The Not-Outcast

by Tijan

  My throat was swelling up again. “He told Chad and Deek this, too?”

  She nodded. “Not at the time, but he talked about it more with my husband and me, and he seemed as if he were coming to a decision. I know he has reached out to both and told them this decision, but that’s not why I’m here. I had been planning on reaching out before Hunter made that declaration, but also before we got the invitation for the event tonight. I—well, the mother in me is ashamed when I think about it. My husband has a heart condition, and we didn’t get good news the other week. I think that, more than anything else, hastened this meeting. Life is short, and we don’t know when we may lose people we love.”

  My damn throat. It was still swelling, and I was someone who mostly lived in my head.

  Her words were making me feel things.

  “You mentioned a file?”

  “Yes.” Her cheeks reddened. “That was the moment I realized how my nonaction was coming across. My husband grew alarmed when he noticed that I was never encouraging Hunter to reach out to his sister, so he hired a private investigator.”

  A P.I.?

  I knew these people used to think I was a criminal, but to actually hire an investigator?

  Natalie kept on, “I was stunned, not what I read inside, but that he had hired someone to look into you. You have deserved nothing for how you have been treated. Your mother was very sick, and had been for a long time, but I didn’t look at you as a child needing love. I was scared. I didn’t think I could handle what you might be bringing into my home, and my instincts kicked in to protect Chad and Hunter. In all that time, I never thought that I was hurting a child needing help, that perhaps you had been brought to us for a reason. I turned my back on you, and I’m very sorry for that.”

  This was a lot.

  I was feeling itchy all over, and restless, and my thoughts were almost breaking my barrier. If that happened, I’d be flooded with so much stimulus and information that I’d have to call for a ride home. I wouldn’t be able to endure coming back for the evening.

  I didn’t do my run this morning, or yoga.

  I wanted to sleep another hour in Cut’s arms and I was kicking myself, but this—who could’ve been prepared for this to happen?

  “It’s fine. I went to my uncle’s.”

  “Cheyenne.” She scooted to the edge of her seat, leaning forward. She placed her hand on my desk. “You are a very kind and resilient young woman. You are intelligent. You are funny. You are caring. I can always tell when Hunter’s read one of your emails. His smile is bigger, and he laughs louder. He’s happier. You make him happier.” She looked down, closing her eyes for a beat. “And I read that file and I’m amazed at the things you’ve done, and this place, this place is amazing. You started this place. I’m very proud to say that you’re Hunter’s sister, and I’d love it if we could form a relationship moving forward? If that is something you'd be interested in?” She paused, sensing my unease, as she then said, “But I will understand if the past is too painful for you. Either way, I want to apologize, and I am hoping that you and Hunter can do more things together. He really adores you.”

  My forehead was itching.

  I kept rubbing at it, over and over again.

  This didn’t happen to people like me.

  People like me, we were messed up and we were scorned, and we were judged. We knew our place. I knew my place. Cut had been chipping at that wall, but her being here, apologizing, saying all these things to me, and I was struggling with my brain getting away from me.

  “Cheyenne?”

  Panic was rising up in me, taking over, clogging my veins. It was moving into my throat. It was going to close up my throat and I wouldn’t be able to breathe.

  “You need to go. Now.” My ears were starting to pound.

  I couldn’t distinguish my own voice or the normal volume.

  I might’ve been yelling for all I knew. “Now. You gotta go.”

  “Cheyenne.” She pushed up from her chair and was coming around to my side. “What is it? What did I say—”

  The door was pushed open, and Reba was there. “What’s going on in here?”

  “I—” Natalie’s voice broke. I think that was her? I couldn’t tell.

  My skin was crawling. I felt like there were ticks everywhere and I needed to wash them off of me.

  “I was trying to apologize for something.”

  “Apologize?” Reba pushed her way in my office, shutting the door behind her. “For what? Who are you? How do you know Cheyenne?”

  My head was pounding. I reached for my phone, dropping it a few times, and I managed a text to Cut. He’d be done with his practice for the day.

  Me: I need you. Come Our Way.

  Natalie was speaking over my head, “...Hunter is my son. I only had the best intentions. I swear. I didn’t mean to upset her in any way. I’m trying to make up for the past.”

  “Cheyenne. Honey.” Reba was at my side.

  Natalie had moved so she was behind the chairs.

  When had that happened?

  Reba was looking at my phone. “You need me to call someone?”

  “Cut—Cut is coming.”

  I stuttered. I couldn’t talk now?

  “You’re having a panic attack?” Natalie was asking me, sounding panicked herself.

  No shit. I hated these things. Another thing wrong with me, Natalie.

  Natalie wouldn’t want me around Hunter now, now that she was seeing this. She’d take back all the nice and wonderful things she said.

  Horror clamped down on me, stifling me.

  “Okay.” Reba’s take-charge voice was coming out. “It was really nice that you came and apologized to Cheyenne, but as you can see, I think you triggered some old anxiety in her.”

  “I don’t want to leave her like this. I feel awful.”

  “Ma’am, I think it’s best if you go. Cheyenne is kind and forgiving. I feel comfortable enough to speak for her that she’s already feeling worse about this than you do. She’ll reach out. Give her some time.”

  My phone buzzed back.

  Cut: Outside. I was already close.

  Me: Coming out. Stay there.

  I showed Reba the phone and she helped me shut everything down. The computer. I needed my keys. My purse.

  Natalie watched us, standing back, with her hand to her throat. “I feel so bad. I’m so sorry, Cheyenne. I didn't mean for any of this to happen.”

  I was fucked in the head. What’d she think would happen?

  But I couldn’t talk. It was taking so much of my energy to focus and make sure I had everything before I left. Reba went to the door, a hand behind Natalie to urge her out. Their heads were bent together, and I knew Reba was smoothing things over for me.

  I grabbed my phone and was locking my office door when I heard Dean’s voice.

  “Mrs. Carroews! Hello. Are you early for the event tonight?”

  I beat a hasty escape, going to the back door and hoping Cut would go back there. It’s where he dropped me off, and as soon I was out the door, I was so grateful to see him.

  He took one look at me and hit his AC on full blast. Sometimes focusing on that helped settle me.

  I shut my door, and he didn’t say a word. He was driving down the side alley that led from our back parking lot to the street, and he paused before turning.

  I looked up.

  Natalie was right there. With Dean. They were coming out from the front door.

  They saw me, then Cut turned toward them. He was focused on the street, so he didn’t see them.

  They saw him.

  51

  Cut

  “I’m okay.” Her first words to me after we drove a few minutes.

  Anxiety wasn’t anything new to me. My little brother had anxiety, so I knew she’d tell me what she needed, which she did. She needed me and we were heading out of there, but after that, I wasn’t going to bug her for details on what happened.

  “You sure?”

/>   She nodded.

  I glanced at her, and she was drawing in a deep breath. Her eyes were closed, but she had some color coming back to her face. That was good.

  “Stress just kicks things off, and I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Wanna talk about what happened?”

  “Natalie came to see me.”

  I almost swerved into the oncoming car. “What? Chad’s mom Natalie?”

  She looked to me, her voice calm. “Hunter’s mom Natalie.”

  “What’d she have to say?”

  Her tone got low. “She apologized to me.”

  My hands tightened over the steering wheel.

  That was a good thing. Wasn’t it?

  “I’m okay. I am. This will pass. I’m just off my cycle because I missed so many days, and I didn’t do my cardio this morning.”

  “You’re sounding clearer.”

  She nodded, but her eyes were still closed. “I’m so sick of this.”

  I liked that she texted that she needed me. I really liked that I was so close, since I did a late lunch with my agent downtown. And her anxiety, I could handle it. Her other stuff, I could handle that, too. But this, with what I was starting to hear from her, I wasn’t getting a good feeling and that, I didn’t like.

  “Sick of what?”

  “This.” She was pointing to her head. “I have to be fucking perfect to maintain. That’s it. I’m just trying to maintain. Then someone walks into my office and says nice things to me and looks at me. I had to text you to come and get me. Fucking pathetic.”

  “Hey! Don’t ever say that. Ever.”

  She quieted, but her voice came out gravelly. “It’s the truth. It’s selfish of me to put you through this. You want to team up with me? Having to come and get me at a moment’s notice? That’s not a relationship. That’s a caretaker. I can’t fix what’s up here, and trust me, I’ve tried. I have to be perfect just to keep my head quiet at times, and that’s not fair to you. You could be with someone normal, someone who can take care of you—”

  “Stop talking.”

  “—and what else? I mean, what if you want to marry me? God forbid. You want this for a whole lifetime? I’ll wear you out within the first two years. Children? You want kids? I can’t have kids. I can’t bring someone into this world and give them what I have. Put someone through the suffering that I endure daily. That would be selfish of me. It’s unbelievably selfish of me not to walk away from you—”

  “Stop it!”

  A fast food parking lot was on our right, and fuck it. I hit the turn signal and made a sharp turn, parking in the first slot I saw.

  I cut the engine and turned on her. “I don’t want to ever hear you say that shit about yourself. And you don’t get to decide for me. I do. I choose. I choose who I want to be with, who I don’t, and I choose you. You. Got it?”

  A tear fell from her eye, tracking down her cheek to her chin.

  Her eyes held mine. I didn’t think she knew it was there, and cursing, I reached over to wipe it away.

  “I love you.” I was holding her face in my hand.

  Her eyes kept glued to mine, and she asked, “Why? Again. Why?”

  I’d never felt this before.

  I felt fury. I felt like I wanted to rip an opponent’s head off. I felt all those emotions when I hit the rink, but off the ice, I wasn’t emotional. Easygoing. Go with the flow. That was me, but not with her. Since that first party, and I just fell harder and harder each time she stripped herself down for me.

  “Why?” I repeated her question. Had I heard that right?

  A second tear fell and she bit her lip before nodding, her head still in my hand.

  “I love you because you have every reason to be angry at the world, and you’re not. You wake up smiling, and you stay smiling. You’d choose laughter over anything, all day and every day.”

  “Except for sex with you. I’d always choose that first.”

  I grinned, moving closer to her. “Right.”

  “Six times.”

  “What?”

  “You’re an alien sex god.”

  “We’re getting off topic.”

  “Just saying,” she said against my thumb.

  I leaned closer and closer. She was almost looking up at me.

  “You just proved all three of my reasons.”

  “Those were good reasons. I’ll give that to you.”

  Jesus. Everything in me was softening for this girl.

  I said, my head angling more over hers, “I love you because you’re the strongest person I know. All the shit you’ve had to endure, and you keep going. You will keep going, no matter what happens. Your reasons for not marrying me or having children with me, they’re bullshit. Ask me how I know they’re bullshit.”

  I waited.

  Pain flared in her gaze, and she tried to look away from me.

  “Ask me.”

  “I can’t.” Her lip started trembling.

  I moved so my forehead was resting against hers. “Because if something happened to Natalie and Deek, you’d be the first in line to take Hunter in. If you got a call that someone’s mother died from an overdose and they needed a place to stay, you’d offer yours in a heartbeat.”

  More tears fell. Her eyes were closed, and her entire body was shaking.

  I kept on. “You’d take that child in, and you’d love that child with everything in you. You would deal, because that’s what you do. You deal and you keep moving forward, and you try to love everyone on the way. Because that’s how you are, and if you really want to know, I’d be fucking lucky to have you as a wife, and I’d be the wealthiest man in the world if you ever decide to give me a child. I’m not talking money. I’m talking life. You would be giving me life. So, when I see you and I hear you say that shit about yourself, it kills me inside because it’s the opposite of how I see you. The opposite, Cheyenne. I love you because you’re you. You open your arms, your heart, and you let people see you. So many people hide, but you don’t. You’re you, and I respect the fuck out of that.”

  Now she opened her eyes.

  Now she looked up at me.

  Now she let me see her.

  I smiled down at her, both hands cupping her face, and I ran both my thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the tears that shouldn’t be there in the first place. “There she is. I see you.”

  Her hands lifted to wrap around my wrists. She whispered, “Cut?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you, too.”

  I smirked. “I know.”

  She laughed, but then I was kissing her.

  52

  Cheyenne

  I was raw when we got to my place, but I was better.

  The storm of emotions had passed. Something synced when Cut was telling me all the reasons why he loved me. I would never understand it, but I felt whole. I felt like something fell into place, and instead of feeling disjointed from myself, I could feel myself. I felt my emotions. I understood my emotions.

  That had never happened to me before, and drawing in a breath, I actually felt stronger after one of my freak-outs. Like what he said was the truth, that I would deal because that’s just how I was.

  I growled to myself because fuck yeah, he was right.

  I wasn’t no weak sauce.

  My head was swimming with so many different thoughts, but not this time. This time I was going to be driving my own bus, not my freaking brain. I shut it down. One thought after another. I was using all my cognitive coping exercises that I learned in therapy, and by damn, it was going to work. And I would go back to that event tonight. I would see Natalie. I would march up to Natalie, and I’d hug her.

  I’d hug the crap out of Hunter’s mom, and I’d enjoy it.

  Actually, I might not enjoy it, but I’d still do it.

  Why was I going to hug her again?

  The door buzzed and Cut asked me, heading over to it from the kitchen, “You expecting anyone?”

  I was thinking, thinkin
g—my girls!

  “Melanie and Sasha were going to come over.”

  He hit the buzzer and unlocked the door for them. “You want me to get rid of them?”

  “No. I’m good.” I smiled at him. “They’re my homies.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He was grinning as he came over and brushed me with a kiss right as the door burst open.

  “HOLY FUCKING OF ALL FUCKS, Cheyenne!”

  Melanie marched inside, holding a carrier of coffee, a humongous bag, and she was brandishing her phone in the air. “You’re on the fucking first page of KC’s Dirty Rag.”

  Cut’s head went back and a deep groan came from him. “Fuck.”

  “Hey.” Melanie was grinning. “That’s my word.”

  He grunted, grimacing as he pulled out his phone. “Yeah. Well. You’re sharing tonight. Fuck.”

  Melanie ignored him, coming to me and she showed me her phone. “Front and center. I don’t know where you guys were, but there’s a hella lot of pictures on social media. Were you doing soft porn somewhere?”

  Another growl from Cut as he put his phone to his ear, his eyes cutting to me. “I’m sorry. That parking lot. I’ll get the team’s PR to get this all taken down.”

  I was looking at the phone.

  One, I was thinking shocker.