In Between the Earth and Sky

by Heidi Hutchinson

  “Then you would technically work for us,” Yvette explained.

  And they could boss him around.

  Remington curled his lips in an unfriendly smile. They had no idea what they were suggesting. Empty threats and manipulation.

  He’d never been a fan of those kinds of tactics.

  And they’d been with him long enough, they should have known that.

  “I have an idea,” he said, done playing their salty game of jealously. “How about you go home and think about it. Really give it some deep thought.”

  Mimi went to interrupt and he held his hand up to stop her.

  “I’ll go to Texas with whomever I choose. And hopefully you two will get over your diva phase by the time I get back.”

  He didn’t stick around to wait for any more of their fucked up reasons and shitty ideas. They didn’t like he was spending time with Lydia. It was pretty fucking transparent they thought they had some claim to him. To him, his business, his time.

  They were wrong. Obviously.

  And if they had one single brain cell in between them, they’d figure that out.

  “Ready?” Jackie asked brightly when he stepped outside.

  It was all he could do not to groan out loud.

  “I’ll drop you at your hotel on the way back,” he said, deciding to just be out with it.

  “Can I get my stuff from your place first?” she asked.

  “Yep.” And then he’d call her a car. Because he was tired and he hadn’t had a minute to his own thoughts in two weeks.

  The drive back was quiet. Maybe Jackie had finally run out of words.

  Remington let his mind wander back to the sailboats he’d bookmarked on his phone the day before. He hadn’t sailed in so long he’d have to practice a bit before taking off on any kind of long distance trip. But that shouldn’t be an issue. He’d always been a fast learner.

  All the ships he’d marked for a second look had a perfect place for Lydia to sit and drink coffee at night.

  That shouldn’t be the selling point.

  But it was a detail he couldn’t seem to move past.

  For a moment, Cressida entered his mind.

  She loved the ocean. Always talked about wanting a place right on the beach so she could surf first thing in the morning.

  Why would he think about that now?

  It seemed a decade wasn’t enough time to stop being in love with someone you couldn’t love enough.

  “You look like you have a lot on your mind.”

  Jackie’s very astute observation came as a reminder that he hadn’t made the best decisions when it came to—damn, he hated the word relationships, but there wasn’t a different word for it—starting them or ending them.

  “I’m pretty tired. Can you call an Uber for yourself?” he asked, falling onto his back on his bed.

  Jackie closed the door to his room and for a moment, he thought she was gone.

  The bed depressed beside him and a hand ran over his chest.

  “You’re very tense, Remy,” she said, voice low. “Let me help you with that.”

  He ground his teeth together and put his hand on top of hers to stop its movement. “No thanks, Jackie.”

  She shifted to her knees to kneel over him, her red hair cascading over her shoulder. “C’mon,” she whispered, leaning down to suck his earlobe into her mouth.

  He leaned away from her, uncomfortable with how pushy she was being.

  “I said no,” he repeated harshly.

  He tried to sit up and was met with resistance as she placed both of her hands on his chest and tried to force him back down. She swung her small frame around and straddled his lap. He grasped her wrists and pushed back.

  “Damn it, Jackie! I said no!”

  She sat up and had the audacity to look offended. “What’s your problem?”

  “I don’t want to fuck you. Take a hint.”

  She tilted her head to the side and frowned. Her hands twisted out of his grasp and landed on his stomach where she pushed his t-shirt up. One hand ran up his chest while the other undid the button on his jeans.

  Remington rolled swiftly, sending the smaller woman to the ground.

  “What the hell?” she yelled, scrambling to her feet.

  Remington buttoned his pants with shaking hands before opening the door to his room.

  “Get out. Get out now.” His jaw screamed in pain as he ground his teeth together hard. He kept one hand on the door and the other clenched into a fist at his side, afraid he’d do something stupid.

  Jackie, now angered, gathered her things and shoved them into her bag. “You’re such an asshole,” she hissed. “You’ve been playing me.”

  Remington’s hand clenched tighter. “Playing you?” he shook his head, deciding not to get into it with her.

  “That’s what you do though, isn’t it?” Jackie raised her voice. “The great Remington Rohan, gets all the pussy he wants whenever he wants. Just has to have women surrounding him all the time. Your little harem. Constantly at your beck and call. But God forbid one of them owns her sexuality enough to make her own moves.”

  “Oh my God, you’re so fucking crazy.” He pinched the bridge if his nose and dropped his hand back to his side. “You’re fired. Don’t contact my people, don’t contact me.”

  She reared back, her eyes wild. “You can’t do that,” she snorted.

  “The hell I can’t!” Remington yelled, finally losing his temper. He slammed the door and jabbed one hand in her direction. “If I hadn’t been stronger than you, you would have taken what you wanted just a second ago. What kind of a sick mind thinks that’s okay? You’re lucky I’m not calling the cops. Now…” He opened the door again. “Get the fuck out.”

  Jackie stomped passed him and he followed her all the way to the front door and out into the hallway. Making sure she made it outside of the locked security doors.

  She whirled in the apartment’s entryway.

  “I’m gonna tell everyone who you really are. What you’ve done. How you don’t really care about people like you pretend to. You just use us.”

  As far as parting shots, that one kind of stung.

  First his awkward disconnect with Lydia, then Mimi and Yvette’s poorly timed coup, ending with Jackie’s crazy ass.

  He went back upstairs and dumped his luggage out. He repacked it with fresh clothes and a few weekend supplies.

  Taking out his phone, he scrolled through the messages Mimi and Yvette had sent him over the past couple of minutes.

  Wow, Jackie worked fast. She’d already gotten them freaking out.

  He didn’t reply to any of them before shutting down his phone and leaving it on the desk. He took a look around his L.A. apartment, realizing that he didn’t need to be there anymore, and he left.

  ***

  Lydia

  The door to her apartment opened just as Lydia was crossing back to the kitchen to retrieve her freshly made coffee.

  Remington stared at her, frozen in the doorway. His hands hung loose at his sides but his body was strung tight.

  The current that always thrummed between them came to life and she responded. She went to her closet and filled a duffle with clean clothes and essentials.

  As she packed, Remington didn’t move and he didn’t speak.

  He didn’t have to.

  She poured her coffee into a travel mug, turned off all the lights, and slid her cell phone into her back pocket.

  At the door, she met his dark eyes and felt a strange pride in herself that she didn’t flinch at the turmoil she saw there. The dark swirl of loneliness mixed with confusion.

  “I’m ready,” she said softly.

  He scanned her face, all the weight of what he was going through resting on her.

  “It might not be safe,” he warned carefully.

  “Safe is relative.”

  Her reply sent a wave of desperation through his expression that made her heart hurt. He turned to lead her out of the apartment
. She locked the door behind them, knowing no matter what happened next, she wasn’t going to regret a second of it.

  Chapter 15

  Mine

  Remington

  She’d stuffed her dark hair under a hat and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over the top of it. He watched her jog into the gas station, not even a glance behind her.

  Total trust.

  And he’d given her nothing.

  Not an explanation or a plan or anything.

  She’d packed a bag and followed him.

  He didn’t deserve that kind of devotion. But he needed it.

  Boy, did he need it.

  He filled the gas tank, locked the doors, and headed inside. The sensor above the door made a low ding and both the cashier and Lydia looked his direction. Remington nodded at them before making use of the facilities.

  She was standing at the exit, a bottle of water tucked into the crook of her arm and a plastic bag looped through her elbow, perusing the small selection of gossip magazines.

  “Ready?” he asked, wondering if maybe he should get something to drink too. Like coffee. How long was he planning on driving tonight?

  “What? Um, yeah.” She glanced up at him, her expression switching quickly. So quickly, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if he wasn’t already paranoid she would change her mind. She smiled slyly. “I got you a couple energy drinks in case you start feeling sleepy.” She lifted the bag.

  She’d pulled her hat low over her eyes and the lights above them were an unflattering florescent, but this was the best look he’d gotten of her since they’d left.

  A kaleidoscope of hazel and bronze swirled in a reckless pattern aimed up at him.

  “You gonna stay up all night with me?” he asked, feeling the roughness in his throat as the words struggled their way out.

  He shouldn’t be doing this. Not with her.

  He would break her by the end of whatever this was.

  And yet, she knew that about him. Had declared it even.

  And she was still here.

  She was either just as fearless as he was, or completely insane.

  His heart sped up at the two possibilities, both of which he found incredibly appealing.

  Fuck.

  “No promises,” she replied with a wink.

  Remington leaned just past her and pushed the door open. “After you, trouble.”

  She grinned and wiggled her fingers goodbye at the cashier before strutting out the door. Remington took a cursory glance of her backside and glanced to his right to see the cashier doing the same thing.

  Yep.

  He was fucked.

  ***

  Remington had never met anyone who could down that much coffee and then fall asleep.

  Not until now anyway.

  He glanced sideways at the sleeping figure huddled against the door. She'd tucked her feet underneath her, folding her legs and body into a tight ball and passed out. Her hat had been cast aside and her tussled hair covered half her face. A few strands blew in the soft air that expelled between her parted lips.

  Fifty miles back, Remington had decided he needed a rest. Sure, getting in the car and just driving sounded like a good idea. But he still hadn’t had a decent night’s rest since the first seminar in New York. He was battling jetlag and an emotional fallout like he hadn’t experienced since adolescence.

  An echo of a feeling fluttered in his burnt-out rib cage and he cleared his throat in an attempt to quell it.

  How it found him, he didn't know. Maybe it was a weakness already born in him. One he hadn't yet been able to kill, no matter how many times or with what various solvents he'd used to burn it away.

  He stopped the car outside of a roadside motel. The neon lights announcing their arrival to a place that charged by the hour.

  Not great. But acceptable.

  He breathed slowly, taking in measured air, not too much and not too little. The yellow light from the building outside permeated the interior of the vehicle, casting both him and Lydia in tones of sepia.

  Lydia.

  A name he’d been taking for granted, but in the past few hours, it had sewn itself into his skin and his mind.

  Even now, hidden by her sleep, he could see the color of her eyes. Bronze and green swirled with gold. The color wasn't unusual. He'd seen thousands of pairs of beautiful eyes over the years.

  It was the purity in her gaze. The way she looked at him without shutters and veils. And while he hadn't been able to hear it clearly at first, over the miles it had grown in volume and diction. Originating in his mind and thundering through the emptiness of his insides.

  Mine.

  He squeezed his eyes closed, his right thumb going to his mouth where his teeth cut into the side of it.

  “Where are we?” Lydia's sleepy voice asked as her body uncurled in the seat.

  “The border of Arizona and New Mexico.” Remington opened his eyes and stared at the clock on the dash, determined not to look at her again until he'd figured out what the hell was going on in his head. “I need some sleep. And it looks like it's gonna storm.”

  As if to make his point, lightning flashed in the distance.

  “That makes sense,” she murmured reaching for her hat on the dash. “I like your choice. Very homey. Not backwoods horror movie at all.”

  Remington smirked involuntarily. “Smart ass.”

  She snorted and pushed her door open. “Well, c'mon. Let's get this murder over with.”

  Remington checked them into a room while Lydia flipped through tourist pamphlets near the door. The night manager was the antithesis of the outside portrayal of the motel. She was sitting behind the desk, watching I Love Lucy reruns and knitting what appeared to be baby booties.

  Remington took the key, thanked the woman, and slung an arm around Lydia as he steered her out the door. She curled into his side like she had done it a thousand times before and the voice resonated in Remington's head.

  Mine.

  But she wasn't.

  She was a wild thing. If anything, she was just as wild as he was, if not more so. Like a flower growing on a rocky mountain slope. He couldn’t claim her any more than he could claim a star.

  He let her go when they reached the door marked with a brass eleven, immediately missing the warmth of her body.

  She took the key out of his hand, opened the door, and pushed inside.

  “Oh, this is nice,” she declared happily. “Very clean.”

  She wasn't wrong. Remington scanned the room with the one bed and dresser, not seeing anything even remotely dusty.

  “Not bad for a by-the-hour establishment,” he agreed. “I've stayed in places that charged more than a grand a night and the carpet smelled like feet.”

  Her laughter echoed out of the bathroom before she closed the door and he heard the water come on.

  Remington sat down on the edge of the bed and frowned at the drawn curtains before him.

  What if he didn’t go back?

  What if he just kept driving?

  No more people, no more questions. No more feeling the weight of others’ decisions.

  It would be so much easier if he could just empty himself out. Carve and score his insides until there was nothing left. Then he’d be the shell he was so often accused of being.

  But then what?

  Lydia entered his field of vision as she sat down on the floor opposite him. Her wide lips soft and pliant. It would be so easy to lose himself in her for a little while.

  “Why did you come with me?” he asked.

  She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on one of them. “Because you asked.”

  But he didn’t. Not with words.

  Though, he remembered standing in her doorway and thinking that his heart was screaming.

  Maybe she’d heard it.

  He didn’t anymore. Not in years. He’d learned to tune it out as a matter of survival.

  That thought had him chewing on the side
of his thumb again.

  What would happen if someone actually understood him? Not just in small moments when he was being sweet and charming? What if someone could understand him when he was being reckless and his assholery was on display?

  And what if that person, knowing everything about him, chose to stay?

  “I fired Jackie,” he announced grimly. “For coming onto me. Yes, go ahead and judge, I know I do.”

  Lydia’s face frowned in confused concern, but she didn’t interrupt.

  Which was nice. Remington had some things he really needed to get off his chest. And he had no idea when it had happened, but Lydia had become his safe space.

  “I mean, yeah, I slept with her a long time ago. But she was acting like just because we’d done it before, she’d get to do it again? What is that?” He gesticulated absurdly and huffed a humorless laugh. “But really, I’m sure it’s my fault. If I didn’t have this hopeless belief that people are genuinely good at their center, I’d have seen her bullshit for what it was. I just—” He shook his head at his own idiocy. “I just always think I’m going to show them a better way. And it’s so stupid. I’m so stupid.” He punctuated that point with a finger to his chest.

  “And Yvette and Mimi think so too. They basically accused me of being led around by my dick.” Lydia’s eyes widened and he rushed to clarify. “They didn’t use those words. But they implied it.”

  He dropped his face into his hands, rubbed vigorously, and raised it again.

  “I think they’re trying to look out for me. By using my own tactics against me—oh, believe me, I’ve already marveled at the irony.”

  Lydia puckered her lips and filled her cheeks with air. “I’m a bad influence on you.”

  He shook his head. “But you’re not. When I’m with you, I feel like… me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Or, at least the me I used to be. I’m not really sure.” His gaze wandered to the busy wallpaper pattern.

  “I used to do motocross when I was younger,” he said.

  Younger. What a novel concept.

  “And I was good. It was really the only time I felt alive. It’s a crazy sport but I’d convinced myself I had control. But this one time, I was out with my cousin and I’d done this one jump probably twenty times without a problem. Then I wrecked. Bad. Tore myself up. Broke so many bones.” His wrist throbbed just thinking about it. “And I never, ever went back to it. My body healed.” He cast a dark look her way. “But the rest of me?”