by Unknown
When he was done, he paused by my ear, warm breath caressing my cheek, and whispered, “If I want a kiss, trust me, I’ll get one.”
If the reaction from his body pressed close against me was any indication, then he did want that kiss. And more.
When he finally pulled away, the expression on his face had morphed from jovial to serious. “What I want is for you to tell me the truth. What happened at Huntington?”
An icy wave of panic rolled over me. Admitting it happened, out loud, scared me nearly as much as the actual attack had. If I didn’t speak about it, then I could pretend it wasn’t real. Even though a masochistic part of me wanted him to keep going, to push past and claim my personal space as his own, my breath faltered and the walls sprang up.
A million retorts bubbled to the surface and I bit down hard on my tongue to keep from saying something I’d regret. We stood there, eye to eye, neither of us willing to budge. The air cooled and fire between us fizzled, and all the rejection I felt when he turned his back and left came rushing to the surface again. “This should really go without saying, but why the hell do you care?”
“Because I know there’s something going on and I’m worried.”
“If you were so concerned about me then you should have stuck around.” The bitterness in my voice grated. “Can’t just walk back into my life and plant yourself in the center again.”
I pushed him, but he wouldn’t budge. It only made me angrier. More helpless. There was too much of that in my life right now. The shitty job. The lack of direction. The overdue bills piling up. I was giving inches and life was taking miles. I’d reached the breaking point. An explosion had been building for some time now, and how poetic was it that Jax was conveniently standing right here?
“What you did was selfish. Whatever your issues were, it was easier to run away than stay here and face them. A coward,” I breathed. “You’re a damn coward.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he snapped, then softened just a bit.”I didn’t just decide to leave on a whim. I had a damn good reason. And it really pisses me off that you could even think it was a careless, spur-of-the-moment choice and that it didn’t rip me the fuck apart.” He grabbed the shelf on either side of my head and leaned close again. “Just tell me what the hell happened at Huntington.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he growled, then took a deep breath. “You need to tell someone, Sammy. For your own sanity.”
“I was attacked.” The words spilled out before I could stop them. It was him. The cosmic pull he had on every part of me. Mind, body, and soul.
My heart pounded, a thundering echo inside my chest, and a rush of anger crashed over me. It chased away the hurt and replaced it with pure rage. That he’d gotten what he wanted. That I’d had to say it out loud. That I, in some small way, blamed him for the whole thing. It was completely irrational, but I couldn’t push the feelings aside.
I braced my hands against his chest and gave a good shove, this time putting some solid distance between us. Do. Not. Cry. “Someone attacked me on my way home from a party one night and I couldn’t take it. I ran away. Are you happy now? You know the truth. Do you feel better?”
For the longest moment he said nothing. He was staring at me with the strangest expression. Not anger or confusion. Not pain or regret. It was like he was concentrating. I could see him breathing. The steady, slightly quickened rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled, and then, the flexing of his right hand. I was just about to scream at him again when he finally spoke.
“No,” he said, almost too low for me to hear. “I don’t feel better.”
A tickle in my belly. That sinking feeling that comes when you say or do something that can’t be taken back. More than embarrassment. Mortification. Heat flamed to life in my cheeks, and I knotted both fists tight, determined not to lose it in front of him again. While saying it out loud lifted the two-ton weight that had been crushing me, it also let that raw, wounded part of my soul spill out.
I wanted to stop at that, but the words just kept coming. “I left a party. Halfway home, someone came up behind me… He tried to wrestle me into the shadows and everything got dark really fast. I don’t remember much. Whoever it was covered my mouth with a rag…I dunno…” I’d gone to the police. They’d taken a statement and made a promise to look into it. Miraculously, I hadn’t been badly hurt so it wasn’t a priority.
The whole situation was eerily familiar. A fuzzy memory, one from the night my parents were killed, lurked just beneath the surface, but I couldn’t grab it. Being attacked must have stirred things up. “I think—I think someone scared the guy off.”
Jax nodded. He was too quiet and it was making me nervous. When he spoke again, there was a feral intensity to his voice that scared me. “You remember anything else? Weight, height, hair color? Any defining characteristics?”
I didn’t want to talk about this. Not with him. Not with anyone. But there was no way he’d let it go.
“His voice was muffled and gravelly. I remember thinking it sounded wrong somehow. Fake, almost. Like one of those prank voice boxes, ya know?” That voice was the star of my recent nightmares, telling me to stop struggling. To give in. It was the sound that woke me in a cold sweat, sometimes screaming until my throat was raw. “I’d been drinking at the party and I’d had a huge fight with Aaron, this guy I went out with once. He got grabby and I decked him. Everyone at the party saw it go down. That’s a big part of why the cops dismissed the whole thing. A domestic dispute, they called it—but that’s crap. Aaron had been drinking, same as me. The guy who jumped me didn’t smell like alcohol.”
He didn’t respond, so I continued, too afraid of letting the silence float between us.
“I left school a few days later. I couldn’t concentrate. I kept looking over my shoulder. Waiting for someone to break down my door in the middle of the night. I kept thinking…” That history was repeating itself. And it was, right? The attack, the accidents, the car… Those were connected in some way. I wanted to tell him. To throw myself into his arms and let him help me carry the weight like he used to. But that time had passed. “I kept thinking I was insane. I just couldn’t handle it.”
“Sammy, this is nothing—”
“Martin is probably ready to shit rocks,” I said, gathering several bottles from the shelf before I lost my nerve and spilled it all. There was no way I’d let him finish that sentence. Already, a familiar stinging sensation in the corners of my eyes told me enough was enough. He made a move to take some of the bottles from me, but I jerked away, refusing his help. When I looked at him again, I had my game face on. This Sam could take on the world all by herself. She didn’t need anyone. She didn’t need Jax.
“Let me help you. Please.”
I was pretty sure he wasn’t talking about the armful of bottles. “It’s all good. I’m good. I make really great money here and I was going to have issues paying next semester’s tuition anyway. I would have had to drop out. Whoever this wacko was, he did me a favor.”
With that, I made my way back out to the floor, hoping to God he’d finally take the hint and just move on with his life.
Because that’s what I needed to do.
Chapter Nine
Jax
Fifteen minutes passed before I could even think about leaving the basement. The anger raging inside, provoking the demon, was borderline nuclear. I thought getting her to admit what happened out loud would help, but the truth was, it made things worse. For both of us.
The night on campus that Sam was attacked was the first time in years that I’d been so physically close to her. The demon went nuts, and once I was sure she was safe, I freaked and ran for the town line.
After hearing that the brakes had been cut, and seeing her reaction tonight, I was positive these accidents were connected. I imagined finding the bastard and tearing him apart, tiny piece by tiny piece. Not that this was the first time it’d crossed my mind
. For days after the attack, I’d thought of nothing more. But in the end, I’d walked away, sure that there was no way to find the bastard responsible. The demon flashed images of a faceless man, beaten and broken a thousand different ways.
Something needed to be done.
When I was sure I had my anger in check, I left the cellar and surveyed the main room. Sam was back at the bar, fake smile firmly in place. Her colors were a mix of gray and red, but also the deep blue of sadness. It hurt to see her in pain, but in a twisted way, it was easier. Knowing that I’d caused that pain would make it easier to leave. Justified.
She was talking to a black woman with blond dreadlocks, and a tall man who kept stealing subtle glances down her low-cut shirt. If he didn’t back the fuck off soon, there was a good chance I’d cross the room and kick his teeth in.
From the smell of it, the club was mostly human, although there was a faint trace of a demon or two. Each one had its own unique scent. A slight variation of sulfur and what I found similar to burning motor oil. It wasn’t surprising to find some here.
I hovered by a table on the other end of the room. The place was almost empty and they were bound to boot me any minute. Still, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Sam. The distinct swirl of gray that surrounded her was like a black cloud hanging over her head. I could taste it from across the club, the sticky sweetness of her fear.
How many nights had I woken to find her sitting on the balcony outside her room in the middle of the night when we were younger. Nightmares. They were always the same—someone attacking her. We sat across from each other for hours, until the sun came up. Sometimes we talked. Other times we just watched the stars. Now, if I was right, she was reliving that nightmare in a very real way.
People were heading for the door in groups. Two of the three bars had closed, Sam’s being one of them, and I watched from across the room as she gathered the garbage and headed for the exit. If I had any hope of ending this, I’d need details about the person who’d attacked her. She had to have seen something. Heard or smelled something. Even the smallest detail could be important. Just a few more questions and I’d leave her alone. If I could track the guy down and finish him off, I could be on my way and done with Harlow in a day or two tops.
She slipped out the door right before I reached it, and when I stepped into the cool night air, she was already flipping open the Dumpster lid. I was about to call out to her, but the sound of an engine roaring to life, followed by bright lights flooding the narrow alley, stopped me cold. Sam didn’t turn around. She never had the chance. The engine revved twice, then squealing tires filled the air as the car shot forward.
I crashed into her a second before the car collided with the corner of Dumpster—right where she’d been standing—and continued on without slowing. The clatter it made was drowned out by Sam’s startled gasp and her almost-deafening heartbeat as I crushed her to the brick wall.
My own heart thundered. She was so close. I could smell the night on her—the smoke and alcohol from the club—but also a scent that was all Sam. Sweet and distinct. It took a second to get the words out since the inside of my mouth was suddenly like the damn Sahara, but I finally backed away several inches and asked, “Are you okay?”
She shook her head. Not back and forth or up and down, but more in a circular motion. “Yes… No. Sort of.” A shaky sigh escaped her lips. “Wow. Someone needs to learn how to drive. That guy—”
“Someone just tried to run you down, Sammy,” I barked before she could get any further. She wasn’t glossing over it this time. “On purpose. I know about the other stuff that’s been going on, so don’t try to bullshit me.”
She kept her eyes down and said nothing.
“I’m never going to buy this shit you’re selling. Just let me help you. Please.”
Sam lifted her head. For a second she didn’t say anything, but it was all there in her eyes. Pain. Betrayal. Sadness. Even without the dizzying mix of color swirling around her shoulders it was obvious. “It isn’t your problem. Remember?” she asked quietly. She made a move to walk away, but hesitated, gaze lifting to meet mine. “I don’t get it, Jax. One minute we’re standing in the woods and you’re spilling your guts and spouting shit about it being you and me against the world. You kiss the crap out of me, then the next morning I’m waking up to Rick at our front door telling us you’ve left home.” She ran both hands through her long hair, then clapped her hands once. The sound echoed in the alleyway. “Boom. Just like that. No note. No phone call. No explanation. Not even to me.”
“I did what I had to do,” I said. “I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense, and that you don’t understand, but I did what I did for you.”
“For me?”
“I don’t expect you to for—”
She hit me. Fist tight, Sam punched me in the jaw. The blow didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt good. Justified. I deserved it and then some. This was her chance to let it out.
“How dare you say it was for me,” she cried, shoving me hard in the chest. The waves of gray and blue turned red, swirling like a tornado. “It was for you. For your own selfish reasons.” She shoved harder, and the demon grew restless, excited by her outrage. “But whatever your reasons were, they were all for you and no one else.”
Maybe it was the demon, and maybe it was just my own temper, but I couldn’t stop myself. When she raised her hand to push me again, I caught it and held tight. Pushing her back, I said, “I’m not going to say this again, so listen carefully. There are things you don’t know—” She opened her mouth to interrupt, but I clamped a hand across. Always talking. Always interrupting. “Things you’ll never know. But it killed me to leave and if you think I haven’t felt guilty about it every fucking day since, you’re delusional.”
She pried my hand lose and laughed. A broken, painful sound that touched me in places I didn’t want to go. “Guilty? Good. You should feel guilty. I would have never been on that sidewalk—at that stupid college—if you hadn’t left me behind. You don’t care about anyone—”
I grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her back to the wall again. “Enough!”
She stared, shocked.
“Like it or not, I did what I did because I had to. Not because I wanted to.” What the hell was it about this girl? She was a magnetic pull that seemed to suck away all common sense. Before I knew what I was doing, I brushed my thumb lightly across her cheek to wipe away a single tear.
She closed her eyes for a second, holding her breath and staying absolutely still. When she opened them, a lot of the red smoke dissipated. “Did you know? That night you left, when you kissed me, that it was good-bye?”
Fuck. Her words were like a scythe cutting me in half. If I’d known, I never would have kissed her. “No. It wasn’t supposed to be a kiss good-bye. It wasn’t supposed to be the end. I wanted it to be the beginning.”
“But it was the end, right?”
There were a million ways I wanted to respond. All variations of hell, no. “Right.”
By the subtle nod of her head, I could tell she’d expected as much, but the pain was still there. In her eyes and in her colors. Deep blue. In the way her breath hitched and her eyes glistened. Sam took a deep breath. “Then do it.”
“Huh?”
She pushed against me, stopping a few inches from my lips. “Kiss me good-bye.”
My gaze dropped to her mouth, lips ruby-tinted and inviting. Shit…
Inside, the demon rumbled, but instead of the usual images it fed me—blood, violence, and rage—it showed something else. A flash of the kiss the night I left. Then, another of the one at the bottom of the lake. It wanted me to kiss Sam. The want fanned into something stronger. Need. It needed me to kiss Sam.
So I did.
It wasn’t a slow, sweet kiss. It was the dive-right-in-before-you-lose-your-fucking-nerve kind. Arms winding around her waist, I pulled her close and covered her mouth with mine. Soft, warm, and eager, she tasted faintly of vodka and cherr
ies. It was sensation overload. A veritable shock to my system. I was a lightning rod in a hurricane. Pushed to the brink, but happy, because it’s where I was meant to be. Always riding the line between pleasure and pain.
This was need. A primal, dark, animalistic force that screamed in every one of my limbs. Being here with her now, after having been away for so long, made me desperate to take as much of her as I could. Devour what I could get and savor it.
I ground my hips against her, groaning into her mouth when the sensation threatened to send me crashing over the edge. She gasped and pushed back, riding the high as eagerly as I was. There was nothing gentle here. Nothing chaste. The moment was about something forbidden and raw. The curse had taken my life from me, but I wasn’t the only one. It destroyed everyone it touched. Breaking and shattering until there was nothing left but emptiness and anger.
Sam’s fingers clutched my shoulders, digging into skin like she was trying to keep me there forever. The energy radiating from her was a humming vibration setting every part of my body on fire. I tasted her sadness and regret, and the pain she’d felt for every day I’d been gone. Breathing deep, I took it in, giving the thing inside what it craved and easing some of my pain. It drove the demon crazy. The monster scratched and writhed to get a bigger taste. I pushed it back.
She couldn’t feel the emotion like I could, but I wanted to make sure she understood what I was unable to put into words.
That I missed her.
My lips moved with hers as I roughly grabbed either side of her face. Sliding my hands back, my fingers tangled through her long hair, then settled to cradle the back of her head to keep it away from the brick wall. A contented sigh rose in her throat at the contact. It was the most fragile, delicate sound I’d ever heard and it drove me crazy.
That she was the single most important thing to me…
She deepened the kiss, rising up onto her toes and licking at my bottom lip. Her cheeks were warm and wet, tears falling freely now. The debris of the broken past between us momentarily washed away.