Chapter 26
Charlotte
Two Months Earlier
Nephric, Xander puts down on the board as the screen tallies the total and claims he wins.
“Finally!” comes across the chat box.
I laugh. “You were kind of overdue.”
“Ouch!” he writes back.
We banter back and forth a bit. And because I have to torment my soul, I ask him, “Have any new memories about Billie popped up?”
“No. My friends keep trying to tell me I don’t love her.”
I don’t respond for a minute. I know I need to stop playing with Xander every night and talking with him, but I can’t. I’m addicted to playing with him and keeping him in my life. I miss him so much, and our conversations sometimes fill a hole in my heart and at others, rip it open wider.
Tonight, it’s ripping it open wider. But I have to continue asking him. The ache I feel for him is worse at times, but I continue the destruction of my heart.
“What do you think?”
“She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved and the only one I ever will. It would be impossible for my friends to be right.”
Tears stream down my face. It’s not a different story from any other night, but it hits me really hard.
What if he never really loved me?
No, he did.
Did he really?
As my mind plays games with me and my heart shatters, my doorbell rings. I’m not expecting anyone. “Hello?” I say into the intercom.
“Hey, it’s Damon. I heard you’re back. I brought some dinner over.”
Damon? He wasn’t exactly nice when we broke up. What is he doing here?
Against my better judgement, I buzz him in. When he gets inside my apartment, he’s holding bags of food and says, “Charlotte, have you been crying?”
I rub my fingers on my cheeks, trying to wipe the stains away. “I’m fine. Just had a bout of pain.”
He pulls me into his arms, and even though it isn’t Xander’s arms, it’s comforting to have someone hold me.
It’s been so long since I’ve had any contact with anyone.
I’ve been avoiding my friends and making excuses not to allow them to come over.
I’ve even not answered the door when they’ve showed up unannounced.
Damon kisses me on the head. “Go get comfy on the couch. Let me fix you a plate of dinner.”
If I had been thinking straight, I never would have let him into my apartment. I would have listened to my gut say, “Don’t let him in.” Damon revealed his not-so-nice colors when I broke up with him, and the things he said to me I wouldn’t ever forget.
But here he is, bringing me dinner and trying to comfort me.
Maybe I’m wrong about him?
He’s not Xander.
You need to get over Xander. He’s over you.
Damon goes into the kitchen. I need to use the bathroom so I excuse myself. When I return, I’m heading for the armchair, but he says, “No, sit on the couch.”
My gut asks me why, but I don’t listen and go sit on the couch.
“Here, have a drink.”
I don’t think and drink it. I cough, as the hard alcohol burns my throat. I put it down on the table.
“Jesus, Damon. There’s no mixer in this. It probably has three or four shots in it.”
Damon picks up my glass and hands it to me. “It’ll help your pain. Just take another sip.”
Please put me out of my misery.
I take another sip then blurt out, “Why are you here? We don’t exactly hang out? You said you hated me.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He leans into me. “I don’t hate you.”
The buzz of the alcohol works its way through me. I don’t even think about the fact I’m on pain medication and shouldn’t be mixing any alcohol with what is already in my body.
“You don’t hate me?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry I was such a dick. I came over to be your friend. Can I just be your friend right now?”
If it was any other day, I would be cautious. But the combination of Xander declaring his love for Billie again, the emptiness I’ve felt for so many months, and all my sadness, don’t allow me to be. I fall for his trap.
“I would like that.” I look into his eyes.
“Good.” He hands me my glass and picks up his. “To friendship.” He clinks my glass and we both drink.
The burn of the vodka runs down my throat and into my empty stomach. Maybe this is what I need to feel better.
We joke around for a bit and continue to drink. The food stays in the kitchen. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to anyone. Since I’ve been ignoring the girls messages, the only person I’ve been having conversations with is Xander, and that is only through messenger.
I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t drunk since before the accident, or because I haven’t eaten all day, but suddenly, I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. And it feels good to feel happiness, even if it is a false happiness from the alcohol.
Damon runs his finger from my lips, down my chest and stomach, stopping right above my mound. “Friends help each other out, don’t you think?”
My chest heaves. I know what he’s implying, and I should tell him to go, but I need to feel something besides pain. I think of Xander and how he’s searching for Billie, not thinking anything about me, while I wallow in heartbreak.
Maybe Damon isn’t so bad after all? Maybe I should give him another chance? Maybe I’ll be able to forget about Xander?
“Yes,” I breathe.
Damon leans closer, puts my glass to my mouth, and I take a sip. The burn of the alcohol once again runs down my throat and I cringe, but he gives me another sip.
This isn’t what you want. Tell him to leave.
What you want is Xander and you can’t have him. Wake up and stop holding onto hope for someone who feels nothing for you. At least Damon wants you.
His lips move next to mine. “You want some heat, Charlotte?”
Heat. It’s what I told him we didn’t have.
I stare into his eyes, paralyzed, not sure how to respond.
He laughs. “I’m ready to give you some heat. You want some?”
Xander is heat.
Xander doesn’t want you.
As if in a trance, I nod.
“Tell me to fuck you, and I’ll give you so much heat your head will spin.” Damon’s lips are still next to mine, and he is stroking my womanhood that hasn’t been touched in months.
Without thinking, I whisper, “Fuck me.”
“No. Say it louder, and say my name.”
“Fuck me, Damon,” I say, louder.
He smiles. “No. Tell me again, baby, but louder.”
I repeat it, louder, and then again, laughing, feeling the effects of the alcohol and all the loneliness and heartache of so many months.
“Good girl,” he praises and has me drink more. “Now, stand up and strip for me, while you tell me to fuck you.
This is messed up.
Strip for you?
Just pretend he’s Xander.
I’m no longer thinking about anything logical. I’m so buzzed, he has to help me stand.
In a wobbly state, I tear my shirt off. “Fuck me, Xan...Damon,” I correct myself, laughing.
The room is spinning.
“Take your bra off.”
I struggle to release the clasp in the back because I’m so drunk. He comes over and releases it and then sits back on the couch and I throw it at him.
“That’s my girl.”
“I’m not your girl, I’m Xan—” I stop myself and just laugh. “Actually, I’m no one’s girl.”
“But you want to be?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Okay, baby, you’re going to be my girl.”
“Yours?”
“Yes.”
I laugh. Who gives a shit at this point? “Okay, I’ll be your girl.”
He stands and brings his drink to my lips. It burns down my throat.
He laughs. “You want some heat?”
I nod. “Yeah, I want heat.”
“Say, ‘Damon, I want to be your girl,’ and I’ll give you heat.”
“Damon, I want to be your girl,” I say and grab his arm so I don’t fall.
“That’s my girl.” He beams at me, and my ego soars from his praise. He stabilizes me and says, “Now, take your pants off.”
I release my pajama bottoms and they fall off me.
He reaches down and helps me remove them past my walking cast. Standing back, he instructs, “Get those panties off.”
I just shimmy out of them.
He sits back down on the couch. “Say, ‘Fuck me, Damon,’ and I’ll give you so much heat you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
I laugh. “I already can’t walk.”
“You want heat though, right?”
I shake my head.
“No?”
I shake my head again. “That’s not what I really want.”
“What do you really want?”
“To forget.”
“About what?”
“Not about what. About who.”
A strange look crosses his face, but I’m so inebriated I can’t decipher it and don’t really care.
“Say, ‘Damon, fuck me,’ and I’ll make you forget.”
I don’t hesitate. “Damon, fuck me.”
Louder.
“Damon, fuck me,” I say louder.
“Beg me.”
I throw my head back laughing. “You’re so messed up. Everything about you is screwed up.”
“Isn’t that what you love about me?”
Nope. I’ve never loved you.
“Sure.” It’s easier to just say what he wants to hear.
“So, beg me, and I’ll make you forget.”
What the hell? This is messed up. Is it any more fucked-up than Xander wanting Billie?
I get on my knees and crawl between Damon’s knees, I stare him in the eyes and say, “Please fuck me, Damon.”
“Bitch, suck my dick.”
Bitch?
Xander would never do this to you.
This is stupid and not what I want or need.
I’m over this game.
“Suck your own dick, Damon,” I slur.
He grabs me under the arms and pulls me onto his lap so I’m straddling him. “Let’s not get nasty now.”
What the heck am I doing?
“This is a bad idea. I’m done.”
He laughs. “No you aren’t.”
I stare at him in the eye. “Yeah, I am. I don’t know what I’m doing. You need to leave.”
“You’re such a tease.” He grabs my head to kiss me.
I push out of his grasp, and grab the blanket off my couch, wrapping it around me. “Just leave, Damon.”
“You’re such a bitch,” he sneers at me, getting angry.
A tear falls down my cheek. “I’m sorry. Just go.”
He shudders disgust at me, goes over to the table and grabs his phone, then pauses next to my front door. “You’ll pay for this, Charlotte.”
“Get out, Damon,” I tell him.
He glares at me and leaves.
I lock the door, secure the dead bolt then collapse on the floor, crying.
What was I thinking?
I look at myself, naked except for a blanket, and shame overpowers me. When I stop crying, I grab my phone off the table and go into my bedroom. I put the phone on my charger on my nightstand and see that I have a message from Xander.
I crawl under the covers with my head spinning from all the alcohol.
“I did something really stupid,” I message Xander.
I wish I could talk to you.
“Are you okay?” he responds.
“No. I’m not.”
“Do you want to talk? I can give you my number if you want to talk?”
More torture. What have I been doing?
I have hit a low. Is this what they call rock bottom?
“No. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be able to talk anymore.”
“Okay. I’m here if you need me.”
Here if you need me. Now that’s just beyond cruel.