The Locket

I went out through the glass doors and walked towards Brent. He was upset, really upset. My heart sank as I got closer. I lunged toward him, wanting to wrap my arms around him, craving him to do the same.

He put a hand out in front of him and shouted, “Don’t!”

His voice was cold, putting a solid layer of ice between us that stopped me in my tracks. He took the bag from my hand. “Get in the car, Claire,” he ordered without looking at me.

“Brent, we need to talk about this,” I pleaded, rolling the bottom of my sweatshirt nervously between my fingers.

“Get in the goddam car, now. I mean it, don’t fight me on this.” His voice was seething, the anger rolling off of him in waves.

Annoyed, I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head in disbelief. I spun on my toes and stomped purposefully to the passenger door of the black Explorer Brent was driving. After getting in I slammed the door shut. Why does he have to talk to me that way?

He opened the back gate and put my bag inside. I jumped when he slammed the gate closed. Starting to cry, I watched Brent slide into the driver’s seat and grip the steering wheel so tightly I thought he might jar it loose. His jaw was tightly clenched and his lips were flat. He stared straight ahead. Despite my annoyance with him, I felt awful about what he had seen.

Reese was in the backseat listening to his iPod. He wouldn’t look at me either. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“I know you’re mad,” I started. “But…”

Brent didn’t let me finish. “Mad doesn’t begin to describe what I feel right now, Claire.

I blinked rapidly at his harsh response and wiped away tears. “Tell me, then.”

He refused to look at me and it was making me insane.

“Rage. That’s a more fitting word,” he huffed bitterly, starting to turn the key, but stopping. “I have been out of my mind, Claire. I thought I might not make it in time… that you might be…” He trailed off unable to finish his sentence, but I knew what he was going to say. Dead. He thought Logan might have killed me.

“I’m fine, Brent,” I tried to reassure him.

He spoke through gritted teeth, still not looking at me. “Yes, I could see that when I showed up, and you were sucking face with that prick.”

“It wasn’t what you thought,” I argued, reaching for his hand which he pulled away.

“It sure as hell looked like you were enjoying it, Claire,” he spat, pounding his fist into the center console. I shook my head in rapid denial, wracked with guilt because I did enjoy it. But it was different.

He finally looked at me, his eyes burning indignation.

“Do you want to be with him?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“God, no!” I exclaimed. “I love you, Brent.”

His head fell back and I leaned over the console, getting closer to him. I saw disbelief on his face.

“How can you doubt that?” I asked.

“I saw it all, Claire. He had his hands on you and his tongue in your mouth.”

I put myself in Brent’s shoes and imagined him kissing someone else. It left a foul taste in my mouth. He straightened up and leaned into me, placing his fingers on my lips, and then sagged back into his seat. He didn’t have to say it. I knew what he was thinking. That someone else had shared my lips in a way that should only be for him.

“Claire, my heart splintered in half when I saw the two of you kissing, and then I noticed your face and I saw black. I wanted to kill him.”

I knew Brent was replaying the scene in his mind and it was eating away at him. Needing some way to make him understand, I crawled over the console onto his lap, ignoring the fact Reese was in the back seat.

I leaned into him, amazed by how good it felt to have him heal me. My body was bruised and weak after the ordeal I had just been through. Brent’s touch took it all away, instantly. The energy from him healed me completely and I was grateful. It would take me days to recover without him.

Brent’s body stiffened. “What are you doing, Claire?” he asked sharply.

“Shhh,” I whispered, placing my forehead on his while I focused my thoughts on everything that happened since I left Reese’s house. The events played out between us. The phone call. Why I went to see Logan. The assault, which caused Brent to shake beneath me. We saw Logan’s painful confession and we heard my father’s words. When Logan slid his hand under my shorts, placing them between my legs, it was too much for Brent to take. He made an effort to force me away, but I gripped his face and held it tight, letting the scene play out until the very end when he and Reese came through the door. I saw the understanding and pride on his face.

He cupped the back of my head and brought his mouth to mine. The warmth of his breath and his scent was exhilarating. I had missed him so much. He caressed my bottom lip with his tongue, teasing me. If he didn’t kiss me soon I was going to burst. He swept his tongue across my top lip before engulfing me in his mouth. The kiss was greedy and aggressive and I returned it in the same way – relentless and gasping for breath. He was claiming me with his mouth and I let him.