Page 2 of Black Waters

Her feminine fingers on my lips stopped me from talking. “No more lies. Okay?”

Constance was a good girl, no matter how much she came off as a stuck-up bitch. I knew this because I caused her rude, crude behavior. I was responsible and had jumped her ass at the movie theater for trying to salvage our relationship and chase away the primary threat. So unfair. So I nodded, promising no more lies. “What do you mean ‘wanted’?”

“For whatever reason, Reether, you and Whit are not together, and after what I saw tonight, you never will be.”

Open wound, insert salt.

She leaned closer with tears brimming. “I should walk away from you, Reether Jones.” She appeared so desperate, my guilt tripled. “But I can’t.” She whispered, “So I’m here to commit a pitiful act.”

Not knowing what direction this conversation was headed, I stayed quiet.

She touched my face, getting even closer to my body. “I need you, Reether. I think I need you like—like you need her.”

And came the fourth level of guilt.

“Close your eyes, Reether.”

I squinted, trying to figure Constance’s meaning.

Her shaking lips tried to smile, but it seemed as if she was scared. “Please.”

I had been indirectly cruel to Connie and felt I should try whatever she needed me to. Slowly, my eyes closed.

“Now… think of her.”

My eyes popped back open. “Connie, what the hell are you—”

“I’m helping us both.”

“How will me thinking of—Connie—where—what are you up to?”

Tears slipped from her hazel eyes. “I want you to want me.”

“I do.” And I did, but—

“Not the way you want her. So let’s find a way for us to have both.”

“Connie—”

“Close your eyes.”

“This is not going to work—”

“Use what is obtainable… like I am.”

“How is me using you while thinking of her acceptable to you?”

“To be completely honest, I don’t know.” Connie words were heart-wrenching. “But I can’t stop hoping for this to somehow make you see I’m here, willing to love you the way you need.” Her tone changed, telling me how serious she was. “Reether, either do what I ask, or shame me into submission, making me leave without another opportunity for you to come as close as you ever will… to her.”

I was stunned for two reasons.

One: Connie’d come up with a somewhat unsavory plan.

Two: I was desperate enough to agree to it.

Constance took my silence as an answer and began to leave my bed. In horror, I watched my hand as it reached out and grabbed hers, begging her not to take Whitney—the false Whitney—with her. Connie squeezed my hand with an expression that said she felt guilty for using my weakness against me, but not guilty enough to not lie back down with me. “Close your eyes.”

With my eyes slammed shut, I breathed rapidly because I was nervous about the questionable line I was about to cross, yet hopeful that this idiotic plan might work.