Come to Me Softly

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Come to Me Softly Page 34

by A. L. Jackson


  “Sure does.” Christopher crossed his arms over his chest, bristling with contention. “Does he have a little sister to keep your dick warm at night, too?”

  Bitterness thickened my tongue. My chest squeezed. “Fuck you. I won’t ever step out on Aly.”

  The thought of someone other than Aly touching me made me physically ill, and Christopher suggesting it just pissed me right the fuck off.

  Green eyes narrowed on me. “You aren’t ever going to step out on my sister? And how is this any different? Leaving your pregnant girlfriend, the one you’re supposed to marry, alone? Are you really going to stand there and call that devotion?”

  “What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Maybe what Aly asked you to. Get some fucking help, man. Talk to someone.”

  I backed away. No way was I going there with him.

  Frustrated, he threw he hands out to his sides. “So what? That’s it? You’re just going to walk away?”

  My heart skidded at the notion. Every last cell in me screamed no. Of course it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. There was no letting Aly go.

  Christopher’s demeanor shifted when he saw the panic in mine, and he dropped his voice. “Damn it, Jared, look at you. You’re just as messed up as my sister.” He gulped over a hard swallow, asked on a heavy exhale, “Do you really think this is what your mom wants?”

  With the mention of my mom, my insides curled, turning me inside out. Exposed and raw. I struggled for a breath.

  “You think she’d really want Aly alone and scared and missing you? That she’d want her grandchild not to know its dad? Do you really think you owe her that? That holding all that guilt inside is somehow going to make it up to her?”

  He dropped his gaze to the ground. When he lifted it, all the sympathy was gone. “You need to grow some balls, man. Own up to your shit. For a guy who will take down the first asshole who gets in his face, you are nothing but a pussy. Making excuses with every turn you take.” He flung his arms out. “Look around you. My family, Jared…” He shook his head. “All of us… we love you. Care about you. Stop acting like you don’t deserve that and fucking face the shit you don’t want to. Quit being a coward… because all this bullshit about not being good enough?” He began to back away. His eyes narrowed with disappointment. “It’s just that. Bullshit.”

  Then he turned and walked away.

  Frozen, I stood there watching him go.

  Jumping into his truck, he turned the ignition and the engine roared. He gunned it, dirt spewing as he flipped his truck around in the middle of the road and left the way he’d come.

  I jerked my attention around to my crew who stood there gaping.

  “What the hell are you all looking at? Get back to work,” I yelled, hoofing it across the yard and toward the office trailer because there was no way I could stand out here for a second longer, couldn’t bear this fucked-up world for a minute more.

  I hated Christopher for everything he’d said.

  Because I knew every word of it was true.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Jared

  Noon held the sky captive, the sun sitting high in the center of the endless expanse of blue.

  My pulse thundered just as loud as my bike, and I gripped the handlebars, my legs stretched out to prop up the rumbling mass of metal.

  What the fuck was I doing?

  Torturing myself this way?

  But after Christopher left this morning, coming here felt like the only thing I could do.

  I blinked to clear the haze. From across the narrow street, I forced myself to watch what I’d thrown away. The little house was quiet. But I knew she was there. I could almost feel her inside. Missing me. Swimming through the void that had taken over our lives.

  How many times had I promised her I was done with all the hurting shit?

  Movement fluttered at the window where rays of sunlight glinted and glared, blinding as they shined down against the glass. Still, I saw her, recognized that trusting face.

  My heart clenched, just as tightly as my jaw.

  God, I wanted her, to run to her and hold her and tell her everything was gonna be okay.

  To take away the hurt I felt crying out from her now.

  But I understood the separation.

  The walls I’d erected.

  The bridge I’d burned.

  Aly pressed her palm to the window, her fingers splayed wide, calling for me, like she could reach through those barriers and pull me from the rubble.

  Pain clawed up my spine and settled at the base of my neck. My head throbbed.

  I didn’t know if there was any way to reconstruct it, to rebuild this fucking unbearable mess I’d brought down at our feet. Didn’t know if I could fix this.

  If there was, there was only one way.

  That unspent emotion grew at the base of my throat. Pulsating. Pressing out.

  Watching the curtain drop closed, I sucked in a ragged breath.

  For her, I would try.

  How many times had I told her she made me better?

  It was about damned time I proved it.

  Cranking the throttle, I spun the bike around in the street and hit the open road.

  Vibrations rocked through my body, and the roar of the engine overtook my senses, partnered with my spirit that thrashed and fought and warred, shouting out that I was a fool.

  Beneath me the road blurred.

  It took the rest of the world with it.

  And I knew I’d either find it, or lose it all forever.

  Bright city lights stretched on for what seemed forever. Each unbearable mile I put under me just ratcheted the foreboding higher and higher. Night closed in, this fucking ominous glow hanging too low from the bleeding sky. My muscles ached with fatigue from straddling this seat for the last six hours, though I felt completely strung out. Like I hadn’t slept for days and was coming down from the worst kind of high.

  Wasn’t all too far from the truth.

  Rapidly I blinked, gritting my teeth as I cut through the gridlocked traffic that overflowed with people fighting to make their way home.

  Guess that’s what I was doing, too. Fighting my way back to Aly. Even though the direction I was heading felt like a dead end. A trap. Still, that address was all I could see. Every part of me screamed to turn my ass around, tuck my bastard tail, and go back.

  But I had nothing to go back to.

  So I raced headlong, right into the eye of the storm.

  I cut through two lanes, taking the exit to the route I’d memorized.

  Here I was, throwing myself at the feet of a man who hated my guts. A man I’d fucking loved with all my heart growing up, a man I’d looked up to and respected. The man I’d prayed I’d one day grow up to make proud.

  And for what?

  I had no idea what I hoped to achieve, coming here.

  What difference would it make?

  It sure as hell wouldn’t bring my mother back.

  But truth was, no matter how far and for how long I’d run, I always knew it’d come to this. That one day I’d have to stand in front of the man I destroyed. Maybe this was just fate taking another perverse turn, teasing me with ecstasy, tempting me with the girl when the whole time it’d been a ploy to push me toward this brutal punishment.

  The question was, who would be punished tonight?

  Seeing him was going to hurt like a bitch.

  No doubt about it.

  But him seeing me? What would it to do him, coming face-to-face with me?

  Fear lashed and I pegged the throttle. I sped through intersections, diving deeper into the suburban city, my destination so unclear but set in stone. My head spun in this muddle of confusion and dread and the faintest flicker of hope.

  I was scared to see him. I could admit it. Like Christopher said, I was nothing but a coward. I didn’t want to witness what he’d become in the wake of my ruin.

  The sound of him sobbing echoed in my mind, those nights that had been the lonel
iest of my life, when I’d begged for death while he wept for hers.

  I’d broken his heart, trampled all the light from his life. Crushed it.

  I’d taken the good and left him with nothing.

  Shame gripped me by the throat.

  I knew I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t come where I wasn’t welcome.

  Still I surged forward. For Aly. For our life.

  I turned right into a quiet neighborhood. Mature trees lined the streets, and manicured lawns stretched up from the road to the modest houses set close together. Lights glowed from within them, and I could imagine the stirring of families coming together inside as evening settled outside their walls.

  I swallowed hard when I saw the sign proclaiming the street name that had haunted me for the last three days.

  What am I doing? I asked myself for what felt like the millionth time.

  And I could almost feel Aly’s hand press over my heart, like she was giving me silent encouragement. A soft buoy to my spirit.

  I was doing it for her.

  I was doing it for my family.

  My bike warbled low as I slowed. Inching forward, I approached the address.

  Terror welled in my chest, stretching me thin.

  But for Aly, I’d try. I’d fucking try. Because I couldn’t live without her. And God, the truth was, I didn’t want her to have to live without me.

  I pulled off to the right side of the road, across the street and one house down from my father’s.

  Bright lights blazed from within, pouring out from every window. Red tiles covered the pitched roof, and the shutters and trim were painted a dark green. Wood columns jutted out from the roof to cover the front door in a cozy porch that was lifted two steps from the rock pathway. Flower beds ran the span of the house, and shrubs rose up to flank the freshly painted matching green door. Like the rest of houses in the neighborhood, the lawn was cut short, full and lush, extending from the sidewalk bordering the street to the flower beds blooming below the windows.

  That rock lodged in my throat expanded, digging into my vocal cords, squeezing off my air.

  Confusion clouded my mind.

  What I expected coming here, I didn’t know.

  But this simple house definitely was not it.

  Torn up, I guess I’d imagined. Crumbling and decayed.

  Like our lives.

  But no.

  This house looked like a home.

  A twinge of envy jabbed me.

  I shook it off, nudged the throttle on my bike, and cut across the road to come to a stop right in front. I was shaking when I kicked the stand and stood. Tremors rolled through me, uncontrollable and harsh.

  I gripped my head. Fuck, I just had to do this.

  Sucking in a steeling breath, I stalked over the flagstone path, ready to face all the shit Aly’d been urging me into for months, the hatred and the shame. For her, I’d take it.

  I’d take it for both of them.

  On the porch, I stood in the hazy glow of the ornate hurricane lamp hanging on the wall and rang the doorbell, twitching while I waited.

  Footsteps echoed on the other side. I listened to the distinct sound of sliding metal as the latch was freed.

  The door opened a crack.

  For the flash of a second, I pinched my eyes shut, not ready to face what was waiting for me on the other side. Finally, I pried them open.

  A woman stood there, pretty but plain, probably in her midforties. Dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her light brown eyes widened with unsettled surprise when they landed on me. Wary, her gaze made an analyzing pass down my body, along my arms to my hands squeezed so fucking tight they were cutting off circulation.

  “Oh,” blew from her mouth in what sounded like fear.

  Agitation shifted my feet. I shook my head, blinked, began to back away. I felt like I was on the verge of losing my goddamned mind. I was pretty sure that fact was evident on my face. Pair that with the rest of me?

  Bet she was wishing she’d taken a peek in her peephole before she’d so hastily opened her door.

  In an effort to assuage her, I lifted my hands in surrender. “I’m sorry… I must have the wrong —” I started to say, edging away, before her mouth drew into a sharp O. Panic flashed across her expression.

  “Oh m-m-my God,” she stuttered. Her hand slammed down on the center of her chest like she’d just flatlined and she was trying to jump-start her heart.

  A slow dread settled over my consciousness. It only made me move faster.

  I was out of here.

  “Wait,” she demanded on a desperate exhale. “Please, don’t go.” She flung the door open wide. Keeping her eye pinned on me like she could tie me down, she frantically shouted, “Neil!”

  The name sliced through me with a keening awareness, and that dread pounding at my ribs dropped like a rock into the roiling pit of my stomach. “Neil!” the woman hollered again, flipping her head around to look down a short hall that led into the house. “Get out here!”

  But I’d already caught the bastard’s face over her shoulder.

  Frozen, he stood at the end of the hall. Shock dilated his dark blue eyes, and his chest heaved and he struggled for a breath. “Jared?” he managed, taking a step forward. Pain cut a river of lines across his face, and his mouth twisted in some kind of horrified confusion. “Jared?” he asked again, almost on a plea.

  I was speared.

  Gutted.

  Darkness rushed in.

  I couldn’t see.

  Sickness curled through my stomach. I stumbled back. Old wounds ripped open. Wide and gaping. Crippling. I gripped my head.

  Oh fuck.

  I shook my head harder, fumbling down off the steps that had led me to his door.

  What the fuck did I think I would achieve coming here?

  Redemption?

  Closure?

  All I’d earned was another slap across my mother’s face, her memory disgraced.

  My attention shot to the woman’s hand still splayed across her chest, to his that hung limp like submission at his side, their matching rings a fucking mockery.

  I slammed my eyes shut as if I could block it all. The same pleading voice ripped through the memories. I tore my eyes open. My father stood right in front of me. “Jared… please… don’t take off,” he coaxed. “Please… stay. Talk to me.”

  I took two shaking steps back.

  He grabbed for my elbow. I tore it away, flinging my arm out at him in warning. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

  Hurt flared in his eyes. “Jared, please.”

  His attention latched onto my knuckles, first the hand I hurled in front of his face. It shot to the other stamped with the year she died before he tracked it up the sins that marked every inch of my skin.

  The deepest frown pulled at his brows, like he was processing the last seven years, like he didn’t recognize me and he was seeing the son he shunned for the very first time.

  Then it all registered.

  He buckled at the middle, gripped his own head. “Oh my God… Jared.”

  What did he think? That I’d just moved on with my life? God knew I’d been trying to, to find some semblance of normalcy amid all the chaos, to let myself love when I’d stolen his.

  I glanced up at his house. But that was exactly what he’d done. He’d moved on.

  He’d rejected me and forgotten her.

  I was just a kid.

  The thought blasted through me, almost knocking me from my feet.

  That rock of unspent emotion lodged in my throat burned with the burden, threatening to break free, cracking under the weight of the affliction I’d carried for all these years.

  God, I hated him. Hated that he hurt me.

  It was the first time I could admit it.

  He hurt me.

  Left me when I needed him most.

  I fought against the emotion brimming within me.

 

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