With You: With you, I am who I want to be.

by Jensen Kristyne

  Excuse me?

  I must have heard him wrong.

  "Theo, please," I beg him, trying to tread softly as I make my way over to the sink. I reach out to touch his arm.

  "Fuck, I said drop it!" He flinches away from me.

  I drop my hand. "Fine."

  He hits the water off.

  I turn around and begin walking toward the stairs. "I’d better go. I forgot it’s Monday; I've got class in an hour."

  "Brielle, wait!" I hear him call after me.

  Like an idiot, I pause, hoping that he'll offer to tell me the truth of what’s bothering him if I stay. Instead, I get, "I'm sorry. Just. . . ugh . . . just drive safe, okay?"

  I nod my head and walk out of the room. Is this how being with Theo is? A slave to his mood swings? I quickly change and grab the rest of my things before I head downstairs. I see Theo waiting for me by the door.

  "I. . . um . . . I called Hector to drive you since you don't have a car here."

  I nod my head and step around him. I wish it were him giving me the ride. At least then I might be able to coax whatever the hell is wrong out of him. I grab the door handle before Theo reaches out and stops me.

  "I wish I could tell you, and, eventually, I will. I just need to sort it all out first."

  I take in a deep breath. "What could be so horrible that you can't tell me now?" I shake my head. My voice is even and steady as I stare straight into his eyes.

  He blinks away. "I'll text you."

  "You know, the last time you said that to me, I didn’t see you for five years." I let out a breath. I press the handle down and open the door. Hector and the car are waiting just outside for me. I step outside. “Whatever it is, it looks to me like you’ve already made up your mind about it.”

  "Hey! This isn't easy for me, Brielle."

  I keep walking because I know that if I stop, I might break down.

  "Do what you want, Theo. But if you're planning on leaving again, at least have the decency to say goodbye this time."

  I reach the car as Hector opens the door. I take my seat and buckle myself in, turning at the last second to say, "Just don't expect me to be waiting around the next time you decide to come back."

  Two days have gone by, and I still haven’t heard a word from Theo. I’d like to say that I’m surprised, but I should have expected it. He's always been this way with the girls he messes around with. I just didn't think he would ever do it to me.

  "Hey, girl!" Becks's voice explodes over the speakers of my tiny car. I reach up and turn her down. I should have waited until I was on campus. Becks isn't someone I normally trust to put on speaker, but I’m desperate to talk to her about what’s been going on. The last few nights she’s stayed at Wes’s.

  "Hey." I sigh and sag against my steering wheel. My head rolls along its leather lining as I wait for the stoplight to turn green.

  "Uh oh. What happened?" She immediately goes on the defense. "Did Theo—"

  "No. It's nothing, really. Just—"

  "Oh. My. God. Shut up!" I cover my ears and crack the windows. Her voice is not ideal for small spaces. "You didn't, you slut!"

  Oh, good Lord. Here we go. I turn to my side and get a vicious scowl from a soccer mom in a minivan. I mouth a “sorry” to her and roll up the windows. Never in my life have I needed a light to turn green more than I do right now.

  "Becks, please—"

  "No, bitch! Don't you dare rob me of this moment. Spill."

  "Spill?"

  "Oh, don't play dumb." I can mentally see her waving me off just by the rise in her tone. "I’m so proud that I could scream. My little Bree finally lost her v-card."

  Oh God. "Becks."

  “He better have made it special too.”

  “Special?”

  "Yes, Brielle! Losing your virginity is a big deal. How was it? Is he big? Tell me he rocked your little virgin socks off."

  "Becks, you’re on speaker. And I can’t tell you that."

  "I swear, Brielle, there is such a thing as being too innocent, you know?" I hear her voice drop. "I get that you’re shy with this stuff, but you can’t call me, drop the big news, and then rob me of the details. I deserve to know."

  "We didn’t have sex!"

  “Oh,” she says and groans over the phone. “Well at least, tell me you did something other than waste the night alone, sitting around with him. That man is sex on a stick.”

  "Well, he might of . . . I mean, there was a moment when he . . ." I'm hesitant to say the words aloud, not because I’m embarrassed but because it makes what I feel for him all the more real. And if there won’t be anything between Theo and me, then I can’t allow myself to go there again. "It’s complicated."

  There's a moment of silence. "God, you're so vanilla." Her tone picks up again.

  "Thanks." I laugh unable to hide my smile.

  Another short pause.

  "Oh shit." Her voice drops another level. "Luca is going to be pissed."

  Luca? My mind stumbles to hold on to the name. The image of his face the last time we were together instantly comes to mind. He hasn’t been to our class the past two days, so I’ve completely forgotten about the fight we had. I gently tap my head against the steering wheel as the light turns green.

  "Luca and I are friends, Becks," I decide to say, my mind working up an excuse to justify what I did. "Plus, what he said was pretty out of line."

  "True, but he doesn't see it that way. He loves you."

  I roll my eyes and remember how upset he was back in the parking lot. I’d never seen him raise his voice like that. And his going after Becks was a whole new side of him that I didn’t like. I know I have to talk to him, and soon, but I’m afraid of what he might say. "Oh God! You’re right."

  "He'll get over it, Bree. You can't blame yourself for succumbing to a moment of weakness. Theo is fucking hot; it's normal."

  I flip on my blinker after I pass Spring creek Boulevard, and turn onto College Drive. I wait another minute for a car to pass before I pull into the campus parking lot. "It wasn't just a moment of weakness, Becks," I say as I pull into a parking spot. My fingers twist the key as I hurry to collect my books. "I. . . ugh . . . I’m pretty sure I still love him."

  chapter twenty-seven

  BRIELLE

  I clutch the phone to my ear and step out of the car, waiting for Becks to say something. Anything. I can't stand the silence anymore. "Becks? Did you hear me?"

  "Oh, I heard you. I'm just waiting for you to admit that this is some kind of sick joke."

  I take a second and sweep my eyes around the parking lot. "Look, I know what you're going to say."

  "That you're being ridiculous, letting your new fuck-buddy mess with your brain?"

  I knit my brows at her word choice and crinkle my nose. "Well, okay, I guess I didn't know what you were going to say," I continue, trying not to let her opinion affect me too much. "But it's not like that; I'm serious. It’s like I never stopped loving—"

  "Bullshit," Becks snaps. Her annoyance and disapproval ring loud and clear. I turn the corner of the corridor after I push my way inside, and hover along the side, mouth slack as I wait for her to continue. "Brielle, we've been here before." She pauses before saying, "Please correct me if I'm wrong. I mean, has he even reached out to you since you left, what, two days ago?"

  "No."

  Pause.

  "For fuck's sake, Brielle," she whines after a minute. "Congratulations! You're his new Katrina."

  "No. Theo wouldn't do that." I feel myself spinning out of control with every word she says. Is she right? Did Theo use me?

  "Maybe not the old Theo, but what do you really know about him now?" she continues. Her voice is heavy as if she knows something but is choosing not to tell me.

  I think back to Monday morning and to how fast everything went to hell after his father arrived. I wish he would have trusted me enough to tell me what was going on. I wish he would stop treating me like the child he feels he has to protect
. God, if Becks is right, then I must look so pathetic to him. I didn't even put up a fight.

  Every time I let myself believe that we're finally at a good place, or at least on the same page, he does something like this. I should have read the signs.

  "Becks, if you're trying to tell me something, then just say it."

  The line goes silent to the point where I'm wondering if she's even still on the phone. I glance at the clock and see that I’m about to be late for class. The tiny butterflies stirring in my stomach begin to make me sick, just thinking about it. "Becks?"

  "Oh fine. Fine! But if I tell you, then you can't tell anyone."

  I pause, letting her words sink in as I try to wrap my head around what the hell she could possibly have to say. I nod before I remember that she isn't here to see it. "Okay, I won't. Just tell me."

  "So it's nothing too bad. Well, I mean it is, but—"

  "Becks!"

  "Sorry." She catches herself. "I just don't know an easy way to say this."

  I suck in a deep breath and hold it as the suspense slowly begins chipping away at my heart.

  "Wes told me that Theo’s caught up in some pretty fucked-up shit. It started around the time he began working for his dad, and apparently, he’s been forced to do some pretty dark things."

  "What? What does that even mean?"

  "Exactly. I don't really know. Wes was pretty high when he told me, but he seemed genuinely spooked. That was all I could get out of him though, before it all turned into purple elephants and all-seeing turtles. I don't know. It got weird. Whatever it is, people fear him for it. They call him The Grim Reaper."

  The Grim Reaper? I silently repeat to myself. Whatever the name means, it doesn’t just sound bad, it also sounds illegal. Has Theo killed people?

  "This is all just a lot to take in at once." I shrug my shoulders, my resolve wearing thin. "I. . . ugh. . . I better let you go. I can't be late for class."

  "Yeah, okay. I'll see you tonight, Brielle."

  "See you."

  I hang up the phone and hurry down the hall. My mind refuses to acknowledge or accept anything until I speak with Theo—whenever that may be. I need answers, but I want to hear them from him. With a name like the Grim Reaper, I can only think the worst. His father is a monster, and I know that Theo carried a lot of guilt after Mason passed. But I can't imagine that he would fall so far as to possibly hurt others. He's still Theo. At least, I don't think he would. . .

  My class ends a few minutes early. Now all I want to do is head home and try to wrap my head around the idea of Theo being his father’s lap dog. I push the exit door open and quickly spot my car, my little Chevy Sonic—turbo, I might add. I pick up my pace. “Home is only a short fifteen minutes away,” I tell myself, feeling my shoulders already starting to relax. But my brain is on overdrive.

  I squint against the fading sun when I see an all-black motorcycle pull into the spot next to mine. The rider is dressed in a simple white T-shirt and jeans. I let my eyes skim the length of him when I notice his tires are blatantly over the line.

  Crap. Getting into my car is now going to be extremely difficult with all of my books. What the hell is this guy doing? He's just sitting there, watching me. I pause halfway and sweep my eyes around the empty parking lot. Should I head back inside? Call Theo? Luca?

  Another minute passes with the two of us doing nothing but eyeing the other from afar. Screw it, I decide and continue making my way to my car. Maybe I'll swing my door open and bump his bike. That would teach him to park over the line. Or maybe I could just ask him to scoot over? My subconscious rears to life as usual, and I roll my eyes.

  I'm maybe a hundred feet away, when the rider swings his leg over the side of his bike and pulls his helmet off. What the . . . Theo?

  "You have a motorcycle?"

  He pushes his hand through his disheveled waves and sets his helmet down to hang from his handlebar. "What? I told you I would get one."

  "Yeah, but, that was years ago." I want to laugh. Memories of Mason and him playing Grand Theft Auto and the two of them arguing about starting a biker gang, like The Sons of Anarchy, invade my mind. I mentally toss my eyes at the idea. It sounded as stupid then as it does now. "When did you buy it?"

  "About a year after I left.”

  He remains silent as his eyes follow the length of my body, before he lifts them to meet mine. His steely gaze penetrates my thoughts.

  Oh, no you don't.

  I smile when I know what he must be thinking. Wait. Did he come here to say goodbye?

  As if reading my mind, he takes a step toward me. His hand reaches out, but I swat it away. "Brielle, just listen—"

  "Save it." I close my eyes. I can't believe he’s doing this again. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

  "What? No." He drops his hand. "I'm not leaving; I just came here to talk."

  "Talk?" I tilt my head up at him. My eyes search his features for any trace that he’s lying. But there is none. "Okay, then talk. What are we doing here?" I finally ask the question I've been wondering since before everything happened.

  Theo's smile drops, but he doesn't miss a beat. Instead, he leans forward to snatch my wrist, pulling me to him as he wraps his arms tightly around my waist. "Come with me," he says. His voice is barely above a whisper. "I want to show you something."

  My eyes flint down at the already scabbed wound lining his bicep. I shake my head. "I can't. I'm sorry." I shrug out of his arms. My body moves to the passenger side of my car. My feet take two steps at a time. I open the door, but Theo is right behind me.

  "What do you mean you can't, Brielle?"

  "I mean," I begin, watching Theo shut my door after I barely manage to throw my books into the seat. His tall, muscular frame pins me to the door so that I can't walk away from him. I turn my head toward the emptying parking lot. "I can't go with you. I have to get home."

  "Is this because I wouldn't tell you about my arm?"

  "No." I press my lips into a thin line. "Well, sort of. But it's also about some other things."

  "What other things?"

  "Theo . . ." I reach up to gently push him away. I need the distance so that I can think, but it’s like pressing against the stone wall at the Drop-Off. It’s no use; he doesn’t move.

  "What other things, Brielle?"

  "Just . . . things, Theo. About you, your past. And your father and the work you do for him. I mean, what happened when you left here? Who are you? Are you a criminal, or something? Where did you go?"

  I half expected him to walk away, but he is unnervingly calm. He opens his mouth, then shuts it. His eyes shift back and forth between my own, searching for something. "If I promise to answer you, will you come with me?"

  I stare up into those hazel eyes and feel my pulse begin to race. I nod. Crap, I am pathetic. Why can I never say no to him?

  Theo takes my hand and leads me over to his bike. My mind is reeling with all the reasons I should object, but I'm choosing to ignore them. The truth is, I secretly love the idea of Theo having a bike. Of course I don't love the risks that come along with it. But in a way, it makes sense. It’s wild like him. Rough, complex, and dangerous.

  Dangerous?

  Where the hell did that come from?

  I watch Theo swing his leg around the side of the bike and take a seat. "You coming, babe?"

  I offer him a small smile and climb on behind him. He turns the key, and the motor roars to life, causing the entire bike to vibrate beneath me. “Don’t get too excited." He laughs, watching my face through the side mirror. “I might just get jealous.”

  My arms tighten around his waist. "Just go before I change my mind."

  chapter twenty-eight

  BRIELLE

  I watch Theo stumble with a set of keys as I hop around beside his bike, trying to keep warm. The cool, matte, black finish glints under the early moon's light.

  When did it get so cold?

  I shudder, suddenly annoyed with myself for a number of rea
sons. The first being that I'm usually a lot better prepared than this. I should have known better than to wear a T-shirt and shorts in October, when the nights can get cold.

  "Come on, you'll be warm inside," Theo says the second the door clicks open.

  I quickly hurry in after he pushes the door open wider for me to go on ahead of him. The area inside is pitch-black.

  "Theo," I call out when the door slams shut.

  "Shit. Sorry. One second!" He chuckles from a distance. The playful tone to his voice, makes me want to smile until I hear him slam into something hard. "Fuck."

  "You okay?" I bite back a laugh, the lights flickering on the moment I round a small hall.

  What the hell?

  I squint my eyes.

  My hand rises to cover the top of my face as I'm blinded by the stark-white walls etched with thinly painted navy-and-red stripes. Rows of baseball bats, hats, and miscellaneous Texas Rangers memorabilia line the outer walls. I drop my hand. From the outside, the place looks abandoned. Bars on the windows and smashed out security lights. Where are we?

  "So, this is what you wanted to show me?" I sweep my eyes around the large space, picking apart tiny details I use as clues, while trying to understand why of all places Theo chose to bring me here.

  From the corner of my eye, I watch Theo immediately walk behind a counter that’s set in the center of the room. His eyes scanning the variety of bat racks hanging up behind a glass case, where a wide assortment of baseball cards sit completely untouched. I skim my finger atop the closest table and find, like everything else here, it's heavily coated in a thick layer of dust.

  "How are you at hitting?" he asks.

  My head whips around to face him. “What?”

  "Hitting? How are you at swinging a, ugh, screw it. Truth?”

  I nod, utterly confused why, of all places, he brought me here.

  “The truth is, I hate the way things went down last weekend. It was supposed to be a time spent remembering Mason, and instead, I let my jealousy get the best of me."

  I watch him grab a pair of helmets and two bats from the racks. His eyes search underneath of the counter. "Ah." He sighs in relief, bending down to grab a bucket full of gold coins. Each one, only slightly bigger than a quarter. He sets it down on the counter. His hazel eyes lock with mine as he leans over the top, and motions for me to go to him.