His Everything (Not Just Friends 2)

Lauren pushed a strand of his hair away from his forehead, the lock soft. She stared at his face and saw the relaxation in his expression. Right now he was at peace. Even with his eyes closed she knew he had the most beautiful blue eyes, ones that could suck a person in with their brutality.

She breathed out and dropped her hand back to her side. All the horrible things she’d been told about what his father had done to him, about the burnings with cigarettes, the beatings, locking him up in closets when he was “bad”, all of that broke her heart over and over again.

She loved this man more than life itself, but she wanted to protect him; and professing her love, wanting him in more than just a friendly way when he needed to get his life straightened and healthy wasn’t going to help anything.

“I love you,” she whispered, smiling when his eyebrow twitched. She ran a finger over the dark brow and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.

“Lauren,” Ace said in a soft, still sleepy voice. He slowly opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and then he sighed, as if he were in pain. “I hate you seeing me like this.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I called you last night, didn’t I?”

“You did, but I’m here now. I didn’t get the message until just a little bit ago.”

He pushed himself up, moved a hand over his hair, down over his face, and scratched his chest.

She looked at his chest, at the tattoos that he was still working on getting, some of them partially done, and still needing to be colored in. There was a long knife scar on his side, and she knew it was from a time his father had come home drunk and attacked Ace. She felt so much pain for him, wished she could take it away, but all she could do was be here when he needed her.

He breathed out, saw her looking at his scar, and when she reached out to touch it he grabbed her hand in a gentle hold.

“Lauren…” He sounded pained now, and she wanted to wrap him in a hug. They may only be nineteen, and he may play the strong guy that didn’t let anyone in or hurt him anymore, but she could look in his eyes and see how much he was hurting.

“I hate that you won’t let me help you, Ace.” They were close, so close, but she knew he had this darkness inside of him that slowly ate at him, that built these walls around him that kept people out.

He was silent for several moments, and when he cupped her cheek in his big hand, and she leaned into it, she swore she saw a wall break away.

“I’m so fucked up, but I try and pretend like I’m okay.”

She nodded and covered his hand on her face with her own. “I know, but I’m here. You know that, Ace.” She squeezed his hand. “You have to stop this, Ace. You have to let me help you.”

He nodded now. “I know, but I don’t want you contaminated by the toxicity that’s inside of me.” He breathed out roughly, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “But then I get drunk, think about you and how important you are to me, and I do stupid shit like call you. Hell, I don’t even know what the fuck I said in the message.”

She smiled even though his eyes were closed. “You said you missed me, but that you were so tired.” Replaying what he’d said in her message made her sad, because he’d sounded so sad in it. That was why she’d gotten so worried. “Why do you do this to yourself? Why don’t you just let me be here with you when you feel out of control?”

And then, right in front of her and shocking her, Ace broke down. He cried, his big body shaking. She climbed on the bed right next to him, wrapped her arms around his much larger frame, and just held him.

He wasn’t in a good place right now. Hell, she didn’t know if he’d ever been in a good place in his life, but she’d help him get there. Lauren would not leave his side, not for anything in the world. They were in this together until the end.

1

Four years later

Pain isn’t just a word, but the physical feeling caused by disease, injury, or something that hurts the body. It’s a mental or emotional suffering, one that is so profound, so intense, it can end a life with no effort. Sadness, tragedy, or even self-hatred can cause the crippling effect of that pain, can render a person immobile, and steal their breath.

All of those things and more were what Ace Renaldo had felt every day of his miserable twenty-three-year existence, and after his father died it only got worse. But there was one small sliver of light in his fucked-up life, one shred of hope that he held onto.