Shame (Ruin #3)(45)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Lisa’s entire body relaxed against my hand. I slipped my other hand behind her head and pulled her in for a kiss, not expecting her to want to kiss me back, expecting her to be timid.

Instead, she launched herself at me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. The keys dropped to the ground forgotten, unimportant as I moaned and opened my mouth to hers.

The kiss was all aggression, all passion, all trusting, and, in that moment, I knew I was never ever letting her go.

Her mouth opened to mine over and over again, giving me intimate access into parts of her I wanted to taste, to explore for as long as she’d let me. My entire body was tight with the need to take her inside. Never had I wanted a girl so desperately. She moaned, tightening her hold around my neck, dipping her hands into my hair and tugging.

I pushed her up against the car, probably scratching it, not caring if it decided to all of a sudden break in half if that meant I could have her right then and there.

She arched her back as I plundered her mouth, my free hand moving from her head down to her sweatshirt. I slowly lifted it so I could expose her skin.

“Thank you,” she panted against my mouth.

My hand lingered as I pulled back and looked at her.

“Please tell me you aren’t thanking me for kissing you,” I teased. “Better yet, prove your thanks and get your mouth back here.”

Lisa smiled, a real smile, and released her legs from my hips, slowly and painfully sliding down my body. “For saying those things… for being you.”

Guilt whispered. I ignored it and pulled her in for another scorching kiss. “Anytime.”

“Drive.” She nodded. “We should drive before—”

“Before I take you upstairs and throw the keys into the lake? Yeah, we should do that.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

The sirens were so loud my head pounded. By the time I reached my car, I saw more cars had pulled up, including a black unmarked vehicle. A gentleman stepped out, dressed in a suit and sunglasses — which was weird. I mean, it was close to midnight. I shivered, my hand on the ignition. If I drove off, I could get in trouble. But I didn’t care. He was gone, and I didn’t care. I felt nothing. Maybe that had been his plan all along — to get me to turn into an exact replica of him. Heartless, numb. —Mel

Lisa

I HIT THE ACCELERATOR as we turned a corner and gasped as the feeling of adrenaline coursed through me. Adrenaline had always been bad. I’d associated it with the things Taylor had me do.

Because the God’s honest truth? When I first met him… it had been exciting, exhilarating. He’d had me start small, little things. It wasn’t like he’d just asked me straight up to ruin someone’s life. No, it had been small, little justifications I’d made in order to appease him, and after each justification had come an even greater reward. Someone older than me — rich, sexy, dangerous — wanted me and thought I was sexy. I’d never felt sexy. I was always too tall, too lanky and thin to feel sexy. My body was a mannequin, but Taylor’d made me feel like a goddess when he touched me — when he worshiped me. The least I could do was listen to him when he when he asked for tiny little favors.

And when I made him laugh or groan with excitement, I, in turn, had gotten excited because I was the cause. Only… after a while, I needed to do more and more in order to have that adrenaline rush. He hadn’t warned me that would happen and by the time I looked in the mirror and hated myself, it was like I no longer had a voice.

“What are you staring at?” Taylor came up from behind and wrapped his arms around my body. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m ugly.” I averted my eyes. “What I’m doing is ugly.”

“Ugly…” Taylor repeated, gripping my chin tightly in his hand, forcing me to look at my own reflection. “…is just a term people use to categorize things they don’t understand. Some days you’re ugly,” he whispered in my ear. “But those are the days I love you the most, because you’re at your worst. And isn’t that what true love is, Mel? When I can look at you in the eyes and say I love you, despite the darkness inside? Despite the ugly? See?” He grinned menacingly. “We’re perfect for each other, because I get you and you get me.”

I shivered, hitting the brake so hard that the car swerved.

“Lisa.” Tristan put his hand on my shoulder. “Sometimes it’s okay to go fast…”

“He was so confusing,” I whispered. “Like what he said to me always made sense, Tristan. It always made sense. I mean, it was like my brain was cobwebs, and he’d pull a bit away, and I’d feel better — but only for a while. Then the confusion would happen again, and he’d make it better. But it never lasted. And when I finally started questioning him, he turned on me. But it was like he expected it, like it was just another stage of our relationship. I felt… manipulated.” I shook my head at Tristan. “I don’t want to feel that way again, like I don’t have a voice. Like even my thoughts are being silenced.”

Tristan gripped my right hand. “I will never make you feel that way, Lisa. Nobody deserves to be silenced.”

My chest heaved like I’d just been jogging.

“Do you want to go back?” Tristan asked after a moment. “Because we really don’t have to keep driving fast…”

“He made all the good feelings shameful.” My voice cracked. “So no, Tristan. I don’t want to go back. I’m going to go forward.”

His eyes lit up as he leaned back against the seat. “Then by all means, beautiful, drive.”

All things considered, I’m surprised I didn’t get a speeding ticket. By the time we reached Tristan’s house, I’d been driving like a NASCAR escapee for the past hour. It had been years since I’d felt so exhilarated, so alive.

I parked the car, hopped out, and grinned, gliding my fingertips along the smooth red fender like it had just given me a gift.

“It’s yours.” Tristan came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Whenever you want to drive it, it’s yours.”

I laughed nervously. “For a second there, I thought you were giving me a car.”

“Oh, I am.” He released me. “But I figured you’d say no if I just came out and said, ‘Hey, Lisa, take it home.’ So you can keep it here, but I think you’ve left your mark on it as much as it’s left its mark on you. It would be a tragedy for me to ever get behind that wheel when it’s meant for your body.”