27. Hate, Love, Escape
27
HATE, LOVE, ESCAPE
Dahlia
The Present
P repared to fight him off tooth and nail if necessary, I make my way to the door when he catches me by the back of my dress, hooking his finger through the top and yanking on the zipper. A yelp leaves my lips and I quickly reach behind me to keep the black sequin fabric together in case he intends on ripping it. Instead, he spins me around and grips me by the chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
He opens his mouth as if to speak but falls short of anything to say. The look he gives me nearly steals the breath from my lungs. I can take his anger, his jealousy, even his indifference. What I can’t stand is being met with is his vulnerability. Alejandro doesn’t often allow anyone into the inner sanctum of his heart and mind but when he does, the intensity with which he experiences emotions and the world could break a person’s heart. I hate how weak his vulnerability makes me. I hate that I still respond to it and hate even more how he knows and uses it against me.
Alejandro brings my mouth to his and he’s met with a little less resistance this time around. I force him away from me, push his hands aside every time he tries to touch me, and refuse to kiss him back. Yet somewhere between rejecting him and fleeing for the door, I find myself wanting to be kissed by him. And eventually, the resistance stops. It transforms into insistence, desperation. My fists are knotted in the fabric of his button down as I pull him closer and his lips part against the pressure of my own, allowing my tongue entrance into his mouth. I explore with deep, greedy strokes and he hums with pleasure, pulling me closer.
I can’t remember why I was fighting against him in the first place. I don’t know why…I don’t know.
I just don’t know what I’m doing anymore.
Desire blossoms inside me as a rush of heat sweeps through my body. Alejandro walks us backward and I brace for the moment he throws me down on the couch except it never happens. We keep moving and cool glass touches my shoulder blades. My entire body seizes.
“Alex—”
He spins me around and pins me to the glass window. Designed to overlook the dance floor, the floor to ceiling window dips forward, a sort of optical illusion to make it feel as if the person looking out through the glass is going to fall into the pit below. I’ve never been afraid of heights but I have no idea how thick or strong this window is. My heart leaps into my throat when I feel the weight of Alejandro’s body against me, pushing me further into the glass.
“Stop,” I reach for him behind me. “The glass?—”
“The glass is worrying you more than the people?”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
Yes…yes, it’s the people too.
Anyone can see us up here if the strobe lights hanging from the ceiling hit us at the right angle. Red, blue, and purple beams flicker throughout the nightclub and every fifteen minutes or so the confetti canons go off. On cue, there’s a confetti explosion and I jump, ready to retreat to the safety of the room when Alejandro drags his hands up the length of my thighs and lingers on the hem of my mini dress.
He speaks very quietly at my ear. “Open your legs for me.”
Frantically, I shake my head. “We can’t?—”
When I try to clench my thighs shut, he forces his knee between them, keeping them apart. “ Open , Dahlia.”
Oh my God…what am I doing?
I rest my forehead against the glass, hoping the rush of cold will provide some relief to my sizzling body but it never comes. Inch by inch my thighs spread and the hem of my dress rises higher and gathers at my hips. His touches are subtle and intentional, drawing circles across the apex of my thighs and gliding over the fabric of my underwear but never more than that.
“Ask me.”
I shake my head. I can’t. I won’t.
“Is it because you’re afraid someone will see?” he presses his cheek against mine and looks out at the hundreds of people dancing below us, completely oblivious to what’s happening above their heads. “Are you embarrassed?”
In refusing to answer, I’ve provoked him into touching me without permission and as wrong as it is, I can’t help but feel ignited by it. It’s absolutely thrilling .
He slips a finger under the lace edge of my underwear and drags it down the length of me, stopping briefly to circle my entrance before coming back up.
“Spread your legs wider.”
My heart is pounding inside my chest, harder and faster than it ever has and I’m terrified I’m on the verge of a heart attack. Alejandro adds another finger and massages my swollen clit with such finesse and expertise, my hips move of their own volition, grinding against his hand as embarrassing sounds of pleasure leaves my lips. The orgasm never quite reaches its peak and release evades me at every turn. He enters me with a single finger and the walls of my sex clench around him. Again, he strokes and thrusts but it’s without satisfaction because he’s working at a torturous pace.
I try turning my head to meet his gaze. “Alex, please?—”
With a free hand locked in my hair, he twists his fingers and my scalp stings as he forces me against the glass. “Focus. Look down.”
I can’t. If I do, what if the light hits us? What if people are watching?
What if I like it?
I clench my jaw and give a frantic shake of the head.
“Why not? I’m watching.” He adds a second finger and picks up the pace. This time he moves with purpose, fingers curving inside me each time he thrusts upward and my back arches against him, desperate for more. “I want them to see what you look like when you come for me. The hazy, far-off look in your eyes, the way your lips part just slightly as a little gasp leaves your lips.”
Maybe it’s the drink I had earlier, leftover anxiety from this evening, or a combination of the two but I find myself searching for—and hoping to find—someone looking up at us. Using just his fingers, Alejandro brings me to the cusp of climax and presses the palm of his hand against my aching clit, ensuring enough pressure to heighten the pleasure. His hand pumps in and out, in and out, picking up speed and intensity and the sharp change in pace and tempo sends me barreling toward release with a scream on my lips.
And someone does look up.
A stranger, undoubtedly, who won’t recognize us from this far up but knows what we’re doing because one of the strobe lights flashes through the glass at that exact moment, illuminating us from the collarbone down. They can see his hand between my legs, one arm around my waist, while I brace myself against the glass. Although fleeting, the moment is enough to unleash an unspoken desire within me. I don’t have much time to ruminate on it as Alejandro picks me up and throws me over the couch armrest.
“Brace yourself.” It’s the only warning I receive before he sheathes himself inside me.
Alejandro thrusts down to the hilt, sliding home without resistance. Fuck , he feels so good. In this position, with him behind and me with my face plastered against the couch cushions, he’s able to hit the place inside me that sends me to another dimension. There’s nothing romantic or tender about the way he ruts into me and each vicious plunge forces a strangled cry from my throat. I try to brace myself against something because aside from being deep, his movements are forceful, and I keep sliding further away from him on the couch. The armrest isn’t useful for much except lifting my hips at a desirable angle so I grab the back of the couch with one hand and grip the bottom with the other in order to stay in place.
He pulls out to the tip, rams into me, and just as quickly pulls out again. It stings when he thrusts and reaches too deep but instead of pulling away, I lift my hips, begging for more.
Alejandro leans forward and covers my back with his body. I feel his lips move against my ear as he whispers, harsh and rugged, “Does he touch you the way I do?”
I shake my head. “No,” I answer. “No one ever has.”
“If another man touches you after this, he’s dead. Do you understand?” His hand moves over my shoulder and wraps around my neck from behind. He pushes my head back and forces me to meet his gaze as he pistons into me from behind. “ No one, Dahlia. Because I’ll kill him and then us.”
Unlike before where his threats were made in fits of jealousy and rage, I know he means it this time. The look he gives me, one of fierce devotion and possession, is warning enough but even if it wasn’t, I had done as he asked me to anyway.
Because after him, there isn’t anyone else.
“Kiss me,” I beg. “Please?—”
I barely get the word out before his lips are crushing mine. It’s wet and hot and messy and our tongues tangle together as we fight for dominance. Pressure builds inside me and he tightens his grip around my throat as he fucks me from behind while I lower a hand to touch myself. With the hand not around my throat, he touches the sensitive place between my thighs and covers my fingers with his own. Instead of following my own strokes he guides me up and down the length of my sex as if to teach me how to do it. He shows me how to touch the way he does, guiding his fingers in the same motions he’d used to make me come against the glass window while someone on the dancefloor below watched.
It all becomes too much.
I orgasm long and hard and he follows soon after, spilling inside me with a harsh grunt. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and smothers the sound, almost as if he doesn’t want me to hear. Seconds bleed into minutes and it takes longer than usual for us to catch our breath.
It was different this time. I think we both feel it.
I hate how guilty I feel every time I give myself over to him. I’ve betrayed Rian when he’s been nothing but good to me, given in to this toxic dynamic, and blown up the world around me in the process. What am I even doing anymore? What’s the point in trying to push him away when I let him do this to me? And why am I still pushing him away?
Alejandro stands and puts himself to rights. I sit up on the couch and do my best to make myself presentable, but his silence irks me. It reminds me of all the times he’d come home late, reach for me in the night, and after doing what he wanted with my body, returned to the fortress of his thoughts while I remained out in the cold.
“What?” I can’t help the bitterness that leaks into my voice. “No sweet nothings and gentle kisses?”
His eyes are surprisingly empty when they meet mine. “If you wanted gentle, you should’ve fucked Rian.”
“Rian doesn’t?—”
Alejandro sighs. Deeply. “Shut up.”
He says it without malice or bite, only an acute exhaustion that seeps into the air around us. No use in lying to ourselves or each other because the truth continues to prevail.
I hate him. I love him. I can’t escape him.
T he house is dark and quiet when I arrive. Do?a Ana is usually asleep at this time but I’m surprised Lyss isn’t around as she usually stays up later than the rest of us.
I hang up my coat and kick off my shoes. Exhaustion weighs heavily on me and I barely make it upstairs to my bedroom before collapsing. I cry myself to sleep and watch the hours tick by on the clock across the room. Around four, I manage to drag myself out of bed and sit under the shower for another hour. By the time I pull a comb through my knotted hair and get dressed, it’s almost six and a knock on my bedroom door almost sends me out of my skin.
“Sorry,” Lyss whispers as she sticks her head inside. “I saw the light on. What are you doing up so early?”
“More like I never went to bed. Not properly at least.” I grab the remote and turn on the news but keep the volume muted so the subtitles appear. “Come in.”
Lyss steps inside and closes the door behind her. I notice her hair pulled back in a ponytail and she has makeup on though it’s faded. Although she’s in pajamas, it’s clear she only just got home; her cheeks and nose are still red from the cold.
“Are you okay? Where have you been?”
She climbs onto the bed and hugs a pillow against her chest. “At the hospital with my mom.”
Alarm bells ring in the back of my mind. “Is your dad…”
“Oh, yes he’s fine! Sorry, I probably should’ve led with that. He has a very mild case of walking pneumonia but as you can imagine, Mom freaked out. With his condition he’s at a higher risk for complications so she took him to the emergency room.”
I nod and sit on the edge of the bed, continuing to brush out the last few stubborn knots from the ends of my hair. “You know if you need anything just let me know.”
This time when Lyss flushes with color, it has nothing to do with the cold. Shifting uncomfortably against the headboard, Lyss reaches into her pocket and produces a slip of paper. White-knuckled and trembling, she glides her fingers along the edges of the paper before eventually extending it to me.
“I used your account to make a wire transfer to the hospital and paid the bill. I’m sorry,” she blurts out. “I panicked, and Mom is between jobs right now and I didn’t know what to do because I don’t get paid until next Friday and because she isn’t working, they don’t have health insurance and?—”
“ Alyssa .” I cast the bill aside for a moment and touch her wrist. “It’s okay. Don’t freak out.”
“I’m going to pay it back,” she insists.
I take a glance at the bill and the number of zeroes and almost laugh. “Don’t bother. You couldn’t afford it anyway.” A thought occurs to me. “How did you pay for it again?”
“Wire transfer.”
“From what account?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip and shrugs. “I don’t know. Whichever account ends in 828, that’s the one I have memorized.”
This time, I do laugh. “If you’re able to memorize that many numbers, then you’re welcome to whatever’s in that account. Seriously.” I give her hand a squeeze. “ Especially for your dad. You’re my best friend. What’s the point in having all of this if I can’t share it with you?”
Lyss manages a strained smile. “Yeah. Alejandro should know by now; we’re a package deal.”
I know she means it in jest but just the mention of his name throws me off balance. My chest tightens and my throat burns with the urge to cry all over again. Lyss studies me a moment.
“Hey…are you okay?” she asks. “How did everything go tonight? I meant to call you but I got held up at the hospital.”
“Everything went as planned.”
She tilts her head. “Maybe not…considering the look on your face right now.”
“On a scale from one to ten how shitty of a friend have I been the last year?”
“A solid three point five but after tonight, I’ll bump you up to a seven. If you want to reach a nine, you should buy me the new Dyson.”
“Lyss.”
“Dee, it’s pink !”
“Do you really want me to buy your friendship?”
“ Yes .” She chuckles and moves across the bed to pull me in for a hug. “I love gifts. They’re my love language.”
I wrap my arms around her and hold on tighter than I should because I don’t notice when she tries to pull away. After a moment, Lyss smooths a hand down the back of my damp hair before touching my cheek.
“Dee?”
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head and drag my palms across my wet cheeks. “I’m just tired?—”
“You aren’t tired. Something’s wrong. Was it Rian?” I shake my head. “Alejandro? Was he bothering you again? Tell me right now because the next time he comes around, I’ll shove both his fucked-up hands into a blender!”
A sound leaves me, a cross between laughter and a scoff, as I dry my tears. “Lyss…what the fuck am I doing with my life?”
“That sounds more like a question for you and Jesus.”
“Seriously. What the fuck am I doing? I don’t even know anymore,” I tell her. “Almost all my relationships are shot to Hell and I have no plans for myself beyond graduation. Not to mention that my finances are going to change drastically now that I’ve severed ties between Alex and me.”
My voice falters and I feign a cough to hide it but Lyss knows me too well.
“You’re still in love with him,” she states matter-of-factly.
There’s no use hiding it but I’m too much of a coward to admit as much aloud.
She presses her lips together. “Then what are you doing with Rian?”
“Don’t say it like that. As if I don’t care about him too. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
“Then how was it supposed to happen, Dee? Because you don’t even seem to know yourself.”
I was supposed to be in Barcelona. Happy and in love in Barcelona, living in my beautiful house with all its treasures and the things I saved with my own two hands. We were supposed to celebrate holidays and birthdays together and fill the place with laughter and memories but none of that happened. The first and only time in my life where I decided to trust my instincts and let go of my need to control, it blew up in my face.
“If you’re still in love with him, why don’t you go back with him?”
“Because I don’t want the life he’s offering.”
And I’d rather live the rest of my life alone than go back to that.