Landslide (55 page)

I almost questioned her, but before I could even articulate a coherent word, she was straddling me with my dick in her hand and was holding it steady as she slid down and enveloped me. I wasn’t even completely inside her when it felt like a vortex had opened up; the sheer intensity of going from her mouth to straight away being sheathed by her body wholly swallowing every rational thought and word I might’ve had. My grasp on sanity was further rocked when I fought tooth and nail for words to warn her I was about to explode, and she didn’t heed them. She deliberately rode me to rapture, and what’s more, she’d kept me buried to the hilt inside her as she blissed out, feeling and watching me be transported from one sphere of existence to another.
 

She didn’t spend nearly as long letting gravity do its job as she did the first time, and even less after the third, which was hardly more than thirty minutes later. I’d caved and gone to smoke while I was waiting for her and once she was done and joined me upstairs—of course wanting a cigarette of her own—I don’t know what is was that had me do it, but without even telling her no, I simply pinned her up against the wall like she wanted me to in the first place. It was ludicrously hot. And, I was a lot more steady on my feet than I thought I would be…

My head rolls to the side and I stare at the vacancy beside me, heaving a deep sigh. “One of these days,” I mutter aloud to myself, “I’d really like to know what it’s like to wake up in the morning with her still next to me.”
 

The annoying numbers flashing red on my alarm clock reminds me that I have no idea what time it is. It could be noon for all I know. I scan the tops of both nightstands for my phone and another memory plays back. It’s not a particularly impressive or important one, although in my mind’s eye it shows me the moment Erica set my phone on the kitchen counter last night after taking pictures of me. Yawning, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stretch. It feels like morning. The most phenomenal morning of my existence thus far. Even without Erica in my bed right this minute to affirm the truth of that. And it’s a Monday…go figure.

The few pressing morning-type tasks are accomplished with speed and once clothed in a freshly laundered pair of boxers, I head upstairs, the smell of coffee becoming more and more prevalent with each step. Brief surprise is mine when I see the battery operated cat-clock on the wall at the top of the stairs to find that it’s hardly past seven. My chest expands happily as my heart is exponentially filled with what I can only describe as triumphant gratification seeing Erica standing in my kitchen, her hands both wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee as she quietly stares out the window.

Moving to stand behind her, my arms slip around her waist and I go to place a soft, good morning kiss on the side of her neck, only then noting how she’s fully dressed—boots and all— when the scarf cozied around her neck forces me to settle for kissing the corner of her jaw instead.

“You’re up early…”

“Skull Eater was whining to be let out.” Her curt response includes a nod and straightening her back some, making her seem rigid and tense.

I search what I can see of her expression from the side. Pensive unease is the only thing I find. My arms fall away and I take a small step back, feeling as though I should be apologizing for something I haven’t even done yet. It’s either that or I managed to somehow commit an offense between now and when Erica and I both drifted off to sleep; happy, content, and snuggled up in each other’s arms. For a moment I wonder if she’s irritated and stressing herself out about impulsively foregoing condoms like we did last night. That possibility in turn irritates me. It then occurs to me that her mood might not have anything to do with me. There are all kinds of things that could be negatively affecting her this morning, like something to do with her grandma, Greg, her job…anything really.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I gently tug at her arm so she’ll turn to face me. She doesn’t. “Why are you all dressed? Did something happen? Talk to me.”

Her heads drops forward an inch or two, like she might now be staring into the coffee mug still in her hands instead of through the window. Then she gestures to a piece of paper on the counter. “I wrote you a letter.”
 

No.

This isn’t happening.
 

“Why don’t you just tell me what it says.”

She lifts her head again, sets the mug down, and wistfully speaks to the world outside instead of directly to me. “Waking up this morning was like opening my eyes only to realize I was still dreaming.” A small, appreciative smile spreads across my face, bringing with it hope that I’ve seriously misinterpreted this whole thing. “I threw on my underwear and your shirt from last night and grabbed the dog leash so I could take Skull Eater out front really quick. It was freezing but it was beautiful out and decided I wanted to take a walk. So, I came back inside and got dressed. I didn’t wanna disappear on you though and have you worry, so I went rummaging through your desk for something to leave you a note on. I wrote that letter instead. And since then, I’ve been standing here, crying until I was out of tears and energy to create more, and wishing I could make myself and all my feelings disappear for real and forever.”

It’s pure instinct to turn her to me…to take her by the arms and try pulling her to me; to do everything I’m capable of to comfort her and wash away the morose morbidity she seems to be unexplainably engulfed in. “Erica, sweetheart,
why
?”

She stiffens. “Don’t touch me. It feels too good and that makes me nauseous.”

Her callous delivery has me retaliating without thinking. “Funny. I don’t remember you puking or even gagging
once
last night.”

“That’s because I believed you. I
trusted
you.”

I can feel my forehead crinkle in confusion. “I’m gonna need you to be a little more direct and give me some specifics here, sugar, because I don’t have the foggiest fuckin’ clue what I’ve said, done, or didn’t do to make you feel like you can’t.”

She nods and lifting her pained, exhausted eyes to mine, she whispers, “Okay. How’s this? You lied to me. That wasn’t your first time.”

“Wh—I didn’t lie about that. Why would you think I—”

“Who’s Lola?”

Everything in me comes to a standstill, except all color draining from my face as my blood catches a deathly chill, at once halting any further progress in my frozen veins and arteries. I can’t even inhale my shock with the way my lungs have suddenly collapsed. My heart is the last thing to quit functioning, finding itself lodged in my throat where I do everything I can to not choke on it.

“I feel like such a fool… You played me and I
let
you,” she turns and picks something off the counter and hands it to me. I wanted to ask her who had told her, but the culprit is in my hands. A brand new pack of address labels bearing the name Lola Hastings. “I can’t even accuse you of lying about her because I only asked if you had a girlfriend…I never even
thought
to ask if you were married.”

I blink. “Erica…it’s not—well, it’s not what you think.”

“Don’t you
dare
be so presumptuous as to tell me what I think when
I
don’t even know,” she snaps, her eyes spitting fire.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But, I didn’t play you.”

“No? You don’t have a sister, your mom’s name is Candi, and your dad certainly never gave her his name, and he hasn’t married his girlfriend either, so explain why the name of a woman who shares
your
last name is on these labels with the address to
this
house. Tell me who Lola is. Right now.”
 

“Lola is…” I squeeze my eyes shut on a strangled sigh and rub my face. “Complicated.”

This is not how I ever imagined this conversation. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking it would be like, but I was never ignorant enough to think it would be easy. And now that I’m finally having it, I’m scrambling around in my head chasing after words and a way to explain Lola to Erica; however the way is slippery and words keep eluding me.

“
Complicated
? She’s complicated. What the hell does that even mean, Cole?! Tell me something that makes sense! And I’m begging you, tell me something that I can live with…something that doesn’t make me want to die inside. Tell me anything that doesn’t make me regret ever knowing you, because I swear to you, I will walk out that door and you will never see or hear from me again if you can’t. Are you widowed? Or divorced?”

“N—no.”

Her face falls, her chin quivering with the singular hopeful word, “Separated?”

Blistering hot tears begin filling my eyes, yet I let them burn my cheeks as they fall unimpeded, at the same time forcing myself to maintain eye contact. “No.”

A sob bursts from Erica’s mouth, preventing me from continuing to break her heart further. “Do you—do you love her?”

I blink through the onslaught of my own tears and nod. “More than I ever thought possible,” I admit and take a deep breath, trying to find the courage and strength to say what I’ve put off for so long, “She’s not my wife, though, Erica. She’s my daughter.”

She blinks, but that’s all. It’s almost as if she didn’t hear me, although I’m afraid to say another word or even move before she does.

“You have a daughter? A
daughter
?! And you’re just telling me now?!” I shouldn’t have waited for her to make the first move, because that move is her angrily slapping me across the face so hard that I’m left with a stinging cheek and the taste of salted metal in my mouth.
Fuck
, she hits hard when she’s pissed off. “That’s information you should’ve
led
with, Cole!!”

I rub my jaw and run my tongue gingerly over the small cut on the inside where the driving force of her hand slammed my teeth into the skin inside my cheek. “I wanted to, Erica, but…I couldn’t. Not until I knew how you felt about…me.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, Co—”
 

“No, it’s not. You need to see this from my side. I love you, I always have. There’s never been a doubt in my mind about that. But up until last night, I honestly didn’t know how you felt about me, and Lola…well, she’s a big part of why I’m so careful about who I date and how I do it, which is either not at all or it’s kept secret from her,” I sigh when all Erica does is shake her head, like she doesn’t get it, “Look, it’s one thing to go out casually and have both parties know that’s all it is, but she’s a kid. She doesn’t really understand what that means. And I’m not gonna bring women around and have her get attached to them when I know there’s no future in the relationship. That’s not fair to her.”

“Okay, I can see where that makes sense, bu—wait a minute. You
still
lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you. I just didn’t tell you about her. I tried last night, but you didn’t want to ta—”

“You said you were a virgin, Cole.”

“I told you. I
was
. Why would I lie about…” The proverbial ton of bricks crushes me.

“Exactly. You have to have sex with someone first in order to have a child.”

Are you ready? Take a deep breath…it’s time for the kill shot.

I drop my eyes and talk to the floor when I whisper, “Not always.”

“Uh, yes, always.”

I bring my gaze back to hers and struggle to breathe evenly, fear skittering over every nerve-ending of my body. “Not when the child isn’t yours biologically.”

“Y—you adopted her?”

“No…not exactly.”
 

“Cole, please. I can’t do the cryptic thing right now.”

“I’m listed as Lola’s father on her birth certificate, Erica. Because that’s what her real father told her mother his name was. And she never heard from him again. She tried contacting him to tell him she was pregnant and tracked him down on Facebook. If you remember, though, I hardly ever got on Facebook so I didn’t see any of her messages until I was enlisted. I read the first one and thought she was nuts because I knew there was no way on Earth I’d fathered a kid so I ignored the rest of the messages she’d sent. I got deployed right after that and life got crazy. Then the Department of Child Services found me about four years ago when I was stationed in Turkey. They told me that Lola’s mother had died and I was solely responsible for a two and a half-year-old little girl.”

I look deeply into Erica’s confused eyes, silently pleading from the depths of my soul for her to do the math so that I don’t have to say it out loud.
 

“She’s seven?” she asks, tears of reluctant understanding welling up in her eyes.

“Next month.”

She nods and takes a shaky breath, furiously blinking back her heartbreak. “And her mom thought her messages were going to the right person because he was in your profile picture, wasn’t he?”

My throat thick with fresh hurt, I nod. “Yeah, beautiful, he was.”

“Did you know?”

“I just told you…I didn’t find out about her un—”

“I mean did you know he was cheating on me?”

I sniffle and wipe my eyes, shaking my head. “Not until he was gone.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“What was I gonna say, Erica? Hey, I just found out Holden was a cheating scumbag, but don’t let it get you down because I’m more in love with you than he ever could’ve been? Think of how that would’ve played out.”

“That was why you hated him. You found out that day… The day before I left.”

“Mmhm.”

“How?”

“The son of bitch wrote it in a journal he was keeping on his computer. That was how I understood without asking why the DCS came looking for me. He admitted to basically stealing my identity when he went to the river that last spring.”

I will never forget reading that. He said it was easy. He was jealous of me and how easy I evidently made it look to flirt and get girls to throw themselves at me. He coveted the attention. So, he wore my persona as a disguise to see if he could get the same results. And when he got them, he justified cheating on Erica by twisting the rationale I had used on him when he told me he was going to propose to her; that once he was married, he’d never be able to have sex with anyone else so why not do it before he was locked in for good. And of course, what Erica didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. So while I was housesitting for Erica and her grandma while they took some of Erica’s grandfather’s ashes to his family back in Iowa, Holden straight-up fucked a minor who was a virgin, using my name to do it. Then he died and left me to pay for his sins.