The Night We Met
Page 6
“Sam? Sam, wait!”
Shirtless, jeans bunched around his knees, hair a frightful mess, Jethro stumbled out of the car. He shuddered from the cold as he worked his pants up his thighs, and I drank in the sight of him one last time. Even with bloodshot eyes, smelling of sex and liquor, he was enchanting. It was cruel of fate to have thrown him into my life, the final taunt before I took the leap.
Even if I lived, it wasn’t like we would have a shot. Jethro and I might as well be from two different planets for all we had in common. In everyday life, he would have never pursued me, and I wouldn’t have given him a second glance. We came from two different worlds, and he needed to return to his where his loving family awaited him.
“Did you need something?” My voice was lifeless, dead as the withered grass beneath my feet.
Jethro flinched. “Where are you going?”
As he ducked his head into the car, presumably to grab a shirt, I turned away. “Gotta catch a ride back to Fayetteville. It’s late.”
“Wait just a sec—Sam!” Gravel crunched as he chased me down, and I gritted my teeth when he grabbed my elbow and spun me. Barefoot, in nothing but his open jeans, he gaped at me. Confusion and concern played over his face. “I can give you a ride if you just wait two seconds.”
“I’m good.”
He utilized his height advantage and blocked me as I maneuvered around him, and I stepped back to keep from colliding into his bare chest. “What the fuck are you doing? It’s barely morning, it’s freezing out, and you’re gonna hitchhike?”
“I don’t have many options.” I waved my hands, gesturing to our barren surroundings.
“I have a working car, right there! Why are you being like this?”
When he reached to cup my face, I smacked his hands away. “Like what? Were you expecting cuddles and pillow talk?” His brows rose as my fear-fueled anger ignited. “Judging from your proficiency, I’m not the first guy you let fuck you in the backseat of your car, and I assume I won’t be the last.”
Hurt carved into his face as he staggered back. One step. Two steps. “Excuse me?”
“We fucked, big deal. Let’s not make this more than it is.” The words sliced my throat and mangled my mouth, yet I spewed them anyway. I didn’t understand why I was angry, but I had targeted the source of my unrest. Jethro, innocent and good, was the reason for my pain, and I couldn’t stop the biting words. “Go back to your shitty life and leave me alone.”
As if I punched him, he reared back, and the pain in his eyes writhed and hardened to hatred. I turned, unable to stomach the sight. I made it three steps before he spoke, his tone shattered. “My twelve hours aren’t up, yet.”
Heaving an exaggerated sigh, I peered over my shoulder. “Fuck you and your twelve hours.”
I trudged onward, leaving him behind practically naked in the snow. This was the right thing to do, yet my soul shrieked in torment. But I was weak, and running away was what I was best at.
As gravel scattered behind me, hands shoved my shoulders, and I almost tumbled to the ground, catching my balance at the last second. I turned to defend myself, but Jethro didn’t attack again. His chest heaved and his fists trembled, but it was the heart-wrenching bitterness in his eyes that stabbed my gut.
“Fuck you, Sam, you self-centered prick. You’re nothing but a coward!” He bared his teeth as his face flushed with fury. “Life’s hard. It’s full of disappointment and loss, pain and heartbreak. It can be lonely and dark, and the responsibilities are so heavy, it feels like you’ll be crushed by them. Some days, life sucks.
“But you know what? Get over it! That’s what the rest of us do.” He straightened to his full height, only inches taller yet still managing to loom over me. “We push through when we feel like giving up, and we fucking fight! We fight for all the things worth fighting for, for all the things that actually matter. But you?” He shook his head, his eyes glassy. “You’re just giving up. You’re pathetic.”
There was no use denying it. I knew it was true as surely as he did. But it still didn’t change my mind. I was pathetic, a coward, just like he said. It was why he needed to let me go. He deserved someone better than me, a less broken man. And I owed the river a debt.
“Pathetic?” I mocked, cooling my gaze. “Says the guy abandoning his own life. Who’s the real pitiful one?”
“Sometimes, we have to make sacrifices—”
I swiped my hand through the air, cutting him off. “Save the speech for someone who gives a shit. Yes, I’m a coward, but I would rather die on my own terms than live a wretched existence on someone else’s. You want to sacrifice your life for the good of your sisters, go for it. Have fun being miserable. Enjoy the rundown house and the sawmill. Best of luck with your future-less life.”
For the life of me, I couldn’t comprehend how we’d arrived here, to this desolate stretch of gravel as silver-tipped tongues slashed and burned. I wanted to take it all back, to steal the words from the air and bury them six-feet under. But words were stubborn things. There was no way to fix this, whatever this was. The pure loathing on his face was enough to confirm that.
“I should have never talked you down from that railing.” Every barbed word hit me like a flaming arrow, and I almost buckled under the pain.
Instead, I brushed off my hoodie as if to wipe away the memories, and gave Jethro my back. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have. It would have saved us both the trouble.”
Snow melted into my tennis shoes, soaking my toes, but I welcomed the chill. I was used to the cold; embracing it was easier. The numbness was familiar, and I hunched my shoulders and continued my trek.
With every step, self-hatred pulsed through my blood, and the anger melted away like the snow at my feet. Regret rushed through me, and I almost turned back. He wouldn’t want my apologies, but could I really end things like this? But my guilt was stronger than my remorse, and I tucked my hands into my hoodie pocket and ploughed on.
I had almost reached the end of the dirt road when an engine gunned behind me. Keeping my eyes on the frozen ground, I refused to watch him drive by, even when the car slowed. A window whirred, lowering in my peripheral, and something clattered to the ground at my feet—a spotted horse figurine.
“I suppose I’ll have to search the riverbank for it later, won’t I?” Jethro snarled, and I cringed away from his abhorrence. “Enjoy the lonely drop, Sam.”
Rocks and stained snow spat behind his tires as he peeled onto the street, and against my better judgment, I watched his car speed away until his taillights disappeared. I retrieved the horse, brushing the snow away with numb fingers, and with no other choice, I fit it into my pocket and plodded down the road.
After twenty minutes, an old, rusty pickup truck slowed beside me and honked. An older gentleman with a graying beard stuck his head out the open window and eyed me warily. “You look like you could use a ride.”
I nodded, my voice failing me, and climbed into the passenger seat. After assuring the stranger I was all right, we drove in silence to Fayetteville. He drove me to the other side of town and dropped me near the city limits. I lied, saying I lived nearby, but I didn’t think he believed me. Either way, he drove off after another concerned look through the passenger window.
My feet ached, but I pushed through the discomfort until I’d walked the last half-mile to the New River Gorge Bridge. The sky had lightened, the black of night shifting to indigo, and as I came to a stop at the railing, I gazed at the lighter blue playing along the horizon. Another twenty minutes and the sun would rise. A new year, a new day.
As the minutes ticked by, I listened to the roar of the rapids hundreds of feet below, but the inviting siren song had stilled. I didn’t hear the temptation, the alluring call. No, there was nothing but the gushing promise of empty death.
“There’s no return ticket, Sam.”
Twelve hours ago, it was what I wanted, but now… Had twelve hours really changed that?
Retrieving the horse figu
rine, I stood it on the railing and studied the spotted body. My vision blurred with tears as I ran a fingertip over the plastic back. Everything was complicated now. Before, the hungry river, the free-fall, the inevitable end, they had felt like the answer. But maybe I hadn’t been asking the right question, after all.
The melody of the rapids had sounded like home, but the foggy darkness below didn’t feel like home to me now. No, home was the warbling voice of my abuela and the scent of lavender lotion on my mother’s hands. It was the pride on my father’s face when I was accepted to college. Home was menthol cigarettes, Mountain Fresh soap, and whiskey. It was the smile on Ruthie’s face when I told her we were friends.
Something deep inside me splintered, and I hugged the horse figurine to my chest as I broke into haggard sobs. Hot tears tracked down my cheeks as I mourned the overwhelming loss of myself. I still didn’t know how it happened, but somewhere along the way, I’d lost sight of who I was, who I wanted to be. And aimless, I drifted into dark waters.
I had no idea how to fix myself, how to find all I had lost, but for the first time in years, I wanted to try. Hope flickered in my chest, striving to burst into flames. It just needed a little oxygen, some kindling, a pinch of life.
It wouldn’t be easy. No, this would be the hardest thing I’d ever do. But, holding Ruthie’s pinto horse as Jethro’s Mountain Fresh soap clung to my skin, I realized I didn’t want to die. Life was hard. But for once, I wanted to fight for something real.
As the sky lightened and streaked with purples and blues, I wept. Lost in my sorrow, I didn’t hear the engine purr or the slam of the door. I didn’t notice the scrape of shoes on asphalt or the smoke of menthol cigarettes. It wasn't until the warmth of a body sidled next to me that I raised my head from my forearms.
Peering to my right, I blinked through tears as Jethro settled beside me, elbows resting on the railing. He looked out over the gorge, ignoring me completely. His eyes were red and swollen, like he’d been crying, and my heart filled with lead. I did that; I hurt him.
Slowly, cautiously, he angled his head just enough to meet my gaze, and my apologies froze on my lips. Shattered, he searched my eyes for something, and I gave him everything I had, knowing it would never be enough.
“Jethro, I… I’m so…”
He gripped the back of my neck and tugged me into him. My face found the crook of his neck, and fresh tears sprinkled over his skin. With one hand cradling the pinto horse, I twisted my fingers in his zip-up sweatshirt and sought shelter in the man who had saved my life. It was my choice—it needed to be my choice—but he had offered me a lifeline.
“Why are you back here, Sam?” Jethro’s breathing hitched, and I choked on a broken sob. “Why the fuck are you back here?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Jethro,” I confessed against his throat. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’m so lost.”
Cupping my face, he forced me from my refuge, and our foreheads met. “None of us know what we’re doing or have it all together. Everyone’s fighting through life, trying to make the best of it. We’re all lost, Sam. You’re not alone.”
“I feel alone.”
He guided my hand over his chest, and his heart thumped against my palm beneath his ribcage. “I’m right here. You’re not alone.”
“I’m sorry, so sorry.”
“I know.” Our noses brushed, and I fought the urge to taste his lips. He’d probably punch me. “I am, too. I will never regret stopping last night and pulling you down. No matter what.”
“And I’ll never stop thanking you for it.”
We stood like that for a long time, brow to brow, my palm blanketing Jethro’s heart. The moment ended as the first sign of daybreak speared through the clouds, the yellow and orange rays painting the sky with magnificent color. Light pierced through the fog of early morning, clearing the haze, and the beauty washed over me anew. It had been a long time since I’d felt stirred by such a sight. It was gorgeous.
“I’m glad you didn’t jump,” Jethro whispered as he watched the sunrise in awe, the sunlight playing across his captivating features and lighting his hair like liquid gold. His fingers hesitantly slid between mine until they twined together snugly, and my stomach warmed.
“I’m glad you gave me a reason not to.”
He turned, hazel eyes meeting brown, and he smiled as he squeezed my fingers. No words were needed, not now, and I grinned back, the motion becoming more familiar. Our eyes held for a never-ending moment before we simultaneously faced the sunrise again.
For the first time in a very long time, the spark of hope in my chest burst into a roaring flame, heating to boiling point. I’d been cold for so long, but no longer. I wanted to chase the fire, to feel everything. I wanted to live.
As the first rays of the new year bathed my body in light and warmth, I smiled and released a heavy sigh. I wanted to go home, climb into bed, and take a long nap. And when I woke, I hoped Jethro would let me take him on a date. I needed to buy him dinner, and then, if I was lucky, we would make out in his backseat. Maybe I would blunder my way through my first ever blowjob. Hopefully, I would experience the feel of him beneath me again. He had given me a taste, whiskey-soaked and sublime, and I feared I would never get enough.
I wasn’t one to believe in luck or even divine intervention, but every once in a while, I would get a gut instinct about some things. And in this moment, I had a hunch. I had a feeling today was going to be a very, very good day.
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The End
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Resources
To anyone struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you are not alone! We can overcome together.
1-800-273-8255
www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org
About the Author
Nikole Knight is a born and bred Hoosier living in a top-secret location in Europe. She’s the lone female in the house, unless you count the dog, and she writes love in all its forms, unshackled and freed.
When she isn’t racing after a half-naked toddler or arguing with a child’s logic, Nikole can be found in her writing nook, typing away as her fingers turn to nubs.
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Contact Nikole Knight: nikoleknightbooks@gmail.com
Also by Nikole Knight
Far From Ruined:
Every Broken Thing
Every Hidden Truth
Every Mended Heart (TBA)
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Fire & Brimstone:
Revelations
Sacrifice
Illusion (Coming Soon)
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Stand-Alone Novels:
The Death Games
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Short Stories:
The Night We Met