Arranged Marriage to My Enemy? Holy Shit!

I really, really, really, needed Ricky to get away from me. Like, right now. His face was so close to mine that I could taste his scented breath. It made my head dizzy. It made the locked box inside of me thump like a humming bird's wings. Maybe Ricky had been right in his assumption; I was close to breaking and going back to him. But I still had the will to resist.

Instead of moving away, like I thought he would after I'd told him I would have killed Jack a long time ago if I'd known he was messing with a girl I was in love with, he'd only moved closer. His mouth was buried in my neck, his lips lightly pressing on a muscle that tended to spazz out whenever I was under extreme stress. And guess what;

The muscle was on a bad case of tourettes as of recently. It just kept going crazy, popping, pulsing, waving, jumping, dancing, whatever, it just wouldn't keep the fuck still. No matter what I said to myself mentally to make sure I still had my sanity left, the vein and the box kept telling me differently. It kept telling me the one thing I was trying to prevent.

I fidgeted under Ricky's lips, trying to get away, but he only pressed us closer, pressed his lips harder against the sensitive muscle in my neck. He had me locked in to place. His hands rested on my hips while my hands hung uselessly on my sides. If his lips or close proximity didn't make me lose what left of my sanity, the fact that I couldn't do a damn thing would. I felt so....vulnerable. And I hated it. I absolutely hated it. I've never in my life felt as vulnerable as I do now.

There was nothing I could do to lessen the severity of the situation at hand.

Wait, wait, wait. I mentally thumped my hand to my head. Why was I getting so discouraged? Back in the day, I'd had control over Ricky. As much as he likes to think that he bossed me around, we had bossed each other around. There was no way in hell that he didn't know what he was doing to me. But if I made it look like he was hurting me, he'd immediately stop. That was one thing Ricky didn't like doing, and that was causing me unnecessary harm.

I prepared my voice to sound helpless and hurt, before I continued on with groaning, "Please, Ricky, stop. I-I can't take this anymore." Inside, I didn't' really feel like the voice was prepared. It felt real. And that bothered me. The feelings Ricky was bringing out in me were foreign, even from six years ago. Six years ago, Ricky hadn't been able to get me so...aroused. Was it because I was older and more experienced? Yes, I concluded, that was the reason.

On point, Ricky pulled back his head to look at me. Now that his mouth was off of my neck, I was able to control my body, or at least parts of it. I raised my arms and put them on his shoulders as an attempt to tell him to back off. My eyes stayed on the ground as I felt his gaze stare beams in to the side of my head. He stepped back a little, giving us about five inches apart, but he didn't take his hands from my hips.

He sighed, and leaned his head down on my shoulder. "I wish that you would have run off like I told you to when that cop confronted us. You wouldn't have run away if K12 had been able to persuade you otherwise. You would have took the position of leader and done what was necessary, all the while coming to visit me in jail and await my release. When I got out, I'd train someone to take care of K12 on their own. We'd leave, maybe live on some tropical island, and be happy. That's what you wanted."

"Storm, you've always wanted to travel the world. I'd buy us a permanent residence on a tropical island, then we'd satiate your thirst for traveling by exploring the world and its untold riches. Eventually, we would settle down in a nice little cottage in the woods in a small town, have a kid or two, and die happy. Doesn't that sound good to you too, Storm?"

I could barely breath. Damn, bastard, that Ricky was. He'd obliged to remove his lips from my neck, but he'd played a nasty trick on me. Ricky had laid out the future I'd told him six years ago, right before we'd gotten in to that altercation with the police. He knew how much I wanted to do those things. Just because my dreams now did not include him, doesn't mean they changed entirely. He was willing to bet that, willing to risk everything on that.

Frankly, I wanted to rip my ears off so I didn't have to hear him throw me more of the shit that would end of roping me in. I wanted to push him away from me and run away in the other direction, away from the perfection that stood in front of me. Had Ricky really taken me seriously about my dreams? And not only that, but was he willing to give all of what he had away for a girl that had betrayed him so harshly? Was torturing me this way part of his plan to get back at me? If it was, it was working too good.

Internally, I sighed. I could stand here, and Ricky and I could play games like this all day, and it would get us absolutely nowhere. Some how, some way, I'm going to have to combine my old life with my new life in order for me to shimmy my way out of this unfortunate turn of events. My old memories, my old life, was going to have to clash with my new ones. It wouldn't be an easy task, but I was up for the challenge. I needed to find the easy medium between good and evil. Right and wrong. Left and right. Ricky and Jack.

I closed my eyes and sighed, leaning my head back against the tree. In order for my to combine both halves of my life, I'm going to have to open...the box I'd locked inside of myself long ago. Only if I faced those memories, would I be able to free myself of the temptation Ricky posed, and from the unmistakable yearning I had to just let go and go crazy.

Oh yeah, what I was about to do was most likely going to fuck with me. But, it was necessary. Even if I didn't do it now, I'd have to do it in the future. Putting it off wouldn't help me, it would only hinder what little I could already do. I dug deep inside myself and visualized the box. It had chains wrapped around it, with knives sticking out of it, lip stick smeared on the pad lock and sticky notes plastered everywhere.

Even I didn't understand why the box presented itself like that to me. Maybe it was some sort of subconscious thing, but I doubted it. Most likely my brain just loved to play tricks with my heart. That's often where I went wrong. Instead of using my heart to do what felt right, I often ruled that out of the picture and thought logically through the event. But even so, I couldn't just rely on either one.

I needed to use both together.