Taunted Souls: A Friends to Lovers Romance

by Janice Ross

  I moved like the world was on my shoulders, cautious and worn down. Even as his eyes begged me to give in, I knew better. Ma’s words should’ve been my guide on how to navigate the universe, but Lucas stepped closer. He wore me down by simply being this amazing guy.

  —————

  SHAYNA

  THIS GUY, LUCAS, I didn't know what to make of him. He put off this aura which was deeper than any other I've ever known. For whatever reason, my guard came down. No way I’d ever let that happen, and I wouldn't allow myself to give him any kind of hope.

  On the ride back from Chesapeake, neither Emma nor I spoke. She tuned the station to JBR and allowed the tunes to filter around as I took time in driving. I always wondered about her choice of music, since it wasn't about more trendy or recent songs. Don't get me wrong, I've seen her bust it up to just about any type of music—recent or older—it's just that the deeper ones fed her in a different way.

  I thumbed at the wheel in a mindless motion, paying slight attention to our route since we'd finally made it to familiar ground. Emma began humming underneath her breath, then progressively increased her tone. A smile crept across my face.

  “I saw you,” she sang.

  “Saw me when, where?” I croaked, knowing good and well what she was referring to.

  “Don't play dumb, Shay. That guy from the Cajun spot, the one with the asshole friend . . .”

  I launched my teeth to my bottom lips to keep from smiling, laughing or immediately reacting in any way that would put her on alert. But at the mere thought of what I was deceptive about, every inch of me sparked.

  “He's hot.”

  “C'mon, girl, I can't go there.”

  “Why not, Shayna? You gotta live a little.”

  “I'm not there yet.”

  “Why aren't you yet? Every time I see you with him, you guys are on fire. I need a better reason.”

  “Just not ready to go there.” Too much had taken place for me to just get involved with someone. At the mere thought of this risk, butterflies formed inside of my chest. My thumbing turned to nervous shivers.

  She slapped hard on the dashboard. “That shit back in Florida is dead, gone.”

  “Emma, what the hell are you talking about?” I swung the car into the parking lot and immediately shut it off. I teetered with the ideal of going home or staying at my friend's house, which was the initial plan. This type of pestering however, would cause too much grief. “I can bring your car back tomorrow.”

  “Don't get childish. I always have your back. I always look out for you.” She launched over the division to snatch my hand off of the wheel. I didn't pull away.

  “I appreciate the sisterhood. You're my sister, but I'm not ready to get in a relationship.”

  “Then get a hookup. You're young; live a little.”

  “I'm. Not. There. Yet. Please understand, Emma.”

  “Keep him close, at least. You two have chemistry, babe. Besides, you never know what the future holds.”

  The future? It wasn't at all possible for me to plan ahead. Hell, I had yet to get over my past. The chemistry was undeniable and yes, I had to admit the connection was fierce. It had to end there though.

  —————

  SHAYNA

  OUR CONVERSATIONS gave me life! I still tried to remind myself that I couldn't allow this thing to grow too much, but the connection was unreal. I found myself needing Lucas's friendship. Yes, needing. The short bit of time he'd occupied my space gave me hope in something. I fought it, God knows I did. Perhaps, that’s why I maintained everything but “that” ultimate thing. So a friendship was all I'd allow, nothing more.

  The following week, as I prepared for an interview at a local community center, my iPhone buzzed. Not many people texted me; in fact, no one really had my number. And it struck me. I thought of him and my heart jumped.

  Lucas!

  We’d exchanged numbers at Chesapeake early that morning when Lucas had let me crash onto him instead of into the river. I couldn’t bring myself to be the one. Even when a guy shows some kind of interest, you never truly know what he’s really after. That night, he’d used my phone to call his. Went so far as to attach his name to the number, to make sure it was saved. I was fricken out of touch with all things related to dating.

  When I’d left home in Port St. Lucie, I’d walked away from a guy I once swore was “my future.” That time seemed like a long-forgotten dream; actually, personal nightmare was more realistic. Everything I once treasured had died. In a way, so did I. But this guy Lucas fed a need I thought was buried. And then just as suddenly, as light funneled into my dark world, another text came in.

  Mom: Please call.

  The request was her way of demanding my immediate attention. Communicating with my mother before an interview wasn’t wise. Unlucky for me, she was super-persistent and stubborn as hell.

  I took a deep breath and called. “Mom?”

  “Are you planning to move back down here anytime soon?” She spoke like we were in a business meeting.

  From the window in my bedroom, a cool breeze whisked in. Good thing, because my pulse had increased. Beads of sweat had already started forming. I exhaled into the line. “Mom, you know I’m not coming, and maybe never moving, back to Florida. No.” What would be the purpose? Van aside, I needed to be away.

  “Fine. I hope you’re not with some man. They’re all horrible. Besides, you’ll never find one to love you. It takes a special type of girl to keep a man faithful ,” she snarled and laughed. After her bullshit act of caring, she always found a way to make me feel lower than dirt. Seriously, my own mother couldn't seem to feed me an ounce of positive energy.

  My thumb itched to slide across the bottom of the screen, and forget I ever had a parent still living. I didn’t need a reminder that I was born, especially not to her. Being my only remaining parent, claiming zero paternity might work. Let’s just say osmosis.

  I felt a need to love and show how much, but she made it so damn difficult to do so. My attempts at being a supportive daughter had only backfired. Sure, I'd ran away at a difficult time. Actually, I wouldn't call that running away. I was an adult; therefore, I made the choice to protect me since she was no longer able to. Now we were down this road once more. As much as I sought to be there for her, from a distance nonetheless, my sanity was on the line.

  “Mom, I’m heading out for an interview,” I cut into the line.

  “Doing what exactly?” she barked.

  “Training with a social worker.” I paused for the courage to proceed. “I’m training to be a counselor.”

  “Counsel who?” Mom burst out into laughter in my ear.

  “Are you kidding me?” My question cut at my throat and shredded my insides. How could a mother have such a low opinion of her child? I know that I was anything but perfect, so why was it difficult to care enough about your flesh and blood to do better for her sake.

  “Shayna, dear, listen to me. Don’t aim high. Happiness is only meant for good people.” She literally got choked up between the laughter and words. My insides dropped. A wave of sadness flushed over me. But then she stated, “And even if you’re fortunate enough to find happiness . . . it won’t last.” She slashed me in every direction. I tried not to breathe, in hopes of not being affected.

  The words . . .

  One after the other, warm tears rolled down my cheeks. They didn't subside or slow down, but instead built momentum. Every shred of hope washed away with the moisture. I gasped and clutched for me chest. The phone slipped through my fingers. Could life be so cruel to bait anyone only to rip them apart in the process?

  I absolutely hated my mother’s world, yet couldn’t bring myself to hate her.

  No way.

  She’d lost the only man worthy to be loved, in her understanding of things. Her life, all hope, ended with him. What she now projected onto me wasn’t meant to do anything more than save me from a fate she’d already endured.

  Did I
need to be happy? Honestly, what was happiness anyway? Perhaps the falling in love and getting to a satisfying place wasn’t meant for everyone, or just not meant for me, specifically.

  —————

  LUCAS

  SOMETHING INSIDE of my heart had been dormant for as long as I could remember. In fact, I think it was something I’d instigated. My emotions, the same ones that I’d kept locked away from everyone, were never exposed.

  One day at the age of nine, after everyone else had been picked up from school, I’d waited for my parents to come for me.

  They never did.

  As a child, I can't remember the signs. What the hell did I do? Really though, how was a child supposed to fully understand? My mother would hum me to sleep; my father was direct and I want to believe I obeyed. Regardless, I was young. They had no right to abandon an innocent child.

  One day I had a family of my own. The next day they were gone. They disappeared, as if they were not even real to begin with.

  Never came back for me.

  Never.

  I came to be alone in the world, as the system took me from home to home. For a child who once had hope, I believed in nothing and expected even less. Years later, when Bash and Rory came along, I allowed myself to believe in the idea of family once again. They were all alone in the world too. We needed a circle. Some type of connection to our humanity. This wasn't the same, but helped me cope on a social level. They looked out for me; I did the same for them.

  And now Shayna. She made me want to belong in a different way after I'd already come to terms with a null and void existence. The girl had a vulnerable side that tried to stay hidden. I wanted to rub out the walls and expose every damn ounce of her reality, if she’d just let me. I had no intention of begging any woman to be mine, but damn! Shayna wasn’t just any woman.

  Never thought there was much to do in this state, but whenever I needed to clear my mind, she showed up. This was a new phenomenon. I could tell something was up when I first answered the call.

  “Hey,” she mumbled, in a breathy, exhausted way.

  “You're busy?”

  “Not really. Well, actually, I had an interview.”

  “Had? Did they cancel at the last minute?”

  “No.” A fresh breath that I could almost taste rushed through the cell. “Not sure I'm the right person for the job.”

  “Why?” I closed my eyes to picture the innocent glow of her pupils and timid way she'd nibble on her lips.

  “Do me a favor, Shayna.” In my mind, her tender chin was cupped in the palm of my hands. I wish I could've stood by her side, to offer whatever her heart desired. “First off, what’s the job?”

  After clearing her throat she stated, “A counselor. There are too many people hurting in this word. They don't have anyone to talk to. I just thought I could help, just wanted to be . . .” She needed a friend. I could be much more, but gave what was necessary now.

  “Go to your interview, and then meet me for lunch.” I'd already made up my mind that this was going to happen.

  I chose Aqua Sol, a Cuban Miami restaurant, off an older marina. It was hidden away like the spot where I’d caught her that night. I’d only been there once before, but knew enough to know she’d love the food.

  I never cared about these kinds of things, but look at me now. I no longer wanted to be alone. I no longer wanted to watch others in happy mode, even if their lives were anything but. I craved a slice of anything more than the hand I’d been dealt.

  I waited in silence for her answer. Kept my mouth shut. Made it a point not to pressure her decision, though it had to be yes.

  It had to be.

  “Okay, yes.”

  —————

  SHAYNA

  LUCAS WAS MAKING a difference in my day. He reached in to pull me out of loneliness. The one thing I was certain about when it came to him was that he was dangerous for my heart. I think everyone might reach a stage in life where they love someone so much that the emotions can literally shred them the inside out. I once felt love for my dad, perhaps even my mother before she turned on me. My first boyfriend from back home, now he was a different story because he was envied by many, although our relationship just existed. Sometimes I wondered if there was something wrong with me.

  —

  “Didn’t take long for you to get here,” Lucas pointed out, pulling into the available spot next to my ride. A badass grin crept across his sexy lips, like he had a huge secret or something. His hair was tousled; the glow from the fading sunlight gave him a kind of mysterious look. He wore a navy-blue tee with slacks.

  “I knew where to go,” I replied all in one breath, suddenly feeling lightheaded. He reached over to whisk away a strand of hair that had blown onto my forehead, even though I’d forced my hair into a wild bun. My mom had kinda put me in a mood, so I’d just pulled myself together the best way I knew how.

  “You’ve been here before?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did you find it?”

  “It’s probably best to ask Emma that question. She could find a drop of water in hell.”

  We both smiled and laughed, just a little.

  “One day, my friend came up with an idea to write out all of our problems, or pretty much anything that had stressed us out in the past. She had this idea for us to fill balloons and release them into the air. That was supposed to be symbolic of letting go.” I tried to open up as we remained in the parking lot, next to his Camaro.

  “You got it bad like that?” His question jabbed at me. I knew he wasn’t trying to be malicious or anything, but damn. If he only knew.

  I spun to face the entrance to the deck, where a live band had started playing island tunes. This could’ve been the perfect type of night. He might’ve been the perfect type of guy to do the happy hour thing or date thing with, but I wasn’t yet the perfect type of girl. In fact, I’m not sure that I’d ever be.

  While I paused to keep from getting swept into the emotions riding me, his fingers landed on the inside part of my arm, on the opposite side of my elbow. My reaction was to yank back, without thinking.

  “Shayna, don’t be scared of me.” He didn’t ease up on me, not until I turned to him. I kept my head low, my eyes on my freshly painted red toes. “You need to stop being so uptight. Every chance you get, you’re pushing me away. How are we supposed to get to know each other?”

  I listened, but what registered the most was this idea that we were supposed to get to know each other. “Get to know how?” I asked, slowly stepping backwards.

  Lucas followed. “Am I the only one that’s interested like that?” His fingers grazed mine. I yanked my entire arm from him.

  “Like what? Lucas, I’m only interested in a friendship. I have way too much to work on before I can get into the mindset of working on anything with anyone.” I meant what I said with every fiber of me.

  Don’t get me wrong. I would’ve loved to go there with him. Lucas seemed to be a good guy; the kind of guy deserving of a girl with a steady head on her shoulders. He should’ve had a girl who was able to make his life better.

  That was something I couldn’t promise. There was way too much hurt inside of me to think about anything other than a friendship.

  “So what are we doing here?” This time he added distance. His hands reached up and to the sides. “I give up.”

  “Lucas, I’m not in a good place now.” What the hell was I supposed to say? Could I lay out the fact that I’d just had to run away from South Florida after witnessing what might’ve been a murder? Or that Emma had handed down her own breed of justice? Since we left, I’d been curious enough to wonder about what had gone down with Van and Axel after we’d left the scene, but that was it. I didn’t Google or search out the news. I drew the line there. I wanted to forget, but I had to be mindful that someday this mess might explode in my face.

  Did I want Lucas to get drawn into my past?

  Of course not. It was mine to deal wi
th, not his.

  “I only need a friend.” I caught his eyes with mine. The setting was perfect. In fact, the evening had begun settling in just right. Daylight hung on in the distance, giving me hope in this guy I wanted to grow accustomed to.

  Lucas didn’t dispute; instead, he bit on his lips, staring off into the beautiful sky. I put one foot ahead of the other without looking back and hoped like hell he’d follow. When asked how many people, I turned to my left and exhaled as his shadow appeared. He didn’t speak again until the seating hostess confirmed we wanted a table for two.

  I couldn’t stand the silence though. Taking a deep breath, I thought about something, anything possible to keep our conversation interesting. So I asked, “How does a guy know when he’s ready?”

  “This way,” the hostess stated, directing us to a cozy table at the middle of the outdoor deck.

  Once seated, I read his face. Kind of seemed like he was trying to read mine too. But he was thinking; I saw the wheels turning. However, I waited for the waiter to deliver our glasses of water and run through the specials. We ordered drinks and requested a few minutes to review the selection of food.

  “I always get the half portion of salmon, yellow rice, yucca chips and sweet potato fries,” I offered.

  “Don’t want to try something different?” he asked, his stare burning into me.

  I set my eyes up, down, and sideways to keep from looking at him straight ahead. If only he knew how plain I really was. I changed the subject back to my question as a fast-paced island song blasted away his remarks.

  “How does a guy know . . . when he’s ready?”

  “What do you mean, Shay?” His movements were almost mechanical while he reached for his water and placed the water to his lips.

  Placing my fingertips on his forearm, I explained, “I always thought you guys were all about fun, but then someone like you comes along.”