Bad Son Rising (22 page)

Read Bad Son Rising Online

Authors: Julie A. Richman

BOOK: Bad Son Rising
12.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Looking away as she absorbed his words, they both knew he was dead on. Knowing she’d be haunted by everything, that she’d see him everywhere, memories that they’d made together would be hiding behind every tree, waiting to meet her on every path, there would be nowhere to turn that wasn’t steeped in what she thought was love, until he told her it was merely a ruse.

Zac felt the hand on his shoulder and stiffened.

“I think you’re done,” his voice was firm.

“No. We are nowhere near done.” Zac’s eyes never left Lily’s.

“It’s OK, Colby,” Lily reassured him and a stunned Colby moved away.

They danced in silence. Zac’s strong arms held her close, tightening with each step they took, her cheek pressed firmly against his chest, resurrecting memories that tore at his heart as the loss of her, of them, now felt more acute than it had since the day she left Africa.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. It killed me to do that to you. Please believe me, Lils,” he was not embarrassed at his pleading tone. If he needed to get on his knees for her to believe him…

Looking up and searching his eyes for answers, “I don’t know what to believe, Zac. You broke my heart. I had never told anyone that I loved them. And then you told me it was all a game.” She didn’t try to hide the hurt.

His smile came quick, but the words were stuck behind the lump in his throat.

“This isn’t amusing,” she was angry.

“I know that,” his voice was rough with emotion. “It’s just that,” he paused, feeling his eyes mist, “I’ve never told anyone else that I loved them, either.”

Silently, they stared into one another’s eyes, lonesome days and sleepless nights, futile attempts at healing and moving on, all spoken in the wordless communication.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

And a single tear dropped to her cheek as the song ended.

Colby appeared, immediately at her side, his need to mark his territory overt.

Separating, Zac reached forward and brushed her tear away with his thumb. “It’s good to see you, Lils.”

Bending down, he softly kissed her cheek. Nodding at Colby, he turned, heading back to the van der Heyden’s table.

Liz was standing, watching him as he approached. He could tell by the look on her face that she was thinking, “What the fuck is going on?”

“Can we get out of here?” His agitation was evident and he knew fresh air would be the immediate answer to the nausea that was quickly rising.

“Zac?”

Nodding, he knew the question she was asking. “Yes, that’s her.”

“Holy shit,” Liz hissed, as she tried to keep up with him.

“Who’s the guy? Do you know him?” Zac’s jaw muscle twitched, his lips barely moving as he spoke.

“Colby Phillips. Goes to Yale. Went to Avon Old Farms for prep school. I think he’s pre-med.”

Zac nodded and kept walking at a pace that made it impossible for Liz to keep up. He was on a mission. A mission to get the hell out of there, and the corridor through the main building was interminably long, stretching before him like a never ending nightmare. This journey toward the building’s exit and the parking lot felt like a long walk he’d been on only once before.

“Zac.”

Stopping dead in his tracks at the sound of Liliana’s voice, the burning in his chest intensified. Slowly he turned to see her coming down the long corridor toward him. The look on her face was one to which he was no stranger. Liliana Castillo was seething mad.

Toe to toe, her jaw thrust out defiantly, “If it was a lie, if what you told me in the hospital was just a lie, why didn’t you come find me when you got home? Why?” she demanded, her voice rising a full octave by the time she’d completed her question.

He wanted to reach out, to take her in his arms. The pain in her eyes tightened the knots resident in his heart. He could see her heart through her eyes, wounded and on display. The tattered shreds he’d cut in Africa were still bleeding. Time had not cauterized them. Distance had not built the necessary scar tissue to heal.

“Because you deserve better.”

The anger in her eyes dissipated for just a moment, replaced by an emotion he could not decipher as he searched them, and then it was gone. Anger had once again stolen the show.

“That’s not your decision to make.”

The sting of her hand on his cheek was unexpected, the sound of the slap echoing off the corridor walls. As he went to cover the sting, he could feel the heat. Their heat. And the pain of the slap felt comforting compared to the pain in his heart.

“Lils…” he began.

But she had already turned on her heel and was halfway down the hall.

For the third time in his life, he wanted to go after her, but as on previous occasions, he did not.

Softly, he repeated the words that he had said to her, to a now empty hallway. “You deserve better.”

Chapter Twenty-One
Two Days Later
Starbucks
Spring Street
SoHo, NYC

She turned back to give him a provocative smile.

“Shhhh,” he put his finger to his lips to indicate she needed to be quiet and hit her with a panty-wetting smile, knowing her panties were already wet and sticky.

Smoothing down her soccer mom hair, she exited the bathroom and he locked the door behind her, continuing to zip his jeans and tucking in the tail of his button down shirt. As he grabbed his green smock and negotiated it over his head, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Perfecting his hair with just a slash of his hand through the thick locks, he noticed his pale blue eyes. Dead, was his first thought. I have dead eyes.

Leaving the bathroom, he took his place behind the counter with his fellow barista coworkers. Glancing over at the table where the soccer mom had been sitting, he was relieved to see two middle-aged gay men engrossed in a serious conversation.

Soccer mom had been his second encounter of the day. The morning’s conquest was a Biomedical Engineering Prof up at school. He passed her office in CCNY’s Grove School of Engineering three days a week. Her office door was always open and she regularly called out a greeting of “good morning” to him, which he invariably returned with a smile, wave and “morning,” without ever breaking his stride.

This morning he stopped.

“How are you today?” Zac inquired.

“Very well.” She appeared both surprised and pleased to see the tall, handsome young man leaning casually against her doorframe. “You’re a civil engineering student, aren’t you?”

Zac nodded, yes.

“Come in. Have a seat. Close the door behind you so it’s not so noisy,” she instructed.

Oh yeah,
thought Zac. He knew exactly where this was going and he needed it. This would prove it. This would prove he was right. He wasn’t good enough for her. He was right not to go after her.

“So, it is doubtful I will ever see you in one of my classes,” the professor stated, making the obvious very clear, but wanting to reaffirm.

“I can guarantee you that, Professor. It’s my last semester, you will never be grading one of my projects.”

From there things escalated quickly as Zac first fucked her on her neat little desk, making her get on all fours so that he could slam deep into her dripping pussy without having to look at her face. He finished her against the wall, again having her face away from him, the thought of looking into her lustful eyes made him sick. She had been so predictable.

And so had he. And he hated himself for it.

Instead of getting on the subway when he left Steinman Hall, he walked down St. Nicholas Avenue from 140th Street to the top of Central Park on 111th Street. Once he hit the park, he called Liz and continued to walk south.

“Did you call her?” Liz didn’t bother to greet him with a hello.

“No.”

“Why not?” she had that annoyed tone.

“Because she should be with Colby. He’ll be good for her. He’ll give her a good life.”

“That’s not your place to decide.”

“Are you taking lessons from her?” he laughed.

“She’s right, you know.”

“Shut up.” He was approaching the North Meadow, which meant the Jackie Kennedy Onassis Reservoir was not far.

“Maybe Colby beats her. Or treats her like shit. You don’t know if he’s better for her.” Liz was not going to back down.

“More likely she beats Colby. Liliana Castillo is one tough chick. If you’re ever putting together a Pussy Posse, you want her on your side.”

Liz laughed, “Call her, Zac. I’m serious. She came after you that night because she is not ready to let go. And you didn’t follow her, you douche monkey. She wanted you to follow her.”

Passing nannies with strollers who were all eying him, “Yeah, well you can’t always get what you want.”

“Speaking of what I want,” Liz changed the subject, “Are you coming to my graduation?”

Zac laughed, “If they let me back on campus. Are you coming to mine?”

“Hell yes, miss the graduation of a guy who gets kicked out of school, goes to Africa, gets shot, comes back and does two years in one, graduates on time and gets into grad school. Hell, I wouldn’t miss that.”

“Well, you got into grad school, too,” Zac pointed out.

“Yeah, but I actually went to college for four straight years and took as few courses as they would allow me to — I did it right.”

“Show off,” they both laughed.

“Promise me you’ll think about calling her. She’s graduating, too. Call her to congratulate her.”

“Wow, she lost a whole year that she couldn’t make up,” he was surprised at how much he liked hearing news about Lily, news Liz had clearly gotten through connections. He wanted to ask Liz if she had learned anything more than that through her country club “channel”, but he didn’t dare ask.

The less he knew, the better. For everyone involved.

“Think about calling her, Zac.” Liz was a well-bred pit bull.

“I’ll think about it,” he lied.

There was no thinking about it.

For the last two nights, since he had seen her, he was plagued with disconcerting dreams of going after her down the corridor at Wee Burn.

“Lils. Stop. Please let me explain,” he had begged.

“There’s nothing to explain, Zac.” Her face was hard.

“Yes, there is. I did it because I love you. I love you, Lils. You are the only one I have ever loved. It killed me to hurt you the way I did.” he poured his heart out, feeling liberated that he had finally confessed to her.

“Well that’s really too bad for you because I don’t love you, Zac. You know you’re not good enough for me. Everybody knows that.”

And with a searing pain in his heart, he stood motionless as he watched her walk away.

Today, instead of calling Lily and facing her rejection, he fucked two women. One right in her office, the other in a bathroom where he worked. These women wanted him — whether he was good enough for them or not, it didn’t matter — they wanted him, and if he had to fuck another seventy women in the next three weeks to get Liliana Castillo to detach herself from his psyche, so be it. He would fuck her right out of his memory and replace her with empty conquest after empty conquest.

Chapter Twenty-Two
The Following Weekend
The Moore’s SoHo Loft
New York City

Stepping into the old-fashioned freight elevator, Zac carried Nathaniel in his right arm, and let go of Portia’s hand as the elevator door closed.

With her face sticky from strawberry ice cream and a sugar high coursing through her veins, Portia jumped up and down, trying to make the old-fashioned freight elevator car shake, laughing hysterically at her attempts.

Struggling out of Zac’s arms, a chocolate ice cream coated Nathaniel took his place next to her, jumping with his big sister and laughing.

The elevator door opened directly into their loft and the two went running in.

“Don’t touch anything,” Zac screamed from the elevator.

“Lily,” Zac heard Portia scream, stopping him dead in his tracks just inside the elevator door.

Hoping he’d heard her wrong. Hoping he’d heard her right. He stepped into the loft and said a silent prayer that this was not a dream, not another one of his nightmares, this time spilling over into his awakened state.
She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to see me,
he quickly told himself, but the thought was immediately followed up with,
this is Lily, she could just be here to rip me a much deserved new asshole
.

“Do not touch her,” Mia stopped a racing Portia who was making a beeline to greet their guest. “Both of you, do not touch anything until your hands are wiped.” Mia was on the two little ones with wet wipes in a nanosecond. Turning to Zac, “Did they actually eat any of the ice cream?”

Smiling, he shrugged, “Well, they each had two scoops. One went in and one went on.” Turning to their guest, “Hello Liliana,” he tried so hard to keep his voice cool, but with his heart racing a million miles an hour, he could hear the tightness in his tone.

“Zac,” she acknowledged him, her eyes trained intently upon his face.

“OK, you two, clearly your big brother cannot be trusted to take you out for ice cream.” Mia gave Zac a faux annoyed look, “Let’s get into the bathroom, we’re going to get the two of you into the tub.”

Walking back to the couch, she gave Lily a hug, “Great seeing you, Lil.” Turning to Zac, “Zac, maybe Lily would like something to drink?” Mia hit him with her devil smile, indicating she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Yes, I’d love some water please,” and all of the sudden her demeanor became almost shy, demure, so unlike the powerhouse that was Liliana Castillo.

Zac returned with two waters. He knew his suddenly dry mouth was only one of the physical effects she was having on him.

Sitting down next to her on the pale colored couch, he moved a light blue throw pillow out of the way, so that there was nothing between them. He looked into her golden brown eyes for a long moment, his aching heart pounding, “Lils,” he began, but in typical Liliana Castillo fashion, she cut him off.

“You told me you loved me the other night, but then you didn’t come after me. That doesn’t make sense, Zac.” Serious, logical Lily searched his eyes for answers.

“You’re with Colby. I’m no good for you.”

Other books

The Merry Pranked by Rusk, Day
Thief by Greg Curtis
Merger (Triple Threat Book 3) by Kit Tunstall, R.E. Saxton
Old Tin Sorrows by Glen Cook
Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle) by Danielle Martin Williams
Dead People by Edie Ramer
Dom Wars Round Two by Lucian Bane
No Other Gods by Koetsier, John
Silent Dances by A. C. Crispin, Kathleen O'Malley