Infinitely
By Cheryl McIntyre
Infinitely
Cheryl McIntyre
Copyright Cheryl McIntyre 2014
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without prior written permission by the author except where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real persons, events, or places are used fictitiously. The characters are the work of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to persons living or deceased, events, or locales are coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademark status, as well as ownership of products referred to in this work of fiction. The uses of these trademarks have not been authorized, nor are they associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Cover photo by Andrei Vishnykov
Cover design by Richard Luciano
Edited by Dawn McIntyre Decker
Table of Contents
Prologue
1 Briar
2 Benji
3 Briar
4 Benji
5 Briar
6 Benji
7 Briar
8 Benji
9 Briar
10 Benji
11 Briar
12 Benji
13 Briar
14 Benji
15 Briar
16 Benji
17 Briar
18 Benji
19 Briar
20 Benji
21 Briar
22 Benji
23 Briar
24 Benji
25 Briar
26 Benji
27 Briar
28 Benji
29 Briar
30 Benji
31 Briar
32 Benji
33 Briar
34 Benji
35 Briar
36 Benji
37 Briar
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Other books by Cheryl
Prologue
Benji
The only thing I can think is: What if I never see her again?
What if I never get to look into her warm green eyes and see how much she cares for me? Never run my fingers through her silky hair or feel it draped across my chest. Never kiss her mouth and relish her lingering taste on my lips.
I cup her face in my hands, trying to memorize exactly how her skin feels against mine. I close my eyes, locking it all away as I lean in and press my lips one last time to her forehead. I inhale deeply not knowing how long it’ll be until I can breathe her scent again. I wish I could hold it in my lungs forever. But I can’t. I pull back, turning away quickly. I can’t look at the expression on her face because I know it’ll mirror mine. I can’t…I can’t see her as destroyed as I am.
“Benji, wait,” she calls. My feet immediately obey, halting abruptly.
I turn back in time to catch her as she throws herself into my arms, her legs wrapping securely around my waist. Our bodies fit together like they were made for one another.
“I love you Benjamin Borelli,” she murmurs. “And I always will. Even when my heart no longer beats, it will still be filled with love for you.”
I believe every single word she says because I feel the same about her. What we have is once in a lifetime. It’ll never fade. Never die. It’s forever. And I know I have to keep my promise. I will come back and hold her in my arms again.
She traces the symbol for infinity over my heart. “Yours for eternity,” she adds, before sliding down the length of my body. As I watch her retreating form, I place my palm over my chest and repeat her words.
“Yours for eternity.”
1
Briar
On my eighth birthday, Benjamin Borelli went missing for nearly two hours. And though it had only been two hours, the wait for him to come home was excruciating.
His mother hadn’t realized he was gone until I sent my dad for him. I refused to blow out the candles on my cake without him. Who knows how long it would’ve taken her otherwise? I remember the look on Dad’s face when he came back empty handed.
The candles had melted all over the icing and were winking out, one at a time. Daddy couldn’t seem to look at me. He pulled Mommy to the side of the room and whispered in her ear. Her hand went to her mouth and her eyes met mine. It was the first time I had seen my mom scared, which scared me.
“Where’s Benji?” I asked as I hopped down from the table.
Daddy looked at Mommy with a tortured expression. It made my heart beat fast and my palms go sweaty.
“We don’t know, Briar. His mommy is looking for him,” Mom said. Her voice was quiet and she talked slower than usual. “You don’t know where he might have gone, do you?”
“Is he in the tree house?”
Daddy shook his head. “No, honey, I already looked.”
I peered out the window at the small house next door and squinted up to Benji’s bedroom, directly across from mine. I noticed a piece of paper attached to the clothesline we used to send each other secret messages. The wind was threatening to rip it from the clothespin before I had a chance to read it. I ran upstairs as fast as my legs could carry me. Throwing the window open, I worked hand over hand, yanking the pulley system Benji had installed. Once the paper was close enough, I snatched it from the clip and dropped down below the window to read it.
His writing was small and precise. I might be late, but don’t worry, I won’t miss your birthday. –B. I folded the paper in my hand and held it to my chest. He was fine. Maybe he went to the store to get me a present. That must be what he was up to.
I stopped outside of the dining room when I heard hushed voices. “I don’t know what she’ll do if something happened to him,” Mommy whispered.
They were quiet for a long time. I counted my heartbeats. When I reached ten, I was about to go in. Then Mom added, “He’s her best friend, Corbin.”
“I know,” he rasped.
Mommy sighed and began crying softly. “It’ll be all right, Pine. I’m sure he’s fine.”
I leaned against the wall separating me from my mom and listened to her cry. I wanted to tell her it really was all right. That Benji was probably at the store, but my stomach hurt and my face felt hot. What if I was wrong? What if Benji wasn’t okay?
I peeked around the corner and Daddy smiled weakly at me. “Hey kid. Come here.” He opened his arms and I ran to him. He put me on his lap and I buried my face in his chest. His cologne was strong there, but comforting, familiar. I decided I wouldn’t move until Benji came home. It was my penance, suffocating in Old Spice. I twisted my fingers into Daddy’s dark hair, a soothing habit, and chewed on the collar of my dress.
Mommy moved from the living room to the kitchen, back and forth with nervous energy, cleaning and straightening. It’s what she has always done when she’s upset. I guess she figured if she’s going to pace, she might as well make it useful.
I sat perfectly still inside the warmth of Daddy’s embrace, my eyes following her every movement. His big hands slid over my hair soothingly as he reassured me in a hushed voice. “Everything will be all right.”
And that has always been the difference between Mom and Dad. She’s a doer, perpetually in motion. He’s a soother, calm and patient. These are both perfectly fine traits. It’s just, sometimes, one works better for me than the other.
As the sun set and the crickets began their nightly song, a lump rose in my throat. Benji had left on foot, at least Daddy assumed so since the bikes were still in the garage. But even so, he should have been back by now. He had been gone for hours. The clock ticked ominously, as if each second that went by pulled Benji farther and farther away from me. I just wanted to know where he was and that he was safe.
“Briar, let’s g
o get you in a bath,” Mommy said. I shook my head and pressed my face into Daddy, trying to make myself invisible. How could she think about things like baths and cleaning when my heart was hurting? “Honey, it’s late. We need to get you ready for bed.” I clung to Daddy as tightly as I could. I didn’t want to sleep. I just wanted Benji back.
A light tap sounded on the screen door and we looked up to see Benji’s dirty face pressed against the partition, a box tucked under his arm. I felt Daddy’s body relax. Mommy gasped. I slid off Daddy’s lap, and opened the door. With a dimpled smile, Benji offered me the box wrapped in old yellowed newspaper. I took it from his hand, swung my arm back, and let it fly, punching Benji in the eye. The present fell to the rug at our feet.
“Briar!” Mommy yelled in shock. Daddy grabbed my arm as I lifted it to strike Benji again. But Benji, he just rubbed his eye with filthy fingers, leaving brown streaks across his cheekbone. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t flinch or recoil from my anger. He did nothing but stare at me with wide eyes.
“Why did you do that?” Daddy asked me, his voice rough.
“He scared me,” I screamed. Tears filled my eyes as I looked at my best friend. His feet were bare and caked in dirt, his toes scraped and lightly bleeding. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, Benjamin Borelli! Or I’ll…I’ll…” I thrust myself forward out of my father’s arms and into Benji’s, pulling him into a hug so quickly, so tightly, I felt the air rush out of his lungs. He immediately hugged me back just as tightly, his sweaty head resting against my cheek.
“Benji, you need to go home, honey,” Mommy said to him, her voice gentle. “Your momma’s been looking for you. Nobody knew you were leaving.”
Daddy pulled me away from Benji like prying tangled plastic wrap apart. “Next time, tell somebody where you’re going,” he chided.
Benji nodded with glossy eyes. “I tried to wake her up, but she wouldn’t, and Grandpa had to work at the store today. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.” He looked at me as one tear fell and slid down his cheek, streaking a clean path through the dirt. “I’m sorry,” he said again, picking up the gift from where it had fallen. He handed it back to me, determined for me to accept it.
“Let me get you some cake to take home,” Mommy said, her voice sounding as if she were choking on her words.
“We’ll have Briar run it over in a bit. You go on now, Benji,” Daddy instructed. “Let your mom know you’re all right.”
Benji turned to leave and I took his hand. “Thank you for being okay,” I whispered. He squeezed my fingers, the warm pressure of his skin comforting.
I went from room to room, watching him through the windows until he disappeared inside his house, safe and sound. And then I opened his present. It was a plastic Sleeping Beauty doll—my namesake—to add to my collection. It must have cost him all of his chore money.
Two things occurred to me that day. There were scarier things than the monsters I feared lived in my closet. When you love someone, they can hurt and terrify you more than anything else in the world. And secondly, I loved Benjamin Borelli with all my heart.
I stare at the candles, trying to push that day from my mind. It’s so long ago now. I’m a different person and Benji has been gone for over three years. I scratch my palm. I can always feel the scar there when I think of him. It feels like spiders crawling beneath my skin and I shiver.
I close my eyes, and even though I tell myself not to, I wish for the chance to see Benji again. Just like I’ve done for the past two birthdays. I blow twenty flames away with the wish.
“What’d you wish for?” my best friend, Kameron, asks. Her smile assures me she already knows. I turn my head and look at my boyfriend of two years, Flynn. Tall and strong, his dark hair and skin making his bright blue eyes stand out in contrast. I look at my hand, so small inside his.
“If I tell you,” I say, “it won’t come true.”
“Not necessarily. If you don’t let people know what you want, how can they grant your wishes?” Flynn questions with a grin.
I shake my head and pull my hand from his. “I don’t need anybody to make my dreams come true. I can do that on my own.” Flynn’s grin falters. He looks at Kameron who clicks her tongue, popping a small bubble loudly. She shrugs and slides her finger across the frosting. Instead of licking it, she smears it down my nose. I laugh and grab a handful of cake, smashing it across her face.
“Stop,” Mom cries. “I worked hard on this cake, Briar. You’re supposed to eat it, not wear it.” She smooths her strawberry hair and it bounces around her chin. She tries to look stern, but the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth ruins the effect.
Dad laughs at us as Kameron uses her finger to push the cake from her cheek to her mouth. “It’s good, Pine,” she mumbles. Flynn licks my nose, nuzzling his cheek against mine, and Kameron groans. “Get a room you two. You’re so gross.”
“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Dad says. “You’ll turn me gray.” I roll my eyes because my dad is one of those men who only get better looking with age, and miraculously, there isn’t even a hint of silver in his thick dark hair.
“I’ll cut what’s left of the cake while you open your presents,” Mom suggests.
I don’t need to be told twice. Birthdays are my favorite. Actually, presents are my favorite. The first package is from Kameron. I tear into it, ripping the pretty purple paper ferociously. It’s a multi-colored beaded bracelet and matching necklace. She stretches her arm out, light shimmering off her wrist as she shows me her own bracelet. “Now we’ll match.”
“I love it. Thanks, Kam.” I lean across the table, hugging her. I inhale her apples and cinnamon scent she’s inherited from working in her mom’s candle store. She clips the necklace around my neck and whispers, “Gift two is in liquid form, hidden in my bag for later.”
I slide the bracelet over my wrist and grin at her. I’m not much of a drinker and she knows this, but she never stops trying to corrupt me. I love her for her tenacity.
“Open mine next,” Flynn says. He pushes a large, flat box—complete with pink bow—at me. I smile as I lift the lid. Inside is a yellow sundress. The one I had looked at for fifteen minutes straight last week. I’d been fighting a tiny war within myself. One side wanted to purchase the dress, the other, more reasonable side, thought my money was better saved for more necessary things, such as a new saddle for Kingston or paying for college.
Maturity is a pain in the ass.
“That’s the one, right?”
I nod as I hug him, my chin bumping his muscular shoulder. “It’s the one.”
Dad is smiling at me when I look over at him. “We didn’t wrap ours, it was too big.” He stands up and leaves the room. I don’t know if I’m supposed to follow him or not, so I just stay where I am and wait as patiently as I’m capable of. A moment later he yells for me to close my eyes. I do it immediately. I feel the air shift and know he’s in front of me. And then I smell it. The crisp scent of leather tickles my nose, mixed with the sweet aroma of oil and saddle soap. My eyes pop open and rest on a brand new, shiny brown saddle. I jump up from my chair and hug Mom first because she isn’t holding anything. Then I smack a kiss on the vicinity of Dad’s cheek and take the saddle from him, my feet bouncing me up and down.
“You are the best parents.” I run out the door not minding the weight of the saddle or how the straps lash at my legs as I sprint to the barn. Kingston whinnies when he sees me. Maybe he’s as excited about his new accessory as I am. I arrange the saddle on his back quickly.
“Look how beautiful you are, King,” I coo. “You’re the most handsome horse that ever lived.”
Flynn stands at the door and watches me, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “Are you going for a ride?”
I shrug. “I want to try out my gift. You don’t mind, do you?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine if you give me a kiss before you abandon me.” His lips spread into a devilish grin. I know it’s not rig
ht, but this is what I like about him. He’s gorgeous. Our relationship is strongly based—though not entirely—on this attraction, but he’s never seemed to mind.
“When you get back, I’ll let you have your other present.” The seductive tone to his voice causes an ache between my legs.
“Another present?” I tease. “What is it?”
“Get over here and I’ll give you a hint,” he murmurs.
He hooks his finger at me. A shiver runs over my spine. I love the way his muscles twitch in his hand. Oh, so much.
I move silently over to him and lean in until he wraps his arms around my waist. He shifts us around the corner so we can’t be seen, and then he kisses me languidly. His mouth is warm, sweet from the cake. His tongue is soft as it touches mine. Flynn’s strong hands roam over my arms, kneading and caressing at the same time. He slips down to my hips, fingertips pulsing against my skin. He pushes me tight against the wall and moves his lips over my chin, sweeping them along my neck in a heated trail. Goosebumps raise the hairs on my arms and I sigh. He laughs against my shoulder making a muffled, husky sound.
“I love that,” he whispers as he strokes my bare flesh and brings his mouth to mine again. His hands skim my sides, down to my waist. When they move again, I put my hands on his chest. As good as he feels, and as much as I want gift two, I really want to take King out for a little while.
Flynn groans. “Look what you do to me.” He slides my hand down his chest, curving my fingers to cup the hardened bulge in his pants.
“You do it to yourself,” I correct, my tone low and breathy. “You’re the one that wanted a kiss.” I hesitate for just a moment, struggling with my decision before I finally release his hard on and move around him. His eyes are bright with desire and his breathing is heavy. My cheeks feel hot as I pull myself up onto Kingston’s back. I want to stay. I want to run. Times like this, after I’ve been thinking about Benji, I need to distance myself from Flynn. Even if just for a moment. Birthdays are always difficult, but I know if Flynn is patient with me, everything will be back to normal in a few days.