But then there was David. The guy would ultimately freak the fuck out when he learned the truth, especially since he was still so messed up as it was. All she could hope for in the end was a little acceptance on his behalf. She’d deal with the rest as it went.
Chapter Eight
“I’m sorry David. You’ll just have to call back in a few days. Abigail is actually in California, visiting your sister.” Dammit. Fucking hell! She’d gone and left after he’d begged her not to? Christ she was stubborn.
He shook his head, wanting to throw something—or possibly even cry. And he was not a crying little pussy either. It’s not that he could have stopped her from going. He had zero pull over that girl. Abigail Zane was the freest–ass spirit he’d ever met. She was also a big girl, and when you told her not to do something, she always did just the opposite, and she did it hard and she did it fast. The simple fact though that she was on her way to California to hang with guys like Mason Daniel, had his gut clenching in jealous, angry knots.
“Oh, okay,” he responded, leaning back in his chair as he squeezed his lids shut.
“Yeah, she left at four this morning. Didn’t even take her cell phone with her either, otherwise I’d tell you to call that. I’m sorry, son.”
David blinked his tired eyes open, only to look down at the palms of his hands a second later. Nail marks sat in perfect moon–shaped crescent marks as he opened and shut his fingers. “No problem, Mr. Zane, thanks for letting me know.”
Goodbyes were said, and without even realizing what he was doing, David found his hand hovering over the letters and the mouse of his laptop. He narrowed his eyes as the screen lit up, and almost crapped himself when he clicked on the airline website. Seriously…what the hell was he doing? He wasn’t in any shape to go to California, and Abigail was not his girlfriend. Nor would she ever be his girlfriend. But somehow or another, his fingers clicked on reserve and in one, loud beat of his heart, his plane ticket to Santa Cruz for tomorrow, was booked.
He was one messed up son of a bitch…
He groaned, leaning back into his chair again, dragging his fist down the side of his face. Now he had to figure out how he was going to tell his parents. Either his mother was going to kill him, or cry big bucket loads of angry tears. Or maybe even do both. But did he really even care what she thought? Did he value her or his father’s opinion anymore? No, not really. He was just a guy who was simply obsessed with a girl he could never have. A girl he was so in love with that he didn’t have a single bit of control over what he did, or didn’t do any more when it came to her. Hell, Abigail had always ruled his life in a way that he didn’t understand, and there was no way he’d be able to change that.
But really, who in the mother of fucktards was he kidding in this current screwed up situation? He didn’t have a plan as to what he would do two days from now, let alone two years or even two months from now! Why was he chasing after her? He didn’t deserve her! She was better off without him. He’d only drag her down with his ongoing issues. But unfortunately he did know one thing: He had to go to her. If anything just to make sure she was safe and okay. And yeah, he could have just called his sister. That made a hell of a lot more sense, but he also knew that it would never be the same as physically seeing her. And ever since their night together, he’d been her stalker of sorts. She wasn’t his, but he wanted her to be safe because he loved the fucking hell out of her.
Besides, it’d be good to see Harley again too. Yeah, he’d keep telling himself that. It’d been two months since his two minute younger sister had been home, and he missed the hell out of her. She was his twin—his best friend—the one girl who got him, even if she technically didn’t.
So he put on his metaphorical big boy pants, and sucked in a breath, taking his mistakes and regrets in through his nose and out of his mouth right along with the air. Slowly, he made his way down the hallway to find his parents. The TV was on, and their eyes were fully focused on the news, like he figured they would be at six o’clock at night. They were creatures of routine and never once had they wavered from their little schedule. And there really wouldn’t be a better time to break his news than in that moment.
“Hey Mom, Dad, can we talk?” He cleared his throat, leaning against the doorframe. Immediately their eyes whipped his direction. Surprise registered on his mom’s face because nights were his time to rot away in his room, alone. But his dad’s face was stoic as ever.
He swallowed the anxious lump building in his gut, as the sweat welled in his palms. His mind burrowed through all the different ideas ransacking his brain, all the different ways to build up to the inevitable truth he was about to spill. Shit though, this was going to be harder than he thought…
“Sure sweetie, what’s up?”
He ran a hand through his hair, watching as his mom slowly leaned forward against her knees. She clicked the remote off, and the background noise of the TV went silent. All he could hear now was the furious pounding of his heart in his head. He had his mother’s full attention, but his grizzly bear of a dad just looked downright pissed at the disturbance.
Double shit.
“What did you need, David?” His father sighed, lifting his paper up in front of his face. David scooted in closer, cracking his neck from side to side as he moved to sit on the end table.
“Actually, I’ve got some news,” his mom’s eyes narrowed, his dad sighed. His stomach danced a ballet of fear, taking his dinner for a ride along with it. Shit, where’d his balls go?
“I, uh, I’m leaving in the morning to go see Harley. I’ve already booked a flight so you can’t change my mind. And I’m gonna be fine, so don’t try to talk me out of it either.” He held a hand out in front of him as his jaw clenched tight. Okay, one bad detail down, time to face the bad background music next.
His mom cleared her throat, but didn’t respond right away. Okay, so that was either a really bad thing, or a really good one. He couldn’t be sure. But like he’d said, he didn’t care what they thought about his impromptu trip, he was nineteen years old! He had a savings account, he was self–sufficient. He was definitely a big–ass boy. There was no way they were going to change his mind. No way in hell.
“What in the hell are you thinking, David? You can’t just book a flight like that without asking for permission first.” He lifted his head, watching as his mother stood and began to pace the floor. Crap, pacing was never a good sign.
“Umm, I think I can, Mom. I’m nineteen. I used my own credit card. I’ve got money saved. Oh, and I know what the hell I’m doing, so don’t even go there!”
“Don’t talk to your mother like that young man,” his dad stood, eyes looking murderous, anger falling from his burly body in thick waves. The guy was a monster in the hugest sense, and the only thing that could physically stop David from leaving.
But David was strong; he could hold his own. He was going whether they agreed to it or not. “I’m not sorry, and I’m really getting tired of being treated like an invalid,” he motioned down to his leg for emphasis, “I am more than physically capable of doing this,” minus the no pills part, the headaches, the seizures, and the fact that my fake leg is all jacked up still, but hey, that’s my issue, not theirs. I’ll deal with it.
The room thickened with both anguish and tears, mostly from his mother. Dammit! If only they’d see things his way! He was tired of being their little pet. He didn’t have a leash and he didn’t piss outside in the grass. He was a guy who just wanted to be let out of the pound without any real criticism or risk of being taken over by the guilt and anger of everyone who didn’t agree with his choices. Sure, he knew they were probably just worried and all, but he also didn’t see them chasing Harley’s ass home either.
“Look, I’m going, and you can’t stop me. I didn’t want this to get ugly, but if I have to go without your agreement, then that’s what I’ll do. Besides,” he knifed a hand through his curls, pulling at them with every angry beat inside of his chest, “it’s n
ot like I’m going to be gone for forever. Its two days, that’s all,” he softened his tone, hating the big tears falling down his mother’s cheeks. He loved the hell out of these two, but he loved Abigail just as much, therefore he had to do this.
“Is this about Abigail? Is there something going on with you two finally? Harley told me she was coming down this weekend so it kind of seems like a planned coincidence, David.” He groaned. Even through her tears the woman was wicked smart.
But did he want her to know that was exactly the reason? No, he didn’t want to give them false hope. They’d been on his ass about him and Abigail since the days she’d sat by his bedside in that hospital three years ago after his accident.
“No Mom, I just…” he stuttered, looking down at the carpet. Shit, what would he say? What would his mega lie of all mega lies be this time? He blinked as his face heated to a red that he couldn’t hide if he tried. His eyes traveled between his mother’s damp cheeks and his father’s clenched jaw. “I just…want to see my sister, all right? I miss her so damn much that I can’t take it any longer,” he sighed pulling at the back of his hair this time. It wasn’t a lie at least, because his sister’s absence had seriously messed with his mind whether he wanted to admit it or not.
His father shook his head and sat back down, scratching at his beard that grew longer every day. “You need a major attitude adjustment, David,” he growled, “but I’m not going to stop you.”
He stared down at his dad, eyes narrowed, but not really surprised at his sudden relent. The man had wanted him gone anyways, and it was more than obvious that his son’s disabled body had been a thorn in his side since day one.
His mother blew out a shaky breath, drawing his attention towards her face. “Are you sure you’re ready for something like this? I mean you’ve never actually flown on a plane before, let alone traveled on one by yourself.”
David laughed, “Mom, seriously? I think I can handle it.”
She sniffled, running a hand under her eyes. His stomach muscles tightened in unease as he watched her. He was always screwing with everyone’s emotions. He just couldn’t help it, especially since he could barely get a handle on his own.
David stood, wincing as he stretched out his prosthetic leg. Luckily nobody noticed his cringing face, otherwise they’d probably be locking his ass in a room, or taking him straight to a hospital instead. He’d stopped with the meds for the headaches because, for one, they were doing all sorts of jacked up things to his dick. But he didn’t realize that the meds also had helped with any lingering leg pain. He was screwed in so many ways now and apparently he was in a forever stage of damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.
“David, I don’t like the idea, but if your father agrees and thinks you can handle it, then I guess I can’t say much to stop you from going.” His mother sighed, leaning back into the cushions as she shut her eyes.
They never really had a say in the situation in the first place. Like he’d said, he would go whether they approved or not. But admittedly, it made him feel slightly better knowing they were accepting his decision. He nodded, turning to leave, biting on his tongue as the pain chewed him with its poisonous, invisible teeth.
“Wait! Do you need to call your sister?” his mother’s voice stopped him just short of walking through the threshold. He shut his eyes again just as the pain began rocketing up and down his thigh with a vengeance. He needed to lay his ass down and sleep. Or he just needed to break down and take the pills he’d been trying to avoid. What he didn’t need to do though was to talk anymore.
“No, I’ll call Mason and tell him,” yeah right… “I want Harley to be surprised,” and unable to stop me. He swallowed the lie and it scratched the hell out of his throat. She needed to just stop talking, or he needed to just stop listening.
“Okay,” she whispered silently to his backside, “but we are going to take you to the airport in the morning, that way we can make sure you get settled on the plane okay.”
He nodded, but didn’t answer in any other way as he shuffled from the room. He’d managed to overcome one hurdle by telling his parents, but now he just had to figure out how the hell he was going to make it through the next forty–eight–hour marathon without screwing up his life permanently.
Chapter Nine
He was alive and he was in one piece. The best part about it was the fact that he’d finally flown in an airplane. And he’d done it all alone. He didn’t freak the hell out like he feared he would have either. Life was finally…decent.
He’d flown into San José and taken a shuttle the forty–five minutes just to get to Santa Cruz. When he had finally found himself in front of his sister’s apartment, the clock on the dash of the van had blinked eight–thirty. Needless to say he was worn out, and hurting. But the emotion that raged at his insides more than anything else was need—a desperate, uncontrollable, almost disgusting urge was more like it. An urge to see Abigail, to make sure she was good, safe. Even though he already knew that she was.
Jesus…he was obsessed and out of control and idiotic. But he was also a little bit desperate too.
He was pretty sure he’d gotten the right apartment number and all, but still, nobody answered after he’d pounded on the wood for the fifteenth time. Nobody knew he was coming, and he was kind of starting to regret the whole surprise element of this trip—especially since he had no idea what he was going to get into when Abigail realized why he’d come in the first place. But his plan was to say that he’d had this getaway booked for a while now, and that all he wanted to do was surprise his sister. Unfortunately, he also knew it was going to be a long–shot sort of lie as well, especially since he’d practically begged Abigail not to go in the first place. His only hope was that they would let it slide if they figured out his secret, accept his sudden appearance, and be happy with it. Then they could go from there.
The cup of coffee he held between his palms grew cold the longer he sat on the hard, cement steps. He sighed, setting it off to his left before stretching his arms above his head. The sky above was ominous looking as he tipped his head back to look up at it. Only the moon served as a light, while the stars stayed hidden. He shivered, hating that the darkness still ate away at him even after all this time. The darkness only reminded him of that night…the night he almost lost it all. He shook his head and leaned his body forward a little bit more, shaking off his memories and morbid thoughts. There was no point rehashing that night. He was alive. Nothing else mattered.
He tilted his head from side to side as he hunted for the impending signs of a car, or even a few people walking his way. But it was now past eleven, and there wasn’t an engine, or a voice in the vicinity around him. The quietness of this part of the city struck him as odd. This was Santa Cruz, California, where in the hell were all the people? Where was the traffic, the abundance of tourists? He shook his head and shut his eyes, marveling in the weird familiarity of the whole scene. He was pretty sure this little bit of silence was the only thing this city had in common with Hillsdale, Nebraska.
Worn out, with his thigh aching beyond belief, he scooted backwards until he was level with the hardness of the brick wall behind him. It was apparently time to settle in for the long haul, because he had no idea when they’d get home. He inhaled through his nose, and the salty ocean scent curled through his senses. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was pretty damn giddy to see the beach for the first time in his life. His sister had titled the ocean as something close to ‘perfection’. He could almost picture the sights, sounds, and waves as she’d described them to him, in no uncertain detail, over the phone. She had said he’d never fully enjoy life until he could sink his feet into the cool, damp sand. And now all he wanted to do was experience that one simple thing…but with Abigail at his side.
And preferably in her famous red bikini…
He shook his head, digging his hand into his cargo shorts pockets as thoughts of Abigail soared through his mind. The way her skin heated
against his fingers the night he’d foolishly screwed up the one good thing left in his life. The way her chest—her perfect curves—had pressed against the front of his shirt. The way she’d kissed his chin, and then his neck. The way she’d taken complete control of the situation, leaving him helpless to the girl he swore he wouldn’t get helpless with. He groaned, knocking his head back lightly against the brick wall in a slow, repetitive pattern. What he really needed to do was to grow a pair, and then get the hell over this obsession with her. It’d never happen again; the two of them being together, that is. Hell, it should’ve never happened in the first place. He’d been over this, time and time again. But still, all thoughts of her were addictive and he couldn’t fight them no matter how hard he tried.
He pinched the insides of his pockets, just as a few giggles erupted in the air. He sat up straighter, narrowing his eyes as he studied the darkness off to his right. And followed by the sound of giggles, was the sound of someone singing—a someone that sounded exactly like a female cat…in heat. He grinned and shook his head. Abigail. There would never be anyone who sounded as bad as she did.
He sat up quickly, only to slowly push his way to a standing position. His stump throbbed even more, but he could deal with it, for now. Dark shadows soon turned into dark shadowed figures, four dark shadowed figures as a matter of fact. They were making their way towards the apartment’s front steps at a leisurely pace. He perched up on the tips of his shoes, one crutch braced under his side, before stepping forward completely. And there in the shadow of the one lone street light was the face of the girl he was desperate to see again, the face that fell nothing short of beautiful, like that of an earth–borne cherub.
A Long Time Coming Page 7