The Kiss That Hurt

My brother found out I'd gotten my tongue pierced. He didn't lose his temper. He simply caught my tongue between his fingers and refused to let me pull it back. "Ryan Bennett, do you really like pain that much?" I stared at him through watery eyes, a twisted sense of pleasure rising inside me. But what he said next turned my blood to ice. "If you like it so much," he said, his eyes frighteningly dark, "how about being my best man when I get married?" Chapter 1 The tongue piercing was my little secret. The metal ball pressed against the roof of my mouth, constantly reminding me it was there. It made me feel alive. Especially whenever I looked at my older brother, Ethan Bennett. I just hadn't expected him to find out so soon. We were having dinner at home when he handed me a glass of water. I reached for it, but he suddenly pulled it away. "What's that shiny thing in your mouth?" My heart nearly stopped. "Nothing." I tried to close my mouth, but it was too late. His expression didn't change, but his eyes turned cold. "Come here." As if under a spell, I obediently walked over. He reached out and gripped my chin. "Stick out your tongue." My tongue obeyed before I could stop myself. The silver stud was right there for him to see. Then his fingers slipped into my mouth. Warm. Slightly calloused. He caught my tongue between them. His grip was firm enough that I couldn't close my mouth. "When did you get this?" he asked quietly. I couldn't answer. Saliva gathered uncontrollably in my mouth and trickled down the corner of my lips. He stared at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Ryan Bennett, do you really like pain that much?" Chapter 2 The tears were an involuntary reaction. I couldn't control them. But the twisted pleasure rising inside me was real, too. Being treated this way by him gave me a sick sense of satisfaction. He suddenly let go. I stumbled backward, grabbing the table as I coughed. "Take it out." He pulled a tissue from the box and wiped his fingers. His tone left no room for argument. "No." I wiped the moisture from my chin. For the first time, I openly defied him. He turned to look at me as though he were seeing me for the first time. "Why?" "Because I like it." I ran my tongue over the sore piercing. "It's my body." He laughed. It was a cold, humorless sound. "Your body?" He walked toward me, one deliberate step at a time. "When you were eighteen and running a fever, who carried you to the emergency room in the middle of the night?" "When you got into a fight at twenty, who came down to the police station to get you out?" "Tell me, Ryan. What exactly have you ever handled on your own?" Every word struck somewhere deep inside me. I had no answer. "Take it out," he repeated before turning toward his office. "No!" I shouted after him, reckless enough now that I didn't care what happened next. He stopped in the doorway. He didn't turn around. Then he said something that froze me to the bone. "If you like it so much," he said, glancing back at me, his profile hard and cold, "how about being my best man when I get married?" Chapter 3 Married? I stood there, stunned. Had I heard him correctly? Who was he marrying? He'd never mentioned anyone. "You're... getting married?" My voice sounded so strained I barely recognized it. "Yeah." His tone was casual. "Next month. Emily Carter." Emily Carter. I knew who she was. She came from a wealthy family with connections to ours. Our father had introduced them. How long had they even known each other? "So," he said, finally turning to face me, "get rid of all that junk you've been putting in your body. I don't want you embarrassing us at the wedding." Junk. That was what he thought of the things I used to cope. Of the feelings I couldn't put into words. Of my desperate attachment to him. I watched him close the office door. All the strength seemed to drain out of me. The tongue stud rubbed against the tender wound, sending tiny jolts of pain through my mouth. But this time, there was no pleasure. Only pain. So this was how he chose to punish me. Not by gripping my tongue and forcing me to obey. But by casually telling me he was going to start a family with someone else. And what about me? His younger brother, the one who wasn't even related to him by blood. The burden he'd taken in all those years ago. Where was I supposed to go? Chapter 4 I didn't take out my tongue piercing. Instead, I got another one. A tiny silver dermal stud, just below my collarbone. My shirt covered it. No one could see it. The pain kept me grounded. It helped me remember the humiliation and jealousy I felt that day. Ethan became busy. There was a wedding to plan, families to meet, and a venue to book. He hardly ever came home for dinner anymore. Even when we happened to cross paths, he acted like I wasn't there. He stopped asking where I'd been or whether I'd put another hole in my body. Until one week before the wedding. I was standing in the living room late that night, drinking water in my pajamas. My collar was a little loose. Ethan had just come home, smelling faintly of alcohol. His gaze swept over my collarbone. Then stopped. "What's that?" His voice was low. I knew he'd seen it. And I was done hiding. "What does it look like? It's new." He strode toward me and yanked my collar aside. The silver stud caught the light. The skin around it was still a little red. "You really are..." He was so furious he actually laughed. "Unbelievable." "I told you. It's my body." It was the same weak protest I'd made before. "Fine." He nodded, his eyes sharp. "Your body." He released me and took out his phone. "Emily? I'm sorry. We need to postpone the wedding." I froze. What was he talking about? "Why?" I faintly heard her ask. Ethan looked straight at me. "My brother's sick. Seriously sick. I need to take care of him." He ended the call. The living room went deathly silent. "Happy now?" he asked. My mind went blank. This wasn't what I'd wanted. Chapter 5 The wedding really was postponed. The atmosphere at home turned icy. Ethan never brought it up again, but he started spending more time in the house. If he was in the living room, I stayed in my bedroom. If he was in his office, I made sure not to disturb him. Then one day, I couldn't find an art book I'd bought a while back. I thought I might have left it in his office. While he was out, I slipped inside to look for it. His desk was immaculate. I opened the bottom drawer and found a velvet box. Something compelled me to open it. There were no wedding rings inside. Instead, I found a collection of every piercing I'd ever taken out. Earrings. Lip rings. Belly-button jewelry. Even my very first tongue stud, the one I'd thought I'd lost years ago. Every piece had been cleaned and carefully arranged in its own little compartment. Each had a label with a date. Like some kind of sick collection. My hands trembled around the box. Why had he kept these? Wasn't he the one who hated seeing me hurt myself? The door opened behind me. I whipped around. Ethan stood in the doorway, staring at the box in my hands. Something complicated flickered across his face. "Ethan..." My voice shook. "What is this?" He didn't answer. He walked over, took the box from my hands, closed it, and returned it to the drawer. Then he seized my wrist. Hard. "Ryan." He leaned so close that his breath brushed my ear. "You have no idea how much self-control it's taken not to lock you away where no one else can touch you." I looked up into his eyes. There was something in them I'd spent years searching for. Something I'd never dared believe was really there. "Then why did you..." Why were you getting married? Why did you keep all those piercings? Why had you let me get away with so much? He didn't let me finish. His mouth came down on mine with a force that left no room for hesitation. My tongue stud struck his teeth, sending a sharp jolt of pain through me. And somehow, it felt like an offering we'd both waited far too long to make. Chapter 6 The kiss tasted of blood. My tongue piercing had cut his lip. He kissed me fiercely, almost brutally, as if he were punishing both of us. Then he suddenly shoved me away. "Get out." He turned his back on me, his voice terribly hoarse. I touched my stinging lips and stared at him. "Ethan..." "I said get out!" I practically fled his office. With my back pressed against the cold door, my heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst. He kissed me. Ethan kissed me. The realization made my whole body shake. Not with disgust. With a wild, overwhelming joy. But a moment later, panic seized me. He regretted it. He'd told me to get out. I didn't sleep that night. At three in the morning, I heard him drive away. The sound of his engine disappeared into the darkness. Chapter 7 He didn't come home for the next several days. I texted him. No reply. I called. He didn't answer. The piercing below my collarbone became inflamed. The skin was swollen, red, and painful. Part of me almost welcomed the discomfort. On the fifth day, he finally came back. He hadn't shaved. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. He carried a bag from the pharmacy. He tossed it onto the couch. "Antibiotic ointment. Put it on." I didn't move. "Where have you been?" He ignored the question and went straight to the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a whiskey and swallowed half of it in one gulp. "The wedding..." My throat tightened. "Is it still postponed?" His fingers tightened around the glass. "No." My heart sank. "Why?" "Because it isn't." He turned to face me, his eyes exhausted but sharp. "Ryan, what happened in my office was a mistake. Forget it." A mistake. The moment I'd treasured more than anything was nothing but a mistake to him. Something he wanted to erase. "A mistake?" I heard myself laugh. "Was keeping all my old piercings a mistake, too? Was kissing me because you couldn't help yourself another mistake?" His face darkened. "Shut up!" "Why should I?" I stepped closer and stared him down. "You did it. Why can't you admit it?" "I said shut up!" His arm jerked upward. The whiskey glass smashed against the floor near my feet. Glass and liquor scattered everywhere. A shard sliced across my ankle. A sharp sting followed. We both froze. Ethan stared at the tiny beads of blood appearing on my skin. His expression changed. It was as though all the strength had suddenly left him. "Ryan..." His voice was so quiet, so fragile, that I barely recognized it. "Please don't push me." The pain in his eyes was real. So real that every accusation I'd been ready to throw at him lodged in my throat. He turned and stumbled upstairs. I'd never seen him look so defeated. Chapter 8 I picked up the broken glass. A sharp edge cut my fingertip. A bead of blood appeared, echoing the sting in my ankle. I secretly kept one of the shards. Like a shameful secret no one was supposed to discover. That night, I took it into the bathroom and locked the door. Hot water ran over my body. The piercing beneath my collarbone still ached. I pressed the glass against the skin beside the old wound. A small sting. Not enough. Not nearly enough. I needed something stronger. Something that could drown out the word he'd left behind. Mistake. As I dragged the glass across my skin, all I could see was the look in his eyes. So much pain. So much struggle. Did that mean he cared about me? Even a little? Blood mingled with the hot water and disappeared down the drain. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. "Ryan Bennett." Ethan's voice came through, unusually tense. "Come out." I quickly turned off the shower. "I'm taking a shower." "I'm counting to three. If you don't open this door, I'm kicking it down." The command in his voice made my heart skip. "One." "Two..." I hurriedly grabbed a bathrobe and wrapped it around myself. The moment I unlocked the door, he shoved it open. His eyes swept over my wet body before stopping on my bleeding arm. His expression turned icy. "What's in your hand?" He stared at my clenched right fist. I tried to hide it. Too late. He seized my wrist with frightening force and pried my fingers open. The bloodstained piece of glass fell to the tile. It landed with a sharp little clink.