When the Night is Over (Blackbird Series Book 1)

by Lily Foster

  “Sorry I came by unannounced. I saw the light on.”

  “How was the drive?” I ask, fixing my eyes on the floor.

  “Not too bad.”

  He’s still standing on the threshold, even though I’ve opened the door wide and taken a step back to let him in. When I look up in question, I see that his eyes are fixed on my legs, and realize I’m wearing nothing but a tee and some boy-short undies. Did I do that on purpose too? Probably.

  “Come in. I’ll be right back.”

  “Mind if I grab a beer?”

  “Help yourself,” I call as I make my way upstairs.

  He’s on the couch, eyes closed, hair sticking out in ten different directions when I come back downstairs wearing a bra underneath the tee. I went the extra mile and added a pair of proper shorts too. The bottle of beer is propped against his thigh. I go to reach for it, thinking he’s asleep, but he traps may hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

  “I’m awake.”

  “It looked like you were passed out cold.”

  “I’m surprised you’re still awake.”

  “I guess I was waiting on you.”

  “I’ll head over to the cabin now if you want to turn in. I just thought...Well, I was hoping that maybe if you were still up then we could talk.”

  I nod, my throat suddenly tight and constricted. There’s so much to say that I don’t know where to start. I take a seat on the couch, leaving a comfortable space between us. Simon closes his eyes again.

  “I tried to find you, Charlotte, but obviously I didn’t try hard enough. I didn’t see a future for us back then. I wasn’t coming back, and you had two more years before you could get out. Two years is a long time. I told myself it was better that way, to cut ties. Then you’d be able to move on.” He shakes his head, eyes still closed. “I suffered for it. There were nights I couldn’t sleep just thinking about you. I missed you more than I ever could have imagined. I don’t know if you’ll ever believe that, but it’s the truth.”

  “Coming up here was really hard at first.”

  He looks to me. “I can imagine.”

  “I don’t think you can. Janelle and I grew close over time, but those first few months I was walking on eggshells around her. I had no one to talk to and I was pregnant. And I mean, it’s not like I was looking to make friends here, in a new school with my waistline expanding every day, but walking the halls of that place was depressing. It made me regret all the times I blew Daisy off, kept myself closed off from her.”

  “It’s me who should have been here for you, no one else.”

  “But you weren’t. And I’ll be honest, Simon, the fact that you didn’t, in your words, try very hard...God, it made me hate you at times.” I wave him off when he goes to speak. “You didn’t know what I was going through, I know that.”

  “I tried to call you but your phone was disconnected. I called Mr. Vargas, and when he told me you’d moved, I freaked out, made him promise to follow up and check on you. He got back to me. Told me you were living with an aunt. Assured me you were doing great at your new school. But I still couldn’t put it to rest. I had Garth sniffing around. Even had Sienna try to pry some info out of your father, but he wasn’t giving anything up where you were concerned. I searched your name online more times than I can count. But yes, at a certain point I gave up.”

  “You moved on.”

  “Yes and no. I filed you away...I guess that’s the way I’d put it. Convinced myself you were living a good life somewhere. I always imagined you were in Florida, surrounded by palm trees, sand and the ocean. And I’d tell myself I was being stupid, pining away for a time in my life that didn’t exist anymore.”

  “I never moved on.”

  He cocks his head. “That’s not really fair. You didn’t move on because the course of your life was altered dramatically. If you’d never gotten pregnant, you think you never would have moved past me? Met someone else?” When I don’t answer, he presses, “Have you ever dated anyone else?”

  “Guys at school have, I don’t know...”

  He rolls his eyes. “Expressed interest?”

  “Yeah, but I’m very up front about having a child. Works like a charm when you want a guy to back off.”

  “I’ll bet.” He shoots me a bemused look. “Obviously I didn’t mean it would scare me off.”

  I raise my palm. “I get it.”

  “And I know Wes Keller is doing more than just expressing interest.” Now I’m rolling my eyes. “I’m not trying to start a fight. I’m just putting it out there. He’s interested in being more than just a friend. He always was.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means he was into you when you were sixteen.” He studies me. “But you knew that.” He leans over and puts the unfinished beer on the coffee table. “The way he looked at you back then made me sick, furious. He was, what, twenty-two, twenty-three? I wanted to kill him.”

  “You never said anything.”

  “Shit that Simon can’t do anything about...I had a very long list going at the time.”

  “Maybe that’s why you were always so angry.”

  “Is that how you remember me?” He looks stricken. “I don’t remember feeling angry when I was around you. Those few months we were together was the only time I felt…I don’t know, at peace.”

  “You were moody.”

  “I still am, I guess.”

  “No, you’re different. You talk more. There were days back then when your mood could flip on a dime and I wouldn’t know why. I didn’t like that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are.”

  “I could never sleep. I was always so damn worried.”

  “I knew Timmy being in prison was always weighing on you, but you wouldn’t talk to me about him.”

  He nods. “It was Timmy, feeling responsible for my mom, always feeling anxious about money.” He looks to me. “And I was worried about you.”

  “Why?”

  “I was worried about something happening to you, someone hurting you. There were nights at school that first year...I’d wake up sweating, punching some faceless stranger. My roommate probably thought I was a lunatic.”

  “Wow.” I shake my head. “I haven’t thought about that guy in years.”

  “Huh?”

  “The diner?”

  “Oh.” Now he shakes his head. “I wasn’t referring to that, but I guess a few of my nightmares did center around that morning.” He looks to me, skeptical. “You never think about it?”

  “Not really, no. According to Wes the case was a slam dunk, so the guy was going away for a long time. And then I left. I wasn’t at the diner, wasn’t in that town, so I had nothing to remind me.”

  “Better that way, I guess.”

  I consider it for a moment. “Maybe I don’t think about the event itself, but yeah, I suppose it’s changed the way I do things. I carry pepper spray in my purse, I’m careful walking around campus at night, always have my phone in hand…I’m definitely more aware of my surroundings than I would have been had it not happened.”

  “That’s a good thing,” he says, and reaches over to place one of his hands over mine before continuing. “I was talking about that lock, though. I’ve never been able to get the image of that lock on your bedroom door out of my mind.”

  The memory floods back. I’m in the cafeteria standing in line when Simon presses into me, wanting to know how it went and if my door was sturdy. He knew it was for my bedroom?

  “I was blind with rage where your brother was concerned.” He’s lost me. “And he was just someone else I knew I couldn’t take on at the time. I think a lot of my anger had to do with feeling powerless.” Before I can cut in, he says, “Not confronting Christian is one of my biggest regrets.”

  “You thought I bought that lock because of my brother?”

  Simon

  “I bought the lock because of Wes.”

  I stand and pace, looking for some outlet to
quell the fury building inside of me. “What did he do? Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

  “He didn’t do anything.”

  “Right.”

  “He didn’t.” She stands and intercepts me, taking my hands. “But what you said about him before? I did know, and I wasn’t comfortable with the way he looked at me back then. And I know I can’t convince you that he didn’t mean to cause any harm, but I believe that...I one hundred percent believe that Wes would never do anything to hurt me.” When I won’t meet her eyes, she drops my hands, backs away and takes a seat on the couch. “He knew I was too young, so he fought what he felt for me at the time and stayed away.”

  “He told you all this?”

  “More or less.”

  “And now he feels like the time is right? He wants back in?”

  “He knows that isn’t happening.”

  “Does he?”

  “He does.” She draws her feet up underneath her, rests her head back. “I know you see him one way, but he’s like everyone else...There’s good and there’s bad. He feels remorse for Timmy. He hates himself for it. He’s completely cut ties with my brother. Wes even left the police force over it. He moved away to start over.”

  “Let me guess...He got himself a nice little place in the Upper Peninsula.”

  “He’s just outside Philadelphia, working for his uncle and going to school. Hey, I don’t expect you to ever forgive him, and it’s not my place to forgive him over what he’s done in the past, but I can’t bring myself to see him as a bad person.”

  “And yet you installed a lock to keep him out of your room when you were sixteen.”

  “How is it so easy for you to view the world in black and white the way you do? How do you stand there, so righteous? It may not make sense to you, but my feelings for him are complicated.” I literally bite my tongue to keep from lobbing a sarcastic remark back at her right now. “You may not want to hear it, but Wes was the only person who looked out for me when I was a kid. After my mother got sick, he was the only person who stood between me and Christian’s angry outbursts. Wes, not my father, stepped in and set Christian straight when he could. He made sure I had food to eat and made sure I got to school on time when the weather was bad. He took care of me.” She lowers her voice. “And I’ve been alone for a long time. I’ve never led him to believe we have a future, but maybe I am guilty of keeping some sort of a relationship going with him. I have to admit, it’s been a comfort to know that someone cares for me.”

  And then I know it’s not anger I’m feeling, but jealousy over the role he’s played in her life. He protected her when I couldn’t. Stepped in when she needed a friend. Affirmed the idea that a man could want her, child and all.

  I sink into the seat next to her but can’t manage to say anything at first. Minutes pass before I say, “I think I understand.”

  “Thank you.”

  I take her hand in mine. We sit there together in silence, both of us wrung out and spent.

  Going through life leaving things unsaid is easy. Talking is hard. The kind of communicating we’re doing this weekend is the kind that drains you. It’s physically painful, but it takes a load off your back at the same time. To have someone you can be so open with is kind of amazing. I guess that’s what people mean when they refer to someone as their person. Charlotte is my person. I believed it before but I know it now.

  Even my time with Ethan is heavy this weekend. We still have times when we’re goofing off or just spending quiet time side by side, but there’s business to attend to as well.

  I decided to prepare my mother in advance. Taking Barbara’s thoughts on the matter into consideration, I agreed that springing a grandson on Mom could be a catalyst for heart failure. And it hits me, studying her face as she takes him in. This affects not only me, but every person in my life. With Mike and Brandon it’s the same. Ethan insists on introducing Moe to them on the video chat and Michael smiles through his tears when his nephew recalls what I told him about our brother. “Your Timmy, he sneezed?”

  I’m grateful for the strength Charlotte’s steady presence has given me today.

  “Is it just me, or do you feel like you went nine rounds with Tyson today?”

  She laughs, pausing as a spoonful of ice cream is halfway to her mouth. “I’m about ready to pass out.” She takes the mouthful then passes the bowl back to me. “I was nervous as all get out to face your mother.”

  “I’m glad I told her beforehand.”

  “Absolutely. Can you imagine how that would have gone? You remember Charlotte, right Mom? She’s got a little someone she wants to introduce to you. That would have been horrifying.”

  “She was always fond of you.”

  “I hope she still is.”

  “No worries on that front,” I assure her. “If I love you, she loves you.”

  “Love me?” Wide-eyed, Charlotte looks downright panicky.

  I take in a deep breath and place the bowl on the deck so I can focus on her. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, and maybe I should have kept it to myself for now, but I do love you. I don’t believe I’ve ever stopped.”

  “I see.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just...You say you love me, but do you really even know me?”

  “Come again?”

  She’s distancing herself, the relaxed ease of a moment ago now gone. “We were together for four months. You were with Samantha for a year. Longer than a year, actually.”

  “Stop with Samantha. I don’t want to hear her name coming from your lips. She means nothing to me. Do you get that? I never loved her.”

  “What happened when you went back?”

  I don’t want to do this now. I don’t want Samantha in this place with us. “Nothing.”

  Charlotte’s face twists as she goes to stand. “After everything I’ve shared with you, you can’t give me anything?”

  I make it to my feet first and take her forearms, slowly pulling her up and in close to me. I keep my voice low but there’s a hard edge to it that I can’t mask. “What do you want to hear? Do you want to hear that she cried? That she begged? She did. And I’m a bastard because I didn’t care. I fucking peeled her off me and left without looking back.”

  Falling back a step, I release her. What I’ve revealed begins to sink in.

  I left Samantha the exact same way I left Charlotte.

  Charlotte

  It’s hours later when he knocks on my bedroom door. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and I see the car keys in his hand. “Do you want me to go?”

  “What are you asking me?”

  “I’m just saying that if I were you, I’d want me to leave. I’m giving you the option. I’ll go stay at Lawrence’s tonight and I’ll head out after I have breakfast with Ethan tomorrow morning.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “What I want doesn’t matter right now.”

  “What was that before? Why couldn’t you just tell me what happened between the two of you?”

  “Because I don’t want to think about her.” He shakes his head, frustrated. “It was a relief to have something, a reason to cut ties with her. And now it makes me think I’m like, cold or something. That I can hurt people without really caring one way or another.”

  “But Samantha did something terrible to you. It’s not the same. Do you really believe what you’re saying right now?”

  “It sounds like history repeating itself. I left her and didn’t look back. Aren’t you afraid I’m going to hurt you, disappoint you again?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  His eyes close in anguish. “Do you know how much it hurts to love you the way I do?” He makes his way over slowly, drops his keys and takes a seat at the foot of my bed. “I’d never be able to live with myself if I hurt you that way again.”

  “I could hurt you too.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you love me because of Ethan?”

  �
��It’s not because of Ethan. I love you and I love Ethan. I want you in my life no matter what.” He reaches over tentatively, lays his hand over mine. My skin heats at his touch. “Open your eyes,” he whispers. “Please tell me you want me in your life.”

  “I do. I want you, Simon.”

  He moves closer still. One hand skims up my thigh, landing on my hip, while the other cups my cheek. “I’ll be good to you. I promise you that.”

  So long. It’s been so long.

  “I want to kiss you,” he says.

  They’re the same words he used that first time, so many years ago. But I want more now. He sits back and watches as I reach down and peel my tank top up and over my head. I’m aching for what I’ve missed out on all these years, and I trust this man, so I don’t stop. I shimmy out of the sleep shorts I’m wearing too, baring myself to him.

  He looks me over starting at my toes, making a long, agonizing path up and over every inch of me. My instinct is to cover up, but his eyes are hungry and loving at once. “You’re mine,” he says, and then stands to undress himself while I watch.

  His kiss is everything. It’s tender, it’s dominating, it’s safe. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” And his hips pressing into mine communicate his need. I slide my hand between us, wanting to feel him, remembering what it was like to have my entire body ignite like it did years ago. He moans when I make contact, and even though I know we’re not ready to take that step tonight, my legs fall open for him. “You’re mine, Charlotte,” he repeats.

  And I know it, I am.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Simon

  This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

  Ethan has just gone down for the night and the two of us are swinging in the hammock, lazy and sated. Charlotte is nestled into my side and she fits perfectly. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so content, felt so at peace the way I do when I’m with her.

  “I can’t believe September if just three weeks away,” she says.

  “I know. I hate thinking about the summer ending.”