I stood, frozen on the spot, looking at a woman curve her slender, perfect body around Deklan and throw her head back and laugh at something she’d said. I stood watching the twinkle in his eye that guys get when someone as beautiful as she was pays attention to them.
It was stupid of me to think that what happened with Deklan and me—what he did, how he made me feel—meant that he would like me or care for me as I did him in the short time we’d known each other. I knew deep down the reason why I was clinging to him, but I refused to try and self-diagnose myself any more than I already had. I was not pretty or outgoing and charismatic. I was a liar who didn’t love herself enough to be…herself. My hip bones stuck out, my thighs were gross, and now, after last night, I would have scars on my chest—the one thing I loved—that would probably never go away. Who wanted that? Not Deklan. Not anyone.
I stared long enough for him to look up and catch my eye and try and make his way over to me. I quickly bolted to the one place I knew he wouldn’t be able to come, the break room, which was empty at this time of day. I slid down to my knees and hid behind my locker. I acknowledged that the way I was feeling was insane. I shouldn’t have cared that he was flirting or being flirted with or whatever. I tried to rationalize with myself in an attempt to calm my racing heart. I knew this was going to happen. I mean, I couldn’t be happy, ever. It was just not what fate had in store for me. Lonely and unloved and a punching bag for the world—those were my cards.
But he had made me happy even if I didn’t mean to him what he meant to me. For the little while that I’d been with him, walking, kissing, smiling, I was happy. And if that was all I would ever have, then I was glad I’d had that. At least…at least I got to feel a little of what I so badly wanted all my life. To feel wanted. Loved.
“Harley,” he boomed, his voice outside the break room door, jarring me out of my self-pitying spiral. He raised his voice a notch. “You have it all warped.”
The break room wasn’t that big. He could have whispered and I would have heard him. I said nothing, though. I mean, what could I say? It’s cool, flirt with or sleep with whoever you want. It’s not like we had something. Only, we kinda did, or at least I thought we did. I knew what we had done was classified as “something,” but it wasn’t nothing either. He had said we weren’t done.
“Dammit, Har, answer me.” His fist connected with the door, making me jump. It was too much like I was hiding from her, and it made my blood pump double time to my heart. My chest tightened, and my palms started tingling, and I knew it was happening again. I felt my breathing start to labor and my vision start to blur. I should be used to this, the disabled feeling I got that was usually associated with panic attacks, but I wasn’t, and each time I had one, it took me longer and longer to be okay. I tried starting some breathing exercises that I read about in a self-help book that helped a few times in the past, but it wasn’t working. I was vaguely aware of the door opening, and I saw the scuffed-up black boots stop in front of me, but I couldn’t look up. I couldn’t look up at who I knew had scared me in both good and bad ways and see the look on his face.
“What was that shit out there about? I come to see you, and you take the fuck off?” he asked.
I said nothing. I focused on the pea-green paint splatter on the floor from repainting the break room three years ago and wondered why we never did try and remove it.
“Harley?” His tone was demanding. “Answer me.”
Still, I said nothing. Whatever we had, it had already gone to hell, so him seeing me like this only solidified it. Which was for the best. People like me, we didn’t get a happy-ever-after.
So I focused on those stupid-as-shit breathing techniques, hoping that they would kick in and I would calm down before I passed out. He knelt down and reached out, and not going against my nature, I flinched, hitting the back of my head on the locker.
“Shit, Harley, are you okay?” He reached out again, and I was back to the night two years ago when I had been hiding in the closet from my monster’s rampage and she’d found me and, in a similar squat as Deklan, reached out and squeezed her hands around my windpipe until I started to see black spots.
I shrank back against the lockers and wrapped my arms protectively around myself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I whispered like a broken record. The doorbell will ring, making her stop like before. The doorbell will ring and she’ll let go. I know she will.
“Harley?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the cold look in her eyes as my apology for whatever I had done to anger her went unheard. It was the look that I saw every time and reminded me that no one loved me, no one wanted me, least of all the person who was supposed to be guaranteed to love me and didn’t.
I might as well be dead.
That was the first time I’d thought about it, the first time I’d entertained the thought for more than a minute, because before that night, I’d had some thought that my mother was the way she was because she didn’t have anyone to love her, and that if I just loved her, she would love me. But that was before she was cutting off my airway and something in her snapped. I knew she would have kept squeezing until I passed out, until I stopped fighting, until I was dead. So I thought, I might as well be.
“Harley, breathe, baby, relax.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I could almost feel her fingers closing around my neck, squeezing what she thought was defiance out of me. I wanted to give up, let her win, let the darkness overtake me. I wanted to just let go.
“Harley, snap out of it.”
I squeezed my eyes tighter, blocking out everything and praying that this would all be over soon. This fear, this rapid-heartbeat, panic-inducing, paralyzing fear would be over and I could breathe again because I was sure my body couldn’t last much longer in this state. I tried to conjure up my happy moments—Deklan’s smile, the feel of his lips on mine, his stormy eyes—but it was too late. I let her win. But not before hearing the “Fuck!” roar in the distance.
Chapter 24
Deklan
Fucking shit!
These last few days were turning out to be a real shit stain. I wished I could get a fucking do-over. Shit.
Yesterday, after leaving Harley at work, I went back to see my mother since Matty had pissed me off, which had caused me to dip out early. I was too jazzed from that fucking kiss to try and find anyone else to match that shit. I didn’t want to forget myself in just anyone’s pussy. I wanted it to be Harley’s, not because I knew she was a virgin and that pumped my ego. Nah, I had de-virginized a few of those; it was nothing special to me now. No, Harley brought out something in me that I didn’t even know was there—feelings. I had some kind of feelings for this girl that I couldn’t really explain to myself and didn’t really want to. All I knew was that the feelings I had for her went far beyond my dick and me smashing her, owning her, for the night. I wanted to own her for much, much longer, to protect her. I wanted to keep her.
That feeling caused me to text her like a fucking school kid with a crush asking about book recommendations like a pussy. I didn’t tell her that I already read that series she was talking about. Instead, I said what I was thinking, like a dumbass, and figured I went too far when she didn’t respond. I was being too fucking eager. I needed to ease up, but fuck, with her it was hard. I wanted her.
Matty’s voice floated up the stairs just as I reached Mom’s door. Fuck, I’d hoped I popped his ass hard enough yesterday that he would still be unable to flap his lips. Shit, shouldn’t have held back.
“Dek, we need to talk.” He rounded the last corner and landed on the top step, standing tall like he was about to square up and shit like he didn’t remember that throat punch.
“About?” I asked, shooting him a message by not turning around. Let him get one in if he was going to rush me. It’d be the last fucking hit he got.
“Today, for starters.”
“Said what I had to say al
ready.” I reached for the door again, but he kept fucking talking.
“Think about this. You’re a Kane. You can’t just bring anyone in here. I like Har, I do, but from what Ember has told me about her, you’re better off, and me telling you of all people this is saying something.” He moved closer as I tracked him out of the corner of my eye.
A muscle ticked in my jaw. I knew that muscle; it usually went wild when I was about to lose my fucking temper. It came out often in this house. I breathed in deeply, then turned to face my little brother, the same little brother who would come into my room at night when it would storm and would sleep curled up next to me. Yeah, he turned out to be a dick and a fucking traitor.
“I don’t give a shit about ‘being a Kane,’ and you don’t know a goddamn thing about Harley.” Whoa, those fucking feelings were gearing up for a fight. Over a girl. I was so fucked, and I hadn’t even smashed yet! I grabbed my dick to adjust it and to make sure I hadn’t lost it when I heard the precise steps of someone I hated more than my brother.
“Deklan, before you go and say what I’m sure is your final good-bye to your mother, we need to clear up some things,” Royce’s voice rang out. Why was everyone being so fucking talkative all of a sudden?
“When you leave,” he continued, “know that it will be with nothing. I will not be including you in my will, nor will I leave you money in a trust fund. You have been nothing but a disappointment with your life choices, and I will not allow any part of my hard-earned money to be placed in your hands just to be thrown away on that car of yours or the shitty-ass lowlifes you choose to associate yourself with.”
The thing about Royce was that he could always sound like he was cutting other people down while cutting you down at the same time. He was a special kind of dick that way. I gave literally zero fucks about what he gave me and didn’t give me in his will. I stopped wanting anything from him the first time the fist flew, and there was nothing he could do to get me to budge on that. I was going to say good-bye to my mother because she loved me, and I loved her and I would miss her, but after? He was about to get the business.
Gritting my teeth, I turned and stared directly into his eyes for a hard-ass minute. I gave him my most intimidating look, like the look he used to give me, and I waited for him to say another fucking word. When he only looked at me expectantly, I nodded, then pushed my way into Ma’s room, where I found Greta adjusting the bedding.
“She’s really weak today. It will happen soon,” she said to me quietly before exiting the room, leaving me alone with my mom.
Susan Kane had been a beautiful woman. I know everyone thinks their mother is beautiful, but mine was. She had dark brown hair that had once shone even on her worst of days and warm eyes that always crinkled at the corners when she laughed, even those fake laughs she did at functions or when someone told a stupid-ass joke. That was Ma. Always polite and doing the right thing. I loved her despite what she may have thought, and even if she couldn’t hear me, I had to get this shit off my chest before she faded away.
I grabbed her hand and stroked it for a few minutes, working my throat to get this shit out. I had never said this out loud to anyone, not even myself.
“Mom, I want you to know that I love you and you may think that you didn’t do right by me with all the shi…stuff that went on here, but you did and I know you loved me. I know you tried, and for that I’m better for it. You were all I had, and for that I will always love you.”
I choked back emotion in my throat as I bent down and kissed my mom one last time. She breathed heavily but didn’t open her eyes. I stayed for a few more seconds, memorizing this moment, her features that were now gaunt, and then lowered her hand and walked out.
I was greeted with a sneering Royce and my somber-looking baby brother and let the emotions and anger that I suppressed a moment ago loose and clocked the shit out of Royce, then walked the fuck out of that house and away from Royce and his fist and the words that couldn’t fucking touch me anymore.
First thought when I woke up this morning: I needed to see her. I felt free. I didn’t care what people said about not feeling something when you finally let loose on the person who had wronged you for years. I couldn’t even lie; that shit felt good. I rode up to Har’s job, figuring I would pop up on her and make my day, only when I got there, she had a big-ass black cloud over her head—her hopelessness was that fucking palpable. I watched her for a few, letting my decision that wasn’t even a damn option at this point sink in when a blonde with big albeit fake tits popped in my line of sight.
“Hey, you ready for that full ride?” she asked in some sultry, whiney voice girls think makes guys hard. It doesn’t. It took me a moment longer than she probably liked for me to know who the hell she was.
“Juicy.” I knew that wasn’t her real name, but fuck if I knew what it was.
“Ashley,” she corrected, then placed her hand on my chest and moved in closer. “I can be juicy, real juicy.” She threw her head back and laughed a throaty laugh that at any other time would have had my dick primed and ready, but not today. That shit wasn’t even remotely funny. Not when I was focused on something else, someone else.
I saw the moment this little scene went to shit. It was the moment I looked up and caught sight of Harley and the look in her eyes right before she turned on her heels with the wrong idea in her fucking head and jetted away from me. I removed Juicy’s hand and, without an explanation, took off after Harley.
After getting in the break room where she’d closed herself up in and finding her right before she totally passed out on me, I knew the decision I’d made earlier to ask her—no, demand her—to tell me what was going on with her was the best fucking decision in the world right now.
Chapter 25
Deklan
After making up a bullshit explanation to her boss, I deposited a still passed-out Harley in the passenger seat of my car and took off to my hotel.
She remained passed out the whole ten minutes it took me to get to the shitty hotel and still when I laid her on the unmade bed from this morning. I stared at her, trying to work out what the fuck she had been babbling about before she passed out, something about the doorbell and that she was sorry. I knew something wasn’t chill with her, and after what had just gone down, she wasn’t leaving my fucking sight until I knew. She stirred and let out a small whimper that made me want to punch shit. I needed to square up with someone or put my dick in something wet to deal with all these emotions today. I stalked over to the bathroom and ran a cold shower, because even though she was passed out, she was in my bed, and shit, that did make me think of other reasons why she would be in my bed, why she should stay in bed.
I needed to clear my head. I didn’t get like this, all soft and shit over a girl. A girl who clearly had more issues than I was comfortable dealing with. But all of that drew me to her more, and fuck me if I didn’t want to take her and hold her on one arm and fight the fucking world with the other, and that shit was…scary. After taking a longer shower than necessary, I threw on some clean clothes and walked out, only to find Harley awake and looking like she had just been kidnapped by some asshole. Asshole? Part true. Kidnapped? More like saved.
“Where am I?” she asked, moving slowly into a sitting position like I would pounce on her if she made any sudden movements.
“My hotel.” I leaned against the bathroom door, making the exit clear to her. If she wanted to run, she had a chance.
“Why did you bring me here?” She looked cute confused. Cute? What the fuck.
“You passed the fuck out on me,” I explained, and I saw the recognition on her face followed by humiliation, then shame. “Nope, that’s what you won’t do with me,” I said.
“What?” she asked distractedly. Trying to fall into herself again? Negative.
“You’ve got shit to be ashamed of, so stop. Shit happened, I dealt, it’s cool. What is not cool is how you keep avoiding my questions as to why. And who, that’s what I’m about.”
She sat there and said nothing, and I thought about staying true to my earlier declaration of fucking it out of her, but I saw now that that wasn’t the way to go. Not that she wouldn’t let me. Nah, she wanted this, but she would just close up more once it was over, and for some strange reason, I didn’t like that shit.
So I waited for her to decide whatever she needed to decide about confiding in me, which took a whole twenty minutes, and when she finally looked at me with a mixture of resolve and sadness, I thought I heard her mumble a good-bye before she blew my fucking mind.
She sighed and pulled one arm through the sleeve of her loose-fitting T-shirt, then did the same with the other, and looking at me, she lifted the shirt over her head, and I lost absolute control over my anger.
Someone was getting their shit split the fuck open.
Chapter 26
Harley
I must have done something horrible in my past life to have been dealt with this one. I must have been a baby murderer or something, because I never understood why I was born. I didn’t see the big picture my life had or would have, and it must have meant that there wasn’t one. There were no hopes or aspirations I strived to be, other than free from this horrible life I lived, and I thought college was out of the question to try and make myself a part of the bigger picture. So the only thing I had to offer the world was to tell people how to take blows to the face and stomach without blacking out and how to effectively hide bruises. Oh, and how to lie. I could teach people how to lie through the pain and fake normal. Looking at my life as a whole, I had nothing.
I am nothing.
So I decided to throw away my last chance at normal, because who was I kidding? I was not normal, would never be normal. I whispered good-bye to normal and took my shirt off for him to see just how broken I really was.
Breathe Me (A 'Me' Novel) Page 13
