26. Res
26
Res
O nce I’ve checked into my hotel under a false name, using a pre-paid debit card so that Jaxson can’t track me, I text J on my burner phone. Since Halloween, he meets me every Friday afternoon at One Humanity headquarters so I can make sure he’s alive and that he hasn’t gotten himself into trouble with this mystery friend who can afford to buy him an iPhone. But I won’t be in town this Friday, and I don’t want him to worry.
After receiving the text, he immediately calls.
“Hey, J,” I answer.
“Hey, Res. You’re out of town? Out of town where?”
“Savannah. Just needed to get away,” I say vaguely. “I’ll be back Sunday. Just didn’t want you to worry when I didn’t show up Friday.”
“Cool,” J says distractedly.
“What are you doing?”
“Playing this new fighting RPG that just dropped. It’s—fu—freaking freak! What the heck, man?” J suddenly says, clearly talking to the game .
“J. I know you can’t go to school right now without your dad finding you, but maybe ask your friend to help you get some textbooks or enrolled in an online school.”
“Already way ahead of you, Res,” J says. “One of the conditions of letting me stay with him is schooling. He’s intense about it too. Says I’m never going to get out this stupid small town without making something of myself and a decent education is pivotal. His words, by the way. So… yeah.”
“If that’s the case, why are you playing video games at eleven in the morning?”
I can practically picture J rolling his eyes as he says, “Because it doesn’t matter when I get my work done as long as I’m getting it done. Trust me. He’s been checking. Even while out of town.”
“Out of town? J, where are you? Are you by yourself? Are you—”
“Gotta go, Res. Enjoy your trip,” he says and hangs up the phone.
I sigh, annoyed but not surprised. Every time I get too pushy about J and his living situation, he finds a reason to get away from me or hang up the phone. Just because his situation is clearly better doesn’t mean his caginess about me knowing too much has changed.
I decide not to worry about it and open my bag to change into something more comfortable. A swimsuit with a sundress. Once I’m dressed, I leave my hotel and decide to just walk with a loose plan to find a good place to have lunch but open to see where the universe takes me. I want to be spontaneous. Not worry about not having plans. I want to take a risk and be a little dangerous.
I stop and get fish and fries to eat on my way and end up walking all the way to the beach. It’s the offseason and in the middle of the day on a weekday, so there’s hardly anyone there. Just how I like it. I take off my dress and secure my things in my beach bag before leaving it on the sand. It’s far enough from the shore that it won’t get wet, but close enough for me to keep an eye on it.
It's far cooler on the beach than further inland, but still warm compared to other parts of the country like Chicago right now. And the coolness of the water makes up for the heat. I get in all the way to my chest, letting the waves push and pull me to and fro.
Going to the beach was one of the things on the bucket list I made when I left Loving Eden and my parents’ house. As a child, we never went because beaches, according to my parents, were congregations of sin and debauchery with a bunch of scantily clad women. It wasn’t even a church rule, strictly. Just one of those additional rules my parents made up to control every single thing I did and “train me up” in the “way I should go.”
When I left my parents and Loving Eden, I stayed with Mara until I went to college. And when she and her family went on vacation, they took me with them and her mother took me shopping for a bathing suit. When I realized she didn’t care what I wore, I got the most scandalous two-piece suit I could find, and unabashedly wore it to the beach and along the beach strip. I got attention from boys, naturally, and gave them attention in return. But most people left me alone and didn’t give me a second glance, contrary to the big deal of it all that my parents made it out to be.
Even now, almost a decade later, it still feels like an act of rebellion. A fuck you to my parents, my church, and their god as I soak in the salt water. Get pushed by the waves. Feel the rays of sun on my skin. All while wearing a scant bikini.
After a while, I make my way out of the water, ringing out my dark tresses as I do. As I angle my head sideways toward the ground, I catch sight of a man with his camera pointed at me. When he notices that I’ve spotted him, he lowers it with a bashful grin and makes his way toward me as I head to get my stuff. The closer he gets to me, the better able I am to take in his features.
Long-ish shaggy brown hair. Clean shaven with a lean, athletic build.
“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,” he assures when he’s a few feet away from me. “I just like to capture beautiful scenes and nature, and I couldn’t let such a natural beauty as yourself leave without capturing it.”
It’s cheesy, but I can also tell he’s telling the truth. He’s not carrying a camera around that expensive for shits and giggles. So I give him a coy smile and say, “As long as you’re not some kind of stalker, I guess I can be flattered by that.”
“You wanna see?” he asks holding up the camera.
“I hate all my photos,” I say with a frown.
“You’ll love these. Trust,” he assures.
I decide to take a look.
He’s right. I do love them. I look like a beautiful sea goddess, making her way to the surface world. Ethereal even.
“Wow,” I state. “These are… Wow. Can I have copies of these? I’ll pay you. ”
“Absolutely. I just need to go upload them to my computer, and I can send them over.” He looks me up and down again and then gestures away from the beach. “You from around here?”
“Visiting some family,” I say, not stupid enough to tell a guy that I don’t know that I’m out of town on my own. Even if he’s a guy I hope will fuck me later.
“Will you still be here Friday? We’re doing this bonfire on the beach. I can send you the flyer. It’s something me and some other art inclined friend do in the area. Just some music, vibes, alcohol, and other mind altering substances if that’s your thing,” he states.
This is exactly the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. It’s spontaneous, unplanned, and may lead to getting laid for the rest of the weekend.
“Sure. Here, give me your number,” I say.
We exchanged numbers and emails and then he sends me the legit flyer for the bonfire. Artists’ Flame, it’s called. Friday night, starting at eight p.m.
“I’m Kaydon, by the way.”
“Res. I’ll see if I can make it,” I say, falling back on being a little coy and uncertain. It’s not entirely a lie. Whether or not I’ll show Friday night is entirely dependent on how Kaydon interacts with me between now and then.
Kaydon doesn’t disappoint. No sooner than I’ve found a place to sit down for a late lunch has he sent me the raw digital copies of the photos he took. They really are good. Beyond good. Because I don’t immediately feel the need to delete them. Then he sends me this artist alley and bar that I should check out back toward downtown Savannah, and I immediately know what I’m going to be doing this evening. I ask him to join me, but he can’t make it since he’s working. However, we do spend the rest of the evening texting as I send him pictures of my favorite pieces of art while I sip on my Pina colada.
Not only does Kaydon answer my texts as promptly as he can, which is pretty prompt considering he’s at work, he also gives me more context and anecdotes about the art pieces. Whether they’re paintings or sculptures or drawings. Whether it was a local artist or a tourist or a student from the art school. How they discovered it. How it was picked for display. The inspiration the artists told him about when he met them.
Kaydon then gets off work early and meets me for drinks and a late dinner. By the time it’s over, I feel better than I’ve felt in weeks.
This is what I’ve needed. The thrill of being chased. The thrill of being absolutely wanted. The thrill of being prioritized. That’s the reason I’ve been letting myself slip further and further into Jaxson’s web. Because as terrifying and monstrous as he is, he’s done all those things and then some. I haven’t wanted to fight him because I haven’t been getting those things from anyone else.
“I really enjoyed being with you tonight,” Kaydon says.
I allow myself to be flattered and to blush. “I enjoyed myself too.”
Kaydon leans forward, stopping halfway to gauge my interest. I finish closing the gap.
The way I moan into his mouth as he kisses me probably sounds like a porno, but it’s real and far from exaggerated. A fire lights inside me. Needy. Lustful. Desperate. I want to kick myself for not figuring out my problem weeks ago .
I also want to drag Kaydon back to my room, strip us both naked, and let him fuck me until I can’t walk. But I decide to wait. To drag it out some. So I pull away from him and say goodnight without any assurance that I’ll text him tonight or in the morning.
When I’m back in the car, I glance at my phone for the first time in hours to find the right playlist for the roughly thirty minute drive back to Tybee, Island. I’ve got a dozen or so missed calls, all forwarded from my main phone that I left back in my apartment. All of them from Jaxson
I knew eventually his men were going to tell him that they’d lost me, but I really hadn’t intended on not answering his calls. There’s a reason I let all my calls be forwarded to this phone.
Playlist picked and synced to the screen of my rental, I finally call Jaxson back.
“Where the fucking hell are you?” Jaxson growls as soon as he picks up.
“That kind a language is unbecoming of a man trying to make his way in the world,” I sing.
“Lauressa,” Jaxson growls, pointedly enunciating each of the syllables of my name.
“I just took an impromptu vacation is all.”
“Without telling me.”
“You don’t control me.”
“Evidently,” Jaxson grounds out. “You’re still mine. In my control or out of it. Now where the fuck are you. ”
“If you want to know so damn bad, figure it out yourself. But you can relax. I’ll be back Sunday morning. Before you’re even back from Chicago,” I assure.
“Lauressa,” he growls and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s about to jump through the phone and choke me.
There’s going to be hell to pay for this stunt. But I needed this trip. Needed to be reinvigorated to fighting him again. Remember why I left the fucking Christian cult my parents raised me in and why I can’t let myself be sucked back into Jaxson’s orbit.
“Fuck you,” I snap.
I hang up and turn off the forwarding app.
If Jaxson was called away on business by his father, no way he’ll risk leaving early and gaining the man’s unwanted and unnecessary attention—stickler for playing by the books in pursuit of his goals as he is. Thus, there’s nothing Jaxson can do or try to do to me until he gets back. And in that time, I plan to remind him that I’m my own woman
******
By the time I get back to my hotel room, I’m still riding high off the adrenaline surge of telling Jaxson to fuck off and knowing there’s nothing he can do about it. My high gets even better when I see Kaydon has already texted me and wants to meet on the beach tomorrow night to take some more pictures. I happily agree.
After spending the rest of the next day taking a guided tour, eating my weight in snacks, and going on a short hike, I head down to the beach in another two-piece suit with a sheer cover-up .
It’s a little cooler this evening than it was yesterday, but still warm, and Kaydon is already there, sitting on a large blanket with a pack of beer.
“So, how do you want me?” I ask, aware of the innuendo in my words.
Kaydon definitely catches it by the smirk on his face but only says, “Just do what you did yesterday. In the water. With your coverup on. The most beautiful shots are the most candid ones.”
I get in the water, not particularly taking my time but not running either. Just calmly walking into it again. Listening to the sounds of the waves and the birds calling overhead. Feeling the wind come off the ocean and blow my dark hair in my face. The water against my skin as I submerge myself in it. Smell the salt and dampness of the ocean. See the bright stars in the sky. Taste the freedom that it all represents. Freedom from my fucked up life. Freedom from Jaxson because here, he can’t get to me.
After a while, Kaydon calls out to me and tells me to take off the dress. I slowly peel the wet dress from my body as I make my way back up the beach. Then I toss it onto the blanket and get back into the water. This time I kneel in the water and sand while facing the shore. I play in it, look for shells, keep moving an unruly lock of hair out my face.
“You could be a model,” Kaydon comments.
I laugh. “Oh no. You’re getting good photos of me now. But when you tell me to strike a pose and smile for the camera, I’m all awkward angles and smiles. It’s really terrible how unphotogenic I am.” Then, “ What now?”
“I don’t know. Any ideas?”
I have one. It’s bold. Spontaneous. Audacious. Everything I wanted this getaway to be.
So I make my way back up the shore, undoing the ties of my bikini top and bottoms as I do. By the time I get to the blanket, I’m naked.
“You like this idea?” I ask coyly, looking over my shoulder to Kaydon as I drop my bikini on the blanket.
“Yeah,” Kaydon stammers.
He takes a few more pictures of me. My naked skin glistening from the salt water. Then, Kaydon asks, “Can I suggest a pose?”
“Sure,” I say walking back toward him on the beach.
“Lay back on the blanket and spread your legs.”
I smile and lay back on the blanket, sitting up on my elbows with my legs spread.
“Good,” he says. “Now spread that cunt of yours.”
I reach down and spread the lips of my cunt.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Kaydon mutters after taking a few pictures.
“You just going to keep looking and taking pictures?” I ask.
Kaydon sticks his camera in his bag and then kneels next to me. His lips find mine while one of his hands brushes my hand away from my cunt and begins to stroke it. He inserts two fingers into me, and I arch myself down toward his hand as pumps them back and forth.
My breath comes out in pants as I grind my hips down into Kaydon’s hand. Sweat begins to mix with the salt water sheened on my body. Stomach clenching every time pleasure zings through me .
It’s so good. The only thing that could make it better is if Jaxson were watching. He would look impassive and neutral to most but have hellfire in his eyes as I let another man touch me. It almost makes me wish we were in my apartment where I know Jaxson would see. Where he could watch me on his monitors and do nothing but watch. Unless he wanted to lose all that control and discipline he prides himself on to make a hasty decision that would make attaining his goals harder or impossible.
Just the thought makes me wetter if the squelching wet noise from Kaydon fucking his fingers into me is any indication.
“Faster,” I demand. “Harder.”
He acquiesces, and I come on his hand, pleasure overtaking me.
“Keep going,” I say, because once isn’t enough. I want to feel like I’m being dragged beneath the waves, despite desperately kicking for the surface. I want to feel like I’m being tossed and turned about, not knowing which way is up and which way is down. Left or right. I want…
I let out a loud mewl as I come again on Kaydon’s fingers. Kaydon removes his fingers, and I swallow a whine of disappointment. It’s still not enough. But there’s time. We have all night, after all.
“Let’s go to my hotel,” I suggest.
“Fuck yes,” Kaydon mutters against my lips. He gives me one final kiss before standing up.
I put my bikini back on and then the coverup for modesty’s sake. Kaydon is still packing up his things when I’m done.
“You go ahead,” he says. “It’s going to take a while to pack up all my equipment. I’ll catch up. ”
“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” I say while heading back up the beach.
Halfway to my hotel, Kaydon texts me.
Might have to wait a little longer than expected. Stupid security officer is harassing me for being out here without a permit.
That’s such bullshit, I text back.
Yeah. Usually they don’t bother me. But tonight… He’s writing me up. I’ll head over when I’m done.
Looking forward to it. Hopefully, what I have planned for you will make up for the fine.
I’ll hold you to it, Kaydon replies.
I smile and finish the other half of my walk in the next few minutes. Once I’m in my room, I toss off my clothes and shower to rinse all the sand off my skin. The last thing I want is to get sand in the bed. Then I dry myself off, put on some moisturizing lotion, and wait.
Twenty minutes pass.
I grab my phone to see if Kaydon has sent me a message that I missed. There’s nothing. I send a text asking if everything is okay. I don’t get an answer.
Another twenty minutes pass and with unsettling, stomach turning resignation, I realize that he’s not coming.