Follow the River

Three days.

Three goddamn days and I can still feel the aftermaths of Rain’s brutal onslaught on both my body and mind.

I don’t know if I’m more damaged physically or emotionally at this point.

And the worst part?

I fucking can’t stop thinking about him.

Even sitting here on the couch, Fahrenheit 451 in my hand, I find my mind drifting to thoughts of him.

What is he thinking? Is he regretting what he did to me?

After he left me in the shower, he went to his bedroom and didn’t leave it for over a day. At least that I could tell. It’s as if he waited until he knew I was out hiking or sleeping or something before getting food or using the bathroom.

I haven’t actually seen him in those three days, only glimpses of his shadowed figure moving in the hallway.

At this point, I can only be grateful for that. Ignoring each other, while it never lasts long, is preferred to constantly being in each other’s faces, ready to throw down at any second.

I was already sick of constantly living on my toes, always having my guard up any time we are in the same room. I have a feeling it will only be worse now, after what happened in the shower.

The. Fucking. Shower.

His cruelty has known no bounds since he found out my sexuality all those months ago. I’ve become used to it, almost numb in a way. He isn’t the first person to hate or dislike or shun me because I’m into both sexes. At a certain point, you grow thick skin and it all just slides off your back, making you stronger.

That’s what it’s been like with him. Hurled insults and punches, nothing but sticks and stones and words that try to hurt me. And in all that time, they never succeeded.

But what happened in the shower? It went beyond torment.

The word rape plays around in the back of my mind, but deep down I know I could have stopped it if I wanted.

But I didn’t want to stop. I wanted it. Him.

Ciaráin Grady is many things I've come to learn in these months of knowing him.

Cruel. Antagonizing. Intoxicating. Yes, absolutely.

But a rapist? No, I refuse to believe that.

Still, that doesn’t stop me from hating myself for the conflicted emotions ru

Because there is one thing he will always be.

My enemy.

Rain is the first one to break our stalemate. If I can pride myself about anything when it comes to him, it’s that I’m never the one to give into the silence surrounding us due to his malice.

I’m maybe thirty pages from the end of my book when he comes down the hall, looking, dare I say…chipper?

Okay, that’s not true. Just less broody than usual.

His hair is slightly damp from a shower and he's wearing a black hoodie and jeans, holding his backpack in his hand. I watch as he slides his shoes on and shrugs into a jacket, all while avoiding making eye contact with me.

Turning my attention back to my book, I hear the familiar sound of the fridge opening and water being poured into a glass.

It’s not for a couple more minutes until he speaks.

“I’m heading down into town on the ATV, I need to grab some stuff from the store. Do you need anything?”

Glancing up at him over the back of the couch, I make eye contact with him for the first time in three damn days. His golden eyes don’t give much away, they usually don’t when his armor is on, but I think they seem to be slightly softer when he looks at me today.

I can only hope that’s a symptom of guilt.

“I don’t think so, but thanks,” I reply

At least he’s being civil...

But then something crosses my mind.

The door opens behind me and I call out, rolling over the back of the couch before Rain steps outside. “Hey, actually, can I go with you?”

He pauses in the threshold and faces me. “I guess, but you’re riding bitch.”

Rolling my eyes, I grab my shoes, sliding them on and toss on a jacket before following him out to the shed which houses our only means of transportation.

He starts the engine up with ease, pulling it free from the shed, which I close behind him. My eyes move to the small seat behind where he’s sitting. Where I’m supposed to sit.

“Well are you coming or not?” he snaps.

Biting my lip, I step onto the footholds and swing my leg over the seat. I do my best to keep distance between us, my fingers gripping the rack on the back, but as we begin moving down the mountain, I can’t help my body sliding into his due to gravity.

Still, I fucking try to give him his space, clutching the bars behind me for dear life, my arm muscles straining with the effort. After slipping down and pulling myself back about fifty fucking times, Rain reaches back and grips my knee with one hand, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“For fuck’s sake, just hold onto me, I’m sick of you sliding into my backside,” he shouts over the roar of the engine.

Oh there’s so much I could do with that.

Still, I keep my mouth shut.

Taking a deep breath, I uncurl my fingers from the storage rack and wrap my arms around him. I try desperately not to think about how good his back feels pressed against my torso, even with the empty backpack between us, or how my fingers are itching to slip under his jacket and sweatshirt in search of the smooth, warm skin of his abs.

I promise, I try really fucking hard.

The last thing I need is to pop a semi, or worse, a full blown boner from our bodies, fully clothed, smashed together.

We arrive down in town about thirty minutes later and my face and hands are fucking frozen from the wind since my dumb ass didn’t think to grab a pair of gloves before following him outside up at the cabin.

Slipping off the back as Rain kills the engine, I notice we’re outside a Walgreens.

“Can you grab the stuff on this list while I go to the store across the street?”

“Sure,” I tell him, taking the paper from him and looking it over. It’s simple, nothing crazy, milk and a few other groceries. When I glance back up, I see him heading across the street to a couple small shops.

Okay, then.

I spin and enter the store, heading past the checkout counter and over to the grocery aisle, quickly collecting everything from the list Rain gave me. Once that’s taken care of, I grab the couple items I wanted for myself before heading to the cashier.

After paying, I head out with my bag and the gallon of milk, seeing Rain reaching this side of the street, empty handed, which I find strange.

He extends his hand to me, taking the milk first, slipping it into his backpack he set on the seat of the ATV.

“You’re going to have to wear this on the way back up, unless you’re keen on snuggling a carton of milk and whatever the fuck else is in the bag,” he tells me, taking the plastic bag from me, quickly glancing inside.

And he freezes, his shoulders going rigid.

Shit.

When his eyes snap up to mine, they are brimming with rage and I notice his whole face is flushed. He’s practically foaming at the mouth, he’s seething that intensely.

Double shit.

“Condoms and fucking lube? Are you shitting me right now?” His voice is low, full of disdain and venom, and he steps towards me in a predatory stride. “What the actual fuck, River?”