Devil's Despair: Travis's Stand Part 19

Finally, she's putting aside her anger and getting a f.u.c.king clue. "Yes. It was important Ellie know whatever we had was over and I wanted her to hear it from me, face to face. She deserved that."

Sarah rolls her red eyes at me, then states in a mocking tone, "Well, you were f.u.c.king her, I'm sure she deserved the very best."

"I never f.u.c.ked her." It's hard to admit this and Sarah will question if it's true or not, but I've never lied to her.

"Right."

Keeping my tone level, I say again, "We didn't have s.e.x."

Her nostrils flare, just briefly, before she asks, "If she was here for you to break up with her, why the h.e.l.l didn't you say that right after she left then? d.a.m.n it, Travis!"

I keep my calm posture, but my hands clutch the dresser in case I need to be braced for the bottle in her hand to come my way. "Because seeing your reaction to Ellie was what I wanted."

"What you wanted? Travis, you say I make you crazy, right?" I nod so she keeps going. "I don't do that on purpose! What you did was on purpose and it was mean!"

"No," I stop her from continuing. "I did it to see how upset you'd get."

"Mean!" she reiterates.

"I did it to get your gut reaction and I got it."

s.h.i.+fting the beer bottle between her legs, she crosses her arms over her chest and leans against her headboard. "What reaction was that?"

"You want us. I wasn't absolutely sure before now, but you've confirmed it. You want this too."

"I threw my coffee pot!"

"You only throw paperclips, though, remember?"

She ignores my comment and presses what she feels is more important. "I need coffee in the morning, Travis!"

"You do."

Moving the bottle from her legs, she places it on her nightstand and starts to stand.

"I cleaned the mess," I tell her in case that's what's on her mind.

"Good. You should've. It was your fault."

She's standing only three feet from me and my hands want to reach out, grab her, and bring her to me, but I can't. This has to be her move. She has to claim whatever it is she wants and if she doesn't I will, but I'd like her to own this moment. It's important she does.

"Now what?" she asks with confusion.

"Now, I tell Ace."

"So, this is for sure what you want?"

"That's not obvious?"

"I'm Sarah, Travis. You know you have to explain s.h.i.+t to me."

"You're ridiculous and a little crazy, yes. But I shouldn't have to explain us. You've known me for-f.u.c.king-ever. When have you ever known me to not to know what I want?"

She stands still, her arms at her sides. Her face is still red, and her hair has fallen down on each shoulder; her small body is drowning in my clothes.

"Never," she utters.

"What do you want, Sarah?" I ask, breaking into her thoughts.

"You," she whispers and bites her bottom lip in worry.

I feel her answer hit my chest with a familiar ease. I close my eyes briefly and commit this moment to memory.

I let her sit and stew after her final answer. I don't move my hands from the dresser and keep my feet crossed.

Seconds go by. Finally I ask, "Then what the f.u.c.k are you doin' all the way over there?"

Her eyes light up, she releases her lip and smiles. Her body crashes into mine before I have time to ready myself. Her arms clutch my neck and her body trembles against me as she holds on tight.

"Jesus Christ, you wear me out. You always have," I say over her shoulder.

"I know, Trav. I don't know how to change," she says over mine.

"I'd be p.i.s.sed if you did," I return, kissing her neck.

Smiling through her words, she says, "I can't f.u.c.king win."

Laughing through mine, I reply, "You never could."

Sarah's happy.

We both are.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Travis AFTER SARAH AND I spent the next thirty minutes in a frenzied and tangled embrace, which in a sense finalized our commitment to one another, we lie in her bed. She's got her body wrapped around my side and my fingers are roaming the expanse of her back. For the last few minutes neither of us has spoken.

Hayden sent me a text before Sarah showed up tonight in the midst of my goodbye to Ellie and explained Devon hadn't yet filed charges. Right now the only thing I've got pending is disturbing the peace, but Hayden is confident his dad can work it out.

I'm still not sorry about what I did. The rich f.u.c.ker had it coming. Sarah most likely wasn't the only woman he's pulled that s.h.i.+t on.

"Have you read the letter?" I ask bluntly, breaking the relaxed moment we were enjoying. I know she hasn't opened it, but I want to bring it up carefully and have no other way to do it. I'm not accustomed to Sarah in a s.e.xual sense yet, but figure now is as good a time as any in case she decides to bolt.

"No."

"I'm gonna need you to do that."

"I can't. I'm not ready."

Sighing, I pull her closer to me and kiss the crown of her head. "You'll never be ready."

"When your dad died, how long before you were able to let him go?"

"I still haven't."

The truth comes out before I'm able to stop it. I'm with Sarah, she knows me, she remembers what my life was like the year following his death. She also remembers Raegan coming into our lives not too long after that, and her presence, even with her not knowing it, helped me through my grief.

"You still miss him," she whispers.

"Every f.u.c.kin' day," I tell her.

"Tell me what you remember of your mom," she asks me, but doesn't know what she's asking of me.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything. You've always shared with the guys, but never me."

I laugh, I can't help it. "You were too busy with Barbies and baking, Sarah. You couldn't sit still long enough for me to read you a book, let alone tell you about my mom."

"I'm listening now," she says.

Kissing her head, I return, "You are."

"Well?"

Clearing my throat and figuring out where to start, I tell her what I know I remember for certain. "Mom was flighty. She would be calm one minute, then yelling at my dad the next. I remember she randomly brought a dog home once."

"As in, just decided to bring a dog home?"

"Yes," I answer. "I couldn't tell you the size of it, cause at my age any dog would've been a big one. I remember my dad wasn't happy with it. That weekend the doorbell rang. Turns out, my mom had stolen the dog from the neighbors down the street and they happened to catch my dad letting it outside that morning."

"Oh s.h.i.+t."

"Yeah. It wasn't good. I don't remember her reasoning, but Dad was f.u.c.kin' p.i.s.sed."

"I liked your dad a lot."

"He'd like that we're together, I think."

"I drove him crazy, though."

She's right. She did. When Dad would ask if Sarah was coming over with Ace and I'd confirm it, I remember Dad's expression. Sarah would corner him, wherever he was in the house, and ask him a zillion questions, while Ace and I hung out in the bas.e.m.e.nt and messed around with our music sheets and equipment.

"You drove him crazier than you do me, I think."

"He was so nice to me. You're not."

"I was nice a few minutes ago. Do I need to remind you of this again already?"

"My a.s.s hurts. You can't hit me that hard."

I laugh, grabbing her and positioning her on top of me. I move the hair that's draping around our faces and tug it gently. "I don't hit you."

"You slapped my a.s.s! It's the same!"

I pull her hair harder and she gasps in my mouth as I kiss her. The feel of her tongue on mine in such an a.s.sertive way leaves me breathless.

"Aggressive," she states, rolling off me and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Where are you goin' now?"

"Bathroom. It's a reasonable request, isn't it?"

"Three minutes."

She stands, turns around, and looks down at me. Her naked body isn't my focus, although I'd never get enough of looking at it. I'm staring at her hard expression.

"You're not timing me in the bathroom, Travis. That's ridiculous."

"If you're not back in three minutes, I'll come in to get you-ridiculous or not."

Her nose scrunches and she winces at the visual. "You're sick."

Sitting up, I get out on the opposite side, make my way to her, and step in close. She starts inching backward, step by step, with a smile on her face as she realizes I'm coming after her. I heave her over my shoulder, give her a.s.s a quick slap, and continue moving out the bedroom door.

"That's my a.s.s you keep hitting."

"Spanking," I state. "I don't hit you," I correct again.

"Well, stop doing that. It hurts."

"Stop buggin' me and I won't have to."

"Jerk," she calls me, and I feel her teeth sink into my lower back right after.

"You drive me nuts," I tell her as we exit her room.

"You love it," she returns.

"I probably do."