Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Additional Disclaimer: This chapter contains MILD allusions to drug use. I'm notifying you all as a courtesy. I'm not condoning or advocating it, simply using it as a device. However, if you don't approve, just skip over the first section of this chapter. ;)
Suggested Listening: "Into The Past" by Nero, "Roads" by Portishead, "You Will Become" by Glen Hansard, "Thankless Marriage" by Spokane
Everything was on fire.
She could see him move in the darkness, body rising, her own rocking back. Everything in slow motion. The familiar room completely dark except for the red light of a sign seeping through the window. Matching the flames. Spreading agonizingly slow across his features. She blinked, the movement much too slow. Much too drawn out.
Fingernails scraped across the flesh of her back, and her eyes opened wide. Knees pressed hard into a mattress that wasn't hers. Lips parting, her voice taking its time to catch up to the rest of her.
A rough cry escaped Leah's mouth, head tipping back as cool arms jerked her body toward a hard chest. Her flesh glistened, covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Mixing with his, the scent simmered through her body.
The fire was everywhere by then. Inside her, around her, on his tongue as he drug it roughly up the space between her breasts. Tasting her. She trembled viscerally, arching her body toward him, when he didn't leave a single drop behind.
He hummed against her skin, lips parting as warm pants of air puffed across her skin.
"How's it feel?"
The high. He was talking about the high. She didn't want to think now. It's why she had done it. Why she'd simply smiled when he handed her the little white pill. Swallowing it without a second thought.
Sometimes, what she was doing – hips flexing as Jason pushed himself inside her – wasn't enough. Sometimes, it wasn't enough to feel anything. To forget...
Sometimes, she needed a little help.
And at that moment, she could feel everything. The heat racing through her veins was euphoric. His movements ethereal. Her head swimming with a vicious want. The scent of passion, arousal, and a carnal desire tangible in the warm air.
This was what she wanted.
What she needed...
Leah writhed in the man's lap, wrapping her long, copper legs around his midsection, crying out as he pushed into her again. Rocking forward, she took his bottom lip between her teeth, tugging until he moaned.
Releasing it, she drug her mouth down the skin just next to his lips.
"Shut up," she growled, the sound coming in a voice she didn't recognize. Lower. Filled with a need she wasn't capable of on her own. "Just fuck me...that's all I want to feel..."
Closing her eyes, she let herself surrender to the heat. To the feel of his rough, thick fingers digging into her back. To the movement of her body leaning back, one hand curling tightly around crumpled sheets. Bracing herself. To the way the drug coursing through her veins heightened everything, even though the blood in her body made it impossible for it to last more than a handful of minutes.
It didn't matter. For now, she held onto it. Making every movement unreal. Allowing her lips to curl into a delirious smile as he pushed. As he pulled.
As she fell, his hands digging hard into her hips. Hard enough to hurt her.
But he never did.
None of them did, and that was how she liked it.
This is who I am...
Something she could walk away from whenever she wanted...
.
Trying to pull her fingers through her rain-soaked hair, Leah realized it was useless a moment before she heard the footsteps behind her. The rest of the house was silent, and even from where she stood she could hear the soft pattering of rain on the roof two stories above.
But his footsteps were louder.
"You didn't need to come in here with me," she mumbled, her body swaying forward. Her mind a hazy mess, eyes stinging and swollen. Swaying forward, her fingers caught the edge of the sink, curling around it for dear life. She closed her eyes when she heard him breathe in. When he didn't move.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Embry's whisper bled with worry, and it stole the breath from her lungs. She didn't deserve his concern.
She didn't want it...
"I'm fine," she lied, which was pointless. She was certain he could hear her heart pounding. That there was some way he could feel the tight, consuming ache in her chest, just like he'd be able to if they were phased. That he would know it wasn't the truth. "You should go," she pressed on, the words choked as they worked from her throat. "My mom's gonna be home soon. I'm gonna have to...explain to her...and Seth too. "
The ache throbbed at the simple mention of her brother's name, and it killed her. It killed her because it would touch him too. She wasn't sure how, but he would pay for it...what she'd done. Just like she was.
At the same time, it killed her because she couldn't think of him without thinking of Sam. Without thinking of Emily. What he was a part of...
It all tied together.
It all came back to that.
"Sam's gonna come looking for you, Leah...you know he is." Embry's voice was closer now, like he'd finally stepped into the kitchen. Far away, but still close.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head wildly. "Well, there's nothing you can do to stop it then..."
"No," he murmured, "but I can be here. If he comes..."
"And do what?" she cried out, eyes snapping open, her legs suddenly turning her around to face him. He was standing just inside the kitchen door, watching through narrow, insistent eyes. His lips pursed with determination.
By the look on his face, it was almost like he would do anything she asked of him. All she had to do was speak the words.
"What the hell do you think you're gonna do, Embry?" she pushed, the ache lowering. Settling in her stomach, fanning through her veins as she once again started to tremble. "He's your Alpha...there's nothing you can do."
"I know, but..." He was still looking at her, but his eyes shifted. Bouncing back and forth like they were searching, trying to come up with a better reason. Trying to come up with some kind of argument against hers.
Leah sighed, arms heavy, her entire body lethargic. On the verge of shutting down completely, she couldn't take much more.
"You need to go," she breathed, doing her best to steel herself. To hide the war inside her. "I'm not...worth the trouble."
Her jaw tight, she forced her feet to move, approaching Embry. Ignoring how he watched her, lips parted helplessly, unspoken words lingering.
Her arm brushed his fingers when she went to pass him.
"Leah..."
She couldn't move, her wrist suddenly encased by sturdy fingers. He was standing next to her, and her eyes traveled down to see where his hand curled around her arm. Landing there, trying to comprehend it before they moved up his frame, eventually finding his insistent eyes looking down at her.
Wanting to pull away, she could if she tried...but she didn't. She couldn't fight; there was none left in her. When he turned, she didn't step back. She didn't move away. He moved too fast, and suddenly her wrist was freed but his hands were somewhere else. On her cheeks. Framing her face. Forcing her to look at him. Forcing her to listen.
Brows pulling low over his eyes, he took a deep breath through his nose, holding her there.
She was frozen, his eyes holding hers just as they had in his truck. Just as they had the night she first phased. She didn't understand...why he was doing it. Why he seemed to want to fight for her.
But staring into those sincere ebony eyes – watching as they drifted below hers, settling for a brief moment on her mouth – for a split second she thought maybe he was right. As his lips parted slightly, unspoken words lingering in his mouth, she thought maybe she could let him. Maybe he could help her. He had before...
Maybe he could make it better.
It would be so easy to let it happen.
So easy to lose herself in it. In that moment with him.
So easy...
She wasn't sure who moved first, if it had been him or her, but she suddenly could feel his breath on her mouth. She could feel his lips brush hers. Hesitantly...gently...unsure. His heat consuming her, even though it matched her own.
When she leaned forward just slightly...pushing up against her toes, taking his bottom lip between hers...the pain withdrew. The emptiness faded. She forgot about everything.
And it felt so fucking good.
So good...
A feeling she could get used to...
But it only took a second for runaway thoughts to invade, for the red to recede. For it to be replaced with something else the moment her hands curled possessively around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. The action filled with desperation...with need. For the rest of the day's events to obliterate the irrational haze that overcame her. Sam's words. Emily's face. Crimson on her hands. The pounding emptiness in her chest.
What a similar need had cost her.
Embry was suddenly too close.
Her senses returned faster than she lost them, because if she didn't pull away...if she didn't leave...she would only hurt him.
He would only hurt her too.
So she did, a soft cry escaping her lips as soon as they separated from his. Her fingers curled into his wet shirt as she pushed him away, her gaze falling toward the floor. Refusing to see what he looked like in that moment. Trying to hide the moisture frantically gathering in the corners of her eyes.
"Fuck, Embry, I can't..." she choked out, speaking to the floor beneath her, still hanging onto him. "I can't...you can't. Dammit..."
"Leah..." She could feel his hands on hers, trying to get her to let go.
She couldn't do that either...
But she did. She had to.
So one by one, her fingers unfurled, letting him go. Letting it all go.
"If you want to help me," she was finally able to whisper, "you have to leave...please."
She could feel him retreat; hesitantly, but the step he took shot through her in the form of a vicious shudder as it ripped up her spine. Tearing her eyes from the floor, her hands curled into fists at her sides, finding his gaze just in time to see him nod.
Just in time to see the sad, conflicted clouds in his eyes. Turning them black.
His gaze fell. He took a step back.
"I know...I'm sorry too." Another step. "If you...need me, you know where I'll be."
She nodded forlornly, eyes suddenly unable to find his. She'd almost done it. She'd almost made things worse, but she stopped it just in time. She'd pushed him away before it was too late. Before she'd done something else she would not have been able to undo.
She walked away.
Even if a part deep inside silently begged him to pull her back. To ask him to stay. To plead with him to help her. To help her forget. To fix this.
To fix her.
But she didn't, because she knew it wouldn't work...because he was one of them, and there was nothing he could do.
What was done was done. With Sam, with Emily, with him...and she would have to live with knowing. Knowing she could never let her guard down when one moment – one belonging to a world where she had no control – could take it all way.
His footsteps echoed through the front entryway, the door opening and closing. It was only when she heard the sound of it latch, ricocheting through her like a gunshot, that she knew she was the only one who could fix it...just like Sam had told her to.
She should have left.
She still could...
.
Embry lay awake, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling of his hotel room.
The sun was just starting to rise on the city outside, the muted glow of daylight filtering through the curtains of the terrace doors. He'd opened them earlier, suddenly needing the noise. Needing anything to drown out the thoughts he couldn't seem to shut off.
It hadn't really worked.
He didn't anticipate it, what seeing Leah for longer than a handful of moments would do. What it would bring back. What he would see once he finally had the chance.
Even when she smiled, it was all there on display.
Every single day she'd been away. Every single memory she was trying to hide.
And he could feel it all. How long it had been. How noticeable her absence was now that he was there. Now that he had seen her. How much he missed that confidence. That fire that left a gaping hole in the lives they led...the life he led...without her.
Even though the sparks were harder to see than they were then. Obscured by the demons she allowed to rest there instead.
It felt too familiar, like he'd seen it before...before she left home. The moment in her kitchen, before she'd asked him to leave too. Before he listened, the look in her eyes permanently burned into his memory. A look he hated.
Only now it was worse, and he shouldn't have walked away.
He should have told her she was worth it.
Because he couldn't forget, the person she was trying so hard to. The woman she had been. Where she belonged. How much she was needed.
What she had left behind...
Head falling to the side, Embry released a silent breath, eyes landing on the nightstand.
On his cell phone, sitting just within reach.
.
Leah's forehead pressed hard into her hands, elbows digging into her knees, cradling her head between her fingers.
With an exhausted sigh, she managed to look up after a few long moments. Glancing forlornly around the small, silent bathroom she'd locked herself in, her toes curled into the woven mat beneath her feet.
Her body was satiated. It ached, but not like it should have. It ached in places she didn't recognize...places she didn't know she had inside her. She was used to this happening when everything was over. She was used to the high receding, leaving next to nothing in its wake.
But there she was, hiding in a man's bathroom, because once the drugs faded – once her body had come from its natural high, the one she constantly chased – it left so much more behind than it normally did. When Jason rolled over, his breathing even after only a few moments, Leah laid on her back, naked and trembling, her chest heaving with suppressed breaths.
Remembering.
Coming down.
Crashing. Harder than she ever had before.
And she knew why.
She'd let her guard down. For a split second, sitting across that table from Embry, she'd let him in. Just like she had done years earlier. Except this time, she hadn't asked him to leave. She walked away, but not like she was supposed to. Instead, she'd left him with an open invitation to somehow work his way back into her life.
Just as she had that night in her kitchen back home.
He'd taken it. Six years later, he showed up.
And Leah was losing it. She was remembering everything because of it, and it was eating her alive all over again.
And it was so fucking easy. He made it too easy.
To remember everything.
To make her miss something she left behind, even if she didn't know what that something was.
It was exactly why she couldn't let him stay...because she didn't need it, whatever it was. She didn't want it, to feel the way she was feeling, even if the tight ache in her chest told her something different.
Even if Embry – with his words and his smiles and those exactly the same eyes that seemed to stare straight through her – had wanted her to feel differently too. Even if he'd asked her to without really saying a word.
The man, sleeping soundly on the other side of the bathroom door...what they had done...
That was who she was, and Embry couldn't look at her like that anymore. She would prove it to him.
She would prove it to herself.
Not a muscle in her body moved when her eyes fell on her phone, resting on the edge of the sink a few feet away. It had vibrated a while ago, the buzzing sending an anxious shiver through her body. Bringing one fist to her lips, she eyed it warily for several moments. At first, she wondered who it could be at that hour on a Sunday morning, even though she already had a feeling.
Despite the fact she already knew.
Lips pressed nervously together, her arm lifted from her thigh, finally reaching out. Curling around the phone and pulling it back to her.
It was her own fault...
She barely had to look at the screen to see the name, lit up like a warning sign. Reminding her how badly she screwed up the night before.
Drawing in a ragged breath, she pushed the button, displaying the message across the phone's screen.
Thanks for last night. It really was great to see you.
The words were innocent. Amiable, but a reassurance nonetheless.
Affirming the fact she needed to do something about it.
That she needed to do better job. Better than she'd done the night before.
Better than she'd done six years ago.
Pulling her lip between her teeth, the phone poised between both hands, shaky fingers moved fluidly over the keypad...
Yeah you too. Wednesday...do you have plans?
Her thumb hesitated just before she hit send, eyes closing, heart pounding in her ears because in reality, there would be no going back from it.
Even though she held her breath, she lost it the moment she did.
Knowing history would be buried. Knowing the past would finally be pushed where it belonged.
The phone buzzed again in her hand.
Not that I know of...
Knowing if she did things her way this time, it would finally be over.
You do now.
The plot thickens... *cue ominous music...or something* ;)
So what do you think Leah is up to, hmm? How about what happened the night before she left La Push?
Sorry this chapter is so short (by my standards, at least). The next one should be big and meaty and will hopefully make up for it. :)
Can't wait to hear your thoughts!