SAVAGE: The Kingwood Duet
Page 7
“Don’t tell me to settle down, Alexander. I’ve had a shitty morning and then I find you talking to her. What the fuck?”
Anger shapes his eyes as he stares, his body following suit as he closes the gap and leans down so only I can hear him through pursed lips. “Don’t swear at me, Sara Jane. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
There’s a breathable pause though neither of us takes one. My body is stiff under his hands, so he kisses me as if that will change anything. I turn my head, causing his lips to land on my cheek. “Don’t.”
He doesn’t move, except his mouth against my ear. “Don’t you ever turn away from me again.” The threat is whispered but it doesn’t make it less powerful. “Do you understand?” His voice is not one I recognize as the grinding of his teeth is heard.
I push off him, but his grip tightens. “We’re in the middle of campus with dozens of eyes, if not more, potentially watching this exchange.” I tuck my arms between us, keeping him away from me without being obvious. “Let go of me, Alexander.”
I’m released and given a cold, hard glare in exchange. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Where have you been all night?” Everything I’ve ignored, everything that has built up over time is spat in his face.
“Don’t talk to me like I’ve done something wrong.”
“How do I know you haven’t?”
“Because you know me. Better than anyone. You know me, Firefly. I don’t tell you certain things to protect you.”
“From what?” I take a step back. “What are you protecting me from?” His brow bunches in the middle, a more defined line that’s formed in the last two years. “I’ve let you have your secrets. For years, I let everything go and have given you the privacy you’ve wanted. Yet today, you’ve been gone all night, don’t bother to answer any of my text messages, and when I do find you, it’s with another girl’s hands on your body.” Moving closer to him, I touch his chest. His shirt is fisted in my hands and I plead, “Please let me in.”
“If I let you in, I’ll lose you. That’s what happens to people I truly love.”
“Who is after you? Who will hurt me because you care about me? Please, Alexander. I can’t live in the dark any longer.”
He takes my clinging wrists and moves me back until I release his shirt. “You think you’ll find happiness if you know everything, when I know you’ll only find misery.” Stepping away from me, he releases my wrists and they drop to my sides. “I’m not fucking anyone else if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Then why did you let her touch you at all?”
“I wasn’t letting her. She did it right when you showed up. What you didn’t hear was when I told her to not touch me. That I have a girlfriend. That’s the part you missed.”
He turns to leave but doesn’t get five feet before I beg, “Alexander?”
“Sara Jane, you okay?” I look to my left and find Cal from my study group standing nearby.
I turn to him, but my breath catches when I see Alexander in my peripheral storming toward him. Jumping in his path, my body is flung as I hit the wall of muscle. Just as I’m about to hit the ground, I’m caught and my scream lodges in my throat.
Looking up into the intense eyes that caused me so much pain a moment earlier, a small smile tilts the corners of his lips, and he leans down for a kiss, but instead whispers, “I said I would never hurt you.”
“Then let me in.” He sighs, and then shakes his head slowly. Gone is his façade of fury. He’s frustrated, but not with me. It’s as though he’s wavering. How I wish I could read his mind, understand fully the shadows that lurk inside him.
“You’re in. Way deeper than you know, but I guess it’s time you know more.” He lifts me to my feet and glares at Cal. “Carry on with your day. I’ve got this.”
The warning is clear in Alexander’s tone, but Cal asks me, “You sure?”
My throat hurts as much as my heart, but I manage to reply, “I’m sure.” Because we’re both in too deep to walk away now.
And I wouldn’t even if I could.
9
Sara Jane
Looking back over my shoulder, Cruise is standing by the car. Seeing things in a new perspective, it appears like he’s standing guard. Am I paranoid or has my whole world just flipped upside down?
Back in the coffee shop, where I sit, Alexander arrives with a coffee in each hand. After setting them down on the table between us, he sits across from me in a leather wingback and rests his forearms on his legs. “I want to know who killed my mother.”
Caught completely off guard, I ask, “What?”
“I can’t just let a murderer roam the streets. She was killed, and I need to know why and by whom.”
“The newspapers said why.”
“I don’t care what the papers or the media said. It’s lies. It’s a cover-up.”
My heart beats harder, pounding against my ribs, as I stare at the man who’s being eaten alive by his anger. Reaching over, I wrap my hands over his clasped ones and whisper, “Alexander, she was mugged. She tried to fight the attackers, and they shot her.”
His pain is evident when he looks down, that line between his eyebrows prominent. “It wasn’t over a fucking necklace and a wedding ring.” His eyes lift to mine quickly.
“Her jewelry was very valuable.”
“Her life was worth more than fucking jewelry.”
“You’re right. It was, but not to them.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m not saying it to hurt you. I’m saying it because I’ve seen you changing over the years, and I’m not sure I like what you’re becoming.”
He shakes my hands away and sits back, out of my reach. “You can leave then.”
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
I’ve seen Alexander happy, turned on, mischievous, angry, but the dark, brooding expression on his face isn’t one I’ve ever seen directed at me. Until this moment. When he doesn’t respond, moments from our three-year relationship start to flash through my head . . .
“Why me?” I’ve only spent a small amount of time with him. When I look at him, how handsome he is, how strong he is, I can’t see it, what he sees in me.
Touching my cheek, he presses his forehead to mine, and whispers, “I want to see you again. I want to see you every day.” Leaning back, he looks into my eyes. “Do you want to see me again, Sara Jane?”
It was such a loaded question for an innocent girl, especially one already so blinded by love. We’ve fought, we’ve made up, we’ve laughed, we’ve fucked, and we’ve made love over and over again. Our relationship has been a roller coaster. But my answer will always be the same. Yes, I want to stay. But he’s not asking me to stay here. He’s asking me to leave . . . if I want to. “Alexander?” I wait, my heart aching in ways I’ve never felt. Will he actually let me walk away?
He rests his ankle across his knee and looks eerily similar to his father sitting at the head of the table this morning. I stand, and he finally speaks, “Sit.”
Our stares are guns, ready to fire and weighted with pain and anger as we silently challenge each other. Again, he says, “Sit down, Sara Jane.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I shake my head, unable to speak with the same authority in which he speaks to me. He stands before me, reaching his full six-foot-three height, and towers over me. “Please.”
Taking in a jagged breath, I relent and sit down. I’m not sure if I’m losing a battle or winning the war by doing so, but with the years I’ve invested, I know my heart is not my own. I’ll sit another minute. I owe him that much. “That’s twice today you’ve taken a tone with me as if you own me.”
“I do own you. You can’t argue that.”
“I can argue that you’d be lost without me.”
“I was lost when I met you.”
My emotions are exposed instantly when my eyes begin to water. I feel as though I’ve been slapped. “Why are you talking to
me like this, like I don’t mean anything to you?”
He leans forward again and looks around before turning back to me. “You mean everything to me. Everything, Firefly, but I have enough bullshit to deal with. If you’re not happy, I’m not going to make you stay.” Not going to make me stay. He knows he could though, yet he’s abandoning that position. A lot like how I feel right now. Abandoned.
“Why do you sound relieved from the thought of me leaving?”
“You know, deep down, it would be better for you to go. Both of us know that. Doesn’t mean I want you to, but I don’t know if I can make you happy any longer.”
Or maybe he just doesn’t want to try anymore. “You sound like your father.”
I’m met with narrowed eyes and a curious crease in his forehead. Tilting his head, he asks, “And what would you know about my father?”
“For as long as we’ve dated, it’s interesting how little I know about him.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
I pull the invitation from my backpack and drop it on the table between us.
He grabs it and without even opening it asks, “Why do you have this?”
“You know what it is?” His silence answers my question. “Why, after all these years, is your father inviting me to one of his parties?”
I see his Adam’s apple bob with a thick gulp, and he glances to Cruise just outside the dusty window. When he looks back, he asks, “What’s going on?”
“I had breakfast with your father, though I lost my appetite early enough I’m not sure I can say I actually ate anything.”
His left hand begins to shake before his other hand covers it. Any of the kindness I’m used to seeing in his eyes has disappeared. “Were you going to tell me?”
“That’s why I texted you to meet me. I just didn’t expect to find you flirting with Maya when I arrived.”
“I wasn’t flirting. She came over to me.”
“If that had been some guy talking to me, with his hand on me, you would have been furious.”
“There was a guy. Who the fuck was that?”
“Nobody that matters.”
“He knew your name so he’s obviously somebody.”
“He’s a guy from class. Like I said, nobody. So don’t turn this around on me.” I sit back tucking my legs under me, trying to physically pretend this conversation is not an argument. “I had every intention of telling you about breakfast and this invitation when I arrived on campus this morning.”
“Tell me now.” His lips are tight as he stares at me like he’s seeing me in a new light.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I grab my backpack and swing it over my shoulder before snatching the invitation out of his hand.
My wrist is grabbed before I can walk away. He stands again and steps as close as he can to me, his chest pressed to my shoulder. “I’m tired. I didn’t get any sleep—”
“Then maybe you should have stayed in bed with me.”
I’m released and he turns his back. His breath is harsh, his temper hidden from view, and I walk out. When I see Cruise, he says, “See you later, SJ.”
Keeping my head down when I pass, I hide the tears in my eyes and reply, “Later.”
I don’t know how I manage to hold it together all the way back to campus. Maybe it’s the humiliation I feel inside, the same feeling I want to hide from the world. He’s never spoken to me in that way, in that tone, or looked at me as though I was duplicitous. Until now.
I’m late to my first class, and as per my professor’s rule, I’m locked out. “Damn it.” I sigh, defeat dropping my shoulders. I head outside and across the quad to sit on an open bench. I’m not sure if it’s the weather that’s turned chilly or the fight I just had lingering in my veins, but I shiver in response.
Looking around, I’m relieved he didn’t follow me. My thoughts are all over the place, and I can’t seem to pinpoint why we’re even fighting. I lie down on the bench and close my eyes. When was the last night I had enough sleep? When was the last time he stayed through the night? Walking out of that coffee shop replays in my head. Everything with him is an enigma leading to more buried secrets. I still don’t have the answers I want or need and it doesn’t seem Alexander’s ready to share.
At one time, I was okay with him having a life outside the one he had with me. He wasn’t cheating and I was busy with school, so I let a lot slide. But after this morning, I can’t pretend like I used to . . .
The tips of our fingers come together with the blue sky as a backdrop. My head rests on his lap while he leans against the base of a tree and the spring air fills my lungs. I love the simple times with Alexander the best. Being at the park today reminds me how busy our lives have become since I started college last fall. He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, then confesses, “I miss you sometimes.”
“I miss you all the time.”
“I’m here whenever you need me.”
“I always need you, Alexander.” I sit up and face him. “But tell me where you go when you leave me?”
“I would never leave you. You will be the one to walk away. Not me.”
“I don’t think I could.”
“What keeps you here?”
“My heart.”
“You’re speaking through emotions.” He spins a silver ring in the shape of a crown around my finger. I don’t wear it all the time, but I have been lately, missing him. He gave it to me last year, telling me I would always be his queen. “What does your rational side say?”
“My emotions are rational.”
“You’re nineteen, Sara Jane. One day you’ll be too smart to give your feelings so much power.” He kisses me, soft and gently, like every time he kisses me. “When you wise up, promise you’ll leave me.”
Surprised, I ask, “Why do you want me to leave?”
“Because you deserve better than I’ll be able to give you. And one day you’ll discover that too. You’ll see me for who I am instead of who you want me to be.”
“I think your emotions weigh down the better parts of yourself.”
“You wear rose-colored glasses, Firefly.”
“I wear my love for you, right here in the open.”
“You’ll regret that one day.”
I kiss him first on his cheek then on his lips and whisper, “How could I ever regret something that feels this right?”
His fingers weave into the back of my hair and he holds me close. “I love you. Till the day I die, I’ll love you.”
“When did it get so hard?”
The warmth of his voice blankets the chill inside me. I open my eyes, slowly adjusting, and find myself buried in his shadow. “When was it ever easy, Alexander?”
I sit up and he sits down. “I’m sorry.” Vulnerability, not something I often hear, but I can now in his tone. It draws me to want to touch him, to hold him, to give him time to say what he needs to say. He runs his hands through his hair and I notice how much it’s grown when the locks fall back over his eyes. “When I stood over my mother’s casket, I vowed I would find the person who murdered her. I won’t stop until that person pays for what he’s done.”
“Pays by having justice served by the police or like a vigilante you’re going to take matters into your own hands?”
Tucking a section of my hair behind my ear, he says, “Why can’t it be both?”
“Because it’s not healthy to seek revenge, and it’s not safe for you to hunt for a killer.”
“When you put it like that—”
“You’ll stop?” I ask, hope foolishly filling my chest.
He chuckles. “No, I can’t.”
“You’re not Batman, Alexander. What you’re doing is dangerous and irresponsible.”
“How is it irresponsible to want to stop a murderer?”
“It’s irresponsible to my heart. If anything happens to you—”
“You wanted to know what I do with my nights. I’ve now told you, so I’m not going to c
ontinue this conversation.”
Frustration sets in again, and I spit out, “What are you doing with your days?”
“I go to work. I’m with you or my friends. There’s no great mystery to solve here.” He shrugs. “I’m an average kind of guy.”
Now I laugh. Average guy. Ha! “There’s nothing average about you.”
When his arm comes around me, he pulls me close and kisses my head. “That’s why you love me.”
“I love you endlessly.” Leaning on his shoulder, I add, “But sometimes I worry that I also love you regardless of what my instincts say.”
“Your instincts are always right. I want to tell you everything, Sara Jane, but I also want you to be happy. It’s a line I struggle to toe.”
I kiss his temple and take in his intoxicating scent. “I wish things were that easy.”
“But like you said, it’s never been easy for us. So maybe we just accept our fate and, like Bonnie and Clyde, live on the edge.”
“I used to dream I was Snow White and I would meet my Prince Charming.”
“You can still have that dream, but I don’t think I can give you the ending you want.”
“You mean a happy one?”
“Any that involves that easy life you want.”
Running my fingers over the veins on top of his hand, I say, “I’ll take Bonnie and Clyde if it means I get you.”
“You have me. You always did, Firefly.” Leaning forward, he says, “I don’t want to change the subject, but we need to talk about my father.”
“Okay.” I lick my lips, and then tug the lower one in when the memory of the confrontation comes back. “Why did he invite me to breakfast?”
Alexander scans the area before replying. “I don’t know, but I don’t want him near you. He’s dangerous.”
“He’s your father, Alexander.”
“I don’t want you near him. This isn’t a discussion.”
“Is it a command?”
“Yes.” Running his hand through his hair, he shakes his head, and then says, “Yes, Sara Jane. This is a command. I’ve never made another of you, but I don’t trust him. If he suddenly wants to see you, there is a motive. Don’t get caught in the crossfire.”