I'm going to marry her, I realize as I drive past the fields surrounding my house. The May air is heavy, and even though the sun is beginning its decent, it's still sweltry. I roll down the truck windows and the lines of clouds remind me of her.
Everything reminds me of her now.
It took what little strength I had left not to drive to her house late last night. When I called she sounded exhausted. I lost count after the ninth time we made love this weekend. I was exhausted too. The fear of losing her to Jason Leer lit my insides on fire and having her all weekend was the only thing that extinguished it. I stop at the only crossroad between our houses and in all four directions there is nothing but crops. Crops with the sun bearing down on them the way I’m going to bear down on Charlotte in about thirty seconds. I can't wait to get my hands on her.
*****
“Charlotte,” I yell, and practically skip through her kitchen, anxious to see her and impatient to touch her. A chair is facing me in the family room with a sign taped to it.
Sit Down
Close Your Eyes
Close Your Eyes
My mouth waters at the words and I swallow hard. Images of her naked over the last three days flood my mind. I pull the sign off and eagerly sit down, wrapping my hands around each wooden arm as I call her name out again. This chair is perfect for–
“Don’t turn around,” Charlotte says, and her voice floats across the room. It’s flat and seductive and it feels like I never left her yesterday. I’m going to spend the rest of my life this way.
“I love it when you tell me what you want,” I say, and close my eyes as directed.
She places a scarf over my eyes and ties it. The familiar throbbing in my pants lifts my arm up to touch her. This is going to be another great night. Charlotte grabs my hand and pulls it back over my head as she moves in front of me. I inhale deeply the sweet smell of Charlotte. Her lips gently touch mine, but when I reach up to touch her face her breath catches and she jerks backwards.
“Give me a second, okay?” she asks, and her long hair strokes me as she kneels and ties both my ankles to the chair legs.
God I love this girl.
“Take as much time as you need,” I practically pant out as the throbbing morphs into a pounding on my zipper. Maybe not too long.
With my legs tied, Charlotte leans in between them and kisses me. A sweet, gentle kiss that reminds me of why I love her. She's as kind as she is seductive. It’s a wicked combination, one I’m not letting go of. The kiss does nothing to quiet the pounding.
I reach my hands to her face and she pulls them away. I pause. She’s never not let me touch her before.
Charlotte kisses me again, driving the confusion from my mind.
“You know one of the things I love about you, Noble Sinclair?” Her words are slow, calculated, as she binds my wrists to the chair arms.
“My plowing?” I ask with a naughty smile. My body aches to touch her. She kisses me again. Her hair falls on the side of my face and I’m reminded of how it felt on my bare chest this weekend, and then I remember the look on her face when she climbed on top of me. She is the most beautiful girl in the world.
“The way you don’t let things bother you. How you don’t overreact.”
Her comment is foreign. It breaks into my memories and I can’t place it anywhere. She didn’t even laugh at my joke. Charlotte always laughs at my jokes. Something’s wrong. An uneasiness quiets the throbbing and my instincts test the bindings on my wrists.
“Charlotte…”
“Noble, I love you.” It’s some sort of plea I can’t respond to. A knot forms in my stomach, anger and fear tied together. “There was an accident,” she says, and leans back, her hair lying across my bare legs as her elbows rest on my knees. “I saw Jason yesterday, and there was an accident.” Her hair shifts as she bows her head, and anger spreads through me, shielding me from the fear of her next statements. The thought of her anywhere near him infuriates me.
I hear her swallow. There’s the sound of her breath, the stretching of the scarves against my forearms, and the beating of my heart bashing its way right out of my chest. Images of Jason and Charlotte pierce my thoughts. There was a time when they consumed each other, and yesterday they were together.
“We spoke,” Charlotte begins again, and I force myself to focus. “More like fought.” She pauses and the knot tightens inside of me. “About everything that happened, and I think it brought us both some closure,” she says this lightly, as if we should all be relieved. "But while we were fighting…” Charlotte drops her arms, no longer touching me at all, and my dread is vindicated. “There was an accident and I got hurt.”
My arms and legs lurch forward, but I’m trapped in the chair. I shake my head to free my eyes. I can’t navigate the rage boiling inside my head.
“Untie me!” My harsh words hurl from my mouth.
“Not until I’m sure you understand how this happened.”
“How what happened?” I roar. I reach out and catch a wisp of her hair in my fingers. Charlotte takes my hand in both of hers and kisses it.
“I was being terrible.” Her voice cracks. “Screaming and throwing boards in the workshop at him. One ricocheted and hit me.” Instantly I know why she wouldn’t let me touch her. “In the face.”
“Charlotte, untie me,” I say, and it’s not a request. I try to keep my voice as composed as possible, but I can’t understand what she’s saying. The only piece I’ve truly grasped is that she and Jason were together.
“Not until I know you’re calm.” She sounds completely different. I just dropped her off yesterday. How much could have happened? I should have come back last night. “Promise me you won’t freak out.” The only reason I would freak out is if something happened to her. Something awful.
“Charlotte, are you okay?” I ask, the thunder gone from my voice.
“I’m going to be fine, but it may not look that way so I need you to stay calm."
“Please, Charlotte.” I feel her lean up and untie my right hand. I pull the scarf off my head and when my eyes adjust to the light she’s staring out the glass door to my left, watching the sun falling down to the fields. Her emerald green eye is frozen in a listless stare.
My hand reaches for her. I run the back of my fingers across her cheek as her eye closes, and then I pull her chin toward me. “I’m so sorry, Noble,” she says, and I gasp at the sight of her. Someone beat the shit out of her. I can’t even see her right eye.
“For what?” I ask, again too harshly.
“I don’t know, but I’m sorry this happened.”
I untie my other hand and lift her into my arms to examine her closer. Her heavenly face is a sickening mix of bloody bruises, stitches, and fresh scabs. Her right eye is completely swollen shut with stitches above and below it.
“It’s going to heal. Maybe a little scar, but it’s going to heal,” she whispers, and the weakness in her voice makes me think she’s not sure if she’ll heal as adequately as her injuries. My anger at Jason Leer burns through me again.
Charlotte stands, putting distance between me and her thoughts. She stares, pleading for some understanding, waiting for me to explode. But I’m not going to explode.
I’m going to kill Jason Leer.
“Don’t turn around,” Charlotte says, and her voice floats across the room. It’s flat and seductive and it feels like I never left her yesterday. I’m going to spend the rest of my life this way.
“I love it when you tell me what you want,” I say, and close my eyes as directed.
She places a scarf over my eyes and ties it. The familiar throbbing in my pants lifts my arm up to touch her. This is going to be another great night. Charlotte grabs my hand and pulls it back over my head as she moves in front of me. I inhale deeply the sweet smell of Charlotte. Her lips gently touch mine, but when I reach up to touch her face her breath catches and she jerks backwards.
“Give me a second, okay?” she asks, and her long hair strokes me as she kneels and ties both my ankles to the chair legs.
God I love this girl.
“Take as much time as you need,” I practically pant out as the throbbing morphs into a pounding on my zipper. Maybe not too long.
With my legs tied, Charlotte leans in between them and kisses me. A sweet, gentle kiss that reminds me of why I love her. She's as kind as she is seductive. It’s a wicked combination, one I’m not letting go of. The kiss does nothing to quiet the pounding.
I reach my hands to her face and she pulls them away. I pause. She’s never not let me touch her before.
Charlotte kisses me again, driving the confusion from my mind.
“You know one of the things I love about you, Noble Sinclair?” Her words are slow, calculated, as she binds my wrists to the chair arms.
“My plowing?” I ask with a naughty smile. My body aches to touch her. She kisses me again. Her hair falls on the side of my face and I’m reminded of how it felt on my bare chest this weekend, and then I remember the look on her face when she climbed on top of me. She is the most beautiful girl in the world.
“The way you don’t let things bother you. How you don’t overreact.”
Her comment is foreign. It breaks into my memories and I can’t place it anywhere. She didn’t even laugh at my joke. Charlotte always laughs at my jokes. Something’s wrong. An uneasiness quiets the throbbing and my instincts test the bindings on my wrists.
“Charlotte…”
“Noble, I love you.” It’s some sort of plea I can’t respond to. A knot forms in my stomach, anger and fear tied together. “There was an accident,” she says, and leans back, her hair lying across my bare legs as her elbows rest on my knees. “I saw Jason yesterday, and there was an accident.” Her hair shifts as she bows her head, and anger spreads through me, shielding me from the fear of her next statements. The thought of her anywhere near him infuriates me.
I hear her swallow. There’s the sound of her breath, the stretching of the scarves against my forearms, and the beating of my heart bashing its way right out of my chest. Images of Jason and Charlotte pierce my thoughts. There was a time when they consumed each other, and yesterday they were together.
“We spoke,” Charlotte begins again, and I force myself to focus. “More like fought.” She pauses and the knot tightens inside of me. “About everything that happened, and I think it brought us both some closure,” she says this lightly, as if we should all be relieved. "But while we were fighting…” Charlotte drops her arms, no longer touching me at all, and my dread is vindicated. “There was an accident and I got hurt.”
My arms and legs lurch forward, but I’m trapped in the chair. I shake my head to free my eyes. I can’t navigate the rage boiling inside my head.
“Untie me!” My harsh words hurl from my mouth.
“Not until I’m sure you understand how this happened.”
“How what happened?” I roar. I reach out and catch a wisp of her hair in my fingers. Charlotte takes my hand in both of hers and kisses it.
“I was being terrible.” Her voice cracks. “Screaming and throwing boards in the workshop at him. One ricocheted and hit me.” Instantly I know why she wouldn’t let me touch her. “In the face.”
“Charlotte, untie me,” I say, and it’s not a request. I try to keep my voice as composed as possible, but I can’t understand what she’s saying. The only piece I’ve truly grasped is that she and Jason were together.
“Not until I know you’re calm.” She sounds completely different. I just dropped her off yesterday. How much could have happened? I should have come back last night. “Promise me you won’t freak out.” The only reason I would freak out is if something happened to her. Something awful.
“Charlotte, are you okay?” I ask, the thunder gone from my voice.
“I’m going to be fine, but it may not look that way so I need you to stay calm."
“Please, Charlotte.” I feel her lean up and untie my right hand. I pull the scarf off my head and when my eyes adjust to the light she’s staring out the glass door to my left, watching the sun falling down to the fields. Her emerald green eye is frozen in a listless stare.
My hand reaches for her. I run the back of my fingers across her cheek as her eye closes, and then I pull her chin toward me. “I’m so sorry, Noble,” she says, and I gasp at the sight of her. Someone beat the shit out of her. I can’t even see her right eye.
“For what?” I ask, again too harshly.
“I don’t know, but I’m sorry this happened.”
I untie my other hand and lift her into my arms to examine her closer. Her heavenly face is a sickening mix of bloody bruises, stitches, and fresh scabs. Her right eye is completely swollen shut with stitches above and below it.
“It’s going to heal. Maybe a little scar, but it’s going to heal,” she whispers, and the weakness in her voice makes me think she’s not sure if she’ll heal as adequately as her injuries. My anger at Jason Leer burns through me again.
Charlotte stands, putting distance between me and her thoughts. She stares, pleading for some understanding, waiting for me to explode. But I’m not going to explode.
I’m going to kill Jason Leer.