by Shen, L. J.
“Mission accomplished. But you still visited my house. Spied on me.”
He shrugged, a sad ghost of a smile passing through his face.
“I never pretended to possess admirable self-control where you’re involved, Texas Shaw. Hence why we’re in this mess. If only I could stay away from you.”
“You’d still be in this position. He wanted to ruin you because you were better. And you let him.”
Silence blanketed the room. Eventually, he turned his face toward me. “Baby”—he smiled triumphantly—“You’re not wearing any makeup.”
My mouth dropped. I put a hand to my injured side, feeling my eyes narrowing. Christ. My face was completely bare. I’d spent the entire day at the nursing home without a drop of makeup and hadn’t even noticed people’s reactions. No funny looks. No disgusted frowns. No children pointing and laughing at me. No hushed whispers or judgmental sneers.
Huh.
“I’m proud of you, Texas.”
“You’ll be prouder when you hear this—know where I’ve been today?”
He closed his eyes, pretending to say a little prayer.
“Wherever it was, I hope there aren’t any attractive men in this story.”
I chuckled, rolling my eyes. “I helped Grams unpack her things. She moved to a nursing home just outside Austin. The one from the brochure you left me—Heartland Gardens. She’s adaptin’ well and has an equally eccentric roommate to keep her company.”
“Holy crap,” he boomed. His voice was so loud, Mrs. St. Claire rushed into the room to make sure everything was okay.
“Westie? You all right?”
“Yes, Mother. I’m injured, not six. Shut the door.”
She laughed when she saw the grin on his face, shaking her head and closing the door again, giving us privacy.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, it’s unreal. You taking part in the play. Doing the right thing by Grams. You’re like my hero, Tex. Can I get an autograph?”
“Sure can.” I laughed.
“Anywhere on my body?” He wiggled his brows. I took his casted palm in mine and kissed the tips of his fingers.
It was late evening, and I needed to go. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Staying with West was tempting, but facing the music was part of my healing process. I had to see tonight through. It was my first night alone in the house, without Grams. My first night alone, period. I had to get used to that.
“I’m glad you’re okay, West. I’m sure you need your rest, so I’ll be goin’ now.” I stood up, sliding my hand out of his. His grip tightened around mine. His throat worked around the word that slid out of his mouth.
“Don’t.”
I studied him silently.
“Don’t leave me. I’ve been getting real good at recognizing goodbyes, and once you go through that door, you are not going to come back.”
He wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t do this anymore. Put my heart on the line and hope he’d keep it safe. Not when he’d handled it so carelessly before.
“You’ll survive without me,” I whispered, a tear sliding down my cheek. It slipped into my mouth, its saltiness spreading over my tongue.
“Surviving is not gonna cut it anymore. I survived for five years before I met you. It wasn’t enough.”
He took a deep breath, groaning. Every breath put him in pain, and I was the reason he’d gotten beaten up so badly.
“I can’t unfeel, unlaugh, undo everything that went down between us.” He shook his head. “I can’t unlove you, Grace Shaw. You’re inked in my fucking DNA, to a point I’ve completely lost my ability to think straight. One second I mauled you like a bobcat, the other I pushed you away, not wanting you to get tangled up in my shit. I pushed you and pulled you and chased you and hurt you and worshipped you every which way, because I couldn’t say those fucking words the first time they sprang into my mind. I love you.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“You love me?”
“Shit, Tex. There’s no word for what I feel for you. That first night we hung out? When Grams went missing? It was the first time I felt like my old self again, before Aubrey died. Something about it was light and fun and just … real.” He let out a sigh. “You were stressed, and worried, and suddenly, I needed to step up. It was the first time I saw crumbs of my former self. I think it was because you gave me so much shit.” He laughed, covering his eyes with his forearm. “You just gave zero fucks about who I was. What my name meant in this town. I was drawn to that. And ever since that night, I couldn’t get enough of you. I consumed you in every form possible—friend, lover, roommate, colleague, peer. I just needed you around. Constantly. I tried to fight it. I tried telling myself it was nothing. But every time I took a step back, you, or Easton, or Reign—any-fucking-one in my life—put me back in my place and made me see I was all about this Grace Shaw life.”
I bowed my head, biting my lip to keep myself from bawling like a baby. I’d dreamed of this moment every night for weeks. Months, even. Yet now that he’d finally confessed his love to me, the words felt like beautiful, empty bullet cases.
He hurt me.
Not once.
Not twice.
I wasn’t stupid enough to put myself through it a fourth time without some sort of commitment. A sign that he would at least try to protect me from himself next time things didn’t work out.
“I love you, too, West. Which is why you have to let me go. What you are offerin’ me is not enough. I want everything. The fairy tale. The romance. I want a man who will parade me around like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world—precisely because, fixed or not, I will never be pretty in my own eyes. I need someone who is good for me.” I slipped my hand from his, watching him taking a ragged breath that nearly tore his chest apart. “And I’m dead scared that someone is not you.”
His eyelids fluttered shut. He was giving up. I could practically see the fight evaporating out of his body.
I wanted to drop to my knees and beg him not to.
Convince him to give me everything I needed so we could be together.
But it wasn’t on me.
It was West’s commitment to make.
His fight to win.
I turned around and walked away.
This time, I didn’t look back, as I left both the love of my life and my old, insecure Grace behind.
Slipping into bed that night was surreal.
The lack of sound Grams usually made around the house was jarring to me. Moving objects, snoring, talking, breathing—all those things were missing, and the loud quiet leaked into my bones like poison.
Karlie had texted me earlier, asking if I wanted her to drop in for a spontaneous slumber party. Nineties-themed movies, cheap wine, and this or that games. As tempting as it was, and as much as I wanted to get away from the chaos teeming in my own head, I knew my new self was better than running away like that.
I needed to see tonight through—and come out of it a better version of myself.
Still broken.
And wonky.
Asymmetrical.
But also whole.
And independent.
Stronger than I’d ever been.
As I tossed and turned in a bed that felt strange without West in it, after making sure the doors were locked, and the TV on, its static light dancing across my face so I wouldn’t feel quite so alone, I had a feeling I was on the right path.
It was going to be a bumpy one, for sure, but wherever this road was taking me—I was ready.
Grace
I threw myself into both work and school for the next week.
The premiere for A Streetcar Named Desire loomed large, casting its shadow across everything else in my life.
West was discharged from the hospital three days after I’d visited him. I sent food and get-well cards while he was at the hospital, but I hadn’t summoned the courage to visit him again. The ball was in his court now.
A couple days after West got back to She
ridan, he showed up in the middle of rehearsal. He was still banged up, his face puffy, and a few pounds down, but that didn’t stop my breath from catching when he appeared between the grand double doors of the auditorium, flashing his signature cocky grin, a candy stick peeking from the side of his mouth.
I was onstage when I saw him. Aiden stomped in with a dummy package of meat. The scene was our first encounter as Stanley and Blanche. Even though I knew I needed to retune my mind to the play, I couldn’t help but follow West’s movements with my eyes as he took a seat directly under the stage, in the front row, watching me with his cool, attentive eyes.
“H’lo. Where’s the little woman?” Aiden rumbled, puffing his chest.
I finally realized how West had felt when I came to see him fight all those weeks ago. We couldn’t be in the same room and not be consumed by one another somehow.
Pretending to light a cigarette and puff on it, I tore my gaze from West, throwing myself into the role.
“In the bathroom.”
Aiden shot his lines at me, and I quipped mine right back. We had good chemistry onstage. The more time had passed, the more I began to forget West was there and allowed myself to drown in the sweet magic of performing.
When the scene came to an end, with Tess walking in delivering her lines, Finlay clapped from his place in the first row, next to West, springing up to his feet.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that was utter perfection. Take five. Grace—don’t go too far, please.”
I nodded, hopping offstage. West sauntered over to me. My pulse jackrabbited, pounding against the side of my throat. We stood in front of each other. I waited for him to say something, anything, to relieve me of the gushing rip-your-veins pain that I experienced every time I thought about him.
He was already turning back to being his old, beautiful self.
“Tex.”
“Maine.”
He grinned. I rarely called him that, but when I did, it always had a dazzling impact and made me feel like a siren taking her clothes off for the very first time.
“Look at you,” he whispered in awe.
I ducked my head down, blushing. “We’ve been workin’ pretty hard. Thanks.”
“We? I’ve only seen you. Were there other people?” he said matter-of-factly, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.
Ask me out.
Tell me you can’t live without me.
That I’m not the only one feeling like I’m walking around with half a heart.
He shoved his fists into his front pockets, shifting from foot to foot.
“Wanna grab coffee later? As friends,” he rushed to clarify. My heart sank. Friends. Of course. I’d told him I wouldn’t settle for anything less than everything, and he figured I wasn’t worth it. That was fair. I needed to come to terms with that. I couldn’t ask him for something he was incapable of giving me.
“Sure.” I mustered a weak smile. “Coffee sounds great.”
“I’ll pick you up in a couple hours.”
He turned around and walked away. I spun back to the stage, catching Tess’ gaze. She looked miserable. My cheeks heated when I realized she’d heard our exchange.
They say the bigger they are, the harder they fall.
I was anxiously waiting to hear the thud that West’s love for me would make when it finally overpowered his stubbornness.
West
Payback and Karma had one thing in common—they were both bitches.
Today, I got to deliver them to Kade Appleton, wrapped in a toxic bow.
I’d tried to accommodate his small-dick syndrome. Truly, I had. I’d gone to extreme lengths to minimize the damage in this situation. I’d bitten my tongue and let him have his moment in the sun, but now all bets were off.
I wanted to ensure he was never coming after me and mine again.
Not only because I wasn’t going to put up with his bullshit, but also because I wanted my girlfriend back.
This time, she was going to be safe.
From him.
From me.
From anyone who wished her harm.
I parked my trashed Ducati in front of Max’s house. Christina was at the shop for days, and still looked like shit.
I’d never been to Max’s place before. Come to think of it, I didn’t even know who he lived with. By the nice, Craftsman-style digs and manicured front lawn, I bet he lived with his parents. Sad, because he didn’t need any more obstacles standing in his way on his quest to lose his virginity.
Baked leaves crunched beneath my boots as I made my way to the door. Max opened up with a somber face, glancing behind my shoulder, to see if I brought reinforcements.
“Is he here?” I stepped into his house without technically being invited.
Max nodded quickly. “Told you I’d make it work.”
“Alone?” I stressed.
He tugged his shirt down his round belly. “I ain’t stupid. Don’t want you to kill me.”
“The former isn’t true, and the latter is still fucking likely.” I sauntered into a neat living room full of flowery furniture and family pictures that proved Max wasn’t the only person in the family who was grossly unfuckable.
I found Kade slumped on the couch, smoking a blunt, watching a football rerun on a flat TV screen, a can of beer in his lap.
“Somethin’ stinks.” He sniffed the air, refusing to unglue his eyes from the screen.
I took a seat on a recliner to his right, studying him. He fidgeted, his fingers dancing around his beer. I noticed a tic in his right eye.
“Heard you were in the hospital.” He made a show of flexing his muscles as he rearranged himself. “You sure look fine to me.”
“Thanks for the medical assessment, Dr. Shit-for-brains.”
He took a sip of his beer, trying to appear calm. But his knee was jerking, and his lower lip trembled. He knew as well as I did that I could thrash him right here, right now, and end things the way they were intended to happen if I wanted to. There was no dispute I was a better fighter. The fact of the matter was, I’d thrown the fight for him, and he’d greedily decided to almost kill me, punishment for my being better.
I stared at him wordlessly, watching him unravel.
“Why’d you call me in here, anyway?” He huffed. “An apology?”
Max slouched next to him, shoving his face between his own knees.
“Just want y’all to know my parents should be here in an hour, so dirtying up the carpet with blood …”
“Better spit it out, then, St. Claire.” Kade ripped his eyes from the screen, eyeballing me. “You wanted to do this without the buffer of our boys. That means whatever’s gonna go down should stay between us. Tell me why I’m here.”
Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as a brick. Maybe he was just as stupid as a rock. Still an object, but half as deadly.
“I want half the money from the fight—and a promise you will never go after me, my friends, my parents, and most of all …” I raised an octave, my tone cutting the air like a blade. “My girlfriend.”
Grace and I weren’t together, but a guy could dream.
Kade rolled his head on the couch, a metallic laugh slipping between his lips.
“You ain’t getting a dime of my money. I won it fair and square, and while you have my word I won’t hurt your girl, I can’t promise I won’t hit on her. A nice piece of ass, you got yourself there. And I hear she’s newly single now. Well, whaddaya know? I happen to have lost my Vegas contract and moved here permanently. Can’t think of better entertainment than pounding into your sexy ex.”
“Now, Kade, let’s not—” Max started, but Appleton hurled his half-full beer can across the room at the TV. The thick, white fluid rolled down on it, foam hissing on the floor.
“Shut your suck, Riviera, the men are speaking now.”
“I …” Max stuttered.
“Go clean it up,” Kade barked. “Pretty sure Mr. and Mrs. Fugly don’t want beer on their carpet just as
much as they don’t want blood.”
I choked my armrests, feeling my jaw flexing. I needed to play this right, even if my natural response was to kill the bastard. Getting dragged into his hysterics would be amateur and unconstructive to the end goal.
“You might want to rethink that, Appleton,” I said serenely.
“Oh, yeah? And why’s that?” He shot me a stony glare.
I hunted my phone out of my front pocket, found what I was looking for, and held it out for him to see. He crouched forward reluctantly, watching.
It was a video of him and Shaun, launching two pit bulls at each other. The dogs ripped at each other savagely, with Kade and his manager cheering them on, laughing and making faces. There was a circle of people around the bloodied canines. You could see their faces clearly, and you could tell none of those assholes knew they were being taped.
One of the dogs plowed its teeth into the other’s neck, producing so much blood, the injured dog whimpered and plopped sideways, fighting violent spasms as it bled out. It didn’t stop the winning dog from tearing into it.
One of the pit bulls ate the other one alive, while it was crying for help.
It was so brutal, even my desensitized ass couldn’t watch it. When Kade’s ex-girlfriend agreed to send me those videos, I’d promised I would put an end to his dog-fighting days. That wasn’t a promise I intended to break. In fact, I was going to make sure that from this point forward, every time I promised someone anything, I’d see it through.
“Where’d you get this?” He sat up straight, looking alert now. He tried to snatch the phone from my hand, but I swiftly tucked it back into my pocket.
“None of your goddamn business. Now, just so we’re clear, you arranging dog fights with the human brick also known as Shaun, on top of the probation you’re on for beating up your ex-girlfriend? Yeah, that’s a big ol’ pile of offenses. Me thinks your fighting skills may be handy in prison, unless you’re fine with being everyone’s little bitch.”
