by Scott, S. L.
“I lied. I was cynical back then.”
“This morning?” she questions.
“Whatever.”
“Don’t play this off. You’re not the cynical type.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“I could say the same to you, but I’m still here fighting for us.”
Rubbing my temples, I close my eyes. When I open them, the frustrating beauty has personality in spades on display—hands on her hips, toe tapping, trying her best to portray impatience. I see through her. “I know you better than anybody at that party.”
I’m rewarded with a smile. “It’s true. You let me be exactly who I am. No pretenses or walls. Just me. That’s why I’m here, Dare. I believe in us. We have all the time in the world to be together. I promise we do.”
“Think of your future, of the life you’re trying to build. It’s not fair for me to step in at the end. You need to take that job and own it. Show those fuckers who you really are.”
“You’re giving up on us and think that’s fair?” She stands her ground with her arms crossed. “You’re telling me what to do, thinking you know what’s best for me. That makes you no different than my father or Lloyd. This breakup isn’t about me. It’s about you.”
I can’t say her words don’t sting. The accusation that I’m anything like the men who dismiss her is a shot to the heart, but that anger will work in her favor when I’m gone. It’s the strength she needs to move on. She deserves to be happy, but it will be on the back of hating me first. Is this what being selfless means? It fucking hurts if it does. “You can believe what you want, Weatherly. I’m done. With this scene. With this argument—”
“With me.”
“I’m leaving,” I say.
“If you walk away . . .” I don’t hear her behind me this time. Her jagged breaths fade in the growing distance between. “Please don’t walk away.”
I stop once more, my soul tied to hers, holding me there. I will never forgive myself for this. Never, but if I learned nothing else from my mother, I once learned that destiny exists. Good and bad. It’s all part of some master plan. She left something bad to find a life she loved. I’m leaving my heart behind hoping Weatherly finds someone better than me, someone who fits her society.
I walk away.
32
Dare
“How dare you use me!” she yells before I’m shoved in the back.
I turn around and grab Weatherly’s hand in the air before she has a chance to land it across my face. “I didn’t use you. You know I didn’t.” Fuck! Why can’t she just walk away? “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”
She reacts as if I hit her, blinking and then her anger returns. “I didn’t owe you that information.”
“You’re right. We didn’t owe each other a lot of things, but we shared anyway.”
I admire her profile—the delicate slope of her nose and her chin. Long lashes that fan across her cheekbones and pursed lips in pink. When her blue eyes meet my eyes, she says, “I wanted to tell you. I almost did before we . . . had sex, but I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“The moment? The night? What didn’t you want to ruin because from my perspective there was no possibility of it being anything but one of the best fucking nights of my life?”
“I thought you would see me differently and treat me like . . . Ugh. I don’t know. I wanted it to be like it is every other time for you. I wanted to be good, good enough to where you didn’t notice the difference.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I yell, my tone deep as exasperation sets in. “You deserved better than you got. I don’t know. Wining. Dining. Romance. We can always fuck, but we’ll never have that first time again.”
“I didn’t want any of that. I didn’t need it. Our first time, my first time was perfect to me.”
My ego has to put that chip back on its shoulder. “For the record, I noticed. I just thought you weren’t active in that sense.” Satisfaction isn’t found in my pride. Not with her. I’m struggling to push her away, though I know it’s for her own good. “Whether you are or were doesn’t matter anymore. You can’t see it now, but when I’m gone, you’ll see I’m right. You might even thank me one day.”
“Gone? Like nothing we felt or experienced matters? I guess I’m not as strong as you because I will never thank you for breaking my heart.” She comes closer and shakes her head, contempt written in her expression. “You said you’d never be a source of pain, and here you are hurting me more than they ever could, and you know why?”
I shift out of her reach. “Why?”
“Because I cared about you more than anyone else before.”
“I understand—”
“You understand nothing about me,” she yells and then looks at the sky where the clouds have rolled in.
“I understand enough to know you need to be surrounded by someone who cares about you. Really cares about your well-being.”
“And that’s not you?”
Stascia comes around the house, but when she sees us, she leaves us alone again. Backing up, I need to make the break and get away. “It can’t be, but promise me it won’t be Lloyd.”
“If you walk away, you have no say in who I spend time with.”
“He’ll never love you like. . .” The words “I do” stay locked inside my heart. I add, “Like you deserve to be.”
She finally lands a hard stare, leveling me to the spot. “I’m deserving of other people’s love. Just not yours? You know what? Leave.” She spits her hate. “Leave because I hate you anyway. I hate you with all my being, Dare Marquis.”
My goal has been achieved. I take one last look at the woman I know I’ve fallen head over fucking heels in love with but need to release so she can soar. Her hands are balled into fists at her sides, and her anger burns in her eyes. Good. “Anytime you think of me, remember this moment right here. Okay, babe?”
This time, I don’t get an argument. I get her back as she walks away. I used to be untouchable, hardened from the abuse of my father and the loss of my mother. But my chest aches in new ways, a vacancy growing with every step I take. I keep walking to spite these hateful people as if somehow I’ll win by leaving my heart behind. It will find a rightful home. That just can’t be with Weatherly and me.
The sky cracks open, and when the rain pours down, there aren’t trees to protect me. Or from the pain. So I lower my head, shove my hands in my pockets, and pass the expensive parked cars without a second glance.
If this is what a life of luxury means, then I want no part of it. I pull my phone out and text Lennox.
Me: Where are you?
Lennox: The valet parked my piece of shit down the street. He was busy, so I left to get it. I’ll be there in a minute. I finally found it.
Rushing across the lawn, I duck under a tree to avoid getting any more wet than I already am, but there’s no use. I’m already soaked. Staring at the front of the house, it was from this angle that my mom took the picture that hung on our fridge forever. I blink away the memory of her standing with her camera. Pepper pestering me with her head in the clouds crazy ideas. She never said she wanted to be a lawyer.
That’s what this world did to her. Instead of celebrating who she was, they aligned her with their goals. Well fucking done.
I’d rather live in poverty than have my dreams taken away from me. Guess they never knew that dreams came free.
Checking my phone again for a message from Lennox, I see minutes have passed without her, but time is still moving too slow. I need to get out of here before I change my mind. I look at this house that now haunts me and take a breath. This is for the best, I remind myself. This is best for her.
The rain works its way through the branches and leaves to find the top of my head, so I tilt down and close my eyes. My heart will heal . . . will it? Doesn’t feel like it.
Fucking hell, get here already.
“Dare?”
The pain in he
r voice rings through my hollowed chest. Me hurting is one thing. Her, a whole other. That’s not something I can live with even if I’m living without her. I look up and see her standing in the rain that’s grown heavier, not twenty feet in front of me.
The emotions that still connect us are reflected in her eyes. Tentative steps bring her closer, a delicate approach in uncertainty. She says, “I didn’t mean it. I don’t hate you.”
I can’t manage the right words. I know shame lives in the lies I told. Telling them in good faith, for her greater good, doesn’t change the pain I feel inside.
The horn of Lennox’s car is muffled, but it causes her to look that way. I confess, “I know you don’t. Just like you know how I feel about you.”
“I have a favor to ask. One before you go.”
There’s no way of me denying her anything I have the ability of giving her. “What is it?”
Her arms lift just away from her body and her head tilts back, closed eyes accepting the tears of heaven raining down on her. When her eyes return to mine, she taps above her heart. “There’s no music, but our song is always playing inside here. Dance with me, Dare.”
I push my own pain away and go to her. With one hand on her hip and the other holding her hand, we begin to sway. It may not last long, but while we dance, my cheek against the top of her head, I feel whole again.
A hiccup in her breathing and the stiffness to her frame gets my attention. I pull back just enough to get a good look at her, thinking it’s the last I’ll get.
But something’s wrong. Her lipstick smudged and her makeup not clean from rain, but smeared from tears. The more I stare at her, the more my heart quickens from seeing the damage done.
Mascara swiped to the sides.
The pink that was bright on her lips earlier beyond the borders.
A flaming red handprint across her face.
Grabbing her close, I hug her, then step back to see the rest of her as my blood boils from the realization that someone hurt her, hurt my girl.
The anger those heartless bastards caused earlier was tempered, but seeing her touched, mishandled in ways that would cause her pain has me ready to kill whoever dared to touch her. Careful, but firm, I caress her face and search her eyes. “Who did this to you?”
The tear gates open, and her body releases the flood of strength she’s held inside. “He said it wasn’t fair.”
“Who?” I ask, but I already know because I witnessed his tantrum out back. I’m running before she has a chance to confirm. Taking the steps by two, I barge in the front door and run down the hall. Stopping just inside the living room, I find Lloyd laughing with his buddies. They toast with fucking shots before they see me, giving me enough time to spot red scratches just above his collar and the same color of Weatherly’s lipstick on his shirtsleeve. “Motherfucker.”
I tackle him sideways like an animal attacking him. I land two solid punches to his face before I hear Weatherly scream. “Don’t do this, Dare. Please.”
Lloyd kicks me, but Weatherly is right there in the mix when I swing, so I yell, “Get back.”
She yells, “Don’t hurt him, Lloyd,” and then kicks him in the shins as hard as she can.
Yelping, Lloyd gives me an opening, and I take it, shoving him into a side table. A crystal lamp wobbles and then tumbles down, barely missing me, but hitting him on the chest before shattering to the ground.
English and Romeo pull me off before I get in another hit.
Held back by his friends, Lloyd tries to kick his legs as if that pussy move will do anything. “You’re a dead man, Marquis.”
“Fuck you! You can come after me, but you better fucking stay away from Weatherly.”
He wipes his hand under his nose, dragging blood across his skin. “I’m bleeding! You hit me. That is so lame.” He snaps his fingers. “Call my dad.”
“If you ever touch her again, I’ll kill you.”
“Hear that?” He’s lifted to his feet. “Did everyone hear that threat?”
Dragging me backward, English says, “Get your ass outside, Dare. These are not the jack-holes you want to threaten.”
“Fuck them.” I struggle to gain my footing on the slick floors. When I’m finally righted, they remain holding each of my arms and force me out the front door. I’m tugged onto the lawn across the driveway where they throw me down in the grass. “Fucking hell, it’s wet,” I complain.
“So are you, fucker,” English spits. “Cool the fuck off and get in the car. We’re leaving.”
When I get up, I’m covered in grass and debris. Fuck. These were new clothes. I can’t care too long because I’m missing Weatherly. I look toward the door as Lennox rounds the circular drive in front of me, but she’s not there.
The back car door flies open, and Lennox says, “Get in, Dare, before you get arrested.”
Romeo throws his hat in the ring, pissing me off, and adds, “Or worse, we get arrested because of that stupid stunt.”
The keystone cops security comes racing down the steps, yelling for me to stop, so I get in the car, and Lennox takes off. The guys are boisterous—laughter, hoots, and hollers not only fill the car, but the outside as they shout into the fifty-mile-an-hour wind.
I want to tell them to shut the fuck up because I left my heart behind with a girl who didn’t come after me. Not even to check on me. Why should she? I showed her exactly who I am deep down, played that hateful part until she hated me. But did she really tend to Lloyd? Shit. Did she choose the guy who hurt her . . . over me?
A sinking feeling has me slinking in the seat away from Romeo and pressed to the door. My head is out the window just enough to close my eyes and let the wind whip past me.
He hurt her physically.
I hurt her emotionally.
I knew the damage I was doing, and no matter how that bow is tied, it won’t make a prettier package. The ugly truth shines through, and I’ll never see her again.
“It’s what she needs,” I repeat, hoping to believe that can outweigh the damage I’ve done. It’s too hard to get past the fact that I don’t know what’s best for me, much less her. Did I fall for the bullshit those people fed like a canapé, served up on a silver tray? “Fuck!” I slam the bottom of my fist against the door.
Everyone goes quiet, causing me to look around. I see Stascia on the other side of Romeo. “What?” Nothing makes sense tonight. I turn to look out the back windshield as if we’re still there, but we’re long gone, Weatherly abandoned. “Why are you here, Stascia?”
Romeo snarls and wraps his arm around her. “She’s with me.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant why aren’t you with Weatherly? She needs someone on her side.”
Stascia looks at me nervously as though I’m the bad guy. Not Lloyd, but me. Some of the first words I ever spoke to Weatherly come back to haunt me—I’m your father’s worst nightmare. I wasn’t. The people he surrounds her with are.
I think those words rang true when I said them but were quickly rendered meaningless because I never expected to fall for her like I did.
Does anyone see love coming?
Weatherly Beck blindsided me, but to know that we have a history deepens our connection in a way that I couldn’t predict. How is it possible that she’s the same little girl I called Pepper?
I yank my phone from my pocket and call her. Despite everything I said to her, I needed to get out of there, but I can’t have her thinking I left her by choice. The phone rings . . .
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Voicemail.
Leaning forward, I say, “Stascia, call her. Please.” Even I can hear the desperation in my voice.
She’s calling before I finish my sentence. Holding the phone to her ear, she glances at me, but then stares at her lap where Romeo is resting his hand.
Of course, he fucking does. He’s picking up chicks when I’m losing my soul.
She hangs up and then her fingers are flying ov
er the screen. “No answer.”
“Is that like her?”
“We text more, but if we call, we usually answer. I just sent her a message.”
“Thanks.” I do the same, hoping she’ll read it.
Me: I’m sorry. Please tell me you’re all right.
I stare at the screen, willing those three dots to appear. Please. Please. Nothing. Like how I feel.
Stascia says, “You’re right. She wanted me to go, but what am I doing?” When she starts crying, Romeo says, “I’ll take you back.”
Lennox pulls into the driveway. “No way. We have ten minutes before we need to leave. Get your shit loaded because we have to go. We are not missing this gig.”
“I’m calling a rideshare,” she says, standing at the back of the car. “Where am I?” Romeo stays with her as we file toward the door.
Before we go in, I ask Lennox, “Do you mind loading my gear? I want to take a quick shower. I need to clear my head and get this dirt off me.”
“No problem.” Just inside the house, he turns back. “The right thing isn’t always the easiest.”
“It was wrong. I made the wrong decision. I should have stood by her, not abandoned her.”
He stares at me, recognition seen in his eyes, but an unfamiliarity circling. “You love her.”
Not an accusation, but a revelation. I nod, the words clogged in my throat.
He nods in return, then grins. “It was bound to happen some time. Even the mighty eventually fall.”
“In love?”
“In all things worth fighting for.”
I’m left standing on the front porch with his insight, amazed by how true his words are.
Unfortunately, time is running short, and I can’t let them down. We need the money, so I go inside to get ready, knowing I don’t have the time to make things right. But as soon as the set is over, I’m finding Weatherly. I need to know she’s okay. I need her to know that I love her.
