Table of Contents 8 страница

Torrey held my hand so tight, my fingers started to tingle. I didn’t care, because I didn’t want her to let go. I didn’t ever want her to let go.

“Someone pulled me away, some guy. I never knew who he was. Just an unlucky passer-by. I remember he put his coat over Mikey’s face, and I was screamin’ that he wouldn’t be able to breathe like that; he’d suffocate. And this guy kept sayin’, ‘He’s gone, son. He’s gone.’ Over and over. There was an ambulance and then the police. They took me to the hospital first and sewed me up. I think I was in shock because I kept askin’ them why it was so cold, and I couldn’t stop shakin’. The police wanted to interview me, and someone had to phone my parents. I remember Momma screamin’ and cryin’ and she collapsed on the floor, and Dad was holdin’ her and cryin’, too. And I was just sittin’ there and everyone was lookin’ at me like I was some kind of monster. I kept on at them about Mikey: ‘Where’s my brother? I need to see my brother.’ I think I knew he was dead, but I didn’t want to believe it.”

Torrey ran her fingers across my cheek and kissed me gently.

“Oh my God, Jordan! I’m so sorry.”

I met her eyes and was amazed to see that they were glistening with tears.

“My God,” she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper, “that’s just … horrible and awful and shitty—but it was an accident.”

She wrapped her arms around me and it felt so good to have her there, anchoring me to the here and now.

“I can’t imagine what that was like for you,” she said, softly. “I mean, you were just a kid. And dealing with all of that alone.”

I felt the gentle touch of her fingers on my skin and I wanted that feeling to go on forever.

“You’re not alone now,” she said.

And I felt it. I felt it in her words, in her voice, and in her body. I closed my eyes: I wasn’t alone anymore.

I rolled onto my side to look at her.

“You’re still here,” I said, quietly. “I was sure you’d have headed for the hills by now.”

She smiled sadly.

“Life’s dealt you a shit hand and I can’t imagine how it was for you losing your brother like that…”

“I didn’t lose him!” I snapped. “I killed him!”

“It was an accident.”

“It don’t make no difference!”

“I think it does.”

“He’s still dead!”

“Yes, he is. And you’re alive, so stop acting like you think you should have been buried with him.”

What?

“I mean it, Jordan. You’ve got to stop torturing yourself—it was an accident!”

“Everyone around here thinks I’m a murderer.”

“Jordan, no!”

“My own parents think that, Torrey. Hell, even I thought that … think that.”

“But…”

“It’s what I am. I nearly killed a man—in prison. I wanted to.”

She closed her eyes briefly.

“Tell me,” she said, a determined expression on her face.

I turned my head to look at her.

“You mean the town gossips haven’t told you that story either?”

“No, but even if they had, I’d want to hear your version.”

I sighed and looked down.

“Well, what they say is mostly true anyway. I got into a fight—a guy got stabbed. I got the blame. The truth is, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” I looked at her sideways, watching her expressions as they flowed across her face. “They charged me with attempted murder. I mean, hell, the shank—the knife—it wasn’t even mine. It should have been pled down to aggravated assault, or assault with a deadly weapon at most, but … I don’t know … I mean, I’m not sure how it ended up being on me. Anyway, I got seven years.” I smirked, and Torrey’s lips turned down. “I got nine months off for good behavior … and overcrowding. Now, I’m serving the last six months on parole…”

My voice trailed off.

“What started the fight?”

I shrugged.

“Happened all the time. It’s hard not to get dragged into stuff, you know, stay neutral. There were two major gangs running juvie: the ABTs, the Aryan Brotherhood; and EPT, the El Paso Tangos. Being white, I was supposed to join the ABTs,” I continued, “but I just wanted to be left alone. But wantin’ and gettin’—those are different things. Two of them got me alone. I got this,” I raised my t-shirt and pointed to the white scar at the base of my ribs, “and I turned the knife on one of the gang members—nearly killed the bastard.”

I looked directly at her.

“I wanted to kill him. I would have if they hadn’t pulled me off of him.”

For the first time since I’d met her, she looked scared—scared of me. A sharp, stabbing pain threatened to split my chest open. She was scared of me. But maybe that was a good thing even though it killed me. She needed to know about the darkness inside.

I held her gaze as I carried on, my words and memories relentless.

“I’d gotten me a punctured lung, but I was almost 18 by then—my juvie record would have been sealed.” I gave a humorless laugh, “I wasn’t deemed fit to be let back among decent folk. They moved me straight from juvie to prison. But the gangs weren’t so bad there. It was almost a relief.”

I looked across at her again, but she was staring toward the city lights reflecting off the water in the distance.

“I guess you know the rest,” I said.

I was trying to read her thoughts from her face, but I couldn’t see her eyes, so I wasn’t sure what she was thinking or feeling.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said, quietly.

She didn’t look scared anymore and I didn’t know how to feel about that. Instead, I wanted to beg her not to leave me. I was afraid of what she’d say when she’d had time to think it all through. But Christ, I was so relieved that she was still here with me now.

I just wondered how long it would be for.

 

 

 

We didn’t talk much after that, and Torrey was quiet on the drive back. Every time I risked looking at her, she was staring out of the side window.

I silently begged her to speak, to say anything, even if it was to yell at me. Just say something!

As the seconds ticked by and she still didn’t speak, I felt like I’d lost her already, and it hurt so bad. I didn’t think I could take losing someone else I cared about, that I loved.

I’d always known I’d have to tell her the truth at some point, I just hoped it wouldn’t have been so soon. But I knew it was just a matter of time before somebody told her, maybe her own momma, so when she’d asked—again—I had to tell her.

I felt sick, reliving it all, and I realized that she was the first person I’d told about how Mikey died since that useless fucking shrink in the pen. It was a completely different experience telling Torrey, and all the old guilt and pain had flooded back. Why was I so stupid that night? Why had I gotten in the damn car? Why was I the one who’d survived? Why was it Mikey who had paid? And my parents, too. We’d paid and paid and paid, but the debt was never going to go away. I’d never be done paying. Never.

As I looked at the future I had, I just saw fifty empty years of trudging through each long, lonely, gray day. It seemed unbearable. And if Torrey didn’t want to be with me, I wasn’t sure I wanted to face that journey.

I thought telling her had been the right thing to do, but now I wondered if it only looked like she’d taken it well. Maybe she’d been in shock. Maybe she was afraid of me now. Maybe she was disgusted that she’d slept with me. Maybe she just wanted to get away from me…

When I pulled up outside the Rectory, she still hadn’t spoken. I felt like my skin would split from the tension burning inside me.

“Torrey, I…”

But I didn’t know what to say to make her stay.

She sighed heavily, and my heart shriveled.

“Jordan, tonight … thank you for telling me.”

I nodded and swallowed down the fear. “Has it … does it … change … things?”

Of course it does.

She didn’t answer immediately, and the sadness in her eyes all but killed me. I wished she would kill me. I wished she’d take a gun and shoot me in the fuckin’ head, rather than gut me slowly from the inside out.

“I guess I understand … things … a little more. I just need to … let it all sink in.”

Oh God…

She leaned forward and touched my cheek with the tips of her fingers, turned and wearily climbed out of the truck.

It felt like goodbye.

Words tried to force themselves out of my throat, but they turned to dust before they reached my lips.

“I’ll see you, Jordan,” she said, her voice distant and sad.

And then she was gone.

I sat staring at her house, willing her to change her mind, willing her to come talk to me—to notice me. But one by one, the lights went off until the house was dark and silent.

Feeling nauseated, I drove home slowly.

I dragged myself up the stairs to my room and dropped onto the bed. I could still smell her on me, although the scent was fading—wild flowers.

I rubbed the palms of my hands over my eyes, forcing them closed. But I was afraid to fall asleep, because then it would all seem like a dream, and when I woke up, I’d be alone again in a nightmare.

I sat up, staring into the dark.

One mistake.

That’s all it took.

One fuckin’ stupid, childish, dumb mistake. And it had torn my family apart, my brother dead. Killed. By me. I saw every day what I’d done, the grief that I’d caused. In prison, I’d been isolated, protected from the consequences of my actions. While I was the only one suffering—the only one I thought was suffering—it was fair, it was justice. Christ, how selfish had I been even then? But this? How was this fair? Why am I alive?

I pressed the tips of my fingers against my eyelids, trying to press back the images that shattered my dreams every night.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. Seeing the grief and pain in Torrey’s eyes as she’d looked at me. I was wrecking her life, too. I was damaged, I knew it. My broken edges cut everyone who came near me.

I found myself standing in the kitchen, reaching into the drawer where the carving knives were kept.

My hand pulled out a small, long-bladed knife. Thin. Sharp. And I held it against my wrist, watching the moonlight glint against the blade.

A long, upward stroke, that’s all it needed. Not across the wrist, but following the blue lines that mapped their way across my skin.

And I stood there, poised, waiting. For something. A reason to live. A reason to die.

I stood there.

I gripped the knife so hard, my hand began to shake and sweat blurred my vision.

Do it. Do it right this time. Put yourself out of your misery. End it. Do it now.

I stood there.

And then I thought of the way Torrey had held me.

I sank to the floor, still holding the knife, still willing myself to finish it. But I couldn’t do it. I remembered the way Mikey had lived and laughed and loved, and I just couldn’t do it.

The knife slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor.

I sat there, alone with my thoughts.

I’d had some long nights in my life, but that was one of the darkest and one of the longest. One of the loneliest.

An hour before dawn, I pulled myself up and replaced the knife in the drawer. It would be there when I needed it, waiting for me. But not this night.

I headed to the garage and lifted weights until my muscles burned as much as my brain. I didn’t care that I had a full day’s work ahead of me. I needed to feel something other than the horror.

The sky passed from black to velvet purple, to gray, as color leaked back into the world. This world. My world.

I could see her soon. Maybe.

And if I didn’t? If she refused to ever look at me again?

 

 

Jordan

 

I didn’t even try to eat breakfast. I showered quickly and pulled on my work clothes. The whole time, I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.

My parents ignored my presence. I was used to that, and I was beginning to prefer it

I arrived at the Rectory far too early. The Reverend’s car was already gone, but the Princess was parked in the driveway. I stared up at Torrey’s window. The curtains were still closed, the window dark in the early morning sun.

I pulled on my work-gloves and started hacking at the brambles, my thoughts chaotic but caged.

It was nearly an hour before I heard the screen door creak open, and a sleepy looking Torrey plopped herself down on the porch step.

She was carrying two cups of coffee.

“Why are you here so damn early?” she grumbled, waving me toward her.

I was so fucking grateful that she was still talking to me, that I just stared, my heart hammering painfully.

She blinked up at me, looking confused.

“Eager much?” she laughed.

“God, yes,” I admitted, unable to even pretend that the sight of her didn’t affect me deeply. I pulled myself free from the prison of despair and walked toward her like a sleepwalker.

She studied my face and ran her index finger across my stubbled cheek as I sat down next to her.

“You look like shit, Jordan. What’s up?”

I couldn’t look at her.

“Tell me,” she urged, her voice suddenly gentle.

“I … I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t turn my brain off. I … I wasn’t sure … after what I told you … I didn’t think you’d want…”

“Oh,” she said, softly. “You’ve been worrying all night that, what…? That I wouldn’t talk to you today?”

I nodded silently, and she gave an exasperated sigh.

“You’re an idiot, Jordan Kane. I told you I’d see you today. Come here.”

And she closed the small distance between us, leaning her head against my shoulder.

“I guess I should have said something more to you last night,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. It was a shock … and I was just thinking about everything you said, everything you’ve been through. But I never meant for you to think that I…” she hesitated. “I’m really glad you told me. It’s a lot for me to take in—for anyone to take in. That’s probably why people are so shitty to you—they don’t really know what to do, so they lash out.”

I wasn’t sure about that, but as long as Torrey was still talking to me, that was enough. I breathed out in utter relief, my desperation lanced by her words.

“You’ve got to tell me what you’re thinking,” she said, planting a kiss on my bare arm.

I nodded, but didn’t speak.

“We’re going to have to do something about your communication skills,” she said, a quiet chuckle sending soft ripples through her body and mine.

“I think,” I said, slowly, “that meeting you has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You don’t know it, but you’ve saved me, Torrey Delaney.

She smiled. “I’m glad I met you, too.”

 

 

Torrey

 

He looked haunted this morning when he saw me, like he’d seen a ghost. I felt horrible that I’d left him with the impression that I couldn’t cope with what he’d told me.

I snuggled into him more, enjoying the unusual sensation of cuddling up to a guy that I’d had sex with. I was more used to the wham bam thank you ma’am variety, and waking up alone again in the morning. Although, to be fair, until now, that was pretty much all I’d wanted in a guy, especially recently. Get laid, get gone. Don’t get attached.

Emotional connection had been anathema to me since Jeremy—Jem—when I was 18. I thought I’d been in love, but it wasn’t a quarter of what I felt for this damaged man sitting in silence next to me. The thought scared me, but not enough that I wouldn’t see where this might go.

It was real. He was real, and maybe I could stop running. Maybe.

At the same time, I had to admit to myself that he’d scared me last night. Not with his revelation of what had happened to Mikey, but with the cold certainty of having wanted to kill a man when he was in juvie.

A shiver of fear had passed through me. I knew what Jordan was trying to tell me: he believed that he was a killer.

But wasn’t that inside all of us? Kill or be killed? That was the question we could each ask ourselves in our darkest hours: what would I be prepared to die for? What would I be prepared to kill for?

I couldn’t answer that.

I realized, that despite everything he’d said, everything he’d told me, I’d crossed a line with Jordan, and surprisingly, I was okay with it.

I patted his thigh and stood up.

“I have some chores to do before I start this new job in a couple of days, but do you want to do something after you get off work?”

His smile was like the sun coming out.

“Maybe we could go to the bay again,” I hinted, raising my eyebrows. “Get a swim in this time? Don’t freak out on me—it’s not a date, just two friends going swimming.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he said, a grin splitting his face.

“Okay, well I’ll meet you here and you can drive us. I don’t want to risk taking the Princess over those dunes.” I threw him a sly glance. “And if you’re all sweaty from work,” I said, trying not to lick my lips, “a nice cooling swim will feel even better. Don’t bother about a swimsuit.”

He groaned, and I winked at him.

Then I picked up the two coffee mugs and left him sitting on the step, looking stunned.

 

 

 

Jordan was waiting for me when I arrived back at the Rectory later that afternoon. I’d spent the day arguing on the phone with my bank, trying to extend my overdraft. I may have also treated myself to a mani-pedi, which I totally couldn’t afford, but totally deserved.

Jordan’s anxious look vanished as soon as he saw the Princess pulling into the driveway.

He jumped out of his truck and bent down at my window. He looked like he was about to kiss me, but then he straightened up, shoved his hands in his pockets, and gave me a shy smile instead.

I took the initiative and climbed out of the car, reaching up to brush a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Hi! You ready to go?”

“Sure am, sweetheart.”

“Great. So, are you going to let me drive your truck?”

He looked surprised then shrugged his shoulders.

“I guess you can only die once.”

His smile dropped immediately, and this time it was obvious that he was beating himself up for the choice of words.

“Jordan,” I said, catching hold of his hand, “it’s just a saying. Like me saying, ‘who died and put you in charge’. People say stuff like that all the time. You’ve got to quit being so sensitive about it or it’ll hurt you every time—and I know I don’t want to do that.”

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

“I don’t know how,” he admitted, quietly. “How am I supposed to not feel this stuff?”

It was a good question.

“Maybe you can try to forgive yourself, even just a little bit.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

I sighed. We were going in circles.

“Okay, well, I just want you to know that I’m sorry for all the random times that I’ve hurt your feelings. And don’t ask me to say that again because I don’t make a habit of apologizing!”

That got a small smile.

He helped me up into the truck and buckled himself nervously into the passenger seat.

I swear his truck was filled with kangaroo gas, because we bumped and hopped all the way to the bay. I don’t think Jordan breathed once the entire ride.

It was a beautiful day with a perfect blue sky. I decided I could really get used to lazy afternoons like this.

I laid out the blanket and turned to find Jordan’s eyes fixed on my body. I’d never had a man look at me with such intense desire.

But then he seemed to give himself a mental shake.

“I’m gonna take a swim,” he said, looking out toward the clear horizon. “Join me?”

“Nah. I’m just going to sit here and ogle you for a while,” I said. “You know, just enjoy the view.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning.

He pulled off his t-shirt then neatly folded it up and placed it on the blanket. He shrugged when he saw me staring at him in disbelief.

“Old habits,” he said, sheepishly.

He turned away from me and dropped his shorts.

My own private strip show. Sigh. That man could have made a fortune doing that for hen parties. But this show was all for me. Life was gooood.

He smirked when he saw me staring at his ass.

“I haven’t got a swimsuit, like you said.”

Then he walked into the sea.

He was so graceful, cutting through the water, moving as easily as if the ocean was his natural environment. It seemed wrong that he’d been caged for so long. What did it do to a person to be limited to a 10 x 8 foot cell for years?

I sat quietly in the sunshine, wondering how free he was from the cages of his own mind. I knew they still tortured him; I just didn’t know to what extent.

I lay down on my side, watching him in the distance.

I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up he was sitting next to me, water still glistening on his shoulders. And he was wearing his shorts again.

As soon as he saw that I was awake, he leaned down and kissed me. A long, slow, passionate kiss.

Strangely enough, I didn’t get my swim that afternoon either, instead spending the time learning his body.

By evening, the temperature had fallen, and I shivered from the slight breeze that had sprung up. It would be time to go home soon. The thought dimmed my enjoyment of the beautiful sunset.

“Are you cold, sweetheart?”

“A little. But I have an idea about how you can warm me up again,” I teased.

His lips lifted in a smile.

“Oh yeah? Maybe you could enlighten me, Miss Delaney, because I surely don’t know what you mean.”

“Y’all one of those smooth talkin’ so’thern boys Ah heerd about?” I giggled, trying to capture his Rhett Butler meets Matthew McConaughey accent.

“That is a terrible renderin’ of my accent, Miss Delaney. I might just have to kiss it off of those delicious lips of yours.”

“You’ll have to catch me first,” I shouted, leaping to my feet and running helter-skelter toward the water.

I’d splashed up to my ankles only to realize it was a helluva lot colder than I’d expected, when Jordan caught me around my waist and we both crashed into the ocean.

“Holy shit!” I coughed. “That’s freakin’ cold!”

He laughed loudly. “And you were expectin’ what, exactly? You were shiverin’ in my nice warm arms two minutes ago and you thought the water was goin’ to be warmer?

He shook his head like a wet dog, showering me with droplets.

“Damn, woman! I’m freezin’ my ass off in here. Are you tryin’ to end this night for good?”

I scrambled to my feet, using his firm body to lever myself up.

“Okay, I have to admit that wasn’t one of my better ideas.”

“Oh, hell, no!” he laughed. “Skinny dippin’ with you was definitely on my to-do list.”

“Why, Mr. Kane! Don’t tell me you’ve been having improper thoughts about me.”

“Since the first day I saw you, sweetheart,” he said, a happy smile lighting up his beautiful eyes. “And what with havin’ a room to myself for the first time in eight years, I have to say I’ve been chokin’ the chicken pretty hard every night.”

I spluttered out a laugh. “‘Choking the chicken’? Really! Because that conjures up all sorts of bizarre images of feathers and chicken skin, none of which are a turn on. I mean, generally speaking, the thought of you playing some one-handed baseball would be getting me all hot and sweaty but…”

“Wait, what? You tellin’ me that you’ve been having improper thoughts about me, Miss Delaney?”

“God, yes! The day you walked into the Busy Bee Diner, I was thinking up a plan to have my wicked way with you.”

His happy smile dimmed as we both thought back to that day.

“Hey! Don’t let the fuckers grind you down. Like I said, a few more months and your parole will be finished, then you can get the hell away—for good.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, softly. “I don’t deserve to feel anythin’ other than shit for what I’ve done.”

I slapped him hard across the face, and he staggered back.

“I told you I’d hit you if you talked crap like that again. Look, I didn’t know Mikey…”

“No, you didn’t!” he said, harshly.

“Well, everyone keeps telling me what a great guy he was.”

“That’s true, he was!”

“Yeah? So you think this ‘great guy’,” I shouted, using bitchy air quotes with my hands, “do you think this ‘great guy’ who loved you would want you to be so fucking miserable every day for the rest of your life?”

“You don’t understand what it’s like,” he muttered.

“Oh, hell. Is that the best you’ve got? I don’t know what it’s like? Well, enlighten me, shit head!”

I thought maybe I’d pushed him too far, because he splashed out of the water and stalked back up the beach.

Damn, that was a fine ass he had. I’d have to study that more later. But for now I was curious as to what answer he’d come up with, other than walking away like some sullen teenager.

But when I got back to our picnic area, he was sitting on the blanket, all hunched up.

I immediately sat next to him and put both my arms around his waist, leaning my chin on his shoulder.

“I don’t know how to be anythin’ else,” he whispered. “I’ve been the fuck up all of my life. I know it sounds dumb, but I know who I am here—the loser, the guy who killed his brother.” He took a shuddering breath. “I don’t know who I’ll be if I leave.”

“Jordan,” I said, kissing his shoulder gently, “you can be whoever you want to be. You’ve got to take a chance on life. Yeah, you’ll get shit thrown at you, but there’s more to you than the sum of your history, more waiting for you than this small town. You have a good heart, and if you let people get to know you, they’ll see that for themselves.”

His head hung down, but when he looked up again, his icy expression was back and I shivered. This time it wasn’t because of the temperature.

“Why do you even care, Torrey?” he sneered. “I’m not your problem. I’m just another in a long list of guys that you’ve screwed.”

Ouch. I wasn’t expecting that. I let my arms drop away from him and leaned back on my hands.

“Well, good to know what you think of me. Guess my blunt talking rubbed off on you after all.”

Suddenly, his mood shifted again, and he looked remorseful.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. That came out all wrong.”

“No shit, Sherlock! You know, you don’t have to be a jerk about it. I just happen to like sex, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. But people can be awfully judgmental. Frankly, I didn’t think you’d be one of them.”

“Oh, right, I’ve got it now,” he said, angrily. “You thought the ex-con would have lower standards—a no-questions-asked fuck.”

“You can be a real asshole. Fuck you, Jordan!”

I pulled on my shorts and tank top, not caring that my bra was buried somewhere in the sand.

Jordan watched me without moving. I resisted the urge to kick sand in his face. I knew he was lashing out at me because he was hurting and scared, but that didn’t mean I had to stick around and be his patsy.

Damn, I wished I’d come in my own car. The jerk-off asshole looked like he was going to let me walk home. And I still couldn’t find my flip-flops. Hot tears pricked behind my eyes. Oh, no way! I was not going to let that asswipe make me cry. I promised myself a long time ago that I would not be shedding tears over some guy again.

I started walking, and when he realized I was walking straight past his stupid truck, he finally got the picture.

“Torrey, wait!”

“Go fuck yourself!”

I heard him scrabbling around behind me, so I guessed he was pulling on his pants. I stomped up the dirt road, cursing when a sharp stone dug into the soft pad of my foot. Damn, this was going to be a long walk.

I heard Jordan’s voice again, begging for me to wait.

I went maybe a hundred yards across the dunes and up the dirt road, when I heard the truck’s engine roar to life, and yellow headlights flooded the route ahead of me.

I briefly considered hiding behind a bush, but the thought of what creepy-crawlies and wild critters might be hiding with me nixed that idea.

The truck pulled alongside me, the engine idling.

“Get in,” he snapped.

I carried on walking as the truck crept along next to me.

“Torrey, get in the damn truck, or I’ll have to come down there and throw yo’ ass in!” he yelled.

Without a word, I yanked the door open and sat down, refusing to look at him.

The truck didn’t move.

“What now?” I bellowed. “I’m in the damn truck!”