Depths of Lake

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Depths of Lake Page 15

by Keary Taylor


  I swallow hard and think of the urn of Cal’s ashes that sits on his parent’s mantle, just under his framed flag.

  “Here,” I say. “Lay back down. Get some sleep.”

  He does lay down, and I pull the sheet up over him.

  Just as I start to walk away, he grabs my wrist.

  “Will you stay?” he asks. His hold on my wrist is firm enough I won’t get away, but gentle enough to tell me he’d never hurt me.

  I hesitate. Everything in me tenses, pulling tight and itchy. But that look in his eyes, like Lake’s two millimeters from the edge of something dark and sharp—I can’t walk away.

  So I climb into bed with him. I pull him into my chest, barely able to wrap my own arms around his giant shoulders. I rest my cheek on the top of his head. Feel him breathe.

  Softly, I hum him the lullaby Dad used to sing to me when I was little. I can’t remember more than a few words, but the tune is soothing and calm.

  Lake clings to me, hard. And I hold him as he drifts back to sleep.

  “Lake, have you seen Riley?”

  My eyes flash open and I sit up, just as Kyle walks into the apartment.

  Lake jerks into a sitting position, his hands reaching for a sidearm that isn’t there.

  With wide eyes, I look back at Kyle.

  “Ho! Sorry,” he says, turning away from the two of us. “I, uh. I was just looking for you, Riley. I brought by that stuff. It’s down in the garage.”

  I swear under my breath and climb out of the bed. I glance over my shoulder to see Lake pulling a shirt on.

  “I thought you were going to call before you came over,” I say, standing in the middle of the kitchen awkwardly.

  “I did call,” he says, eying Lake with an indecisive look. “You didn’t answer, so I figured you were out working. I walked around for a minute and couldn’t find anyone inside or out. Are you sleeping with him now?” Just like that, he whiplashes back to the awkward situation at hand.

  “It’s none of your damn business,” I snap, my voice quiet. I look back and see Lake watching us with caution in his eyes. “Thanks for bringing it by. I’ll see you later.”

  “No problem,” Kyle says, never taking his eyes off Lake. To my complete surprise, he leans forward, and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “See ya later.”

  My eyes grow wide, and I stiffen up, taking a half a step back as I watch Kyle leave.

  That was weird. And so out of place.

  It takes a full minute before I can turn and look back at Lake with guilty eyes.

  He looks at me, long and hard. It’s hard to tell what’s there.

  But I don’t have to wait long to find out.

  “So I guess that’s the real reason why,” he says, his voice low, but with a sharp edge to it.

  “That was—”

  “You know what, I don’t want to hear it,” he says, shaking his head as his eyes narrow. “I keep hanging on to one little shred of hope, thinking maybe someday, if I’m patient enough, that you’ll see that there is something between us, and that it’s real. But I can see now that I’ve been an idiot.”

  “Who do you think you are, acting like you’ve got some kind of claim over me?” I spit, taking four aggressive steps toward him.

  “I don’t have any claim over you,” he says, his voice rising as well. “Hell, every man on the planet wants you, but you just keep your head down and pretend that you don’t have a heart. That you don’t ever have the right to love anyone ever again, because Cal died.”

  “It’s not just Cal, Lake!” I yell. Moisture pricks at the back of my eyes and my throat grows tight. “Every relationship I’ve ever had has ended in disaster. There’s only been two of them, okay. But they’ve wrecked me, and I won’t survive another capsize.”

  “You know how many times I got knocked down in combat?” he says, taking a step toward me. “How many times I was literally blown off my feet? Hell, I’m lucky to still have feet, but I still got back up. Get. Back. Up. Riley.”

  My eyes are burning, but I refuse to let a single tear fall.

  “I can’t. Because my feet were blown off to start with, and for a while I learned to walk on stumps. But not again.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” he asks with his brows furrowed and his eyes sharp.

  I take a sharp sniff, turning away from him for a moment. My blood boils hot and quick.

  “Kyle is not just my boyfriend from high school,” I nearly yell. I turn back around to face Lake. “We were married. He’s my damn ex-husband!”

  “What?” Lake asks, confusion taking over his face. He actually takes half a step back. “When?”

  “In high school, damn it,” I say, my shoulders falling. I shake my head as I sink into a chair at the table. My hair cascades around me, hiding my face from Lake’s view. “We’d been together for the last half of our junior year. It has hot and quick and way too heavy for only being seventeen. The last day of school, he asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

  I don’t look up at him. Lake keeps his distance, standing in the doorway of his bedroom. He’s absolutely silent and totally still.

  “Mom and Dad weren’t too happy about it. They knew how stupid it was and how hard it was going to be. But I insisted it was going to work. I loved Kyle and Kyle loved me, and that was all that mattered.” My voice grows quiet and I stare out the window. A soft breeze blows over the pasture, swaying the tall weeds back and forth.

  “So they said yes. They were going to let me learn from my mistakes. That’s what it was,” I continue. “They let me marry him, the two of us still only seventeen. We had the wedding two weeks before we started our senior year. He already had a job working with his dad, and I went and got a job at the diner in town. We lived in this little hovel and kept going to school.”

  Lake finally moves from his spot. He crosses the living area and sits on the coffee table. I don’t look at him, but I can feel his eyes on me.

  “It ended about like you’d expect. Things were exciting and great for a while. Then we were so poor we didn’t have money for food, and we started fighting. He started eying some other girl and we couldn’t stand to be in the same room with each other. We got divorced after just three months.”

  My chest feels tight as I remember the way I felt dead inside for so long.

  “That’s the problem with small towns. Everyone knows what you’ve done and the shame you have to bear, knowing what an astronomically stupid mistake you made. The whole town still thinks of us as the dumb kids who thought getting married in high school was a good idea.”

  I pick a piece of lint from my cotton shorts and roll it between my thumb and index finger.

  “It took me a long time before I thought I’d try love again. And then there was Cal. And it was perfect, and we took things slow. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

  Finally, I look over at Lake. He watches me with openness. “And then he died,” he says quietly.

  I stand up and walk over toward him slowly. “Then there’s Travis.” My insides shake just thinking about him constantly hanging over my head. How he’s invaded my life and is trying to control who I spend my time with. His gifts and hang up calls haven’t stopped over the last month. “He follows me around, watches me. We’ve talked for less than a total of ten minutes, but he thinks he owns me.”

  “What?” Lake whispers, anger and disgust forming on his face.

  I’m just a foot away when I stop, looking down on him. “My past experiences with love and the heart have been shit.”

  “Riley, if some guy is threatening you, we need to do something about it,” Lake says. He reaches forward, and then seems to think better of it. “I promise you, I will never let anyone hurt you.”

  “That’s the thing,” I breathe as I stare down at him. “You’re not safe from him either. Like I said, my legs have been blown off. And I can’t get back up. Love has wrecked me.”

  Lake stands, his huge form towering over me. Hi
s eyes are intense and bright as he stares at me.

  I don’t hear him move, but my heart breaks into a sprint when I feel his fingers brush the backs of my arms. His scent floods around me, triggering a million memories between the two of us. He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his skin.

  His hands slip from my arms to wrap around my waist. His eyes never leave mine, and his lips are only inches away.

  “They haven’t been blown off,” he whispers. “They’ve only been broken a few times. And broken bones heal eventually.”

  Even though my blood is racing and pounding, there’s that bite at the back of my eyes once again. I shake my head. “Not these ones.”

  He leans in closer. As he does, my eyes slide closed. The scruff of his jaw brushes against my cheek and I feel his lips whisper against my neck.

  “Just let go,” he whispers.

  And I do.

  Lake’s lips brush against my jawline. His hands press into the small of my back, drawing me closer. Goosebumps flash across my skin, and a storm ignites in my lower belly.

  And then his lips are on mine. Slow, tender, deep in a way that draws something up from my soul and rearranges my very core.

  My arms wrap around his neck, and I pull myself to him. The kiss deepens, my lips parting to his. My tongue searches for a companion, and he is my willing guide.

  With no effort at all, Lake hoists me up, my legs parting and wrapping around his waist, energy surging through my core in a way that leaves me feeling dizzy and filled with constellations. He carries me to the table, leaning over me so our bodies never have to part.

  With one kiss, Lake pulls something out of me. Something dark and broken. Something that was never expected to be put back together. Something visceral and real.

  My hands drop to the hem of his shirt and pull up, dragging it over his head. One of his own hands slides under my tank, slipping over the bare skin of my side. It wraps its way under my back, completely circling to the other side. The tips of his fingers brush the edges of my breast.

  But despite the way my body is feeling—alive and electric, tears sting at the back of my eyes. I’m closing my eyes and having a war with three faces fighting for my present attention.

  There was Kyle. My first lover who showed me passion. With his aggressive, hot desire and devil-may-care smile.

  There was Cal. Who showed me what real love was and showed me that it was okay to take things slow and get them right.

  And here is Lake. Who’s been waiting and waiting. Who saved me from the brink of destruction.

  There shouldn’t be three men in my head.

  And Lake is wrong. My legs have been blown off. If we go here, I won’t stand back up again.

  I would never survive loosing Lake.

  There’s also the overwhelming sensation that we could be being watched right now.

  Against everything in me, I push Lake’s chest. He backs away, a mix of fear and confusion and panic in his eyes.

  I get up from the table, pulling my tank back down. Moisture pools heavy in my eyes, and I can’t look at him as I start toward the door.

  “You’re wrong,” I say. “Some people can’t get back up. I used up both my chances. I don’t get a third.”

  I turn my back and walk away.

  Even as the tears start rolling down my face.

  Even as something breaks inside my chest.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I’m a shaking, distracted, eye-welling mess as I try to get ready for my “date” with Jesse tonight. I pull jeans on and then put my dress over it all, pull on boots, before I realize what I’m doing. Boots and jeans off, I put on some black flats and put on a minimal amount of make-up. A simple braid over my shoulder is as good as it’s going to get today.

  Just as I put an elastic around my hair, Jesse knocks on the back door. I hear him let himself in and he calls up the stairs for me.

  “Coming,” I say as I grab my purse and head downstairs.

  “Hey,” he says when he sees me, his entire face lighting up.

  “Hi,” I say, apprehension and awkwardness oozing out of me.

  “You look really nice,” he says as he holds the door open for me. We step outside. And I hate that my eyes automatically jump up to Lake’s apartment. He’s nowhere in sight. And neither is his truck.

  One of these days I’m going to make him run away for good.

  I probably just did. Who would stay after me walking out on them so many times?

  Jesse talks about work and horses and cows and everything as we drive to the wedding. He doesn’t require much conversation back, and I sense he can tell something’s off with me. So he just keeps talking to himself, pretending like he’s including me. I’m grateful for that.

  The wedding is at the park in town. Jesse parks the truck along the road and comes around to help me out. I manage to slide down from his truck without showing the world the blue with white polka-dot underwear I’m wearing today. He offers his arm, and we walk across the lawn.

  White chairs are set up in rows facing the pavilion. Someone’s wrapped white lights and white silks around the posts. Flowers hang over everything. It’s really beautiful. Exactly a picturesque summer wedding scene.

  We have our first wedding scheduled out at the ranch in two weeks.

  We sit in the second row. Jesse’s sister is there, so is his mom and dad. I’ve met them before, and they seem happy to see me. Maybe a bit too happy. Like they’re hopeful that something is going on.

  Guilt just keeps layering on top of me. I mess up everything I touch. Someday it’s all going to crush me down through the center of the earth.

  Within a few minutes, the groomsmen and the groom line up in front of everyone. As does the pastor. A minute after that, soft music starts playing.

  One by one, beautiful girls and women start walking down the petal-lined aisle in soft pink dresses. They smile and glow and everyone around us is so happy. And then the bride appears at the end of the aisle. She looks gorgeous with her Hershey-smooth brown skin and stark white dress. Everyone stands and all eyes fix on her as she walks down the aisle while the love of her life beams at her the whole way.

  I almost had this once. The outdoor wedding. It would have been fall. In fact, I was supposed to be getting married in about five weeks. We would have all gathered at the ranch. I would have worn the white dress. Everyone would have been staring at me, and I would have only been looking at Cal.

  As the bride finally reaches the groom and the pastor starts talking about love and commitment, I feel a tug in the bottom of my heart.

  Maybe I do still want this.

  My phone vibrates with a text message, and I discreetly pull it out.

  This could be us.

  My heart drops out and I look around. There are many faces here. A few I recognize, most I don’t. But I can’t see Travis anywhere.

  Anger surges up inside of me. It’s hot and wicked. It’s tired and vengeful.

  This ends now, I text back. You have no control over me, and if you try to get in my life again, you’ll regret it.

  You’d really hurt me?

  A small chuckle works its way up out of me, and I shake my head as I text back. You’d better fucking believe it.

  Travis doesn’t text back after that.

  Good. ‘Cause that’s it. Because I’m so freaking tired of him having any effect on my life. Screw this. Screw his threats. I can handle myself.

  Just seconds later, the pastor tells the groom to kiss his bride. We all clap and cheer when their lips meet and they are pronounced husband and wife. Jesse wraps an arm around my shoulder as we watch them walk back down the aisle. Everyone follows behind to the tables are set up not far away.

  Cake. Speeches. Love in the air. This wedding is the whole nine yards.

  “I thought you said your cousin is a jackass,” I say later on as Jesse and I watch people dance on the floor that’s been hauled in. “It’s hard to imagine that’s true, seeing him so hap
py and in love right now.”

  “It’s easy to look like a saint on the happiest day of your life,” Jesse laughs as he sets his wine glass down. “But you’re right, he isn’t a full on jackass. He’s a good guy, most of the time. He’ll treat her right.”

  “Hmm,” is all I say as I take a sip of my water. I haven’t had a drink since that night at the bar. Might be a long while before I have one again.

  I watch the two of them. He wraps his arms around her waist, his hands hanging dangerously low for all the other people around. He whispers something in her ear and she laughs, smiling brilliantly. She leans in and presses her lips to his.

  They sway back and forth slowly, and he presses his lips to her forehead, leaving them there for a good long while.

  “Do you want to dance?” I ask, surprising myself.

  Jesse must be just as surprised as I am. He looks at me with big eyes, so bright. “Sure,” he says, his expression turning serious and evaluating.

  We both stand and Jesse takes my hand as we walk to the floor.

  I hope Travis is watching.

  It’s hard to meet Jesse’s eyes as I wrap my hands behind his neck and he places his around my waist, but I force myself to. This should feel comfortable, and in a way, it is. I’ve known Jesse for forever. But…

  He holds my eyes as we turn in a slow circle, shuffling back and forth in time with the music. I search inside of myself, looking for answers.

  Do I want to feel again?

  Can I let myself feel again?

  I want to be happy. I am so damn tired of feeling the way I have been for the past nine months. It’s hell. I want to feel alive. I want to breathe.

  I don’t want to drown.

  Without giving myself time to think about it, I move on my impulse, and lift myself up on my tiptoes to press my lips to Jesse’s.

  He stills for a second, surprised at my action. And then he relaxes, his hands pressing into the small of my back.

  I search myself, fast and hard.

  I felt something, hot and fast and deep this morning with Lake. Surely it can be repeated with any other male I have some sort of a connection with. Right?

 

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