22
Emily
Isent David a list of outpatient rehab clinics and released him from my responsibility. He isn’t allowed to come back home until he’s clean from heroin. Period. I have to do this because I love him. If heroin is more important than me, then I need to let him go.
Kevin is a welcome distraction from everything happening with David. I lean over him and our lips meet. His tongue explores mine. His hands race over my hips and he growls. Kevin's so strong and masculine, and it makes me feel small in comparison. That’s something I’m not used to, and I love that about him.
I moan against his chest.
“Kevin?” I whisper.
“What?” He speaks into my mouth as he kisses me.
“Why won't you open up to me?”
Our sex life is a fire that has fully engulfed us. It is indescribable. That’s the depth of our connection, though. There isn’t much that will keep feeding the flame between us. Inevitably, the infamous spark that Stephen once spoke of will be lost. Without sustenance, you can't keep a fire burning. I like Kevin, but I can’t tell if his adoration of me is the only reason why I like him.
Kevin looks into my eyes. “I'm a veteran, Emily, you don't survive by being vulnerable.”
He lies down beside me, arms crossed at his chest. The flame has been extinguished for tonight.
I hear the lock on the front door open with a metallic click, followed by David's heavy footsteps on the carpet. Kevin reaches into his boot beside the bed and draws his pistol from it. He pulls the slide back to check if it's chambered and tucks it into his waistband as he stands.
“I thought you said David wouldn’t be home?”
“I didn't think he—”
“Emily?” David calls from the living room.
“I'll be right out!” I yell. I turn to Kevin. My tone is hushed but sharp. “Since when do you have a fucking gun? And why the hell do you have it here?”
“I told you. I'm a veteran. I’m almost always carrying. And to answer your second question, I don't fucking trust him.” He motions towards the door separating us from the living room, where David is waiting for me.
Kevin thinks David is a careless—if not dangerous—druggie, and David thinks Kevin is with me for the wrong reasons. Neither man shields me from their dislike of the other.
* * *
David
Emily walks out of her room and shuts the door quickly behind her. I raise my eyebrows at her and cock my head.
“What are you doing here?” she whispers, keeping distance between us. “You know you can’t come back here until you’re sober!”
“I am.”
It’s not a lie. I ditched the heroin habit and replaced it with cocaine. Besides the inconvenient fits of rage here and there, it’s a wonder drug. I feel energized and strong when I do a bump before a shift. It's no wonder that Marc does this instead of downers like heroin.
I take a step forward, wrap her in my arms, and hug her, burying my face into her neck. I hear her bedroom door open and close. Someone clears their throat. I look up and see Kevin behind her, his arms folded across his chest. His shirt rides up enough to showcase the silver gleam of his pistol.
I back away from Emily, keeping my eyes locked on Kevin.
“I didn't know you were coming home,” she stammers. She looks up at me, pleading with me to behave.
“I'm sorry I didn't text first.” I speak without looking away from him. I know what he's doing. He's in a pissing match with me. He sees me as competition, and I’m perfectly okay with that. “I think you should leave our home.” I direct my words toward Kevin.
“This won’t be her home for long.” Kevin slips his jacket on and turns to Emily. “Are you coming with me?”
Emily opens her mouth, as if to speak. Her gaze shifts between us before she shakes her head.
“I can’t, Kevin. Not tonight,” she says as he walks out the door and slams it. The picture frames on the wall rattle from the force.
“What did he mean? Why isn’t this going to be your home for long?”
“I didn’t want to tell you this way.” She releases a heavy sigh. “Kevin asked me to move in with him.”
My heart sinks at her words and is squeezed by her response. Clearly, she told him she would.
* * *