Young Love

by Alyson Santos

  Our kiss is hungry, long, and a painful prelude for more. For everything I want but can’t have in these few stolen seconds. I rock with a determined movement to match the desperation of my tongue.

  “What about Karen?” he breathes against my lips.

  “She’s always late,” I return, hot from our contact, explosions primed and ready for his spark.

  He forces my head back so he can address my eyes. “You are the best thing in my life right now, Sienna Porter.”

  A smile breaks out over my lips. “You are the best thing in mine, Jace Beckett.”

  He grins, and I brand that image on my heart.

  I’ll never understand Karen’s obsession with this stupid club. I tried to get her to meet me for coffee but apparently the fact that I’m in a serious relationship eliminates my say in girls’ night venues. Wing-woman, my new job.

  We’ve already evaluated the room, decided who’s worth pursuing, who’s not, and how the approach should be made. Hilarious, because I have yet to see her make a move after her lengthy review process. I nurse my glass of wine with enough focus to signal I’m not interested in case any of those marks start looking my way. My thoughts wander to Jace, probably at home doing yardwork or fixing a gutter or something. He can never sit still no matter how much I yell at him. Broken ribs be damned, and suddenly I know I’m in the wrong place. I’m all for pursuing friendship with Karen, but lately it’s been more of an acting role.

  “Hey, I think I’m going to head out,” I shout over the music.

  “We just got here!”

  “We’ve been here for almost an hour, and you haven’t even tried to talk to anyone.”

  Her glare tells me that non-single friends aren’t allowed to say stuff like that either.

  “Just because you found the perfect guy doesn’t mean the rest of us should give up.”

  “He’s not perfect.” He is. “And I’m sure you’ll find someone just as great.” No way.

  She huffs and performs her patented stirrer-between-the-lips move. Is she jealous? Of course she is. Maybe she dragged me here just to get me away from him.

  Stop it. She’s your friend.

  Is she?

  My gaze settles on the woman who’s been my “best friend” for years. Our relationship has soured lately, because of me, or because I’m no longer the sad, lonely sack who makes her feel better about her own life? What if Jace is right? I feel mean even thinking such things, then again, I can’t recall examples where our relationship wasn’t self-serving. Is Karen another pillar supporting the wall of my prison?

  “Jace is having a hard time. I’m worried about him.”

  “Uh-huh.” She drains her glass and signals for another.

  “It breaks my heart to see him so—”

  “Oh, hello. Check out Blue Blazer by the stairs.”

  I tug her sleeve. “I’m trying to talk to you.”

  “Oh boohoo. Mr. Perfect is sad. He’ll get over it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “How can you still be so blind? You really think you’re so special? Your boyfriend is using you for God knows what, and one day he’ll disappear for some hot twenty-year-old model. Then what?”

  I push away from the bar. “Okay, I’m taking off. Clearly you don’t want me here. This isn’t my scene anyway.”

  “Oh right because she’s taken now.”

  I turn my head to hide my anger. “I’ve never enjoyed Rosefire.”

  “You enjoyed it just fine when there was something in it for you.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. “You know, a real friend would by happy I’ve found someone, not treat me like shit because of it.”

  “You found someone? No, honey, you found a hot piece of ass to play with to make yourself feel better about losing Joe.”

  I shake my head, stunned more than anything that I ever thought she was my friend. How many other lies have I let infiltrate my reality over the years? How many poisonous relationships am I letting hold me back?

  Minus One: the number of friends I now have.

  “Bye, Karen. Good luck with”—I wave my hand around the club—“this.”

  She fires back a glare but doesn’t try to prevent my retreat.

  I return home to find Jace on the front porch with a pile of tools, illuminated by a floodlight.

  “You’re back early,” he says, looking over from a ladder by the swing.

  “Hard to get excited about a club when the only person I want to dance with is here.”

  His smile. Yep, this is where I belong.

  “Whatcha doing?”

  “Thought I’d secure this swing a little better. That’s all we need, someone sitting down and flying off the porch.”

  “You’re supposed to be resting.”

  He shrugs. “I’m not climbing K2, just screwing in a few brackets.” He scans my face. “What’s wrong?”

  My turn to shrug. “I think you were right about Karen. She can’t stand the fact that I’m happy.”

  “I’m sorry, Sienna.”

  “Yeah.” I pull in a breath. “Anyway, now that I’m home…” I move to where he balances on a step and snake my arms around his waist. Perfect height for me to enjoy his ass. “Need any help?” I tease.

  “Damn,” he says, bracing against the wall of the house as I play.

  “What? I love fixing things.”

  “I’m pretty sure we can make this a two-person job.”

  I laugh and wait as he climbs down to meet me. His humor has faded, though, and I brush my fingers over his jaw.

  “What is it?”

  He sighs—nervous?—and pulls his phone from his pocket. “I was waiting for the right time to show you this. I didn’t want to influence your relationship with Karen any more than I already had. But now that you know what she is, you should also see this.” He scrolls through his phone and hands it to me.

  A message app is open. Wait, that’s Karen’s name at the top.

  Karen: Hey there, gorgeous. It was great meeting you. Sienna is a lucky woman. If you ever want to branch out though, give me a call. I can keep a secret.

  Jace: Never going to happen. Please don’t message me again.

  A wave of nausea washes over me. I check the date and want to throw up.

  “This was from a while ago,” I whisper.

  “Right after the dinner. She looked me up, I guess.”

  I hand his phone back and lean into his arms. “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.”

  “You want to see the best in people. That’s nothing to be sorry about. But people lie. Sometimes it’s malicious deception and sometimes they don’t even realize they’re doing it.”

  I nod, feeling exhausted. “I hate lies. How many more am I protecting without even knowing it?”

  He tucks me closer, and I finally manage a full breath. “I don’t know, babe, but we’re going to expose them.”

  Chapter 0 – 16 = -16

  Lies can be a complex beast. Like everything else, I’m learning, it’s not as simple as a good and bad equation. Sometimes survival leaves us no choice but to twist the truth in our heads and create a narrative we can accept.

  Out of desperation, these stories form myths. Like the illusion that things are improving as the days wear on. That Jace is coming to terms with the separation from his brother. That two hours a week of karate class is a sufficient replacement for eight years of someone being the center of your life.

  Survival, because there’s nowhere to hide from watching a piece of someone’s soul get ripped out each night he’s forced to bed with no progress toward gaining back a relationship he needs. And when the lie fades, the truth is waiting, right there, bold and ugly, the evidence that Jace’s deep-seeded need to love and protect that little boy is destroying him.

  At first, Aiden’s attendance at class becomes less consistent. Then it becomes erratic. Until finally, Sensei Alex confirms that he’s been withdrawn from the program.

  “Don’t they
understand how important this is to him? How hard he’s worked to get to where he is?” Jace says, after returning home from class that night.

  He paces the kitchen with his hands locked on his head. His black uniform polo rides up exposing the tense ripple of muscle below the hem. I see it in those tightly flexed tendons, the devastation of being a 3rd Degree Black Belt who can’t protect the people he loves. He’s a panther, taut and ready to attack, but he’s behind a glass wall.

  “Maybe if I try talking to them again. It’s been two weeks since my last attempt. I can say the school is sending me to check up on him.”

  He’s just soothing his inner predator. We both nod at the lunacy of his plan, making a silent pact to pretend it could work. I continue watching him, my love, fading before my eyes. Is this what I looked like as I withered under Joe’s reign?

  You’re going to lose him.

  It’s become an anthem. Not because he’s a monster, but because I’ve been selfish enough to accept any part of him, even the dying embers of what’s left now that the fire’s been snuffed out. Selfish, yes. Naïve, no.

  I swallow the lump in my throat as I watch him tonight. So beautiful. So tragic. So everything that can fill my life even though I know I’m not enough to fill his. Am I greedy enough to accept that? Desperate enough in love with this man to cling to remnants as he slips further and further from me?

  “I love you,” I say suddenly.

  He stops pacing, glances over at me in surprise. “I love you too.” His eyes narrow with the question I won’t answer. It’s probably a question we’ve both been asking ourselves for a while now but neither of us has been brave enough to give it life.

  What is love if not the moment you realize it’s not about you?

  It’s the pent-up panther clawing to come out and fight for someone else’s soul. Because your pain might hurt, but theirs is unbearable to you and you’d do anything to make it stop.

  Anything.

  Any. Thing.

  You’re going to lose him anyway.

  Chapter 0 – 17 = -17

  My breath comes in staccato gasps. Jace stands resolved, his hand already on the door. Was he even going to tell me before he left?

  “You can’t!” I say. “You know what will happen.”

  “I have to. I’m just going to talk to them.” He lets go of the handle and gently squeezes my shoulders. “I love you, Sienna, but I can’t keep sitting here doing nothing. I haven’t heard from Aiden in three weeks. I can’t take it anymore.”

  “I know, but let’s talk to Mary and see what our options are.”

  “There are no options!” He blinks, displaying the full extent of his pain. “You know that as well as I do. I told you, this isn’t the first falling out we’ve had. I know how to handle this.”

  I step away and cross my arms. “Yeah? So who’s going to hold the cotton and bandages this time?” His expression slides into irritation but I don’t regret my quip. I’m not wrong, and he’s being stupid.

  “I’m just going to talk,” he mutters. “I’ll probably be back by dinner.”

  Maybe now I do feel badly. “Jace, wait.”

  He turns, and I rush into his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, holding onto him. Tears burn deep. Emotion from nowhere. Does my heart know something my brain doesn’t? Oh god. I hold tighter. “I love you.”

  His lips press down on my hair. “I love you too. I’ll be okay.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut.

  You’re going to lose him anyway.

  My spreadsheets glare back at me from the screen, sparse and meaningless. I massage my temples and stare through the window again. The space in the driveway looks so empty without Jace’s truck. Two hours he’s been gone and not a word, not even a text. My own request for an update rests on my phone alone and unread. Yep, one-hundred-twenty minutes of sitting here pretending my heart and mind aren’t in a mansion fifteen miles away, with a man who holds no weakness except fearless love.

  What if…?

  I close my eyes. What if.

  That question plagues me as the minutes tick on through silence that becomes unbearable. I get the vacuum out but the roar holds no power over the shouts in my head.

  How long would the fibers of his being hold on without his brother? I’ve never had children, but I’d imagine Aiden is as much of a son to Jace as a brother. What wouldn’t a parent endure for their child? I’ve already seen the answer to that question, watched it rip him up and spit him out.

  Four hours.

  I restart my phone, worried it’s malfunctioning. If it is, I’m still able to send messages out.

  Jace, please. Are you okay? What’s going on?

  This one joins the list of unread others. “Delivered”—such a pointless word.

  The elliptical becomes the next victim of my anxiety, along with season five of Detectives Who Can’t Solve Crimes Even Though They’ve Followed the Same Formula for Sixty-Three Episodes. The machine display sings my praises as I gasp and sweat all over it. Numbers climb, and records break while my phone rests on the tray with a vacant stare.

  By the middle of the third episode, I’m leaning more than stepping. The numbers only move at a snail’s pace. Encouraging tallies have started laughing, and the pants of exertion morph into the clench of tears. I step off, wipe a towel over my face, and hold it against my eyes.

  You were going to lose him anyway.

  Doesn’t help in the past tense. Oh god, why didn’t I do more to stop him? Bracing against the couch, I fight the rising panic. My breaths start coming in gasps. One. Two. Three. I cup my hands around my mouth to regain control.

  Seven hours.

  At seven hours and sixteen minutes my phone finally buzzes.

  Jace: Everything’s fine. Be there in a half hour.

  Watching Jace pull into the driveway and walk toward the house is the first thing that’s felt right all day. If I don’t look at his face I can even pretend this is our house. Our life. This is the reality I’ll wake up to every morning and settle into each night.

  He knocks, crushing me with the lie. No one knocks on their own door.

  I open it and avoid his face. In that brief glimpse on his approach, I caught something more terrifying than blood.

  “Hey, babe. You hungry? I’ll make something.” My voice trembles.

  “No, thanks.” He moves inside. Pauses like a statue in my foyer. “Sienna.”

  I shake my head and take a step back. “Well, I’m hungry. So I’ll start some pasta and—”

  “Sienna, stop. Listen to me.”

  Tears burn behind my eyes, choke up my throat. I take another step back. “If you’re not in the mood for pasta, we could do a salad.”

  He presses forward.

  “Or order in. I could go for some Indian.” My words are barely audible now, and he pulls me into his arms. I collapse against him as sobs rush out.

  You were going to lose him anyway.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he says, his own voice raw.

  My head moves against his chest. He holds tighter.

  “You’re going back, aren’t you?”

  “It’s the only way.”

  “No!” Furious, I recoil, but his grip tightens, holding me until I relax back into him.

  “Please, Sienna. I don’t know if can do this without your support.”

  You want my support? My blessing to put yourself back in the hornets’ nest?

  He tilts my face up, those hypnotic eyes begging me. And there it is, something new as well—embers fading. How quickly those sparkling pools are sinking into dull swamps. The pressure in my chest builds, and I swipe at my eyes.

  “Louis is okay with this?” I’m stalling. I know the answer. That’s right, Jace. I know.

  “Yeah, if I agreed to his terms.”

  “Which were what? Be his slave again? Let him knock you around?” Why does the bitterness seem to be gutting me more than him?

  And he just stands there,
letting me attack. Anger burns even hotter inside me.

  “Well?”

  “I’ll work for him again, yeah. Like before.”

  “Like before,” I spit. “Because things were so great before.”

  He looks away. “I had to. I have to get back to Aiden.”

  “This is wrong. You know it’s wrong!”

  Evidence of that raging panther strains each coil of primed muscle in him again. I feel its power radiate from him when I press my hands against his chest.

  “I’m doing the right thing.” His heart pounds against my touch, exposing the lie of his confidence.

  “But that’s not all of it, huh,” I say.

  He closes his eyes.

  I can barely speak. “You also have to give this up. Us.”

  When I dare a look at him, angry tears have clouded his own eyes, and he lets go of me.

  “Fuck!” He slams his foot into the door. His fingers lace on his head as he stares out the glass. For several moments we stand in silence, inches apart, but nowhere near each other anymore.

  “You want me to choose you, don’t you?” His voice rasps with pain.

  Yes. But that’s the real lie, isn’t it?

  “No.” I pull in a ragged breath. “No.” I suck back my emotion and draw every reserve of the fighter inside. Defensive stance. “It’s not even a choice.” I take his hand, forcing him to face me. “It’s not a choice, Jace. I’m losing you anyway.”

  He blinks back the liquid in his stare. “You love me enough to support this?”

  My eyes flood as I nod. “I told you. I’d do anything for you,” I whisper.

  He holds out his arms, and I fall into them again. For the last time?

  His lips rest on my hair, and I hold on, staining his shirt with hot tears and the cold reality of what love really means.

  “Thank you, Sienna,” he breathes against me. “I wouldn’t have been strong enough to make this choice on my own.”