by Amber Garza
Remembering Miss Giggles’ words, I yanked my hand back. “Or maybe you were suffering from an extreme case of writer’s block and you thought my story was sensational enough to sell.”
Hurt crossed over Kyler’s features. “Why don’t you read it and decide for yourself?”
My stomach knotted. “I don’t think I can. The first few pages were painful enough.”
“Then only read the ending.”
“Why?” I shrugged. “Why does it matter now?”
“Jade, I won’t publish it if you don’t want me to. In fact, I’ve already started something new. But I need you to read it so you know I’m the man I profess to be.”
“I don’t even know who that is anymore.”
“Yes, you do,” Kyler said firmly. “I’m the man who looks at you and sees only beauty. I’m the man who took care of you while you were healing. I’m the man who saved your life and will continue to do so for as long as you’ll let me. And I’m the man who is falling desperately for you.”
His words hit their mark, piercing my heart. I lowered the ice pack, and clutched my belly. “It’s all too much right now. I don’t know what to think.”
“That’s understandable. It’s a lot to take in.” Kyler smiled. “Why don’t you get some sleep and we can talk more in the morning?”
“Okay,” I said softly. “Just one more question.”
“Of course. Ask away.”
“How did you know where to find me tonight? And why did you have your gun?”
“When you walked out of here, I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing you again. I needed to find you so I could explain everything. To make you understand. So I went all over town. At first I tried the bus station, but the attendant hadn’t seen you. Next I searched all the abandoned barns and houses, but you weren’t there. So then I tried the motels. There are only two in Red Blossom. When I called the one you were at, the guy who answered the phone said that you were a pretty popular girl and that I wasn’t the first guy who had called looking for you. So I kind of figured your dad had found you.”
I tossed the ice pack from one hand to the other, picturing Kyler frantically looking for me. The guy who never left his house spent two days combing the town for me. My head was spinning.
“Here.” Kyler reached out. “I’ll take the ice pack.”
I dropped it in his palm, his fingers gently brushing mine. It brought back a rush of emotions, and it took all my willpower not to throw myself into his arms. But I kept myself rooted in place, fighting against the powerful urge. I needed more time to think, more time to process everything. I only hoped Kyler was patient enough to give me the time I needed.
TWENTY-SEVEN
As exhausted as I was, I hardly slept. I tossed and turned all night thinking about Kyler’s confession. I wasn’t angry with him about what happened when we were kids. No one understood better than me what it was like to be young and afraid; to be frightened of your dad. In fact, I think it took a lot of bravery for him to call the police at all. I’m not sure I would’ve done that for someone I didn’t even know.
And I wasn’t upset that he didn’t tell me who he was. Even that made sense to me. I was already so skittish when I showed up here. There’s no way in hell I would’ve stayed if he had revealed that he was my childhood neighbor.
But the part I couldn’t get past was the book. I didn’t understand how he could write about me, pen the intimate details of my life and capitalize on my private pain.
“I want to read it.” I found him in the kitchen early in the morning. He had already brewed a pot of coffee, and from the looks of him I would say he hadn’t slept a wink either.
He nodded and, without a word, sauntered past me. When he returned he had a thick stack of papers in his hand. He thrust them into mine. My insides coiled when my gaze connected with the title page. “I have no idea if I’ll ever be okay with this, but right off the bat I may need you to change the title.”
“I’ll do whatever you want, Jade.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re serious? You really won’t publish this book if I don’t want you to?”
“Of course I’m serious. The decision is yours.”
“But you spent so much time on it.” I was dumbfounded. “And this is your job.”
“You’re more important than any of that.” Kyler stepped forward, his fingers gently lighting on my arm. “Besides, I meant what I said. I wrote it for you. So even if you’re the only one who ever reads it, it will have served its purpose.”
Mute, I stared at him for a couple minutes.
“What?” Kyler finally asked, cutting through the awkward silence.
“I don’t get you. You’re the most confusing person I’ve ever met.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Will you let me know when you do?”
I smiled, the exchange reminding me of the conversation we had on my first day here. “Yes, I will.” Clutching the papers to my chest, I went into the family room and plunked down on the couch. I thumbed through the papers until I found the last chapter. Kyler said I only had to read the last one, and that’s all I planned to do. I didn’t have any desire to relive all my beatings again. Settling in, I took a deep breath and started reading.
“He can’t hurt me again?” Alison asked, her eyebrows raising ever so slightly.
“Never again.” Brady’s hand palmed Alison’s cheek. His thumb traced her scars. To him she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“So I’m free?”
“You’re free. Free to do and be whatever you want.”
“What if what I want is to stay here with you?” She lifted her chin, and Brady wanted nothing more than to kiss the inside of her neck, to touch her porcelain skin, to feel her body against his. But he’d wait. Wait until she was ready. Wait until she made her move. The last thing Brady wanted to do was scare her or pressure her in any way. She was fragile, and she was precious to him. He planned to make sure she felt that way always.
“Then you can. But I won’t force you. I’ll never force you.” Brady swept his arms around the room, the lavish mansion he called home.
I paused, craning my neck. Kyler still stood in the kitchen drinking coffee. “You wrote yourself living in a mansion?”
He grinned. “Not me. Brady. It’s fiction, remember?”
“It sure is,” I teased, my gaze scouring the small room.
“Want some coffee while you read?”
“I’ll have some when I finish.” I didn’t want any interruptions. Now I was anxious to know how Alison’s story ended. Was she really free? For some reason I felt like I had a lot riding on the answer.
“But this home is always open to you. You’re always welcome here.”
“That’s good.” She leaned forward, her face nearing his. “Because I love it here.”
“I’m glad, because I love having you here.” Brady’s arms circled her waist.
“And you promise he’s gone for good?”
Brady tightened his hold. “He is. I saw his corpse before they lowered him into the ground.”
“I never thought this day would come. I never thought I’d be able to stop looking over my shoulder.”
“No more looking over your shoulder. You can rest easy now.”
“Thank you.” Her lips pressed to Brady’s tenderly. He wanted to kiss her with everything in him, but he held back, allowing her to take command. At first her kiss was soft and light, as if she was hesitant, unsure. But then the kiss became more firm, more confident. Brady responded with vigor, tasting how sweet she was, savoring the feel of her tongue in his mouth, of her hands in his hair.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered into her mouth, wanting to say more, wanting to do more. He wished he could give her the world. He wished he could wipe away all her pain, remove all the hurtful things that had ever happened to her. If only he could erase the evil that had been inflicted on
her, he would. For her happiness he would give up anything. He would let her go, release her, if that’s what she wanted. He would sacrifice his own life if need be.
She didn’t stiffen when he told her this time. She was starting to believe him, and that gave Brady satisfaction. Maybe that was the way he could erase her pain. Perhaps there was no magic formula. No potion to take away her memories. But he could replace her bad ones with good ones. He could replace the hurtful, deceptive words, with life-giving, truthful ones.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, his lips sliding over her skin. “I love you, Alison. More than I ever thought possible. And I will love you and keep you safe for the rest of our lives.”
I stopped reading and turned around. “When did you write this?”
“The day before you left.” Kyler entered the room, holding a mug of coffee in his hand. He held it out to me. “Here.”
I took the coffee, wrapping my fingers around it. “So before the confrontation in the hotel room?”
He nodded.
“Were you planning to kill him?” I took a sip of the coffee and then set it down on the end table.
Kyler came around the couch, and knelt before me. He touched the pages of the book with his fingers. “This book is fiction. It’s about Brady and Alison. She was attacked like you were, but the attacker wasn’t her dad. The only similarity at all was that she was burned. You were the inspiration, but it isn’t your story. I wanted to write about someone like you, someone who’d endured similar pain so I could show you that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. That things can turn around, and that out of the ashes can come beauty. And I didn’t know your dad’s lighter was red. That was just a bizarre coincidence. I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t fantasized about killing your dad for hurting you, but honestly I never dreamt it would come to that. I never thought he’d find you here.” Shoving the papers aside, he took my hand in his, weaving our fingers together. “But the part that is true is how I feel about you. I do love you, Jade. I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I do. I think I’ve loved you since the first week you were here. I love every single thing about you. And if you’ll stay here with me, I promise to make you happy and to keep you safe, like Brady promised Alison.”
Tears pricked the back of my eyes. No one had ever told me they loved me before. The walls around my heart crumbled, like an explosion in my chest. I rocked forward, but Kyler caught me in his arms. My hands came up around his face, my fingers tracing the stubble along his chin. “I know how much you hate sappy romances, but I gotta be honest, this scene you wrote was pretty sappy. And so was your little monologue you just gave.” A smile played on my lips. “I mean, you’ve completely ruined the whole dark and brooding vibe you had going on.”
“Sorry.” He grinned.
“But I loved it.” I kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Thank you for dreaming up a happy ending for me, Kyler.”
“I told you I would.”
“I’m not sure your publisher will like it though.”
His eyebrows raised. “Are you saying that I can publish it?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” My fingers moved from his face to his neck, and they wove through his hair. “You’ve never done anything to hurt me. And even though you didn’t rescue me when we were kids, you rescued me now. So, I trust you. Besides, you weren’t the only one who hid things.” I swallowed hard. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
“Jade, it’s okay.” He swept a strand of hair from my face. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
I smiled sadly. “But I need you to know. You think you love me-”
“I do love you.”
I held up my hand. “Let me finish. You think you love me, but you don’t really know me. Before I came here I was a junkie. I spent every day high as a flippin’ kite.”
“I already know.”
My eyes widened. “You do?” Man, was there anything this guy didn’t know about me?
He smiled. “Jade, you threw up your first morning here, you slept constantly, and then there was the horrific nosebleed. Also, you were practically emaciated when I found you. It was pretty obvious.”
“But if you knew, why did you let me stay here?”
“We all cope in our own ways, Jade. That girl I found in the barn wasn’t you. Not the real you. The woman I’ve gotten to know over the last couple of months is the real you.”
“Only because you let me be myself.”
Kyler’s face inched closer to mine. “Does this mean that being confusing is a good thing?”
“In your case, yes.”
“So, you’ll stay?”
“Yes.”
“Can I please kiss you now? I’m dying here.”
I giggled.
Kyler groaned. “Oh, man, you’re killing me now.”
Without saying a word, I crushed my lips to his. This time there was no going slow. Our lips moved swiftly, greedily. I tumbled forward, falling off the couch and onto Kyler’s lap, our bodies tangling together. His hands skated across my skin, raking up my back and into my hair. It was a push and pull, a give and take. We were a jumble of manic lips, jerky movements and gasping breaths. I gripped the collar of his shirt, holding tight. With his lips still on mine, I said the words I’d never said to anyone before.
“I love you, Kyler.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
“What do you think?” I nudged Kyler in the shoulder as he finished reading the last page. It was early evening and we were sitting on the couch in the living room. Edgar was curled up by my feet, and every once in awhile his fur tickled my toes.
The light streaming from the lamp next to me glinted in Kyler’s glasses when he looked up at me. His hand still rested on the top page. As a breeze blew in through the open window, the pages ruffled around his fingers. “It was good. Really good.”
“You mean it?” I chewed on my bottom lip, my whole body a mess of nerves.
“Yes, Jade, I mean it.” He smiled, plucking off his glasses. “You’re no Kyler James, but you’ll get there.”
Rolling my eyes, I giggled.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you laugh.”
“It’s a good thing, because if you plan to keep making jokes like that you better get used to it.”
“Hey.” Kyler feigned offense. “I’ll have you know my last book made it to the New York Times Bestseller list.”
“I feel like I should take some credit for that too.” I winked. “You know, since I was your muse and all.”
Edgar lifted his head and let out a little bark. I leaned down, rubbing his back.
“See, even Edgar agrees with me.”
“Traitor,” Kyler said to him. “Always siding with the pretty one.”
“Well, I have become his favorite.” I petted Edgar once again. “Haven’t I, buddy?”
“Okay, now you’re just making me jealous.”
I sat up straight, wiping my hands on my pants. Dog hair stuck to the soft fabric. “I was teasing. You’re still his favorite, I’m sure.”
Kyler chuckled. “That’s not what I meant.” His gaze darted to my hands, and then I understood.
I scooted closer to him, reaching out and running my hand down his arm. Kyler tossed my manuscript aside, a hungry gleam in his eye. His fingers curled around mine.
“There’s one part of your book that I am curious about though.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Is the sexy hero me? Or should I start brushing up on my boxing skills?”
“You’re a boxer too?” I asked. “What other hidden talents do I not know about?”
Kyler took me in his arms. “If I told you then they wouldn’t be hidden.”
“Good point.” I stamped a kiss on his lips. “But no, you’re not the hero. This is fiction, Kyler,” I said, using his own words against him.
“What you’re telling me is that now I have to fight an imaginary guy for you
?”
“No. You’ve already fought enough of my battles.” I snuggled into him, resting my head on his shoulder. His hair brushed over my forehead, and I caught that familiar scent of his that I loved so much. “Dad and Heath are in jail where they belong. I’m safe now.”
“Safe.” Kyler wrapped his arms around me tightly. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” I murmured into his chest.
“What are your plans with your book?” Kyler asked. “Want me to show it to my publisher?”
“No, I think I’d like to do this on my own. I don’t want to always wonder if I only got published because my boyfriend helped me.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
It still shocked me a little when Kyler complimented me. After years of being called names, it was hard to get used to someone praising me. But then again, it had only been six months. I was sure that as time passed, so would the scars. Not the physical ones. Those would be there forever. The burn marks would forever be a part of my skin. But Kyler was healing the ones deep inside, the ones on my heart. His love was changing me, transforming me.
“I still can’t believe I wrote a book.” When Kyler first suggested it, I thought he was crazy. But then one day I decided to give it a shot. I figured it couldn’t hurt. However, even then I didn’t think I would actually finish it. And I never imagined it would be any good. “I never thought I had it in me.”
“I did.” Kyler kissed the crown of my head. His heartbeat fluttered against my cheek. “You have a great imagination, and it shows in your writing. Honestly, you have a gift.”
It was true that my imagination had been saving me for years. It had gotten me through the most horrific times of my life. Now I could use it for something more pleasurable. Something lucrative, maybe. Imagine me - abused child, drug addict, battered woman - becoming a successful author. A year ago, I would’ve said it was impossible. But Kyler had taught me to dream. Now I was starting to believe I could do anything.