A Love So Dangerous (To the Bone #1)

by Lili Valente

  At one in the morning, every window is dark, except for a blue light flickering behind the living room curtains, making me think Isaac must have fallen asleep in front of the television. I told him I was going dancing with Sherry—which I did, for an hour, before I left her flirting with her favorite bartender and slipped out of the club to meet up with Gabe.

  I know I should feel bad for lying to one of my best friends, but I don’t. I don’t feel bad about much these days, not lying, or stealing, or any of the other things Gabe and I do on a regular basis. Maybe that means my moral compass is more messed up than I could have imagined before I met Gabe, but I’m still there for the kids when they need me, my stomach is calmer than it’s been since I was a kid, and I’m happy in a brand new way.

  This isn’t the “stolen moment” kind of happiness I knew before—snatched between the teeth of one crisis and the next—it’s something that starts deep inside of me and spreads out to envelope every aspect of my life. It’s a seed that was planted and nurtured by this summer with Gabe, and a part of me is terrified that my happiness will wither and die when he leaves in the fall.

  But even terror can’t cut as deep when Gabe is sitting next to me.

  I lean over to kiss him goodbye, and it is sexy and honest and intense—the way kissing him always is—but he tastes sadder than usual, salty, like a tear.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask after we pull away, running a gentle hand down his face. “Is everything all right?”

  He holds my gaze for a beat before smiling a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Everything’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow,” I echo as Gabe claims the bag of money from the floorboards and we slip out of the van, going our separate ways. He starts down the driveway, headed back to where he parked the Beamer a few blocks over, turning to blow me a kiss at the end of the drive. I lift my hand and wave, swallowing all the words that want to come out—like don’t go, and I’ll miss you, and I love you.

  I love him. I love him and it is wonderful and horrible and it…is what it is. There’s no changing it, no matter how much it hurts to think of saying goodbye.

  But I’m too tired to think any more tonight.

  I slip inside the front door, closing it as quietly as I can behind me, expecting to find Isaac passed out and drooling on the couch, but when I turn, he’s sitting up, staring at me with an intensity that makes anxiety skitter across my skin.

  He jabs mute on the T.V. remote, and my gut twists, the instinctive feeling that I’ve screwed up hitting before my mind can sort out what I could have done wrong.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, hanging my boho bag on one of the wall hooks inside the door. “Are the kids all right?”

  “The kids are fine.” Isaac tosses the remote onto the couch cushions before knotting his thick arms across his chest. “But I’m not sure I can say the same about you.”

  I frown as I run a hand through my still sweat-damp hair. “What’s that supposed to mean? I thought you said it was okay if I stayed out. If you wanted me home earlier, you should have just—”

  “This isn’t about staying out,” Isaac says. “Your dad came by earlier, right when I was cleaning up dinner.”

  I curse beneath my breath as I kick off my shoes and shuffle over to the couch, suddenly even more exhausted than I was before. “I’m sorry.” I collapse next to Isaac with a sigh. “You should have called me. I would have come home and handled it.”

  Isaac shifts, staring down at me as I lean back, resting my head on the lumpy cushions. “He wasn’t drunk, Caitlin. He was as sober as I’ve ever seen him, and really fucking upset.”

  I pull my knees up, hugging them to my chest. “What about?”

  “What do you think?” Isaac asks, sympathetic gaze drilling into mine. But this time I have the feeling I’m not the one he’s feeling sorry for. “He’s a wreck about the law suit, C. He can’t believe you’re really going to take the kids away.”

  I grunt. “Can’t believe I’m going to get the state to garnish his VA check for child support is more like it.”

  “It’s not like that.” Isaac shakes his head. “Chuck said he’ll sign the house and part of his check over to you and give you full legal guardianship of the kids. He just doesn’t want to go to court and lose his parental rights. He knows the kids are the only good things he ever did with his life. It’s killing him to think of losing them.”

  I hug my knees tighter, and my jaw clenches.

  “Just call off the suit,” Isaac continues when I don’t respond. “He’ll give you everything you want. You’ll get the stability you need for the kids, he’ll still be their dad on paper, you’ll save a bunch of stress not going to court... Everybody wins.”

  “If he cares so much about the kids, how come it took a lawsuit to make him do the right thing?” I ask. “And why should I feel sorry for a man who has done nothing but make my life harder from the moment I was born?”

  I drop my feet to the ground, bracing my elbows on my knees and squeezing my hands together in a single fist. “I’m glad he feels like shit. It’s time he had a taste of what it feels like to be helpless and scared.”

  “Come on, Cait. This isn’t like you. You don’t take pleasure in other people’s pain, even your dad’s.” Isaac puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing softly, but his touch doesn’t calm me the way it usually does.

  I shrug his hand off, and stand, pacing a few steps away from the couch. “I’m sorry I’m disappointing you, but this is how I feel. I don’t care if Chuck is losing his shit. I’m going through with the suit. For the kids.”

  “You’re going through with it to get revenge,” Isaac says, looking at me like I’m a stranger who wandered into the living room. “You’re different, C. Ever since you started going out with Gabe. It’s like he’s brought out this…fierce, scary side of you, or something.”

  I roll my eyes, not liking how close Isaac is getting to the truth. “Gabe has nothing to do with this. He was nice enough to ask his dad to represent the case for free. That’s it. I’m making decisions on my own.” I cross my arms, shrugging as I drop my eyes to the threadbare carpet. “Besides, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being fierce. Sometimes you need to be fierce to get the job done.”

  “Fierce, but not cruel.” Isaac stands, stepping closer until he’s looming over me. “There’s a difference and you know it.”

  I shrug again, but the movement is smaller, less confident.

  Maybe Isaac is right; maybe I am being cruel.

  If Chuck agrees to give me everything I’d get from going to court—except for parental custody—then what do I have to gain from going through with the suit? As legal guardian, I’d have the power to make decisions for the kids, and if the house is in my name, I can call the police and have Chuck carted off if he refuses to leave when I tell him to.

  And maybe, if I meet him in the middle, Chuck will remember I did him a solid. Maybe he’ll stay sober more often, and start coming around to spend time with the family, instead of stumbling in drunk, asking for money, and leaving as soon as he gets what he wants.

  “And maybe pigs are going to fly,” I mumble to the carpet.

  Isaac sighs. “I know you aren’t talking to me, but I understand what you’re feeling. It’s hard to believe that people can change, but it can happen.”

  No it can’t. People don’t change. Looking through Gabe’s father’s files has made that clear. People may alter their behavior or evolve in other ways as they age, but folks who are rotten at their cores, stay rotten.

  My father is one of the rotten ones, I know that, no matter how much a naïve part of me wants to believe that it’s the alcohol talking every time Chuck calls me a bitch or backhands Danny. The alcohol may fuel the fire, but the damp wood that’s burning and stinking up everything, is all Chuck. And I’m done with Chuck. I don’t have any more empathy left for him, or anyone like him.

  I look up, meeting Isa
ac’s gentle gaze with a hard one. “My mind’s made up. I’m going through with the suit, and I’m going to make sure Chuck has as little authorized contact with the kids as possible. It’s what’s best for them.”

  “It’s best for them to never see their dad again?” Isaac asks. “I mean, I know he’s a shit sometimes, but tonight he was great. You should have seen how excited Sean was to see him. That little boy still loves his dad, and wants him in his life.”

  “He’ll get over it,” I say, voice cold. “The rest of us have.”

  Isaac stares at me, into me, like he’s waiting for me to break and confess I was just kidding. But I’m not kidding. I’m not the same weak, one-step-away-from-disaster girl Isaac’s known since we were kids. I’m in control now. I have the power, and I’m not giving it up without a fight.

  “Fine,” he says, shaking his head as he steps back. “But for what it’s worth, I think you’re making a mistake.”

  “Noted. Thanks for watching the kids tonight,” I say tightly, eager to see Isaac walking out my door for the first time in my life.

  “Yeah, well…I love them.” Isaac props his hands on his hips, glancing down at his feet before meeting my eyes. “I love you, too. I will always love you, but that doesn’t mean I have to love the way you’re acting since you started dating Gabe.”

  I sigh. “I need to get to bed, Isaac. I’m tired.”

  “He’s bad for you, Caitlin,” Isaac says, stubbornly. “One day you’re going to wake up and realize just how bad. I just hope it’s not too late.”

  “Too late for what?” I ask, temper flaring. “To go back to being everyone’s willing little doormat? Because that’s not going to happen, and if that’s the only version of me you can accept, maybe we shouldn’t hang out so much anymore.”

  “We haven’t hung out in weeks.” Isaac’s voice is as hot as mine. “You’re too busy for your friends anymore. All you care about is him.”

  “So you’re jealous, is that it?” I snap before I think about what I’m saying.

  Isaac blinks, but after a moment, the anger vanishes from his eyes, leaving behind a naked, vulnerable look. “Maybe I am. Maybe I thought…”

  I dig my fingers into my upper arms, heart beating faster, shocked and scared and wishing I could rewind time to three minutes ago and run up to bed. I don’t want him to finish his sentence; I silently pray for him to stop talking and walk out the door, but God isn’t answering my prayers tonight any more than He ever has.

  “I thought it would be me,” Isaac says, voice thick, rough. “I thought that if you ever decided to make time for someone in that way…it would be me.”

  “What about Heather?” I ask, pulse racing in my throat. “You have a girlfriend, Isaac, I never—”

  “I’m with Heather because I couldn’t be with you,” he says, making my stomach lurch. “I knew how bad your mom and sister running off fucked you up, and I didn’t think you’d ever let someone into your life in that way. But if I’d thought…if I’d even had a little hope that you—”

  “Don’t.” I back a step away, shaking my head fast. “I don’t want to hear it. Just… Let’s pretend this never happened. Just go, and we’ll pretend—”

  “I’m tired of pretending,” Isaac says. “And Heather’s tired, too. She knows I’m in love with you. We fought about it that first night you went out with Gabe. Things haven’t been right between us since. She’s going to break up with me, sooner or later, but I’m not going to wait around for it to happen anymore. I’m breaking up with her. Tomorrow. I can’t keep lying to her, or myself.”

  I shake my head again. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll think about making a different choice,” Isaac says, hope in his voice that makes me want to stab myself in the ears so I don’t have to hear it, don’t have to realize how stupid I’ve been, or how much I’m going to have to hurt someone I care about.

  “I can’t,” I whisper, pressing my lips together. “I’m sorry, Isaac, I don’t… I don’t love you that way.”

  Isaac’s brow furrows, but the longing doesn’t leave his expression. “Yeah, not now, I know that. But…take some time. Think about all we’ve been through, all we mean to each other. There’s more to what we have than friendship, and I know there have been times when you’ve felt it, too.”

  I force myself to meet his eyes, knowing he won’t believe me unless he sees the truth in my face. “No, I haven’t. I’m in love with Gabe, and I don’t want to be with anyone else. Not now. Maybe…not ever.”

  “Never is a long time.” Isaac’s eyes begin to shine. “He’s going to leave you, Caitlin. He’s not the kind of guy who sticks around.”

  “I know that,” I say. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the way I feel.” I pull in a breath, my ribs aching as they expand. “I’m sorry, Isaac. I really am.”

  He sniffs, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth before he smiles. “Yeah, well, I hope I’m wrong. I hope he doesn’t break your heart. But if he does… I can’t be the shoulder you cry on anymore.”

  “Okay,” I whisper, hating the misery that twists Isaac’s face as he backs toward the door.

  “Great, well…” He grabs his keys from one of the wall hooks. “Good luck with everything. I’ll see you when I see you.”

  I open my mouth to say something to make this better, but I can’t think of a damned thing. I watch him go, and then stand in the middle of the living room alone for a good five minutes. I stand and watch the twisted blue shadows flickering in the corners of the ceiling, feeling like the world has turned upside down.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Gabe

  Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin…

  No reckoning made, but sent to my account with all my imperfections on my head.

  -Shakespeare

  Sunday morning dawns with numbness in my right arm.

  I think I must have slept on it wrong, but then I roll over and the horizon line outside the window goes crooked, shifting back and forth the way it did last night when I was trying to run from the storage facility. I close my eyes and open them, close and open, but the world refuses to steady and soon my stomach is pitching right along with the field of hay behind Darby Hill.

  I close my eyes and force myself to go back to sleep, not wanting to admit this is what I think it is—the close of the game, the brick wall at the end of the alley, too high to climb.

  I wake up later—not sure how much later, but the light in the room is brighter—and the world is steady again, but my arm is even more numb than it was before. I clench my fist and release it, again and again. I watch my hand move sluggishly back and forth, but I can’t grip my blanket between my fingers, and soon the headache that felt like it was going to crack my skull open on the way back from Caitlin’s house last night, returns.

  I lie in bed for a long time, head throbbing like a thumb with a splinter shoved beneath the nail, knowing I should get up and ask my mother or father to help me take a pain pill. But I dread the scene I’ll cause when I confess I can’t open the bottle myself. It will all be over, then. There will be no more hiding from it, even if the numbness goes away.

  Please go away. Please. I need a little more time.

  No, I need a lot more time. I need a lifetime. I need a future to promise her, but what you need, and what you get, are rarely the same thing. This is what I have—a numb arm, a pounding head, and unfinished business I need to get out of bed and take care of before it’s too late.

  I shove my sheet and blanket to the end of the bed and lie beneath the swirling ceiling fan in nothing but my boxer briefs, hoping the cool air will help banish the pounding sensation in my head. It works…a little, and in a few minutes I feel good enough to sit up and reach for my phone.

  I text Caitlin, punching in my message with my left thumb, trying not to think about what happens if my left arm starts playing the same kind of games as my right. Less than a minute later, she texts me back, saying
she can’t get away this afternoon, but I’m welcome to come over to her house early.

  Be there as soon as I can, I text back. I want us to find someplace private to talk. Not in front of the kids.

  Okay. The dots flicker on my phone, indicating she’s typing something lengthy, but when the rest of the message comes through it’s simply: Everything okay?

  No, it’s not okay. I’ve promised things I had no business promising. And now I’ll have to pay the price, and so will Caitlin. But I can’t tell her that in a text, so I simply punch in—

  I’ll explain when I get there.

  —and turn off my phone.

  I force myself out of bed and shuffle into the bathroom where I take a shower, feeling only half in my body as I make accommodations for my numb arm without thinking too much about what I’m doing. I shave and dress, refusing to look my reflection in the eye. If I look myself in the eye there will be no more hiding. I will slip out of this fuzzy state of shock, and slip into a very different emotional state. One that won’t be conducive to ending things with the only girl I’ve ever loved, and that won’t be any good for anyone.

  It’s time to end it—quickly, cleanly—to cut myself off from Caitlin like a rotten limb before I can further infect her life.

  I tell my parents I’m going for a drive and will be back before dinner, leaving the sitting room without answering my mother’s inquiry as to how I’m feeling. That’s another conversation better left until after I’ve finished my business at the Cooney house; I doubt my parents would be keen on me driving without feeling in one arm.

  I have to stop twice on the way across town. Once, because the highway starts shifting on its axis, and I have to pull over until the world steadies; once a few blocks from Caitlin’s house, to firm up what I’m going to say. I thought I’d have more time, but now we’re suddenly at the finish line and I haven’t had a chance to prepare.