Page 5 of The Death of Kisses

My body betrayed me, acting on instinct before I could even stop it. My lips barely pressed to his in a fragile, tentative kiss that sent my dizzy, spinning mind into a chaotic storm. When I dared to try to pull back, his hands gripped the back of my head, holding me captive and pulling me into a deeper, more desperate kiss that ignited a fire I had never known before. Clinging to him, I leaned in, desperately craving more. The sensation of his lips crushed against mine ignited a blaze of heat that consumed me from within. It was as if I were drowning in an ocean of emotion, lost in the darkness—and yet, he was the only thing capable of pulling me back to the surface, the only hope I had left in that moment of vulnerability and longing.

My hands trembling, I dared to explore his chest, a longing I had only dared to dream of bursting to life in that fleeting moment. He slammed me against the cold counter, pressing me into the unforgiving surface, lifting me so I sat on the edge, heart pounding wildly in my chest. The fire between us blazed brighter than ever, an unquenchable inferno that refused to be tamed. His hands hesitated just a moment, fumbling with the edge of my shirt, as if craving to touch me but caught in the grip of doubt. I pressed my lips to his, biting softly, silently pleading for what I needed, nodding in raw agreement. In that instant, he ripped my wet shirt over my head with a desperate hunger that matched my own.

The Callahan slogan, discarded on the floor, fell away as his palm cupped my breast, sending a jolt through every fiber of my being.

“God, you’re so beautifully innocent,” he whispered, voice thick with longing. “I just want to consume you.” His hips pressed into mine, a powerful sound of desire escaping him as his body responded in kind—the unmistakable evidence of his arousal making itself painfully, undeniably clear.

“Wait,” I gasped, pulling my lips free from his, a flood of conflicting emotions rushing through me. He paused, worry flickering across his face for that briefest of moments, then silently nodded.

“I’ll wait forever for you, Lillian Wyatt,” he vowed passionately, “just say the word.” His voice was a promise, a declaration that felt like both an oath and a battle cry, and something within me shattered wide open. As he stepped back, his fingertips gently traced my cheek, tender and reverent, as if memorizing every ounce of my vulnerability.

Slipping off the counter, I gasped, my breath caught in my throat. My mind was a whirlwind of chaotic, desperate thoughts—too many to find comfort in any clarity. I needed to understand, to be sure of what I wanted, before diving headlong into the unknown.

“Here,” Lee said softly, slipping a clean T-shirt over my trembling body, his touch soothing yet possessive, guiding me gently back to bed.

He didn’t leave my side once I was settled, his presence a steady, protective force—a guardian holding space for my tumult of emotions. He stroked my hair gently, a silent vow of devotion as I drifted into a restless, wrenching sleep, my heart pounding with love and fear intertwined.

3

THERAPY MIGHT SUCK BUT SCHOOL WOULD BE INTERESTING

Present day - October 15 - Town of PineRidge - Population 5025 - 18 yr old

“Charlotte, are you with me?” Dr. Jacobs looked at me with a kind face, the trusting face of a therapist. I just sighed.

“Charlie. It’s Charlie now.” I flipped the lid of the Zippo, a calming gesture I had taken in her absence. There was only so much of these court-mandated therapy sessions I could take before I lost my shit. It was easier now that numbness settled over my bones. The law was clear in it being manslaughter. The bullet through his forehead wasn’t enough to claim it was an accident. Instead, it was an imperfect defense. Of course it happening a month before my eighteenth birthday was icing on the cake. Mr. Wyatt deserved to die. I felt no remorse. Insanity. That’s what my lawyer claimed. I was defending my best friend. Everyone knew Mr. Wyatt’s reputation for beating his wife. The accident wasn’t anything different. They had told me what to say and how to say it. I complied because it was in the family’s best interests. The best lawyers money could buy. I rolled my eyes, waiting for Dr. Jacobs to continue.

“Right, sorry Charlie. You are in these sessions because of the trauma you experienced. No one blames you for it, Lillian⁠—”

“You know Doctor, I appreciate the candor, it’s not lost on me but if I don’t leave now I’ll be late for class. You know, new school and all.”

“Of course Charlie, we will pick this up Thursday.”

“Yeah whatever.”

I walked out of the shrink’s office, down the steps, and across the lawn. The cigarette was between my lips before I had a second thought. It was a bad habit; my brother wouldn’t have liked it, and that made me smile. The shops had begun opening for the day as I strolled down Main Street. Pine Ridge was bigger than Coldwater, better for business dad said but it was really just a reason to ship Lee and I off to this bumfuck place. He was disappointed in me, and honestly I couldn’t give a fuck. I made it to the gym, I snuffed the cigarette out on my boot, pulling open the doors.

“Yo Charlie, where ya been?” One of the gym bros called, and I flipped him off.

“Where’s my brother? I need a ride.” I deadpanned.

He flung his head towards the back as he set his weights down, and I shoved past the bodyguards. The gym was new, a place to launder money. There was never a short supply of shady people who worked in these places, of course not just anyone would know that. Callahan money talked the right way. Whispered to the right people, we could run for office and no one would doubt our good intentions. Old money, even older connections. Dad said it was the iron claw mafia that gave us the power, that no one bothered with the southern states since we weren’t big enough to play. I didn't particularly care. It was never my job to care, that’s Lee’s birthright not mine.

Walking down the hall I shoved open the office door.

“What can I do for my baby sister?” He laughed as all the men around the table halted their conversations and looked at me.

“I need a ride dickhead. So cough up your keys or take me.”

“I’ll give you a ride sweetheart.” One of the men joked, grabbing his junk. I moved fast. A sly smile on my face was the only emotion as the tip of my pocket knife aimed at his balls.

“Listen here you piece of shit, you work for my family. Show me some god damn respect or I will gut you. Starting with your swimmers.” I spat.

“Always lovely to have you Charlie. Please put him down. This is a respectable establishment.” Lee tutted. I removed my hand from the new dude’s balls, folding the knife back into place.

Lee had been different since we left Coldwater, and well since her. I didn’t blame him or maybe I did but the whole family thing kept us in a constant loop about it. Neither of us would talk about her and that was for the best.

“You should tell your men I’m jail bait instead of letting pedos into our business,” I hissed in his ear as I made my way around his chair grabbing the black jacket across the back. He made a face of disgust and I could feel the rage coiled beneath the surface. He’d probably have the guy beaten half to death if he didn’t do it himself. Serves him right.