“I should go,” she whispers and I sit up as she perches on the edge of the bed, pulling the sheet around herself.
With my heart aching, I try to stop her. “Why?” I ask, needing to know why she’s doing this. But she refuses to look at me as she stands, carefully hiding behind the sheet.
I get up as well, not as concerned as she is about hiding behind sheets or invisible walls. Taking her shoulders in my hands, I turn her to face me. But her face is lowered and her hair falls forward and hides her features from me.
Capturing her chin I lift her face. Tears shine bright in her eyes and I wonder what I’ve missed. Her blue eyes slash back and forth between mine and I struggle to find the words to ask the questions looming between us.
“Don’t,” she whispers, the single word as forceful as a sucker punch. The moisture that has gathered in her lashes sparkle as a lone tear slips down her cheek. My thumb instantly swipes it away and she blinks, her face an echo of pain that slices me deeply.
“What are you hiding?” I ask, needing to know the truth. “Whatever you’re running from, you’re safe,” I say, needing her to know what’s in my heart. I don’t care what is in her past. I care about her, even if it doesn’t seem like it.
But she shakes her head. Without another word she pulls from my grasp and leaves my room. And as I look after her, I feel more alone than I have in a very long time.
Maybe I’m cursed. Every woman that comes into my life leaves.
I return to my bed. At the foot of it, her dress still lies in a puddle of fabric. Feeling mocked, I pick it up and remember how she looked in it. How she smiled at me throughout dinner. How my parents loved her.
Damn it.
Falling back on my bed, I stare up at the ceiling, thinking about May’s big beautiful blue eyes. What the fuck did I do to screw this up? Folding my arms behind my head, I puzzle over things when a small sound grabs my attention.
It’s like the tiny mews of a lost kitten.
And it clicks; she’s crying.
Overwhelmed by a sense of powerlessness, I struggle. Should I go comfort her? Or am I the source of her pain? Would I make matters worse?
Fuck.
May
I wake, feeling like garbage.
My phone screen is lit like I’ve got a message. Which is odd. No one has messaged or called me since I’d blocked him.
The text makes my heart sink right to my toes. It’s Katie.
Sara! I’m coming home. Visit meeee! <3
No, no, no, no… this can’t be happening.
I sit back down on the bed, feeling lightheaded and sick at heart. This is the end. It’s all over now. There’ll be no hiding who I am anymore.
Kate won’t be okay with this like Babs was. She’ll ask me what the fuck I’m doing, and she’ll be pissed I’m messing around with Clint.
Fuck.
I stare at the message until my eyes begin to blur. A knock at my door startles me and I look up. “Come in,” I say, totally focused on this new fire I need to douse.
The door opens and Clint stands in my doorway, totally imposing with his arms crossed and a defiant refusal to look at me.
“I’ve got some family coming into town,” he says, matter-of-factly, and I nod, wondering what this has to do with me. I expected today to be awkward, but he’s distant and aloof. Which is fine with me. That’s less messy. After the sudden break I’d had last night with the weight of all the lies and secrets stressing me out, I’m not surprised he’s avoiding me like the plague. Hell, I’d avoid me. I probably look totally unhinged.
Maybe I am.
Still, Clint is quiet as if I should be saying something.
“Are you asking me to keep up the lie?” I ask, feeling weary. This would be funny if I weren’t so very tired of all of it. I want to just come clean now, I want to unburden my soul to everyone and to hell with them and their judgments. I ran away once. I lived through Dillon. I can live through anything.
“Who are you running from?” he asks, and I shake my head. I’m only barely able to think of his name now. In the weeks that have followed, every day that has passed is another victory. He has no hold over me. I’m even to a point now where he doesn’t dominate my every waking moment.
I didn’t jerk awake this morning feeling like he was coming home drunk and angry again.
And I’m not about to open up about him, or let him rule my life whether in my head or outside of it. So I switch back to the conversation at hand.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
“What would you like to do?” he asks, and I struggle with the very real fear coursing through me.
But it’s time to come clean. About some things, at least. “I can’t fake it. Katie won’t be fooled.”
His whole posture changes from aloof to intense. It’s a subtle shift, but the whole mood of the room changes.
“How did you know…?” he asks, studying me carefully.
“Oh, come on, Clint. Do you really not remember?” I ask, standing up to him. He looks me up and down, and again I see that flash, that look in his eyes like he’s trying to place me. “You feel like you’ve known me forever because you have,” I say and he falters back a step.
There’s confusion in his handsome face, and I feel bad for him. “Babs remembered me. But she promised not to out me, and she still believes we’re really together, but Katie will be pissed when she finds out.”
“What…?” I know he’s struggling.
And I’m tired of the lie. “Maybe if you called me Sara?” I ask, wondering if that’ll jog his memory.
And there it is, the flash of recognition in his eyes as he suddenly sees me for who I am; the little sister’s friend who used to follow him around like a puppy dog. I was so damn in love with him forever ago. He’s the reason I came back to Texas. Because after Dillon kicked the shit out of me last time, I’d ran straight to Clint.
Because I know him. Because I trust him. Because it’s not the first time he’s saved me. But it’s not love I see in his eyes now. It’s not trust or joy that I’m here.
No, he’s furious.
“May is my middle name,” I say, needing to defend myself. I know it looks bad, but it’s not as evil as his expression seems to be making it out to be. I didn’t set out to just deceive him. I wanted to protect myself. I thought he’d recognize me. But I wasn’t sure I was safe. Dillon promised he’d always follow me, and that he’d find me. That I’d never escape him.
I’m sure it was all just to scare me. He wanted to use threats to keep me under his thumb. And it worked for a long time. But now, on the outside and a hell of a lot less scared, I see his bullshit for what it was; propaganda to keep me tied to him and terrified.
But now, with Clint eyeing me like I’m a lair, like I’m something he’d tracked in on his shoe, I feel my heart sink in my chest.
“Please don’t hate me,” I whisper, feeling so broken as he stands in the doorway of the room he’d so kindly given me when I needed it most. I knew it would come to this, but I’d wanted to live the lie a little longer.
I wanted to feel loved for just a little while longer.
I’m just a liar, a user, a human piece of garbage, just like Dillon had told me so many times before. He was right about everything. Maybe I would be better off dead. Maybe I am just a waste of oxygen.
Clint
Dear sweet May isn’t really May at all.
She’s Sara, that cute girl I had a crush on a lifetime ago. And even as I see her heart breaking in her eyes, I step back out of her room and close the door behind me.
She lied to me. I let her watch my daughter. I trusted her. I even gave her the space I knew she needed for her past. I didn’t pry, but I did need honesty.
With a war raging within me, I leave the house. I need space. I need a chance to blow off steam. I need to get away from her. Because even as I feel betrayed, I feel like kissing her, long and hard, deep and desperately until she submits to me again.
But I only barely remember her.
At the front door, I stop and turn back toward her room. But I stop again, something in me telling me to leave her alone, to not corner her right now. I might do or say something I’ll regret.
I’d rather think things through.
But I turn and head back toward her room again. I’m not going to be passive. I was passive last night. She could have told me any time what was going on. I asked. I gave her outs. I trusted her to talk to me about important things.
I trusted her.
I shouldn’t have.
Opening her door without knocking, I see her spin to face me, shock in her lovely blue eyes. “Clint,” She says, my name a sweet whisper on her kissable lips.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand, my tone sharp as a razor.
Her lips part in shock and tears from in her eyes. But I’m not backing down now. She opened this Pandora’s box. She can damn well deal with the consequences.
Two tears roll slowly down her cheeks as she gapes at me, as if unsure how to respond to my anger. “I-” She says, her voice seeming choked by tears. Or fear. I’m scaring her. Good. Maybe she’ll know I’m not the kind of guy who lets liars get away with possibly endangering my daughter, my home, my life.
“I trusted you with Grace,” I say, advancing a step closer to her. But she doesn’t flinch back, she stands up straighter, her own anger lashing out.
“I’d never do anything to hurt her,” she hisses, anger shining in her features.
But I’m not convinced. “Really?” I say, crossing my arms. “So whoever you’re running from isn’t dangerous?”
And she snaps closed like a steel trap.
“I thought so,” I say, pushing it. “And what if I told you I loved you? That I wanted to make this real?” I gesture to the ring on the dresser. Her eyes dart to the ring and the tears come faster.
“I always loved you,” she whispers, her tone defiant even as her words indicate her shattering heart. “You just thought I was your little sister’s stupid friend.”
Wait, what?
She advances a step, poking a finger into my chest, her fury shining in her brilliant blue eyes. “I heard you tell them I was annoying. That you were glad for when I went home. You hated me.”
I’m stunned. She heard that, but she didn’t understand that I said that to protect myself. Because my buddies knew I liked her, and that that would mean torture for both of us. I was protecting her. But I was protecting myself more.
“I did say that,” I agree, and all her fire dies as she stares up at me. I wonder for a second if she expected me to lie. “But you’re wrong. I thought you were cute as hell. But I knew that you were Katie’s friend, that I could never have you. So I tried to put you out of my mind.”
Her eyes widen and all the fight seems to drain out of her.
“Did you tell my dad?” I ask, needing to know if she outed me. Though if she had, I assume Id know. I mean, dad would have brought it up, he’d have shunned me, he would have humiliated me.
She shakes her head. “What do I tell Katie?” she asks, and I shrug.
“The truth?” I say, wondering if it would be so bad.
But May closes right up. “She’d never forgive me.” Her shoulders slump and I want, more than anything, to pull her into a hug.
“So what?” If she wants something, she should step up. Her head lifts and she looks me in the eyes, her face questioning. “Isn’t it better to be honest? She’s going to find out. You said mom knew who you were, she won’t keep your secret forever you know.” The sudden panic in her features leaves me feeling a little bad for her. She really didn’t think this through.
She sinks back on the bed and I can’t help but think about how she’d looked last night, naked, riding me like a goddess out of my favorite fantasies. Damn it. No wonder I kept feeling like I knew her. That’s got to be why she felt like home. Why I’m so comfortable around her.
How didn’t I recognize her?
Because she grew up.
Her too huge eyes now fit her face. Her rounded face is more mature now, her cheekbones more defined. What was pretty then was beautiful now. She’s blossomed into a woman.
My cock is at attention again, but I know now is not the time.
“Can you give me some time?” she asks, and I nod.
“You’re going to have to face this sometime,” I tell her and she looks me dead in the eyes. There’s something in her expression that tells me she’s thinking of last night too.
Good. I want her to want me as much as I want her. I want to get through this. Together.
May
I need to get out of the house. The men are gone; I saw them ride out hours ago. Clint had studied my window, but I’d been back far enough so he couldn’t see me. With Grace at her grandparents’ house, I feel okay leaving.
And it dawns on me; I meant it when I said I’d never do anything to hurt her. I love her already.
I head to the barn. The lock is still on it, but the slack that allows the door to bang in the wind is enough for me to slip through. If I hold my breath, that is. Onside, the lights are up and I see a key hanging beside the door marked with black ink.
Spare.
Grabbing it, I use it to open the lock and the door swings open. When I turn, I see several horse heads peeking at me over stall doors and I walk around, petting faces and thinking about the animals.
Taking a saddle, I approach one of the stalls. The mare lifts her head and perks her ears. She’s got the calmest demeanor, and that’s all I need. Hanging the saddle over a sawhorse, I put the bridle hanging next to her stall on her. She accepts the bit without issue and I talk to her in a calming voice.
Taking her out of her stall, I snap her to the ring for saddling. When she’s all saddled up, the painful slamming of my heart becomes an easy beat. I can do this. I’ve got it. I’m capable. Taking her reins, I leave the barn and tie her to a post before slipping back in to lock the door again.
After a few moments of scrambling, I’m able to get in saddle. It feels like the ground is so very far away. This will clear my mind. I’ve always loved horses, and I regret not doing more with that love over the years.
Leading her back toward what looks like an established trail leading off into the desert, I suddenly feel free and happy. With a good horse under me obeying my every whim, I feel like I’m on top of the world.
Even the harsh sun feels good. It’s like I’ve been frozen to the bone for so long it’s good to just breathe and soak in the warmth. There’s a slight breeze that’s hot as can be, but it’s still heaven. There’s something so incredible about the landscape and the sensation of being out here.
Then, a wild band of mustangs spots us and they run in our direction before turning and racing into the wind like they know we’re not one of them.
But the mare I’m on takes after them like a shot. Suddenly, we’re racing over the ground and the world is flying by. There’s a flash of panic in me that I’m not in control for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by sheer adrenaline. This is fun! We’re moving so fast it feels impossibly like flight.
Suddenly the ground is flying up at me and pain screams through every inch of me. Scrub bushes claw at me and the hot sandy dirt hardly cushions my fall. Helpless, I watch the mare I was riding race off.
Taking a moment to make sure nothing is broken, I feel along my legs, pat my ribs, feeling every point of pain to make sure it’s just an impact ache. Minor cuts and bruises, nothing feels broken.
I look over the horizon. The mare will come back, right?
With the hot desert sun beating down on me, I suddenly realize how stupid I’ve been. I told no one where I was going. I didn’t pack supplies. There’s no way anyone will find me.
And with the glaring sun overhead, I begin to plan. I need to get in the shade. I need to mark this spot so if anyone comes looking, they’ll find me. I spot a jutting rock and head toward it. It’s not far, an
d I’m quick to take off my over shirt. Scaling the rock, I hang the shirt on the highest point I can so it can be seen on all sides.
Sliding down on my bottom, I slip into the shade and instantly feel cooler.
But there’s a sinking sensation that has nothing to do with my motion. I’m out here, alone. Far enough from home there’s no way I can hike it. This might be it for me. Dillon couldn’t break me, no, I can do that shit all by myself.
I’m so stupid!
As I sink onto my bottom in the dirt, I feel hot tears sting my eyes. I should have left a note. I should have done something so people would know where I went. Plan! I need to plan. After dark, I could try hiking out. I could walk home.
It’ll take a long time, but it’s cooler at night.
Exhaustion fills me and I want nothing more than to just lie down and rest. With my back to the rock, I sit in the shade, my stomach sick and my heart heavy. I’m stronger than this. I’m not going to die out here in the desert. I’ve made it through so much, I can’t just give up now.
Clint’s face comes to mind and my soul aches. He’s going to blame himself. He’s going to think this is all his fault. I know he blames himself for Amanda. But Grace came out of that. A blessing out of misery. He hadn’t put the alcohol in her hand. He hadn’t told her to drive that night. She’d made her choices.
Just like I’d decided to ride out here, alone, without supplies or a backup plan.
I’m going to be the second woman in his life to pass away. And while I’m not on the same level as she was in his life, I feel like he’s going to start turning that grief inward.
Because I’m going to die out here.
Clint
“May?” The whole house seems empty, and I wonder where she might have gone. Her car is still out front. But again, that feeling that something is wrong settles in my gut.
“Boss?” Carson asks, and I shake my head.
“Something isn’t right,” I tell him and he dips his head. We both look at the front door as Shane walks in. There’s an odd look on his face. A look I know. I walk up and grab the front of his shirt before slamming him back against the door.
His Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 72