When Sparks Fly (20 page)

“Interesting. I guess I should come dressed to impress.”

“Don’t worry! She’s already impressed.”

“Is that so?”

“M’hm.”

“So you’ll be there at the signing? I’d love to finally meet my friend behind the screen.”

I stare, touching his face in the little right hand box, knowing that I would love to see him again, but not as Raven as Angel. Would he understand if “his friend” didn’t show, but I did? Something tells me he already knows or is at least suspicious that she’s not real and he’s not going ballistic, but almost toying with me. I should have been more careful with my words.

“I’d love to meet my favorite author, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”

“I like that I’m your favorite, but that makes me sad. How come?”

I choose to be honest…to an extent, “Because some stories thrive in the middle, without an ending. If you meet me then it will be over and I don’t want it to be over, not yet.”

He doesn’t reply. One minute turns into five and then into ten without a response so I sign off and head to the bathroom for a shower. I feel immense guilt for my actions last night, shame from everything I’ve done as Raven. I’m such a bitch. Such a crazy, fucked up, bitch. I just missed him so much and he wanted nothing to do with me. All I wanted was to be close to him again, I never imagined it would go this far, but it has. Angel would do anything to be near Kane again, even climb inside his mind as Raven Elise.

I attempt to shower away the strangers touch in disgust of myself, but memories flicker maddeningly.

His eyes met mine from across the bar and an enticing smile graced my lips, but it was nothing to the mouthwatering smirk he gave me. Everything in his stance as he swaggered over to me was predatory and I knew with the vodka swirling in me that I would love to be his prey. I’d regret it later, but that was later.

He’d touch me and I’d go numb for just a little while and that is what I needed. I’d pretend different hands were on my skin. He’d fuck away the voices that taunt me, that remind me of everything I destroyed and sent away.

I allowed him to take me back to his place, hands everywhere, teeth clashing, lips bruising. Clothes ripped and staggered like rose petals leading to the destination where he would erase the hatred I had for myself with another reason to loathe who I’d become.

Fingers moved inside me, readying me for the thrusts and the nasty words to wash over me. Nothing sweet was shared. I was nothing to him and he was meaningless to me. My skin was a canvas to be used. He used me and I allowed him.

After I brush my teeth, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, trying to forget…everything.
What am I doing?
Meeting my gaze is a stranger with hazel eyes and dark hair that is always a bit unruly. I wonder if Raven were real, what she would look like. Who does Raven look like in Kane’s mind? Being as though I never gave Raven a true photo for her profile, he’d have to use his imagination when it came to her face. I instead posted a photo of my bare shoulder where a black feather is inked. It’s beautiful to me, with just a touch of it being clipped making my wing damaged, much like myself. Except from the clipped feather, several small black birds soar, reminding me that flight is always possible no matter how injured I feel inside. Nothing else on me is visible in the image, and Kane’s never seen my tattoo as I got it after our break up.

I rub into my palm some oil to smooth the frizz in my hair and then grab my blow dryer where I attempt to tame it. Touching the olive skin of my face and dabbing on concealer to cover the dark circles under my eyes, adding a touch of blush and gloss on my lips just so I look alive before heading into the living quarters where I’m prepared for the disapproving stares from my roommates.

Jeremy hands me a mug of coffee and does a once over of me after embracing me good morning. “How’s my lovely Angel this morning?” he asks. God, the irony of my name is sickening.

“Her wings are intact,” I quip.

He stares at me with scrutiny in his gaze. “You didn’t come home last night.”

I shrug, “So, I didn’t. I’m here now, aren’t I?” I sip the warm liquid with thankful hunger, thinking a shot of Bailey’s would be lovely, maybe something even stronger. I meet Jeremy’s concerned eyes over the rim of my mug. “I stayed with a friend. I’m fine, Jer. Promise,” I lie.

“You and I both know that’s not true. What friend?”

I roll my eyes and turn away from his disapproval. “You wouldn’t like it so don’t ask.” I have enough of my own self-loathing to make me feel like shit. I don’t need to see it mirrored in his eyes.

Thankfully, he drops it. “Avery had to leave for work, but she’s pissed,” he says.

“Perfect.” I roll the tension out of my neck just thinking about the conversation she and I will have. “She stayed up waiting for you. She’s worried sick,” he adds to make me feel worse I assume.

“I’ll call her and apologize when I’m not so hung over.”

“To be honest, I’m a bit concerned myself,” he admits. “You’re being reckless again.”

I put my mug down with a little more force than intended and some sloshes out of it. I turn with my hip against the counter, glaring at him. “Y’all can relax, Jeremy. I’m fine.”

He stands from the table and walks over to me, placing a tender kiss to my forehead. I fight the stinging tears in my eyes because I’m not fine. He looks down into them, seeing everything I hide under my exterior that isn’t bulletproof. “Does this have anything to do with Kane?” he asks, and I tense just hearing his name.

I lock eyes with Jeremy. “Why would you say that?” My question is nothing more than a breath.

“Because of yesterday. Because whatever he wrote in that book shook you up. Who’s Raven?”

I gasp, “Shouldn’t you ask Kane that? He’s the one that dedicated a book to her.”

Jeremy tilts his head, his eyes narrowing dubiously. “I did.”

“And he said?” I wait because I think I know what he said.

“He said to ask you.”

Fucking hell!
The tears begin to fall unbidden because everything is falling apart. My heart is racing and my body trembles in fear of the aftermath of my deception.

“What’s going on,” Jeremy asks, seeing the horror and fear on my face.

I shake my head, my mouth opening and shutting so many times I feel my mouth dry. “Did he say anything else?”

“No, nothing that makes sense.”

“What did he say, Jeremy?” I snap, my voice thick with fear.

Jeremy’s eyes widen. “He said scars are stories, history written on our bodies, reminding us where we’ve been. Tattoos are much of the same, scars with better stories.”

I gasp, my chest heaving and my heart heavy. He knows. Oh, God, he knows I’m Raven. “What did he say about Raven, Jeremy?”

“Angel, what the fuck is this about? You’re scaring me right now.”

“Just answer me. What did he say about Raven? Anything?” I’m holding onto the counter for stability as the room spins.

“He said Raven comforted him with a lie. He’s waiting for her to hurt him with the truth. Raven is his scar, reminding him that his past was real.”

“Oh, God!” I cry, dropping my head in shame.

Jeremy lifts my head, looking in my eyes for the answers to this meltdown. He pulls me into his chest and soothes me with an embrace. “Whatever this is about, we’ll fix it. It’s okay, Angel. You’re going to be okay.”

He’s so certain, but I’m not. The wall is crumbling around me, all my lies built around me, caging me in and when I look up into the sky, I’ll see Kane looking down at me. His face will be hurt, confused and once again he’ll ask me why. Why can’t I just choose him? Why do I pretend to not care, not love him, only to turn around and pretend to be someone else entirely who does? I won’t have any answers because none of them make sense. I explain it all to Jeremy and to say he’s shocked is an understatement.

I end up in my bed, curled up on my side with his book in my hand and tears in my eyes.

Fallen Angel

© Copyright 2015 by K. West.

All rights reserved.

“Try not to move,” Micah said. His blue eyes dark and serious.

“I’m trying not to, but you’re looking at me like that and I can’t help it.”

“Help what?” He asked with a breathy groan, his eyes flicking to me for just a moment.

“I feel… edgy,” I admitted squeezing my thighs together.

Micah’s eyes swept over me with hunger, placing the paintbrush in between his teeth. A twinge of jealousy washed over me. I wanted to be the brush.

“I’m almost done and then I can give you what you want.”

“What do I want?” I whispered with a seductive grin.

His eyes met mine, serious and amused. “The same thing I want…badly.”

“What do you want?” I asked, as I rolled my shoulder to drop the robe just enough to cause him to shift in his seat.

“To fuck you, but right now, I need you to behave, Aria.”

I ignored his request to behave. I lay back on the white shag rug he had in front of the licking flames. He cursed as I untied the robe and let it drop open, exposing me to him. One leg was down while the other was bent at the knee. “Paint me as I think of you,” I told him. I glided my palms over my skin, over my breasts and down my stomach, even further. My right hand touched the places I needed him to. I moaned and turned my head to meet his hungry gaze. He watched and I thrilled in the ecstasy storm that brewed in his eyes. I was his canvas and he was my artist.

I didn’t stop my fingers exploration of myself until he hovered over me in nothing but his dark jeans that hung low on his waist. He took my finger and placed it on his tongue. “Like heaven,” he whispered, climbing over me.

Our lips connected, my hands in his hair and his everywhere, loving how I tasted on his lips. I kicked off his jeans with my feet and pushed them down until he was free. He sank into me and I needed more, so much more of him. Thrusts after thrusts he took me higher and higher until off the edge we both fell.

We’d fallen asleep in front of the fire, embraced in warmth, but I awoke the next morning cold. Micah was gone and left behind was the most beautiful image of me. A dark angel—fallen, curled in on herself with a broken wing. My fingers were outstretched and my eyes held longing as I reached for the hand that was almost touching mine.

I placed the book down, my head spinning remembering the conversation Kane had with Raven about this one chapter.

“Have you read it yet? On the edge of my seat here,” he said in his direct message.

“Yeah, just finished it.”

“And???”

“Damn,” I replied.

He didn’t reply right away and I took a moment to try and wrap my mind around the dangerous game I was playing.

“Did you feel it?” he asked.

“Feel what?”

“The desire?”

“Mmm… YES!”

“Is that a moan I hear?”

“Keep writing scenes like that and I might have an issue.”

“And that would be?”

“Not having someone to fulfill my own desires. After that scene, I needed…something!”

“Hmm…needs!”

“What are your desires, Raven?”

My fingers hovered over the letters that would spell YOU! I knew it was probably my imagination, but I could swear his messages were flirtier with each conversation.

“Is this for research?”

“And if it wasn’t? Maybe, I’m bored and I just want to get out of my head and into someone else’s for a change.”

“Do you want in my head, Kane?”

“Is that what we call pants these days? LOL kidding.”

“Forget I said that. I’ll send you a new chapter tomorrow. I apologize in advance for making you need…something,” then he sent me a winking emoji.

I smiled at him wanting in my imaginary pants and sighed at picturing the real us between the sheets.

“Good night, Kane. I’m sure your characters will have plenty to do in my dreams.”

“Sweet and sexy dreams then, Raven.”

I didn’t have sweet and sexy dreams, though, because I finished the rest of his book and my heart broke. Micah left Aria. He chose his art over his love for her. She falls apart and falls in love again with Landon. The similarities all too similar to our own story.

Annoyed and afraid I open my laptop as Raven.

‡
Chapter Four

Kane