Split

by J. B. Salsbury

I lie back down and throw my arm over his belly. “That’s because I do love you. And if it’s hard to believe, I’ll just keep telling you every few minutes until it sinks in.”

  “That could take a while.” There’s no smile in his voice, no hint of levity, but the weight of seriousness drips off his tone.

  “You’re gonna get sick of hearin’ it.”

  “Never.” He kisses my head, and a deep silence builds between us, his fingers resuming movement on my back.

  This is the most time I’ve ever had alone with Lucas. Usually whenever we get close, Gage bursts through and rips us apart. A tiny grin ticks my lips; a relationship with Lucas seemed so impossible in the beginning, but it doesn’t seem so impossible now.

  “What’re you smiling about?”

  “How do you know I’m smiling? You can’t even see my face.”

  He chuckles and the vibration rumbles against my cheek. “I can feel it.”

  I shrug. “I’m celebrating a small victory.” I press a kiss to his chest, then push up to my elbows. “We’ve uncovered a lot in a couple hours and…no Gage.”

  He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “This is usually the kind of thing he’d rather…enjoy…for himself. And you telling me you love me seems like—”

  “He’d show up to protect you.”

  He makes a noise of agreement.

  “Well, I have a theory if you want to hear it.”

  He grips me to him and rolls so that he’s on top of me. The weight of his big body presses into mine, and his erection lies against my thigh. I bite my lip and try to focus beyond my desire.

  “Yeah, I want your theory.”

  I suck in a breath and nod. “It’s simple, really.” I stare at him for a few silent seconds, nervous about how he’s going to take this. “Thing is…I love him too.”

  His eyebrows pinch together and his mouth pulls into a tight line. “You love Gage.”

  “I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s part of you.”

  His eyes dart to the side. “The bad part.”

  I pull his face back to mine and press a kiss to his lips. “I don’t believe that.”

  “You said it yourself. He’s not been good to you, Shy.” He starts to push himself up and off the bed. I struggle to hold him close, but he’s too strong and I’m left alone on the bed, watching as he pulls on his boxers.

  Feeling suddenly vulnerable, I grab the sleeping bag and cover my naked body. “He’s stubborn, and grumpy, and yeah, he’s rough around the edges but he’s also fiercely protective—”

  “He hurt you.” His jaw clenches.

  “He threatened me, but he hasn’t hurt me.”

  “Yet.”

  I push up and sit. “He loves you.”

  A humorless laugh bursts from his lips. “He hurts people—”

  “Lucas, please.” I reach out a hand, hoping he doesn’t reject it. “Calm down.”

  He stares at it for a few seconds before moving to sit on the bed. I push up and wrap my arms around him, fitting my front to his back. “The only way things will work out between us is if I have both of you.”

  A long exhale falls from his lips and he drops his chin to his chest. “I hate this for you.”

  I run my lips along his shoulder blade, taking pleasure in the trail of goose bumps I leave behind. “I can handle Gage.”

  His elbows to his knees, he leans his head into his hands, gripping his hair. “I wish that were true. But if I can’t control him, no one can. He’s already pissed off women in town—”

  “Sam got herself—” My body jerks upright. “Oh no, I forgot about Sam.”

  He turns to face me. “What about Sam?”

  “Remember, we were talking and I got the call about Sam being—” Oh no…that was Gage. I purse my lips and bite the inside of my cheek. “She was beaten almost to death in her own home.”

  “By who?”

  “They don’t know.” My cheeks warm and I find it hard to hold his eyes. “I thought maybe it could’ve been Gage.” His body tenses and I scurry to explain. “But no, there’s no way, I mean, he’d never hurt Sam like this.” It could be the Shadow; I’m just shocked the story that destroyed my career would hit so close to home. “There are a string of serial assaults in Phoenix and a few in surrounding cities. So far it seems Sam’s assault matches, but we won’t know until they finish the investigation.”

  “Serial assault…?”

  “The guy follows an MO. Never any proof of forced entry, and he never rapes. The cops are calling it a hate crime.”

  He’s staring openly at nothing and his voice comes out a tiny whisper. “Hate? Against who?”

  “Women.”

  He jumps from the bed as if he’d been electrocuted. “You need to leave.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I’m not safe for you. The feelings I have for you, if Gage…oh God.” He pulls on a pair of sweatpants, mumbling to himself. “I’d kill him if he hurt you.”

  With the sleeping bag around my body, I jump out of bed. “Kill who?”

  He sets cold gray eyes on me, and if it weren’t for the softness of his jaw, I’d think it was Gage. “Who do you think?”

  “You can’t kill Gage, Lucas. He’s you.”

  He doesn’t answer but turns and grabs a long-sleeved tee from the closet.

  I cross to him and wrap myself around his waist from behind. “You can’t kill Gage.”

  His muscles tense to solid rock. “What if he did it? What if Gage is the one who hurt Sam?”

  “No, I don’t believe that.”

  He peels my hands from around his waist and moves to the doorway. “Don’t be stupid, Shy.”

  “He has every right to have trust issues with women, but that doesn’t mean he’d beat them almost to death.”

  “You know that for sure?” His jaw ticks and he takes a step closer. “Sure enough you’d risk your life? Because every second we’re alone together we tempt him.”

  My heart pounds in my chest and, craving his comfort, I reach for him.

  “Please, stay back.” He’s panting, his fists clenched.

  “Lucas, it’s okay—”

  “I can’t trust myself around you…” He swallows hard. “You shouldn’t trust me either.” He dips to the floor to snag my sweater and tosses it to me. “Get dressed.” His stormy eyes meet mine. “You need to go.”

  I blink and shake my head, then pull my sweater on and move to him, but he holds a hand out to keep me back. “Don’t push me away.”

  He turns from me, his muscles prominent and straining his shirt. I want to touch him, to run my hands up his back, to ease him, but I fear that’ll make him push harder.

  “Okay, Lucas. I’ll go.” I snag my panties from the floor and tug them on, then rip my jeans up my legs.

  He doesn’t move and his gaze stays trained to the floor.

  I cross to him while buttoning my jeans and cup his jaw, grateful he doesn’t jerk from my touch. “Let me ask you this, Lucas. Besides earlier today, with me, in the last forty-eight hours, have you blacked out?”

  Slowly, Lucas turns his eyes to me. Dread settles in my gut.

  “Last night, after Dustin…on the way home I blacked out.” His expression isn’t panicked or even worried; it’s worse. Totally blank. Void of any emotion at all.

  The air in my lungs goes still. “Where did you go?”

  “I came to in the shower.” His eyes meet mine and although he doesn’t say anything, I can hear his thoughts scream, I did it!

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  “Go!” His eyelids flicker and he grips the side of his head. “Now! Get out of here!”

  I jump and my boots stomp on the wood floor as I head out, hoping Lucas will call me back and beg me to stay. It isn’t until I’m in my truck staring at the river house’s front porch that reality sinks in. I’ve finally made some headway with Gage, but I’m back to square one with Lucas.

  He’s push
ing me away.

  Thirty-Three

  Shyann

  My fingers drum against the hospital coffee machine as it spits premade vanilla-flavored coffee at an achingly slow pace. Impatient, I scoop the small paper cup out before it’s done. “Ow, shit!” I wipe the scalding liquid on my jeans and head back to my seat, blowing to cool it before taking a sip.

  After getting home last night, I fell into a restless sleep. My body ached in places that only served to remind me of Lucas. My heart clenches at what he must be thinking, that as amazing as he is, how tender he treated me when we made love, that he’d be capable on any level of the kind of violence that put Sam in the hospital. I tried to convince him but he’s been trained to think the worst of himself. I push back thoughts of Gage and his unpredictability. He may have killed his mother, but is he capable of hurting an innocent woman? He has more incentive to go after me, and although he’s had plenty of opportunities, I’m alive and well.

  I drop down into a plastic chair, my mind swirling with doubt. I try again to push the thoughts far back into the recesses of my mind. I trust Lucas as much as I’ve ever trusted anyone, and Gage, no matter how threatening, is part of him. I’ll never buy into his own guilt.

  My fingers drum against the armrest while I try to relax and sip my coffee. People filter in and out of the waiting room. Some are mournful while others embrace each other with hugs and happy tears.

  The small television in the corner plays the Phoenix news and I watch for lack of anything better to do while I wait for the nurses to update me on Sam. Rather than follow the captions on the muted TV, I critique the anchor’s choice to wear red, the station’s use of a graphic to tell a story that a video would tell better, and the overly serious expression of one reporter while discussing gas prices. Commercials for toilet paper, laundry detergent, and a local Phoenix law firm that specializes in divorce, and then back to the news where a familiar image takes up the screen.

  I sit up taller just as a person across the lobby says, “It’s Payson.”

  Main Street lights up the screen, along with a woman in a bright yellow tailored dress and perfectly coiffed red hair that doesn’t move an inch in the wind.

  The subtitles tick across the bottom.

  “…local police believe the assailant is still on the loose but locals are gripped with fear and the question, could this be another hit from the Shadow?” A video plays, still images of the outside of Sam’s house, a drop of blood on her front steps highlighted by a crime scene number flag, and neighbors confirming that they didn’t see anything. “Police encourage anyone with information about this assault to come forward.” The story goes on to talk about the violent nature of the crime and compares it to the eight other assaults attributed to the Shadow. When the thirty-second time block is filled, they move on to talking about this year’s football season.

  I slide back into my seat, shock only intensifying my worry. Poor Sam. My chest cramps violently at the memory of the last time the Shadow hit and a woman lost her life, leaving her daughter motherless. Is it possible this sadist made his way to Payson? A shiver slides up my spine, and I rub my arms to fight back the chill. If only Sam would wake up and tell police what she knows, they could finally put an end to this.

  My knee jumps in a furious rhythm.

  Wake up, Sam…Wake up. A warm hand hits my shoulder and my body jerks.

  “Whoa, sorry.” Dustin comes around to take the seat beside me. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Not your fault.” I hold up my almost drained cup. “Too much caffeine and impatience.”

  He grunts and it’s then I notice the deep circles under his eyes and his unshaven face.

  “You just get here?”

  “No, I was in my truck trying to catch a quick nap. Been here all night.”

  “Any word on how she’s doing?”

  “Her family let me sit with her for a bit. Think they felt sorry for me.” He rubs his eyes. “God, Shy…she’s so messed up. Eyes swollen shut, lips split to hell, most of her skin that I could see was bruised.”

  My heart hurts for what she’s gone through. “Phoenix news just covered it. They’re claiming it might be the Shadow. Won’t be long before this entire town is swarming with reporters.” I down the last of my coffee and crush the cup.

  “The Shadow…wait, they haven’t caught that guy yet?” His gaze darts to the window that leads to the parking lot, then back to me.

  “No, unfortunately they haven’t. It doesn’t make sense. Payson is a blip on the Arizona map. Why here? I don’t buy that it was him.”

  He nods and leans forward, putting his head in his hands. “This is all so fucked up.”

  I give in to my bleeding heart and pat him awkwardly on the back. “Why don’t you go home and get some sleep. I’ll call you if I hear anything.”

  He turns his head toward me, his expression soft with…something. “You’d do that for me?”

  I shrug and pull my hand off his back before he gets the wrong idea. “Yeah.” Grabbing my phone from my purse, I open my contacts and he rattles off his number. “Really, try to get some sleep. You’re no good to her exhausted. When she wakes up, she’ll need you strong.”

  He groans and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands before sucking in a breath and nodding. “You’re right.” His eyes wander a bit before he hooks me behind the neck. “Thanks, Shy.”

  I watch in horror as he tugs me to him, his lips going toward my forehead before he quickly dips and presses his mouth to mine.

  I wrench my head back. “Dustin…no.”

  He slams his eyes closed and nods. “Sorry, I…” He shakes his head. “I’m just tired and you’re being so nice. Old habit I guess.”

  I hold off on using the back of my hand to wipe his kiss from my lips. The guy is clearly in emotional distress; I can give him the courtesy of waiting until he leaves.

  He slides his hand from the back of my neck and the sound of car tires peeling against asphalt catches my attention. He doesn’t seem to notice and stands, but my gaze swings to the large window that leads to the parking lot.

  “Huh…looks like someone’s in a hurry,” I mumble to myself.

  His eyes follow mine and the corner of his mouth lifts in an odd grin before he wipes it clean and looks down at me. “Thanks again and don’t forget to call me if you hear anything.”

  I slump back into my chair and sigh. “No problem. I won’t.”

  Thirty-Four

  Shyann

  A couple hours or so after Dustin left, I was allowed a short visit with Sam. Her mom had to grab some things and didn’t want her left alone in case she woke up. I was able to confirm with my own eyes all of what Dustin described. I felt sick to my stomach. By the time her mom came back, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I need air to try and curb the dizziness that plagued me while sitting in that cramped room with a woman who didn’t look anything like my old friend.

  I push out of the doors and into the parking lot, fishing my phone from my pocket along with my keys. Hitting Dustin’s number, I head to my truck and suck in lungsful of precious fresh air.

  “’Lo?” His voice is scratchy with sleep.

  “Hey, Dustin. Sorry to wake you.”

  Rustling of sheets and a yawn sound in my ear. “Everything okay? Sam, is she awake?”

  I huff out a breath and lean against the hood, suddenly exhausted. “No, she’s still out. I just can’t sit here anymore, so I’m gonna take off.”

  “Yeah, I understand.” More rustling of sheets. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

  “Call me if she wakes up, okay?”

  “Sure. Thanks for being there, ya know, for both of us.”

  “Her parents are here. You don’t have to come down.”

  “It’s okay, I want to.” There’s a longing in his voice that makes me smile. They really are good together.

  “’Kay, talk to you later.”

  I hit END and circle to my door, climbing insi
de and firing up the engine.

  It’s after three o’clock and I should probably check in with my dad but first I need to go talk to Lucas. A flash of Sam’s swollen face, bruised neck, and busted lips flashes before my eyes. I told myself I’d give him time, and I’d planned on giving him more, but after today all I want to do is fall into his arms and make it all go away.

  * * *

  By the time I pull up to the river house, my heart is pounding with anticipation. I never knew I could be so attached to another person like this, but just seeing his truck, knowing he’ll be holding me in his arms soon, sends butterflies exploding in my belly.

  I hop down and take off toward the house but have to double back to shut my truck door, my mind hardly able to keep up with my body.

  Buddy peeks out from the porch, his dark eyes assessing.

  “Hey, Bud.” I hit the front porch with force and knock on the door.

  No answer, so I knock again. “Lucas, it’s me.”

  Nothing.

  I step to the railing and look to the side of the house, thinking maybe I missed him in my haste to get to the door. A light sound catches my attention and I turn back, realizing it came from inside.

  A whisper of worry tickles my veins as I move to pound on the door again. “Lucas? You in there?”

  Nothing.

  I press my ear to the wood and strain to listen. Someone’s talking. A man. Maybe he’s on the phone? I knock again and hear the muffled voice, but this time I think he’s talking to me. Is he telling me to come in?

  This isn’t right. Worry morphs to full-blown panic and the sense that something is off.

  I reach for the handle and pray it’s unlocked, all while telling myself if it’s not I’ll break a damn window if I have to. Luckily the door clicks open and I step cautiously inside.

  The kitchen and living room are littered with empty beer cans and a half bottle of Jack Daniel’s. My stomach clenches. Lucas doesn’t drink like this.

  “Lucas?”

  Still nothing.

  There’s shuffling in the bedroom. Again my thoughts go back to Sam and my hands curl into fists, ready to defend myself against whoever is keeping Lucas from answering me. I strain to listen and tiptoe through the living room with my heart in my throat.