Reckless, p.10
Reckless, page 10
People want a Gray as their friend, not their enemy.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Francine," he says.
This is what I was afraid he would say. He's down playing this.
But I'm wrong.
He continues, "You're not alone. A lot of people deal with PTSD. You don't need to be normal. You're perfect how you are, babygirl."
The tension in my chest leaves. Finn believes me. Finn trusts me. He's not going to belittle what I've been through.
I relax from the support he gives me, and I give him one other secret. "My birthday isn't on Wednesday," I confess.
"Oh yeah? When is it?"
"Yesterday."
His fingers comb through my tangled hair as he presses a soft kiss to my forehead. "Why do your friends think it's on Wednesday?" he asks.
I squint, hating the answer. "I don't like celebrating my birthday because it reminds me of how lonely I really am. I haven't had a birthday party since I was five.
"Nyla's family makes her favorite food for breakfast every year. Duncan's parents take him to a football game. Willow’s family goes to some kind of theatrical performance. Even Ryleigh has a party with her mom and her little brother.
"My family doesn't see my birth as something worth celebrating. I was a... mistake." I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep my tears from overwhelming me. It's my truth that hurts so much. I'm unwanted.
"They're idiots. They should be damn proud of you. For one, aren't you projected to be valedictorian?" he asks.
How does he know this? Recognizing my surprise, he smirks.
"You’ve really been watching me?"
He trails his finger down my jaw, pulling a quiet moan from me.
"It's pretty common knowledge. It's posted in the main office, Princess."
I smile at my assumption.
"One other thing," he starts before pressing his forehead against mine. "Happy birthday, babygirl."
The lump in my throat is hard to swallow as the butterflies go crazy in my stomach. I’ve never had this feeling when any of my friends wished me a happy birthday. Finn says it with so much affection and sincerity.
"Thank you."
CHAPTER 11
HER
"Here you go," Finn utters as he saunters back into the room wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans. He has my clothes from last night bunched in his hand.
The sight of him does crazy things to my heart. Everything about him screams bad boy from the canvas of tattoos across his chest and arms, and the red rose tattoo that travels along his throat, to the bulging muscles covering his body. There is always danger in his icy blue eyes, and his fists are constantly clenching and releasing like he’s ready for a fight.
I didn't think I was one of those girls who'd swoon at the sight of a bad boy, but Finn constantly proves me wrong. He is a bad boy and I am swooning.
"Thanks. I appreciate you taking care of me, but you didn’t have to change my clothes."
He hands them to me. "I kinda didn’t have a choice. You, um, soiled yourself."
I did what? Oh God! That's so mortifying. "Ahhhhhhhh." Embarrassment has me covering my face with my hands.
"Shit happens. I cleaned you up."
At his words I look at him in horror. “I shit myself?!” I shrek, wanting his bed to swallow me whole.
A humorous smile consumes Finn’s handsome face and he is quick to calm my outburst. “No,” he’s barely able to choke out through his laughter. “Just number one.”
I peak out from my hands, only slightly relieved. He didn't have to take care of me, but he did. He cleaned me and changed my clothes when I was too out of it to do it myself.
It's obvious from the lack of pain between my legs that he didn't do anything he shouldn't have. We slept in bed together and Finnick O'Reilly was a complete gentleman.
“Well, thank you. That was very kind.” I set down the shirt and look around the room. "Where are we anyway?" It’s a normal sized bedroom with painters white on the walls. There’s no pictures on them and no random dirty clothes littering the hard wood floors. There's the full-sized bed I'm on with the fluffy dark blue comforter, a dresser, and a stereo, but other than that, the room is bare.
"My house," he answers.
Realizing I haven’t heard anyone else in the home, I ask, "And your parents are okay with me being here?"
He laughs, giving me a slow head shake, a brown lock falls in front of his eyes.
"What?" I press for more as I brush my fingers through my hair.
"I don't live with my parents. This is my house."
What? This is his place? Wow. I was not expecting that.
"How old are you?" I ask, a bit concerned. When we first met all those years ago, I thought he was much older than me. He's a senior in high school therefore there can’t be that much of an age difference, right?
"I'll be twenty in three months. I had to redo my freshman year twice," he says.
I relax. Okay. So, he is older than I was hoping, but being nineteen isn't much of an age difference.
That means when we met, I was eight and he was ten. That explains why he was so much bigger than me.
"Why did you have to repeat?" I ask.
"It had nothing to do with my classes." He doesn't say anything else.
He's hiding this, but I let him keep his secret. He's been so great with me. He deserves to keep his secret if he wants to.
"Um…" I direct my attention to the clothes that Finn washed, then redirect it to the shirt and boxers I'm wearing that surely belong to Finn.
He stares at me expectantly.
"Can I get some privacy to change?" I ask nervously.
He laughs hysterically. "I've seen you half naked and you're still uncomfortable changing your clothes in front of me?"
I blush with embarrassment. Since I’m spilling secrets, I may as well share this one. "I have body dysmorphia. I think my body is disgusting and I'll always be nervous about people seeing me without my clothes on. I don't even like wearing a swimsuit. It makes me feel self-conscious, and Ryleigh always makes fun of me because I'm not one of those girls who will strut around the beach in a bikini. They don't understand," I confess.
A frown mars his handsome face as he strolls over to me. "Do they know about your PTSD?"
His question stuns me and reminds me of what I'll be facing tomorrow. "They do now. I mean, how could they not? I kicked Duncan in the… and he wasn't doing anything wrong. At least, I don't think he was. I was screaming. I must've scared everyone."
"You never told them, though?"
I shake my head. No. I couldn't. "You're the only person I've ever told," I confess.
I never wanted to tell anyone, but I trust Finn. He's the bad boy I shouldn't trust, the villain I should run away from, but I can't.
I'm falling for this dangerous man, and that scares and thrills me at the same time.
Finn takes my hand and pulls me to my feet, hugging my body to his.
"Lift up your arms," he orders me, and I'm uncertain about doing this. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
"I know," I say, my voice shaking. I slowly reach up, stretching my arms.
Finn sends me an approving smirk before he takes the hem of the shirt and pulls it over my head.
I'm standing before him in just my pink pushup bra and his navy-blue boxers. I try to cross my arms over my chest. I feel ugly. I have fat on my stomach and my boobs are too big. My biceps sag and everything about my body makes me cringe.
When I'm filled with desire, it's easy to forget, but not when I'm consciously thinking about how gross I am.
"No, don't," he demands and pulls my arms from my body, forcing them back up in the air. His fingers trail down my wrists and the length of my arms until he reaches my collarbone. He touches every ridge of bone or swell of muscles until his palm descends on my stomach.
I take a ragged breath as he kneels in front of me. My psyche breaks, instantly shattering right there.
He's crouched in front of me, his hands flat against my tummy, as if he's worshiping me.
"Don't move, babygirl." His words sink in as his hands skim over the waist of the boxers and he slowly tugs them down until my core is exposed to him.
A gasp escapes me because I wasn’t expecting him to do that.
"Fuck," he groans as he keeps his hands in the safe zone of my hips. "If it wasn't for your stupid no cheating rule, I'd be devouring your pussy right now. You're dripping for me."
It's true. This whole experience is filling my body with tension. My core is vibrating with desire.
"But this right here isn't sexual. Your body is perfect. Your ass, your pussy, your stomach, your arms. There isn't a single blemish or flaw in sight." He presses a soft kiss on my hip before moving to my stomach. His hands slide back up and he presses another kiss right above my belly button. "Your stomach is flat and toned." Then, he stands up and his fingers go straight for the clasp of my bra.
My body stiffens, knowing he's going to take it off.
He looks at me with his eyes nearly a deep, dark ocean blue as he unsnaps it and pushes the cups from my breasts. His eyes bore into my chest and I want to hide, but I don't. My arms stay where they are—pointed at the ceiling.
An aroused growl slips from his lips. "Fuck. Your tits are so fucking perfect." Then, he cups them in his hands, supporting them. He's not squeezing or teasing, only touching.
"Finn," I whine his name in protest.
This breaks the no cheating rule. He's touching my bare breasts, and this is very sexual.
"You're beautiful and so fucking sexy, Francine. You deserve better than to think differently." He slowly removes his hands from my chest. "Get dressed before I really make you break that no cheating rule." With his hands free, he reaches down and massages his rod through his jeans.
I don't hesitate, but it's not because I'm uncomfortable with my naked state. He makes me feel less self-conscious about it, though it hasn't completely disappeared.
It's because I know it's not an empty warning. He's horny like I am. He lost control for a second and I don't want to chance it happening again.
I go home and shower to get ready for one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I feel horrible about what I did to Duncan. I know he was only trying to be helpful and care for me, but I hurt him and probably freaked him out.
If this morning has taught me anything, it's that even if there is a no cheating rule in place, there is still room for error. If I was turned on like I was in the woods, Finn grabbing my boobs would've turned into cheating. Luckily, I said something before it went too far.
I don't have a choice. I need to break up with Duncan today, and I need to be honest with him. I have to tell him that there’s something between me and Finn, that I don’t return Duncan’s feelings, and that our relationship of six years is over.
It will be hard, but it's the right thing to do. We can still be friends. We just can't be in a relationship together. I need to be single while I work out this thing between me and Finn.
Plus, if I take too long, that will upset Finn. I don't like upsetting him, but it's not because I'm scared. It's because I don't want to disappoint him. Disappointing him makes me feel lower than I ever have. It's not his fault. This is an issue within me. I have to work through it on my own.
The trip to Duncan’s home is quicker than I would have liked. Before I know it, my Beetle is pulling into his driveway. There aren't any vehicles in the driveway, which I expect.
Duncan's mom teaches art classes at the youth center on Sundays. Duncan's dad is away at a business seminar in New York. Clara, his sister, is on my dance team, and is probably still at the beach.
When I called Nyla, she said Duncan hitched a ride with someone and went home to avoid any issues. He left the van there so everyone else could get home safely.
That sounds like Duncan, but something about it makes me uncertain—like something is going on that I don't know about.
Something important.
I stride to the front porch and grab the key in the old mailbox on the siding. Unlocking the door, I step inside.
This house is usually bustling with noise, but all I hear is a slight creaking upstairs. It’s probably Duncan pacing around, worrying about last night.
"Duncan!" I call, but the creaking floor is the only response. Climbing the stairs, I grip the wood railing firmly.
This place has been my second home since Duncan and I met when his family moved to Grove Hill. It's sad that I won't be visiting as often as I used to.
"Duncan?" I'm unsettled now. Why isn't he answering? He usually does when I show up. Is he okay? The speech I have performed a thousand times is running through my head as I reach for the knob to his bedroom. If there’s any way, I really hope that we can remain friends.
I open his door and freeze. I’m stunned… and a part of me—more than I'm willing to admit—is heartbroken by what I see.
"Oh my god!" I cry as I see Duncan... and Gloria Santos. They're naked, their bodies coated in layers of sweat, and the nauseating smell of sex fills the room.
She's bent over his bed and he's behind her, ramming into her.
"Francine!" Duncan gasps, mid thrust. Duncan looks shocked, but Gloria….
Gloria smirks at me triumphantly. Her face says I win in the most disgusting way possible.
Duncan removes his cock from her dark pit of peril and grabs his clothes, trying to cover himself and the condom hanging from him. But there’s no point. What he has done is something he can never hide from. I'm not sure I even want to be his friend after this. I turn on my heel, my name being yelled chases me down the stairs. I need to get away from him, from this. From Gloria.
Sure, Duncan cheating on me hurts, but the fact that it was with Gloria, makes it ten times worse. Even though I've been fighting hard, so I don't do the same thing with Finn. It's been difficult not to even kiss him when I have feelings for him and I restrained myself because I didn’t want to hurt Duncan.
"Francine, wait, please!"
How long has he been doing this? Is this why he didn't seem to care we weren't having sex? Has it been days, months—maybe years?
I throw open my car door, climb in, and speed off down the street, heading back to the solitude and safety of my house.
I spend the rest of the day in my home, hiding from everything. I haven’t left my position, crying on the floor. Everytime I feel like my tear ducts have run dry, a fresh wave of sobs rack my body.
The betrayal is deep and makes me feel like an idiot. I thought Duncan was better than this. He wasn't a cheater, or so I thought.
What does a cheater look like, though? Does a cheater look like a sweet boy next door who plays football and has the same girlfriend for six years? I don't know anymore.
My front door rattles as a loud knock sounds. I’m not getting up. I don’t have the energy to move much less talk to people. And if it's Duncan? I definitely don’t have the energy for that.
"Open up, Princess."
Finn?
A frisson of adrenaline courses through my body from just his voice. I want him to take me in his arms and tell me that it doesn't matter what Duncan did. Now, there's nothing holding us back.
It does matter, though. Duncan betrayed me and now I'm hurting.
"Francine? Open the door!" Now, he’s furiously shaking the knob. But then the mechanism clicks. Apparently, I was so distraught when I came home that I forgot to lock the door. He pushes it open and next thing I know, he's kneeling in front of me, moving my hair from my face. "Francine, what's wrong? What happened?"
A sob slips from my lips from the emotional agony. "I went to see Duncan," I admit, my voice cracking as I speak.
His eyes widen then narrow with disdain as his jaw clenches. "What did he do?"
I slowly shake my head, hoping it will clear my mind of the pain, but it's for naught. The pain is still present. The betrayal is red hot and the mistrust ice cold, like Finn's beautiful eyes staring into mine.
"Did he hurt you?" he asks, his voice softer this time.
"Yes," I whimper as I fight the tears like a raging battle. "I caught him. I caught him. Red-fucking-handed." My phone rings again like it has been all day, but instead of pressing the ignore button, I kick the offensive device across the room.
"Caught him?" Finn presses, unfazed by my childish maneuver..
I rub the tears from my face, I must look horrible, but Finn doesn’t seem to care. "I caught him fucking Gloria. Like, of all people, it had to be her. He knows how much she hates me and wants to make my life miserable. Like, my life isn’t already fucking miserable! My boyfriend of six fucking years cheated on me with the biggest bitch in all of Grove Hill." Somehow I’m able to jump to my feet, my hurt turning into anger, energizing me. Unbridled rage. "I deal with my PTSD like a damn toddler too short to reach the fucking toilet! None of my friends know anything about me! I barely sleep enough to function. Everyone expects me to be this girl that has her shit together, but I don't! I'm fucked up. I couldn't even tell Duncan I wasn't going to take him back before this shit happened!" I take a deep breath but apparently I’m not done. “Fuuuuuuck!”
I'm losing my mind. I've never cursed this much, but it feels so good and helps me relieve the stress that's been building.
"Francine, calm down," Finn says.
My anger is boiling and becoming misdirected. It’s now targeted at Finn. "Fuck you! I was handling this shit fucking fine before you came along!" I yell at him.
His eyes narrow on me. "Princess—"
"Don't fucking call me that! I'm not a fucking princess. You're the fucking asshole who has destroyed my life. Thank you so much for that, Finnick!"
Next thing I know, my back is pinned to the wall. My wrists are pinned above my head with one of his large hands, and his other is around my throat, holding me in place. He leans in close, his scruff scratches my cheek as he growls in my face.
"You listen to me, babygirl," he starts.
My insides turn into a reservoir of contentment from his sexually aggressive touch. It’s both aggravating and wonderful.
