Sever

by J. M. Miller

  “It looked like a lot more than some to me. I was impressed. You were working hard, but I could tell it wasn’t really work. You finally found the passion you were looking for.”

  He’d remembered. After losing football, I’d searched for something to love just as much. I’d found that spinning records, but Damian had been the source, the real reason I loved it so much.

  I took a nervous breath. This truth was so close to me, so deep. “It was because of you.”

  His fingers stilled at my wrists. “I’ll take the credit for helping you learn, but you were always driven. You wouldn’t have stayed with it if you didn’t want to.”

  The real meaning behind those words settled in, bringing back all the raw emotion from the night I’d left. I’d hurt him more than I’d ever thought possible, and there was no way to ever change that. Nothing I could say would erase it, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t try to make things right.

  “I stayed with it because it was my last connection to you.” I turned to look into his eyes, but his face was cast down, staring at his legs as he concentrated on the knot at my wrists.

  I couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry, and I know that’ll never be good enough. I convinced myself that leaving you was right thing, that it was for the best despite what I wanted. It was the wrong choice, and out of all the choices I’ve ever made, it’ll be the one I regret for the rest of my life.”

  His eyelids closed and his fingers stilled again. “You crushed me, and I hated you for it.” He shook his head and worked his fingers again. “I wanted to erase you, but I never could. Not with alcohol, or burying myself in school. Nothing worked. I finally accepted that you’d never cared as much as I had, that you’d never wanted me as much as I’d wanted you.” I flinched beside him, and he finally looked up. His eyes were a riptide of emotion, begging me to drown.

  “I never stopped wanting you. I just thought I would ruin everything for you if I stayed. I wanted you to have everything … everything you wanted.”

  “You were all I ever wanted. The rest was less. It never mattered.” His fingers covered my hands softly.

  “I’m sorry,” I uttered again as tears filled my eyes. “I never should have said goodbye.”

  “I’m sorry, too.” It was nearly impossible for us to get closer, but he found a way. His arm pressed against mine and he dipped his face closer. “It’s not just your fault. I should have never given up. I should have fought for you as hard as you fought for me the very first time we met.”

  And with those words, I felt the five-year hole in my heart disappear.

  “She’s gone,” Damian said, bounding up the stairs toward me. I backed up past the bookshelves, trying to retreat to the office before he could catch me. “Oh, no you don’t.” He hit the top of the staircase and cut around the banister just as I stepped behind the turntables.

  I squealed, giggling as I turned, knowing he was too fast.

  His body collided with mine, knocking us into the DJ table and skipping tracks on his laptop. A deep bass kicked on, bouncing around Rewind like we were at a house party instead of work. His arms cinched around me, pulling me back against his body and lifting me into the air.

  I thrashed inside his arms, enjoying every second. Our relationship was growing stronger, but our time together was still limited. We rode to school together, and we had ditched the day after that first night at the lighthouse. Even though it had been a glorious day—most of which was spent in the back seat of his parked Lancer—I refused to do it again. He wasn’t sure what he wanted for the future, and I couldn’t let him jeopardize any scholarships for a small taste of rebellion.

  So, aside from rides to school and breaking back into the lighthouse once last weekend, a majority of our time together was still spent at Rewind.

  “I got you something,” he whispered, setting me back on my feet. He turned my body to face him and grabbed a box from behind his laptop.

  I stared at the picture of the headphones on the side of the box. They were one of the best pair we sold in the store. “You bought these for me?”

  “Wait.” He lifted the flap and freed the headphones, rotating them to show me the earpieces. White knife decals adorned both sides. “You’re getting pretty serious about spinning, so I wanted to buy you your first DJ set.”

  I skimmed a finger over one of the knife decals, feeling the consideration behind the gift. “Thank you.” The words weren’t good enough, so I took the earphones from him and set them on the decks, then kissed him hard.

  He picked me back up with a revived urgency, moved us to the office, and pressed my body against the wall. I clamped my legs around his waist, letting him dominate, giving up control like I’d never done with anyone before. He was firm yet gentle, demanding but calm. He was unraveling me, every messed up piece. I knew it was dangerous, but I couldn’t bring myself to cut the string.

  It was the reason I didn’t push for more time, why I didn’t care to go to his house or have him over to mine. I was stalling because I was afraid of what would happen if he discovered the truth.

  With some of my weight pressed against the wall, his hands roamed my butt. One hand slid higher, the knife in my back pocket sliding with it. I broke away from his lips instinctively, wondering what he was doing.

  He opened his eyes in response and scrunched them curiously. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I lied.

  The knife slid back into my pocket as his hands readjusted again. “You sure?”

  “I’m fine.” I smiled while looking into his concerned eyes, studying their green and light brown colors. I didn’t want to lie, but I couldn’t tell him the reason I was so connected to the knife. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to tell him that I was the one who had killed John.

  Leaning forward, I brushed my lips against his and slipped my fingers into his thick hair.

  He didn’t move at first, possibly holding out to see if I’d explain. After a moment, though, he relaxed into me, tipping his head to give me better access to his lips. I sucked his lower lip into my mouth gently.

  His fingers squeezed tighter as he backed us off the wall and spun around. A few strides later, he was laying me down onto the worn cushions of the leather couch. His mouth took control, his tongue twirling around mine.

  The door buzzer sounded in the room, alerting us to a customer entering downstairs.

  “Shit,” he muttered, breaking away from my lips with a laugh. “I’ll get it.”

  I nodded, watching him stand and adjust himself through his jeans. When he looked back up, I licked my lips. He wiped a hand over his smiling face then heaved a frustrated sigh before walking from the office. I chuckled as the volume of the music outside dropped.

  I heard someone’s voice downstairs then Damian’s response traveled into the office. “Yeah, she’s here. Syn,” he called a bit louder to me.

  I jumped up and stepped out to the loft. Staring over the metal railings down to the front door, I saw someone near the counter. His hands were stuffed inside the pockets of his black leather jacket and his slicked-back hair tipped down toward the glass. Tanner.

  “He wants to talk to you,” Damian said behind me, standing in front of one of the bookcases holding a few records. If he was trying to hide his emotions, he was doing a horrible job. I could see the worry and jealousy in his narrowed eyes and stiff body.

  He had no reason to feel either. I’d seen Tanner once since I’d moved back. Neither of us had made more of an attempt to be friends again, but I wouldn’t shoot the idea down if he wanted to.

  “You okay?” I asked Damian, moving the records he was holding out of the way so I could press my body to his.

  “Yeah,” he replied calmly, glancing down at me through hooded eyes.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I pulled his face down and kissed him slowly, hoping to reassure him. I thought he’d take whatever I gave without much return effort. But I was happily mistaken. Within a second, the records fell to the floor, his ha
nds gripped my back, and his tongue dove into my mouth, showing me his appreciation and claiming me at the same time. When we broke apart, I nearly fell over with weak knees.

  After giving Damian a thankful grin, I jogged down the stairs and moved to the register. “Tanner. How’s it going?”

  “Hey. Sorry I haven’t come by,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Work’s been busy.”

  The faint smell of cigarettes emanated from his jacket, competing with the smell of the store. “That’s a good thing.” I slipped my hands into my back pockets and waited for the awkwardness between us to disappear. It was strange to stand in front of someone I’d been able to talk to for hours as a kid and be at a loss for anything to say.

  “Yeah,” he agreed with a glance behind me to the loft. “So you and Damian, huh?” I raised an eyebrow and he shook his head with a crooked smile. “It’s cool, Syn. I just wouldn’t have thought you’d go for an ass-kissing go-to boy.”

  After clearing my throat, I pushed closer to him. “You don’t know me anymore. Just like I don’t know you, remember?” I said, repeating his words from weeks before.

  The front door opened and a guy with bushy long hair entered, staring down at the phone in his hand. I looked up to the loft and watched Damian head to the stairs.

  “I think I still know you pretty well,” he replied, stepping even closer and reaching around to my hand.

  My body reacted fast, grabbing his forearm with one hand then pinning back two of his fingers with the other. I pushed his hand toward him and he busted out in pained laughter. At the same time I realized he was messing with me, Damian broke us apart with a stiff-arm to Tanner’s chest.

  “Don’t touch her,” Damian snarled.

  The hit sent Tanner stumbling backward into the counter, shaking the display of phone cases and knocking some to the floor. The long-haired customer walked back out the front door, abandoning whatever he’d come in to get.

  Damian grabbed my arm tenderly. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” I whispered, still in shock by what Damian had done.

  “I didn’t hurt her, dick,” Tanner said, straightening up and rushing back to Damian. “I was fucking with her, something we always used to do.” He shoved Damian’s shoulder and stepped up to him.

  Their faces were inches apart, glaring like two dogs ready to rip each other to shreds. “Knock it off,” I yelled, yanking them apart as best as I could. With their size and how tense their muscles were, it was difficult. I squeezed my way between them and pushed against both of their solid chests. Turning my focus directly to Damian, I said, “I’m fine, okay? Please, just back off.”

  “Maybe you should stick to saving country club girls from breaking their nails. Syn’s not the type, jackass,” Tanner said with a laugh.

  “Just shut it, Tanner,” I spat, glancing quickly over my shoulder and shoving him back farther.

  Damian scoffed with a twisted smirk. “You obviously know her so well.”

  I hadn’t seen him this angry before. The look in his eyes was almost scary, but he let me push him away from Tanner and back toward the stairs. “I’ll get rid of him. Just wait here.”

  He didn’t reply, he just stared at the front of the store.

  “Please?”

  His eyes finally connected with mine, and he nodded a simple acknowledgment.

  I marched back to Tanner and yanked him by the jacket, pulling him to follow me until we were both walking through the front door.

  The gray sky had unleashed an early March rain, dissolving any remaining patches of snow on the ground, flooding the sidewalk and leaking through the awning over top of our heads. It dripped steadily into my hair, but that was the least of my concerns.

  “What the fuck do you want, Tanner?” I said, biting back the urge to yell and hit him.

  He ran a hand through his hair, pushing some wet strands off his forehead. “It’s not my fault your boyfriend thought I was hurting you. I was just—”

  “Baiting him? I know exactly what you were doing, so cut the shit and just tell me why you came to begin with.”

  He laughed as he tracked a passing car then pinched the top of his long nose, considering something.

  “I’m working here,” I prompted. “I’m all for being friends again if that’s why you came by, but if you’re going to keep pulling the same bullshit you did in there, you can forget it.”

  “You said before that you might consider using your skills to help me out,” he stated, sidestepping to find a drier area beneath the awning.

  “Yeah.”

  “This one guy stole some of my shit a few months back. Tools mainly. Anyway, the guy moved and put his crap into a storage place off Forty. I can’t just walk in with a pair of bolt cutters. I’ve been practicing, but it would probably take me a hell of a lot longer than you.”

  “Indoor or outdoor storage unit?” I asked, running my hands over my hair to stop the water from dripping into my face.

  “Outdoor.”

  I crossed my arms and looked down at my boots. This was definitely crossing a line I hadn’t crossed before: personal property. Sure I’d stolen some goods from a concessions stand once upon a time, and maybe even a few keychains from a store, but this was grand theft. It didn’t matter if the stuff had already been stolen. It was under lock and key and possession was nine-tenths and all that jazz. “What kind of tools? Power tools?”

  “Some, some are basic. Does it matter?”

  I considered his question as I kicked tiny pebbles, watching them splash into the street puddles. “No, I guess it doesn’t. Because if I decide to help, I won’t touch any of it. Just the lock.”

  “Understood.”

  “When?”

  “A few weeks maybe. The dude is supposed to go out of town, so it’s probably best to wait.”

  I could feel his eyes on me, so I met them. There was an edge to them now. When we were kids, they were an honest and vibrant green. Now they looked tired and hard, stripped down by life.

  “Thanks, Syn.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I’m not even sure it’ll happen.”

  “Right,” he said with a grin. “Hand me your phone.” I slipped my phone out of my pocket and dropped it in his hand. He hit a few buttons and a guitar ringtone sounded from inside his jacket. “Text me when you decide, or call if you want.” He placed my phone in my hand, lingering just a bit.

  “Sure,” I replied, breaking our contact and nodding. Watching him pull a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, I slid my phone back into my pocket. He extended the box to me, lid flipped open.

  “No, thanks,” I declined with a wave. Smoking was never a habit I’d been interested in, probably because he had smoked. One lit cigarette rested in an ashtray on the counter, squiggles of smoke climbing into the air as he took his last breaths.

  Shaking off the memory, I said, “I should get back to work. I’ll let you know.”

  He nodded as he lit a cigarette then blew a cloud toward the street. “Thanks again for thinking about it.” Shielding his cigarette by cupping his hand, he stepped out into the street. “Later, Syn.”

  I walked back inside the store and was greeted by a worried pair of hazels. Damian had his butt resting on the edge of a slanted CD display with his arms crossed, his legs kicked out in front of him, and his soft eyes staring uncertainly at me. Trying my hardest to ignore how sexy he looked—the white T-shirt stretched over his muscles, the thick of his brown hair still messed up from my fingers running though it upstairs—I marched toward him, focusing on my irritation instead. “What the hell was that?”

  “What?” he asked, uncrossing his arms and pressing his palms on the stand, tapping his fingers.

  I hooked my hands on my hips and glared at him. “Do you really think I can’t defend myself? I don’t need you to save me.”

  “Pretty sure you weren’t complaining about me saving you at the lighthouse,” he said calmly.

  I shook my head. “You know it�
��s not the same. He was just baiting you, and I can handle myself.”

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  “What?” I asked, knowing he wanted to say something else. “Do you think you still owe me from the fight on the rail road tracks? I already told you that you don’t.”

  “What aren’t you telling me, Syn?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He stood straight up, towering over me, and touched my shoulder. Trailing his hand down my arm, he said, “You change the subject whenever I ask about the future. You flinch if I even bump your knife, like you don’t trust me.” His light touch traveled back up my arm and his fingers pushed into my damp hair, tipping my face up so he could look into my eyes. “You’re holding back. Why?”

  “I’m not holding back,” I whispered. I couldn’t acknowledge it because it would only lead to more questions.

  His thumb moved along my jaw line, smoothly, rhythmically. “Tanner said you aren’t the type who needs to be saved. You were friends as kids, but I find it funny that he really has no idea who you are. You’re always out to prove yourself, to show how strong you are, but I can see you. I know there’s more. So whether you need me to or not, I want to be the one who helps you. I want to be the one who saves you.”

  I blinked hard, struck by his words, unable to form my own.

  “And yes, I still owe you for the tracks. I’ll never be able to repay you, no matter what you say.” While he slipped a hand around my back, his lips pulled into a sideways smile, dissolving a little more of my control.

  I still couldn’t speak, so I simply stared at him staring at me. Wanting more contact, I moved my hands to his waistband and tucked them up under his shirt, pressing them to his warm skin.

  “You going to tell me what he wanted?” he asked.

  I scrunched my brows. It was best not to say anything, but I didn’t want to hide anything else from him. “He wants some help getting back some stolen tools.”

  He rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Don’t do it. I know you can handle yourself, but it’s not worth it.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, really.”