“I woke up the next morning sore, bleeding, with a black eye and bruised knuckles without a clue where I was. I thought...I thought I did something horrible. I couldn’t find Meghan, and Nick wouldn’t answer the phone. Fuck me. It was bad.”
Kyla nuzzled his shoulder, making those cute little snuffling sounds. Suddenly he felt suffocated. He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t deserve her sweet, understanding touch. She needed to know who he was.
“Apparently before I passed out that night, I beat up Nick. I still don’t really know why. Sometime later that night things went south, words were said. And I beat the shit out of my best friend. I don’t remember any of it. I just know I got drunk and my best friend got whaled on so bad he had to be hospitalized. He spent three days in the hospital because of me. I did that. I turned into a monster. Nick wouldn’t see me. I couldn’t apologize and make it right. Not that there was anything I could say that would’ve made it right.”
“Sawy—”
He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees. “They should’ve thrown me in jail—it was the least I deserved—but Nick refused to press charges. Not that he told me. Meghan did a week later when she came to my parents’ house to return my letterman jacket and break up with me. She couldn’t stand to look at me after what I did to Nick. Because I’m an ass. Because I’ve got his blood running through my veins. Only I’m worse. He used words to beat people down and I used my fists. So I left town. I left my friends, my fucked-up family, I left it all behind and moved to Vegas.”
“But you were a kid.”
Sawyer flinched at the feeling of Kyla’s hand on his shoulder.
“You were young and stupid and you didn’t do anything that can’t be forgiven. You’re a good man, Sawyer.”
The naivety of her statement pissed him off. Wasn’t she listening? Didn’t she know what a mess he was? “You wanna know what a good man I am?” He pivoted and crouched over her. “I wasn’t thinking good thoughts when I saw you standing practically nude in front of Grayden. Or when I saw his lips on you. I wanted to kick his ass three ways to Sunday.”
Kyla stared calmly back at him. “But you didn’t.”
“I—What?”
“You might have thought all that but you didn’t do anything. You’re not your father, Sawyer. You’ve never said one demeaning thing to me or about me. You don’t drink. You might think up some seriously demented and kinky things, but you’re not a bad man. You’re you.”
His hand, which had been fisted in her hair, went lax.
“You’re a good man, Sawyer.”
He rolled over to lie next to her. Staring up at the ceiling once again, he tried to process what she told him. What she thought of him. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard someone tell him that his past didn’t define him. The few friends he’d trusted with his fucked-up background had said as much. But somehow, the fact that it came from Kyla meant more. To know that someone like her could see beneath his façade and still tell him that he was a good man hit him deep inside.
“And I seriously doubt there’s anything you can say to me that will make me change my mind.” Kyla leaned over and took his lips with hers. Her sweet and tender kiss was everything he wasn’t. Everything he told himself he could never be.
After a moment she drew back and cuddled up against his side once more.
“Now can we get some sleep finally?”
Sawyer’s shoulders shook with his silent laugh. “I should’ve known.”
Kyla groaned. “Ugh. What now?”
“I should’ve known from the beginning you were different.”
“And why’s that?” He could tell from her tone that she was smiling.
“Maybe ’cause I never said word one about you on Twitter. Or my blog. Or my podcast. You’re different.”
Kyla gave him a kiss on his shoulder and didn’t say a word.
Because apparently, nothing more needed saying.
Chapter Nineteen
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to pop the question.” Sawyer groaned as he reached for a hold a little higher up. His foot dislodged some pebbles, sending them down the rock face in a tinkling shower. “I mean, I could have at least helped you out at the jewelry store.”
“Yeah, right. There was no way in hell I was tipping you off on my plans. I didn’t want the whole spiel about the end of my life.” Jamie let out some more slack as Sawyer climbed higher. “I knew exactly what you’d say. And I didn’t need to hear it—I’d already made up my mind.”
Sawyer stopped in his tracks at Jamie’s assumption of his disapproval. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt him a bit. He truly wanted the best for his friend. Granted, he would’ve enjoyed ribbing him a little—okay, a lot—but he was happy for his buddy. “Sure I would’ve given you a bit of hell, but I’d’ve helped. I think you and Lauren are great together. I’m happy for you, man.”
“No shit?”
“Yup. I think Lauren’s too good for a son of a bitch like you. But if she’s foolish enough to fall for your line of bullshit, I say grab her while you can.”
Jamie let out more slack as he rubbed the sweat away from his face with a bent arm. “Holy shit. Where’s an audience when you need one? No one’s gonna believe me. Sawyer is giving his blessing to an engagement? Call the presses.”
“Can you shut up? My arms are killing me. I don’t need you piling more shit on me. I gotta be the slowest fucking lead climber out here today because I gotta keep stopping to listen to your bullshit.”
Jamie ignored him. “I think I detect a chink in the armor. Could it have something to do with a certain short little blonde gymnast?”
“I swear to God you’ve been spending too much time with Lauren. You’re starting to sound like her, for Christ’s sake.”
Jamie let out a huge, guffawing laugh. “You like her. Holy shit. Big, bad Sawyer has fallen for a girl.”
Sawyer looked away and continued to climb. He wasn’t ready to admit as much to himself. He sure as hell wasn’t going to yell it from the mountain top like some schmuck in a corny rom-com. Stopping to shake out the soreness in his arms, he yelled down at Jamie, “I’m not kidding, man. My forearms are pumped here. Shut the fuck up.”
“Never thought I’d see the day Sawyer liked a chick. I think the world might be ending. I pop the question, and you’re into a girl. All we need is an earthquake, and the apocalypse is nigh.”
Sawyer shook his head. “You would talk about an earthquake when I’m fifty feet up a vertical face.”
“Oooooooooh, it must be serious if he doesn’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine. If I admit I like her, will you leave me alone? I’m not kidding—my arms are burning.”
Jamie shaded his eyes with one hand while he peered up at Sawyer. “Nah, I don’t need confirmation. Your face says it all.”
“Finally.” Sawyer waited a beat, then stretched for the next handhold. He didn’t want to think about what Jamie had said. How the hell did they go from talking about Jamie’s engagement to his own relationship with Kyla?
Did he just say relationship?
His hand slipped.
Fuck, he needed to concentrate on the climb. And not on all this girl bullshit Jamie had put in his head. He was an experienced climber—this ascend should’ve been a breeze. They should’ve been at the top already, prepping to rappel down.
His hand slipped a second time.
“Jamie, hold up a sec.”
“Christ, Sawyer. I didn’t even rib ya that much. Unclench. If it’s any consolation, I had a hard time getting used to the idea too.”
“No, I need a—” His leg started to Elvis on him. The uncontrolled shaking pushed him off balance and he lost his hold. Crimping his fingers on the thin edge of rock, he tried to get hi
s feet back on the perch. “Fuck, man, I’m bad off here.”
“What? Shit. Hold on, man I’m gonna—”
Whatever he said next was drowned out by the waterfall of rock. Sawyer had only a second to try a new grip as the rock fell from under his feet. The combination of sweat and lack of options made it impossible. With no foothold, he was well and truly screwed. His legs pinwheeled, scrabbling for a grip. Finding none and his arms burning, Sawyer held with one crimped hand and reached for an impossible hold with the other.
“Fuck!”
His one good hold slipped. And he was falling.
Falling.
Rock and brush ripped through every patch of exposed skin as he fought for purchase.
And then everything went black.
* * *
Kyla raced down the pristine hallway in a blind panic. Sawyer was hurt. Sawyer was hurt. Her mind couldn’t seem to move past that one sentence. Sawyer was hurt.
She stopped when she reached the reception desk. The woman behind it kept typing and didn’t look up at her.
“S-S-Sawyer.” Kyla breathed heavily.
The woman didn’t acknowledge her.
“I need to know where Sawyer is!”
Apparently her screech did the job. “Ma’am. If you’ll take a seat I’ll be with you just as—”
“No. I need to know. Sawyer. Is he—I mean, he’s okay? It’s not serious?”
“Ma’am, like I said, you need to take a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment. Or I can have security escort you out.”
Nonplussed, Kyla stared at the receptionist in befuddlement. Didn’t she know this was important? They were in a hospital, for crying out loud. Of course it was important!
Nevertheless, she stepped back and waited impatiently.
Finally, after what felt like eons, the woman looked up. “How may I help you?”
“Sawyer. Where—what’s his condition?”
“His last name?”
“What?”
The woman gave her a fake smile. “I need a last name to look him up in our system.”
Confused, she stared blankly back at the clerk. Last name? He was Sawyer. The man didn’t need a last name. Everyone in her world knew who Sawyer was. Did he even have a last name?
“Ma’am, I can’t help you without a last name.”
“I-I-I don’t know. His name’s Sawyer.” Her stomach knotted. How could she not know his last name? After over a whole month together, how had that never come up?
“I understand that, but I can’t find him in our system with only a first name.”
Frustrated, Kyla stepped back and whipped out her cell phone. She scrolled through the list of contacts until she found Lauren’s number. Pushing the button, she waited anxiously for her to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Lauren. Where—how is Sawyer? Is he okay? Where are you guys?”
“Whoa. Calm down, Kyla. He’s okay. He hasn’t been admitted yet. We’re in the E.R.”
Kyla shoved the phone in her purse and took off running for the E.R.
“Stop! Ma’am, you can’t run in here.”
Whatever else the unhelpful clerk said was drowned out by the sound of her own thundering footsteps as she raced toward the E.R. Slamming through the swinging doors, she stopped short at the scene of chaos surrounding her. A sea of scrubs and curtains and beds met her on the other side of the door. She looked left and right but couldn’t see Sawyer anywhere.
“Sir, if you’ll just hold still.” The insistent tone drew her attention.
“Kyla. Kyla! Over here.”
Kyla turned in the direction of the shout and found Sawyer struggling with a nurse as he waved her over.
“Sir, stop fidgeting.”
He was alive. Sitting up and talking.
She raced over to his side and stared down at him through misty eyes. Her heart pounded in her ears. “Oh my gosh, Sawyer. I can’t believe— What happened? I’m so glad you’re all right.”
She wanted to touch him but wasn’t sure where she could without causing him any more discomfort. His hands were a discolored mess of torn-up skin and pebbles. His shins, too. And his ankle looked more like a knee with the size of its swelling. She settled for his face and bent down to give him a kiss on the one cheek that wasn’t a scratched-up mess.
“Ah, Kyla. I didn’t want you to see me like this. I’m fine. Just some bumps and scratches.”
A fifty-ish woman in pink nursing scrubs bent over the side of his bed, busy digging out the debris in his hand, murmured, “And maybe a broken ankle.”
Kyla gasped.
“It’s not broken. I’d know if my ankle was broken.”
“Not necessarily,” the nurse sang.
Sawyer glared at her, then turned to Kyla. “I’m fine, really. Nothing to worry about here.”
Kyla took a deep breath and tried to believe him. He was in front of her. Talking to her. He was fine. After a moment the light-headed feeling left and her breathing slowed somewhat.
“Good news, Mr. Adams.”
Kyla flinched at the name. Adams. Adam. Hospital. Death. The harsh antiseptic smell filled her nose.
“It’s not broken. Looks to be a sprain. If you’ll...”
Whatever else the doctor said was drowned out by the buzzing in her ears. She swayed as the memories came crashing down on her.
I’m sorry, miss, but his parents decided to stop life support.
“Kyla? Kyla, you okay?”
From the end of the tunnel, she could hear Sawyer saying something to her.
Sawyer. The doctor said he was fine, she reminded herself. But still she couldn’t help thinking that he could die in some thoughtless accident like Adam did. And she wouldn’t have any say. No one would care. She wasn’t even his girlfriend. But she was starting to have serious feelings for him. Feelings he’d never returned. An ache blossomed in her chest.
Sawyer would leave her too. How much more would it hurt this time?
“Kyla? Did you hear the doc? It’s just a sprain. I’ll be fine. I took a little tumble. That’s all.”
“Little tumble? Dammit, man, you fell fifteen feet. Wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t skipped that last tie-in,” Jamie said from his chair on the other side of the bed.
Kyla felt all the blood drain from her head. She swayed, unsteady on her feet.
“Fuck, Jamie. Shut up already.”
Jamie took one look at her, then closed his mouth with an audible click.
“Really, I’m fine, poppet.”
“Fine?” Kyla let out a harsh barking laugh. “Sure you are. This time. But you’re not invincible. What you are is fucking selfish. You’re out there taking ridiculous risks when there are people who care about you. People who worry about you. But then, you don’t give a damn, do you? You only care about what you want and screw everyone else.”
Sawyer stared mutely back at her.
“Last week it was your seatbelt. Today you skipped a tie-in while climbing out in the middle of nowhere. What crazy risk are you going to take next week?” She couldn’t do this again. She couldn’t be here. She had to go.
Without acknowledging anyone around her, she backed up from his bedside and took a few steps away. Then she turned and walked away without a word. After a few steps, her walk turned into a run as she left the hospital, Sawyer and all her painful heartache behind her.
Chapter Twenty
Kyla sat in Sawyer’s driveway, gripping the steering wheel in a death clutch. She couldn’t do this. He’d only been out of the hospital for two days. She couldn’t add to his pain.
Or would he care? Heck, she was probably only the latest in a long line of women who’d gotten too attached. It was amazing he hadn’t
had the talk with her first.
Taking a deep breath, she left her car and walked up to his door. Three steps away, the door sprang open and suddenly he was there, leaning on crutches in front of her. Gaston pushed past him and ran straight to her. She kneeled down to meet him. Using the convenient excuse, she buried her face in his coat to avoid Sawyer’s eyes.
“I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to come in.”
Her heart lurched at the familiar sound of his voice. She gave Gaston a pat and stood to face Sawyer. But first she had to clear her throat. Somehow it had suddenly gotten husky. “Are you—are you feeling better?”
Sawyer cocked his head. “Nothing a little time and a little bed rest won’t cure. I feel the need for your healing hands right now, as a matter of fact.”
If it were possible, her heart grew even heavier. “Sawyer, no. Stop. I just... I can’t.”
He blinked. “Can’t what?”
“I can’t do this. Us.” Kyla took a deep breath and focused on his bandaged hands. The sight of his wounds gave her the impetus she needed. “I know you promised to introduce me to some good tops, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. I can’t spend any more time with you.”
“Kyla—”
“No. I can’t. You don’t understand. I’m starting to fall for you. And I can’t. I can’t be with you and not want more. I can’t do the lighthearted, fun thing now. I want more... And I’m scared.”
“Kyla.” His sweet, gentle tone brought tears to her eyes. But she had to finish. She had to finish before she collapsed in a weepy mess all over him.
“No. I came by to make sure you’re all right. And to say thank you. So thanks,” she finished lamely, then cleared her throat. “I think I know now what I’m looking for at least. I’ve learned a lot.”
With one last weak smile and pat to Gaston, she turned and walked away.
“Kyla, stop.” His intimidating dom voice stirred up butterflies in her stomach, but she simply shook her head and kept walking.
Up In Knots Page 17