Love in the Night

July 11, 2011
It was a long, dark hallway. Yet she could see everything clearly because of the mirrors surrounding her on every side. Each one reflected back what looked like sections of different movies, caught in rotation every few seconds; one section her adoptive mother, another her biological mother, both lying dead in the tub, wrists slit. Another was the killer of her mother, eyeing her like she was a worthless dog as he yanked off his jeans. The worst was the only one that wasn't replaying every few seconds but continously, the one where he was chasing her down this very hall, this very moment. She screamed but no one was there, she cried but no one cared. Where was he? Where was her savior, her salvation?

Gone, the murderer's voice whispered. Just like your mothers. She wanted to not believe him, but he had already taken so much. So much. Who said he hadn't gotten to Jason?

The half moon was high, the deck of the small boat lit beautifully. The smooth, gentle rocking did nothing to ease the crying young woman on the deck.

As he came up behind her, nearly crying himself because of her pain, Jason Way wasn't sure what to do. Glancing around and blinking rapidly, he remembered how calm she seemed when he had turned the radio on yesterday. He went to the stereo in the dashboard, turning the soft rock on low.

Moving up behind her and kneeling down, he whispered her name. "Baby." Her frantic rocking slowed the tiniest bit, but then sped back up. "Baby, talk to me," he said softly. Her head shook fast. Trying not to scare her, he tugged the hair caught between her face and knees and tucked it behind ears. "Jenny." He leaned forward and pressed his face to her hair, mouth lining up with her ear. He rocked with her for a few minutes as she gradually calmed down.

As her body relaxed he pulled her into him, holding her tightly. "Jason," she whimpered.

"I'm right here, baby, right here." He was crying, he realized. Jason Way, ex- U.S. SEAL was crying because a girl was. No, not just a girl...a woman, his woman. He whispered her name repeatedly as his hand carded through her hair, leaving not a single strand untouched. She looked up at him and he couldn't help himself. She looked too scared, too young, too innocent for the horrors she had seen and known. He kissed her, starting with her forehead. Her temple. Her eyelids. Her nose. Her cheeks. Her chin. Her jaw. His lips hovered over hers, the war within him raging. He didn't want to take advantage of her, at her weakest point no less. He was not that kind of man. But she, so much like it was something she wanted, something she needed.

She exhaled, her lips parting, and he flung himself backwards and scrambled out her reach. "Jason!" she cried.

He forced himself to the edge of the boat, leaning against it and trying to regain control of his breathing. "Jason," she whimpered. She was crying again. Damn it! Could he do anything right with this woman? This woman who needed someone who could care for her, who could make her smile and laugh and dance the way he knew she loved, this woman who he did nothing to deserve, was stuck with him, the low-life that had no family and few emotions. Why? He turned back to her, staring down into the face that was now only inches from his. "If you want to kiss me, you stupid teddy bear, than do it," she ordered. He drew in a deep breath and grabbed her, dragging her mouth to his. He was careful to be gentle, to give her the chance to pull away...even though it would break him.

She didn't, staying glued to him. He was as thorough at exploring her mouth as he was on a surveillance op. His tongue explored every dip and curve, relentless but surprisingly loving.

She pulled away first, gasping for air. He didn't stop, following the line of her throat. She tipped back to give him more access and he greedily accepted. He made his way back up to her mouth and his kissed turned soft, sweet, until he pulled away gingerly.

"I think, baby, that you owe me a dance," he said with a small grin.

"Do I?"

"Mhhhhmm." She tugged him mindlessly out to the middle of the deck while he nibbled on her ear and jaw. She giggled.

"That tickles, Jason." He did it a little harder, careful not to hurt her. She giggled again and pushed at his chest, but he only fit her closer into the hard niche of his body and spun her around suddenly. Laughing, they swirled across the deck, stealing kisses and nips all night.

And in those few hours that would later seem like mere seconds, the nightmares were forgotten, the horrors of life not missed, and the love between them learning new heights.

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Fizza_98 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jul. 19, 2011 at 5:45 am



nicoledente replied...
Jul. 19, 2011 at 10:38 am




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