His weakness

The ashes where my heart use to be

Jena

I try not to imagine that it is John's hands on my hips. Try not to imagine that it is him moving his hands lower down my stomach as I move against him, but with the guy at my back and my eyes closed, that is all I can imagine. The guy honestly feels nothing like I would imagine John would feel like, but still, it is the only way I can keep myself from cringing. Why do I get myself in these situations? The guy turns me around and presses his legs between mine, but I don't care, because the second he turned me around, I opened my eyes and I wish I hadn't. John is dancing with another girl, and the way he is touching her is nothing like how this guy touches me. For starters, his hands are nowhere near her ass, instead they are firmly planted on her hips. His leg isn't between her legs, instead she is dancing between his, her head on his shoulder, her back arched while her ass is planted against his crotch. He moves with her, fluently, matching her every move, or maybe leading her? Jealousy rears her ugly head and, as if he can feel me looking at him, he suddenly lifts his head and looks right at me, a smirk on his lips. He knows exactly what this is doing to me.

When Melody told him earlier that she would help him find a girl to take home and help him with his pent-up frustration, I tried to ignore the instant burst of jealousy, placing all my attention on getting the waiter over to our table. Looks like he didn't need her help after all. I turn my eyes away from him and focus on the guy that is trying to get me to hump his f*****g leg. I try to create some space, but the fucker pulls me closer. "Relax babe. It is okay to get all nice and wet for me." He says and to say I am repulsed by his words is an understatement.

"I am as f*****g dry as the Sahara dessert you f*****g ass. Now get off me." I tell him over the pounding of the music, but either this i***t is deaf or he is one of those men that simply doesn't care that a girl is telling him no, taking everything as a challenge. He pulls me tighter to him, every inch of my front touching his now.

"She said to get the f**k off her. If I were you, I would listen." John's deep voice says from behind the asshole. I refuse to look up at him, but still relief floods me.

"Man, she is just trying to play hard to get, I am just giving her what she wants." He says. I try to push harder against his chest, but the guy is stronger than I am and he keeps me locked in his tight embrace. One second, his arms are still wrapped around me, and the next second, he is gone. It takes me a second to realize that John has his arms behind his back and, by the look on the guy's face, John isn't being gentle.

"I wouldn't bother trying to fight him. The guy is twice your size and he is a self-defense instructor. Just turn around and get the f**k out of my club." Archer says from behind me, nearly making me jump. f**k, I don't need Gwen hearing about this. Archer is one of the billionaire boys that own this club, he is also married to my boss and, from what I have seen, the two of them tell each other everything. John doesn't even acknowledge his friend, his eyes firmly planted on mine. He let's go of the guy, pushing him to the side, before taking a step towards me. I don't know what he sees on my face, but whatever it is causes worry to bleed through his. I don't let him reach me, instead I turn on my heels and push my way through people to try and get to the door. I need to get out of here, I will apologize to Melody tomorrow. The second I get out of the club, I take a deep breath of the cold night air. I turn in the direction of the waiting cabs, ready to get out of her and back to my bed where I should've stayed tonight. It was a bad idea to even consider saying yes to a night out with Melody.

"Jena, wait!" I hear John shouting behind me and I walk faster, needing to get away from him and everything he makes me feel, makes me remember. "For f**k sakes Jena, you forgot your purse." He says, closer to me than I expected him to be. I sigh when I realize that I did indeed forget my purse when I practically ran out of the club. Just my luck. I turn around and face him and he nearly bumps into me.

"Thanks." I say as I hold out my hand for my purse that is clutched tightly in his hands. He gives it to me and then turns around, not saying anything, just walks back towards the club. "That's it?" I say before I can stop myself. Stupid, Jena.

"Yeah!" He shouts back, not bothering to turn around. I stand there on the sidewalk, staring at his back and just when I think that he isn't going to turn around, he does and then he is stalking back to me, his body stiff with anger. "What did you expect would happen? That I would come running after you and beg you to stay? I didn't want you here in the first place." He says, slicing deep.

"Tell Melody I say sorry." I tell him and then I am the one turning around, but before I can even take a step away from him, he grabs my arm and turns me to face him. He is so close, close enough that I can feel his heavy breathing as his anger builds up.

"You don't f*****g get to do that. You don't get to f*****g order me around and you don't get to have the easy way out." He nearly growls.

"The easy way out? I have never had the easy way out!" I shout at him, my own anger starting to boil.

"You have always taken the easy way out. You never could stand up and face your problems head on." He says back and really, I can't argue with that, even if I wanted to. I have taken the easy way out by telling him that I didn't want him, rather then telling him that I have missed him every second of every day for the past eight years, that I wanted to come back to him with every fiber of my being, but that would lead to the hard stuff, that would lead to telling him why I disappeared over night, why I couldn't face him when I had the chance. Sure, it wasn't easy to tell him that I didn't want to come back, but it was easier than the alternative.

"Look, I know I messed up by not coming back and I know I hurt your feelings when I told you that I didn't want you."

"Hurt my feelings? You f*****g ripped my heart out of my chest and spat on it. For two f*****g years I looked for you. I nearly failed my senior year because I couldn't focus on anything but finding you. I lost my place on the football team, lost my f*****g scholarship, because I couldn't care about showing up for practice, trying to find your selfish ass! Still, none of that mattered because the only thing that mattered to me was finding you and I lost all of that only to find out that you willingly never came back to me? That everything I thought we had, everything I thought we were, was nothing but a f*****g joke to you. You didn't f*****g hurt my feelings, it went way past that when I found you that day in Malawi." He says, pain and anger fighting for dominance in his eyes.

"I didn't stay away because you weren't enough, John. I stayed away because I wasn't." I tell him, my body deflating as the fight leaves me.

"That's rich, the whole 'It isn't you, it's me' card. That is very cliché and so unoriginal, Jena." He says with a sarcastic laugh.

"It's the truth, but you will never understand." I tell him. Maybe he is right, maybe I should face my problems head on and just tell him. Sure he will hate me and it will hurt him, but the truth is always better when it's out, right?

"Then help me understand!" He shouts at me and I open my mouth, trying to force the words out, all the secrets I have been holding onto for the past eight years, but nothing comes out, instead I look like a deer caught in headlights, my eyes wide and my mouth opening and closing. "You know what, I don't need this. You can keep your secrets. I want nothing to do with you. Just stay the f**k away from my sister." He says, turning around again and walking away. This time I don't say anything to stop him, I just watch as he walks away, the ashes where my heart use to be, following him.