Her Favorite Rival

by Sarah Mayberry

  Then Leah had been born and started showing signs of being a gifted child from an early age. All of a sudden Leah became the focus, and the pressure was off for Audrey.

  She’d been relieved at first. Then, in the way of children, she’d done her best to earn back some of the attention and focus she’d once enjoyed. She’d never been as smart or as good as Leah, though. For a brief period she’d acted out, but that got her little joy. By the time she was sixteen, she’d resigned herself to being the also-ran daughter.

  And then she’d met Johnny and he had looked at her with desire and hung on her every word and worshipped her. And she’d been so hungry for all of the above that she’d given him whatever he asked for and followed wherever he led her—to parties, to clubs, to squats he and his friends were illegally occupying. And, finally, out her bedroom window so they could start their life together—a bold experiment that had encompassed sleeping rough on the streets when they couldn’t find a suitably vacant house or building, and stealing and begging to buy food and drink and drugs. She’d survived a torrid, scary, blurry eighteen months before being admitted to the hospital with life-threatening pneumonia after collapsing at a train station in the city.

  Audrey could still remember how scared and hopeful and desperate she’d been when she’d finally allowed the hospital to contact her parents. She’d wanted them to love her so badly. For her absence to have somehow elevated her in their eyes to someone worthy of their affection and attention. They’d come running, gratifyingly tearful and grateful she was still alive. And angry, so very angry, that she’d put them through eighteen months of hell.

  “You want another round?”

  Audrey blinked, dragging her thoughts from the past and focusing on the tattoo-covered waitress hovering at the head of their booth.

  “Um, sure. Yes, thanks,” she said.

  “Me, too.”

  Leah waited till the waitress was gone before speaking again. “I had a feeling you didn’t know about the surgery thing. She only told me recently. A cautionary tale in case I was planning on getting close enough to another human being to have sex. I saw your face when we were talking about it at my birthday lunch and it hit me that you didn’t know. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

  “No. I didn’t know. I always thought I was a disappointment. And sometimes I thought I was imagining all of it, that there was something needy and small in me that reacted against you being praised. That I was simply jealous. Envious.”

  It was hard to articulate the things she’d always kept a lid on. The ugliest parts of herself. Because, of course, she had envied Leah at times. She’d coveted the smiles and approval her sister seemed to receive so effortlessly, simultaneously hating herself for being petty and jealous and needy.

  Such a vicious cycle, all of it. The only way she’d even come close to stopping it was to build her own life, a world that existed independently of her parents and her sister. The moment she’d earned enough from her warehouse job at Makers to make it financially viable for her to leave home, she had, and she hadn’t looked back.

  Hadn’t wanted to. Hadn’t needed to, because she’d been too busy building herself an unassailable fortress. A career she could be proud of. Financial security. Achievements she could hang her hat on. A sense of self-worth that came from within, not from anything her parents might bestow on her.

  And mostly it worked. Mostly it protected her.

  And now her sister was asking Audrey to lower the drawbridge and let her in. Telling her she’d been right to build her walls, that she admired her for it. That she was ashamed of the part she’d played in the sad family drama that had led them here.

  “You wouldn’t be human if you hadn’t been jealous. As for what happened with Johnny... It’s hardly a miracle, is it, that you took off when there was so little for you at home.”

  “No.”

  Audrey reached for her drink, only to realize it had been taken away and the new one hadn’t arrived yet. Her hand was shaking, and she dropped it into her lap and clasped it with her other one. Holding it steady, even though the last thing she felt was steady.

  “Are you okay?” Leah asked, frowning.

  “Yes. I might...” Audrey stood and gestured toward the bathrooms. She didn’t wait for her sister to respond, making her way there. She wasn’t sure what would happen once she arrived, her insides were in such turmoil. The answer burned its way up her throat as she entered the cubicle and shut the door. She didn’t throw up, even though she really felt as though she needed to.

  Shaky and on the verge of tears, she rinsed her mouth and washed her face. Megan was right—nausea was horrible. Definitely one of her least favorite things in the world, right up there with the anxiety that was jangling its way through her body. Drying her face, she tried to find some calm.

  It was beyond her. Her sister had torn the scab off old wounds, and feelings and thoughts Audrey had buried years ago were rising up to assail her. No matter how many deep breaths she took she couldn’t seem to get enough air, and the walls still felt as though they were closing in.

  I need to get out of here. I can’t do this.

  She didn’t question the impulse. She left the bathroom and returned to her sister.

  “I’m really sorry, Leah, but I need to go. I need to...process some of this, I guess. I feel a bit like I’ve been kicked in the head.”

  Leah’s face was creased with concern. “Because I dumped all this on you like an idiot. I’m so sorry, Audrey. I was so caught up in wanting to get this all of my chest, wanting to clear my plate, but I’ve dumped it all on you instead, haven’t I?”

  “It’s fine. It’s good. And I’ll be okay. It’s just... I try not to think about this stuff too much, you know?”

  “I know.”

  “But maybe we could do this again some time soon? Dinner, I mean.”

  “I would really, really like that.” Leah stood and embraced her, pressing her cheek against Audrey’s.

  It took her a moment to return the embrace, and when she did she did so fiercely.

  “I do appreciate you being brave enough to bring this stuff up,” Audrey said.

  Because how many families sailed along and ignored all the hurts they inflicted on each other?

  “I love you. I haven’t said that to you nearly enough, but I do. I love you, Aud.”

  “I love you, too, Leah.”

  They broke their embrace and Audrey took a step backward. Needing to be outside now. Alone. That was the way she was used to dealing with the tough stuff—on her own.

  She made her way upstairs and outside and sucking in big lungfuls of cool night air. It didn’t stop the tears from flowing as she strode toward the parking garage, but that was okay. There were only strangers to witness them and she could live with that.

  Somehow she managed to slot enough money into the machine to get out of the lot, then she was driving home, the need to be in her place, with her things around her, to be safe, almost overpowering.

  She was nearly home when her phone rang. She wasn’t going to answer it, then she thought it might be Leah, checking on her, and she didn’t want her sister to think she’d driven into a tree or something.

  “Hello?”

  “Audrey. Hey. I figured you’d still be out for dinner with your sister. I was going to leave a dirty, desperate message on your voice mail.” Zach’s voice filled her car, deep and resonant and familiar.

  Suddenly the tears that had been tapering off started again, filling her throat, stealing her breath.

  “Audrey? Are you still there?”

  She sucked in a breath, using her forearm to wipe her face. “I’m here. Sorry. Now isn’t a great time to talk. Can I call you later?”

  “Are you okay? You sound upset.”

  “I’m fine.” She injected a note of brightness into her voice. “Just a little tired.”

  He was silent for a moment. “Okay. Call me if you need anything, okay?”


  “Thanks. I will.” She managed to hold it together until he hung up, then she pulled over and rested her arms on her steering wheel and howled her eyes out.

  She felt so hollow, so sad, so alone. Feelings she’d been fighting all her life. Dumb to let them swamp her now at this age. She had a great life. Sure, her family was a little messed up, but whose wasn’t? There was no reason for her to be distraught because Leah had shone a light on the monsters under the bed.

  Audrey started her car, glancing around to get her bearings. Suddenly the thought of spending the evening alone seemed unbearable. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts and memories.

  Call me if you need anything.

  Zach’s words echoed in her head. She couldn’t show up all tear-soaked and pathetic and launch herself at him. They’d been seeing each other less than a week. No way was she subjecting him to that.

  It would be pathetic. And needy. He’d probably run a mile. He’d probably wonder what he’d gotten himself mixed up with.

  Megan. She could go to Megan’s place. Megan would listen and offer tissues and get angry on her behalf and hold her while she cried.

  But she didn’t want Megan.

  She wanted Zach. She wanted to put her head on his shoulder. She wanted the already-familiar weight of his body pressing hers into the bed. They didn’t need to talk. They could have sex and then she could fall asleep in his arms and simply being surrounded by his solid warmth and confidence and sureness would make things recede to their proper perspective.

  She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, undecided. Then she signaled and made a U-turn, driving toward the city.

  The light was on in the front room at Zach’s place so she figured he was still awake, a not unreasonable assumption given it was relatively early. She grabbed her handbag and walked up the path and knocked, both hands fisted around the leather of the strap.

  He looked surprised when he answered. “Audrey.”

  “You said if I needed anything, I should call you.”

  “I did.”

  “Okay. I need you to take me to bed and not ask any questions. Can you do that?”

  He was silent as his gaze scanned her face. “Yes. Of course.”

  She felt the press of tears again and she blinked rapidly to dispel them. “Thank you.”

  “Come here.”

  He held his arms open and she walked into them. He kissed her temple, then her forehead, and she lifted her head so he could access her mouth.

  It didn’t take long for desire, sweet and sharp and demanding, to replace the shaky feeling inside her. She pushed Zach inside his house and shut the door before tugging at the tie on her dress.

  He frowned slightly, and she could feel his concern, but she pressed kisses to his neck and slid her hand into the waistband of his jeans.

  “Take me to bed,” she whispered against his skin. “Make me forget my name for a little while.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  EVEN THOUGH EVERYTHING in him wanted to ensure that Audrey was okay, that there wasn’t some guy he needed to pound into hamburger or some other act of vengeance he needed to wreak on her behalf, Zach honored his promise and led her into his bedroom.

  He didn’t turn on the light, instinctively knowing that the dark was more comforting. He helped her slip her dress off and unzip her boots, then he shed his own clothes and joined her on the bed.

  His mind might be preoccupied, but his body knew what it was doing, and soon there was only the silk of her skin beneath his hands as he made love to her. She was silent and intense, her body quivering with need, and he wrapped his arms around her as he slid inside her. She clung to him, the two of them rocking in a shared rhythm. He knew when she was close and he stroked her to climax, quickly following her. When he kissed her temple afterward he tasted the salt of tears and never wanted to let her go.

  She fell asleep almost immediately, curled against his body, and he ached for her, wanted to right the wrong that had caused her so much pain. Whatever it was. Whoever it was.

  That she had come to him, that she’d chosen him to trust with her hurt, filled him with a fierce sense of gratitude. He wanted to make this woman happy. He wanted to protect her from the world’s harshest blows. He wanted to cherish her.

  So much so that it was a little scary. He refused to be scared, though. Audrey was the woman he’d been waiting his whole life to meet. Strong and vulnerable, courageous, clever, kind, generous... He could go on.

  And she’d come to him in her hour of need.

  She stirred after half an hour, pushing away from him. He let her go, then rolled out of bed and went into the kitchen. He poured a glass of water and headed to the bedroom. At the last minute he detoured to the bathroom and grabbed a box of tissues, too.

  He didn’t turn on the light, setting both items on the bedside table before climbing into bed.

  “Water,” he said, passing the glass to her.

  “Thank you.”

  She drank, then set down the glass. He lifted his arm, silently inviting her closer, and she rested her head on his chest and fitted her body along his.

  “Sorry,” she said after a moment.

  “For?”

  “Using you as a sex aid.”

  He laughed. “Was that what that was?”

  “Not really. I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

  He knew that feeling only too well. “Want to talk about it?”

  She shifted her head slightly, as though the question made her uneasy. Just when he thought she wasn’t going to answer, she spoke.

  “My sister apologized to me tonight.”

  He listened in silence as she poured it out—her sister’s confession, her mother’s unfulfilled ambitions, the endless pressure and lonely negligence of her childhood. He dropped a kiss onto her head when she told him about running away with her boyfriend, Johnny, at sixteen, and the scraping-by existence they’d lived together on the streets.

  It was a life he was only too familiar with, for other reasons. He’d spent more than his fair share of nights in shelters with his mother when he was a teen, and he’d known dozens of desperate junkies over the years. He had a fair idea the things she’d faced, the dangers she’d survived.

  He felt himself getting angry when she described her disgraced return to the fold, her parents’ relief and then angry laying of blame and guilt.

  “I decided a long time ago that they simply didn’t understand me and I didn’t understand them. When I was a kid, my favorite fantasy was to pretend that I was adopted, because it explained so well why I didn’t fit with their idea of who I should be, and why they didn’t fit with my idea of who they should be,” she said. “Hearing my sister say out loud that she is the favorite, something that I’ve always tried to convince myself wasn’t true, and, when I failed, chastised myself for being a whiny-little-bitch, poor-me loser...I can’t explain how it made me feel. Validated is the best word I can come up with. As though all the feelings and moments and memories of not quite measuring up weren’t figments of my imagination. That it wasn’t about me having a jaundiced view or being jealous of perfect Leah or sulky because I was the eldest and she was the baby. It really happened. It was real.

  “Now I feel kind of liberated, but I also have this spot in my chest—” she tapped it with her fingers “—that aches for that sad, messed-up little kid who could never do anything right.”

  He ached, too. And he didn’t know what to say to her to take away her pain. That he’d like to burn her parents to the ground was a given, but it wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t change the past, and it wouldn’t heal her. It seemed to him that she’d done a pretty amazing job of doing that for herself.

  “I don’t want to blow smoke up the skirt you’re not wearing,” he said when she’d fallen silent, “but I hope it’s occurred to you that it takes a will of iron to rise above the kind of shit you’re talking about. To get to where you are, all on your own. Not because of your parent
s, but despite them. Do you have any idea how exceptional that makes you, Audrey Mathews? How gutsy and brave and determined?”

  “Don’t. You’ll make me cry again.”

  “Then cry. I’ve got you.”

  She did then, a little, and he rubbed circles on her back and passed her tissues and listened some more as she tried to make sense of the thoughts and feelings churning around inside her.

  She fell silent after a while, and they sat with their own thoughts.

  “You’re a really good listener,” she said.

  “It’s an art form.”

  She propped herself up on her elbow so she could see his face. “You’re joking, but it is. You didn’t try to fix anything, you simply let me bleat to my heart’s content.”

  “Can’t fix a lot of what makes the world suck.” He shrugged. “Being able to have a good bleat about it seems like the bare minimum in my book.”

  “I like your book, Zachary Black.”

  “Excellent. I have another chapter for you to get familiar with. Roll onto your stomach.”

  “Is this about to get perverse?”

  “Only if you want it to.”

  He started rubbing her shoulders and neck and she gave a low groan.

  “Sweet Lord, you have good hands.”

  He set himself to massaging the tension out of her body, working his way down her back to her sacrum and glutes before finally arriving at her feet. He’d forgotten about their conversation at Al’s regarding her foot fetish, but she almost levitated when he started digging his thumbs into the ball of her foot.

  “Oh, God. Don’t ever stop doing that,” she groaned into the pillow.

  Eventually she fell silent, and he knew she was drifting toward sleep. He pulled the covers up to her shoulders and stretched out alongside her.