Fractured Affections (The Affections Series Book 1)

Chapter Three

Striker

I can't do this! This has been the hardest thing I've had to do in years. I drag my feet up the front porch steps. I feel like someone has filled my shoes with lead. With every step they get heavier. My breath is becoming ragged and my pulse is running rampant in my chest. As I reach the top, I am covered in a light sweat. I stop for a moment and just stare at the perfect little blue house, with white shutters, and beautiful glass front door. Everything looks perfect.

Would I expect anything different? This is Dalton's home. Always the perfect one, so of course he would grow up to still have a perfect life, right? With the perfect wife, who stays home and tends to their three perfect children. How am I supposed to get through this stay?

I should have listened to my first instinct, which screamed to me that this was a terrible idea. I had a hard enough time growing up in his home after my parent's accident. I always loved Dalton like a brother, but we were given two very different lives. Dalton always got what he wanted. He was the perfect child to his parents, while I was the broken troublemaker. I always appreciated my aunt and uncle for giving me a home after I lost my parents, but I was never treated as an equal. The only person who ever understood that was Reagan.

We understood each other's pain and loneliness. That bond between us ended, once I left for the military. I haven't seen her since. I speak to Dalton every now and again. He keeps me updated on how his family is doing. I try not to call very often because I have a hard time dealing with the way things turned out, but at the same time I need to know that everyone is doing all right, especially Reagan.

I shake my head and try to refocus. All I need to do is raise my hand and knock. It's such a simple task, yet I can't bring myself to do it. I swear I can hear her voice through the door. Maybe Dalton is home, which would make this so much easier. He has always had the ability to diffuse bad situations and calm others. The only thing that has kept me sane, since I left eleven years ago, was the fact that Dalton is a good person, and he loves deep. His love for Rea has always been pure.

All right, I can do this; deep breath in, deep breath out. I raise my hand in a tight clenched fist and knock three times. It's only quiet for a moment. I can see slight movement through the glass of the door, and then there she is. She has not changed a bit. Her straight brown hair is shorter than I remember, just barely brushing her shoulders, but her gorgeous blue eyes still hold so much depth. Her five-foot-six, thin frame looks just like I remember, except a little curvier in all the right places. I feel an ache in my chest as I am taken back to eleven years ago. Taken back to when I still had some hope that life was worth living. Taken back to a time when I was able to breathe without pain and sorrow.

∞Eleven Years Eight Months Ago∞

"Come on, Alma, we have walked this trail a million times. You have to know it like the back of your hand by now. Who needs eyesight to travel through these woods?" I say, as I lead Reagan blindfolded to her favorite fallen tree.

"If I'm supposed to know where we're going, then what is the point of the blindfold? It seems a little pointless. And stop calling me Alma, it's a stupid name and makes absolutely no sense," Reagan says, as the corners of her mouth begin to turn up.

I chuckle softly to myself. She is so easily entertained with such simple things. She pretends to hate my nickname for her but secretly loves it. After all these years, she still thinks I'm just giving her an ugly name, when in reality it is the Spanish word for soul. That's what she is to me, my soul. Without her I am nothing. She is my only reprieve from the pain of losing my parents. She is the light in the darkness, and we bonded shortly after she moved here. She can make me smile just by looking my way, but with such an age difference between us, I have always kept things friendly, never letting on to the fact that my heart beats for this girl. I have had to be patient, but my time has finally come. Last week my Alma turned eighteen. That was a day that I have been anticipating, for as long as I can remember.

We only have a few steps left, until we make it to my surprise. Reagan stumbles slightly on a tree root sticking out of the ground, but I quickly reach forward and catch her around her tiny little waist. As I pull her up and into me, her hand lands on my chest. I notice her breathing becomes ragged and shallow.

"We're here," I whisper, then watch her throat as she takes a hard swallow to trying to calm her nerves.

"Where's here?" she replies, while trying to reach up and remove the blindfold, but I catch her wrist in my hand. I spread her tiny fingers out and lace them through mine. While leaning in very close to her ear, I feel a shiver run through her before I speak a single word.

I take in a deep breath through my nose. "Here is where I have wanted to be for so long, but couldn't; here with you in my arms. Here is you and me not just friends, but more." I feel her slight tremors as I continue, "Here is me loving you with all I have and all I am."

I reach up and slowly remove her blindfold without taking my eyes off of hers. Her eyes are softly shut for a moment, and then she slowly lifts them to look directly into mine. Her beautiful blue eyes are filled with unshed tears, while we just stand and stare deep into each other without speaking a word. Time is still.

"Wow, I never...I just always thought. I don't know what I thought," she replies as a crease forms between her eyebrows.

"Reagan, I know I have never let on to my true feelings toward you, but I have always felt this way."

I cup the sides of her face in my hands and angle her head back, so I can finally press my lips to hers. I'm just a hair's breadth away when she retreats and pulls out of my grasp.

"Please tell me I have a shot, Rea. I have felt a connection between us that has always been more than friends. You had to feel it, too."

I'm almost begging in desperation to hear her say she loves me, too. She just turns away from me, never once noticing all the flowers and the picnic I prepared for the both of us. It all feels like such a joke now. I'm starting to crack and break in the silence, which is hanging so heavy between us. I can't lose another person that I love, but if she doesn't love me in the same way I love her, then that is what's going to happen. How could I have been so wrong, all those sideways glances and slight brushes of skin? Damn, there were even moments of being so close when I thought she was going to kiss me.

Finally she turns to me with sadness in her eyes, "What if I mess this up? What if I lose you? I couldn't handle that. You and Dalton are my best friends, and I do love you. You know, in the same way that you're saying you love me."

There it is. I can finally release the breath I've been holding. She does love me. I smile back at her, even though she's still frowning. I take a couple steps to close the distance between us and wrap my arms around her waist. I press her against me and pick her up, so that when I stand we are eye to eye. Her arms instantly wrap tightly around my neck. I lean in and press my lips against her soft pink mouth. They feel even better than I ever imagined. It's not enough, so I part her lips with my tongue, and she lets out a soft moan. Our tongues sweep across one another's, for a few moments, before I pull back and say, "You will never lose me. It's impossible. You have owned me for years, Alma. I could never live without you."

∞Present Day∞

I don't know how long we have been standing here. She hasn't made a move to answer the door. My insides are screaming at me to turn and walk away. This is the moment that I have conditioned myself to avoid all these years. My heart, on the other hand, is begging me to reach out, turn the knob, and push my way through the door to Rea, but I just stay rooted in my spot. I have to keep my cool. I have no idea how she feels about my being here. If I'm lucky, maybe she will send me away.

She finally takes a step forward and my mouth goes dry. This is it. I will finally get to hear her sweet voice, after all these years. Shit she can still turn me into a complete pussy. I have encased my feelings in steel over the years, but she was always the one. She could break through that steel with one simple glance. I hear the door squeak slightly as she slowly opens it, and then I hear a soft whisper.

"Striker."