SHATTERED: Round Four

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Copyright © 2015 by Skyla Madi

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Halfway, ladies and gentlemen.

Let’s do this!

One

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Suffering

Jai

 

She shivers under the gentle brush of my lips as I glide them along her ribcage. The very tip of my cock slides in and out of her tight, wet pussy and a groan releases itself from my throat. It’s only the tip and I already want to fill her up. Being in her is my favorite part of the day. Together we are absolute perfection.

Yin and Yang.

Water and fire.

She pushes her fingers through my hair, gripping slightly every time her hips flex against mine. From the harsh, fast pace of her breathing to the slick sweat on her skin, I live for it now. I have my brother. I got him back from Skull just like I said I would and on the way, I found her.

Emily.

Kitten.

Mine.

I’m at peace with it now—our predicament with Skull. The thirst for his blood no longer rages in my veins and my pride is sated enough to leave the country where we have a better chance at surviving. We could be gone. We could be living in a distant country with no worries in the world…except Joel is hell bent on rescuing his woman—a woman he took from Skull in the first place. I’ve tried talking him out of it. I’ve reasoned with him until I turned blue in the face, but there’s no changing his mind. Stubbornness is a Stone family trait.

He claims he’s in love with Monique. He claims he’ll marry her and they’ll have children. The thought of it is enough to make me want to roll my eyes. It all seems a little “whirlwind” to me, but what can I do? If I say anything to him he flips it back on me, comparing my relationship with Emily to his relationship with Monique. They’re not even remotely the same. Emily didn’t belong to a powerful crime lord when we met—though I’m certain Skull begs to differ.

If I’m being honest, I don’t recognize my brother anymore. He’s covered in tattoos. They blacken every limb and paint every inch, leaving his face untouched. He admitted to murdering a lot of people—bad people—but people none-the-less. He drinks a fuck load, despite always being against alcohol, and he apparently has grown accustom to snorting cocaine. In retrospect, he’s a stranger with the same name as my brother.

“Hey...”

Her soft whisper and the touch of her warm hands as they glide over my jaw and onto my cheeks pulls me out of my head. It’s a place I haven’t been able to escape since the night we saved Joel…and I’m suffering because of it, drowning in an abyss of irrationality.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks, her pretty eyes shining with concern in the early morning light.

I watched her sleep last night since my brain refused to allow me a few minutes of peace of my own. It was the first time I regretted the mission I set myself on. Why? Because I’ve selfishly fucked a lot of lives and for what? Joel didn’t want to be saved. He hasn’t said it, but I see it in his face. All he cares about is Skull’s whore. A whore who is probably as fucked up as Skull is. I don’t want to save her. Is that selfish?

“Nothing.” I say.

I shake my head and lean closer, planting three soft kisses up her neck and onto her jaw.

With a defeated sigh, she pushes the palms of her hands against my chest, but I don’t budge.

Instead, I trail my hungry lips to her mouth and catch her bottom lip between my teeth. She pulls away with a wince, pushing hard against my chest.

“Jai.”

Sighing, I slip from her body and roll onto my back as Emily climbs off the bed and drags herself to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Rubbing my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I follow a crack in the paint on the ceiling.

This is the fourth time in three days I’ve zoned out during sex and I do believe that was the last straw. Fuck, I can’t help it. I can’t get out of my own head. I’ve tried, but it’s like pushing a bicycle through wet, sticky tar.

What pisses me off the most is the fact Joel hasn’t asked about Jessica yet. He has no idea she’s in Italy. He has no idea she’s even alive and do you think I’ve received a thank you for saving his pathetic ass? No. I only ruined my career and risked my life in the process. Is that not worthy of a thank you?

I’m doing it again, aren’t I?  I’m drowning in my own thoughts.

Exhaling, I kick my sweatpants down the remainder of my legs and off the side of the bed before rolling on to my side. As I stare at the blaring, red numbers on the alarm clock sitting on my bedside table. Its eight a.m. already? Then the smells hit me and swirl around my nostrils, making my empty stomach clench. It’s yet another thing new Joel is addicted to that old Joel hated—greasy, fried breakfast foods. If you told me two years ago I’d be eating breakfast with a cocaine snorting, breakfast loving, tattoo enthusiast of a brother, I’d have laughed in your face. Oh, but how quickly the impossible becomes possible.

The sound of shower jets blasting water against tiles forces me to push my naked ass off the bed and onto my feet. As I walk, I feel my body pull itself into a negative posture—shoulders slumped, chin dropped, feet dragging. I can’t kick it. I’ve punched, fucked, and ran for my life, but it’s still inside me—the bitterness, the anger—it lurks like cancer, growing as rapid and as aggressive as a tumor.

And I can’t talk to him about it because talking to him about this whole situation is like standing too close to a lit firecracker and knowing it can go off at any second.

I slide the base of my feet against the plush carpet and approach the bathroom door. As I slip the curved, stainless steel handle into my hand, I pause. What will I say? She’s never walked out on me before so I’m guessing “sorry about that” won’t fix anything this time.

I don’t want to tell her I’m embarrassed. I worked up the reunion with Joel in my head for so long...it was supposed to be different. It wasn’t supposed to leave me wondering why I even bothered saving him in the first place.

I push on the handle and open the door. Steam rushes out to meet my naked body and it clings to my skin, sending a rush of goosebumps across my torso. She turns her back to me, smoothing her hands over her dark, wet hair as I slip inside the room and close the door.