Chapter 29
twenty-nine
. . .
Resurgence
Ten years ago
desiree
twenty years old
When we made our way into the quiet darkness of Taven’s apartment, I closed the door behind us. We had taken a cab home, both of us silent and stunned as we absorbed what had just happened. Me working to blink away the tears threatening to consume me, and the images of the guy pressing against me, then the sight of him bleeding and lifeless on the ground, Taven’s chest huffing out in strained breaths as he finally allowed Felix to pull him away.
I shuffled him into his small galley kitchen and switched on the light, wincing as my eyes adjusted. I guided Taven over to the sink. I had nearly sobered by then, but Taven only seemed to be getting more drunk by the minute.
“Did I kill him?” he asked, his voice a strange slur of what almost sounded like giddy boyishness. Like he wasn’t referring to the harm inflicted on someone, but rather a kid asking if he gets to keep the new puppy. “Is this puppy all mine?” was more the fitting words to match his tone.
It freaked me out. I held his hands in the sink and turned on the water, mind spinning over what just happened as I watched the water mix with blood, Taven’s and the snake guy’s.
He repeated his question, placing his hand over mine to stop my work in cleaning him up. “Dazzle, did I kill him?” His eyes were glassy and the smile creeping over him sent a chill down my spine. It was almost like he wasn’t even there. Like the rational human form of him had left his body.
“You didn’t kill him. Felix stopped you.”
“Damn it,” he said. “But I was supposed to kill him.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“I was defending your honor .” Honor was said like an invention he had created. Honor! Eureka!
“Which was wonderful of you,” I soothed. “You have no idea. But I don’t need you in jail.”
“Psshh. I wouldn’t go to jail. It was self-defense. Dazzle defense. I Dazzle-fended you.”
“Yes, you most certainly did.”
“I should have killed him. I will be having a word with Felix,” he said, slurring and swaying.
I gently washed his battered hands, then grabbed paper towels to dry them. I knew I should probably ice them, but I was too exhausted. Instead, I guided him to his room and onto his bed, stripping him of his bloody clothes down to his boxers. He was muttering something, some dirty joke as I did so, but I stopped listening to him at that point. I tucked him in, then went back to the kitchen to grab water and Advil. I popped two for myself and swallowed them down, then poured out three more to take to Taven.
I made my way back to his room and handed him the pills. “Here. Take these.”
He hesitated for a moment, I worried he was going to fight me on it, but then he finally sat up. He reached for the pills and threw them back. I handed him the water and he guzzled it down, letting some dribble out the side of his mouth as he pulled the cup away prematurely. “Water’s good,” he crooned.
I left him to go use the bathroom. I sat on the toilet, willing myself to focus on my surroundings, the navy blue shower curtain, the beige towels on the rack in front of me. I was back in Taven’s apartment now. I was safe. I looked at the small cup next to the sink. Taven’s toothbrush, his razor, anything I could focus on to push away the feeling of hands and hot breath all over me. I wanted to erase the memory of some guy forcing his fingers inside me.
Was that considered rape? I didn’t even know, but I knew I felt disgusting. He certainly got his punishment, that was for sure. I thought about the way we left him battered and beaten in the alleyway like that, and I prayed there wouldn’t be repercussions.
I slipped off my dress, not even caring that I was down to my bra and underwear. It didn’t matter. I walked back into Taven’s bedroom and opened up his dresser drawers, finding one of his shirts and slipping it over my head, trying to ignore Taven’s whistles and mumbles of appreciation as he watched me. How my body was gorgeous and to be cherished. “You cherish that body,” he slurred. “You protect that body. You don’t be mean to it.”
He said how happy he was he protected me. How he’ll always be there for me. I silently thought how relieved I felt in knowing that was true.
He kept carrying on about what a beauty I always was, how he still remembers the first time he saw me in a bikini. Did I remember that time? he asked me. On his parents’ boat, when we were kids? I said I remembered. I let my mind wander back to those summer days on the water. Or by the pool at the club. The warmth of the sun, the carefree laughter of us as kids.
He said he remembered it all like it was yesterday. How I had this one bikini that he loved. How it was white. How he masturbated to the image of me later on that day. In my teeny white bikini.
I smiled.
It felt good to smile. To think of something sweet. It felt good to know I could still smile. I could still remember pleasant things. That hadn’t changed or been taken from me.
I allowed myself to fully smile. I didn’t need to be scared anymore. I was okay. Maybe everything would be okay.
I slipped into bed beside Taven and curled my back up against his chest as he draped his arm over me. The heaviness of it felt wonderful.
Usually in the past, if we had shared a cab back to his place, I’d pass out in his bed and he’d take the couch, insisting I be comfortable.
But not tonight.
Tonight I just wanted the safety of feeling Taven’s arms around me. Drunk and all, his arms around me were the exact comfort I needed.
I don’t know when I began crying, exactly. Three minutes, ten minutes after crawling into his bed, I’m not sure. He cradled me in his arms, asking me if I was hurt, and I told him no. “Just scared,” I said, my body trembling as he pulled me tighter.
“I’ve got you, Dazzle. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” I listened to his soothing voice and let my tears fall while he kissed my head over and over again. “I’ve got you.”
I didn’t want to tell him what exactly the guy had done to me. With my dress hiked up around my waist, and the guy’s buckle undone and hanging loose from his belt loops, I’m sure Taven could fill in the blanks. I didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Taven hadn’t shown up. I realized how close I might have been to having my precious virginity robbed from me, just like that. Outside some bar.
As a feeling of gratitude washed over me, I turned around and searched for Taven’s lips. His mouth felt familiar yet new to me, different from the heated and stolen kisses we’d share when he was still with Christine. These kisses were tender, a quiet exchange of our feelings. Feelings for one another, feelings of fear that were creeping in, now that the adrenaline highs were wearing off. I ran my hands through his hair, and hummed at the warmth of his hand finding its way under my t-shirt and onto my skin. The whisper in my ear of him saying, “I love you so much, Dazzle,” made my heart beat faster.
I decided that I needed to be naked with him. I slipped off the shirt I was wearing, unclasped my bra, and shimmied off my panties while I pressed myself against the warmth of his chest. I assisted him as he worked his way free of his briefs. My Taven. Naked side by side with me under the safety of warm cotton blankets. I draped my leg over his hips and felt his body against mine, and I inhaled the scent of his cologne, spicy and intoxicating.
I felt his hands on my torso as he gently rolled me onto my back and hovered over me. So gorgeous, this naked man above me.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, his voice gravelly and serious.
“I don’t want you to stop,” I said.
I spread my legs beneath him, heart pounding wildly at the realization of being so incredibly raw and naked with one another. I twisted my legs around his hips and arched myself up toward his body. His breath was heavy, and I wondered what he was thinking. What I was thinking. I don’t know if I was acting out of love, lust, the need to wash away the memories of what had happened earlier that night, or all three. But nothing felt more important than being here with him like this. Under his covers, just the two of us, skin to skin with no barriers between us.
He was kissing my face, my jaw, and I ran my hands up his arms, relishing in the ripple of muscles as he balanced himself on top of me.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Desiree,” he breathed out.
“So have I,” I whispered.
“I’m so in love with you,” he said, and I hummed as I felt the light stubble of his jaw when he kissed my neck, sending an ache between my legs and deep in my abdomen. “I worship you.”
But he didn’t enter me. I wanted him inside of me, and I kissed his shoulders with feverish desperation, wanting to experience all of him that I could.
“Please, Taven,” I begged. “Make love to me, please.” I arched my hips up to him with need.
He held his body still, firm and solid above me as his mouth slowly made its way down my neck, to my chest. I nearly cried out at the feel of his tongue circling my nipple in delicious torture. I looked down, wanting to see the beautiful sight of my Taven, devouring me. It felt erotic as I watched the prick of my nipple disappear into the heat of his mouth, then back out again, over and over as I lifted my hips thinking I might scream with frustration. I steadied my lower half and glided myself over his length, dizzy with the incredible feel of it. We rocked together like that, nearly making love, but not really.
“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck, I want you so badly.”
“Take me, then.”
I felt his hands lace through my hair and squeeze, and I looked up to see his eyes pinched closed in restraint. “We can do this, it’s alright,” I assured him.
“Are you sure, baby?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“I don’t have a condom.”
“I don’t care,” I said, nearly crying out with frustration. I reached between us to grab him when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore. I gripped tightly, he felt so good in my hands, firm yet smooth. This is what I wanted. I would steal this moment with him.
I guided him to my entrance, loving how right it felt with him pressed up against me. He groaned at the contact, and I arched my back to urge him forward.
“Fuck,” he said, and the next thing I knew, he was pushing himself inside of me. Pressed fully against me, pelvis meeting pelvis. It happened in one forceful shove that left me stunned at the suddenness of it, feeling like I was splitting in half. “Desiree, holy fuck,” he groaned out.
Taven was inside of me. Completely in, I thought as I fought the cry I wanted to let out from the pain. “Ow,” I said, I couldn’t help it, followed by a quick “I’m okay” when he lifted himself up to look at me.
“Am I hurting you?” He pulled out slightly and looked at me with such tenderness, I thought I might burst with the love I felt for him in that moment.
“No, I’m fine,” I lied. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, focused on the feel of his chest pressing against me as I squeezed my eyes shut. He pushed back in and the burn ripped through me, but I continued kissing him as he slowly began to move. Gentle at first, then faster and more furious and groaning.
“Taven,” I whispered between kisses and panting breaths. “Yes, Taven.”
“You’re so beautiful, Dazzle. Fucking Christ, you feel so good,” he said, his voice strained. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
I listened to the sound of his voice and tried to relax. Yes, this was happening. Me and Taven. Finally. This was good. It hurt like hell, but it was good.
I knew the first time would be painful, obviously, but I hadn’t expected quite so much.
And as he rocked on top of me, I had the realization that if we had tried this at sixteen, I don’t think I would have gone through with it. I hadn’t seen many men’s penises, but I knew Taven’s was big. And there was no way at sixteen I would have been able to do it. I think I would have been too scared at the first sign of pain, and I would have stopped him.
I thought about all the times a young girl must have been in that position. Made a decision to lose her virginity, only to then want to back out. How many times had a guy forced himself to go through with it anyway, caught in the moment and unwilling to stop at her protests, pushing further and further in until she simply stayed still, praying for it to be over? Realizing this was a bigger moment than she thought it was, to do this act, and filled with regret over the decision to put her trust and care into this guy’s hands?
These were not the thoughts I wanted to be thinking as Taven worked himself into my body. I reminded myself that I was ready for this, that this was a man I loved, a man I had known since we were kids. A man who nearly killed someone tonight, all to rescue me from harm’s way. Yes, this was a man who deserved this gift I was giving him. I was ready for this. I had waited long enough.
So I bravely squeezed my legs tighter around him, and began rocking my hips, ignoring the stings of each thrust. I met his movements and tried to find my rhythm, my nails digging into the flesh of his back as I contended with the feeling, choosing to focus on how deliciously full I felt with Taven inside of me. How right this was. How glad I was that it was him. We were doing this, we were finally having sex.
And then he came inside me, shuddering and vulnerable and beautiful as he hovered over me.
It was done.
The next morning, I carefully rolled out of Taven’s grasp and crawled my naked way out of bed. I found the discarded t-shirt on the floor, slipped it on and went to use the bathroom. It burned, but not too badly. The burn was a strange and comforting reminder that it happened. I finally gave myself to Taven.
I was no longer a virgin.
It felt significant and I wondered if I looked different, if I had some kind of womanly glow to me now. I smiled to myself, thinking about the gravity of what we had shared together.
Then I groaned as my bubble was burst with memories of the hours before that. The shit show that would forever be the story to proceed the night I lost my virginity. Is it possible to be deliciously happy, yet scarred and broken at the same time? Because that’s how I felt.
I went to the kitchen to brew some coffee. As I waited for it to finish, Taven walked in carrying a bundle of bed sheets, kissing me on the cheek as he made his way past me and to the stacked washer and dryer in the corner across from the fridge.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he said as he shoved in the linens and threw in a detergent tablet.
“Laundry this early in the morning?” I asked.
He slammed the glass door closed and turned to me, looking sheepish. “I, ughh, I think you may have started you period.” He grabbed the back of his neck, and I saw a flush creep up his skin.
I tried not to be distracted as I stared at his bare torso and the sweatpants hanging low on his hips. “Oh. No, um. That’s not it.”
Had I really never told Taven that I was still a virgin? Didn’t he assume I would tell him if I slept with anyone?
He dropped his hand from his neck and stepped toward me, cupping my face in his hands. “It’s really okay. I have a sister, remember? Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said before pressing a quick kiss to my lips. He backed away and opened a cabinet, pulling out two mugs as the coffee machine beeped. “Thanks for making coffee, by the way. And for the pills, I think you saved me. Now I’m only at about a level five headache instead of three thousand.”
I watched as he poured us each creamer, then the coffee, handing me mine with a clink of cheers. I sipped and let the creamy vanilla and roast flavors soothe me as I tried to figure out how to say what I needed to say. How to tell him what I had assumed he already knew.
I decided to just say it. “Taven, I was a virgin,” I blurted out when I could no longer take it. I studied him, waiting for his reaction. His eyes blinked back at me over the rim of his cup. Glued to mine, unable to look away .
“I was a virgin, that’s why there was blood,” I repeated, more quietly this time.
Still, he only stared at me. “Vin? Did you hear me?”
I jolted when he slammed his coffee cup down on the laminate counter, some of it sloshing over the side. “Christ, Daz! Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice sounded pained. He ran his hands down his face.
“I’m sorry, I…I guess I thought you knew that. I never told you about sleeping with anyone.”
He dropped his hands and threw them out to his sides. “I figured you were just private about that kind of thing!”
“Are you mad?”
He turned his head to look at me and I tried to read his expression. “Am I mad?”
“Yes, are you mad?”
“A little, yeah.”
“But why?” I asked, my voice small.
He regretted it.
He was mad because he regretted it.
I did it wrong.
Or he thought this was a one-time thing and now he’s mad because he took my virginity, and he feels some obligation to me he hadn’t planned.
My mind spun around all the possible thoughts he was having. “You don’t owe me anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. If this was just a one-time thing.”
His face softened at that, and he reached over to me, pulling me into his arms. I inhaled the masculine scent of him, trying to calm my nerves. I felt him kiss the top of my head. “Jesus, Dazzle. That’s not what I’m worried about. Last night was not a one-time thing, I hope you don’t want it to be. Please tell me you don’t want it to be.”
“I don’t want it to be.”
“Good.”
“Then why are you upset?” I asked, my voice muffled in his chest. I could just hide away here in his chest and never have to face the look in his eyes again. Humiliation was threatening me.
But he pulled me backward and grabbed my arms, looking me square in the eyes. “Because, baby. You deserve so much better than my drunk ass stumbling on top of you for your first time. Don’t you know that?” I said nothing, not wanting to admit that no, I didn’t know that. He gave my arms a shake. “You deserve better than this dingy apartment for the setting. You deserve a night that doesn’t start with,” he squeezed his eyes closed, “some fucker fucking with you followed by me damn near killing him.” He opened his eyes and looked down at me. “Do you know I dreamed about being your first so many times? So many times . For years.”
“You did?”
“Fuck yes, I did.” He hugged me again and I allowed myself to wrap my arms around his waist as he rocked us back and forth in his tiny kitchen, the sound of the washing machine filling the silence. “I want a do-over,” he said. “Last night didn’t count. I want to do it right.”
I laughed. “It definitely counts, I have the soreness to prove it.” I pulled back from him. “Speaking of, how are your hands?”
But before he could answer, I jumped out of his arms at the sound of three loud knocks on the front door. We exchanged questioning looks as we crept to the door. Taven looked through the peephole. He asked who was there, but I could hear the hesitation in his tone. A man’s stern voice answered. The police.
Taven Carlisle was requested for questioning at the station.
Taven Carlisle was under arrest.