Mind to Bend: Chapter 13

Technicolor lights flash overhead while the bass blasts through the industrial warehouse on the outskirts of town. I’ve never been in a place like this, nor have I ever wanted to be, and I can’t remember how Shane conned me into this. The memory of his voice is still clear, and how I felt while it wrapped around me, but what thought process led me to agree was a complete mystery.

People stick to one another in an uncomfortable cluster on the dancefloor. It must be intentional, seeing as how most of them are grinding on one another and appear to be having the time of their lives. To me, it looks terrifying and sweaty. Shane leads me along the perimeter, deeper into the warehouse, and toward the bar.

The air is thicker back here, with less oxygen because of these bodies eating it up. Is there ventilation in here? Unable to breathe, we pause as the crowd grows too thick to pass. Shane trails his fingers along my arm, distracting me from my panic and commanding my attention. I look over and catch the way the red flashing lights play with his blue eyes.

Purple, mystery, I need to taste him.

I don’t know what it is about this place, but even with all these people, it feels intimate. Aware of every inch of him, I have to look away before the intensity between us draws my lips any closer to his.

He turns me toward the dance floor and presses my back to his front, his arms snaking around to hold me tight. Before I can question his actions, his lips are at my ear.

“What do you think, Angel?”

The pet name wraps around me and spreads warmth through to my bones. It doesn’t matter that my father called me the same, I like it on Shane’s lips. I realize with an uncomfortable squirm that it’s wrong for him to call me the same nickname my dad did. And beyond question, it is immoral that I’m turned on by that.

“Seraphina,” he murmurs, reminding me he asked me a question.

In front of us, a pretty young woman with complicated braids and a sequin top dances with one of her friends. I’m fascinated by the sensual rhythm of their bodies and how happy and free they look. At least, I think they’re friends until the girl with the braids steps into the other woman, pretty brown fingers tangling in a crush of blonde curls. She pulls the woman roughly into her and catches her lips in a deep kiss, and of course, every inch of me tenses.

My skin prickles, making me all hot and oversensitive. My nipples scrape my bra, and I twitch at the sensation. I look around, afraid. Afraid because I’m turned on by watching them. What if someone saw that? But no one is paying me any attention besides Shane.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

“Loosen up,” I flinch at his breath sweeping across my overheated neck. “Sometimes people are nice to look at, Seraphina. It doesn’t have to be earth-shattering. Nothing you like needs to be a big deal.”

His hand drifts over my shoulder, the touch isn’t suggestive, somewhat comforting, but it sets me on fire as much as the slide of those tongues.

When I don’t calm down, he pushes me past them with a hand at the small of my back. My overstimulated mind imagines him spinning me around and pushing my hips onto his with his hand on that same spot. His touch feels protective more than anything else, and I shake off the dirty images. Of course he’s only pushing me forward to keep me from making a scene. I can’t imagine what those girls would have thought if they had caught me staring.

I turn and put up my hands to stop him when I see he’s leading me toward an opening on the dancefloor. “This was fun!” I shout. “But I think I should go home now.”

I force a smile, and the music swallows up his laugh.

“I’m thoroughly unconvinced. You’re scared!”

I shake my head, but words fail me. I am scared and so incredibly far outside my comfort zone.

“Not tonight, Angel.”

There’s that name again, and I’m buzzing. Have I grown wings? Because I could fly away. I miss the rest of what he said until he grabs my hand and drags me the rest of the way.

“What are you doing!” I shriek loud enough that he manages to hear me over the music.

He turns, pulling me into his arms as tightly as he did on our first meeting, and presses our bodies together. His lips find my ear, and he says, “Teaching you how to have fun.”

“I can’t do this!” I scream at the top of my lungs and feel his smile against my cheek rather than see it.

“Yes, you can.”

His hands move to my hips. He’s warm and muscular, hard along his entire body. The smell of man and high-end cologne crashes over me, and my system flies into overdrive. His presence affects me so intensely I forget to fight. Then, he’s leading, moving us both to the beat, and we’re dancing.

“You can dance?” I ask stupidly, the evidence right in front of me rolling against my hips. His eyes meet mine, and I feel something harder than a second before. Does he want me the same way I want him? My rational brain disconnects, leaving space for someone a little more reckless. Maybe someone fun.

My arms find his shoulders first, then his neck. Before I know it, I’m pressed so tightly against him that I can’t even begin to imagine getting myself unstuck. He’s leading me, teaching me how to move my body to the swells and crashes of the music. My face stays tucked into the crook of his neck. I’ve never listened to music this loud, never even heard most of these songs. There are people moving and grinding everywhere.

It only takes a few songs to forget everything but the music, the heat of the flashing lights, and the pulsing of electricity on the spots our bodies touch. I’m dying to kiss him, press our lips together and taste him, and whereas he’s not discouraging me, he’s not encouraging me either. For all I know, he could just be dancing with me, pretending this is the most fun he’s ever had. Still, every moment of attention he pays me is worth it.

I’ve never had someone look at me like this, never felt like anything more than a burden or tool, but right now, I feel like freedom and happiness. I could explode from the newness, and I’m starved for more.

Before I can make a decision that either or both of us might regret, the music dips, and Shane peels his body away from mine. I frown, but he laughs at the expression.

“I’m going to get us drinks, and you’re going to dance to the next song by yourself.”

“Why?” I shout back just as the opening bass line picks up. Cold without him against me, it’s harder to find the beat.

“Because you never have, and I want to watch you.”

I’m still as I watch him approach the bar and order. My hips can’t seem to sway without him there to push me. My feet grow roots and plant themselves. When his eyes find me, he acknowledges me with a side nod and raises one brow as if to say what are you waiting for?

I stay stock-still for two seconds longer, but the fear of his disapproval has me moving. I’m awkward, so much more than when it was the two of us. I sway slightly, scared and self-conscious. Looking back at him, there is a similar something in his eyes to the day I watched him come in his office. The desire to see that again is overwhelming.

I close my eyes and let the music in, much like I did with him. I try my best to sway, but I may as well be a board. It only lasts a minute before someone taps me on the shoulder. I open my eyes to find a group of girls, including the two who were kissing when we came in. The blonde is the one who tapped me.

“He said you need girlfriends!” she shouts, pointing to the bar where Shane is watching in amusement.

“I, uh,” I don’t finish the thought as she wraps an arm around me and pulls me into the group.

“Come on! I’m Sophia, and this is Ava.” She points to the pretty woman I watched her kiss. “That’s Kat, Kelly, and Faedra.”

Each of the girls offers me a wave.

“Let’s dance!” someone shouts.

Before I know it, I’m completely wrapped up in dancing with them and having the best time. Instead of pushing me, Shane watches me from the bar as I spend my first-ever girls’ night dancing and carrying on with the world’s most supportive people: unknown drunk girls at the club.

They are wasted. So much so that I’m sure they’ll never remember me in the morning, though I will never forget them. I’m grateful for every giggle and sway. It’s not until Shane puts my address into the GPS that the freedom and joy are replaced by crushing sadness.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he pulls onto my street.

“Nothing. That was the best night of my life.” I don’t just sound sad, I realize, but angry too.

“Why are you so upset about that?” He knows why, but he wants to make me acknowledge it.

“I’m married, Shane. One night dancing with my psychiatrist and a handful of strangers shouldn’t have felt that good.”

“But it did?” he asks me, and once again, I love and hate the direct way he guides me to the point of the issue.

“You know it did.”

“Seraphina, if there’s anything I’ve learned about you in the short time we’ve known each other, it’s how incredibly small your world is. This was nothing. What you experienced today isn’t one shred of the joy and excitement you should know. I need you to think long and hard about the type of life you want to lead and how you plan to get it.”

I want to be hurt by his words, but part of me understands what he’s saying all too well.

He can give me all of that and more.

“Come see me tomorrow. We’ll have your next lesson in enjoying life.”

His smile is small but smug. He knows I can’t resist anything he offers me. The only thing I was still strong enough to resist was crossing the boundaries of our physical relationship. Although his not pressing me for it only made me want him more.

I agree to come and see him as I step out of the car. I shut the door behind me, but I hear the window roll down.

“Two o’clock,” he calls after me.

“Whenever you say,” I answer, not realizing how true that statement is and how far it extends. Whenever, whatever, I’m not sure I can tell him no.

I look back as I walk up to the door. Shane is watching me but pulls away as I unlock and open the door. I assume he’s trying to help me avoid an uncomfortable conversation, but my heart twinges with rejection. I step into the house, ignoring Tim sitting on the couch.

“Where were you?!” he shouts, lunging to his feet.

“Dancing. Are you going to choke me for it?” I spit back. If he’s going to hurt me again then so be it. But he’s injured and slow, and I’m not afraid like last time.

Tim’s jaw hangs open and I walk away, leaving him standing there. I close my bedroom door behind me and lock it. I’m not waking up next to him again, and if he wants to get to me, he’s going to have to break it down.