A better man would agree. I’m not a better man. I garb her by her waist gently. “I really love you too.”
Her face softens through her pain. “I know you do, Bach. I’m not so upset that I don’t know that. It’s not fair I feel like a bad guy in all of this now. He’s going to come home and expect a second chance.”
“At least we know what was in that letter now.” I’m glad I didn’t give in to temptation to read it. I never would have gotten her if I had. I kiss her mouth, fearful that once she sees him she’ll fall right back into his arms. Dylan’s new lies aren’t as bad as his first ones.
“I don’t want to give him a second chance.” Guilty tears fill her eyes. “I don’t care if he wasn’t cheating. I don’t care if he never lied again. The truth isn’t worth giving you up.”
Music to my fucking ears. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
“Together,” she promises. “Please promise me this is the last one. I can’t take any more secrets.”
“I’m gay,” I reveal, with all the vigor and relief I can muster. “Me and Jona are running away together to Palm Springs and you can kiss our asses.”
She giggles and wipes her eyes. “If you’re gay so am I.”
Not a bad image. “I promise there’s nothing else on my end. I think. No, I’m pretty sure. Positive. Kind of.” I laugh when she swats me, when really all I can think about is when she sees the man she loved first, am I still going to be enough? “Let’s go talk to Whitney.”
I carry her things downstairs and resume my spot in the driver’s seat. The only truth around us is how I feel. I don’t say anything as we drive. She’s too caught up in her thoughts. I don’t want to know her thoughts this time. They’re undoubtedly about Dylan, subsequently rage inducing. Before I know it I’m thinking about Hillary again. I really wouldn’t do that would I? I’m a dirty son of a bitch, but her eyes would have warned me. Even higher than the moon I would have known who she was. It’s as if there’s too much going on at once for my brain to pick one topic to obsess over. For the first time in years, perhaps ever, I’m sober during a problem. And though the problems are no less bothersome, I feel a sense of power knowing I can fix them this time rather than run
When we get to my place I can tell Harley wants to leave already. I grab her hand and urge her inside. Aubrey is on my floor playing with her toys. Whitney is on the couch, staring at the TV like a zombie. She looks at Harley when we come in and then returns her eyes to the TV.
“He told me he told you. Otherwise I never would have come here looking for help.”
“Dylan’s a liar,” Harley responds. “He lies about everything.”
“Clearly.”
I can’t take my eyes of Dylan’s kid. She’s got his sharp blue eyes. His crazy brown hair. Even her chubby cheeks remind me of him. She flies her doll through the air and then crash lands into the other doll. That’s how I feel right now. Like someone’s crashing me into someone else and I can’t hold on to them.
That uncertainty follows me around for weeks. Harley and I take care of Aubrey as Whitney tries not to fall apart. With no new information about Dylan she’s starting to think his officer was wrong. Dylan didn’t make it. Every time she starts in on him like that I hold Aubrey up like she’s a princess waiting for the king. She needs her dad. Even if he is a lying bastard. Because he did this for her. He left Harley, the one girl I know firsthand he’s been waiting forever for, for his daughter. He’s coming home. He has to. I still have to kick his ass.
At night Harley and I break in our new mattress. I don’t think about how I burned my old one on the beach. How the flames chased the stars and the piss away. Her body entangles with mine, her lips trace my abs, and her tongue sends me over the edge every time. I can never get close enough to her, never. I try, and though it’s fun as hell, I want to know that she’s mine forever.
Right now Harley and Whitney are out doing whatever it is girls do when they’re not with me. I can’t imagine it’s much fun. Aubrey can’t run, but she can walk. Her little chubby legs chase me around my house, giggling uncontrollably. Just before I let her catch me the doorbell rings. Aubrey runs into my legs and rejoices.
“Bach!” she squeals.
I grin down at her and pick her up. “You cheated.”
When I open the door my good mood dissipates. Being around Aubrey’s helped me forget a lot of shit. It’s hard to worry when you have a one and a half year old trying to get into everything.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” I stare at Hillary on my doorstep. There’s no way. She’s barely eighteen. There’s no way.
“Who’s that?” She smiles sweetly at Aubrey. “She’s a cutie.”
“Aubrey. She’s my buddy’s kid.” I shuffle from foot to foot and then dredge up some manners. I know they’re in there somewhere. “You want to come in?”
“Yes, thank you. Do you have any kids?” she asks, stepping inside.
“No. But I love trying.” She frowns at me. “Sorry. Sister. I forgot. Can’t say stuff like that around you.”
She laughs uncomfortably and takes a seat on my couch. I put Aubrey on the floor on the blanket I gave her and give her the doll with the black hair. She likes the black hair doll more for some reason. Then I sit down awkwardly next to her. I’ve been waiting for this talk.
I rub my hands together nervously. My stomach rolls. “Does your mom know you’re here?”
“No. Of course not. She’s so weird about you. It’s like she’s allowed to talk to you but I’m not.”
“Why would you want to talk to me?”
“Because,” she says strongly, “you’re my brother. It’s only been me and Mom. Now I have this other family member out there that I can’t even get to know. It’s driving me crazy.”
“I’m not good for you to know.”
“Why not?” she demands angrily. “I’m sorry for lying, but I just couldn’t stand the fact that you might’ve known it was me during our talk.”
My head snaps up and I meet her pale green eyes, my eyes. “Lied about what?”
“We never actually, you know … did anything.”
I sag in relief. A pressure I didn’t know was pushing me down was now gone. “We didn’t?”
“No. You were really wasted. My friend Piper dragged me to a frat party and you were there. You saw me and something in your eyes changed. I thought you liked me,” she admits, her cheeks pink. “But now I know it’s because of my eyes. We have the same eyes. You knew it was me.”
“Then what?”
“We talked all night. You kept asking me question after question about who I was, what I liked, what it was like growing up. And then this really pretty girl stole you from me.” She laughs at herself, but I don’t want to know why. “When I saw you again you could barely stand up. You scared me. I drove you home in your car. I thought you were going to kiss me, but you fell over instead. I tripped, losing one heel. Then I lost the other one in your bedroom when you fell down and pulled it off my foot. I could barely get you in bed before you passed out. I called a taxi and went home. That’s all that happened.”
I lean over suddenly and grab her around her shoulders, hugging her to me. I can’t help it. I squeeze her so hard she squeaks. “Sorry. I’m just so damn glad we didn’t do anything.”
“Me too.”
“I’m still not good for you to be around. That kind of stuff happens around me. There’s a reason your mom kept me from you.”
“You’re not bad, Bach. I could tell when we were talking that you were a really good person.”
She’s too damn sweet for her own damn good. “You’re naïve, sweets. You don’t know bad, because if you did, you never would have talked to me to begin with.”
“So don’t I get a say? My mom’s been telling me what to do, making all my choices for all my life. I can’t take it anymore, Bach. I want to know you. I want to know that the other part of me that came from my dad isn’t a myth.”
Heari
ng her talking about my dad, our dad, is freaking me out. “You don’t want to know that son of a bitch. Trust me, Hillary. He doesn’t even deserve to know you exist. Your mom and I both agree on that.”
She reaches out and grabs my hand. “Then I want to know you.”
I want to know her too. How much good can I have? I don’t deserve Harley and Hillary. I can’t have both. The balance of things would tip. The world would fall. I’d destroy them both. But I can’t choose either. I turn my hand over and gently grasp her small fingers. “Talk to your mom about it. If she says you can then we can.”
“I’m eighteen, Bach. I don’t need to ask permission to get to know my brother.”
Even her anger is adorable. “Were you really at a party?” I can’t see it. That’s probably why I wanted to talk to her. Harley was right, part of me had known who she was.
She sighs, taking her hand back. “Yeah, so?”
“A frat party?”
“Yeah, so?” she repeats, attempting to be indignant but failing. “I’ll probably go back.”
“Nice try.” I smirk at her. Her eyes are just like mine. Looking into them makes me think that at one point in my life, before my dad sucked it out of me, I might’ve had eyes with that much good in them once too. I want to know her good too. “I want to know you too. I always have.”
She smiles widely. “I can’t believe I have a brother. I don’t even care that when I tried to kiss you, you pushed my face away.”
“Good.” I knew it was her. “My good looks know no bounds.”
She gawks at me then shakes her head. “We kind of look alike you know? I guess that means I do look like my dad.”
“We’re spitting images of him.”
She sighs sadly. “Do you have a picture of him?”
I want to tell her what he did to me, but some part of me warms that she can still search for good in this sea of bad. “No. Sorry.” I’m not sorry. She’s better off not knowing she looks like a monster.
“It’s okay. Looking at you is kind of like looking at him, right?”
I refrain from cringing. I won’t ruin it for her. “Sure, sweets. Sure.”
My little sister grins at me, her sweetness like the sun, as she imagines me looking like the one man who burned me alive. It makes her happy knowing I look just like the man she’s always wanted to know. For her I’ll take it. Part of me is monstrous anyway.
We both look over at the door as Harley and Whitney come in. They’re laughing about something girls laugh about when I’m not the one who made them laugh. I can’t imagine it’s that funny. Harley’s smile drops when she notices Hillary.
I wink and she relaxes. Incest averted. Destruction has ceased. The world is safe once again.
“We brought dinner.” Harley wiggles takeout bags. I watch her tits wiggle in her tank top instead. “Will you stay for dinner, Hillary?”
“Is she your girlfriend?” she asks quietly.
“Fortunately for her.”
Hillary rolls her eyes and smiles sweetly at Harley. “I would love to. Thank you.”
“How’s my princess?” Whitney coos, reaching down to pick up Aubrey. “Uncle Bach didn’t kill you so I guess everything went well?” She laughs when I glare at her.
That night we all gather around my coffee table. The rich smell of Italian food permeates around us. Whitney feeds Aubrey a noodle. We all laugh when she slurps it up. Hillary sits next to me, beaming. Every once in a while she’ll look up at me and smile with nothing but hope in her pale green eyes. For once my eyes reflect the same.
I save Harley for last. Not because she’s the last, but because I want to spend the rest of the night looking into her light brown eyes. I reach over and kiss the sauce off her lips and she smiles at me too. It’s different than Hillary’s smile. Harley’s smile holds promises, naughtiness, and love. Her smile says forever.
And I’m ready for every second.
“Oh,” she whispers, leaning over to put her mouth on my ear. “I bought an apple pie. Maybe we can eat it later. Alone. In the dark. Without forks.”
“I fucking love apple pie.”
I smother her mouth with mine and kiss her in front of everyone.
Because she’s mine.
Forever.
And I still don’t deserve her. I never will. Yet I’ll have forever to prove myself wrong. My nightmares still haunt me, they always will, but every time I wake up Harley reminds me I escaped.
For the first time in my entire life I feel alive.
I’m living.
Harley
I’ve been putting this off for weeks.
Dylan’s been recovering in Galveston for almost a month.
I’ve been putting this off for almost a month.
I want to put it off for another month.
“Stop worrying,” Bach orders, squeezing my hand in the hospital waiting room. “I already talked to him.”
“He hit you,” I point out, reaching up to kiss his black eye. And the other bruises on his jaw and nose. “He doesn’t want to see me.”
“I let him hit me. Here,” he says, waving his hand at Aubrey. “He’s a sucker for Aubrey. Can’t even be mad with her around. I’ve been bringing her with me for weeks. Come here, Aubrey.”
Not again, I can tell she’s thinking. She sighs, a lot more attitude prone and expressive after being around Bach, and waddles over to us. He lifts her up and puts her in my arms.
“Tell Daddy you love him,” he coaches. “Smile. You remember the smile?”
She holds her hand out expectantly. I hide my smile with my hair. Bach sighs. “You little monster. Here.” He gives her a ring lollipop, her favorite. “I’ll come with you,” he promises.
I don’t doubt that he will. Bach and I are this single beating force now. When he moves I move. When he breaths I breathe. When I touch him I’m home. We are bound in a way I’ve never been bound to another person. When I look into his eyes I am who I always wanted to be. And for a man who spent such a long time running, I think he’s where he wants to be too. This relationship isn’t going to be easy. I’ve accepted that. I’m prepared to fight for this man. No one ever has before. They’ve given him escape and pain, and now I’m going to make it so he never needs either ever again.
I will spend the rest of my life proving to Bach that he’s worth every ounce of happiness I plan on bringing him.
But damn it, I’m still nervous.
Bach opens Dylan’s hospital door first, entering slowly. I enter second. The moment I see him the old Harley reacts. Her heart is Bach’s now, but she’ll never forget that Dylan made her smile first, that he promised her forever and she believed him. The old Harley’s heart holds onto him, daring me to make her let go.
He looks up from his iPad, a gift from Bach. Now that Bach’s working for Froy’s car dealership in Houston he’s got the money to relieve his guilt with expensive gifts.
The first person he notices is Aubrey. A light I never knew existed in his eyes comes to life when he sees her. “Hey, Ree. What are you doing here?” I lean her over so he can grab her. He presses her little body to his chest.
“You’re not supposed to hand over the kid,” Bach whispers harshly in my ear.
“Crap,” I mumble, realizing my mistake. I’m a guppy in shark infested waters.
Dylan looks over at me. Disgust flits across his handsome face. He looks so different, yet the same. He’s growing a slight beard and his eyes are sunken. His right leg is in a huge metal cast contraption covered in plaster. Bach told me the bullet that entered his thigh shattered his femur and tore through his muscle. He was supposed to start physical therapy when he got home, but the outlook of him being able to walk again with both legs the way he used to was a slight possibility.
“Why didn’t you read my letter?” he demands.
Just like that we’re facing the facts. “I’m glad I didn’t read it, Dylan. No matter what you lied. You lied so much I could never see you as anything else.”
“You’re glad? Why? Because now you’re with Bach?” He spits Bach’s name like a curse. “When I think of you two together I want to puke. Do you have any idea how many other,” he pauses to cover Aubrey’s ears, “bitches he’s been with?”
“No more than you.”
“Very true,” Bach agrees easily, unaffected by Dylan’s anger.
“I love him, Dylan. I’m sorry you don’t agree, but that’s how it is now.”
He curls his lips over his teeth in abhorrent disgust. “That’s how it is? You’re destroyed now. I wouldn’t want you even if you did wake up and smell the fucking coffee.”
“Watch it, Dylan,” Bach warns.
“Or what, Bach? Are you going to steal something else from me? My daughter? You want her too? She just loves her Uncle Bach. She’s mine, you bastard!”
Bach reaches over and grabs for Aubrey. “Give her to me. She doesn’t need to hear this. Dylan,” he whispers harshly. “Let her go.”
“Who?” Dylan asks pointedly. Bach looks into his eyes, telling him the answer. “Here you SOB,” he relents. “Take her.”
“I’ll be right back,” Bach promises me, holding Aubrey. “Remember, he can’t get up. You can say whatever you want.”
When the door closes his dark blue eyes bore into mine. “Why, Harley?”
I sink into the chair next to his bed, but not too close. Bach’s bruised for a reason. “I love him, Dylan.”
“Why?”
“He’s everything I want. What other reason do I need?”
“What about me? I love you too, Harley. I wanted us to be a family with Aubrey. I wanted to make you happy.”
“You wanted to make your daughter happy. Which I don’t fault you on,” I continue when he tries to stop me. “I love Aubrey. I’d do the same thing for her. But I can’t take your lying. You lied so damn much I don’t know what the truth was.”
“And let me guess. Bach doesn’t lie?”
“Not to me.”
He drops heavily onto his pillow. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
My guilt is mine and I’ll have to find a way to deal with it. “You will. One day you’ll meet someone that takes your breath away and she’ll give you everything you deserve.”
Destroy Me (Crystal Gulf Book 1) Page 31