by E. K. Blair
“What’s this for?”
“A reminder,” I say as I take her hand off the tattoo that covers my scar and hold it to my chest. “Like I said, my dad was an asshole.” Her eyes shift up and meet mine when I continue, “He was a drunk and liked to take his anger out on me and my mom. I took more of it than she did. The drunker he was, the worse it would get. He was like that for as far back as I can remember. It was all I knew. Then one night, I beat the shit out of him when he was wasted, and when he got in his car and left, he never came back. His car was found wrapped around a tree, and that was it. He was dead.”
The look on her face is beyond disbelief, so I pull her in tighter, knowing that was probably the last thing she expected me to say. It was a couple months after the funeral that I didn’t attend when I got the words Pain is a reminder you’re still alive tattooed over the scar that he gave me. But after all the hell he inflicted on me, I’m the one that’s still breathing.
I don’t know how else to show this girl that she can trust me and not be so closed off like she’s always been with me. I need her to know that I trust her, so I let her know, “You’re the only one who knows that, outside of my mom and me.”
“I feel really stupid,” she mumbles as she closes her eyes. “I’m so sorry about complaining about my parents.”
“Candace, you’re far from stupid,” I say when I run my hand along her jaw to urge her to look at me. “Your parents treated you like shit. They filled you full of misconceptions of yourself and fucked with your head. Anyone would be devastated. Don’t dismiss your pain because you don’t think it’s worthy. It is.”
She takes a moment after I tell her this and looks at me. I know she acknowledges my words when she reaches up and threads her hands in my hair, drawing me in to kiss her. I slide down to meet her face to face, and I take her lips with mine. Bracing my body over hers, I soak in the heat of her as I run my mouth down her smooth neck, taking my time, nipping her gently along the way. When I start taking little sucks across her collarbone, she uses her hands to guide my face back up to her lips.
I know she’s scared to move fast, she told me this earlier, so I go at her pace. Taking one of her hands off my cheek, I slide my fingers between hers and hold her hand as I move past her lips and explore her mouth. I grip her hand tightly, pressing it into the mattress, and I’m finding it hard to not want to take her, feel her breasts, run my hands up her thighs. My thoughts intensify, and I slow down, pulling back. Her face is slightly flushed, and I finally notice how strong her hold is on my hand.
“I could do this all night.” I lean my forehead against hers, and she closes her eyes, keeping them shut until I say, “Look at me, Candace.”
It takes her a second before she opens her eyes and peers up at me.
“Tell me why you’re nervous with me.”
“Ryan,” she whispers and turns her head to the side to break the contact.
“Tell me,” I say, needing her to just give me a small piece of what’s going on inside of her head.
She moves to look at me again and starts, “Because . . .”
“Because why?”
“Because this is new for me,” she finally reveals.
I don’t respond, I simply smile down at her, and I can feel her start to relax.
The smile on her face is perfect, and when I catch her dimple, I finally take what I’ve been wanting and lean down to kiss it before I lie next to her and band my arms around her.
I watch as she begins to wake up. She clutches the blankets around her, eyes still closed and shimmies herself further down into the bed. She did the same thing yesterday morning at my mom’s house. I reach down and pull her back up to me, and she starts blinking her eyes open when I begin to run my hands up and down her back, attempting to warm her up.
“Hey,” she mumbles as she scoots in closer to me.
“Why don’t you wear something warmer if you’re always so cold?”
“I’ve tried, but it’s hard for me to sleep when I wear heavy clothes,” she says.
“I’m not gonna lie,” I tell her. “I think I would prefer you cuddling into me like this every morning.”
Tilting her head away from my chest, she questions, “Every morning?”
“You know I’m gonna want you back here.”
When she leans her forehead against my chin, she begins to nervously mutter, “I’m not . . . I mean, I don’t know if . . .”
“Candace,” I say to get her to stop. “I like having you next to me at night. I won’t push, if that’s worrying you.”
She doesn’t move her head away from me when she says, “I’m not sure what you’re used to, but—”
“Just give me a couple days a week,” I tell her to calm her nerves about moving too fast.
She nods her head, and I don’t say anything else. We lie together with no words, and I enjoy the touch of her body against mine until we finally decide to crawl out of bed.
We spend a slow morning downstairs, drinking coffee and hanging out. I want to ask her about how she’s feeling with her parents, but I decide to hold off because I don’t want to upset her. So instead, I flip on the TV and we kick back on the couch. Just another excuse to have my arms around her.
Candace stayed over with me a couple more times this past week. Jase is back in town, so she’s been spending time with him and a lot of time at the dance studio to get in some solo rehearsals before classes start back up next week. Work has been a little busier with the quarter break ending and students coming back into town, so Candace and I have been snagging time together for a few morning runs. Jase picked her up earlier today to hang out, so I’ll stop by his apartment to pick her up after I get off work tonight.
When I walk into the bar, I spot Mel and Max and head over. The other bartenders have everything under control, so I take a seat next to Max to catch up since he took the past week off.
“Good to see you back up here,” I tell him. “How was your Christmas?”
“I got to meet all of Traci’s family.”
“Yeah? How’d that go?”
“Cut the small talk and just tell him,” Mel pipes in as she leans her elbows on the bar.
“Tell me what?” I ask.
“She’s pregnant,” he says to me with a straight face, and I can’t tell if he’s happy about this or not.
“Is this good news or bad news?” I ask him.
Setting his drink down, he admits, “I don’t know. It’s shocking news.”
“How does she feel about it?”
“Scared. It wasn’t something we had even talked about, and now here we are, not sure what this means for us.”
“You two just need to talk and be honest with each other,” Mel tells him.
“Like you talk to Zane?” he responds with a chuckle.
She smiles and holds her hands up, surrendering, “Hey, I never take my own advice, I just dish it out.”
“Have you heard from him?” I ask her.
“He came home for a couple of days, but it was awkward. All he can talk about is how happy he is in L.A. How happy he is to finally be recording an album. He’s my husband, and I’m clueless to what his life is like out there.”
“You’re choosing to be clueless,” Max tells her. “You could easily pack your shit up and be with him.”
“He doesn’t want me to be. He told me that before he moved there.”
Max looks over to me, surprised about that little fact that Mel had told me about when it happened. I haven’t talked to Zane since he left, so I don’t have any idea what’s going on with him.
“Enough of our shit. How did everything with Candace go?” Max asks and immediately Mel’s eyes widen. I’ve never mentioned anything about this to her.
“Who’s Candace?”
“A friend,” I cautiously tell her, but my words are deceived when I see the look Max is giving me.
“You lie,” she says to me. “I’m your only female friend. Have been for the past f
our years.”
I keep a straight face, not sure what to say about Candace, and she picks up on my seriousness when she says, “I knew something was going on.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just been noticing your moods these past few months. You’re quiet. Well, more than usual,” she laughs softly. “Your distance with Gavin, girls . . .” she shrugs her shoulders and adds, “Everything really. So who is this chick?”
“A friend of Jase and Mark’s,” I tell her and then turn to Max to answer his original question. He knew I was taking her home with me for Christmas, so I tell him, “It went better than expected.”
“It wasn’t too awkward?”
“What are we talking about?” Mel questions.
“I took her to Oregon.”
“What the hell have I missed? You took her to meet your family?” she nearly squeals.
“And no,” I say as I turn back to Max. “It wasn’t awkward.”
“So things are good with you two?” he asks.
“Yeah, man. Things are perfect.”
Laughing, Mel says, “How ironic, out of the three of us, Ryan is the one without any hang-ups.” She turns to grab a bottle of beer and then says, “I need a drink,” before walking away.
I spend most of the night in my office going over supply orders and inventory, double-checking Michael’s work to make sure he’s handling his shit. I’m not seeing anything out of place, so I call it a night around ten o’clock and head over to Jase’s.
When he opens the door, I see Candace lying on his couch.
“She’s passed out,” Jase tells me. “She’s been tired all night.”
“What did you guys do?”
“Mark came over for a while and we had dinner. Just hung out though,” he says as I walk around the couch to see her sleeping under a blanket.
Sitting down next to her, I lift her head into my lap and run my hand through her hair, telling Jase, “I haven’t seen him since you guys got back from Ohio.”
He sits down in the chair and watches my hand in her hair before shifting his eyes to me, explaining, “He’s been working on some new songs, so he’s been busy. Why don’t you meet up with us tomorrow before we head up to the bar?”
“I can’t. I’ve got to be there early, but I’ll catch up with you guys later,” I say as Candace begins to stir and wake up.
Her eyes open as she rolls her head to look up at me. “What’s going on?” she mumbles as she sits up.
“Nothing. Just got here.”
She lets out a yawn and lazily leans into me, asking Jase, “What’re you guys talking about?”
“Mark’s gig at the bar tomorrow.”
Giving her arm a soft squeeze, I suggest, “You should come.”
“Umm . . .”
Jase laughs at her and says, “Just come. You still have never heard Mark play. It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t know.”
“We’ll all be there,” he says, trying to convince her.
She keeps her eyes on Jase, and when he gives her a nod and says, “Come on. One night,” she gives in to him.
“Okay. Fine,” she sighs, and I watch as Jase gets an almost victorious smile on his face, not understanding why it’s such a big deal for her to go out.
“Wipe that smile off your face, Jase,” she scolds with humor. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Before their banter can continue, I say, “Come on, babe. Let’s go. It’s getting late,” as I stand up and take her hand.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” Jase tells her and she walks over to hug him goodbye. “I’ll call you.”
“Night, Jase,” she says.
“Bye, guys.”
We take the elevator down and she asks, “Why is Jase picking me up and not you?”
“I have to be there early to get some work done so I can take the night off and not have to worry about going in too much this next week. But I’ll be there when you and Jase get there.”
When the elevator opens, we step out to go back to my place for the night.
“Ryan, how’ve you been?” Mark says when he walks in with Chasten, the drummer of the band.
“Good, man. How was Ohio?”
“Great. We got a ton of snow, so we were stuck at the house for a couple of days, but we survived,” he chuckles.
“Survived?”
“If you knew the women in my family, you’d be scared to be cooped up with them during a snow storm. Luckily, my sisters are like a fresh new toy for Jase, so he just sits back and laughs at their shit while I try and find a way to escape it.”
“So I take it you’re glad to be back then,” I tease.
“Yeah. Oh, hey, Jase said Candace was coming up here tonight. Is that true?”
“Is there something I should know about Candace that I’m not getting?” I ask as I follow him over to the stage so he can start setting up with the guys.
“What do you mean?”
“Why don’t you tell me why you’re so surprised by the fact that she’s coming here?” I question. Maybe I shouldn’t, but curiosity gets me.
He sets his guitar down and then turns to me. “Candace likes to avoid crowded places.”
“I get that. I just can’t figure out why,” I tell him, hoping he’ll throw me a clue, but he doesn’t.
“She’s slow to open up, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that,” he says.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Just be patient with her.” He leaves it at that, and I accept the advice because that’s all I can do. I wanna get into my girl’s head and unfold everything inside. Patience isn’t my strong suit, but it’s the only hand I have to play with her.
I go upstairs to get a few files from Michael’s desk, and when I walk in, I look out his large window that overlooks the back lot and see Jase’s SUV as he turns in. I find the files I need and then watch as Candace steps out of the car. God, I’m falling for this girl. I’m wound up just thinking about getting to spend time with her tonight.
Her back is to the building, so I can’t see her face, and I wonder what she’s staring at as she stands there. Jase says something to her but she remains standing next to the dumpsters. When she finally moves, her heel catches on the pavement, and she takes a hard fall onto her bottom. As soon as she hits the ground, I watch, numb, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. She’s freaking out, frantically stumbling back on her hands. Jase rushes over and huddles down in front of her, picking her up, and I can faintly hear her screaming.
I snap out of my trance. Tossing the files, I run down the stairs and fly out the back door to see the both of them back in Jase’s car. Candace is crying and screaming, and I stand there in near shock, confused as hell by what just happened. As her eyes find mine, she throws her hands against the dash and yells at him hysterically as he peels out of the parking lot.
“Candace!” I yell after her as the car pops the curb when Jase hits the main street.
She’s gone, and I don’t have a clue what the hell is going on, but I’m freaked out at what I just saw. I don’t even think about going back in, I just take the keys that are in my pocket to go to the one place I know she’ll be.
While I drive to Jase’s apartment building, hitting every damn red light, I replay what happened and try to figure out what she saw that triggered her like that. I pull up to the building and throw my car in park when it hits me.
Holy shit.
Chills prick my arms, and I swear my gut hollows out when the memory of that night floods me.
Oh my God.
She was standing right there. She’s small. She’s timid. Scared.
No. Get your shit together. It’s not her.
My mind is racing faster than I’m able to keep up with. I feel like I’m out of my body and can’t decipher reality from my fucked up head-trips. If Candace was her, I would know.
I would know, right?
I sit in my car as I feel my emotions swarm into a rotation of vision
s I wish I could just forget. All I can see is that girl. Her beaten face, her naked, bloody body.
“Fuck!” I slam my fists into the steering wheel, desperately trying to rid the memories, but they’re too vivid. I don’t even want to think about that girl being Candace. It’s too fucked up. Pressing my palms against my forehead, I attempt to pull myself together. I know Candace is with Jase, and I just want her to be with me.
Pressing my head back against the seat, I squeeze my eyes shut and attempt to refocus on the fact that Candace is upset and that I need to get my shit together and quick. I take a few moments and sit here in silence before I finally get out of my car.
On the elevator ride up, I take some deep breaths, and calm myself before I knock on the door. When Jase opens it, he immediately tells me, “Man, it’s not a good time.”
But I don’t care. I just want her. “Where is she?” I ask as I move past him and start walking to his bedroom when I see she isn’t in his living room.
“Ryan, just give her space,” he yells out to me, but I don’t even acknowledge him when I open the door to his room and see my girl sitting on the edge of the bed sobbing.
The sight of her slows me down—stops me. She looks up, and her face is soaked with tears. I feel like the slightest move on my part could snap her, so I gently shut the door behind me and walk over, kneeling on the ground in front of her. I brace my hands on her knees, and I’m at a loss with her. Confused. But she doesn’t let me dwell on it when she opens her mouth and begins to cry out, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Ryan. I’m . . .”