She puts her arms around me the second I step through the front door, her hands grasping the material of my shirt as her tears begin to fall. My arms wrap around her as if instinct as her sobs are muffled by my shirt. Running my hands up and down her back, I try to calm her down, telling her we should go someone mom and dad can't hear us.
In little time I'm inside her room, the room once full of bright colors now dark as her emotions break loose. "Shh, I'm here," I whisper in her ear, brushing her hair with my fingers as Taylor lays upon me, my body pushed onto her bed as she holds me, crying.
I'm not shocked she was having sex, I know my little sister, and she knows I don't agree with some of the things she does, but now, as she's been raped, I have nothing but hate filling my heart. That bastard will pay in one way or another.
I know she won't want to tell our parents, for the police will be involved, she will be exposed to the school, and our parents will never forgive her for her past in sexual experience and partying. Why have I kept my mouth shut? I want a relationship where my sister does not hate me.
"Taylor, he will never touch you again," I whisper over and over as her sobs are muffled by a pillow she holds to her mouth, her eyes puffy and red as I stare up at the ceiling. "That bastard will never be forgiven by me and I'll never show him an ounce of kindness."
"He didn't stop, Lily. I begged him to stop, I begged him to, but he just held me down and forced me to take it."
A tear rolls down my cheek at those words, more hate filling my heart. "Where was this?" I ask, Taylor raising her head to look into my eyes.
"At his place, I called you two hours after."
"I was gone," I whisper, remembering I was with Nixon, enjoying time with him as I thought nothing of lying to my parents as my sister was being raped by a boy she trusted.
"No, even if you were gone it would have happened," Taylor cries.
And she cries until she can't stay away anymore, all through the night as demons come alive within my soul and all I want to do is show my wrath.
School comes the next morning as I arrive an hour late. After convincing my parents that Taylor was sick, I got out of the house and went to second period, bombarded with questions as to my tardiness.
All my thoughts are on today is Taylor, my little sister, the girl I was raised to also protect. All I want to do is slam my first into Adam's face, watching as blood perhaps comes from his nose as I land a kick so hard to his family jewels that he can never have sex without extreme pain. He's a rapist. He deserves to be behind bars, but I treasure my sister's happiness first. I accept that she doesn't want to be released to the school and town as a victim.
As lunch rolls around, I'm looking for Taylor's group of friends. Once I've approached them, they stare at me, wondering why I'm here. "Can I ask where Adam is?" I ask, trying to conceal my emotions that I want to let loose.
One of the girls cocks her head at me. "He's not here today, didn't you hear?"
"Hear what?" I ask, looking at the group as some look sad, others angry, and others don't know what expression to show.
"Adam's missing. His parents are about to file for a missing person once the hour period is up," a boy explains. As if I'm on autopilot, I find myself not responding as my legs carry me somewhere.
I leave.
Running out of school, I try and recall what streets to take as I start my car and think over the route I'm going to have to take. He won't be home, he won't be there.
Anger and confusion cloud my mind as I find myself sleeping down the high way, and in twenty minutes or so I'm pulling into the city, finding a place to park as I keep my eyes trained upon the building.
My feet are quick to carry me into the building, not caring about the looks I get over my attire as I head straight for the elevator. I'm a pissed off woman who'd better not be bothered at all. Pressing the button for the floor, I'm between many business people as we ascend the floors.
As I arrive at the floor, I rush out of the elevator, walking quickly down the familiar path that I took only this week. My mind races with endless conversation scenes that may happen when I walk through those opaque glass doors. His secretary isn't even here as I stand before the door, a surge of energy rushing through my body as I contemplate if this is a good idea. Of course it's not! But I'm a damn mad woman right now whose sister was raped and the boy that did it is missing.
There's no way in hell this boy went missing all on his own.
My fingers wrap around the handle as I pull the door open, meeting his eyes right away.
He's shocked to say the least as he gets to his feet, unsure as of why I'm here. I let the door shut behind me as he stands looking good as ever in another Italian suit that makes me think back to last night. "Lil-
"What did you do?" I hiss, walking to the front of the desk, cranking up my neck to meet him square in the eye.
"What did I do?" He asks, still looking shocked to see me here. "Lily, you're worrying me here."
"Adam Kenner, he's missing. I'd told you last night my sister was...raped, and now, that bastard is missing," I snap, explaining quickly as he takes only a few strides to be standing directly before me.
"What makes you think I did anything?"
He's right, what makes me think he did anything? What makes me think Nixon actually took action? I didn't even tell him who the guy was! But one look at Nixon and you could think he was part of the mafia. He could kill someone.
Nixon could, no doubt, kill a man with his bare hands.
And here I am, with no evidence, blaming this man for a missing boy.
Sighing, I sit in the chair behind me, running my hands over my face. "I'm sorry, I-I've just had a long day. I'm not thinking straight," I apologize. Nixon nods, walks around the chair, placing is hands on my shoulders.
He massages them, helping me relax as my thoughts drift back to my sister. "It's just, when your baby sister is raped, when she's taken advantage of and not respected, you just try to figure anything out. I'm sorry I came here like I did."
Arms wrap around my body from behind, a chin resting upon my head as I take in a deep breath and release one as well. "You don't need to be sorry, Lily, you're going through a rough time."
I nod my head, leaning back into his touch. We stay like this for what feels like hours until his phone rings and he has to pick it up.
"Maxwell."
He continues on with some in depth business deal about some territory rule as I decide to zone out, looking around the modern office. The second he puts down the phone he goes back to typing on his computer. A soft vibration from my phone draws my attention elsewhere.
It's from Terrance.
Tonight? Seven thirty for a movie? I'll pick you up.
"Ah, this much be the boy," a deep voice says from behind me.
Jumping in my seat, I see Nixon no longer on his computer but behind me. How the hell did he do that?!
"Er, yes, it's him."
Anger and pain sweep through his eyes as I take in a sharp breath. Nixon walks away and stares out of the window, watching the world below as if he's some god. "I'd advise you to stay away," he informs.
"And what happens if I don't. You don't own me. You don't have anything with me. We-
"I don't know about you, Lily, but by those actions last night that you not only agreed to, but also participated in clearly show you want us to become something more."
My face is red. He's right. He's damn right. I agreed to going with him, I went to his place, I stayed with him, he'll, I took off my shirt for him.
"Besides, you will only hurt his poor heart in the end."
"How do you know I'll choose you? You're nine years older than me and he's my age. He's a kind and-
"He's child, Lily," Nixon snaps, turning around to face me, those eyes like glass now. "He's a kid and you need a man."
"So now you give relationship advice," I mutter, crossing my arms as Nixon still stands before the skyline.
Getting up, I spare Nixon one small glance. Just as I reach the door, I feel those eyes upon my body.
"I'll see you tonight, Lily."
A smirk kisses his face as my throat turns dry. "I'll see you then."
<><>
Taylor sits on her bed, looking up at the ceiling as a box of tissues sits emptied by her side. Knocking on her door, I draw her attention towards me as I enter the room. "I've got to go."
"Why?" She asks, sitting up as I stand at her door.
Pain fills my heart, my mouth opening as I explain why I can't stay. Why I can't stay by her side as I leave for another night. "Work, Taylor, I'll try and return as soon as I can."
The last part of my explanation is truth. I'll be home as soon as I can. At least, I'll try.
Taylor falls back onto her bed, plugging in her headphones as my heart breaks for her. My feet are fast to carry me to my car, my navy blouse blowing in the wind as I get into my car.
In no time I'm walking through the front door, laying down my car keys on the kitchen counter. Today I've decided to not really care, to got about this house as I feel as should.
Grabbing a glass of water, I take down a long gulp. "Long day?" A dark and silky masculine voice runs through my ears as I jump.
"God, you scared me," I express, turning around to see Nixon holding out a hand for me. "What?"
"Come."
I take his hand, now used to those feels I've come to get when we touch. Leading me down the hall, I find myself examining the way Nixon's back muscles move, how every dip is formed and every muscles flexes behind that white shirt.
The piano room is the one we head into, Nixon leading me up to the bench as the polished piano looks inviting. He sets me down upon the bench, his fingers trailing up my arms as they settle upon my shoulders. "I'd like a song."
Nodding, I think of one I can remember well, that I can play without pausing to recall.
My fingers press upon the first cord and as I press down on the pedal, his fingers gently cup my neck, holding it straight, brushing my jugular vein as my back straightens. Just like all the other times I play, my body forms position as the music pulls me along for a ride, my body leaning in as a more harsh section played and leaning back as a gentle section is played.
My fingers dance across the keys, the ivory feeling like glass under my fingers as I forget where I am, just focusing upon the peace I play.
As I come to the last note, my body comes to a pause and I once again straighten my back, a warm body pressed against it as I lift my foot from the pedal and my finger from the note.
"Beautiful."
For the next hour Nixon has me play various songs, watching me from a distant chair as he drinks a glass of wine, just examining me as I work my magic across the ivories. He doesn't speak a word, only nodding when I turn around to say he wants another piece played.
Soon, my fingers are cramping and I turn around on the bench, looking over to see Nixon staring out the window. There's no moon tonight, no light forming in the house except for the pale light from a lamp. The house is silent as usual, the house always feeling abandoned.
"Nixon?" I ask, wondering if he wants another piece done. He stands up, moving across the room to the entrance.
I follow in pursuit, making my way into the grand entrance. The whole room is dark, the windows showing nothing but the night as I look around for the man I've been following. "Nixon?"
Looking around, I spot no sign of his figure, no sign that he's here. "This isn't funny."
I hear a soft chuckle. Turning around, I came face to face with him, his body leaning against the railing of the stairs. "I'm not trying to scare you, Lily," he explains.
"Then don't disappear like that," I mumble, watching as he takes a step forward, brushing my hair behind my shoulder. A finger holds my chin up, raising it so I look him square in the eye. Bitting my cheek, I take in his beauty of the night, his sharp features, the high cheekbones, chiseled jaw, the smooth skin, the list going on and on of what I see that I like.
"I won't be here tomorrow night."
Nixon raises an eyebrow, dropping my chin as his eyes darken. Why do they do that? "And why now?"
"My family is having a dinner with your neighbors, the Adams." He nods, turning around only to ascend the stairs. "I can't really leave them tomorrow for that. I've been gone quite a lot of night already," I explain, following him up the stairs.
As we come to the top, I stand on one side of the wall as Nixon does on the other. The atmosphere is becoming tense now, my heart beating fast and faster as I stay here. "Do you have a family? I mean, not to intrude, but you-
"I have one, yes. Quite big to be exact," Nixon replies.
He's opened up. He's told me something that he usual doesn't open his mouth for.
"Any siblings?"
"Two."
I leave the reply at that. Looking down the hall, I see the various room doors lined up, one at the end of the hall that seems so familiar. The room I slept in. His room. "Why so many rooms? Are they all bedrooms?"
I'm about to continue on an adventure, only, my arm is grasped in a strong hand, sparks flying through. I look back to meet his warning eyes with a dark glint in them, one that tells me to run, one that tells me he's like a predator.
Suddenly, my back is against his chest, hands running along my hips as a pair of lips latch onto my neck, sucking hard.
I let out a sigh of approval, Nixon responding well as he bites down again, this time a bit harder, this time causing my hands to forget logic as they tangle themselves in his hair. Nixon's hair never disappoints, the luscious locks that feel like silk as they run past my fingers are always there.
Somehow, I find myself being slightly picked up by his arms, carried in slow strides, and before I know it, I'm before a tall and wooden door. My body is set down and turned around.
I already know where this is going to go.
The door swings open as Nixon lands his lips on mine, already claiming dominance as I shut my eyes and grasp onto his shirt to keep him close.
There's no doubt that we have chemistry, a chemistry that ignites me into doing things I've never thought I would. Things like lying to those I respect, sneaking around, skipping school, leaving my sister, and pretty much breaking the law as I stand here, in his arms, in his room, and allowing this all to happen.
The back of my legs hit the front of the bed, the silky covers already so inviting as he pushes my body to sit down, straddling me with his strong legs as I push all 'what ifs' out of the window.
Am I being too quick to think about it? Am I being to sudden?
Oh, God, sex with a minor is illegal.
My shirt is grabbed, pulled over my head as I open my eyes to see Nixon's eyes with a strong emotions held, with one that excites me yet warns me.
"Wait."
He stops, a thin line replacing his lips.
"This is, you know, illegal."
"And whose going to find out, Lily? I doubt you tell anyone that you come here, that you come to see me."
"No, because I have to lie," I hiss, sitting up fully. "And I'd rather not lie to my sister when she's in bed, crying because she was taken advantage of by some asshole."
His eyes harden as I pull my shirt back over my head. As I try and get to my feet, Nixon grabs my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. "Go and help your sister, Lily. But remember, you can't resist much longer."
"Is that all you want? All you care for? Just sex?" I snap, pushing on his chest.
A smirk crosses his face, telling me I'd better leave before I hear his reply.
"No, Lily, it's not just sex. It's the connection, the feelings, the way you look at me, the way you are here, by me, letting my conscious know that you'll be here, that you'll be back, and that soon, you'll throw all logic and distractions out the window."
I turn on my heel, leaving the room quickly as Taylor's face flashes through my mind. He's right, I want to be here, I want to come back, I want to feel the things he allows me to. But I also know I need to stop lying. I need to be me again.
Hopping into my car, the first thing I do is pull down my shirt, three bruises already forming on my neck. I curse, driving home as I apply some makeup in the car, covering the signs that I was out somewhere else, and not at work.
That I was once again doing something I shouldn't.