Captured Love

by Juliana Haygert

  I had been too young, too blind, too innocent. If I could, I would have skipped my teenage years. All of them. Nothing good happened until I went to live with my grandma. There, at my new high school, nobody knew me, nobody knew my past, and I was able to start over, to be someone else, someone stronger, wiser.

  I wish I had been stronger and wiser before. Maybe then, things would have been different.

  Did it really matter? I had already admitted to myself that I wouldn’t have done anything different, so why lie to myself? Yes, there were days I wanted to change the past, there were days I wanted to forget, but deep down I knew it didn’t matter. If I could go back in time, I would have done everything the same, down to my last mistake.

  I just wished Ryan had done things differently. I wished my papa had done things differently too. Which was selfish. Ryan and Papa were guilty, but so was I.

  Drowning in my thoughts, I startled when a car cut its lights in the parking spot behind the plaza. I didn’t notice it was dark already, and I didn’t even see it arriving.

  Not in the mood to be found, by strangers or not, I squirmed closer to the tree, hoping the shadows would hide me.

  The person skulked to the plaza, kicking some loose stones, hands buried inside jean pockets. I noticed, by the larger frame, it was a man, wearing a black baseball cap that covered his head. When he stepped into the plaza and looked at the fountain, I recognized that strong chin and that chiseled jaw.

  My heart skipped a beat before hammering against my ribs.

  Trying to be sneaky, I crawled backward, reaching for the tree trunk. I wanted to retreat, hide behind the tree, and tiptoe back to my car before he could even suspect he wasn’t alone in the plaza.

  Instead, my foot rolled over a loose stone and I slipped, hitting my head and back hard on the cement ground. I let out a raw yelp and pressed my eyes shut as if the action would send the pain away.

  “Jessica?” Ryan asked. The sound of his rushed footsteps approached me. His hands closed around my upper arms, and he pulled me to sit up. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  I rubbed the back of my head. It hurt so much that it had to be bleeding, but when I spied my fingers, there wasn’t any blood on them. The world revolved around me, and I closed my eyes again.

  “Jess, talk to me. Are you okay?”

  I shook my head, but that rattled my brain loose inside my skull, and I cringed.

  Ryan felt my head with gentle fingers. “It’s going to bruise, but it’s not that bad.”

  Jesus, this was great. All I wanted was to avoid him, and here we were, together and alone in the square that held too many memories to count. On top of that, I wore simple attire, had no makeup on, had just made a fool of myself, and was now sprawled on the ground, unladylike.

  Irritated and embarrassed, I grunted. “You say that because it’s not your head hurting.”

  He chuckled and my eyes shot open, even with the pain it brought. His gaze met mine, and his grin died. His lips pressed together and his jaw ticked.

  Realizing he was still holding me, Ryan jumped up and retreated a few steps. “What are you doing here?”

  With the warmth of his hands gone, a cold trail swept over my skin. What the hell? It was over ninety degrees. At night!

  “I could ask you the same thing.” I wanted to stand, but I didn’t think it was a good idea yet. So, I just crossed my legs and took a deep breath, willing the pain away. “This was the last place I thought I would see you. Actually, I was quite sure you would be at the motorcycle thing.”

  He looked at the ground and shook his head. “I don’t go to bike shows.”

  I frowned and that brought new pain to my head. “That’s what the girls said.”

  Quietly, he turned to the fountain again, his gaze distant.

  Even hurt, it was hard not to noticed he hadn’t changed that much. His face was still of a bad boy, his gaze was still breathtaking, and his body was still ripped.

  But he had changed. He was more ripped now, evident in the way his green T-shirt hugged his torso and arms and exposed the muscles underneath. He had new tattoos on his lower arms and on his neck, and only God, and the women he slept with, knew where else. But he looked much more serious now, and sad.

  Fighting the pain and the dizzy spell that overtook me, I stood. “What happened to you?”

  He gave me a quick glance over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re different.”

  He shrugged, his eyes on the water. “People change.”

  Most people changed, but Ryan wasn’t one of them.

  I should run away and stay as far away from him as I could, but something nagged at me, some heavy feeling expanded in my chest, and I knew something had happened to him, even if he was trying to pretend nothing had. And I wanted to know what that something was.

  I took a step forward, standing beside him, but still several feet away. “So … why aren’t you at the bike show?”

  He looked down again and sighed. “Don’t do this, Jessica. Don’t pretend you care when I know you don’t. And you know what?” He turned to me, his eyes hard and cruel. “I don’t want you to.”

  I gasped, totally taken aback by the coldness of his stare. He had never, ever looked at me that way.

  Before I could recover and snap at him, he spun around and marched toward his Mustang.

  Ryan halted. “Shit,” he muttered.

  I followed his gaze. To his right, a cop walked down the path to the plaza.

  “Mr. Dawson,” the cop said, his hands in his pockets. “Do you know what time it is?”

  Ryan grunted. “Yes.”

  “Did you forget about your curfew?”

  Curfew? What was he talking about?

  “No, Officer Mike. I just got caught up.”

  I took two steps to the side, so I could look at the cop, and found him staring at me with interest.

  “Oh, I see,” the cop said. “Are you trying to get in trouble again?”

  “No.” Ryan’s jaw and shoulders were hard.

  “Then you should stay away from her,” the cop said.

  “What?” I squealed.

  “I know.” Ryan fished his car keys from his pockets. “It was an accident. She was here when I arrived and I was just leaving.”

  “I see.” The cop glanced at me again, a frown between his brows. “Then I’ll escort you home.”

  Without saying another word or looking back at me, Ryan continued to his car, the cop on his heels.

  Ryan drove away, and the cop, in his police car, followed him down Main Street.

  My knees wobbled, and I almost fell on the ground again.

  What had just happened?

  Without wasting time, I drove home, relieved to see Jason’s bike in the driveway.

  I found him in the kitchen, eating a piece of apple pie, with Luna circling his legs, asking for some.

  He smiled when he saw me. “Hey. Are you okay? I confess I panicked a little when I got home a few minutes ago and didn’t see the truck.”

  “What happened to Ryan?” I blurted, and his eyes widened. “He doesn’t go to bike shows anymore, and I just saw a cop escort him home, talking about curfew.”

  “Shit,” he whispered, setting the plate on the countertop.

  “No, don’t shit me. If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out some other way.”

  He took a deep breath. “Listen, Jess, I’m not sure I’m the one who should be talking about this. It’s his problem; it’s his thing. If you want to know so badly, I think you should ask him.”

  I sat down at one of the kitchen chairs. “I kinda did.”

  “And?”

  I tapped my fingers on the table. “He was pretty mean. He told me not to pretend I care.”

  Jason sat beside me, the shine in his eyes hesitant. “Do you care?”

  I averted my eyes, not sure about the answer. “I hate him. I hate what he did to me. But I’m not a bad person, and I don’t wish anyone to
go through what I did, or rot in hell, or whatever. Not even him.”

  My brother patted my hand. “I’m sure he wishes you well too.”

  I didn’t doubt him. After all, he was Ryan’s best friend, and I knew they told each other everything. But that wasn’t the real question. “Why? Why would he wish me well now? He certainly didn’t four years ago.”

  “Almost four years ago,” Jason corrected me. “I can’t answer that either, Jess. I still think that, if you want answers, you gotta go straight to the source.”

  He stood, and I stepped in his way before he could leave the kitchen.

  “Hey, you’re my brother. You’re supposed to help me, to defend me. Something you didn’t do four years ago!”

  The hurt that took over his expression tugged at my heart. Damn, if only I could take my words back.

  He reached up and cupped my cheek. “Jess, we can’t change the past, and I’m sorry for that. You know I’m truly sorry. I’m not telling you his shit because it’s my way of helping you, defending you. Forget about it. But if you can’t, go ask him.”

  “I can’t … I can’t just walk up to him and ask him whatever this is. He pushed me away, remember? I was—am—nothing to him. Why would he want me to tell me anything?”

  “See, you know nothing about nothing. And that’s why I think you should go talk to him. You two need to put the past in the past. I think you’ll only be able to do it after talking and resolving your problems. Together.”

  I gaped at him. “You’re crazy.” I was nothing to Ryan. Why would he need me to put his past behind him? What had he done? Slept with a demon? I couldn’t help him with that. I couldn’t help him with anything. “He probably didn’t spend one second thinking about me after I left.”

  A sad smile took over my brother’s lips. “You’re so, so wrong, sis. And that’s all I’m gonna say. You want to know more, go talk to him.” He kissed my forehead. “Goodnight.”

  He left the kitchen, and I sank down in the chair, tired, as if I had fought a battle.

  Chapter Ten

  Jessica

  Besides my curiosity, I didn’t give in and didn’t look for Ryan. The weakness I had shown at the square, by trying to talk to him, had been just that. A momentary weakness. And it would never happen again.

  Though bumping into him at the hospital on a Tuesday afternoon caught me by surprise.

  I literally bumped into him when I stepped out of Papa’s room.

  He held my elbows, so I wouldn’t fall.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, his hazel eyes fixed on mine.

  I stepped back, leaving his grip. “It’s okay.”

  He glanced at the door, and a knot appeared between his brows. “How is your father?”

  “The same.”

  Jason left Papa’s room two seconds later. “Hey, man, what are you doing here?”

  They clasped hands in that brotherly manner guys always did.

  Ryan pointed his chin to the end of the hallway. “Brought a guy who cut his leg down at the site.” He glanced at his watch. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

  “Yeah, but we gotta a call saying Dad was conscious. I left class, Mom left a pan on the stove, Jess left work, but we didn’t get here in time. He’s sleeping, as usual.”

  Ryan pointed to the elevator. “I should go back to …” He peeked at me again and didn’t finish his sentence.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Jason bumped his fist on Ryan’s. “I’ll call you later.”

  Ryan nodded and, sparing me only a half-second glance, hurried away.

  When Ryan disappeared inside the elevator, Jason turned to me. “You didn’t talk to him yet.”

  “I don’t want to talk to him.” It was a lie I wasn’t willing to admit to myself, but I knew it was a lie anyway. “I have nothing to talk to him about. Besides, did you see the way he ignored me? I told you I was nothing to him.”

  Jason shook his head. “You two still act like teenagers.” He looked through the small door window and sighed. “These summer classes are killing me, but I need to go back. Can you please make sure Mom doesn’t spend all afternoon here, watching him sleep?”

  I nodded and received a kiss on the forehead.

  I watched as my brother walked down the hall and took the stairs out. I couldn’t help but glance at the elevator again, and berated myself when I caught my mind wishing for the doors to open and Ryan to walk out of it.

  The more I tried to avoid him, or thinking about him, the worse it was. Soon, I would be longing for him, even knowing and still feeling all the pain he had caused me.

  Jesus, I hated admitting it, but I was so not over him.

  ***

  Ryan

  I cut the engine of my car and looked out the window at my parents’ house. If I could, I would have ignored my mother’s invitation to dine with them. But I couldn’t. I shouldn’t.

  Bumping into Jessica at the hospital had already set my day off. I hoped the dinner wouldn’t make it worse.

  I entered the house with my keys and found my father lounging before the TV, a beer in his hand, and my brother in the dining room, his cell phone pressed to his ear. I didn’t bother saying hello to them, and walked in, down the hall, and into the kitchen where my mother was chopping vegetables and my sister was doing her homework at the kitchen’s island.

  “Hi, Ryan!” Brianna said, her tone cheery. She was growing up too fast and becoming a beautiful young woman. She was sixteen, the same age Jessica had been when the mess started.

  “Hey, B.” I planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “How’s school?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Boring.”

  I smiled, and then looked at my mother. “Hi, Mom.”

  “How are you, dear?” she asked, setting the knife down.

  “Okay,” I said, averting my eyes.

  I looked at my sister again. It was hard to look at her and not think of all the things that happened with Jessica. If a punk got close to my sister and did all the shit I had done, that punk would be dead before he could blink. I was sure Jason had wanted to kill me, but didn’t because of all the rest that happened afterward.

  I sighed and grabbed a Coke from the fridge.

  My mother grabbed a pot from under the counter. “Bri, why don’t you go set the table?”

  Brianna made a face, but stood and left for the dining room.

  “Now are you going to tell me how you really are?” my mother asked.

  I leaned against the fridge and sipped my Coke. “I’m okay, Mom, really. As okay as I can be.”

  “I don’t like when you talk like that.”

  “Like what? The truth? My life is a mess and everyone knows it.”

  My mother frowned. “Does this more irritated mood have something to do with Jessica Hayes being back in town?”

  Shit. Of course, I didn’t expect my parents to stay oblivious to her return. After all, the town wasn’t that large and people talked, but I had hoped it would take a little more time.

  “What are you going to do, dear?” She placed the vegetables inside the pot and turned to me. “Are you going to talk her?” Her eyes widened. “You already did.”

  “No,” I snapped. “I’ve bumped into her once or twice, but we didn’t talk. I don’t want to talk to her. You know what? I don’t want to talk about her either.”

  I marched out of the kitchen and went to the dining room to help my sister.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, setting the last plate in its place. “I was the one who told Mom and Dad about Jessica being back.”

  I glared at her. “What?”

  “Sorry.” She retreated to the wall, though the table was between us. “I didn’t think much of it. Lindsey told me and I was just talking about my day. It came out, and a second later, they were arguing about it.”

  “Shit,” I muttered. Another thing I had forgotten. Lindsey, Jessica’s cousin, was Brianna’s best friend. Damn, things were getting way too complicated for me.

  “So
rry,” she said again, her voice small with fear.

  I stared at her, backed against the wall, visibly scared of me. What had I become? Even my sister was afraid of me.

  I took a deep breath. “That’s okay, B. They would have found out sooner or later.”

  She seemed to relax a little. “And … how are you about it?”

  “Honestly, I’m trying not to think about it, but everyone keeps asking. It’s kinda hard.”

  “Sorry.”

  This time, I offered her a small smile. “That’s okay.” I glanced around. “Where’s Tommy? He was here when I arrived.”

  “Oh, he left when I came in.” She pointed to the door leading to the living room. “You know how it is. He and his secret phone calls.”

  Which were not so secret. I knew what my brother was up to and I didn’t like. Despite all that had happened to me and all the conversations we had, Tommy was becoming the next Ryan. My younger brother was nineteen, the age I was when everything exploded around me.

  “Ryan!” My father’s voice boomed from the other room, and I sighed.

  I dragged my feet to the living room. “Hi, Dad.”

  My father placed the empty beer bottle on the end table beside his leather armchair, and stared at me, his brown eyes hard. “You’re not gonna lose your head again because that girl is back in town, are you?”

  I closed my eyes for a second, willing myself to stay calm. “Can we not talk about that right now?”

  My father stood, stuffing his chest. “Why not?”

  I shook my head, tired of arguing with my family. “Please, Dad, I’m not—”

  The doorbell rang.

  Frowning, my father spied through the window. “It’s Officer Mike.” He turned to me, his eyes shining with rage. “What have you done this time?”

  I groaned. “Nothing.”

  We marched to the foyer, where my mother was opening the door. “Good evening, Officer Mike, how can we help you?”

  Mike spied inside and his eyes settled on mine. “Good evening, Mrs. Dawson. I’m just checking on our boy, seeing if he’s following through with his schedules and curfews.”

  “Here I am, Mike.” I stepped to the door. “You’ve seen me; now you can go.”