Sparrow

by L.J. Shen

The sparrow is associated with freedom. At one time, sailors got a tattoo of a sparrow for every five thousand nautical miles they traveled. Sparrows were believed to bring good luck. Sometimes the sailor got his sparrow tattoo even before leaving the docks, hoping it would act as a talisman and help bring him safely home again.

“Dear future wife…” He smirked in a way that made me want to beg for mercy. “If you think you’re going to give me trouble, think again. I invented trouble. I stir it, I mix it, I fucking fix it. Don’t try my patience, because you’ll discover I have absolutely none.”

“Good girl. Now let’s shake some hands, kiss some babies and get back to the limo. I have a surprise for you.”

“But I like your fight,” he said softly through our make-believe joy as we made our way, arms linked, like the two happy lovers that we weren’t. “Can’t wait for you to show me some of it in my bed.”

Fear is a prison, and in prison you played by different rules to survive.

“Love and hate are similar in a lot of ways.” “Is there a way to love you away from me?” I snapped. “No, but you could hate-fuck me all you want.”

Guilt was a thief. It would steal your mind, mess with your priorities and would eventually steer you from your original plan.

I wanted to snap that little spine of hers. Have her begging. Leave her wanting and lusting. Wanted to prove to her that she wanted me no less than I wanted her.

Troy Brennan was the devil, but sometimes, even good girls wanted a healthy dose of evil in their lives.

I was getting too old for this shit, and frankly, the only woman I was vaguely interested in screwing right now hated my guts and happened to be my wife.

Then again, pretty much every fucking other thing in the world reminded me of my wife nowadays.

She was stirring some very fucking strange shit in me—shit I wasn’t prepared to deal with.

“I never cheated on you, because we were never really together. You know that and I know that. If we ever were together, I wouldn’t even look at another woman.” “But we’re not,” I hissed into his face, just like he loved doing to me. “So I’m sure you had fun.” “I wasn’t with anyone else last night. It was work.”

“I’m the asshole who is on your mind twenty-four-fucking-seven. And I’m telling you now, if Brock has it in his head that he can take you too, he has another thing coming. You’re mine, got it?”

“I’m not my father, and I sure don’t intend to comfortably fit into the tidy, screwed-up box you created for me. You want me to stay away from Brock? You do the same with other women. You mess around with me, and me only.”

“I’m fucking your life up, and you’re still trying to claw your way out of the quicksand. It’s hard not to admire that.”

“Your virginity, Red.” “Take it.” I leaned into his touch, pressing my head against his hard abs. “’Cause that’s all I’m going to give to you.” I was a liar. I was reckless. I was an idiot. But I was his.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a while now,” he said. He likes me, my heart chanted. He likes me and he is going to show me just how much.

“I wanted you since that night at Rouge Bis, you know.”

God, I wanted more of him. Not just his body, just more. More feelings. More sex. More everything. I wanted him to be my real husband, and I was lying to him, myself and the world when I said that all I wanted was sex. This was just the tip of the iceberg. I was addicted.

“Breathe, baby,” he said seriously. “The pain will go away, but the pleasure will stay. I got you, Red.”

We lay there in silence while he drew letters and patterns on my skin with his finger. He wrote “God” and then “Troy” and then “Red.” Drew a house, raindrops and a pair of wings. We weren’t kidding anyone. This was not just sex. It was more and it was scary.

“Thought I was supposed to be a lovebird from now on?” I turned my back to him, already making my way out of the room. I heard his laugh, and my heart twisted in anticipation and sadness. “I changed my mind.” His voice had a hard edge. “I’m not letting you fly away. Ever.”

“You told him to fire Connor and he did. You told him to quit fucking around and it looks like he did that too. I think it might come as shocking news to you, but honey, your husband has feelings for you.”

Lucy

I didn’t hate my husband, but somehow, I was horrified by the concept of admitting it aloud.

Troy was as comfortable in his sea of lies as a synchronized swimmer in an Olympic swimming pool. I was the one who was drowning in them. Worst of all? I was feeding myself even more lies. Because I told myself I didn’t care. While slowly, he crept under my skin. Piercing through layers. Clawing his way deeper into me. And I knew it was only a matter of time before he reached the most dangerous place in my body. My heart.

Was I pussy-whipped? Yeah. Literally. Spending time inside my wife had become my favorite hobby. I had finally found my weakness, and sure enough, it was between Red’s legs. That’s where I wanted to live, and that’s where I wouldn’t mind dying. But it wasn’t just that. The thought of spending time with that little smart mouth tonight made me feel weird. Not exactly happy, but oddly excited. I hated liking her.

Yeah. Red either ignored my flashy gifts like they were contaminated, filthy, unworthy, or worse, tucked them under her slim arm and gave them all to charity. I wanted to kill and kiss the shit out of her in the same breath. It pissed me off and delighted me all at the same time.

For the first time in my life, sex was not about me, it was about her.

For now, she was here. With me. I intended to keep it that way.

It saddened me that I put up with my husband’s secrets. Saddened me because I was no longer able to deny the truth. I was desperately in love with my husband. Every day he took up more space in my heart. With every moment, it became a bit more difficult to breathe when he wasn’t around. My love for Troy Brennan wasn’t romantic or sweet—it was violent and needy.

“Is it possible to feel your heart breaking, even when you’re falling in love?”

My monster, my capturer, my corrupter. My lover.

He was a monster, but he was my monster.

“She said the rumor is you like it kinky.”

“I like it interesting…”

“I like it delicious…”

“I like it rough…”

“But most of all, I like it with you…”

“You don’t have to be so anti-love. You can learn a thing or two from rom-coms,” I said. “I’m not anti-love.” He dove down to kiss my lips, his hot tongue flicking my lower lip sensually. “I’m anti-bullshit.

He gave me lies, and I ate them from the palm of his hand. He gave me lies, and for him, I closed my eyes.

And it was also the moment I knew that I would burn down the city and stop at nothing to find my wife. Not because she was mine, I never believed that for a second, anyway. Because I was so busy telling Sparrow how much she wanted me, I forgot a small little detail—I wanted her back. More.

felt the walls of the hallway closing in, suffocating the shit out of me. I couldn’t lose her. Wouldn’t lose her. Red was the one thing I wouldn’t let anyone take away from me.

She had shit load of tubes in her wrists, and her leg was in a cast. And she was still nothing short of divine. My girl, my lovebird. The prettiest. Not because she had the pinkest lips or the greenest eyes, but because she was made for me. Tailor-made to make me laugh, to piss me off, to make me lose my shit. Hell, to make me feel.

She was my beauty, and I was her beast. But this was not a Disney flick. In real life, the beast goes back to his solitary life, a freak who lurks in the shadows and watches as his girl runs away back to the arms of her family. She was my only shot at a semblance of normalcy and happiness, and I had to let her go.

Then I remembered nothing was fun anymore. Nothing was worth doing when Red wasn’t around. The only thing I wanted to do, and couldn’t, sadly was her.

He. Was. A. Monster. And yet, I’d give anything to have this monster’s claws back on my body, his cold eyes roaming my face. I missed the talks, the banter and everything this monster made me feel. Troy was the devil, but he breathed life into me.

“What if it’s not Stockholm syndrome, Lucy? What if it’s the real deal?” “Then, my darling,” she said, speaking patiently, “destiny will find a way to get you two back together. Real love doesn’t disappear. It can turn into hate, and hate can turn into love, but those feelings won’t ever turn into indifference.”

Lucy

Troy: I wanted to do the right thing. I really fucking did. But then it dawned on me that in order to do a good thing, you have to be a good person. I’m not good, and we both know that. I watched you over the past few months. Trying to tell myself that I was only looking out for you, making sure you’re okay. Bullshit. I knew you’d be okay the moment Brock was out of the picture. I watched you because I wanted you for myself, because you belong with me.

Troy: I changed my mind. You’re not free. Not if you’re flying away with nowhere to go, and for all the wrong reasons. What do you really want? Don’t answer that. I’m about to find out. I’m waiting in line to see how you react when you see me again. Because Red, if you were so hot on getting rid of my ass, you wouldn’t be postponing the divorce, knowing how much money’s waiting for you. You wouldn’t have kept my secrets to yourself. So what’s it going to be? Am I going to see fear and loathing behind those greens, or want and need? Are you going to level with me? Fight back? Throw me away? It’s about to go down in 3…2…1…