Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (66 page)

Bullshit. He has no right to treat me like this!

Tears leaked out of my eyes. To think, just a few short hours ago, he’d told me that he loved me more than he ever thought it possible, and now…there was
no love
. I knew it was missing because he was deep inside me, and he should have been hitting that gorgeous point that set me on fire, but instead, I felt only his massive cock riding in and out of me.

This was not my Dark God of the Universe.

“Is that,” he hissed next to my ear, “how you were able to simply walk away from us, from what we started all those years ago? Is that how you found it possible to just send me away like nothing was ever between us?” He was referring to my ability to sink into a meditative state.

You took that part of me with you, Phil. You had me with you the whole time you were gone. I never shut off my heart because I didn’t understand. I simply numbed myself to my loss with more and more responsibilities.

“Tell me!” he shouted, making me flinch.

I refused. I was keeping my fucking mouth shut. If he could find the balls to treat me like garbage, like nothing more than one of his groupies, then he didn’t need to know, didn’t
deserve
to know.

Remember him as he was, holding me close while we danced. Remember the love and pride shining from his eyes as he showed me what it was like to dance with a boy taller than me. Remember how quick he made me come in the bathroom at the restaurant and how he was when we imagined a different outcome to the night at Bougainvillea.

Remember…his demons wear my face.

Whatever it was he had heard had triggered the unleashing of this beast. Whatever fear he had harbored deep inside him had brought this creature to the surface, and it had eclipsed the man I adored.

You can still call Kashmir!

Kashmir!

Kashmir!

I could, but I wouldn’t. Something within me was telling me to ride this out, no matter the consequences. It was important to try to understand this even if that understanding would come later on. It
would
come later on.

He grew thicker and harder inside me.

“This is your last chance to come, baby,” he told me in a deadened voice.

He was out of his head, if he actually thought I could get off from this. I really couldn’t be bothered with trying to find any sort of pleasure in this at all.

He pulled out of me, the heat of his body shimmering like a mirage over me.

Please no…

He wanted me to feel as low and unappreciated as possible, not worthy of leaving a part of himself behind. Hot beads of liquid splattered against my back, and he released a grunt as he found his end.

Horrified in my humiliation, I covered my face with my hand.

Do not cry. Do not shed a single tear over this. I know I didn’t ask for this, and I will not take responsibility for it.
He
did this, turning one of the most amazing nights into this nightmare over a misunderstanding. Let him be the one to cry over it. He doesn’t deserve my tears.

I fought the burning in my eyes and nose. I forced myself to breathe past the lump in my throat.

Noncommittal, Phil tossed the towel on my back and got up. I heard him enter the bathroom. The door shut, and the water turned on.

Phil

As I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, the last traces of the blinding rage left me. I found myself looking into the eyes of something I didn’t recognize.

Turning on the water, I felt the need to rinse the sour, metallic taste out of my mouth. When the cold liquid touched my lips, it slammed me hard.

Oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit. What have I done?

Crashing to my knees and dropping my head to the countertop, I tried to breathe, tried to process what the fuck just happened.

Just like when I’d found out about Jason telling her about
that night
, a red-and-black haze had descended over me when she said she wondered what it was like for the other women. I had only experienced that explosive fury twice before—the first time had been
that night
and then with Jason.

Fuck.

The only thing I ever lost my shit over was
her.

And I had seriously lost my fuckin’ shit.

How could my Baby Girl want to know what it was like? Doesn’t she realize she is above them? Doesn’t she know that I never made love to a woman before her? Why would she want that?

But then I had felt her reaching out for me. I knew she had wanted me to stop, but by then, my rage had taken over, and—

Flinging myself for the toilet, I almost didn’t make it before puking up everything that was in my gut. Sitting back with my bare ass on the floor, shaking and sweaty, I wanted to die for what I had just done to her. Deep down, I felt it. I had
wrecked
something. She was breaking inside, and I had done that.

I had asked her what she had been thinking, and because I didn’t like the answer, I…

For years, I had just been going through the motions, getting off with whatever willing piece of ass was readily available—but not with Kenna. With her, it wasn’t about getting off. It was so much
more.
It was completion. It was union. It defied logic, how blissful it made me feel. With her, I was clean, pure, new—just like Kenna herself.

What did I just do to my beautiful Baby Girl?

Getting to my feet, I rushed to the door, ready to get on my knees, to beg and grovel for her forgiveness.

But there was no one there to apologize to.

Because my Baby Girl was gone.

Her pretty little underthings were still heaped on the floor, next to her fancy shoes, but that dress that had done me in from the moment I saw her was gone. On the bed sat the towel I had tossed at her before getting up.

Fuck, I just might be sick again.

She had every right to run from me. This time, there was nothing cowardly in her leaving. I had treated my Baby Girl like garbage, and like garbage, she’d taken herself out.

There was no time to lose. I had to find her now. I had to fix this before the hate I had unleashed infected her for good.

A hollow, empty lonely blackness seeped into my chest. The silence in the room was so heavy that it weighed me down, resting on my shoulders like the greatest of burdens. Her light, her love, her laughter—everything that made my universe a wondrous place to exist was gone. It wasn’t like she had gotten up to go get a glass of water. It wasn’t the morning when she would wake up and leave to do yoga.

My Baby Girl had
left.

She wasn’t coming back.

She was
gone
.

And she’d taken my heart with her.

The epic love of Phil and Kenna continues in

No Quarter

Book Two of the NOLA’s Own Series

Coming June 10, 2015

There are so many people who have influenced, supported, and encouraged me along the way on this journey.

My life partner, Espen, who worked long hours all day, only to come home and take over as Super Dad so that I could sit down and write and write and write—Thank you for letting me accomplish this. It would never have been possible if not for you.

Siggi Bryn, E.M. Abel, Mandy Arthur, Jaime Conklin, and Cindi Howard—my beta readers who blew me away with their feedback—I love you guys, and I am so lucky to have you on my team. A writer couldn’t ask for better encouragement.

Terje and Renee, who together created a cover that I loved—You both saw my vision and created a masterpiece for my debut. Thanks for making it beautiful.

My editor, Jovana Shirley, who took my words and turned them into magic. Damn, woman! You rock!

And a huge thanks to the musicians and bands who have influenced me throughout my entire life. This entire series floats on the notes, rhythms, and beats of your songs. You guys speak to
my
soul and helped create the soul of this story. Without you…there would be no me.