Demolished

by Cathryn Fox

  We’re guided into a small room in the back, where we sit with the funeral director to go over the service, prayers, and reception. I take it all in, feel like I’m having a fucking out-of-body experience. Is this really happening? It all feels so surreal and I’m having a hard fucking time processing the information. By the time we leave and I drop Gram off back at the house I know I need one of two things: a hard bike ride or a hard fuck.

  Probably both.

  I jump on my Yamaha, tug on my helmet, and hit the throttle. I drive through town until I reach the next county. I meander along the coast and cruise the hills and valleys I know like the back of my hand. But something is missing. A ride always used to make me feel better, but today I need something more.

  I turn around and head back to Blue Bay. Summer doesn’t get off for another hour, but I can’t wait that long. I ease into the lot of Winchesters and park beside Tyler’s bike. I stomp to the front door, and when I push it open and see Summer with her hands on my fucking brother, my entire world compresses, fades to a dangerous shade of red as the sight before me knocks me off balance.

  The door slams shut behind me, probably because I gave it a hard fucking shove, and all eyes turn to me. Tyler goes stiff, and Summer jumps back, the loud bang frightening her. Either that, or she hadn’t expected to get caught running her fucking hands over Tyler’s shoulder. I told her it was me and her this summer, no one else, and I fucking meant it.

  She’s not like that.

  Everything in me screaming possession as I glare at Tyler and he jumps to his feet, meets my gaze straight on as I walk across the room to get up in his face.

  “Back the fuck off,” he says before I can get a word out. “Jenna was just helping me with my shoulder.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I stand before him, practically nose to nose. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

  I take in his crossed arms, his hard expression. “No, I don’t because you can’t get the fucking permits,” he shoots back. “What’s your fucking problem, Sean?” he says through clenched teeth as he glowers at me.

  I fist my hair, tug on it. Shit. Shit. Shit. This is my little brother and I’m two seconds from slamming my fist into his face because Summer had her hands on him. Ty would never disrespect me like that. None of the guys would. There isn’t one Owens who’d hone in on his brother’s girl. Yeah, she’s my fucking girl. I’m just so fucked up inside after the trip to the funeral home, my heart so goddamn cut up, I’m not thinking straight.

  I look at Summer, and in a deceptively calm voice say, “Get your things.”

  She’s blinking rapidly, her gaze shifting around the room, but I don’t care who is looking at us. In fact if any of the dickless assholes are here right now, I might make them my punching bag.

  “My shift isn’t over, Sean.”

  I take a deep breath, and let it out slowly in an effort to get my shit together. My boots scrape as I step up to her, my knuckles touching her. “Get your things,” I say again, my voice calm, despite the motherfucking hurricane tearing through me.

  As though she can see into my soul, see the fucked-up state I’m in, she nods. “I’ll tell Beck I have to cut out early.”

  “I’ll take care of Beck.” I don’t turn to Ty. Don’t want to see his face. I feel like shit, but he’s smart enough to know why, and if I see his sadness, his disappointment in me, I’m going to fucking lose it or punch something—neither of which I want.

  I step in to Beck’s office, take over his doorway. He lifts his head, and his face drops when he gets a glimpse of me. As he stares, I take a moment to consider what he sees. Every muscle in my body is tight, my hands are fisting, clenching and unclenching, and I probably have murder in my eyes. He doesn’t speak. Instead, he pushes back in his chair and waits for me to say something.

  “Jenna is cutting out early. It’s on me, not her.”

  He nods. What else is he going to do? I’m in a mood and he’s not going to stand in my way. I walk back into the pub and Summer is coming from the back room, her purse over her shoulder.

  Need slams in to me, beats at me like a drum. I fucking need her—for far too many reasons that frighten me.

  “You okay on the back of my bike?” I ask.

  She smiles, but it’s forced. “As long as you avoid all hairpin turns.”

  Does she really think I’d do anything to hurt her? She attempts another smile to let me know she’s kidding. But Jesus, I’m fed the fuck up with the lies. I’m Sean. She’s Summer. I’d cut off my left nut if it meant protecting her. From the first time I set eyes on the skinny little freckle-faced blonde outside Sugar’s, I was done for. So fucking done for.

  I dip my head and my hair falls forward. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you right?”

  She goes quiet, those dark eyes moving over my face. “I know, Sean.”

  I capture her hand and silence falls over us as I lead her outside. Tyler’s eyes drill into my back, but I don’t turn. It’s been a shit day, brutal as fuck helping Gram arrange for Dad’s burial, and I need to escape for a few hours. We get outside, and I lead her to my bike. I unhook the spare helmet and place it on her head. She reaches for the clasp, but I push her hands away and do it for her. She gives a breathy huff, and I stare at her, daring her to say something. I told her when this affair began that I’d be doing things for her. She better not challenge me now. Not when I’m in this kind of mood.

  I climb on the bike and she slides in behind me. “Hold on to me,” I say and her hands slide around my waist as I pull into dinner-hour traffic. She doesn’t ask where we’re going, just holds me tight, her legs wrapped around my body squeezing hard. I’m not sure where I’m taking her, but after aimlessly driving for miles, I find myself on the bluff. When it comes right down to it, I guess I’m not surprised I drove here.

  When we were kids we used to climb the bluff and dive headfirst into the water. Damn daredevils, every last Owens boy. The year Summer hit fourteen, God she was so pretty, her mother let her out of her sight more, and while her friends were allowed to go with us to the bluff, Summer was never allowed. Probably a good thing since she wasn’t a strong swimmer.

  Still, I remember my brothers making out with the girls, and I used to imagine bringing Summer here with me, kissing and swimming until day bled to night. But I never acted on my urges back then.

  I climb from the bike and help her off. She makes a move to unclasp her helmet but I do it for her and hook them both on the handlebars. “Come on.” Her hand slides into mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world and for a second it gives me pause. I look at her, take in the concern in her eyes, and it guts me. Sweet Summer, she’s worried about me but she’s just as fucked up and lost as I am.

  We climb the beaten-down grass path to the top of the bluff. With the rain coming, I don’t expect anyone to be there. Only an idiot would be hanging at Blue Bay’s highest ridge with a rainstorm brewing overhead. If Summer knew what was good for her, she’d run the other way, seek shelter. But she’s not. She’s sanding strong beside me, unafraid.

  When we reach the top, I drop to the grass and cross my legs. Summer does the same and stays quiet beside me as we look out at the white caps crashing against the shore below us. Seconds turn to minutes, and we just breathe, our knees touching, her heat bringing warmth and light to my darkest corners.

  “I told him I hated him and never want to see him again,” I finally say, breaking the silence as every buried emotion I have comes roaring to the surface. Pain, pleasure, sorrow, and joy all hitting like a fucking lightning bolt. My body breaks out in a sweat and I angle my head to steal a glance at Summer, catch her reaction, but all she does is nod, and for that I’m grateful. To be honest, right now I don’t want to be consoled or pitied or fucking lectured. I just need to get a lot of shit off my chest. Up until Summer there was no one I ever wanted to confide in, not even my brothers.

  “He was a hard-assed son of a bitch. None of us guys co
uld ever do anything right in his eyes. Every last one of us left him, left the family and business, never to look back.” I swallow the bile punching into my throat, and take a couple fueling breaths. “I remember the day like it was yesterday. I was nineteen, and we were working on one of the cottages. Dad asked me to run to the hardware store to get some four-inch spikes. I was already huge into bikes at the time, and jumped on my Yamaha.” I pause and laughed. “I loved that bike, saved every cent I ever made to get it.” I pick at the grass beneath me. “Anyway, I got Dad’s nails, but Benny flagged me down. He asked me to do a delivery. How could I say no to him right? He was like a hundred years old even back then.”

  Summer gives me a small smile. “That he was.”

  “So I did a quick delivery to help the guy out, and by the time I got the nails to Dad, he was fuming. He wouldn’t let me explain the delay, and we both said some pretty nasty shit to each other that day. I threw the fucking nails at him, and walked out. I emptied my back account, stuffed some clothes into my backpack and took off. I wandered for a bit, did some odd jobs, then made some connections on the motocross circuit.”

  She nods like she knows this story. “You did well for yourself.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Oh, I . . . just assumed. When you put your mind to something you’re the kind of guy who gives it his all.”

  “I never should have let my temper get the best of me. I was a stupid fucking kid, you know. I think back now, and I see Dad was just trying to make a man of me. Of all of us, really. Maybe he didn’t know all the right things to say. Fuck knows he didn’t know all the right thing to do.” I scoff. “Maybe that’s how his father treated him and it’s the only way he knew to parent. It couldn’t have been easy for him, trying to fill the shoes of both a mother and father.” Edgy and out of sorts, I press my palm to my eyes, fight back the sting of tears and go quiet for a long time. “I went with Gram to make the funeral arrangements today. We bury him next Tuesday,” I say quietly.

  “I’ll go with you.” Her hand snakes out and closes over mine, and she just holds me, her look one of understanding, never judgment.

  “I wish I would have come home sooner. I wish I could have apologized. We all turned our backs on him. I wish . . .” A sound catches in my throat. A half laugh, half cry. “I wish he knew I . . . loved him.”

  “He knew, Sean,” she says quietly, no reprimand in her voice, just gentle understanding.

  I bite down on my cheek. Fuck man, I don’t want to cry. “I wish I could have made him proud of me, you know, but nothing I ever did was good enough. I nearly fucking killed myself on the circuit. I had something to prove. I just never knew if I was trying to prove something to him or me. Still, none of that shit is an excuse to tell him I hate him though. I didn’t just walk out on him, I set an example for the rest of the guys in the family.” I exhale slowly. “Stupid fucking kid.”

  “That’s just it, Sean. You were just a kid. We all do stupid things as kids. That’s our job, and our parents’ job is to guide us into adulthood the best way they know how.”

  “If I ever have kids, which I never plan to, I’d never want to be such a hard ass.”

  “Dads are hard-asses and sometimes just plain stupid when it comes to raising kids. How can they just expect a child to step into their shoes and know the rules if they’ve never walked in them right?”

  My heart skips a beat. She’s talking about her own dad. Her voice is far too raw, too full of grief. Like she’s dredging up painful memories. What kind of danger is she in?

  She turns to me, her hair catching in the breeze. She pushes it back. “My dad always tried to protect me. I think they’re very different with girls and boys.”

  I look out to see a sailboat bobbing in the distance. “Maybe it would have been different if there was a girl in the family. Might have softened him a bit.”

  “I can’t believe you have a football team of boys and not one girl,” she says, shaking her head.

  “Gram is still holding out for great-grandkids.”

  “I always wanted a brother,” she says. “You were lucky to grow up in a big family. I would have liked that, Sean. But Mom died, and Dad and I moved around a lot.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I never had a lot of friends because of it.” She exhales slowly and looks around. “I don’t feel so alone here.”

  “What happened to your dad?”

  “He died in a motorcycle accident but . . .” Her voice falls off as she chokes back a cry.

  I put my arm around her and she falls against me. “But what?”

  She opens her mouth like she wants to say, then closes it again.

  “Tell me about your mom.”

  She swallows, and that haunted look returns to her face. “I walked into her room one morning and found her dead on the bed. Brain tumor.”

  “Jesus,” I say. I knew her mom had died and rumors went around but I never really knew the truth. “What a horrible thing to happen.”

  “Yeah, it was a long time ago.”

  But the pain was as raw today as it was back then. I can see it in her eyes.

  “I talked to Gram about Sunday dinner. I tried to get you out of it.”

  “It’s okay. I decided I would go.”

  “Yeah?” I pick a blade of grass and run it between my fingers.

  “I’ve always wanted a big family. I used to think I’d have one of my own. The big house, white picket fence. Is that silly?”

  “No it’s not, and why did you say you ‘used’ to think you’d have one?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I just . . . ,” she begins. Jesus, is she finally going to tell me what the fuck is going on in her life? “Don’t think about that anymore,” she says finishing the sentence.

  “You should have that. You deserve that.”

  She turns from me, shadowing her face with her hair, but not before I see the moisture in her eyes. “Maybe while I’m here I can live vicariously through your family.”

  As I take in her smile and her acceptance of Gram’s invitation, two things hit me: One, for the first time she’s opening up to me, sharing a part of herself, and two, she’s still talking about leaving, and I don’t fucking want her to. What I do want is to ask her what the fuck is wrong and why she’s been lying to me, but I’m too worried I might frighten her off. What if I come straight out and ask her and it scares her away. She’s running, I get that, but how the fuck can I watch over her, and protect her if she runs away from me?

  “You say that now. Wait until you’re surrounded by us, nowhere to run. You’ll be wondering what you ever got yourself in to.”

  “I’m not worried. You’ll be with me, and there isn’t one Owens boy who will stand up against you.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, and curse myself. “Tyler was ready to.”

  “He understands, Sean. He’s knows how hard today was on you. You were pushing. He was pushing back. He’s hurting, too, you know.”

  My chest grows tight, like I’ve been kicked in the ribs. “Yeah, I know.”

  She gives me a small smile and I fall back onto the grass, dragging her down with me. “I think we all just wish we could have made him proud of us one way or another.”

  “Is that why you’ve taken over the business? To prove to him you can be the man he needs you to be? Make him proud of you once and for all?”

  “Yeah. I sunk my entire savings into the business and if I can’t get the fucking permits I need, it will all be for nothing.”

  I turn my head and gaze at her as she stares at the dark clouds bursting with moisture. The rain will be here any minute. With unhurried movements, like we have all the time in the world and she doesn’t care if the skies open up and douse us in water, her hand slides across the grass.

  “It means protection,” I say.

  “What?”

  “My tattoo,” I begin. “When we were in the bathroom last week, you asked what it meant.”

  �
��I remember.”

  “The scorpion. It represents protection. I chose it because I’d do anything for my brothers and cousins.” I swallow against the tightness in my throat. “And my father,” I add quietly. “But I did a piss-poor job of that, didn’t I?”

  “You’re a good man, Sean. The best man I know,” she whispers, her voice soft, whispering over me like the ocean breeze, and creating an intimacy deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before.

  When she reaches for me, links her fingers it mine, her soft touch is like a healing balm to my soul, able to ease the pain inside of me—calm my demons. In that instance my body aches for hers, needing her in a way I’ve never needed another.

  “You’re not going to tell me I’m sweet again are you?” I say, needing like fuck to lighten things up. The truth is I’ve never opened myself up to emotions. Didn’t want to let anyone in, only to end up disappointing them. But with Summer, all that has changed.

  She grins and turns toward me, going up on one elbow as she fixes her attention on me. “Maybe,” she says, her warm breath brushing my skin, turning me inside out. Need resonates through me. I don’t know how I thought I could ever fuck her out of my system. This is Summer Wheeler we’re talking about. Not some circuit girl accustomed to my one-night stands. I take in the freckles on her nose and baser instincts kick in. I need her beneath me, need to be inside her, need to strip her naked so I can put my mouth all over her.

  “Then maybe I owe you that spanking, after all.”

  She rolls from me, offering me her ass, her body. “Maybe you do.”

  Yeah, sure I asked for sex and she’s given me her body numerous times, but maybe I fucking want more. Jesus, I’ve never wanted a woman like this before. My bedroom always had a revolving door, and I rarely slept with the same woman twice. No ties. No commitments. Just fun. That’s the motto I lived by. So why the fuck is this woman messing with that?

  I take a quick moment to reevaluate our relationship, and suddenly I want to ask for things I never thought I’d ever ask for. Summer has always been everything to me. Like a goddamn burst of sunshine on a gray winter’s day. Unlike most people, she never judged, and saw things in me no one else did and it’s time I stop denying what I really want from her—to have her in my life, as well as my bed. No fucking way can I walk away from this thing between us.