But he was gone.
Alone in the living room, I no longer felt like that rocket needing the sky. Now, I felt like a bird with injured wings who no longer desired to fly at all. I couldn’t understand how everything had tragically changed in a matter of minutes.
It reminded me of the cold minutes that passed after my mother died. I remember standing there, isolated in loneliness. My mind begged to go blind so that I wouldn’t have to see a world without my mother. Sadly, I continued to see all the things that would remind me of her. Here, I became aware of the black grand piano, waiting for me by the floor to ceiling glass walls. Dare I open a book I had slammed shut so long ago?
Facing Scarlett’s room, I silently begged that I wouldn’t have to. I wished for her to appear and bring me the peace I now realized she offered every time she was around me. Especially in the dark moments.
When Scarlett didn’t appear, I turned to search for my last hope.
Numbly, I faced the other side of the house. There was no Sal waiting for me.
What I saw was a broken TV and the piano I had purposely ignored.
My feet dragged heavily toward the instrument my mother had taught me to play. I believed I was silently calling out to the woman I had lost when I was far too young. My hands opened and closed, hungry to be close to her again, yet terrified, knowing she was nowhere near me now.
The bench creaked as I sat down. I ran my shaking hands over the ivory keys that represented such a special time between mother and son. I stopped breathing as I realized I didn’t want to hurt like that ever again.
Sal and Scarlett.
If I didn’t have the balls to play the fucking piano, how would I ever be man enough to keep them safe?
Again, for those two, I chose to face demons I feared. For the first time in over two decades, my fingers began to move. To create.
I had thought it would be difficult to remember an old melody, but it came to me as gently as a breeze. My mother’s gift started my body swaying. Remarkably, fear drifted away and comfort settled my spirit.
It is truly amazing what happens when you stop being scared. Your sight clears and allows you to witness the miracles that surround you.
Only two feet away stood one of the most powerful gifts my world had ever known.
My eyes met hers. The calm lighting let me see her as a gift from above. Until I noticed his shirt. Another reality slammed into me; I was not upset my clothing wasn’t covering her. I was bothered that it was his clothing, on her.
Unreasonable. I know that now. But… I was lost.
My fingers went still. “Please stop wearing his undershirt.”
My breath caught when she immediately removed it, demanding, “Play.”
This new side of her instantly had my full attention and my compliance.
With curves and slopes of perfection, she was a siren. But it was both her body and her soul that sang to me. Thus, I gave her a melody to intertwine with her dangerous song.
Eyes not leaving this magnificent creature, my siren thanked me by caressing the picturesque instrument with her hands then body. I tried to swallow down desire when she elegantly crawled on top, lying down, looking like a single flower afloat on a reflective black lake.
Sensually, gracefully, those artistic hands moved over her head. When they reached for me, I couldn’t fight my groan and leaned forward so I could feel her gentle touch. Soft fingers caressing my face filled me with such awe, my mouth fell open for a taste.
Breathing heavily, I realized Scarlett wasn’t seeking a kiss, as much as a taste of all she had been missing. She was silently pleading for the experiences for which she had been robbed.
Scarlett wanted me to show her the way.
She whispered my name, “Angel.”
I opened eyes that I hadn’t realized I had closed. I was enraptured by this woman, who I had mistaken for a lost child.
Like a succubus ready to devour the fantastic energy shared between lovers, Scarlett lay on her stomach, cradling my face, begging, “Please… let me taste you.” Her sweet wine-scented exhale brushed across my lips. “It would mean so much to me.”
Plump lips parted slightly, silently promised delicious delirium.
I had to have a taste, too. So, I did.
It was a gentle touch. But it was enough to warn me that if I continued, I might never be the same. My rocket, the one needing skies, roared to life.
“Angel, lick me.”
The keys under my fingers continued to make music as I waved goodbye to caution and welcomed my Soul Keeper. For that is what she was. The siren who captured me whole.
As my tongue reached out to swipe the full luscious lips for which I starved, my rocket lifted from the ground.
When my mouth opened to possess hers, every part of my body ached to move closer to my Soul Keeper. Her touch, her flavor, her fever, were all intoxicating.
With Scarlett moaning in my mouth, my rocket soared through the sky, searching for the air she had stolen from my lungs.
Completely enraptured, I was shocked to hear Sal’s shoes as he walked in, then came to a sudden stop.
Scarlett’s eyes were still closed as I stood. But I didn’t miss her soft words. “You are my wings, Angel.”
Scarlett, may your soul save mine.
My hand reached out to touch her angelic face, but I didn’t.
Was I betraying Scarlett by walking away? No. I was trying to understand exactly where I stood so that, when I took my next steps with her, my feet were steady. They would be what she needed and deserved.
By the time Scarlett opened her eyes, I was in a dark corner watching over her, right next to Sal. We both observed as she solemnly slid off the piano. There was a surrender to her motions as she peered down at the shirt on the floor.
She moved with quiet determination as she stepped over it and walked to the kitchen.
The thing about Scarlett was balance. If you were brave enough to witness it, you would see it. Although she had made up her mind about one thing, she felt her ghosts, too.
My heart cracked when she retrieved her plastic cup from the dishwasher. I had to grab Sal’s arms to restrain him as she filled it with warm faucet water. I knew he wanted to nourish her, but there were more ways than one to nurture. Scarlett and I had discussed Faith. I had to see if she truly believed.
Small miracles…
Scarlett—the victim—set her cup down and grabbed a small plate. Then, shocking the hell out of both of us, she grabbed a knife and cut herself a piece of Sal’s veggie lasagna that had been left on top of the stove.
Sal covered his mouth to stay quiet as she pulled a small fork from the drawer.
It may sound trivial, but she took a bite, feeding herself, all by herself.
When she jolted and peered off to the side—not where we were hiding, Sal and I immediately reached for the guns in our holsters, but stopped when Scarlett took a deep breath and quietly said, “I’m not alone. I’m not alone.”
I had to swallow down emotions, silently telling her, No, baby, you’re not. I’m right here.
After rinsing her dish and leaving it in the sink, Scarlett went to her room, not searching for either of the men in the house who helped her feel safer.
My body sighed. Scarlett was beginning to rely upon herself.
Whispering, Sal said, “She is so brave.”
I could still taste her on my lips. “Yes.”
Silence lingered…