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Present
The sweat drips from my back when I enter my apartment. Morning jogs aren’t my usual routine, but after the sexual and tense night with Nick, I felt ready to explode in the morning, I had to do something to clear my mind.
Nick’s fallen like a meteor into my life after years, and the real big bang is my reaction to him. For years, I’ve forbidden myself to think about him. He was just a childish crush, a good dream from my past I didn’t dare to spare a thought about in the present. But since I saw him days ago, I’m all over the place. I’ve felt more things in these few days than in the whole twenty years. I’m feeling excited and nervous, happy, and sad, nostalgic, and scared.
My mind has thousands of questions I don’t have answers for. They’re replaying again and again like a broken record on tape.
Why is he here? Just to let me know what he’s been through?
Why is he rehashing the past instead of carrying on with his life like I’ve been trying to do since he showed up?
Why did he come to me? A weird, broken girl from his past? A girl who he got into jail for…
That’s another thing that makes me fee
l like I’m reading a fictional novel. Nick in jail… that doesn’t make sense in my mind. I have a hard time picturing sweet Nick doing something illegal, something to hurt another person let alone someone who was as strong, authoritative, and terrifying as the Sheriff of our shitty town.
The only thing I know for sure about him is that he’s not the kid I kissed and laughed with anymore. He’s turned into a man that is dark and unpredictable, a man who follows me in the dark and kisses me with a punishing, rough kiss in a dark alleyway. I should be scared, and I am, but not enough to stay away, not enough to stop this strange cat and mouse game where I move, and he follows.
I’m feeling every kind of contrary emotions about him being here. Basically, I’m so confused. I still feel like that little girl who couldn’t wait to see him, who hyperventilated whenever he smiled. But now my feelings aren’t as innocent as they were. Now, I’m turned on by the man who’s become with danger, mystery, and darkness in him. The things that scare me about him are also the things that make me attracted to him. Twisted, I know. But my normality has been taken away from me, ripped from my hands.
I touch my lips with the taste of his kiss on my tongue as I head for the shower. The remainder of his touch in the dark alley sends a shiver through my spine. Even the caress of fabric as I take off my clothes is a turn on when I think about his rough fingers digging into my hips. It took me a long while to open up to sex again, but once I did, I enjoyed the sweet euphoria of it too much to give up on that. Now, I don’t forbid the pleasure in my body, I just let myself take it on my own rules. I like to be in control, and the count of people who are willing to give up theirs can be shocking to some people. Even though the Nick I’ve known seemed to change a lot, I can say that he’s not one of those people. He’s as controlling as I am, maybe even more and that is a strange mix of terrifying and exhilarating.
With a sigh, I step under the spray of warm water. I wish he just spilled the fuck out why he’s here, why after all those years. I try to put myself in his shoes. How would I feel if I was put in jail for someone else? What would I think if I sacrificed my years for someone and lived behind bars? What if that person had never visited me, never showed gratitude to me? How would I feel?
I would be fucking angry.
And if I saw that person who caused it all, what would I do?
I would like to make her fucking pay, that’s what.
If I didn’t know there was something wrong with me, I would notice it now. Because I’ve come to the conclusion he would want revenge, and I still want him, my body is still humming with the image of the past and present colliding together. A second chance is a sweet thing, and it fucks with my mind. My heart tells me that it knows him, and my mind wants to remind me that time changes everything.
I huff with annoyance and get out of the shower. I’m where I was this morning. I’m still confused as hell. When I’m just about to grab a towel, I see an envelope on the bathroom counter. The hair on my neck stands as my breathing becomes faster. I’m positive it wasn’t there when I stepped into the shower. I put the towel there myself.
My head jerks around the bathroom with panic and… and something else, something that makes me high on adrenaline. Maybe anger or maybe something more carnal, I’m not sure.
He’s been here. When I was in the shower.
I decide I’m furious, it’s an emotion that’s so much easier to deal with. He takes away my privacy and comes and goes from my home like it’s his property. I hate that he makes me submit to him even though I have no intention of being submissive to his stalker tendencies. But I can’t lie and say this doesn’t give me a thrill of arousal. Everything about him does.
I walk to my bedroom, finding Night on my bed. He’s happily licking his paws like there’s nothing out of the ordinary at this moment. There was a stranger in my apartment, and there’s no way my cat didn’t hear him. But, he’s not tense or scared like he would be whenever he sees a stranger.
I glare at Night. All the time my door wasn’t locked three times, all the times I found things where they shouldn’t have been, extra mugs… of course he’s gotten Night to his side. And I didn’t notice it until the breakfasts started, such an idiot I was.
“Not cool. Not cool at all, Night,” I murmur and sigh when he looks at me with innocent, big eyes of his.
Finally, curiosity gets the better of me and before even putting on clothes I rip the envelope I’ve been clutching with my hand and start reading the letter.
Nikki,
Another letter I won’t send to you, after ten fucking years behind bars. It shouldn’t have been this long, but nothing goes as planned in jail. Especially, if you’re a teenager. Everyone wants a piece of you, and I had no other choice to cause some damage to those who hurt me. But of course, the fucking system decided to see the moments I became the hunter instead of the victim.
Anyway, I’m not writing to you so you can pity me. I don’t want your fucking pity. I learned not to expect anything from you in these ten years. I’ve finally convinced myself that I don’t mean shit to you. And I’m so fucking angry at you. I should blame you for everything that has happened to me in this rathole, but I can’t. I can just blame you for forgetting me so easily. But that doesn’t change how I still feel about you.
I miss you, Nikki. And I also hate you.
I’ll probably get out of this place in five years if things go smoothly and I hope this time is enough for me to decide which to feel.
