Too Close to Resist

by Nicole Helm

  Something like hope. Hope that Grace might forgive him. Hope that maybe he could be worthy of that forgiveness.

  It couldn’t be possible. But here he was, a job he loved, a business he part owned, a woman who loved him as much as he loved her. It was a life he’d never dreamed of; even in those first years of being away from his parents, he’d never dreamed he could have this.

  So maybe he’d ruined it, but at the same time...maybe he hadn’t. And maybe it was okay to hope for that.

  * * *

  LEAH PULLED THE truck up in front of her house. In the dark, Grace couldn’t make out anything except a little orange porch light.

  Wordlessly, Grace followed Leah inside. She hadn’t told Leah why she was here yet, why she’d asked her to come pick her up. She’d spent the rest of the afternoon trying to wrap her mind around everything, but she hadn’t been able to put any of it into words.

  “Come on inside. Mi casa is su casa and all that.”

  Grace swallowed at the perpetual lump in her throat as she stepped into Leah’s cluttered entryway. “Thanks.”

  “So am I going to get the lowdown? I’m guessing it’s not life and death. If it was anything like that you would have told me up front, right?”

  “Not life and death,” Grace managed. Just her heart, and trying to figure out where exactly her heart was trying to lead her. “Kyle...” She couldn’t push out the rest of the sentence, whatever it was going to be.

  “Come on.” Leah pulled her farther into the house, past a living room piled high with an odd assortment of furniture, lamps, picture frames, magazines and piles of papers, and into an equally cluttered kitchen.

  “Sit,” Leah instructed, pointing to a table thankfully clear of debris, except a pile of mail. Leah slid into a seat across from Grace, knocking the pile over with her elbow. Underneath, a set of keys winked in the bright light of the fixture above. “There they are,” Leah muttered. “Jacob doesn’t have to kill me.” She shook her head. “So anyway, important stuff. What’d the jerk do?”

  “Susan didn’t tell you anything about this afternoon?”

  “She texted me, but I was on a job and then you called right after and I haven’t had a chance to call her back. Is it really that bad?”

  “I...” Again, words failed her. “I think Kyle and I are breaking up, maybe.” Breaking up. Her last breakup had ended in a coma, so this being unsure was a step up. Probably.

  “Well, shit.”

  Grace rested her forehead on the table, fighting back tears. “I keep thinking I should. I should break up with him. This is too much, but...” Her voice broke, the lump in her throat taking over.

  “You know what? I’m going to call Kelly and Susan. They’re better at this stuff. Especially if you’re going to cry. I’m really bad with other people crying.”

  Grace lifted her head, blinking back the tears. “No, don’t do that. I don’t want to bother anyone else. You know what, I’ll just go—”

  “No, no, no. I can do comfort.” Leah nodded resolutely. “Sure I can,” she added, sounding not at all sure. “First up, ice cream.” She hopped up and over to the freezer. “Of course I have ice cream, but it’s soy.”

  Touched that Leah was trying for her sake, Grace wrinkled her nose. “I might be breaking up with the only guy I’ve ever loved and you’re offering me soy ice cream.”

  Leah laughed, some of her obvious discomfort eased by Grace’s joke. “Sorry. I’m lactose intolerant. What else is good breakup comfort food?”

  “Chocolate?”

  Leah winced. “I’m allergic to most chocolate.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I know. To be on the safe side, just assume I’m allergic to anything delicious. Oh, except wine! I have wine.” She opened the fridge, rummaged around until she pulled out a bottle of white wine. “Here. Perfect.”

  “I appreciate you trying to be nice, but—”

  “Shut up and drink the wine.” Leah got a corkscrew out of a drawer, paused. “Wait. Forget I told you to shut up. Pretend I said something really sensitive and helpful.” Leah worked at opening the wine, then pouring it. She handed Grace a glass with Sylvester and Tweety Bird on it.

  Grace almost laughed. Wine in a cartoon glass. Well, what did she think adulthood was going to be like?

  “Okay, so what do you want to do? The whole detail-by-detail rehash? The burn-his-stuff-in-effigy route? Or, my personal favorite, let’s pretend it didn’t happen and act like everything is normal. Your choice.”

  This time, Grace actually did laugh. Maybe her romantic life was doomed to be one disaster after another, but at least her platonic friendships could work. “Can we just sit here for a few minutes?”

  “You got it.”

  After about five seconds, Leah was fidgeting, her wine untouched. “You keep saying might. Does that mean it’s not a done deal?”

  The little bubble of almost okayness burst. “I don’t know. I...don’t know what to do.”

  “I’ll admit, coming to me for advice might not have been your best option. Love is so not my forte.”

  “I just needed to talk to someone impartial, I guess.” Grace sipped at the tart wine. Was that what she’d been looking for? She didn’t know. She’d just known she needed to talk to someone, to get some distance and perspective, and her family... She couldn’t burden them with this.

  Or was she just afraid of what they might say? About Kyle. About her. About Barry still being out there and her worrying over breaking up with her boyfriend.

  “I’m not impartial. I like you both. And I liked you both together. Unless he did something totally hideous. Then I hate him and we can go mess up his files or something that will give him an aneurysm.”

  “He... His dad showed up and they got in a fight.”

  “Like an argument or—”

  “Kyle punched him. Hard. There was blood and nasty words and I’m not sure I can be with someone...capable of that.”

  “I didn’t know Kyle was capable of that.”

  Grace gripped her glass. She hadn’t known it either, hadn’t imagined he could get that...angry. Sure, she’d seen flashes of temper, but nothing that even hinted at violence. Nothing that had ever once scared her.

  But today had scared her. In a way she didn’t understand. She’d been scared. Not of him or that he might hurt her, but scared. Just scared.

  Because there had been violence in him today. Brief, but harsh and real. Perhaps if she hadn’t dealt with what Barry had done to her, it wouldn’t have affected her so much. His dad had been baiting him, pressing buttons, making everything so much worse.

  What kind of person took pleasure in that? In doing that to his own son? Tony Clark was the real villain here. And he’d deserved that blow. Deserved Kyle’s knocking him that hard. Deserved the blood dribbling out of his mouth.

  Or was that love talking?

  “So why’d they get in a fight? I can’t imagine Kyle going up and punching him for no reason.”

  “His dad was being an asshole. He told me to turn around so he could see my ass.”

  “Kyle’s dad? Jesus, that’s gross. I figured Kyle came from two pod people just like him.”

  Grace shook her head. “He had a very rough childhood.”

  “Are you trying to excuse him?”

  “I’m trying to...” Grace stared at the cartoon on her glass, but she couldn’t stare hard enough to ignore the hurt. “I don’t want to lose him. I love him.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “He said his dad always does this to him, and that it’ll happen again no matter what. And he doesn’t want me to live with that.” Which still bothered her; she wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Kyle was making that decision, not her.

  “Well, sure, but what do you want to live with
?”

  Grace blinked at Leah. It was like the sky had opened up and shone down all the right answers in that moment. Grace grabbed Leah’s hand and squeezed. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For making it about me.”

  “Well, of course it’s about you. It’s your life, isn’t it?” Leah tugged her hand away.

  Her life. To do what she pleased, no matter how many times the universe yanked her off a path. “It damn well is.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  LEAH PULLED THE truck up to the back entrance of MC. “You can stay at my house if you want. I know there’s no alarm, but there’s a lock and you’ve got your gun. I mean, if you really don’t want to be here, it’s not the worst option.”

  “No, I’m good. Thanks for letting me spend the night.”

  Leah glanced at her watch. “Anytime. I’ve gotta get going, though. If I’m late, I’m pretty sure your brother’s head will explode.”

  Grace grabbed her bag and hopped out of the truck, offering Leah a wave. She wasn’t 100 percent sure what she was going to do about Kyle, but she wasn’t going to hide out at Leah’s all day. She was going to face the problem head-on.

  They needed to talk. She couldn’t believe this was just it. His dad would pop up and he would be violent and that was what was keeping them apart. There had to be a compromise, some way to work around it. As much as it scared her to see Kyle punch someone, wouldn’t she have done the same in his position?

  That was what she kept working around to. She’d been a victim of violence, yes, and it made her wary of it. She dug her keys out of her bag, waved at Leah again as she idled waiting for Grace to get inside. A very unwelcome reminder that Barry was still out there, might always be.

  The threat of violence might always be on her doorstep, and that was what Kyle was living with, too. Yes, it was his own, but it was brought on by a man who was supposed to love and protect him. Not goad and torment him.

  But then there was the bottom line she couldn’t find a way to see past. No matter how much she understood why Kyle had punched his father, had held a gun to him years ago, she couldn’t be okay with having to witness it repeatedly. Once was more than enough.

  If I couldn’t stop myself for you, in front of you, nothing can stop it.

  His words ringing in her head made everything in her chest heavy and achy. The hopelessness of it all, the barely restrained tears in his voice when he’d uttered those words. She didn’t understand how he could not want to be that man and yet feel powerless to fight it.

  She didn’t understand any of it, even with all the little parts she did. And yet when he’d asked her how she could want to be with someone who reminded her of the worst day of her life, all she could think was she’d always be reminded, and Kyle gave her so much more than he took away.

  Could it be that simple? He gave more than he hurt, and that was what she wanted so that was what she’d have? That was what felt right. Walking away, ending what was between them didn’t feel right no matter what the future might hold.

  She was so tired of the negative possibilities of the future ruining her present. So she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

  The honk made her jump. “Hey, Dawdly McGee, I have to make this meeting. Can you please get inside?” Leah yelled out her window.

  Grace pushed the door open, gave Leah one final wave as Leah finally drove off. Before she could fully step inside and close the door behind her, she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

  “Grace.”

  Her bag dropped as she whirled around to see Barry standing in the alley behind her. He looked disheveled but calm. Half his body was hiding behind the far end of the shack where the garbage cans were kept. Grace’s eyes darted to the drive, but all she could see was the back of Leah’s truck moving farther away.

  Grace closed her eyes, willed away the hallucination. But she’d never heard a hallucination before. Her eyes popped open and she whimpered.

  He was still there. He was real.

  “Stay away from me.” She slammed the storm door shut, but her bag, her gun, her phone were on the stoop where they’d fallen off when she’d whirled around.

  “I just want to talk.” Barry moved toward the door, toward her. His hands were empty, but she knew exactly the kind of damage he could do with those hands. “If we talk, no one has to get hurt. You messed up my life, but I’m willing to let that go if you just come with me.”

  “Stay away from me,” she repeated, doing everything in her power to sound steady and calm. Her hands shook, but she inched the storm door open enough to stick her arm through. Keeping an eye on Barry’s slowly advancing form, she groped for her bag.

  “Please, if you just talk to me, nothing else bad has to happen. You just tell the police I didn’t do anything and everything will be okay. I’ve got it all figured out.”

  He was walking steadily toward the door, his words and face so eerily calm. The calm did not rub off on her. Her hand hit her bag and she all but sobbed, snatching it in through the opening.

  Gun? Phone? No, more important was getting the main door to close, to have a locked barrier between him and her.

  Her hands shook, her whole body shook, tears made her vision swim, but she managed to get the thick main door closed and locked. Shaking too hard to remain upright, she slid into a sitting position, pulling her gun out with one hand and her phone with the other.

  “Grace?” This time a woman’s voice, and then Susan’s face wavered into her vision. “Grace, what is it?”

  “Can you call the police for me, please?” Grace managed to choke out. Hurry, her mind insisted, but she was so fractured she didn’t realize Susan couldn’t hear the inner workings of her brain.

  Susan took the phone from her hands and began dialing. “Tell me what happened.”

  Grace managed to get it all out, and winced as Susan related the information to the 911 operator.

  She wanted to believe it was over, it was finally really over, but she knew better.

  None of it, not one second of it, would ever be over.

  * * *

  KYLE’S HEART POUNDED so hard in his ears he didn’t even hear his tires screech to a halt. Jacob’s call had told him everything he needed to know, and yet he couldn’t shake this horrible feeling until he saw her. Held her.

  Not your place, you idiot. Well, he didn’t care what his place was. He’d planned meetings away from MC all day to give her space, and this happened.

  Fuck him. Fuck Barry. Fuck every damn thing.

  He burst into the house from the back entrance. Jacob, Henry, Kelly, Susan and Leah sat at the table with mugs of coffee. Both Leah and Susan looked as if they’d been crying; Jacob was pale and wore a grave frown. All of them exchanged glances before anyone ventured to speak.

  “Talking to the police was very draining for her. She needs to rest, and you obviously need to calm down.”

  Kyle ignored Kelly and took the steps up to Grace’s room two at a time.

  “She’s napping,” Jacob called after him. “Give her time.”

  He knew he should care. After the ordeal she’d been through, after everything he’d done, she deserved to rest and not have to deal with him, but, by God, he couldn’t stand there and not see her. Not hold her. Not be assured by the presence of her that she was okay.

  Outside her bedroom door, he managed to work up enough control to stop himself. Take a breath. He would just take a peek. If she was sleeping, he’d step out and sit in the hall until she woke up.

  And then he’d what?

  Damn it, it didn’t matter. It couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to function until he saw with his own two eyes that she was safe, until he could hear her tell him she was fine and he could go to hell.

  Another deep breath. Steady hand.
He twisted the knob, pushed the door open enough to stick his head through.

  Grace was in bed, all huddled under the covers, but her eyes weren’t closed. They landed right on him.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure I’m the last person you want to see. I just...” Just what? Had to be selfish and self-serving and completely insensitive to her feelings? Yeah, that all sounded about right. “I had to see...you’re okay.” His voice broke; something stung his eyes. This was all wrong, but she was there. Here. Okay.

  She sat up in bed, staring at him. Not with anger or fear or anything he could put a finger on. In fact, he felt as if he was being analyzed more than hated or unwanted.

  “Yes. I’m okay. Can you close the door, please?”

  “Yes, of course.” He was stiff and jerky because all he wanted to do was cross the room and hold her and cry on her shoulder, anything to ease this pressure building in his chest. Anything to feel her and know she really was unscathed.

  Instead he stood with his back to the now closed door. “You did want me to stay on this side of it, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  She got out of bed and crossed to him.

  Maybe it was wrong, but fuck it. He took the last two steps between them and wrapped his arms around her, pulled her against him, kissed her cheek and her forehead, let his hands run over her hair.

  The tear that escaped was a desperate reminder of how much she meant to him, how much he didn’t want to lose that. “Tell me to go if you want me to. I will. I just had to know that you were okay, you were safe. I’ll go. If you want me to.”

  “And if I want you to stay?” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder, and even as he forced himself to loosen his hold, she stayed. Stayed pressed to him, her arms around his waist.

  What if I want you to stay?

  “I’m yours, Grace. I’ll do whatever you want.” Anything she wanted. Anytime. He tried to loosen his grip all the way, but he couldn’t make himself do it. She was safe in his arms and he’d keep her here until she made him stop.