Change of Heart

by Scarlett Edwards

  I feel another spike of jealousy in my stomach. I’d only been eleven or twelve when Amanda first met Rich. They had a history together. He and I, on the other hand, had… what? A single night of passion followed by the worst kind of adventure possible? Knowing what I do now about the circumstances of that night, I can’t even be sure he was ever attracted to me. He just chose me because I looked like his sister.

  I’m being stupid, I know. Yet a tiny part of me held out hope that maybe the reason Rich came back to rescue me was that somewhere deep inside, he felt something for me.

  I shake my head in disgust. It’s a vain hope. And totally misplaced. Rich hasn’t shown any interest in me since. We’ve already spent two nights under the same roof. He’d just felt guilty about leaving me, that’s all. I’m sure the same thing would have happened with any other girl he picked out to fool Tam and Victor.

  “He has a sister, too, you know,” Amanda announces without warning. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you don’t. He doesn’t talk about her. Ever. But, the way you look just now…” Amanda laughs. “It’s kind of silly, but I swear to God, you remind of a picture I saw of her once.” She narrows her eyes. “It’s uncanny, really, now that I think about it. The resemblance between you two. Of course, she’d been younger than you in the picture, and her hair was longer…” Amanda trails off in thought. “It’s a wonder I only saw it now.”

  Something Amanda said caught my ear. “Rich doesn’t talk about his sister? Why?”

  “He blames himself for not being able to take her with him when he left New York. She’d been too young to understand the truth about their father. Richard didn’t want her to grow up in the same environment he did, but couldn’t just pick her up and go, either. She was still his father’s daughter, and underage besides. That would have been kidnapping.”

  “Has he talked to her since leaving?” I prod carefully.

  “I think not. When I met him, he always said he’d get in touch with her when she was older. Who knows?” Amanda looks back at the clock and grimaces. “And now,” she announces, “you’ve officially made me late for work.”

  “Sorry,” I say. “And thanks for the breakfast.”

  “Sure. Just clean up after yourself, will you? I hate coming home to a dirty kitchen. Oh! Don’t give any scraps to Mel, either. She’ll beg and whimper, but they’re bad for her.”

  “Sure thing.” I feel a little guilty for the pieces of food I’d been sneaking under the table to the retriever this whole time. “Amanda? Before you go, can I ask you something?”

  “Make it quick,” she says, shrugging into a jacket she’d left on the counter.

  I take a deep breath. “It’s about Rich. You don’t… still love him do you?”

  My question catches her off guard. She freezes in the motion of pulling the jacket over her arms.

  “No,” she says finally. “No, of course not.” She laughs, but it has an uneasy edge to it. “Why?” Her eyes suddenly become hard. “Do I give off that impression?”

  “No, no,” I retreat. “Definitely not. I was just making sure, that’s all.”

  “Well, that’s a rude, stupid question to ask,” she grumbles. “Forget what I said about cleaning up. Just… don’t touch anything while I’m gone, okay?”

  Before I have a chance to answer, she storms out of the kitchen. I hear the front door slam a few moments later.

  Mel whimpers and looks up at me. I scratch her neck. “What a mess,” I whisper to her.

  Despite Amanda’s denial, I can tell I’d struck a nerve. I know she definitely has feelings for Rich.

  Chapter Eleven

  I hear Rich’s truck in the driveway only a few minutes after Amanda leaves. The front door opens just as I round the corner to it. A wet, dripping Rich stomps in.

  “God,” he complains. “It’s a shit storm out there.” He shakes off his soaked jacket and throws it to the floor. Then he notices me.

  I don’t know if it’s just my imagination, but his eyes seem to light up when they land on me. “Look who finally decided to wake up! We missed you at breakfast.”

  I smile. “So I heard.”

  “Was Amanda still here when you woke? Good. I was afraid you’d get up and freak out with both of us gone. I wrote you a note—” Rich gives a sheepish grin, “—but I forgot it in my pocket when I left.”

  “Did you, now?” I ask, curious. “Let me see.”

  Rich hesitates, and then pulls out a crumpled, yellow Post-It from his jeans. The paper is soaked through. He hands it to me. I flatten it against my leg, then try to read it. The black ink has run.

  “‘Penny,’” I start, struggling to make out the letters, “‘I had to leave early but will be back. Rich.’” I perk an eyebrow at him. “Very poetic.”

  Rich snatches it from my hand. “Don’t make fun! I’m not one for long-winded letters.”

  “Clearly,” I say, following him into the house. Mel runs up to us and barks happily. I kneel down and rub her belly.

  Rich raises an eyebrow. “You’re friends with the dog now?”

  I give him a significant look. “Her name is Mel. And yes. She and I have taken a liking to each other.”

  “Quite the opposite of you and Amanda, huh?”

  “Actually, Amanda and I are getting along, too. We talked for a long time last night after you fell asleep.”

  Rich looks surprised. “You did? She didn’t mention that to me. Does that mean I won’t have to worry about leaving you two together anymore?”

  “I think I can manage,” I say. “Besides, if anything goes wrong, I’ve got Mel as backup.”

  “I don’t know if you want to test a dog’s loyalty to her owner,” Rich muses. “But I trust you’ve got enough sense for that.”

  “Finally you’re giving me some credit,” I say sarcastically. “So where were you this morning? Amanda didn’t know anything other than that you had to go run some ‘errands.’” I make air-quotes with my fingers. “Anything to do with what happened to us?”

  “Yeah,” Rich nods. “But let me change out of these wet clothes before I tell you.”

  He starts down the hall to our room. Before he shuts the door, he calls out over one shoulder, “Oh, and you’ll be happy to know that I got stitched up by a doctor.” He pauses. “Mom.”

  ***

  I decide to shower while Rich is changing. When I get back to my room, a towel wrapped around my chest, I find my old clothes gone from the bed where I’d left them. Instead, there’s an unmarked brown paper bag in their place.

  Curious, I open it—and find an entire set of new clothing inside. There’s a pair of dark jeans, a few plain blouses, and two t-shirts. There’s a black sweater a lot like the one I own, and—at the very bottom—a very skimpy set of blue-lace lingerie.

  I pick up the bra and inspect the tag. He got me a 34B. I smile. It looks like a perfect fit.

  “Rich?” I call out. “What did you do with my old clothes?”

  “I got you new ones!” he yells from somewhere far away. “What do you think?”

  “I haven’t tried them on yet!”

  “I figured you needed something to change into other than what you had on when you met me!” Silence. Then, without warning, the door creaks open and his head pops in.

  “Richard!” I spin around, clutching the towel to my chest. Blood rushes to my cheeks. He’d seen me naked, yes, but things have changed since then. “Get out!”

  “I want to see what you look like in your new clothes,” he says casually. I peek over my shoulder. He makes no indication of moving. It doesn’t help that the blush on my face is accentuated by a growing warmth between my legs.

  “Out,” I order him.

  He doesn’t move. He has a wolfish grin on his face. “I’m particularly proud of the lingerie I picked out. I got your size right, didn’t I?”

  “Out!” I scream, throwing a pillow at him. It smacks him right in the face. “Out, out, out!”

  “All right, all righ
t. Jeez.” He grins one last time before closing the door, not an ounce of remorse on his face.

  ***

  A few minutes later, I emerge wearing the jeans and sweater Rich got me. Everything’s a perfect fit. I find him leaning against one wall, arms crossed, eyes contemplative. When he sees me, the look fades. He flashes an easy grin.

  “So?” I ask, spinning to show off my new jeans and sweater. “What do you think?”

  “Spin around again,” he suggests.

  I offer a wry smile and do another little twirl. He laughs.

  “They fit you, all right,” Rich says. “Though dark colors aren’t really your style. They make you look kind of Goth.”

  I slap him on the arm. “You’re the one who got them for me!” Then I consider what he said. “And this isn’t even remotely close to Goth. I’d have to bust out so much eyeliner and shadow for that you wouldn’t even recognize me.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got some experience with it,” Rich teases.

  “I may have dressed up like a certain rock star one Halloween not very long ago,” I admit.

  “Really?” Rich’s eyebrows go up in curiosity. “Which one?”

  “Oh no,” I shake my head, “that is one secret I’m taking to the grave.”

  Rich laughs. “Fair enough. Why didn’t you put on one of the blouses, though? They’re brighter.”

  “In this weather?” I nod to the window. “There are so many clouds out there you can barely tell it’s day. Yuck.”

  “Good point.” Rich steps up to me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his body through our clothes. “And what about the lingerie?”

  I blush and turn away. “It’s still in the bag,” I lie.

  “Pity,” Rich says. “I’d imagine you’d make it look sexy as fuck.” His voice becomes a notch lower. “I was looking forward to seeing it.”

  “You’re going to have to try a bit harder than that to get me undressed,” I say playfully, pushing him away. He gives a bashful grin.

  “So!” I announce, changing the subject before things become awkward, “What did you do in town? Aside from undercover shopping and seeing a doc, that is.”

  In an instant, his expression turns serious. “Come to the living room,” he says. “I’ll explain things there.”

  More secrets? I wonder as I follow Rich through the halls. We sit down across from each other on two couches separated by a coffee table.

  “Well?” I prompt when he doesn’t speak right away.

  He looks very thoughtful before speaking. “I got in touch with my sister,” he tells me finally.

  “Did you?” I ask, surprised.

  Rich nods. “She was worried because I haven’t talked to her for a few days. Originally, I was supposed to meet with her last night.”

  “But you didn’t because of me. Right?”

  “Yeah. Coming back for you kind of screwed up our plans.” Rich meets my eyes. “Not that I regret it.”

  I smile a bit. “Thanks.”

  “Anyway, Min said she was fine—which was a huge relief.” Rich’s expression becomes withdrawn. “Sometimes I think she’d be better off if she hadn’t come to me. That way, I wouldn’t have endangered her by my…” he gestures vaguely in my direction, “…weakness for you.”

  My eyes widen at the comment, but he continues before I can speak.

  “But she did, and we’ve all got to live with it now.” Rich sighs. “I’m thinking of leaving you here while I go meet up with her.”

  “What?” I demand, caught flat-footed.

  “It’s not an easy decision for me,” Rich defends quickly. “But it’s made easier by what you told me when I got back. That you and Amanda are getting along. Before, I’d have hesitated just to ask. But now, well, this is the safest place for you, Penny.” He spreads his hands and tries to look placating.

  “Nuh-uh!!” I shake my head vigorously. “You have some nerve, Rich, you know that? Assuming you know what’s best just because you’re older.”

  He frowns. “I never said—”

  “Let me finish! I didn’t stay with you only to be left behind now. I didn’t stay with you so you could just dump me as soon as it became convenient for you.”

  “Penny, it’s not like that at all,” Rich stresses. I can tell he’s trying hard to stay calm. But, some of his irritation seeps through anyway. “I’m not ‘dumping’ you here—whatever that means—because it’s convenient for me. You think it’s convenient for me to ask that of Amanda? No! I’m asking you to stay because I know that here, you’ll be away from danger. Tam and Victor don’t know who you are. They don’t know we’re here. I would stay if I could. But I have to help Min.”

  “Let me come.”

  “No!” he barks. His hostility is unmistakable. “I promised I would keep you safe, and this is how I intend to do it. You will stay here.”

  I cross my arms, growing more and more furious by the second. “Oh, and you just presume you can tell me what to do, Richard?” I emphasize his full name. “You think you’re so damn smart, that you’ve got everything all figured out, just because you got into Princeton?”

  His eyes narrow. “How do you know that?”

  “Amanda told me,” I say recklessly.

  “Great!” Rich snaps, shooting up from his seat. “Just fucking great!” Mel bursts into the room, spurred by our raised voices. “Is there anything else your new best friend told you behind my back?”

  “Nothing that you need to know,” I fire back at him, catching Mel by the collar before she has a chance to get too excited.

  Rich starts pacing behind the couch, his strides long and angry. “Dammit, Penny! Why does everything have to be such a struggle with you?” He glares at me with hardened eyes. “Why can’t you just accept that I have your best interest in mind?”

  I laugh, my voice thick with contempt. “My best interest? You flatter yourself. What about when you left me with Tam and Victor?”

  Rich grips the top of the couch. Veins pulse up and down his tattooed forearms. “That was different,” he growls. “That was a mistake. That was before.”

  “Before?” I ask, not even trying to hide the scorn in my voice. “Before what?”

  “Before I figured out,” Rich begins, “I have FUCKING FEELINGS FOR YOU!”

  The words billow out of him like hot smoke from a chimney fire. The room goes quiet. Rich’s chest heaves with emotion.

  The only sounds to break the silence are Rich’s heavy breathing and Mel’s low, warning growl.

  I feel like I just stood up too fast. I’m stunned. I have to blink to clear my head. When I finally speak, my voice is quiet and shaky. “You… have feelings for me?”

  Rich stares right at me. His nostrils flare with each breath. The muscles of his forearm flex as he tightens his grip on the couch. “I… argh!” He spins around and storms out the room.

  A few seconds later, a door slams loudly from down the hall.

  I’m left alone with Mel. A nervous tightness begins to form in my chest.

  For a good long while, I don’t move. I don’t know how to properly react to this revelation. Rich has feelings for me? And he decides to tell me now, after trying to leave me behind?

  No. It doesn’t make any sense. He must have misspoke. He hasn’t made a single move on me since pulling me from the bar, and we’ve had plenty of time alone for him to do it.

  But… somewhere deep inside, a voice whispers to me that this was the real reason I’d stayed with him instead of ratting him out to the cops. Because somewhere along our twisted journey, I developed feelings for him, too. Because my heart knew what my mind did not.

  I do not know whether I should be excited or afraid. Rich is the worst thing for me right now. Yet despite knowing that—despite logically understanding that my self-preservation instincts should be driving me far, far away from him—I feel… a pull. To him. A magnetism that is undeniable. It had always been there, but I’d never had enough time to consider it before.
Now, with Rich’s proclamation…

  I stand up. My hesitation lasts only a second before I start down the hall. I need to talk to him.

  I stride to the only closed door I see and rap my knuckles against it. “Rich?”

  There’s no answer. After a moment, I pick up a faint, rhythmic sound on the other side. Thump, thump, THUD! Thump, thump, THUD!

  I knock again. “Rich, what are you doing?” I try the doorknob, find that it’s unlocked. “Rich, I’m coming in,” I warn before I open the door.

  The door leads to a large garage with a concrete floor. It has been retrofitted into a weight room. There’s a treadmill near me, a bench with some dumbbells beside it, and, at the far end of the garage… an old, brown punching bag.

  That’s where I see Rich. He’d torn off his shirt and thrown it to the side. His back glistens with sweat as he attacks the bag with unrelenting determination. Thump, thump, thump, thump, THUD! Thump, thump, THUD! THUD! THUD!

  I don’t think he’s noticed me. His jabs continue, growing more fierce by the second. THUD! THUD! The bag swings away from him and he catches it with a brutal left hook on its way back. I can see the faded scar on the outside of his shoulder. Every fiber of muscle in his body is showing. Each of his jabs releases energy like a coiled spring. He has the destructive energy of a hurricane.

  I don’t know if it’s best for me to talk to him like this. I’d seen how he can get angry.

  I start toward him anyway.

  He glances my way for a split-second. Then he grunts, turns his back, and continues attacking the punching bag.

  “Rich?”

  No response. His jabs become more forceful.

  “Rich.”

  Still he ignores me, focusing all his attention on what he’s doing. Each punch seems to rebound more loudly off the leather.

  “Rich! Rich, look at me!”

  He freezes mid-strike. He steps to the side, allowing the bag to swing past him. He keeps his head lowered and his back to me. His shoulders rise and fall with every breath.

  “Penny,” he says quietly. “What do you want?”