Synister: The Push Series - Book 1 (19 page)

I watched as she turned away from me. I couldn’t see the look on her face, but I could see her shoulders were pressed into her neck and her back was thrashing about. I knew she was crying, and it broke my heart to know that she needed space when all I wanted to do was swallow her up in my arms and protect her. Pulling in a deep breath, I held back the tears and the need to shout at her. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I needed to find a way to make her see what I saw. As my fists balled at my sides, I wished on everything that I had the courage to tell her what I had never told anyone in my life. I opened my mouth four times before I found the words.

“Brooklyn, don't push me away because you’re scared. Hell, I’m scared out of my mind. I have no clue what the fuck I’m doing. I want you to see yourself the way I see you. I want you to look in the mirror and see how fucking awesome you are. I will make you believe in yourself, to see past the pain and the scars and see the person you are underneath the mask. I know my baby girl is in there, and I am not going anywhere until I find her.” As I exhaled the longest breath, she turned and looked at me with hope. I let everything go. “You know I have never talked about what happened to me as a kid. I mean, you know that Vince beat us, and I was the only person to protect Scottie, but I’ve never talked about what he did to me because I was
special.

“
There was a time when I believed him, believed that he did things with me and no one else because I was his favorite, because he cared about me. I was fifteen when the beatings stopped. I thought we were free—that I was free. I later came to realize that I was getting too strong and that he could no longer overpower me. By this time, my mother was whoring herself out to whomever would take her, and Scottie was never out of my sight. The calm lasted for three months. Long enough for me to let my guard down. What I hadn't realized was what came next made the beatings look like a trip to the candy store.

“Scottie and I had gotten home from school, and I was in the basement playing my drums and beating those sticks to work out my aggression. I must have pounded away at that drum kit for hours because I was a sweaty mess. I shouted to Scottie that I was headed to take a shower, and that he needed to keep his door locked until I was out. Vince hadn't gotten home yet. I didn’t need him taking Scottie or me by surprise.

“Stepping under the shower, I let the cold water beat off my skin. I was covered in soap and shampoo, and as I leaned my head back under the water, I heard the door open and then lock. When I opened my eyes, Vince was standing on the other side of the glass shower door fully dressed. I told him to get the fuck out,
but he just stood there. He kept telling me about how he was going to make me a man. How beautiful I was. I didn't want to do it, but he promised if I gave him what he wanted, he would never touch Scottie again. So I did, Brooklyn. I gave him every part of me. I can still feel his rough skin on mine. The way his body felt when he collapsed on me in exhaustion.

“There were nights that I prayed I would die, but I knew if I wasn't there, he would turn to Scottie and I wouldn’t have that. So I complied. I gave myself to him, and he kept his word. Scottie was safe. I had protected him, and now I can do the same for you. I’m strong. I love you, and you love all of me. You are my world, baby girl. You are the only reason I have life to keep going. Please, please don't push me away.” I took a step toward her, and she dropped her arms. I couldn’t wait another minute. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, to kiss her, and to pull her close, fusing our bodies together. But that was not something she was ready for, so I settled for reaching out my hand. Taking her hand in mine, I continued to explain why she was worth saving. I had squandered so many chances with her. I knew I did not deserve one more, but I was prepared to fight for it. “We’re going to make mistakes. I’m going to say the wrong shit, a lot. You are going to want to kick my ass, and I’ll deserve it. Brooklyn, please don't stop yourself from living… Don’t let him win.” The words were as much for me as they were for her. The irony was not lost on me. We both were fighting a ghost, an abuser who was ingrained in our past. Now it was up to us to determine our future.

As she leaned over and grabbed her bag off the floor, she squeezed my hand and forged our lives together. Looking up at me from her tear-stained eyes, she said, “I love you. Let’s go home.” And with those words, I knew I had won her heart.

Synister
– Healing, Sweat and Acid Rain

Reaching for the door, I pulled it open and extended my hand to Brooklyn. “Here, baby girl, let me help you.” I drew her body to mine and proceeded to help her into the house. She insisted she was fine, but she knew how much it meant to me to
be there
for her. So, she humored me.

Even though the sun was still blazing through the house, I was ready to call it a day. Brooklyn and I were spent-physically and emotionally. The day consisted of two doctors’ appointments, one for me and the other for B. My doctor, a self indulgent asshole who’d spent one too many hours perfecting his golf swing, confirmed…news flash…I was losing my hearing.
Really
. At this point I was beginning to wonder what the hell I was paying him for.

Brooklyn’s appointment was her last in a string of follow ups. She was given the all clear, and could resume her life the way she once had. I almost throat punched the doctor when she said ‘
everything is good as new’
. Those words made Brooklyn cringe and when she saw me balling up my fist at my side she simply shook her head. That one motion stopped me from losing my shit, but damn, I really wanted to sock the bitch for making everything my girl had been through seem so casual. Like
here you go…here’s a band aid and a lollipop for your boo boo, sweetie
. What a twat.

Once inside, I felt Brooklyn’s fingers escape mine.

“I am going to get a shower. After I’m done, what do you say to crashing in bed, eating popcorn, and binge watching Netflix ‘til we pass out?” she asked with a smile and wink.

“Sounds like a brilliant plan, Ms. Reigns. Your bed and accommodations will be waiting for you. We could watch the last season of Sons of Anarchy Deal?”

“Deal. You know I love me some Jax Teller ass.” She couldn’t hide the evil smirk that immediately washed over her face.

Fuck it was good to see her smile.

“I am prepared, Ms. Reigns, to show you some Synister Smith ass, if you like. We could compare. I’ve been told I have quite the luscious boo-tah.” I gave myself a swift smack on the ass, and wiggled it for show. This brought about a fit of laughter between the both of us. If seeing her smile was good, hearing her laugh was kick ass. With tears streaming down her face from laughter, Brooklyn kissed me on the cheek and proceeded up the stairs. I watched as she disappeared, mesmerized by her ass. When I could no longer see her, I reached for my phone and shot a quick text to Scottie.

Synister: We are home. Everything’s good…hearing is fading like a virgin’s panties on prom night tho…talk soon.

Making my way to the kitchen I pulled out two bowls, two bags of popcorn, and two beers. Dropping bag number one in the microwave and pressing the popcorn button, I watched as the table rotated and the timer ticked down. I got lost in the simplicity of making popcorn. The way a bag of hard kernels, that could chip a tooth in a second, when applied with the right amount of heat, rotation, and time transformed into tiny morsels of deliciousness seemed almost magical. The utter domesticated, normalcy of the task spoke to me. Shaking my head from side to side, I realized that I was way too tired if I was making life analogies over fucking popcorn.

Synister get a goddamn grip, dude. You need a shot of bourbon and adrenaline.

If I wasn’t careful I would be wearing an apron and singing pop songs while I cleaned toilets. Rubbing my hand over my forearm I noticed the tattoo on my lower arm that I got just for Brooklyn. The word Meteor staring back at me. Today marked the sixth week since she left the hospital and two weeks since we started sleeping in the same bed. We tried cohabitating when she got home but the nightmares were so bad she slept better without me. It fucking killed me to lay down the hall and listen to her scream. What made it worse was when she cried out for me and I couldn’t save her. Every mother fucking night my heart broke the same as it did when I walked into the hospital room for the first time.

Brooklyn never knew that I spent every night asleep on the cold marble floor outside her door in a blanket and no pillow that first month. She would have cut off my balls for being so childish, but I knew in her heart she would understand my need to protect her. I had failed once. I was not, over my dead body, allowing it to happen again. So every night I waited until I thought she was asleep and I crept down the hall like a burglar and protected her the only way I knew how.

With the final ding I opened the steaming hot bags of popcorn, and dumped them into their respective bowls. Popcorn and beer in hand, I flicked off the light and proceeded upstairs to spend the next god knows how many hours with nothing separating me and my girl. As I bounded the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, I heard the shower water coming from down the hall. Brooklyn was tense today and I knew that shower was going to be a good twenty minutes. She was healing well on the outside, but what scared me where the scars I could not see. The ones that she would hide for fear of the memory. Those fuckers would haunt us no matter how hard we fought them. We were a team and I was confident we could tackle anything.

Together.

Placing the bowls and beer on the nightstand I proceeded, in an overly dramatic way, to throw my sorry ass on the bed. I damn near smacked my head on the corner of the four poster bed. The dark walnut monstrosity was centered in the master bedroom with draped curtains and a white duvet cover. As my body sank into the pillow top mattress, I reached over and pulled Brooklyn’s pillow to my nose. I inhaled and was immediately overwhelmed by her scent. It was like she was everywhere in the room, but nowhere at all. Relaxed, I kicked off my shoes. Thunk one followed by thunk two, signaled my docs where somewhere on the floor. The socks were the next to go. Pulling myself up on the bed, I opened the draw on the nightstand and secured the tv remote. With a couple clicks I had SoA queued up. All I needed was my girl.

I knew if I started even one episode without her she would have my ass. So, out of total and utter boredom I started scrolling through my phone. After five seconds on social media I wanted to scrub my eyes out with bleach. People really needed to get a life. Jesus. Dropping my phone to the side, I rested my head back on the pillows. I must have drifted off because when I came to I thought I was dreaming. The softest lips brushed along my chest and abdomen. My eyes opened to the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Brooklyn was straddling my legs, her hair was in the ponytail high, and she was wearing a barely legal white, v-neck t-shirt and lavender boy shorts.

“Brooklyn.” My words were a ghost on my lips. I watched as her fingers traced the lines on my stomach. The way they twisted and curled over the ink, new and old.

“Shhh, Synister. Trust me, I know what I want.” With those words her eyes conveyed confidence. So why was I scared as hell? I was haunted by all the nameless women in a history so torrid and full of pain. Brooklyn’s words healed and saved me. For the first time I was worth it.

Resting my head back on the pillows, I watched through hopeful and guarded eyes. These last two weeks were a series of cold showers and hand jobs to keep my heart and dick from exploding. She was getting braver and braver every night. Inching closer to me. Letting me hold her while she slept. When she woke up breathless and scared, she only climbed deeper into my embrace and my heart.

As her kisses intensified so did the ache to take her, to claim her as mine. My rational side knew I could not. Should not. That would only set us back. So I grabbed a fist full of sheets and gritted my teeth. When I felt her finger toying with my waistband, out of pure instinct and adrenaline, my body bucked upward. It was a carnal need to get closer. To consume her the way she was consuming me. At that moment her hands retreated. I could see she was pushing back the demons. She was trying to be strong but her eyes showed how shattered she was.

Damn it. I fucked up.

“I’m sorry, B. Shit. I am sorry. Please. Don’t go.” There was no apology in the world big enough to express what I felt.

She cupped my face in her hands and placed a kiss on my lips. It was the kiss of an angel and the devil. It delivered a need and a promise. She scooted to the end of the bed, pulled her t-shirt over her head, and tossed it to the floor. At the sight of her bare breasts and perfect skin, I was certain my dick would unzip my fly itself. She reclined back and pulled her knees to her chest. Spreading her legs I watched as her hand dipped beneath the lavender lace. As her legs fell apart exposing a sensual and delicious mixture of the girl I loved and the woman making me want her more than I knew was humanly possible. As she began toying with her nipples and writhing in intense pleasure, my heart began to beat faster. It was like a locomotive tearing down the tracks, threatening to explode from chest. There was nothing sweeter than watching Brooklyn get off while saying my name. If this was the first step toward claiming her, I was all in. As her fingers twisted and pulled at her now red and swollen breast I wanted to be near her. I couldn’t resist the need to touch her, not even for another second. Pushing myself closer to her she did not startle, nor did she stop. I knew if my hands touched her skin I would have zero chance in hell in controlling them. So I decided my lips would have to do. I started by leaving whisper light kisses at her ankles and slowly moving my lips up her legs. My eyes locked on her every move, I watched as her right hand stopped and reached out for me.