Author: Cheryl McIntyre

It’s his hands—not his mouth that I want. I want his touch. I crave it.

My clit pulses against my fingers in blissful aftershocks. I blink my eyes open and try to calm my breathing. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to fantasize about a man like that.

***

My fridge is empty minus a package of string cheese and half a bottle of vodka.

I take one of the cheeses, leaving the refrigerator door open for light as I perch on the counter. I tear the plastic wrapper open slowly. Take a bite and wash it down with a large gulp of alcohol.

Sometimes I partake in a mundane task, like eating and drinking by myself in the middle of the night, and contemplate how I find the strength to go on each day. How haven’t I given up? Why do I bother to live when this is all I have to offer?

I haven’t been home in months. Every time my parents call, I send it straight to voicemail.

I’ve cut off all contact with the few friends I had left after the school divided over the rape. Some believed me. Some believed Garrett. Most didn’t give a shit either way.

I work from home, when I actually have work to do.

And I can’t have a real relationship with a man. I’ve resorted to banging my own hand to get off.

I’m pretty sure the only one who would be affected if I ceased to exist is my brother. But Joe’s strong. He’d be okay.

The thing is, I don’t have the strength to end my life. I have no desire to slit my wrists or OD on pills. I’m too tired. Too lazy. If I could just fade into nonexistence, that’d be perfect.

I swallow down more vodka. This is the closest I’ll ever come to disappearing.

Five

Link

I was a nervous wreck the first time I called Olivia. Not only was she my principal’s daughter, but she was also the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She was a year younger than me and attended a different school.

I quickly learned our age difference didn’t matter because she was a hell of a lot more mature than I was, and being at different schools just made seeing her that much sweeter.

As I put the phone to my ear that first time, I was so worried she wouldn’t remember who I was. But Livie put all my unease to rest as soon as she answered. I’ll never forget her words for as long as I live. “It’s about time you finally used my number. I was beginning to worry that you stumbled into The Lost Woods.”

It took me all of about three stunned seconds to realize she made a Zelda reference, which was cool as shit. And then a couple more to understand she did so because of my name. By the time my silence hit an uncomfortable level, I think I had fallen in love with her. An awkward, teenage love, but it was love all the same.

Not only did she remember my name, but she waited for my call. And on top of that, she knew video games. I was convinced she was an angel, sent to me from God.

I think girls just assume guys have a shit-ton of confidence and always know how to talk to them.

We don’t.

At least, I didn’t.

Not when it came to Livie. She was, hands down, the coolest female I knew. I was left a stuttering, bumbling idiot. It made her laugh, which I learned was actually a good thing. We had our first date that weekend—Batman at the local theater. We shared a Coke and held hands. After that we were inseparable. To this day, I don’t know how I got so lucky. Not just for the time I had with her, but because she loved me. Me. Of all the guys in the world. She was mine.

Now she’s gone.

Not once in four years has that gotten easier.

I sit behind my desk at the gym, staring unseeingly at the stack of papers in front of me. Some are bills. Some are client info that needs to be filed. Some are just junk that needs weeding out.

I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with this today. Or any day, for that matter. My existence is tied to one thing and one thing only.

Vengeance.

I roll away from the desk, scooping up the pile as I go. Augie and Joe are in the ring, sparring for fun before we open for the day. I slap my papers down on the mat. “Aug, I need a secretary,” I say. “Know anybody that might be interested in the job?”

Joe drops his guard, lowering his arm, and giving me his full attention. Augie, being the asshole that he is, takes full advantage of the distraction. He effectively nails Joe with a right hook, throwing the poor guy off balance. It’s a total dick move that has him stumbling into the ropes.

Augie claps his gloved hand down on Joe’s shoulder, chuckling around his mouth guard. “They teach that in the Marines?”

Joe spits his mouthpiece. “No, but they did teach us how to use a gun.”

Augie glances over his shoulder at me, smirking. “Never piss off a Marine.”

“Noted,” I reply.

“I might know someone,” Joe says as he climbs out of the ring. It takes me a second to realize he’s referring to my secretary question.

“Good. Get her in here today. I need this shit sorted.” I nod to the pile. “I’ll pay twelve an hour.”

“Pay me an extra twelve an hour and I’ll do it,” Augie says.

“Can’t,” I say as I begin backing toward the exit. “I have some shit to handle this week and I’m going to need you to pick up my slack around here.” I flip the open sign before pushing through the door.

“What? Where you going, man?” Augie calls. “You’ve been here ten minutes.”

“Errands.”

***

I find myself parked outside of Gregory Anthony’s insurance agency. I don’t know why I keep coming back, watching. Waiting for him to screw up. To give me an opportunity to kill him.

I don’t understand why I continue to torture myself when I know I can’t kill him.

But God, I want to.

I sit here, alone in my car, my eyes fixed on the front doors, and I just wait. And wait. The longer I sit here, the angrier I get. It just plays over and over in my head on a loop. He shouldn’t have this life. He shouldn’t be allowed to watch his daughter grow up. He shouldn’t be allowed to go home to his wife each night and make love to her.

I wonder, for probably the millionth time, what my life would be like right now had these men not ruined it. Olivia and I would be married. She’d be pregnant with our first child. A boy. Livie always wanted a little boy. She wanted him to have my eyes and smile. I secretly hoped that any children we had would look like her.

I imagine what she would look like with that pregnancy glow people refer to, and her belly rounded with life. I know she’d be absolutely gorgeous. She’d be happy. Nervous about being a first-time mom, but content. I laugh softly as I picture her nesting, cleaning everything in sight. And the shopping sprees she’d drag me on to prepare for our baby.

I close my eyes and try to take a breath. There’s a tight pain in my chest making it impossible. My shoulders shake as if I’m crying, but there are no tears. Not anymore. I’ve cried all I can cry.

My hand curls, forming a fist, and I bring it down swiftly into my chest. It forces the air from my lungs and I’m able to suck in a breath.

This agony is consuming me.

I’ve lost everything.

I have nothing.

Nothing to live for. Nothing to fight for.

Six

Rocky

I knew I would take the job as soon as Joe called to tell me about it. I knew that even if I wasn’t hurting for money, I still would have accepted it just to have the opportunity to be around Link.

Maybe it’s because he didn’t tell my brother about the night he found me receiving head from a stranger in a bar bathroom.

Maybe it’s because he’s trying to help women. Teaching them how to stop an attack before it happens. Before they can be broken.

Maybe it’s because he’s as broken as I am.

Whatever the reason, I’m drawn to him. Intrigued. Attracted. Curious.

Joe meets me at the door to the gym, pushing it open for me. He smiles, pleased I actually showed up.

“Hey,” he says. “You look nice.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear as I narrow my eyes. I put no extra effort into getting ready than I usually do. My brother’s buttering me up like a dinner roll and I don’t like it. He continues quickly before I can call him on it.

“You’ll basically be filing paperwork. Link didn’t give me any instructions, but I glanced through it. It looks like you’ll need to determine which bills need to be paid, which fees need to be collected, and toss the junk. Then I guess just keep up on it.”

I follow him to Link’s office. He nods his head to the desk. “You can work in here. Answer the phone if it rings. If you have any questions, just come find me.”

“Okay.” I pull the office chair out and plop myself down.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly, looking up at him. “I think I can handle this.”

He grins at me, his steady gaze exhuming pride. Nobody’s looked at me like that in a long time. It makes me uncomfortable. Like I won’t be able to do this. I’ll screw this up somehow and disappoint him.

“I need to get out there, but I’ll be close by.”

I nod, swallowing tightly. My eyes trail him to the door. When it shuts behind him, I blow out a long breath. I twist myself back and forth in the chair, glancing around the small room.

For obviously not being a simple man, Link has very simple taste when it comes to decorating. The desk—buried under stacks of file folders, slips of paper, and empty Styrofoam cups—is old, faded, and stained in water rings.

The chair cradling my ass is a dark cracked leather and undeniably comfortable.

There’s a calendar on the wall to the right of the desk, flipped to last month. I tug the pushpin out and fix it.

A few posters displaying famous boxers’ images align the other walls, but no personal photos.

Really, the only details I can determine about Link is that he’s unorganized and careless with his drinks.

The phone rings and I jump at the unexpected shrill sound. It’s been a while since I used a real phone with a base and receiver. Hell, it’s been years since I’ve heard the actual ring of a real phone.

I pick it up slowly, unsure how I should answer. “Um, Livie’s gym. Can I help you?”

“May I speak with Mr. Elliot, please?” a sweet female voice asks.

“Uh, he’s not here right now. Can I take a message?” I stumble over the words, making it up as I go. “This is his secretary,” I add unnecessarily.

“This is Taylor from Forever Florist. Mr. Elliot places an order with us every Monday morning, but we haven’t received his call today.” She pauses. I hear her take a quick breath. “It’s unusual…”

I have no idea what to say. If he didn’t place the order then he didn’t want the flowers this week, right? What kind of florist calls because you skip ordering flowers one day?

“I’ll leave him a message to get back to you.” I scribble on a scrap of paper. Pushy flower lady called.

“Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“Mm-hm,” I mumble before dropping the receiver into place.

***

I’ve made it through about a third of the pile when the office door opens. My head snaps up, eyes meeting Link’s. He stares back at me, confused. I hold up the electric bill in my hand for him to see.

“This is two months behind. And are you aware you haven’t collected fees from a lot of people. Like, close to half. In at least two months. How do you keep this place running?”

I watch recognition soften his features, but not by much. His shoulders sag slightly as he walks around the desk to get a closer look at the bill in my hand.

“Is this the newest one?”

“Yep.” I point to the date and he leans in. The scent of his cologne causes me to turn toward him. I haven’t enjoyed the smell of a man in so long. His scent is crisp, clean. Inviting.