Beautiful Misery |1

15. SHADOW OF MISERY

Heat shot through my veins— an exclusive reaction to his closeness— as he lowered his mouth to my ear. Warm lashes of his breath burned at my skin, making me brutally aware of the cool night air around us. "Stop running." He commanded. His husky whisper intensified that familiar, burning desire within me. I leaned towards him, wanting to be closer, needing the rapture of his next touch.

Disturbed by the gentle dry breeze, long strands of hair tickled the side of my face. Turning my face to the side, I reached a hand up to tame the strands. Having sensed my discomfort, Rayne obliged before I had a chance. Closing my eyes I absorbed the sensation of his callous fingers against my soft skin. Perplexed, I wondered how he could be both rough and tentative in the  same moment.  Collecting each raven strand, he pushed the lot behind my ear— cupping the side of my face fluently.

His heated palm carved lower, cupping the base of my throat— the pad of his thumb settled over my carotid artery, caressing the skin there erotically. My mind suddenly flooded with a pleasurable sensation, a chemical release of dopamine. Every junkies dream come true. For a moment I glimpsed total euphoria. For a moment I forgot.

Like a wave crashing against a cliff's jagged side, the memories washed over my high— clarity ripping through me like the rough, protruding points did the waves. Looking up into his dark gaze I emptied my lungs in a drawn out breath— the resolution in his emerald eyes striking me. Only then did I realise that if the waves were the memories of my past then he was the cliff, impervious to its onslaught, indestructible and resolute in defending its territory. Somehow I knew Rayne would never back down. The more I fought him, the more determine he became. Dropping my forehead against his broad chest, I fisted my hand against his abdomen. Submitting to his perseverance, I admitted something I'd never allowed myself to believe. "I don't know how." My whispered words hung heavily in the air between us.

My whole life I'd been running from one thing or another— my heroin addict mother, my insecurities, my need for affection and love, Mr Hale; the truth of what had happened to me. At some point I'd forgotten how to stop. "Let me in." Banding his arms around me, he pulled me against the warmth of his body. "Tell me what happened to you, Gia." It was no longer a command, but an opening, a chance to confide in him— a chance to stop running.

Still captive in his arms, I pulled back enough to look up at him. "You won't let go?" We both knew that I didn't mean physically.

"Never." He admitted. Letting that sink in, I studied the width of his shirt clad chest— rising and falling rhythmically.

"Gia! Jesus Christ-Gia!" Jumping at the sound of Macy's panicked voice, shattering through the silence, I watched Rayne with wide eyes. Frustration pricked at his features as he tightened his jaw, releasing me reluctantly. The second his masculine limbs left my body, Macy's lean frame slammed into me. Wrapping her arms around me, she sobbed into the side of my neck. "Damn it Gia! I've been worried sick-you can't just fucking take off like that." Squeezing me desperately she apologised without reprieve.

Casting me a final glance— that told me this wasn't over— Rayne crossed the yard and stormed past Joey's rigid form beside the front door. Focusing on Macy's distress, I awkwardly rubbed her lower back. "It...it's okay, Mace." Pulling away abruptly, she clasped my arms.

"I swear I didn't mean to. You were a mess and I told Joey because Rayne went ballistic-"

"Macy." Sighing, I looked to the ground. "I get it. You need an outlet too." And I did. It had been selfish, in a way, for me to have put this all on Macy. She'd been the one person who'd supported me through the darkest time in my life, no matter how hard I pushed her away, she remained at my side. To expect her to keep everything she'd seen and heard bottled up was unfair. I for one knew how those thoughts alone could chip away at your sanity. She may not have experienced what I had but she had weathered the nightmare with me.