Miss ~ Harloe Rae

by Rae, Harloe

  “Zee.” His name is a desperate plea falling from my lips. “Please talk to me.”

  His only response is a barely-there jerk of his head. Once again shutting me down.

  The pain in my face is long forgotten. All I can think about is losing this man. I absolutely refuse. Zeke stares straight ahead with a blank look, apparently not seeing anything.

  “How’re you feeling?” Addison’s soft voice breaks the silence.

  “I’m all right. It’s not a huge deal,” I murmur. I can downplay until my face is blue, but that won’t change the fact that Zeke isn’t handling this well. He won’t even let me touch him. There’s a big problem festering just below the surface. I shiver thinking about the conversation we’ll have later.

  Of course he’s reading my thoughts. “You’re not fucking okay. Don’t pretend for my benefit,” Zeke growls quietly.

  “I’m really fine,” I say softly and attempt to hold his hand again. He immediately snaps it out of reach. I don’t bother concealing my defeated sigh. Addison rubs my shoulder, and I send her a wobbly smile.

  We’re all painfully silent for the remaining trip to Garden Grove. I can’t help feeling this is some sort of peace before utter ruin.

  I’m eager to assure Zeke that everything is good, but my stomach is twisted in knots. I’m worried he won’t be easily convinced. When we pull into Trey’s driveway, Zeke opens his door before the truck is in park. He’s hauling ass away from me without a word. I slowly follow him to his pickup parked along the curb, sorrow weighing me down. Zeke tosses a glance behind him and realizes I’m there. He shuffles to a stop and faces me.

  “What’re you doing, Trip?

  “Aren’t we going to my place?”

  He’s shaking his head before I’m done talking. “You need to stay here with Raven and Addy.”

  “What? Why would I do that?”

  “They’ll keep an eye on you to make sure there’s no concussion.”

  I frown. “That’s silly. I’m—”

  Zeke doesn’t let me finish. “I know a thing or two about this type of abuse, Delilah. A concussion is very plausible.” His expression is flat and lifeless.

  “Abuse?” I whisper the word.

  He’s staring at his hands again, turning and flipping them rapidly, mumbling something unintelligible.

  I eventually ask, “What?”

  “I’m just like him,” he mutters.

  A sharp cramp squeezes my stomach, but I need clarification before assuming the worst. “Who?”

  “My father.” Zeke’s despondent tone guts me.

  I gasp and move toward him, but he stumbles away. I plead, “No, no, no. Don’t ever compare yourself to him, Zee. You’re nothing like him.”

  He holds up a violently shaking hand, glaring at it like the sight offends him. “But I am. Look what I did to you. I’ve always been terrified of turning into this type of monster. This is exactly why I stayed away all these years. I couldn’t risk putting you in harm’s way.”

  “Don’t you dare, Zeke. This was a mistake,” I say and gesture at my cheek.

  He sucks in a choppy breath. “Yeah, it was. None of this should have happened. You’ve always been too good for me.”

  I gape at him. “What? No. That’s not what—”

  Zeke smirks sadly. “I get it, Delilah. His blood burns in my veins. I can’t get rid of him. Why would you ever settle for a man like me?”

  “You’re so much better than him. He’s a horrible human being, Zee. You’re kind and sweet and the love of my life.”

  His bitter laugh is like a strike against my wounded face. “No, I’m not. Not anymore. I proved him right tonight. He’d always taunt me by saying I’d grow up to be just like him. Turns out he was right.”

  I can’t hold back the tears, and they blur my vision. I angrily swipe the drops away. “Don’t say shit like that, Zeke. It’s not true. I know the real you, deep down, and this isn’t him. Fight for us. Please.”

  “I did and look what happened.”

  “It was an accident!” I cry, desperately wanting to shake sense into him.

  “Doesn’t matter. I hurt you and that’s what counts.”

  “You’d never lay a hand on me in anger. I know you wouldn’t. You’re upset, and I understand. But that doesn’t mean you have to leave me here.”

  “I won’t risk this happening again. You mean too much to me, Delilah. Letting you go will likely end me, but it’s for the best.”

  I’m crying openly now while my heart is shattering. “Would you ever hurt me on purpose?”

  His response is immediate. “I’d rather die.”

  I hold my arms out. “See? What’s the issue?”

  “Just look at your face! I hit you.”

  “Repeating that won’t make it true. You were defending me.”

  “People won’t see it that way.”

  “Who gives a shit what they think,” I wail.

  Zeke jabs a thumb into his chest. “Me. I’ve always known you deserve better. This proves it.”

  “Stop it. Stop this right now,” I beg.

  Zeke is crumbling before my eyes. His powerful frame is slumping in defeat. Torment is etched deep into his features. My fingers itch to smooth away the creases, but I’m sure he’d refuse to let me. He’s breaking down. I need to be strong for us both. Arguing isn’t solving anything. He needs to see reason, and that’s not happening standing out here.

  “Let’s go home. We’ll talk more about this in the morning,” I say and reach out my hand for him to take.

  He glances at my trembling fingers. “I don’t belong there with you. Not after what I did.”

  “You’re wrong. I love you, Zee. I need you with me. Always,” I demand.

  He’s vehemently shaking his head. “I’m dangerous.”

  “No, you’re most certainly not. Stop attacking yourself. I hate it,” I tell him honestly.

  His vacant blue stare veers off into the distance. “I’m so fucking sorry, Delilah.”

  “Why won’t you look at me?”

  “Because it hurts too much watching you cry.”

  I edge closer, and he doesn’t move away. “I’ll stop if you tell me everything will be okay between us.”

  “I can’t do that,” he replies softly.

  Real fear takes root in my stomach and begins to grow. Zeke is serious about this. “Don’t do this. I can’t be without you.”

  He sniffs and rubs his eyes. “I can’t handle the fact that your face is bruised because of me, Delilah. No matter the reason, I shouldn’t have lost my temper. That fucker at the club was saying all these disgusting things about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about him touching you. He pushed me too far, but it doesn’t change shit. I’ve never hurt anyone before, not on purpose. But I wanted to pummel that guy.”

  “He would have deserved it. He’s a creep preying on women. You were protecting me,” I reiterate.

  “And we see how that turned out.”

  I want to stomp my foot and yell. Instead, I take a calming breath. “Please stop aiming at that target. If you hadn’t saved me—”

  “But I didn’t. I bashed my—”

  I’ve had it with us going around in circles. I leap forward and wrap my arms around him. Zeke is a stiff board in my desperate hold, but after a few moments he relaxes into the embrace. For a few blissful moments, his hands drift up and down my back. All too soon he squeezes me and pulls away.

  Zeke twirls a few strands of my hair. “I wish things were different.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask warily.

  “I’d want nothing more than to be deserving of you. But I’m not.” His voice is quaking, and the vibrations rattle my bones.

  “N-no, Zee. Stop talking like this.”

  “It’s the truth, Trip. I tried to avoid the inevitable, but my chances ran out.”

  He allows me to link our fingers. I lift my watery eyes to his. “We’re meant to be together. There’s no doubt in my mind or
heart. I love you too much to ever give up.”

  “You’ll have to believe for both of us. All my faith just ran out,” Zeke admits solemnly.

  “I’ll never stop fighting for us,” I promise him.

  He brushes a thumb down my uninjured cheek. “My strong girl. It’ll be better this way. One day, you’ll see that.”

  I lean into his touch, but he quickly moves away.

  “Why does this feel like goodbye?” I whisper.

  He presses his lips to my forehead with a shuddering exhale. “Because it is.”

  Resignation slams down, and it’s obvious Zeke is winning this round. No matter what I say, he’s not taking me with him. I clear my throat and rasp, “All right. I’ll stay with Raven and Addison. But this isn’t the end of us.”

  “I can’t offer you anything, Delilah.”

  I ignore his words. “Just don’t keep me waiting five more years.”

  Zeke smirks sadly. “I’ll always love you, Trip.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping for because I’ll never stop loving you.”

  He presses his velvet lips against mine for a couple beats. I greedily inhale his woodsy scent, wanting to commit this moment to memory. Zeke slowly pulls away, as if ending our kiss is painful. It sure feels that way to me.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” I try to inject positivity in my voice.

  He shrugs, and that’s all the answer I get. Zeke gets in his truck and drives away. I watch his taillights fade, my tears blurring them into a blotchy mass of red. A soul-deep burn strikes and spreads while I worry about him not stopping at the county line.

  SABOTAGE

  Zeke

  AS THE VEIL of sleep whisks away, the first thing I notice is the searing pain in my neck and shoulders. After scrubbing the gunk from my eyes, I quickly remember why. I spent the night cramped in the cab of my pickup.

  There was nowhere worth going so after cruising aimlessly, I parked in a deserted lot at the outskirts of town. I gingerly sit up and contemplate my next move. Ditching Garden Grove without a backward glance sounds appealing, but I’m not a fucking coward. I’ve already committed enough crimes against Delilah and this town. I won’t add more to that rap sheet by abandoning my responsibilities and job. Devon has never let me down so no matter what, I’ll pull through and finish this project.

  My worst fears warped into reality when I struck Delilah. That bruise might not leave a lasting mark, but I’ll always see the harm I caused. She wasn’t mad, which confused me at first. I’ve come to the realization that she was in shock yesterday. The full impact of what I’ve done hadn’t set in. I’m sure she’s singing a different tune now.

  I recall the hurt flaring in Delilah’s eyes. I’d ignored it. I couldn’t let her seep through the cracks and see my weakness. I refuse to budge on that. I’m lost and broken and only bring destruction.

  But dammit, I want her. The battle flares to life, both sides demanding and unforgiving. I feel ripped in half and utterly destroyed. There’s no walking away from Delilah unscathed.

  A ping calls out into the silence around me. I’ve lost track of how many times Delilah has texted or called. The notifications sound like static at this point, similar to the dull buzz in my brain. To add insult to injury, I grab my phone off the dashboard. I scroll through her messages and read a few of my favorites from last night.

  Trip: The sheets are cold without you beside me. I miss your warmth.

  Trip: I miss your goodnight kisses.

  Trip: I miss you cuddling with me.

  Trip: I miss you, Zee. Please call me.

  Then I see the one Delilah just sent.

  Trip: Where are you, Zee? I need to see you. I love you. Come back to me.

  I wipe the moisture from my eyes. Imagining her upset over me is worse than brass knuckles to the kidneys. Why doesn’t she hate me? She’s trying to console me, the one who struck her face. What the hell? Delilah can try excusing my behavior, but I know the truth. I hurt the only person who’s ever truly loved me.

  Being away from her is going to hurt so fucking bad. But this is the price I must pay.

  Even with miles between us, Delilah hears my need for her. Another alert sounds and I glance at the screen.

  Trip: Why won’t you answer? You better not be sitting around, taking the blame. You’re a good man, Zee. The best I’ve ever known. The only one for me. Remember? You can’t leave me.

  Maybe Delilah expects me to flee like the unreliable loser I am. That would explain why she’s blowing up my cell. She won’t have to worry about me hounding her for a second—no, scratch that—a third fucking chance. I’ll keep my distance for real this time. I won’t be dragging her down with me.

  Delilah needs a good man who will treat her right. I gulp down the acid burning my throat. Thinking of her with someone else is the worst type of torture, but that’s all I deserve. I’ve ruined us permanently with no hope of redemption. After the dust has cleared, I’ll visit her and end things for good. I’ll make sure she moves on. I don’t want her clinging to an ounce of false possibility or belief this can work out for us. We’re done and it’s all my fault.

  I groan and bang my head against the steering wheel. The sharp blow temporarily distracts me from the shitstorm my life has once again become. Not that I’m surprised. I’m destined for nothing except swinging a hammer and building other people’s dreams.

  Thank fuck it’s the weekend so there’s no work. I can wallow in my well-deserved misery alone. An idea pokes at my foggy brain, and I blink rapidly to clear the cobwebs. I’ll head to the gym and beat my own ass, or find someone to do it for me. There will be plenty of takers for how I treated Delilah. I bet an angry mob is already forming on Main Street.

  I crank my pickup to life, and the engine turns over without pause. Trey worked magic on this rust-bucket, just like he boasted about. Fucker wouldn’t even let me pay him. Bertha’s like-new condition is one more thing Delilah helped with. I can’t escape her, even in my own damn truck.

  My thoughts grow darker and grimmer, a black cloud swooping in and stealing any signs of light. I’m sure Delilah is crying to her friends about what an asshole I turned out to be. She’s probably regretting the weeks she wasted on me. She’s probably cursing my name and never wants to see me again.

  Fucking stupid shit.

  I punch the steering wheel repeatedly. How the fuck did this happen? How could I do this to Delilah? I hit my temple, again and again, barely seeing the road in front of me. If I crash into a tree, the world will be a better place. But there’s other people around to worry about. All I need right now is to hurt someone else. Dammit, on top of everything, I’m a reckless idiot.

  I slam to a stop along the curb, get my bag stashed under the seat, and jog the rest of the way. The concrete building beckons me and speaks to my toxic mind. I’ll take care of the crazy shit spinning inside of me soon enough.

  I step through the doors and immediately gag. It smells like piss and sweat, which goes great with my mood. This gym is exactly that, straightforward with no frills or fancy shit. Just a place to pump iron, or in my case work out until I’m in a comatose state.

  I overload the bench press and get moving. I quickly lose track of reps, the motions a rapid blur. Soon enough my arms are numb, but I keep pushing, determined to force out every last ounce of breath from my pathetic lungs. I feel blisters forming on my palms, but that doesn’t hinder me. I go until there’s nothing left.

  My mind is empty and drained. Fire races across every inch of my skin. My heart is pounding too fast, yet I feel sluggish. A hollow beat echoes through my chest and lulls me into a false sense of peace. My eyes burn, it physically hurts to keep them open. Maybe the fight will be over soon.

  I’m barely conscious when someone moves toward me on the mat. I hardly notice since my body has effectively been pushed to the point of collapse. Fingers snap in my face, and I flinch but can’t move otherwise. The person claps several times, and I manage to peel my heavy l
ids opens. Ryan is there, hovering over me with concern marring his features.

  “Thank fuck,” he says. “For a second, I thought you were dead.”

  My mouth isn’t functioning. Probably due to my jaw being full of lead. I rotate it back and forth until the joint clicks. “Nah, not yet,” I rasp.

  “The fuck you doing? Trying to kill yourself?”

  I shift slightly and hiss out a stilted breath. “That’d be fine. Save people a lot of trouble.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Word hasn’t spread? That’s surprising.”

  “Considering I have no clue what you’re talking about, I’d say the secret is still locked up.”

  White spots dance in my vision, and I blink too slowly. Ryan shakes my shoulder. “Stay awake, man.”

  I force my eyes wide, which only seems to be a sliver. “Sorry,” I mumble.

  He scans the rest of me. “Dude, your hands are fucked.”

  I snort. “Good. I should cut them off for the pain they’ve caused.”

  “That’s melodramatic as fuck. What the hell is going on?”

  I lick my chapped lips and don’t think twice about spilling the truth. “I hit Delilah last night.”

  His face screws up into an odd expression. “You? I find that extremely hard to believe. You’re a fucking teddy bear when it comes to that woman.”

  I attempt to shrug. “Guess not, huh?”

  Ryan lifts his brows. “Tell me what went down. Paint the scene for me.”

  “What more to do you need to know? We went to Cyclone. Some asshat was trying to force himself on Delilah. I was putting a stop to it and clipped her instead.”

  “So, it was an accident,” he states.

  “You sound like her. Doesn’t matter either way. That bruise on her cheek is from me.”

  “Damn, that’s messed up.”

  A choking sound bubbles from my throat. “Glad you’re on the same page. I’m a fucking monster.”

  He scoffs. “Don’t be a dumbass. You’re taking blame for a legit mistake while protecting her. That’s what you were doing, right? Defending her honor? That’s more your style.”