by Lane Parker
“Here.” I walked over to the cabinet, and stood close to her, my arm on her shoulder to hold her back. “Let me.”
Her wide brown eyes traveled over my chest. It felt almost as good to have her look me over as it felt to look at her.
For a moment, I actually felt wanted, and it was a damn heady sensation.
I wanted to pull her close, to lean down and claim her mouth. I wanted to lift her up onto the counter and wrap her legs around me. To feel her, inside and out, and make her scream my name.
Mine! Keeley doesn’t belong with anyone else but me.
My very next thought was:
Fuck. No.
I was having a hard time fighting my conflicting emotions, and my relentless need to claim this woman for my own.
I have no right to own this woman. To make her exclusively mine. But damned if I didn’t want that just the same.
I reached up and found the pasta and brought it down to her.
She took it from my hand, and when both of hers wrapped around the box, her fingers brushed mine. There was a soft flush on her cheeks that was so damn adorable that I wanted to fuck her right there in the tiny kitchen. “Well,” she said, with a crooked smile, “I think I can do something with this.”
I’m sure you can.
Before I completely lost my shit, I backed away and left the kitchen to her.
It was hard enough not to watch her when she was doing nothing. When she was cooking, making something out of nothing, and doing it all with confidence and ease… it was kind of spellbinding.
I tried really hard not to look at her again, but I could smell some amazing aromas coming out of the kitchen as she cooked.
Soon enough, she handed me a plate with a crooked smile, an expression that I’d learned was happiness, mixed with a little bit of uncertainty.
That smile made my gut ache.
“Carbonara. Kind of, anyway,” she murmured.
Even if it was only kind of, it looked and smelled incredible. Better than anything I could have come up with.
“Thanks. This is, uh… you didn’t have to.” I felt sheepish all of a sudden, like she could see everything in my thoughts.
That quizzical stare always disarmed me, so I looked away.
She snorted. “Oh, I did have to. I didn’t really want another sandwich. No offense.”
“Believe me, none taken.” Hell, I’d been eating almost nothing but cold sandwiches for years.
We sat at my table and ate quietly for a while. I was grateful for the quiet. It was kind of comfortable, having dinner here with her. Almost natural. I didn’t know what to make of that, so I decided to just concentrate on my food.
The kind-of-carbonara was fucking delicious. That helped keep my mind off her while I ate.
I should learn to make something except sandwiches.
I’d always been hopeless at cooking. I was impressed with Keeley’s skill, and I told her so.
“You could do it, too. It’s pretty easy, really.”
“Nah.” I shook my head and looked away. “I think my sister got all of the culinary talent.” Liv could make anything.
I stared at the dark window, out at the quiet night. I wondered if my sister was still baking these days… if that still made her happy.
“Your sister likes to cook?” From inside the fog of my thoughts, Keeley sounded far away.
Why did I even say that out loud? I didn’t want to talk about Olivia. I didn’t even want to think about her.
My mind was suddenly everywhere. Like I said, I’d been alone too long. Having someone else around, in my space, had me feeling like I wanted to communicate with another soul. Maybe I was temporarily insane because Keeley was here. I really didn’t want to be close to anyone.
One minute I liked her being here; the next I couldn’t stand it.
I thought maybe I wouldn’t answer her, and just keep eating my food. But she looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to respond.
Like a normal person would do.
I swallowed. “I don’t really want to talk about her.”
Her brow furrowed, then she nodded, and turned back to her food. She didn’t push me on it. I don’t know what I expected, but my face was hot. With embarrassment? I didn’t even know anymore. I turned back to the window.
What I really didn’t like talking about was how I felt, ever.
“You know, I really kind of like it here,” Keeley mused aloud.
Wait a minute… what?
Keeley’s voice was bright and sunny, and she smiled at me. It seemed like she was trying to change the subject. Maybe I had made her uncomfortable. Probably wouldn’t be the last time.
Or maybe she was doing it for me. Could she tell how much talking about Liv bothered me?
Shit, that was hard to believe. No one had cared how I felt in so long. A lot of times, even I didn’t care much about myself.
“All things considered,” she said, “I’m kind of having a nice time.”
I cocked my head in disbelief. “Really?”
“I’m more surprised than you are.” She pushed away her empty plate. “It’s… quiet. I guess I can see why you live here. I guess that’s what I’m saying.”
“But you…” I scratched at my beard, at my too-long hair that itched at my collar. “You don’t need to be out here. I’m sure you’re wanted back home.”
And if you’re not, L.A. is worse than I thought.
She looked at me for a moment, her sweet mouth opened slightly. There was a flash of sadness in her eyes. “Do you need to be here?” I asked hesitantly, not sure why I had to know.
She swallowed. “I think so.”
Her brow wrinkled, and her nose scrunched up. She shook her head. “I don’t understand it, but I feel like I was meant to be here right now.”
Something shifted in me. She was beautiful, and I wanted her—that was easy enough to process and ignore when it grew too intense. Beneath that, though, way deeper than my simple desire to fuck her, my mind was telling me something else. Maybe it was some kind of mysterious connection that drew my sorry ass to her.
I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted her to understand me.
And that scared the hell out of me.
“I fucked up, Keeley,” I said, my voice breaking in my throat. “Really bad.”
Keeley leaned on her fist and looked at me, her dark brown eyes clear and open, and giving. “You can tell me.”
Even though it went against my better judgment, I did. I told her everything.
Chapter Nine
James
It had been the holidays, almost nine years ago, and I’d been home with my parents—and we were doing what we always did—ignoring each other.
Liv was home for the holidays, too. She’d been back from Paris for a couple of years, though I hadn’t seen her much. I was busy finishing art school, trying to establish some kind of career, finally finding a place where I could do what I wanted. Be who I wanted to be.
We’d been happy to see each other that Christmas. Too bad I hadn’t been so thrilled about her new boyfriend.
I grimaced. Even now, I could still remember how condescending he’d been to Olivia. And how fucking patronizing he’d been about my art. But I’d managed to hold back on my instincts…in the beginning. After all, it was nothing a few whiskeys couldn’t help me tune out.
Then, I’d noticed the bruises on Olivia’s wrists, saw the way she covered and cowered at her boyfriend’s constant criticism. It had been enough to send me into an ugly rage.
When I’d heard Olivia and her boyfriend fighting in her childhood bedroom, I’d finally lost my shit.
I hadn’t cared if he threw barbs at me, but when he started on my sister, I’d been done ignoring the bastard.
I hadn’t bothered to check myself. At all.
I’d stomped to the bedroom. All it had taken was the sight of the big man standing over Olivia, her hands swiping at her tear-stained face, and it was on. I’d slammed
the asshole into the wall. I’d bashed his face, over and over. Broke his nose, and his jaw.
The son of a bitch had begged me to stop, but I hadn’t. I couldn’t. I was in a blind rage over what he’d done to the sister who had always been there for me when I was a child.
She’d protected me when I was a kid, so I had the driving urge to do the same for her as an adult.
Finally, my father had pulled me off him, and even then, I hadn’t been ready to stop.
I could remember Olivia crying hysterically from her seat on the bed.
All I’d really wanted to do was comfort her, make sure she was okay, see if she needed anything.
However, the moment I’d sat down next to her, she’d backed away, choking out breathless sobs as she went.
Holy shit! I’d forever remember the look of horror on her face, the expression of absolute disbelief.
But the thing that lingered the clearest in my mind was her fear. Of me. She’d moved away from me like I was the monster.
I hadn’t seen her since that day. Or my parents, either, since they seemed to be scared of the mindless rage I hadn’t been able to control, too.
It was the one time they seemed to show any emotion at all.
I’d heard that Liv had eventually married the asshole. Obviously, I hadn’t been invited to the wedding, but I was constantly haunted by images of her getting beaten up so badly that she ended up in the hospital. Or worse.
But what in the hell could I do about that since she refused to even let me near her?
I didn’t understand it at all.
She was the one who had helped me when I was bullied. Who’d protected me. She’d seen what it had done to me, and she’d always stepped in without hesitation.
How could she let herself be hurt like that? How could she love someone like that?
Maybe I hadn’t needed to thrash him as badly as I had, but I sure as hell had never regretted it. I would have hated myself more if I’d done nothing, or worse yet, tried to actually reason with a guy who had no reasoning ability because he was an abusive bastard.
In my mind, Olivia’s boyfriend had gotten exactly what he deserved.
Still, I’d tormented myself, wondering if there hadn’t been a small part of me that enjoyed kicking his ass. Had I wanted blood on my hands? Had I done it not to defend Olivia, but because I’d wanted to do it for myself?
Had I become just another bully?
Was I really a monster?
After that, I’d gone down a slippery slope into a pretty dark place. People hadn’t made sense to me anymore. After long hours in my studio, alone with my own scary thoughts, I’d had no idea who I even was anymore.
I felt out of place. Out of time. Like I didn’t belong anywhere.
Truth was, sometimes I was scared of what was inside me, too.
Honestly, I had been out of control that night, and I hadn’t liked the person I’d turned into. I couldn’t reconcile the two—the justified rage, and the blinding one.
After that Christmas, I’d needed to get away. Being alone was easier. Living alone made sense. I couldn’t hurt anyone else if there was nobody around me.
Once I’d bailed myself out of jail, and paid the price for what I’d done, I’d checked out of civilization for a planned one-year break that had turned into a very long period of solitude.
However, there was one thing that I couldn’t get out of my mind. Something stuck with me and haunted me.
When Olivia had backed away from me, terrified, all I could think was that I couldn’t understand her anymore.
How in the hell had we grown so far apart?
“What happened to your dream, Liv? What about being happy?” I’d asked her once she’d moved away from me that evening.
She’d stared back at me, and then gaped at her fiancé’s blood on my fists. She looked at me like she felt the same as I did—that I didn’t make any sense to her. That I wasn’t her brother anymore. Like I was some kind of maniacal stranger.
Her voice was stern when she finally replied, “This is what I want now. You almost took that away from me. I won’t let you. I hate you. Stay away from me.”
Right then, I realized how much she had changed. How much we both had.
The one person who had always loved me unconditionally was gone.
I was suddenly alone, and completely destroyed.
Chapter Ten
Keeley
The story James told me was nothing like I expected.
When he’d finished, he stared down at the table between us, his arms folded tight. He wouldn’t look at me. I suppose he thought I was judging him.
Honestly, I’d gotten over the stupid idea that he was a psycho killer. Having an anger problem… feeling betrayed by your family… wanting to protect the ones you love… None of those things make someone a psycho.
The way he talked about it; he was definitely still in pain. Guilt and regret followed him around like a dark cloud. That’s how it seemed to me.
The regret was the potent thing. That was what made him so afraid of everything. Even himself.
He’s so afraid of himself. Of what he might do. He doesn’t realize that everyone has a breaking point where they lose control.
In his case, I thought his actions were more than justified.
I wasn’t afraid of him. Whatever he said, he didn’t seem dangerous to me.
Never once had James lost his temper and gone off on me, even though I knew my presence was something he definitely didn’t want.
All I could judge was what I saw in front of me. Sure, I didn’t know him. I only met him the day before—in the weirdest circumstances imaginable. However, I wasn’t about to judge a man for losing it trying to protect his sister from injury…or death.
He can’t keep blaming himself and seeing himself as some kind of monster.
He’d saved my life. I thought I could do something for him in return.
“Can I tell you something?” I asked.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look up. So I went on.
“I have this friend. She had a boyfriend who would get rough with her. He would grab her too hard, raise his voice too much. I don’t know what else he did at home,” I said. “I guess I was afraid to know.”
That person was my friend, Yasmin. The one who convinced me to go on this wild trip. My fingers tapped nervously against the table as I remembered the things I used to hear from her. I remembered how powerless and angry I felt.
“He was such an asshole. But she wouldn’t break up with him.”
James finally looked up. He was listening to me. I hoped he could really hear what I was saying. I hoped it made sense to him.
“We were out at a bar one night, and he started acting like that. She just sat there and took it.” I shook my head, my jaw tight as I continued to tell the story.
“It made me crazy. But I wasn’t mad at her,” I stressed to him. “I wanted to help her, but… it doesn’t make sense to you if you’re not the one it happens to. That’s what she told me later. You think you’d never let it happen to you, but you don’t know. How could you?”
His dark blue eyes looked at me with concern. Still, he was quiet, and listened.
“Anyway, I was beyond pissed that night. He wouldn’t leave her alone. And maybe I’d been drinking a little too much, but…” I winced, remembering everything that happened.
“I smashed a bottle over his head.”
His eyebrows raised. “Damn,” he rasped.
I sighed. “Yeah. Then he tried to beat me up. We both got arrested.”
He placed his hands on the table, his body appearing tense. “Were you all right?”
“Oh,” I said, waving my hand. “I was fine. I wish I could say that was the last straw for Yasmin. But it took a little while for it to sink in. You know?”
“Yeah.” He nodded softly and his brow furrowed.
“Your sister might’ve just needed time, James? And I know it doesn’t change a
nything, but your heart was in the right place,” I said. I leaned my elbows on the table. “I’m sure it still is.”
“How can you be sure of that?” His voice was barely a hoarse whisper.
To me, it seemed so simple. “You saved me. And I think you wanted to save her, too.”
He looked up at me, the disbelief clear on his face. “I’m the asshole who sent you off to get hurt in the first place, Keeley. You were in trouble. Anyone would have helped you.”
I scoffed. “No, they wouldn’t. But you did. You’re not a bad person. Even if you’ve thought that for a long time, that doesn’t make it true.”
I knew I was taking a risk, trying to convince him of something about himself, when I barely knew him. The thing was, I’d kind of been where he’d been. Yasmin wasn’t my sister, and my situation wasn’t as extreme, but I knew how he felt—like you were pointing to something obvious that no one else seems to see. Like no one made sense.
His gaze veered away, and he stared out at the dark night.
I stood up slowly and picked up the plates. “I’m gonna leave you alone for a little while. Let me know if you want to talk about it more.”
He sat at the table for a few minutes while I began washing the dishes and cleaning up, and then he stood. He went to the bookshelf, pushed aside a few dusty novels, and took down a stack of postcards. I watched him from time to time while I washed. He sat on the couch and read them, one by one, and finally heaved a masculine sigh.
There wasn’t much to clean. When I finished, he was still there, thinking, the pile of postcards in his lap. I walked over, and he looked up, his eyes hazy.
“I was afraid of myself, Keeley. I lost complete control. I had absolutely no rational thought when I was beating the guy senseless. All I could think about was him hurting Liv. I didn’t know when to stop. I had to wonder if there was something inherently evil inside me. Some part of me that I didn’t know. If I actually liked hurting people.”
My heart clenched. “You’re not that man, James,” I said quietly. “You aren’t evil. You had a blind rage for a reason. Maybe I don’t know you well, but you aren’t going to hurt anybody else.”
