Come to Me Recklessly

by A. L. Jackson

Because this time, I wasn’t letting Christopher go.

  Shaking my head, I forced myself out of my car and into the warmth of the balmy day. I headed up the sidewalk, truly anxious to see Stewart. I warred with the sadness that engulfed me when the picture of his face hit my mind. He’d progressively gotten sicker. Weaker. Thinner.

  I hated it, but I pinned a smile on my face, unwilling to put any sort of damper on our visit.

  With a quick tap on the wooden door, I twisted the knob and stepped inside. “Mom?” I called. I eased into the silent house, walking through the foyer and stepping into the family room.

  “Congratulations!”

  I stumbled back in shock when a chorus of cheers rang against the walls. Stunned, I stood at the edge of the room, my mouth gaping as I took in all the faces smiling back at me. My mom and dad, and Sean and Stephanie were there, too. Stewart was on the couch, surrounded by a mound of pillows, tucked under a blanket.

  My gaze glided back around the room to take in the balloons and streamers, the place decked out for a celebration. It trailed over to my aunt and uncle, who had my younger cousins in tow.

  “What is this?” I asked, my chest feeling all light and fluttery, and my mom stepped forward.

  “Oh, sweetheart, today we’re celebrating you,” she said.

  Gratitude filled me to the brim, pressing full at my ribs, and tears welled in my eyes. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but it’d hurt when I’d received little recognition when I told my parents about the job. I’d felt it a brush-off, a dismissal of something that had been so important to me.

  Still, with everything they were dealing with, I completely understood.

  But this?

  This was so much more than I expected.

  “Sam.” The deep voice assaulted me from off to the right, behind me, just out of view. Chills skated across the nape of my neck, lifting the delicate hairs. My stomach lurched when Ben approached from where he’d been hidden in the back corner. His mother and father stood behind him. Profuse, exuberant smiles on their faces.

  Ben was so sure as he rounded me, as he dropped to his knee and pulled a black velvet box from his pocket.

  Oh God.

  Realization sunk like a rock into my consciousness.

  No.

  I couldn’t deal with this.

  Not today.

  Not ever.

  I could feel my head shaking, my entire body vibrating with the sentiment.

  No. No. No.

  This could not be happening.

  My body leaned away, repelling the situation, desperate for a way to be saved from this humiliation.

  But I was stuck, a soundless scream locked somewhere in my throat as Ben took my hand, our enthusiastic, expectant audience urging him on. Breaths bated, hands clasped at their chins, as they awaited the most romantic of gestures.

  There was nothing romantic about this.

  This was coercion.

  Brown eyes flashed up to mine and he clutched my trembling hand, and he and I both knew it. I saw possession flare in his eyes, the zealous violence in the clench of his jaw.

  Subtly, I tried to pull my hand away, silently begging him not to do this. Almost painfully, he squeezed my wrist.

  And I stood there feeling like the most foolish little girl. Like the pitiful pool of despair that he’d found on that bathroom floor years ago because I had no idea how to make my mouth work as he slid the huge ring on my finger.

  He didn’t ask me.

  And I never said yes.

  Because I wouldn’t.

  And I was sure there was some part of him that knew it.

  Part of him that knew everything even though he had no idea at all.

  “There,” he said, his mouth screwing up into a smug smile, his voice dropping low enough that only I could hear him. “All mine.”

  Hot, angry tears broke free. Tears my family misinterpreted as happiness. They broke out in applause.

  I couldn’t believe he was doing this, right here, in front of our families, but another piece of me wasn’t surprised at all. I wanted to scream, No! Never!

  But that guilt flared. What I’d been doing was wrong. Immoral. And despite where my heart lay, Ben had been my rock for a lot of years. There when no one else had been. It would be cruel to humiliate him in front of our families, and I needed to give him the time he deserved and end this the right way, if there ever could be a right way to end things.

  But one thing I knew was I needed to do it without an audience. Without the disappointment and questions such a scene would be sure to inspire.

  As excruciating as faking my way through this afternoon was going to be.

  My mother rushed forward and pulled me into her arms, her words low at my ear. “Oh, sweetheart, I am so happy for you.” She met my eyes, respect reflected in hers. “I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.” She turned and reached down, softly cupping Ben’s cheek. “Thank you for allowing us to be a part of this moment.”

  She looked back at me, admiration steeped in her tone. “When Ben called me late Wednesday night and asked for my help putting this together, I was ecstatic. We even got your sister out here from California in time.”

  I wanted to puke.

  Wednesday.

  After our dinner.

  Numbly, I stood there while our families filed forward. People who only loved me and cared and had no clue of the real nature of the man who pushed up from his knee to stand at my side, a self-righteous expression embedded deep on his face.

  God, I really was a fool.

  The only one who didn’t come up to offer congratulations was Stewart. He remained on the couch, watching us, disappointment and disgust spread out over his pale, pale face.

  I spent the rest of the day pretending.

  Now I was sitting through the most torturous meal I had ever experienced, one that seemed to go on forever, one I was sure both my mother and Ben’s had slaved over for hours, hoping to provide us with a perfect yet simple engagement party. Everyone tried to involve me in wedding plans, talk of dates and budgets and cake.

  The bile wouldn’t recede from my throat.

  The entire time, Ben held my hand shackled in his on the top of the table, as if he’d won a prize.

  While I had the most unladylike urge to spit in his face.

  He’d orchestrated this just like he’d maneuvered me into the house he’d rented. Bending me to his will. Breaking the broken little girl just a little more. Molding me into who he wanted me to be.

  But I no longer fit.

  Could no longer conform.

  Over my shoulder, I watched the movement from the couch. Stewart climbed to his unsteady feet, braced himself on the arm of the couch. “Hey, Ma, I’m going to go lie down on my bed. I’m not feeling so great.”

  Heavy emotion washed over her, but she forced a smile. “Sure, sweetheart. I’ll come check on you in a bit.”

  He shot me a meaningful glance before he shuffled down the hall.

  Pushing back my chair to stand, I finally reclaimed my hand from Ben’s overbearing grasp. “I’m going to go spend a little time with him.” Apologetically, I let my gaze bounce around the faces at the table. “Sunday afternoons are usually ours. I want to make sure I get to spend some time with him. Thank you all so much for coming today.”

  Nods from everyone, a scowl from Ben, confusion from my mom.

  I rubbed at my forehead as I turned away.

  God, Ben just had to pick today. He had to go and make it a hundred times worse. Make me break another oath that I’d not even given. Make the explanations even harder than they would have been.

  I tapped at Stewart’s door in the same second I pushed it open, casting him a soft smile as he pulled his covers up to his chin.

  “Hey,” I said.

  A half smile flitted around his mouth, stark blue eyes bugging out at me. “Well, if it isn’t the soon-to-be Mrs. Ben Carrington.”

  I cringed and crossed his room to brush a kiss
to his forehead.

  When I pulled back an inch, those blue eyes rolled and he smiled a playful smile. “You look thrilled, by the way. Just your typical, ecstatic blushing bride.”

  That was the thing with my little brother. It was he who could see right through me. He who knew me best. Facing away, I sat down on the edge of his bed. “That obvious, huh?”

  “Uh… yeah. Horror was written all over your face. So why don’t you go ahead and clue me in to who has your panties all wet, because I know it’s not Ben.”

  Mouth gaping, I jerked my attention over my shoulder. “What is wrong with you, Stewart? You’re so gross,” I hissed, feeling all that redness I’d worn the last twenty-four hours flood right back to my face.

  And how the heck did he know?

  Chuckling, he shrugged innocently. “What? If I die without having sex, at least I get to make fun of you about it.”

  “Don’t say that.” God, he was always so morbid.

  “Hey, you always say you want me to be completely honest with you. Think it’s about time you were honest with yourself.”

  His words were pointed, like a double-edged sword driven straight into my heart, all the truths I needed to accept in my life, ones I wanted to welcome and those I wanted to reject.

  Words muted to a whisper, Stewart leaned forward. “Now, tell me about this guy who has my sister all spun up. I want to know who had your eyes smiling before that asshole out there stepped in and stole it all away.”

  In shock, I stared back at this gentle boy, who held more insight than he should.

  My phone took that opportune time to buzz. I had it clutched in my hand, and I discreetly glanced down to catch the message that lit up the screen. Christopher’s name flashed across the top.

  My heart did that erratic thing again, but this time I recognized it. An extra beat that accelerated toward perfection. A blip of a moment that spanned farther and farther, stretching to reach that place where I ultimately belonged.

  “Who is it?” Stewart asked, trying to peek.

  “No one.”

  The one.

  I could feel the mischief ooze from my little brother, and he shoved his hand out, eyes teasing as he watched my expression. “Give it to me.”

  “No.”

  He grabbed it and tried to yank it from my hand.

  “What in the world is wrong with you, Stewart? I told you it was nothing.”

  It was everything.

  But would Stewart understand if he knew?

  He didn’t back down. “You wouldn’t wrestle a cancer patient, would you?”

  “Today I just might,” I shot back, everything between us both light and heavy.

  His expression shifted from playful to serious, sympathy and understanding filling up the well of his vivid blue eyes. “Please, Samantha. Let me see.”

  Hesitantly, I lessened my hold, nodding, giving it up, knowing Stewart was asking me to trust him. I gulped around the knot in my throat as he slid his finger across the plate. Stunned silence took him whole as he remained fixated on the message for the longest time.

  Finally he looked up to find my anxious, unsure gaze. Stewart blinked through a million questions. “Christopher?” he finally asked, quiet and cautious, looking back down at the text Christopher had sent.

  How is Stewart today? God, wish I could be there. This is torture, missing you. Feels like this is the longest day of my life.

  I nodded again, this time fighting tears. “Yes.”

  It’d always been Christopher.

  A soft smile edged his mouth. “You know the greatest wish in my life?”

  The tears I was fighting won. They broke free and streaked down my face.

  Stewart continued. “That you’d find happiness in yours.”

  He reached out and touched the side of my face, and I had the intense urge to hug him, to beg him to promise me he’d never leave me, to demand that he find the same for his own.

  So I did.

  He held me tight while I mumbled my pleas all over him, and I could feel his tears wetting my temple, mingling in my hair. His voice was rough and low. “Love you so much, Samantha. More than I think you could ever know. Thank you for always putting me first, for loving me and sacrificing for me. Now it’s time for you to do that for yourself. Don’t settle. Not now. Not ever.”

  “You’re my happy place,” I whispered, my hands in fists where they were twisted in his shirt.

  His voice was still raw, but he chuckled, his response woven with suggestion. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea about your happy place.”

  “Ew.” I smacked him lightly.

  He laughed more, hugged me as tight as he could, even though he felt weak and feeble below me.

  “Love you, Stew.”

  “Love you more.”

  “Not even possible,” I said.

  The door swung open. “What’s going on in here?”

  All that anxiety came barreling back, and I straightened myself to look back at Ben standing in the doorway.

  “Oh, you know, just bonding with the big sis,” Stewart said and he lifted a sarcastic brow. “Giving her all the congrats in the world for finding the love of her life.”

  I bit back laughter, but a short shot of it escaped and I clapped my hand over my mouth.

  Stewart cast me a knowing smirk, while Ben just frowned. Then he set his focus on me. “It’s getting late. We should get out of here. Head home.”

  Yeah. It was time. As loath as I was to do it. But somehow I didn’t feel quite as guilty as I had this morning.

  “Sure. Give me a second.”

  He lifted his chin and shut the door.

  I stood and leaned over Stewart, a good-bye kiss to his forehead, squeezed his hand. “Get better, Stewart. I need you well.”

  He cast me a somber smile. “Good-bye, Samantha.”

  I left his room and went around and told our families good-bye, giving thanks that I would just have to turn around and throw in their faces. I promised Stephanie we’d spend the rest of the day together tomorrow after I got off work before she had to return to California, and left my mother with an apologetic glance that she couldn’t yet understand.

  Then I got in my car and followed Ben home.

  Ben pulled into the garage. He didn’t spare me a glance when he climbed from his car. He just left the garage door open and went inside.

  I parked my SUV behind him on the driveway. I wouldn’t be staying, so there was no point in pulling into my spot.

  In an attempt to gather my courage, I sat in the car, battling with the guilt that churned in my stomach. Resentment and bitterness only agitated it. All of it was mixed up with the joy that Christopher’s touch had brought back into my life.

  It was difficult to put my finger on any one emotion, this distorted loyalty at odds with what every part of me wanted to claim as my own.

  I hated hurting Ben. But it was clear I’d come to the crossroads. So yeah, maybe I’d already taken a sharp right-hand turn, and there was no doubt I should have handled things differently. Even then, I was one hundred percent certain that no matter if Christopher had come back to me or not, I still would be in this exact same spot getting ready to do the exact same thing.

  It was time to put an end to what never had been there in the first place.

  Night had fallen, the sky dark and quiet when I climbed from my car and headed inside. At the edge of the front room, I came to a stop when I found Ben standing in the middle of it, facing away while he held on to the back of his neck with both hands.

  I knew he knew I was there, no words spoken, but somehow the silence said it all. Hostility ate up all the air in the room, leaving us flailing in this limbo that pushed against my resolve.

  “Ben,” I chanced, taking a step forward, his name sliding off my tongue like an apology.

  He whipped his head around, brown eyes hardened with anger. “Are you trying to make me out to be a fool?”

  Caught off guard, I stumbled
back. “I…”

  What could I say?

  “I’m sorry.” It held a finality Ben clearly didn’t want to hear.

  He spun all the way around, his head cocked to the side as he slowly approached.

  My heart rate ratcheted up by a hundred knots when he released a maniacal laugh. “You’re sorry? That’s it? You’re sorry?” He laughed again, this time incredulous. “All these years, I’ve protected you. Taken care of you. And this is the thanks I get? You making me look like an idiot in front of our families? You think they couldn’t tell you were acting like an ungrateful bitch?”

  Anger ate up my insides, and I flung my hand in his direction. The cut of the diamond glinted off the lights. “Is that what you think this is? Protecting me?” Fisting my hand at my side, I shook my head. “This isn’t love or protection, Ben. This is you trying to force me into what you want. Did you forget our dinner last week? I told you I wasn’t ready.” I blinked across at him, hoping he’d understand I’d never be ready, and I lowered my voice. “I don’t want this. I’m sorry, but I don’t want this.”

  But my softened tone did nothing to calm him.

  “You mean you don’t want me.” He scoffed, his hands propped on his hips as he swore toward the floor. Then he redirected his disgust back to me. “What is it you think you want to move on to, Samantha? Someone who doesn’t give a shit about you? Are you so ignorant that you don’t see what else is out there waiting for you?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut against the assault.

  Wow. So I knew he could be a jerk. This might have been the first time I realized he was a straight-up asshole.

  He didn’t stop or hesitate, just spat more of his contempt at me. He sneered. “Ever since you ran into that Moore bitch, you’ve been acting crazy. Did you let her fill your head with lies? With stupid, foolish ideas?” He inched closer, tilting his head with each step. “Did you see him? Is that what this is about?”

  He stood up taller, intimidating, with the intention of making me feel small. “All these years, I’ve protected you. Do you know what from? From assholes like him. You want to know what the real world is like, Samantha? You want to know what guys like Christopher Moore do when you’re not watching?”

  Ben almost smiled. “He wasn’t just sleeping with Jasmine behind your back. I could never bring myself to tell you before, but I think it’s time you knew. Every party, Samantha… every party and he was fucking someone else. Long before your parents even found out about the two of you, back when you had some little girl’s fantasy that you’d found your soul mate. He had you so unsuspecting you never even picked up on what was right under your nose.”