"Thank you," I say. "I'm glad you showed up."
He looks at me. Reaching his hand out, he cups my cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb. "I'll always show up."
"You promise?"
"I swear it."
I'm sitting on the bed, the note from my mother sprawled out on my lap. My gaze shifts through the numbers over and over, reciting them to memory. I'm stalling, I know it, and maybe it's senseless, but I'm almost afraid to call her.
She'll have questions.
Much the same ones I have for her.
What are you doing?
Where are you staying?
Why?
My answers are probably more scandalous than hers.
Sighing, I pull out my phone and dial the number, bringing it to my ear as it rings. I wait, almost expecting some sort of answering machine to greet me, when the line picks up. "Hello?"
This is not my mother. This voice is male, gruff with a thick sort of accent. I sit in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say or how to react, when he says it again, impatiently. "Hello?"
"I, uh… can I speak with Carrie?"
"Who?"
My stomach drops as I glance down at the paper. I know I got the numbers right. "Carrie," I say. "Carrie Reed?"
"Ah, yeah, hold on." I hear shuffling, then his muffled voice rings out in the background. "Carmela! I think it's her!"
My brow furrows. Carmela?
There's another rustling before a breathy voice picks up. "Kissimmee? Is it you?"
"Uh, yeah. What's going on, Mom? Who's that guy? Why'd he call you Carmela?"
"Never mind that now," she says dismissively. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Me? I'm fine. Where have you been? I've been worried!"
"I needed to move on, sweetheart. I told you that when you visited. It was time."
"You said you were thinking about it," I say. "I didn't expect you to pick up and leave everything behind. I went to check on you and—"
"You've been to the house? Was it ransacked?"
"Uh, no… why would it be?"
"No reason," she says. "Look, I can't really get into it on the phone. I'll explain everything, I will… I just need you to come see me. Can you do that, Kissimmee? It's important."
"I guess."
"Come alone," she says. "Okay? It's important nobody else know where I am. Understand?"
I understand, all right. She's snapped. All those years of running from memories and chasing phantoms has caught up to her, and she's lost what little sanity she had left. There's a difference between being crazy and being insane, and I'm terrified she's tiptoed over that line these past few weeks. "I'll come alone. Just tell me where you are."
She spouts off an address, and I scour through the drawers until I find a pen to scribble it down. She once more reiterates my need to come alone before hanging up, not once asking me how I am or where I've been or what I've been doing.
I toss my phone down on the bed beside me as I stare at the address. New Jersey. It wouldn't take me too long, half a day to get there, get my answers, and get back here to Brooklyn. Maybe I can convince her to come back with me, get some sort of help, because whatever she's doing isn't normal.
"What do you have there?"
I glance up as Naz walks in the room.
"It's, uh… a note Melody gave me," I say, shrugging as I fold it up and shove it back in my pocket. "I had coffee with her today, you know, before the whole interrogation thing."
I would tell him if he asked, tell him the truth about the letter, about talking to my mother, but he doesn't raise the subject any further. He pauses in front of me, grasping my chin and pulling my face up to look at him. He leans down to kiss me, his lips soft and sweet.
All it takes is a simple touch from this man and I melt. His presence always makes the bad seem not so bad, the good just so much better, the world around me so beautiful and brand new. He makes me feel special, and safe, like the universe could be crumbling but he'd keep the ground beneath my feet secure.
He wipes my worries away.
I'll deal with my mother tomorrow.
Tonight, I only want him.
With trembling hands, I reach out and start unbuttoning his shirt. He lets me, never breaking the kiss, his hands cradling my head. He pulls away when he has to, letting his clothes drop to the floor, leaving him naked in front of me.
Light filters in from outside, enough so I can make out every contour of his body. I want to trace every line, caress every crevice, taste his flesh with my tongue, and show him how much I love him with my lips. He sits down on the bed and reaches for me again, but I slip from his grasp and drop to my knees on the floor instead.
His expression is strained as he stares down at me. I wrap my hand around the hard shaft and stroke a few times, watching him, before lowering my head into his lap. I flick my tongue out, tasting the tip of him.
An unnatural groan vibrates his chest.
His hands stroke my hair as I take him into my mouth. I can't take all of him—can barely take half of him. I've never tried to satisfy a man like Naz, so I just go at it and hope for the best.
It doesn't last long before he stops me. Grabbing a hold of my arms, he pulls me up onto the bed with him, whispering, "That's enough, Karissa."
"Was it not good?" I ask nervously.
"It was great," he says quietly. "But you shouldn't ever kneel in front of me."
I'm not sure whether to be flattered or offended, but he gives me little chance to be either. He takes over, stripping me as he pulls me deeper onto the bed with him.
He lies back, letting me climb on top of him. I sink down on him, taking him inside of me, a chill running down my spine when I hear him groan again. The sound is so primal, unrestrained.
I ride him, grinding against him, arching my back and taking him in as far as he can go. His hands are on my hips, but he doesn't guide me, for the first time since we've been together he's letting me do the work.
I can tell when he's getting close. My hands are on his chest, covering his scars, feeling his heartbeat against my palm. It's racing, although he looks relaxed, his stomach muscles clenching as his eyes close.
I can feel it as he comes, filling me with all of him. He groans again, this time louder, his grip on my hips tighter. When he relaxes, I stop moving, and he opens his eyes to look at me. I offer him a tentative smile, but he doesn't return it, knocking mine off my face when he yanks me off of him, onto the bed, and settles on top of me.
I yelp, caught off guard, as he nuzzles into my neck, nipping at the skin. "That wasn't easy for me."