Thoughts so far? I'm curious... Team Caleb or Team Nero? ;)

Not that it's a competition, or anything.

Lemme know.

***

"Hey." His voice is low and soft and rough, and it's only been like a day but I already want to see him again. He sounds really happy to talk to me, and it makes me very, very guilty. "So, I've been trying to figure out the best way to stop keeping this from your brother..."

I feel a small smile tug at my lips. "Why, Mr. Dorn, are you saying that you'd like to spill our secrets to the world?"

His laugh is the best sound, and I feel something contract in my chest. "It's up to you, babe, but I don't know how much longer Daniel is gonna buy that the girl he knows I'm texting everyday is my mother."

Even through the phone I can see the twinkle in his bright blue eyes, the grin playing at the corner of his lips. "This is going to be super awkward, you know."

He tries to sound optimistic. "It won't be that bad..."

I switch my voice into a deep baritone, a poor impersonation of him but funny none the less. "Hey, Mr. Clark, so, like, I guess I should tell you that I've been sleeping with your daughter. Just thought you should know."

His chuckle is low and amused, and it sends little waves of want through me. "Is that what I sound like?"

"Definitely."

He laughs again, pitching the ache in my chest into overdrive. "I'm pretty sure they saw us making out at the dance last weekend, you know."

I flush. I never really thought of that, actually. "Did they say anything to you?"

A smile surrounds his words. "No, but I can feel them judging me way more than usual, so I'm not taking any chances."

"Okay, so what are we going to say to them?"

"If you want I can come over and practice." There's mischief in his voice, playful and teasing.

"You and I both know that if you come over there isn't going to be much talking." Now it's my turn to grin.

"Is that a bad thing?"

I sigh. I would love to have him over, but I'm going out tonight. "Tell you what," I begin, "if you're still alive after I tell Daniel tonight at dinner then you can come over after."

I giggle when I hear a laborious breath through the phone. "You drive a hard bargain, Clark."

"Don't I know it. Deal?"

"Deal." I can almost hear his wolfish grin. "But it's not my fault if they'll look at me sometimes and know what I'm thinking about."

I laugh. "Try to keep all those filthy thoughts to a minimum around them, how about?"

I know his smirk is dazzling. "I'll try, but it's not my fault you're so damn gorgeous."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"I'm not ready to stop trying."

When we eventually hang up, every part of me hurts. I really, really, really like Caleb. Way more than I have liked any boy since I can even remember. He is funny and cute and kind and everything I want, and I know he cares about me. So what is it?

Nero.

What about him? Thinking of him makes me feel terrible. It makes me angry and upset and confused and sad, because he is not a good person. And I know that. There is so little that I do know about him, and yet... whenever I'm around him I'm not angry or upset, I'm, well... weak. I feel weak and breathy and my heart beats a little too fast, and I'm torn between my compulsion to be furious and my irrational, stupid desire to be close to him. So what am I supposed to do?

God, Caleb doesn't deserve this. Is it selfish of me to cling to him anyways?

If you have any advice, I'll take it.

Oh, and the worst part? The only two people who know the truth about it all are: me and Nero. So the only person I could talk to this about, the only person who I don't have to lie to, is the person who I'm lying because of?

Yeah. It makes my head spin too.

•§•

get to give him hell now, right?" Daniel's eyebrow is skeptical, and he runs a hand through the messy blonde waves of his hair.

I roll my eyes, sipping my water and watching him do the same. "Like you don't already?"

He snorts, a little chuckle. "Well, now I get to do it even more." He shakes his head, bewildered. "So how long has this been going on?"

"Um," I shrug, "Since just after the banquet, I guess." Thoughts of Caleb and I, tangled together between the smooth white sheets of my bed, flash unbidden across my mind, making my face warm. Of course that's what I have to think of, sitting here across from my big brother.

"Did you tell Mom or Dad yet?" Both of us pause as our waitress sets steaming plates of dinner in front of us, and we give her a quick thanks.

"Yeah, I mentioned it when I spoke to them earlier today. They seemed cool about it, I guess." I start eating, trying to escape this conversation.

"It's weird to think about." His face pulls up into a kind of disgust, and I give his leg a playful nudge beneath the table. "He's such a dork."

I laugh at his expression, the twist in his eyebrows and the creases in his forehead. "What do mean?" I give him my most mischievous smile. "He's so smart and handsome and funny. He's so cute and very, very capable." A dreamy facade covers my face, my voice a flutter. "So strong and so good in—"

"Okay, okay, I get it." His face is flushed a little, and he waves a hand dismissively. "Please stop."

I toss him a wink. Mission accomplished. "So how's work?"

He groans, and I know these conversations have him stuck between a rock and a hard place. But these days, I need to know. I need to find out the damage my silence has earned. Damn it, Nero.

"Work is work, Ros." I see the way it tires him, what's going on. It must be so hard. I lend him a sympathetic smile, and we eat in silence for a while before he continues. "We have to give our defense on Thursday. And since our key piece of evidence is now off limits, we have to throw a bunch of nothing at them and hope it sticks." He sounds exasperated, exhausted, and I know why.

"But if he's innocent, shouldn't there be more evidence?" My interest is a way to assuage my guilt. It earns me a wry smile.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" His shrug is heavy, like he's carrying an extra hundred pounds of the world. And in a way, he is. For a moment, his expression cracks and I can see the fatigue, the worry and anxiety and futility that is normally masked behind a joke and a smile. Oh, Daniel.

When he speaks, it's honest, confiding. Raw and so, so done. "It's just, the law is supposed to be straight forward, you know? Cut and dry." He takes a sip of his wine, and I know the alcohol is soothing his worried mind. "But this?" He laughs a dry, sardonic chuckle, a slight shake of his head. "This is a fucking mess."

I take his hand across the table, and the frustration melts off his face. "This is not your fault, Daniel." Internally, I swallow a lump of guilt. "You guys can't let it get to you like this." The earnestness in my voice pulls him out of his dark place, and the mood lightens.

"Alright, Rosy." The smile he gifts me is easier, fuller. "Talk to me about something else, okay?"

He pales when he sees the playful mischief written all over my face, but I speak again before he can protest. "Mm, well, Caleb is just so dreamy..."

His groan is all I need to think that things might just be okay.

•§•

terrible, horrible person. Shitty, no good, evil, pathetic... Feel free to contribute.

I clutch the sheets of my bed, the sight of his golden hair and pink lips and that dust of stubble across his cheeks between my legs enough to spark a fire there before he even touches me. First it's his breath and then, oh fuck, it's his lips, his mouth, tongue and damn it, oh, it's soft and wet and it takes me less than a minute to shatter, digging my fingers into the bed and pressing myself against his face and crying his name so loud someone will definitely hear it. It's blinding and searing and it's ecstasy.

I let him kiss me and I taste it all on him, and it's so bad but I can't let this man stop touching me. And from the way he calls my name when we tumble down the cliff together, him inside of me, it's the same for him.

After, I run my fingers across the planes of his chest and his hands travel down my hip, and he whispers into my hair how being with me makes him forget all the bad things in his life, the case, the threats, everything. His soft, rough voice tells me how everything about me is perfect. How he can't imagine anyone as perfect as me.

And when we sat there, holding each other, touching and kissing and laughing and fooling around beneath the pile of blankets and sheets, it hit me like a ton of bricks. It knocked the wind out of me.

I had to wiggle from his grasp to 'use the bathroom' but really I just sank to the tiled floor in my panties and put my face in my hands and realized. I just realized. What a terrible, terrible person I am. I could feel my eyes prick and yeah I was gonna be on my period in a few days but like, shit.

This perfect, perfect man thinks that I am capable of no harm. The truth? I'm rotten. I'm a liar and a cheater and if I wasn't so selfish I would push him away because I don't deserve him and he doesn't deserve this.

Damn. I could feel the tears dampen my cheeks and I used my arm to stifle the sobs. Surely I wasn't always such a bad person? Surely, not all of this was my fault? But as I thought of Caleb, of Daniel, of my dad, all of whom I care about and all of whom I'm hurting, I wondered if protecting myself is the right thing to do, or if it just makes me weak.

Maybe I should just tell them. Tell them everything and leave nothing out and then whatever happens happens.

But, sitting there on the cold ground, Nero's face filled my head, filled my thoughts and my brain and ruined me.

I remembered his hard grip on my wrist and the chilling sneer across his perfect face that first time he threatened me, I remembered hearing him and Angelo, I remembered the picture of the corpse on the TV screen and every part of me hurt.

And then, of course, I remembered his lips on me, his hands. I remembered our clothed chests pressed together and his fingers in my hair and our breaths, I remembered the look of concern, of regret and sorrow on his face in the elevator. I remembered it all.

I rubbed the tears from my cheeks, flushed the toilet and splashed my skin with cold water, staring at my face in the mirror. I pinched myself, watched colour replace the paleness.

Surely, there has to be a solution. Something that would mean my soul was not forsaken, something that would mean I was worthy of forgiveness and kindness and love. And how? Who was the only person who could give me that, who could put an end to all of this? Was it me? Caleb? No. Nero. Just thinking of him made me warm, makes me warm. Makes me hate myself. Makes me feel so damn messed up.

And, standing there, having spent way too long in the bathroom for it to not be gross, I resolved to end it. And I will.

***

A/N:

Whatever you say, Ros, whatever you say.

Thoughts, comments, concerns? ❤️

XOXO Ami

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