Deeper Than Need: A Secrets & Shadows Novel

by Shiloh Walker

  There was a faint pause.

  Then he heard the faint click of a glass being set down.

  “Again?”

  He closed his eyes, summoned up every bit of strength he had. He could look at her when he did this. It didn’t matter that she had the wine in front of her. He could do this. Had to. She’d given him her secrets … it was time he do the same.

  But the glass of wine was empty.

  Thank God. Blowing out a faint breath, he met the pale, soft grey of her eyes. He opened his mouth, unsure what was going to come out, unsure if he’d be able to even force the words out at first. But they were there … and they all but came pouring from him in a torrent. “Up until I was twenty-four, you would have had a hard time finding me sober. If the sun was down, it was entirely likely you’d find me in bed with whichever woman would have me.”

  Trinity opened her mouth. Closed it with an audible snap. “I … ah … what?”

  “You heard me.” Under the table, he opened and closed one hand into a fist, over and over, because he had to move, had to do something. Staring at the empty bowl of her glass, he said, “I can go days, you know … sometimes even a few weeks, but not much more than that, without really craving a drink. Today, though, I’m having a hard time.”

  Forcing himself to look away from that glass, he met her eyes, ready to all but beg her to understand. “Don’t ever offer me a drink, okay?”

  “Okay.” She nodded, said it again, her voice gentle, “Okay.”

  A heavy sigh escaped her, and then the weight that had settled over his heart eased when she reached over and took his hand. “I’m probably not as good at listening as you are, but do you want to tell me about it?”

  The words burned on the tip of his tongue, but part of him feared what she’d do, what she’d say, once she heard the full truth of it. You hypocrite, he thought sourly. He’d wanted the truth of her past. It hadn’t changed how he’d viewed her. Why was it so hard to give her that same faith?

  Turning his head, he stared outside, found his gaze on Layla. The manager had “escorted” her out there, although it had been more like crowded her out there until she really hadn’t had much choice. Now she was outside making a scene. A loud one.

  Noah knew why he was afraid to tell Trinity. His past was far uglier than hers. She’d ended up in a mess that somebody else had made. He’d managed to claw his way out of the pit where he’d been, but that pit was his own fault. He’d dug it, one miserable shovel full of dirt at a time.

  His gaze lingered on Layla as she continued to yell, her hands moving in time with her mouth as she berated the manager and anybody else who’d listen. “Layla wasn’t lying. I pretty much slept my way across town—if the girl would have me? Then that’s all I cared about. If there was alcohol involved, even better.”

  “Was…” Trinity paused, rubbing her palms together. “Well, you said up until you were twenty-four. You make it sound like you’d been drinking awhile.”

  He looked up at her. “Since I was seventeen. I started sneaking it from wherever I could get it. Back then, it wasn’t quite as hard for a kid to get his hands on booze as it is now. Even now, if you’re determined, you’ll find a way. I was an alcoholic before I even graduated from high school … and I barely graduated.”

  “What happened?”

  Lana.

  Ghosts of her voice came back to haunt him.

  Promise me.

  Shoving those voices to the back of his mind, he focused on the table. But the memory of Lana’s face, the way she’d looked as she smiled on that last day, continued to flicker in the back of his mind. “How hungry are you?”

  “Right now? Not at all.”

  He fished some bills out of his wallet to cover their drinks and a tip and then he stood up. She was already on her feet.

  One hand was reaching for him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  David was looking at her again. It was … weird. The way the guy watched Lana. It wasn’t like he was checking her out. Noah was used to guys looking at her like that, although most of them stopped after they realized Noah had seen it.

  “Why does he do that?” Noah asked abruptly, aggravated by it and trying not to be.

  “Who?” Lana looked up from the homework she hadn’t gotten finished the night before. She never got around to doing it when she needed to. Somehow, though, she still managed to pull off straight As.

  “David.” Noah jerked his chin toward him, but even as he did it he realized David was already leaving.

  Lana sighed, reaching up to rub her brow. “You don’t need to worry about David.”

  Noah clenched his jaw, wondered how he could explain that he wasn’t worried about David the way Lana thought. But sometimes … sometimes David worried him. He thought about the weird scars he’d seen on the kid, thought about a dozen other things.

  “I’m not worried like that,” he finally said. “But he watches you. It’s weird, baby. It’s really weird. It worries me.”

  Lana closed her book with a snap and then wiggled off the brick wall where they’d been eating lunch. “David just doesn’t have a lot of people to talk to. I’m about the only one.”

  “So he has to stare at you like he just found his missing puppy dog or something?” Noah shoved his hands in his pockets and wished he could settle the weird feeling that jerked in his gut.

  She looped her arms around his neck. “I much prefer it when you stare at me,” she said, grinning. “It’s like you’re seeing me naked again.”

  He went red, automatically reaching out to close his hands around her waist. His body reacted just as it always did and that was just great, because the bell was going to go off soon. She probably did it on purpose. “Stop changing the subject,” he said, pressing his mouth to hers.

  “What do you want me to say? I’m helping him out with some classes and we’re working on a project together. I’m just helping him, that’s all.” Lana combed her hand through Noah’s hair, teased the back of his neck, her nails scraping lightly over his skin.

  “It still doesn’t explain why he watches you like that.”

  Her sigh drifted across Noah’s lips. “I think it’s because he hasn’t had anybody to talk to. Not in a long while.”

  “He’s the football captain and he has half a dozen cheerleaders following him around. He can find people to talk to.” Noah toyed with the ends of her hair.

  “Being surrounded by people isn’t the same as having friends.” Her nose wrinkled. “Besides, he’s got some crazy shit going on. Bad things, Noah. Really. His parents, baby. I think I hate them. Everybody in town thinks they are wonderful, but they aren’t, Noah. They really aren’t. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  She rubbed her lips against his. “I want to know when we can get out to the park again.”

  All the blood drained out of his head.

  Just three weeks ago, they’d been out to the park. Just the two of them, a couple of blankets and a lot of fumbling. It had been the sweetest, craziest thing he’d ever done. It hadn’t been as good for Lana, he didn’t think, but at least she was willing to try it again, which they’d done, fumbling in the backseat of his car a week later. That had been a little better for her, he thought.

  “Soon, I hope.” He kissed her and then pulled away with a groan as the warning bell sounded. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Reaching out, he smoothed her hair back from her face.

  “Are we going out tonight?”

  Lana smiled at him, but the smile, pretty as it was, was a guilty one. She shifted from one foot to the other, and then finally, taking a deep breath, she blurted it out. “I can’t. I … I have to do something.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he studied that guilty expression.

  Do something, he thought. Yeah. Right. Lana was always doing something. Usually the kinds of something that got her in trouble. Burying the various animals that were supposed to be used for dissect
ion in biology. Painting advocacy messages across the doors of the high school.

  She did it with that same look he saw on her face now.

  “Just what are you up to now?”

  “Nothing.” She stared up at him, her face the picture of innocence.

  “Uh-huh.” Dipping his head, he pressed his brow to hers. “You don’t lie very well. Especially not to me.”

  She poked out her lip. “I lie just fine. You just don’t accept my bullshit the way others do.” Lana reached up and pressed her finger to his lower lip. “Look … I just…” She shrugged. “I have to do this, okay?”

  Do this. He shot a look past her shoulder, at the boy standing in the commons, surrounded by so many others.

  Because the jealousy had already reared its ugly green head, Noah decided to go ahead and ask. “It’s David, isn’t it?”

  “Noah…”

  “I just asked.”

  He didn’t like the way David looked at her. He knew Lana wasn’t messing around on him, she wasn’t like that, but Noah didn’t like the way David watched her. It was too much like the way Noah watched her.

  When she didn’t say anything, he knew he’d been right. Twining a fat red curl around his finger, he said, “Why are you seeing him?”

  “I’m not seeing him.” She made a face. “I’m helping him with something.” Then she slid out from under Noah’s arms and twisted away, looking around. When she turned back to him, the look on her face was serious, her eyes hard as stone. “Listen, Noah, you can’t tell anybody, okay? I know you don’t understand. Just … Noah, just trust me, okay?”

  He blinked. The urgency in her voice tugged at him and he caught her arm, pulling her close. “What do you mean?”

  “Just promise me you won’t.” She lifted a hand and pressed it to his cheek. “Please. Don’t tell, Noah.”

  Alarm blared in his gut. “What’s going on, Lana?”

  “I love you.”

  She pressed a kiss to him, hard and fast, as the bell rang. Then she was gone.

  * * *

  The memories rose up to choke him as he and Trinity came to a stop in front of the house. It was a long walk, in so many ways. Nearly a mile from the restaurant to here, made in silence, and each step of the way a memory rose up to slam into him.

  Now, standing at the foot of the steps, Noah gazed at that big old house, remembered that day when he’d come out here, despite his father’s attempts to keep him from doing it. He’d ignored the police tape and would have barreled inside if old Max hadn’t stopped him.

  Max hadn’t been able to keep Noah from seeing the bloody smears on the windows or the rusty stains on the porch. The lingering ache that had haunted him for so long had finally faded. But now he felt raw, exposed, as he stood there, ready to bare himself to the woman who was coming to mean everything to him.

  If they were going to have any chance at all, this talk had to happen. It had to happen now.

  Closing his eyes, he forced a breath past the band that had wrapped around his lungs, and then he turned his head and stared at her. The soft light of the fading day painted her skin a delicate gold and he reached up, cupped her skin.

  “I’ve got things I need to tell you,” he said gruffly. “Things that are almost impossible for me to talk about. But before I do…”

  He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to her lips, felt her soften against him, reach for him. He caught her wrists as she reached up to cup his face, felt the maddening beat of her pulse. “The past twenty years of my life have been nothing but a cloud. Everything was just … grey. There was no color, no light, no laughter. All that changed the minute you and Micah came barreling into my life. I don’t want to lose that.”

  “There’s nothing you’re going to say that will change what I feel. I…” She paused and blew out a breath. “Sometimes I get a little scared about just what I feel, considering that we really haven’t known each other that long. But … you felt right to me the first time I looked at you. Whatever you have to say to me isn’t going to change the man you are.”

  The words rested on his heart, almost painful yet still enough to make him catch his breath. Hope could cut deep sometimes.

  * * *

  “Can we go inside?”

  Trinity stood at Noah’s side as he stared at her house. It threw shadows across the ground and she felt their weight, like the shadows had been forged into her very soul.

  But looking at Noah, somehow, she realized the shadows went a lot deeper.

  Swallowing, she nodded. Then she stopped. “I … ah, I don’t have my keys.”

  He pulled his key ring out. “I’ve got a set. I had it with me from earlier.”

  “Okay.” She went to reach for it, but he was already walking toward the house. Something about the way he moved made her think he was on a mission—he had a focus, one he was bent on carrying out.

  Now.

  Following along behind him, she watched as he stopped just at the top of the porch’s steps, his head turning just a bit to stare at something along the side. She followed the direction of his gaze, but whatever it was he was looking at, she didn’t see it.

  He paused at the door, waiting for her, and they went inside together.

  Her heart lunged inside her chest, racing like it was trying to jump completely outside.

  “I hate this house,” Noah said quietly after he’d shut the door behind her. “I never did like it, even as a child.”

  She looked up at him, but he still had that focused, intent look on his face. “My father did some of the earlier rehab work on it, back about twenty years ago. After…” He stopped and reached up, rubbing a hand across his chest.

  She caught it before he could lower it completely.

  “After what, Noah?”

  He shifted his gaze down and met hers as they twined their fingers. “I don’t know why nobody has told you,” he murmured, lifting his free hand and cupping her cheek. “Why hasn’t anybody told you?”

  The knot in her throat was enough to choke her. Some tiny little voice inside her head whispered, Maybe you should leave.

  But the rest of her told her to take another step. So she did. She took another step and slid her free arm around Noah’s waist. “Maybe they were just waiting for you to do it. So why don’t you get on that?”

  * * *

  Waiting for you.

  Her voice was a soft, steady murmur over the roaring of blood in his ears. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on her and nothing but her, even as the memories tried to overwhelm him.

  Standing there, in the hall of that old house, half the walls stripped, while the shadows of twilight started to wrap around them, he settled back against the wall, keeping Trinity’s weight locked against him.

  “Her name…” he murmured, forcing the words out through a throat gone tight. “Her name was Lana. I’d known her pretty much my entire life and I think I’d loved her from just about the minute I saw her. We were in first grade.”

  He kept most of it as short as he could. Telling the woman he was falling for now about the girl he’d loved then was just … strange.

  Trinity listened, her arm curved around his waist, her hand slipping under his shirt to stroke his back. It was a slight, welcome distraction, and when the memories took too dark a twist, he would pause and think about how nice that felt, her hand gliding across his skin. It would help. For a minute. Then he’d have to start talking again.

  “She was coming here,” he said, and then abruptly he had to move. Trinity’s body tensed against his and he pulled away, gently nudging her aside before he started to pace.

  He found himself in the living room, bits and pieces of the police report he’d read circling through his mind.

  Pool of human blood—

  Floor of the living room along the northern wall—

  No weapon found—

  Crossing the floor, he knelt down and touched the floorboards. “They took the entire floor in here up after that. My
dad helped do so much of the work after that day. Yet they never found the body in the pantry, did they?”

  “Noah?”

  Hearing the confusion and the fear in her voice, he stood back up and faced Trinity. “Sorry.” He shook his head and blew out a breath. “I never talk about this. Even when I was supposed to, I never did. She was here. Lana. My girlfriend. For the longest time, she was everything. My world. She was…”

  He reached for the right words, but they just didn’t want to come. Finally, he said, “Have you ever known anybody who just collected strays? Cats, dogs … you name it?”

  “Yeah.” A ghost of a smile curved her lips. “My dad. He never keeps them or anything—he’s good at finding homes for them, but he’s very good at finding strays.”

  “That was Lana. But she didn’t just find animals. She found people, too. People in trouble, people who needed to talk to somebody. There was a little girl in second grade—she was being abused, but you’d never think it, because of her parents. Lana, though, she thought something was wrong. She managed to get the girl to talk … to my dad. Eventually they got her out of there, but not before the bastard broke her arm. If they’d listened to Lana and my father from the get-go, she never would have been hurt as bad as she was.”

  Noah moved over to the window, carefully avoiding looking down. The blood was no longer there. It didn’t matter. He could still see those swipes of blood. Max had all but dragged him off the porch, the wily old goat far stronger than he looked. Those smears of blood, the look of it dried on the glass, had lodged in Noah’s mind all this time, an ugly stain that still loomed larger than life after all these years.

  “She was always finding strays … always wanting to save somebody. Everybody. The world.” He blew out a sigh. “Then she found somebody she couldn’t help. Or maybe she did help, and she paid too high a price for it. I don’t know.”

  Floorboards creaked and he stiffened, then relaxed, as Trinity slid her arms around him. “What happened, Noah?”