Seventeen

Liz

Elle and I talked yesterday afternoon while Milo entertained himself with Bella and the foal Elle decided to name Eza. Don't know where that came from, but…her horses, her decision. Elle had given me a play-by-play of Lane's stupidity after I had turned myself in. He had returned to the house as promised, trying to take Addie with him.

Addie refused to go, and when Lane tried to forcefully drag her out of the house, Lil had stood in the way. He lifted his hand to my child, so that asshole was lucky I was in jail at the time or he would be dead. Elle grabbed Lane's arm and kicked him out of her house. She told him if he showed up unannounced again, she'd call the cops. He spewed threats of his own, ending with Elle yelling that she was going to fight for full custody of Addie.

I was pretty proud of my sister, so much that she managed to convince me to go to church with her today. So here I was, sitting in the third row pew, staring at Pastor John. I was pretty sure he knew I was coming since his sermon was about dealing with loss. I side-eyed Elle the entire time, glaring at her for this. She avoided my eyes, pretending like she didn't notice. She'd get an earful when we got home.

"I am so happy you could attend, Elizabeth. It was a pleasure to see you in my congregation today." J.D. shook my hand, his blonde hair still having that same shimmery hue, the one that made him appear to have a halo. I used to wonder if that was why he chose to become a pastor.

"You can thank Elle for that one." I eyed her again, and this time she met my gaze with a smile.

"I doubt I'll get her back here a second time, so milk it for what it's worth!" she urged him, leaving my side immediately as J.D. clutched my hand in an iron-like grip, holding me in place.

"Elle!" I shouted at her, watching her weave her way through the exiting crowd.

Oh, she's so dead!

"Why don't we speak in my office?" J.D. gestured for me to follow him towards the back corner of the church where a small door awaited. I'd only ever been there once before, and it was when I had told him about the way I was self-harming, hoping he could somehow help me. Elle had driven me here when I told her I needed help.

I followed him, seeing his office hadn't changed much over the years. It was still quaint, a small desk with a small couch along the wall. What I liked most about his office was the large, stained-glass window that filled the white walls with a kaleidoscope of colors when the sun shone. Today was a sunny day.

I took a seat on the worn cloth couch, feeling uncomfortable as hell. What was he going to tell me? What words of wisdom did he feel compelled to impart on me?

"Don't worry, Elizabeth. I won't hold you for long. I know how you are." He smiled at me, taking his spot behind his grand, worn, oak desk. His hands held onto the arms of his red leather chair with golden buttons decorating along the outline. "While I cannot fully comprehend the depth of your pain, I wanted you to know that you're not alone. And I don't just mean your sister. In Matthew 5:4, Jesus himself said, ‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.' It is my hope that you may find healing within our community, and your family."

I listened quietly out of respect, and the profound need to get better. "Grief is a personal journey, and it unfolds differently for each of us. I know attending church or seeking spiritual guidance doesn't resonate with you, but I want to offer you my support and care nonetheless. Please remember that I am here for you, not to impose my beliefs but to extend a helping hand during this challenging time. We all are. If you ever feel the need to talk, or simply to have someone listen, I am ready to lend an ear."

"Thanks, J.D." I stood from the couch, figuring that was good enough. As I took a step towards the door, I found myself frozen still. I rolled my eyes, letting out a heavy breath as I pivoted on my heel, turning to face him again. "Actually, what would you say if I told you that his ghost haunts me? That his memory is so suffocating I feel like I am drowning?"

Give me something useful J.D.

"Grief has a way of manifesting in various ways, and the weight of memories can indeed feel overwhelming. While I cannot claim to fully understand the spiritual realm, I believe that the souls we cherish deeply can leave an imprint on our hearts and minds. Maybe your connection with Lyle is a testament to the depth of your love. Let those drowning memories play out, because those are the best ones…the happy ones. Remember that one day you will see him again. That he's watching over you and your children."

"What if I can't face him again? What if I fu–mess up our children? Or what if I move on from him?"

"It's okay to let him go, Elizabeth." J.D.'s eyes softened as he looked at me, getting up from his seat. He took my hand again, mine now hidden between his two. "The only one you have to answer to is God. But I promise you, when Lyle sees you again, he won't be asking you about the bad times. Knowing him, he'll ask you about the good ones. He'll ask you how you spent your life after him. What do you want to tell him when he does?"

I was silent, mulling over his words, thinking of the time I would come face to face with Lyle again. J.D. was right. My husband would never chastise me. He'd never point out my mistakes, no matter how glaringly obvious. No, Lyle would want me to live, to show our children how to be happy again. I nodded, actually squeezing his hand back.

"Thanks, Pastor John."

He chuckled happily, never having heard me call him Pastor. "I'm always here, Elizabeth. If ever you need someone other than your sister, or Brian." He arched his brow, as if he knew something.

Elle, what the hell have you told him?

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." I tapped the side of my head, as if the action would help make a mental note of it.

"Remember that grief comes in waves, and sometimes they're as big as tsunamis or as small as foam on the shore."

I had been drowning in a tsunami, but right now — right now, the waves felt small, like something I could handle.

"I could have killed her!" I complained to Brian, recounting today's events.

He chuckled heavily at me when I told him I was called to the pastor's office, saying something along the lines of, "that's different from the principal's office." I found myself smiling, having mulled over J.D.'s words, reminding myself to focus on the good times. I wouldn't let guilt consume me every time I was with Brian.

"I am sure you could have." His fingers traced along the edge of my jaw as they made their way to my chin, tilting my face up so he could gently kiss me.

"You do that a lot." I smiled.

"What? Kiss you?"

"Yeah, that."

"You complaining, Lizzie?"

"Never!" I giggled, tickling the stubble on his chin that was looking a bit more beard than stubble here lately. "Are you growing this out?"

"Yeah. I'm going to start a new thing," he paused for dramatics, "the chin mohawk." His hand stretched across the air as if he was picturing the writing on the wall.

I laughed so hard Brian had to quiet me, kissing me to get me to stop. "That's the nicest way I've ever been shut up."

"Is it? That's surprising. And also, don't worry. I'll be clean shaven in time for the carnival."

"Not worried." I grew silent as I played with his long stubble until I finally found my words of gratitude. "Thank you for helping my daughter," I whispered, feeling more in love with him than I should. He saved my baby girl when she called. No questions asked, no complaints.

"You don't have to thank me. I will go running any time either of your children need me. I've already claimed them as my own in my heart. Sorry, but it can't be undone."

"They don't come with a return policy, so you better be careful what you say, Brian Walker, or you'll end up a family man."

"With you? That's all I've ever dreamed of." His lips pressed against my forehead, silencing me completely with his admission. I fought my body, forbidding it from producing tears. I was not this sappy.

"You better mean those words, Brian."

"I mean them with all my heart. Now, tell me what happened with Elle and Lane. I'm dying to know."

I laughed, loving how he glazed over his promise to be in my life and care for my kids like his own as if it was nothing. I told him all about Elle and Lane and Addie. Elle was fighting for full custody of Addie, and seeing as she was old enough to be able to tell the judge which parent she'd like to be with, we knew she'd get it. Lane was furious, accusing Elle of many nasty things, which only drove a further wedge between Addie and her father. Normally, my dear sister would try to mend their relationship, but she was over it. Elle was over it the moment he raised his hand to Lil.

She was tired of being the good one. Tired of being the one to turn the other cheek when she was constantly getting metaphorically slapped in the face. I would like to think she found this strength after the fight I had with Lane. But who really knows?

"Good for her. I always knew she had that fiery spirit inside her, too. The Wallace sisters: a force to be reckoned with."

"That's right, you better watch yourself." I tapped his nose, stupidly. What am I five? "Oh, that reminds me." I smirked, pausing for dramatics just like he did.

"Don't leave me hanging!" he complained, widening my smirk into a smile.

"Elle knows about us. She saw you scaling the roof Friday night."

"Oh shit. I am so sorry, Lizzie. I didn't—"

"Shhh." I placed my fingers over his lips, shaking my head. "I don't need you to apologize. I'm sort of happy she saw you. It was a good way to rip the bandaid off and tell her what's been happening."

"Really? You're not upset? You don't want to take it back?" He seemed so insecure as he met my gaze again.

"I never want to take it back. So about that Sunday sinning?" I caged the corner of my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to be whatever amount of sexy I could be.

"I'm down to sin with you any day, Elizabeth Wallace."

"Then get to it, sir." I pushed myself off my side, landing on my back so that he could climb over me.

His lids hooded in that sexy way as he dipped his head into the crevice of my neck, placing a gentle kiss on my skin. The action erupted goosebumps down my arms, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand. I shivered beneath him as his chin dipped further down my torso.

His warm breath fanned across my exposed skin, as I was just in my bra and underwear, having been mid change when Brian arrived. He snatched me up before I could dress, tucking me under the covers and begging me to stay like that for a while.

"If sinning on a Sunday sent you to hell, I would go down with a smile, knowing I got to do this with you."

"When did you become such a romantic?" I teased him, my voice more breathy than I meant it to be as I fought the arousal pooling in the lower parts of my stomach. Warmth radiated below, already feeling myself getting too excited for him.

My question was left unanswered, not that I was really looking for one, as his lips met mine again. His finger slid up and down the strap of my bra in a taunting way, lowering further each time until his finger grazed the top of my breast. My breathing deepened as a response to the increased excitement and anticipation he was causing me.

He nipped at my neck, eliciting a gasp as I enjoyed the feel of his teeth lightly scraping against my skin. His fingers finally slid the strap off my shoulder, sliding my bra down around my torso. Without a second thought, his mouth lowered to my erect nipples, wrapping his tongue around a hardened bud.

My back arched, pressing my nipple further into his mouth as my fingers tangled in the ends of his wavy black hair. His hand slowly slid over my torso, heading for my breasts and massaging them softly. Brian was learning a little too quickly how to turn me on, as he used his free hand to glide a finger over my underwear. His finger grazed over my centerfold, pressing against my clothes when he felt my wetness through the thin material.

With a pop he released my nipple from his mouth, causing me to exhale a deep moan. With ease he slid my underwear off me, pressing my legs against his chest. He then used his torso to spread my legs, giving him a full view of my now-glistening pussy. His eyes roamed over me, landing on the tattoo I have there. His finger traced over the words, teasing me with the sensuality of it all.

"There's a story here. I want to hear it."

"Later," I shook with need, " after this."

"If you want me to do what it says, I want to hear it now." His eyes were hard as he stared at me, using an authoritative voice that only turned me on more.

"Ugh, you suck." I swayed my hips as his taunting finger circled my craving clit. "Cliff note version. Lyle wouldn't catch the hint that I wanted to try it. I was too embarrassed to say it myself, so I got it tattooed. He understood after that."

Brian laughed, finding my answer very amusing as a large grin spread across his face. "Ask me, Lizzie. Ask me to do it."

Heat coursed through my body, my cheeks hot with embarrassment. I got away with not asking for it with Lyle. All I would ever have to do was point to it and he'd get down and give me what I wanted. He knew I was too embarrassed to say the words, never asking me to do so. But maybe, like Brian, he wanted to hear them.

I'm sorry, Lyle.

"You fucker."

I propped myself up on my elbows, sitting up slightly to stare at him. At the same time, he pressed his thumb against my clit, toying with it in the most pleasurable of ways. I moaned, distracted enough that I forgot how to speak. When he pulled his finger away my eyes snapped open, a newfound determination blazing inside of me.

"Fine." I snapped, trying to sound annoyed but not succeeding at all. "Brian will you…." My cheeks heated again, burning hotter with each passing second. "Will you eat me?"

"I mean, you're not exactly food, Lizzie." He smirked, earning himself a light kick in the stomach from me.

"Asshole," I muttered, feeling so mortified.

"I'm sure you're more delicious than my favorite dessert. How about we find out?"

His hands worked their way down my thighs, spreading them as they lowered. They wrapped around my legs and dragged me down towards his awaiting face. I was immediately met with the warm air of his breath before his tongue slid along the length of my slit. My breathing increased, mirroring the heightened sensations he was bringing me. My body quaked with need, wanting more…needing more.

"Definitely tastier." He smiled up at me from between my legs, causing me to roll my eyes as I let my head fall back, covering my face with my hands. He chuckled against my pussy, electrifying my body with a new sensation. I loved the vibrations of his voice against the sensitive area.

He took his time…again. Each lick was slow and intentional with shallow entries of his tongue. Eventually, he decided to throw his finger into the mix, rubbing against the walls of my aching core. When his mouth sucked at my clit, I almost lost my mind, screaming out a loud moan that I drowned into the pillow beside me.

"I can't take it when you moan," he whispered, finally stopping my pleasurable torment. "I promise, tomorrow you'll cum from only my mouth, but tonight, I need to be buried deep inside you."

"Then get in already."

We both smirked at one another before he kneeled, making his way towards me. He surprised me when he grabbed both of my legs, pressing them against his chest. He aligned himself just right, muttering a cocky "sorry" before thrusting himself so deep inside me I swear I could taste dick.

He pounded into me with the speed of a jack-hammer, filling the room with the sound of our slapping skin. I half wanted to shush him, but it felt so damn good I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone mutter a word. My orgasm was building, and when his hand slid between my thighs to let his fingers play with my clit, I lost whatever grip I had on my self-control and let myself cum. It was so strong that I held my breath through it, feeling lightheaded when I let the waves of pleasure wash over me.

"I'm going to cum all over you, Lizzie. Be a good girl and let me."

Holy shit.

I was still reeling from his words when he pulled out, letting go of my legs as he pumped his cock, shooting ropes of hot cum over my thighs, pussy, and lower abdomen.

There's so much!

He didn't plop next to me as I assumed he would. Instead, he sat on his ass, staring at me like I was some kind of painting. It was as if I was a portrait for him to admire — to memorize.

"Um, clean up. Please." I gestured to his mess over me, seeing him give me yet another fucking sexy smile before getting off the bed. He came back with toilet paper, which he used to clean me up. I watched him go back to the bathroom with the dirty paper, but he didn't re-emerge. It wasn't until I heard the water running that I realized what he was doing.

"Hey. I'm the one that got super dirty. I need a shower, too." I almost bumped into him as I headed into the bathroom, seeing him trying to exit.

"What'd you think I was doing? This is for you." He stepped back to allow me inside.

Frick frack. Can't stay mad at him.

"Thanks."

He didn't let me shower alone, washing me off along with himself. We dried quickly and made our way back to bed, where he scooped me into his arms and laid me on his chest. I traced over the circle tattoo of doodles, getting a better look at them now.

"Your turn. Tell me the story."

"Look closely, Lizzie. Don't you recognize it?" I furrowed my brow, sitting up a bit so I could get a better look. "They're your doodles. The ones you'd make under Oakley."

I gasped as I recognized them. Mrs. Ghost, Rawry T-Rex, Sad Lex, and Cherry Chika. All my little made-up characters collaged into the circle in different scenes. Every image of a doodle I once created in the pages of a sketchbook he asked for as a present for his birthday when I was a broke mofo who couldn't afford to get him anything.

"Brian," I whispered, tracing the tattoo.

"I got it before I headed overseas for the first time. I wanted to feel like I had a part of you with me, and I was too scared to bring the sketchbook with me and lose it." He grabbed my hand, pulling me from my trance. "Don't cry. It's not meant to be sad. That's why I only chose the happy scenes. The ones you drew of our memories."

I looked closely again, seeing Sad Lex chase Cherry Chika around a tree. There was Mrs. Ghost sitting on Rawry T-Rex's back with a smile and a Halloween bucket. So many memories of him and I, that I had drawn with my characters. I didn't think he noticed my doodles were about us, but how could he not? It was pretty obvious when I thought about it.

"I love you, Brian Walker."

"About damn time."

We laid in bed talking a while longer, curled into each other. My frozen feet were nestled in the warmth of his legs as he rubbed my back soothingly. We spoke about our other tattoos, mine being things that represented the kids and a few of the memories Lyle and I shared. But there was one that was for him. An outline of a mohawk sat behind my ear, reminding me to always be bold and true to myself, the way Brian taught me.

He liked that. When he explained his tattoos, I finally got an answer to the little finch. It was meant to represent Sam. The color of the bird reminded him of the same brown shade as her hair. He got the finch because it appeared on her headstone the day they buried her. Brian was more spiritual than I thought, telling me he believed it was her sending him a message. The other tattoos were 5 dog tags around his bicep, each with a name of the person that died the day Sam did. One of them had her name on it.

"It's okay, Lizzie. You're piecing me back together again."

And you're saving me.