Do Me a Favor

Posy.

I want to be angry with her. I want to hate her.

She made me fall so deeply in love with her that my existence suddenly makes sense. It had a purpose—her—and then she went away. But I can’t hate her because my love for her keeps smothering it. My hunger. My obsession. She’s mine and I need her. I need her.

If we have any chance at all, there has to be trust.

Her words drift in from the darkness and my blood goes hot, pounding in my temples. Is she right? If I trust her, can I have her back? How can I do that when my ability to trust has been trampled so thoroughly? And now she’s left me. Left me after saying she wouldn’t. I would be a fool to find hope in anything she says, wouldn’t I?

If we have any chance at all, there has to be trust.

I roll onto my chest and grind my head against the concrete floor, slamming it there once. Twice. No amount of bashing is going to get her voice and image out of my brain. But I need to see her in person or I’m going to lose whatever is left of my sanity.

And there is something else.

A thorn under my skin twisting and twisting, telling me she is not safe. She is not safe being away from me. There is a threat to my Posy out there. My gut tells me what…who…represents this threat to her—and I’m afraid to believe what my instinct is telling me. Because it means Posy is in danger. And it means I’ve believed a lot of falsehoods over the years. From my brother. Baker.

Did he bring me Posy because he was rewarding me?

Or punishing her?

A snarl transforms my face and I climb slowly to my feet, stumbling toward the other room. Rushing through a shower and a change of clothes, though these ones are threadbare and old, as well. Not worthy of the ballet by any stretch, but I need to go there. I need to be with her or I’m certain I’m going to stop breathing.

“Posy,” I rasp, lunging for the front door of my home. I haven’t been outside in years, however, now I’m more afraid to remain inside these four walls without ever smelling her sweet scent again. Never holding her, kissing her or hearing her voice. No, I can’t do it. I cannot. And I think she might be unsafe. If my girl needs me, then I will be there. Even if she has ripped my heart out, I will find her again and again. It’s my life now. Going to her.

A moment later, I step into an orange sunset and my hand flies up to shield my eyes. Across the street, some kids ride by on their bikes and gape at me, pedal faster.

“Please,” I shout hoarsely at them. “Where do I find the ballet?”

I’m a leper among the elite.

Walking through a sea of suits and sequins, the differences between me and Posy registering like daggers in my stomach. Maybe I pleased her body for a time, but she left because there is no world where beauty makes sense with a beast—and that’s what I am. Prowling down the red carpeted center aisle of the theater while violins and cellos hit their crescendo in the air. There are ballerinas on stage. None of them are her, though, and therefore they might as well be invisible. I want her now. I need her now.

I don’t realize I’m saying those words out loud until security guards rush up the aisle, hands creeping to their hips, as if they are on the verge of drawing their guns. “Sir? You need who?” They approach me cautiously, patrons beginning to flee up the aisle behind me and on the sides of the theater. “Who do you need? Are you looking for someone?”

“Posy,” I push out of my raw throat. “Now!” I shout, my skin becoming too tight for my bones. I’m imploding without the sight of her. The smell of her. The longer I’m away from her, the more I’m losing my will to live. “Posy!” I bellow at the top of my lungs.

As if I’ve truly beckoned her with my unhinged entrance, she floats out onto the stage in a cloud of white feathers and sparkling diamonds—

And my knees stop functioning. I drop to the ground, shaken. Awed.

I knew it. I knew she was an angel.

She obviously hasn’t noticed the commotion I’ve caused trying to find her and continues to dance, completely lost in the haunting strain of strings, her body leaping through the air and spinning gracefully, like something out of a dream. A fantasy. Heaven.

This girl was beneath me only hours ago with her thighs spread so eagerly? The same girl who bucked her hips on top of me, twisting my chest hair in her fists and calling me Daddy? I am not worthy of a female who can be the finest of both worlds, but here I am. Broken. Kneeling here, unable to spend any more days of my life without her, even if she spends every single one of them betraying me. Stomping on my heart.

“Just be mine,” I whisper, lurching back to my feet. “Please. No matter how, Posy.”

The guards attempt to block my path from her, finally drawing their guns, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Because she’s finally looking at me, frozen, her right hand reaching out.

“Smith,” she mouths.

My brother steps in front of me, blocking my view of Posy, and I roar through my teeth, attempting to shoulder my way past. Several more security guards have arrived in the aisle, though. Over a dozen of them. They attempt to wrestle me to the ground. I fight. I fight for everything that I’m worth and I keep my eyes on her, determined to reach her. I need to touch her. Need her skin on my fucking skin. “POSY!”

Tears beginning to track down her cheeks, she takes a step in my direction—until my brother whirls around, pinning her with a look. “Don’t you dare,” he snaps at her. “You’ve done more than enough already, tramp.”

I watch the fear come over my girl. Because of Baker.