Bend, Don't Break

by Skye Callahan

  A cat, I thought, mentally laughing at the irony.

  “There’s my little hobo,” Rose mumbled. “I’ve been—I wanted to pretend that none of that was me. It was all Silver, and she’s gone now.”

  She broke my grasp and turned to face me. “I was pissed at you for disappearing, but if I cut off Silver and let her die, then nothing exists between you and me.”

  I pushed back her hair, letting my fingers glide through the soft strands. Her hair smelled so much different now—she smelled different. And hell if it wasn’t even more intoxicating than the alcohol I’d downed at the bar.

  Listening to the words come out of her mouth, I knew it was the same problem I’d been bashing my head against every day. It had begun long before the bullet tore through my side. I knew one day I’d have to face letting her walk away if Silver and Kirk were no longer meant to be. “It’s impossible to make it so black and white. You survived. We survived together. And as much as I’d like to erase some things. It’ll always be part of us. We both have a lot of work to do. We can’t exactly pick up where we left off and we can’t just forget what happened.”

  “What happened to shedding it all away or smothering?”

  Maybe the problem was that we were trying to shed too much—trying to shed the wrong things. It was impossible—seemed impossible to think that any good could have come out of that situation.

  I didn’t want to be thankful that she’d landed in that situation. “It takes time.” I tucked her back against my chest—not wanting to ever let her go again. “And work. And maybe something to work toward.”

  “Together?” Her question a quiet whispered breath that brushed against my chest.

  “You sure you want to try that?” I asked, praying for a yes.

  “Yes. But I don’t want you to do it for me.”

  “Good.” Together... we agreed, but what had I gotten myself into? She was going to turn me into a ruined man—even if it were for the best. And even if I enjoyed every moment of it. “But, maybe we should work on becoming friends first.”

  She grunted and wriggled to look up at me. “I assume that means no sex,” she sighed, the traces of a pout drawing down her features. “Anything else?”

  Anything else? Didn’t she know she was already fucking me in every other way possible? I couldn’t look at her eyes, so I drew my gaze away from her face, drawing my fingers through her hair again. “We stop apologizing about anything that happened and try to act like it didn’t happen.”

  “Easier said than done. You might have to remind me a time or two, but I can handle that.”

  I laughed, and the vibrations moved through my chest, reorganizing every nerve and muscle until they fell back into place—finally right where they were supposed to be. Even my mind finally stopped racing. “If I only have to remind you a time or two, I’ll be worried.”

  She twisted around, returning my smile for several long seconds, and I drank in every moment of it. “Does no sex include sleeping in the same bed?”

  “If you want me to stay, I’ll sleep down here. We’re both tired, and even I can only resist so much.” I kissed her neck, inhaling her scent.

  “Yeah, do that again, and I’ll make it much harder.”

  “Go to bed, Rose. You’re exhausted and so am I. We’ll talk more—” I had no idea what time it was, but I glanced toward the window already lightened by the breaking dawn. It was a good thing I was forbidden from coming into work. “We’ll talk more this afternoon.”

  Chapter 11

  Fighting Stubborn with Stubborn

  “Stop,” Rose choked out, as her face reddened. The result of my hand locked around her throat holding her down in the bed.

  I wanted to stop, begged my body for control, but all I could do was stare down into her green eyes as she gasped and clawed at my arm.

  A knock jerked me out of the nightmare and it took me a moment to recognize the room. I was getting tired of being woken up in such a manner, but I’d take it any day over waking up at the Retreat again. That happened enough in my dreams.

  I peeked through the living room window, overlooking the porch, and the family resemblance of the girl standing outside the door was unmistakable. She held a baby carrier in her right hand and had a slightly more curvy build than Rose—which made sense given the young child. She also had the same facial structure and similar, but shorter hair.

  Rose’s hurried footsteps moved down the stairs as the knock sounded again. When I heard the front door open, I stepped into the opening that led from the living room to the foyer and received a long and accessing stare from Rose’s sister.

  “Is that your protective detail?” she asked.

  Rose’s cheeks were pink when she turned to look at me. “Chey, this is K—”

  At least I wasn’t the only one screwing that up.

  “—James. James, my sister Chey and her daughter Laney.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, as the girls descended into what was unmistakably a quiet sibling teasing session. I leaned against the wall as they chided each other with hushed voices. Apparently, all had worked out between them, just as I’d predicted.

  Watching them together reminded me of my own sister—even when she was sick we could have rivalries that would shake the walls. We pestered each other into fights for the hell of it. Time never made that loss easier.

  I left the girls to their chatter so I could slip on my T-shirt and shoes. Rose and I had plenty to discuss, but I was sure she also wanted family time. And at the moment, the two didn’t mix.

  “You don’t have to leave,” Rose said, catching me in the doorway while her sister settled on the couch with the baby.

  “You should spend time with your family, we can talk anytime,” I leaned in for a kiss but she pressed her lips into a line and drew back.

  “At least stay for lunch.”

  Lunch, I laughed, imagining that could only consist of delivery or burned frozen pizzas. “You cooking?”

  She crossed her arms and smirked. “I’ve gotten damn good at spaghetti.”

  “Uh huh. Without burning it?”

  Chey gasped. “So, this totally wasn’t a one-night stand!” she said with a giddy smile.

  Rose’s face, on the other hand, went slack and bright red as she tried to cover it with her hand. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Come on,” her sister laughed. “Just kidding. I’ll be good.”

  She might be good, but I wasn’t going for it. I still enjoyed that shocked expression and the red tints of blush that touched Rose’s forehead and cheeks. And I intended to get as much out of it as possible while I had the opportunity.

  I grabbed her hips, pulling her against me before she could object. Her eyes widened even more as her hand dropped to my shoulder, and our lips met.

  I may have sworn off having sex with her, but I wasn’t a total masochist. “How about I go pick up something to eat. You two can do the sister thing, and then we’ll all have lunch.”

  She nodded, but her lips scrunched, in what I assumed to be feigned disapproval, since she hadn’t seemed to mind the kiss. Not waiting for a response, I headed for the front door, with Rose following behind. As soon as we were out of Chey’s sight, she smacked me in the arm.

  “You’re violent today,” I whispered. “Are you sure you want me here? Or is there a reason—”

  “I want to spend time with you. We’re supposed to be moving on, right? I just....” Her eyes flickered as she lost her way in the sea of thoughts.

  I reached for her jawline, pulling her back to me and tracing my thumb gently over her lips. “I’ll be back.”

  On the way out to the car, I checked my phone and was shocked that I didn’t have half a dozen missed messages since I’d snuck out of Evan’s house in the middle of the night. Guess I skipped that natural step in growing up as a teenager, so why not tackle it now?

  I hadn’t stuck around long enough to ask what anyone wanted so I headed over to the dairy ba
r that Katie managed to pick up some basics—hamburgers, fries, and shakes sounded like a damn good decision to me.

  Katie’s gaze fell on me as soon as I stepped out of my car, and she waved me over to the side window. “I was hoping you’d turn up.”

  “I had an emergency.” I leaned against the tiny counter that jutted out from the window. “You might have been right.”

  She smirked and wiggled her eyebrows.

  “You don’t need to give me that look.”

  “Um, yes. Yes, I totally need to give you that look.” Her taunting face turned into a gentle and hesitant smile. “Is she okay?”

  I nodded, not really committed to the answer. “We’re working on it.”

  “That’s a start,” she plopped an order pad on the counter. “What can I get you?”

  Sometimes, I imagined what my sister would have been like now, and usually that image ended up a lot like Katie—minus the blonde hair. The two of them probably would have gotten along pretty well, and made a team at torturing me.

  “A trio of burgers, fries, and shakes?” I said.

  “There something I don’t know about your girlfriend?”

  I leaned toward the window as if I had a secret and whispered, “Her sister is with her.”

  But my little trick didn’t diminish her enthusiasm at all. “Oooh, meeting the family.”

  I groaned and scraped the bottom of my shoe against the brick wall under the window. “Can I just get the food, please?”

  “What flavor would you like the shakes?”

  I thought of Miles. “Chocolate.”

  Chocolate fixes everything.

  “Of course. Give me ten.”

  I took a seat at one of the picnic tables and watched the group of kids playing putt-putt while I waited. One of the mothers—probably barely older than me—glared at my uncovered tattoos, but when I smiled and tipped my head, she promptly spun around.

  “Come on, trouble,” Katie called, sitting the bag of food and drink carrier on the counter. “Food for your lucky girl.”

  I flipped a twenty and a ten on the counter and grabbed my order. “Thanks, Kate.”

  We all sat around Rose’s small kitchen table to eat, with Laney taking up most of the table space, cooing and waving while we chowed down.

  As we were clearing up, Chey excused herself to the bathroom—much to Rose’s shock and dismay at being left alone with the baby.

  And I thought I was bad.

  The worry wasn’t entirely unwarranted, however, because as soon as Mommy was out of sight, baby started to fuss.

  “Know anything about babies?” Rose asked, looking at the kid like she’d just turned magenta and sprouted a second head.

  I grunted, trying to hold back a laugh. “They like being held.”

  “I’ll get right on that.” She pointed to her shoulder.

  I had to give her that one, even though it that put an end to my fun. I shook my head and lifted Laney out of the carrier, snuggling the little bundle of unpredictability against my shoulder. She whined a bit, and I suspected wiped her nose on my shirt, but I managed to fish the pacifier out of the carrier and popped it into her mouth.

  We once again had a quiet baby.

  “Show off,” Rose said, with an attractive growl to her voice. Flustered was also a good look for her.

  When Chey popped back in she laughed, and rescued the poor kid from my grasp. “You really did pass her off to him.”

  “Bullet hole in the arm, people. What the heck am I going to do?”

  “Excuses.” With a roll of her eyes, Chey loaded Laney back into the carrier and strapped her in, giving her sides a tickle before she put up the handle. “I better get going. Don’t forget you promised to go dress shopping with me.”

  I zoned out, clearing the rest of the table as the sisters said their goodbyes and waiting for the moment when Chey and the baby were out of sight. I drew Rose against me, finally indulging in the touch I’d been craving all morning. She latched her uninjured arm around my neck, staring up at me with her wide green eyes.

  “I told you everything would be fine with you two,” I said, but the moment clouded and nearly disappeared just as quickly, as I glanced toward the door as the nightmare crept back into my conscience. “I should get going too.”

  My fingers brushed through her hair, but all I could see was the image from the dream of holding her down, my hands wrapped around her neck. I wasn’t sure where the exact images came from—but it made my fear of hurting her even more of a harsh reality. Maybe it hadn’t actually happened, but I still felt in my gut like it had.

  “How are you?” she asked.

  “I’m here. And I’m alive, thanks to you, but....” My insides had shifted again until I didn’t feel like my skin fit again. “Are you really sure you want me around, after everything I did to you?”

  “Yes, James. I already forgave you.”

  “How?” I squinted at her. I’d taken everything—her dignity, trust, hatred, fear, hope.... “Every time I get close....”

  She pressed against me, laying her cheek against my chest. “It wasn’t so hard actually. You told me that my only choice was to give up control or die, but it applied to you, too. And unless you played your part, we both died. Once I started seeing the real you, the emotion and regret you tried to hide, I didn’t have it in me to hate you for something you obviously hated, too.”

  “You’re a strong woman, Sugar.”

  Her lips curled up when I used the name again. I didn’t completely understand it—my own desire to continue using it, or her encouraging reaction every time.

  “Stronger than I was a few months ago. It still hurts, every day it still hurts, and after the last two days... I just want something good to hold onto.”

  I stretched my hands against her back, wanting contact with as much of her as possible. “It’s going to take a lot of work.”

  “We’ve already escaped hell, I don’t think ‘work’ is going to stop us,” she said, reaching up to kiss me.

  I wanted to get lost in that moment. To believe in those words, and forgive myself, but no matter what she said, I didn’t believe that task could be so easy.

  When she backed away, I smiled—forced and unnatural, it was the only thing I had. “What was this ‘dress shopping’ you and your sister were talking about.”

  Her shoulders drooped. There was no way to hide that I was pushing the subject away from me—away from anything she wanted to talk about.

  “She and Peter are getting married in four months. She asked me to be in the wedding.”

  Peter—I remembered from one of our awkward, pain-induced chats that Peter was somehow the epicenter of Rose’s fight with her sister. “And you’re okay with that?”

  She squinted, pulling her injured arm tighter against her chest and rubbing the muscle beneath the injury. “I’m not fond of glamming up in fancy dresses, but I guess this’ll be an exception. Hopefully, I don’t have to wear a sleeveless though.”

  “You’ll be all healed up by then.” I couldn’t tell if she, too was playing the avoidance game, so the next time I didn’t give her an out. “Wasn’t Peter the reason you two were fighting?”

  “Sort of—it’s a bit more complicated than that—not just that I had a crush...,” she grimaced again, closing her eyes. “I had a crush and yet she was the one to get him, and sometimes she treated him like crap. Like she didn’t want to settle down, didn’t want to grow up.”

  I watched her wince, pain written on every movement, even though she tried to pass it off. “You have pain medicine?”

  “Been taking Tylenol, but I swear it’s getting worse.” She dropped into a chair, looking like she was about to do more than double over.

  “The swelling should be going down, and you’ll regain sensitivity. They didn’t give you anything stronger than Tylenol—something that would help with the swelling, too.”

  She peeked up at me without raising her head. “I didn’t get the prescrip
tion. I don’t like—”

  “I know, sweetie.” I beyond knew, I understood exactly how she felt, but I couldn’t sit around and watch her in pain. “I can go pick up your prescription.”

  She shot to her feet, wincing again. “No.”

  “Then, where do you keep the Tylenol?” I sighed. I was helpless to argue, and it had to be better than nothing.

  “Left it upstairs.” She choked, stumbling back toward the counter, still cradling her arm.

  “Sweetie,” I lifted her face. Seeing her cry, even if not by my doing, was devastating to the slice of sanity I’d managed to preserve through the night. “I think you’re going to need something a little stronger while it’s healing.”

  “I can manage—it’s usually just a dull roar.” Her voice held the edge of a growl as pain and anger clashed within her.

  “Until you move. Your body is trying to heal, and it’s going to be rough for a while.” I was amazed she lasted the last two days without anything stronger—but not entirely surprised given all that I’d seen her survive. I had refused meds when I got home, too, but I’d still had them for a week in the hospital.

  “I know.” She sighed, lacing her fingers through mine. “I don’t want you to leave, yet. I just got you back.”

  I kissed her forehead, in misery because I couldn’t draw away the pain—emotional as well as physical.

  Some of it, I’d caused myself. I feared I’d never escape the onslaught of “what ifs” that dragged me backward, never letting me free, like a pool of quicksand. Every step, took me deeper, with new worries that neither of us could ever recover.

  What if I’d gotten her out sooner?

  What if I’d told her the truth earlier?

  What if I hadn’t left her alone for the past five weeks?

  “I’ll call Trent and have him pick it up. Where’s your script?”

  “Trent made me drop it off. I just never went back to pick it up.”

  She wasn’t so different from the girl I’d gotten to know through all of the insults and debauchery. “Stubborn as ever.”

  “Look who’s talking. You could just take my mind off—” she dropped her head and turned away.