What the Heart Wants

Further Into the Flames- 9

Clint had known the second Bryan had entered the scene. He could feel the violent and quickly revolving emotions emanating from his current states of disbelief, confusion, even anger. Clint had also assessed that Bryan was no physical threat to himself or Sasha, Clint would never let it come to that… Sasha may not recover from it or forgive it. And he would not risk her for anything, not even his tattered pride.

Between the men, the mission was clear… they both loved this woman. How could they save her from the damage this confrontation would cause? Bryan stood for a long moment, squeezing his eyes shut, battling for another resolution than the evident one.

When he opened his eyes, Clints were closed in silent solidarity, Bryan quietly ducked back out the door, taking a deep bracing breath. Knowing that Clint was preparing a lie on the other side.

Bumping uncharacteristically noisily into the door, then fumbling with the keys in the lock, Bryan made his return known to the quickly composed inhabitants of his apartment. He entered backwards, unwilling yet to openly face a situation he was powerless to change.

“Hey, I did the best I could, its pretty wiped out this time of morning,” he stated finally brave enough to turn & face the room, unsure of what he might encounter.

Sasha’s eyes were bright with excitement, not unshed tears, “Bryan, Clint tells me you’ve met… can you believe it? Of all the places in the world and he ends up right here in our own building no less…” she chattered excitedly. Giving both men a rare glimpse of the pleasant little girl she must have been.

Bryan’s mind wandered all the while she talked, so that was to be the way of it, huh. Pretend as if nothing has happened, that things are unchanged… we are going to play out this macabre guise (charade). No matter the acts, Bryan knew in the finale he would not get the girl.

Although he was a great guy, stand alone, he was no comparison to the man calmly observing the play. Clint was older than Bryan by nearly 20 years. But his confidence was tangible, his intuition razor sharp, his physique tight and toned. The one c***k in his armour that Bryan could identify was his obvious emotional instability in the present situation… his abject devotion to Sasha. The one weapon Clint knew abjectly that Bryan would not use because it would negatively affect Sasha.

Whatever they truly thought of each other, that single unbreakable thread of truth was woven into both of their existences… they both irrevocably loved Sasha.

Her mind was racing, relaying stories from the past, rambling… attempting to leave out any references to intimate information.

Bryan internally fumed while glancing with feigned glee at Clint. This man was what all boys wanted to grow up and be. Hell, all men wanted to be a Clint Westly type of guy. From the gaunt cheek bones, half smirk, hooded eyes, mysterious and quiet demeanor to the defined chest, narrow waist and full lips… this man was intimidating. He was the poster boy for any and all male activity, from Pro football, to firefighter at 6 feet 4 inches tall and 220 pounds of lean sinew and muscle.

Bryan was pissed. He postulated that if they were to excuse themselves, go to the bathroom and compare p*****s… Clints' would be longer, have more girth and curve just the way Sasha would like it, to hit that elusive place that makes her moan (cream).

He couldn’t take this, he could not sit by and pretend that something wasn’t going on when he knew that it was.

Suddenly, he noticed they were both quiet, watching him; anticipating some response.

Had he let his mask of civility slip to reveal the fury he was feeling?

Why didn’t they just bring this out into the open, it was their secret, why was it weighing so heavily on him?

Suddenly, he was exhausted, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth, less his rampaging thoughts should escape unchecked.

“Bryan,“ She prompted cautiously, fearing his response, “Are you alright?”

“Did you hear what I just said,” she squenched her eyes and raised a dark brow.

“Sasha, I don’t think young Bryan here has heard any of your latest confessions luv… why don’t you speak slowly so he can digest what you say.” Clint said, leaning back on the opposite counter and crossing his long legs at the ankle.

“Bryan, I used to be in love with Clint,” she stated, pausing uncertainly under the full weight of his undivided attention. Peering at Clint quickly for encouragement, while pinching her bottom lip between her thumb and pointer.

“Used to… are you really sure?” Clint cut in from his reclining posture with his clinical voice and genuine sincerity, his voice belying the calm presentation of his posture.

“Clint,” she snapped, whirling fully in his direction to shoot a scathing look of warning in his direction to silence him. Raising his hands in response, he swallowed his smirk and quirked an eyebrow for defense in its stead.

“Bryan,“ she verbally implored, beginning to speak with her hands, “ I was in love with Clint a long time ago, you remember I told you about the one who broke my heart, who destroyed me, who I gave my innocence to,” she finished speaking to Bryan, but her eyes were all for Clint.

Bryan could see remorse, anger, impatience in the moss-colored eyes that Clint watched Sasha with; he could almost see the tension in the false posture of calm indifference he presented to the group. This man wasn't nearly as certain as he wanted Bryan to believe, of what might next come out of Sasha's mouth.

Casting her glistening silver eyes to the floor, the rest rushed out, “ And I love him still Bryan, my whole being cries out to him.”

Surprisingly, Clint chose that moment to rise, place a chaste kiss on the crown of her downcast head and proceed to the door. Anyone observing the tense exchange would assume that the devil was satisfied that he’d ruined the lady beyond repair and was now content to leave the chaos he had created.

Sasha knew better. This was a gift. One she was grateful for. A gift she would never be able to repay.

Before quietly closing the door, he intoned for Bryan, “My most heartfelt apology. I have lived what you are about to embark upon… I will pray for you.” Without offering another glance to either occupant, then he softly closed the door that it seemed Bryan had entered an eternity ago.

Bryan had to concede that although he now nursed a deepening and resounding hatred for that man, he still wanted to like him. For all his arrogance, intimidation and bluster, he had been sincere in his condolences without making him feel pitied. He wanted to hate that Son of a b***h; but couldn’t stop himself from musing aloud.

“Sasha, I don’t want to let you go. But I can’t make you stay. And although this hurts me, it won’t kill me. It will change me, maybe scar me… but I will survive it, if it's your wish to go with him.” Bryan finished, astounded that he could say the words above the bile clogging his throat.

“I am going, Bryan. I should never have been here with you. I have always belonged to him. With him.” She said, angry over the years wasted that could not be restored, all of the lost things.

“What of the past? He made that choice all those years ago…what of that?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter. Enough time has been wasted in denial and pride. I won’t wait anymore. Joy. Peace is too precious.” She impassionately finished, rising to follow Clint’s lead.

Bryan let her get all the way to the door before he called her back, “ Sasha, “ he grabbed her hand before she could successfully flee, “ if you leave… you can’t come back. Everything will be finished.” He bowed his head quietly.

Letting go of her arm, he let that statement hang in the air while he quickly made his way to the bedroom… refusing to watch her end things, like he knew she already had.

Beneath all the pain & disbelief, another more vague feeling was beginning to surface… relief. For the last year he had been assailed by the nagging fear that Sasha, while he loved her, was just not the right woman for him. The volatility of their relationship & its often unstable nature were signs that longevity may not be in the cards for the two of them. But he had long ago resolved that it would work and dedicated himself to it because he loved her; and he had believed she’d loved him. And where love is present, all else is secondary, you worked at it until you worked it out.

His German Catholic parents had instilled morals and values like that in him from the time he could lie. He had thought Sasha had the same convictions and standards, but he had been wrong about so much. Did he even want her under such circumstances, knowing that some other man would forever live between them?

What the Hell had just happened?

Had he really lost his future to her past?

Well, he didn't have to just stand around holding is crotch watching them lay waste to his precious plans.

So lost in his thoughts, he hadn't even considered the bigger consequences, the larger implications of the ripple effect.

Bryan grabbed his jacket and headed for the front door. He needed time to decompress. His whole life had changed with a knock at the door.

No…not then, before then. Could he even trace the origin point? Sasha had been distant for so long. Oh hell, he couldn’t ponder that now, he just needed away from this place, as much space from her as possible. From both of them.

He never heard her call his name, as his motorcycle roared in response to the request for speed. Kicking off and slamming on the clutch making his bike growl as he had never allowed himself to do.

“What could you have left to say to him?” Clint asked behind her, both standing in the middle of the busy street.

“He needs to know that it was real. Everything I felt was real, it just wasn’t right. And not even he can deny that.” She huffed disappointedly at losing the opportunity to douse the fresh flames of his anger & disappointment.

Clint clasp her hand and began leading her back to his apartment under the curious gaze of the doorman, visually speculative of the strangers' possessive tugging. Like a truculent child, she continued to drag her feet pouting over the present situation that was well beyond her control.

What exactly had she expected to happen?

How was this melodrama supposed to play out to the satisfaction of all?

Had she really expected them to shake hands and be friends while they traded priority places in her life’s hierarchy?

How selfish can you be Sasha, she admonished herself mentally.

Did she ever intend to end things with Bryan?

Is that why Clint had followed so closely in tow?

No matter the intentions, the mess was made now. The only thing left was to decide is where things went from here. Had she truly made a life decision based on heat & her body’s cravings for a particular man? A man who had broken her, no less.

It didn’t matter, when or where Clint touched her she tingled (suddenly annoyed by the realization), when he spoke she was robbed of her breath, her wits; watching him move she quivered… her whole being was tied to his in some invisible realm where they truly had a melded spirit.

He instinctively knew what she needed. Entering his apartment, his steps never faltered until he reached the bedroom devoid of all but the king-sized sleigh bed she had so recently become very familiar with…. Seeming like decades ago.

As he sat, he pulled her into his embrace, not stopping until he lay cradled around her… just holding her so that she had no choice but to acknowledge he was there. His presence so palpable in each shallow breath she drew, his strong heart beating steadily against her back; the immense warmth he emanated shrouding her in a calming balm. His stillness let her know this encounter would hold no heat of lust, only that shared by mutual body contact. The comfort of combined misery; his in the doubts he could see in her eyes even if she would not give them life or power by voicing them. Hers in the turbulent thoughts that battled just below the surface.

As Sasha at last drifted off into untroubled sleep, Clint understood that he had to give her time to let go before he could have her all to himself. Looking around the empty dark room, he knew that they could not stay in this troubled place, they had to find a place in the world all their own. A place where he could lay claim and possess her, even as she possessed every ounce of his being unknowingly.

If she would only let him lay his heart bare to her, he would make it his life’s work that she would never regret giving him this chance.