by Rebel Farris
I’m barely holding on myself. Being in hospitals brings back so many dark memories. I know why they don’t sell hospital cleaning supplies to the general public—no one would buy them. That smell has to be host to so many horrific memories.
Dex’s hair is wild. He’s been running his hands through it nonstop since we got here.
“Dexter McClellan?” a doctor calls. He’s wearing green scrubs, while a surgeon’s mask hangs loosely around his neck.
“I’m him,” Dex answers, walking to meet him.
“He made it through surgery, but he’s still not out of the woods,” the doctor says, placing a comforting hand on Dex’s shoulder. “You can go back and see him, but only one at a time.”
Dex asks a few questions, and the doctor answers them, leaving Dex with directions to Marcus’s room. When he turns his eyes to me, they look haunted, pleading.
“Go to him,” I say. “He needs your strength right now. I’ll be fine.”
He nods absently. I watch him walk down the hall to the all-too-familiar doors leading into the ICU. They slide open silently in front of him, and he disappears inside.
I go to Holly in his absence. Stroking her hair as she curls into my shoulder, I ask the question that has been stuck in my mind since we left the Black Building.
“What happened?”
She’s silent for a moment. “Some sick son of a bitch. It all happened fuckin’ fast. I didn’t see his face. The fucker grabbed me. Started dragging me toward the emergency exit. Marcus tackled him. Then the shots.” She blinks, shaking her head. “Marcus didn’t bleed like I expected him to. We were stepped on. People were panicking to get out. There were just dark holes in his shirt. His eyes rolled back in his head. So pale.”
A sob wrenches from her mouth. Her body is trembling again.
“He was after you?” I ask, tears welling in my eyes.
My heart was breaking for her, with her, because of her.
“Yeah,” she chokes out.
Fuck. He’s trying to hurt me through my friends. We hear a commotion down the hall, doctors and nurses rushing into the ICU.
“Dawn,” I say turning my attention back to my friends. “When you leave here, take her back to your place. I think it’s safer for all of you to be in the Black Building right now. I can’t—”
Dawn takes my hand with a nod. “Of course, we’ll stay safe. But you need to, too.”
Dex stumbles out of the ICU, interrupting my reply. He leans against the wall, pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes before his legs give out and he slides down.
It all happens in slow motion. Or at least it feels like it.
Jumping from my seat, I feel like my feet are stuck in tar. I can’t get to him fast enough. Holly moves with me, but Bridget and Ruby catch her as she falls to her knees. A keening wail that’ll haunt my dreams escapes Holly’s lips. Dex doesn’t look up. His shoulders jerk and I know he’s crying.
My feet falter, and I slide the last few feet to his side. I wrap my arms around him. He pulls me to him and releases a sob. It hurts. His pain is blinding as it ricochets through me. I’ve heard that loving someone means that you feel their pain more fully than your own. At this moment, I know that nothing can be more true.
He doesn’t have to speak. I know. I know that Marcus didn’t make it. Holly knows it, too. And my heart breaks for both of them.
Then
“Did you ever think that maybe you should think twice before accusing your fiancée of cheating on you in a public place? That maybe I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me? And maybe it wasn’t fucking smart to air our dirty laundry for everyone with a fucking cell phone to record?” I said, breaking the long-held silence as I flung the car door open.
I’d kept quiet the entire ride back home, but I was just stewing in my anger. I had to say something, and he was going to hear it. Jared got out of the car, slamming the door. I turned and left the garage. He followed me after hitting the button to close the garage door.
“No reason?” He spat the words at me. “Every time you’re near him I have reason to doubt you. You’ve never seen that type of longing on my face for anyone.”
“Oh, please.” I stopped and turned to face him. “I’ve seen him a total of three times over the last three years. Two of which you were there for, and the other time, four other people were there who each told you that nothing fucking happened.” I turned back to the house and kept walking.
“Those were the only times I found out about. There could be more. There probably is; otherwise, why the fuck is he still hanging onto hope after three fucking years!” His voice held a slightly hysterical tone.
“I don’t know what his problem is, but that’s just it. It’s his problem.”
I unlocked the door and went into the house. He followed me, shutting off the alarm.
“You still haven’t explained why you two were in the bathroom together.”
“That’s because, one, you never fucking asked. And two, you haven’t even given me a chance. You just flew off the fucking handle. And I can deal with your PTSD bullshit, but when you start accusing me of shit without so much as a second to explain, that’s too fucking much to handle.”
“Then explain it to me now, Maddie.”
“Why bother? It crystal fucking clear that you have such a low opinion of me that no matter what I say, you won’t believe me. Why are you even with me if this is how you feel?”
“Or maybe you have something to hide?”
“Or maybe you’re just a jealous asshole,” I said, turning around and leaning toward him, “because you know deep down that he was a way better fuck than you. He wasn’t satisfied focusing on what made him happy. He took the time to get to know me, and he knows parts of me that you’ll never know because he wasn’t a selfish dick—”
The room exploded into stars as his hand cracked across my face. Tears sprang from my eyes unbidden, and my body reacted out of instinct as I moved to take him down to the ground where I’d a better chance of fighting back. I’m not sure why I wasn’t prepared for his countermove, but it still caught me off guard. I lost my footing and fell backward. I twisted to catch myself but wasn’t quick enough, and my cheekbone slammed hard into the edge of the coffee table.
I sat there, stunned for a second, before he came at me again. I met his momentum with the heel of my palm to his nose. He fell back, and I took the opening to wrap my legs around his waist, but before I could get a lock on his arms, his head flew back as he bucked and nailed me in the forehead. I dropped back as black spots floated in my vision. He twisted around, and his hands wrapped around my neck, cutting off my air.
His eyes were vacant as if he wasn’t seeing me as I clawed at him.
“Jared,” I managed to croak out with a gasp.
His eyes refocused and his hands were gone from my neck as his jaw dropped. He crab-crawled backward away from me.
“Maddie—fuck—I’m sorry—” He clawed at his head, pulling on his hair. A sob tore through him. “What the fuck am I doing, Maddie? What’s wrong with me?”
I fought to catch my breath, my throat tight. “Get out,” I wheezed.
“Maddie, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t know—I thought I was there.”
“You need help, but I can’t give it to you. We—I can’t.” I pulled his ring off my finger and tossed it toward him. “I won’t marry you until you get better. If that ever happens.”
“Fuck, please don’t do this.” He crawled back toward me, and I cringed away from him. He hesitated. “I didn’t mean to do it. I swear, I’ll get help. I’ll go to a live-in clinic for however long. Just, please don’t give up on me—on us.”
“I don’t want you near the girls either.” I closed my eyes to shut out the vision of his pleading eyes.
“Maddie—”
“I don’t want to hear anything else from you. You’re dangerous, Jared. You could’ve killed me. You need to leave. Ri
ght. Fucking. Now!” I yelled as loud as my voice would go. It was coarse and choked sounding, even to my own ears.
He sobbed again, “I can’t live without you. I need you, please.”
“Get out!” I used every last bit of energy and vocal capacity that was left in me to scream those words at him.
He didn’t say another word as he got up and left the house.
I didn’t move, just leaned back against the couch and let the tears roll down my face. What the hell did I do to deserve this? Where did we go fucking wrong? We were happy once. And I know I said shit that I shouldn’t have said. But we couldn’t continue like this. I was becoming someone I didn’t recognize anymore. And I was beginning to fear that next time—if I let there be a next time—he would kill me.
Now
Dex wants to hide me. He says it’s because he needs me even more, now that he lost his best friend. My heart is broken for him. For Holly. Holly is devastated. They took her to Dawn’s place in the Black Building. It’s secure enough to keep them safe. Everyone is on lockdown.
Dex, however, decides he’s taking me to his dad’s place. He’s back to not talking, but I think he’s insistent because he needs Audra, too. Which is sweet, even if I’m not entirely sure it’s a great idea. I’m a walking target. People in my orbit are getting hurt and even dying.
Part of me wants to jump out of the car and just run away. Let the bad man have me, keep everyone else safe. Then the more rational part connects this to fear of meeting his father. The asshole who abandoned him and his mother. I already don’t like the dick, so I doubt this will go over well.
The drive there is long. Not because it’s far away, but because he’s been driving in circles and twists, making sure no one is following us. It’s given me too much time to waffle between the jumping and the staying.
It helps that Dex has tethered me. Our fingers intertwine on my lap. “On the Vista” by Blakroc plays over the radio from Dex’s phone. The melancholy beats fit the mood, perhaps even set it.
We pull up outside the sprawling ranch house in the heart of a gated community. This place is money. Dex parks behind a blue rental car on the circle drive. The driveway is long, winding its way to a three-car garage. Two motorcycles sit under fitted covers in front of one of the garage doors, but no other cars are visible.
Dex stares at the house before killing the engine. He’s holding on to me, but he feels so far away. I can’t help myself; I need to close the distance. I slide in between him and the steering wheel, straddling his lap.
“Talk to me,” I whisper in his ear.
He ignores my request and captures my lips with his.
“Dex,” I sigh. “I love you.”
I break the contact and run my fingers over his face, tracing his scar, the beauty marks, his full lips that are darkened from kisses. I want to stare at this face for the rest of my life.
My hair curtains us in. It feels like the world no longer exists. I place his hand over my heart.
“You’re in here. You have a home here. Feel free to hide here from your pain. I’ll always protect you with everything I have, but please don’t hide from me. Don’t pull away.”
“Never,” he says, pulling my face back to his and recapturing my lips. When he breaks away, he continues. “You’re my soul, Maddie. You’re everything that’s good in me. The only light I got left.”
Despite the heavy cloud of death that hangs over us, I find a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.
“We should probably go in, though, and stop making out in front of my dad’s house. It’s a little awkward,” he says, an answering grin fighting for purchase on his face.
I nod, but make no move to get up. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
He pops the handle to his door and helps me climb out. I stare at the house and decide I’m ready. I want to meet his family. I want him to be a part of my family. He’s opening the trunk to get our bags when I walk past him to the door.
There’s a porch that spans almost the full length of the house. I step onto it, looking back to make sure Dex is coming. I poise my hand above the doorbell, but before I can push it, the door swings open.
Broad shoulders and a defined chest fill the frame. My gaze tracks up the muscular build to meet eyes filled with flecks of gold, green, and blue. The world shifts beneath me, and I’m rocked to the core.
“Laine?” that voice asks.
What we did was wrong.
You’re a dead man.
He hurt you.
It was our fault.
Flashes of the past take over all rational thought. My legs give out as darkness flecked with bright spots begin to crowd my vision. I expect to hit the ground, but instead, I’m back in familiar arms again. He catches me, pulling me into his body.
“Law?” The question leaks out of me in a breathless rasp.
Then
I don’t know how long I’d sat there, when the doorbell rang, and my body carried me on autopilot to the door. My mind was wrecked; I couldn’t think straight. I opened the door without even thinking to look at who could be there.
Law stood there, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes trained on the ground. His hair was a mess, and he’d lost the suit coat and tie. His sleeves were rolled up his forearms, exposing his colorful tattoos.
“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted, with both you and him. I’d like to talk to—” He cut off as he looked at me. His eyes went from apologetic to furious in a blink. His hand slammed into the door, and he pushed past me. “Where is he? I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“He’s not here.”
He turned back to me, and his eyes softened. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered as he walked back to where I stood near the doorway.
“You’re not fine. He hurt you.”
He reached up toward my face, and I flinched. He grimaced and gently grasped my chin, brushing his fingertips over my uninjured cheek.
“Where is your first aid kit?”
“In the kitchen. Why?”
“I’m going to clean the blood off your face.”
“I’ve blood on my face?” I asked in disbelief as I reached up to touch my cheek. I winced at the wetness and pulled my hand back, red coating my fingertips.
“Come on,” Law said, shutting the front door. “Take me to the kitchen. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I turned and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the first aid kit and setting it on the counter. Law’s hand covered mine before I could let go. I could feel the heat of his body behind me. He brushed my hair off my shoulder.
“I’m sorry for this. I’m feeling kind of responsible because it wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t an ass. Seems that’s all I ever do with you is fuck up.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, turning back to look up at him. “You were just trying to help. It just turned into a bad situation. This—” I pointed to my face. “This isn’t your fault at all.”
He gripped my hips and hoisted me up onto the counter, so we were closer to eye level with each other.
He looked away to open the first aid kit. “I shouldn’t have let you leave with him when he was obviously—”
“You didn’t let me do anything. This isn’t your problem. We’ve been out of each other’s lives longer than we were ever in them.”
He tore some paper towels off the roll on the counter and wet them. He tilted my chin back with his thumb, his fingers gently curving around the back of my neck. He started wiping my face down, working around the injured parts.
“That’s not true. We may not be physically near, but you’re always with me, Laine. I started fighting for you.” I made a face at him. He gave me a sad smile. “I was always talented in the ring, I just didn’t have the drive. But I wanted to prove myself worthy of you. Make you see me as your equal. A man, not just some punk kid that screwed around with his frien
ds in a garage band. I thought—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. It was bad enough for me to lose you, but then you went and got famous. Now there’s pictures of you in magazines and on the internet. I turn on the TV—I see a story on you. I listen to the radio—hear your songs.” His eyes darted back and forth as he searched my eyes; looking for what, I didn’t know.
“Sorry,” I said, at a loss for what else to say. I looked down at my hand to avoid his inquisitive stare.
He snorted. “Stop being sorry for things you can’t control, Laine.”
I raised one eyebrow at him. “Isn’t this how this conversation started?”
“Touché.” He smirked and that dimple I loved so much appeared. “Still, it’s not going to stop me from feeling like shit for not protecting you.”
He pulled out the hydrogen peroxide. “This might sting a bit,” he said, putting the liquid on a piece of gauze.
It won’t, I thought. But he didn’t know that. He tilted my head back again and with a featherlight touch started cleaning the cut on my cheek. It didn’t take long for the hunger to settle in his eyes.
“Fuck, stop.” I shoved his hand away, annoyed by the tenderness he was showing when I knew I didn’t deserve it.
He chuckled and blew gently on the cut, thinking that it was the pain that bothered me. He gripped my chin a little firmer. “Hold still, I just have a little bit more to clean up. Then we can move on from this.”
He touched the cut again, and I started to bitch about it, but then his mouth was on mine. My open mouth gave him instant access, and his tongue stroked against mine. I was shocked at first, but then the familiarity of his kiss washed over me. I didn’t think; I just reacted and kissed him back.
His hands dove into my hair, and as I responded, his grip on my hair tightened. It had been so long since someone had kissed me like they were suffocating, and I was the air they needed to breathe. So long since someone handled me like they were sure I wouldn’t break under a firm grip. I moaned, the shock of the sound snapping me back to reality, and I pulled away. We stared at each other, our breathing labored.