Complicated: A Tainted Love Novella by Ghiselle St. James Read Free Book Online Page B

impossible to tell where I ended and he began. We existed in each other and in that moment we were one. Nothing else mattered. It was just us and the love we still had for each other in spite of all that happened between us.
    I know I drove him to cheat on me. I’d accused him of it so much, picked so many fights with him that he hardly stayed home anymore. I saw when he stopped liking me and I still pushed because every time we broke up we found it hard to stay away from each other. I wanted him to hate me, to leave me, but he’d done me one better. He only cheated on me once; he didn’t have to tell me for me to know that. Marshall was never the cheating type, but it was my excuse to make it final. If we didn’t break up, he would have eventually found out the reason for the drastic change in my mood and I couldn’t afford for that to happen.
    A flush of guilt grips me and I retract my hand as though burned. Everything comes crashing down, the reality of our situation, and the gravity of everything. Delilah is missing, fucking kidnapped, and here we are making house. How stupid are we?
    I slowly get out of bed and look around for my clothes, only to remember that Marshall ripped them all up. The memory makes my core throb, the animalistic pleasure he sated inside of me still growing. Tamping down my rising arousal, I find and drag on my panties, hanging haphazardly off the bedside lamp. I grab a tee shirt from Marshall’s bag and pull it over my head, inhaling deeply.
    I smell like him in every way. My heart does a flip and I pull the shirt up to my nose to get another whiff. It knocks me off-balance, feeling light-headed with the masculine scent of Marshall, and I rest against the dresser to steady myself. Shaking out of it, I slowly make my way to the door and open it, thankful that no one is around to see me do the walk of shame. With one last look at Marshall, I slip out and close the door.
    I turn to make my way back to my room, and I almost expire at seeing Ben at his bedroom door watching me. My stomach drops to the floor and my legs almost give way. This cann ot be happening.
    “Mornin’,” I greet him awkwardly, turning to try and make a mad dash to my room.
    “Oh no, Miss Rachel, you have some explaining to do,” he tuts, gesturing toward his room and waiting for me to turn around.
    Busted.
    Turning, I harrumph and stomp into his room, allowing him to lead me to his balcony to – no doubt – give me the third degree. Inquisitive bastard.
    “So, you and Marshall, huh? What’s going on?” he shoots.
    I sigh, “It’s complicated.”
    Ben’s face takes on a hard edge but then it softens as he watches me silently, leaning against the stone white columns, waiting for me to continue.
    “When we’re together…” I sigh again before continuing, “everything seems so right. We can’t stay away from each other. When we’re apart, that seems right, too; like that’s what’s best for us. We don’t have to think about each other when we’re apart, we just exist outside of each other, but the pull is always there. God, it’s just…complicated.”
    “That word,” he muses. He shakes his head ruefully. “That’s Sullivan’s favorite word to tell me when I’m prying into her life.”
    “She has her reasons for not telling you, Ben,” I say, trying to reassure him.
    I’ve always told her that he needed to know the truth, but Delilah is so fucking stubborn. He deserves to know about her past, about what really causes her to have panic attacks. At the same time, however, I understand her apprehension. It’s the same apprehension I had seven years ago when I found out I was pregnant with Marshall’s baby. The same apprehension I have to this day when faced with telling him what I did about it.
    I rub my tummy, the grief of my loss threatening to overwhelm me. Ben saves my breakdown by speaking.
    “Why does she need to hide anything from me, Rachel?” he questions, anger lacing his words. I