and my knees buckle as I reach for it.
I cry out as the pain of seeing her work overtakes me.
“She was so talented. I took her away.” I sob as Coal holds me against his body. He slides down to the dirty floor holding me in his arms as I cry for a mother I never knew.