The Burn List

by Jennifer Dawson

  Minutes later, I stand over the restroom sink washing my hands under cold water, letting the icy liquid flow over my fingers and jolt me out of my pity party.

  This stops now.

  I will not allow the past and a strained relationship with my sister color my perception of reality. I’ve been doing that for too long and it needs to end. I know who Lukas is and he’s not going to abandon me because Eden is hot.

  I know better than that.

  I take a cleansing breath. When will I finally believe, in that deep-down soul level, that I’m not less of a person because I’m not as pretty as Eden? When would that magical day come when I recognize my value?

  This…feeling, the dread in my stomach, it has nothing to do with Lukas and everything to do with me.

  “You’re out of your league, you know.”

  Lost in thought, I hadn’t heard the door open, but Eden stands in the threshold in all her glory.

  She’s buzzed and mean. I can see it in her glazed eyes, the determination to cut me. I understand I have things to work on, but when she’s like this the best thing to do is get away from her as fast as possible. I meet her gaze in the mirror. “I’m not going to discuss Lukas with you.”

  Eden lets the door swing closed behind her. She smirks. “Don’t fool yourself, girls like you don’t end up with guys like him.”

  The statement is a direct hit. Eden always knows where to plunge the knife deepest for the most damage. My bravado is shaken but it’s still there. I don’t have to take this from her.

  I can take another course of action than disappearing into the background.

  I turn off the faucet, shaking my hands. “Maybe not, but don’t fool yourself, he won’t end up with a girl like you either.”

  Eden runs a hand over her perfect hips, encased in skintight white. “Keep telling yourself that, little sister.”

  This is about her, not me.

  I dry my hands and turn around, looking my sister square in the eye. I don’t have complete control of my life yet, I might be uncertain about my future with Lukas and fighting a mess of insecurities—but I can stop taking crap from my sister right this second. I can use my strengths, my brain and sharp tongue to hit back.

  I take a deep breath and raise my chin. “I won’t deny it. You are a beautiful woman and there are plenty of men in this world who will fall for you in a heartbeat. You are clearly perfect eye candy.” I take two steps forward and I’m pleased to see Eden’s vicious smile wavers. I tilt my head. “But the thing is, Eden that’s all you are. Which is a shame because you could be so much more.”

  With the strength of my words, my spine straightens a little more and the weight I’ve been carrying around for too many years to count, eases a little.

  Eden tosses her hair over her shoulder and looks down her nose like the cliché of an evil queen in a Disney movie. “I’m doing just fine. And what would you know? Unlike you, I understand men, and they don’t like prissy, perfect girls.”

  I smile. “Yeah, well, the good ones—the guys like Lukas who will really love you—don’t like vapid, washed-up alcoholics either. You’re thirty-two, don’t you think it’s time you did more with your life than spread your legs for the next guy to offer you a Grey Goose martini?”

  Eden gasps, her model-high cheekbones splashing with pink.

  I can’t deny I experience a certain sense of satisfaction. It’s a small step, but it’s something. And maybe Eden will think twice before her next attack.

  Probably not, but I can hope.

  Before Eden can say anything else, I step around her and walk out, head held high.

  I run right into Lukas.

  He grins at me. That wicked grin that makes my heart beat double time. “I was coming to rescue you, but I see you’re doing just fine on your own.”

  I look at him, this man I’d lost my heart to and know it’s time make some decisions. I can’t keep asking for nothing because that’s all I think I deserve. If I don’t stand up for what I want, nobody else will.

  It’s time to stop expecting less.

  I raise my chin. “I’d like to go home.”

  Lukas

  I glance at Abby, who sits practically motionless in the passenger seat. She’s been silent for the fifteen minutes we’ve been driving, staring out the window. Her stillness worries me. The way she doesn’t look at me worries me. I’d wanted to give her space to shake off the ugly scene in the restaurant, but now she’s just making me nervous.

  And I have no idea what to do about it.

  God, her sister is a piece of work. I’ve known women like her and have always stayed far away. Sure, I dated party girls, but I’m smart enough to avoid the mean ones.

  And Eden Simmons is a mean one.

  I can’t believe Abby grew up with that. She’d told me, but until I saw it for myself, I didn’t understand how bad it was.

  And her parents, they just let the viper control everything and beat up on Abby. I kept waiting for them to put Eden in her place, but the time never came. Since they’d refused to stick up for Abby, I’d been prepared to step in, but she’d managed all on her own.

  I’m proud of her, except, something has changed.

  Since she stepped out of that bathroom she’s been remote, and I don’t know how to reach her or what to do about it. I grab her hand. Her fingers are icy despite the warm weather, and she doesn’t squeeze back the way she normally does.

  The urge to talk and break through this distance is too overwhelming and I say, “You know, your sister is jealous of you.”

  “I doubt that.” Her voice is soft, too soft.

  “That’s because you can’t see it as an outsider would.” I’m desperate to make her see, for her to understand how special she is. Like if I can just fix it and make her believe, everything will be fine.

  “I know what outsiders see,” she says, still not looking away from the window. Still answering in that flat tone.

  “You don’t though,” I insist as the first threads of true panic weave a tight knot in my gut.

  She turns away from the window and narrows her gaze, shaking her head. “Don’t try and tell me she’s not beautiful.”

  My heart bangs against my ribs and I pull into my driveway, turn off the ignition, and shift in the bucket seat to face her. I want to lie. Every male instinct I possess tells me to deny her beauty, but I can’t. Abby’s too logical for that, too pragmatic. Her and her damned realism.

  I nod. “Yes, she is. But inside she’s ugly and broken.”

  It’s the god’s honest truth, I only hope she sees it in my expression.

  “I know.”

  The words bring me no sense of relief. I pick up Abby’s cool hand and press my lips to her fingertips. “You, however, are the whole package. Smart. Beautiful. And totally irresistible.”

  Those brown eyes of hers don’t thaw even the tiniest bit. Instead her jaw hardens. “I don’t want to be compared to her anymore.”

  How can I make her believe? There’s got to be some way to crack myself open so she understands what she means to me. I keep trying with words that seem to be failing. “Abby, that’s what you don’t understand. There is no comparison.”

  She pulls out of my grasp and turns back toward the window. “It’s you who doesn’t understand.”

  Real fear, the kind I’ve only known a few times in my life when I’d been in particularly gruesome fires, rises, beating in my veins. I take a deep breath and blow it out, wanting to stay calm. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

  She’s silent for a good minute before she runs her hands through her hair. “My whole life—my parents, friends, teachers, anyone who’s ever met Eden—has offered me the same encouraging little speech you just did.” She gestures in the air. “Eden’s jealous of you. You have all these things she doesn’t have, you’re so bright and smart, you have such a bright future. On and on and on…” She meets my gaze, and there’s something there that hadn’t been there before. “Don’t
you understand? All that poor Abby, hand-patting and bright-eyed reassurance, all they do is reinforce the message that I’m somehow lacking.”

  Mother fucker.

  Dread crawls up my spine as I grasp the full impact of my mistake. I’d never thought of it like that. How the message would be perceived, even though that’s not remotely how I want Abby to feel.

  “You don’t think I saw how you looked at her? How everyone looks at her?” She smiles at me, all understanding.

  And there it is. Of course Abby hadn’t missed it. She’s too observant for it.

  I’d fallen victim to it. Of everything Abby is saying.

  The truth is, Abby told me Eden was beautiful, but I’d thought she’d been exaggerating. She hadn’t. I’d been thrown off balance when Eden walked into the restaurant looking like she stepped out of the pages of a magazine. I hadn’t wanted her, or wanted Abby less, I’d just been…surprised.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, what I really hate myself for, is that my first impulse was to turn to Abby and reassure her. Since I’m not a total idiot, I’d ignored the instinct, but it had been there.

  I’m guilty of every single thing she’s accusing me of, but she doesn’t understand how I feel about her. “Abby—“

  She holds up a hand. “Stop. I’m going to go into my house now.”

  “Wait—”

  “No.” She looks longingly at her front porch, like she can’t wait to get away from me. “I need to be alone and think.”

  The last words I want to hear. As much as I hate it, I have to respect her wishes. I have one more hope left. I nod. “Do you still want to go to the club tonight?”

  She tilts her head, assessing me. “I don’t know. Why don’t you pick me up at eight and we’ll decide then.”

  I’m defeated. Out of moves. And I have no one to blame but myself. I have no choice but to give her the time and space she needs, but then I will fight for her. “All right, but, Abby, we will talk about this.”

  She opens the car door, moving to get out before glancing back at me over her shoulder. “Yes, we will.”

  Somehow I don’t think that’s a good sign, but it’s the only thing I’ve got.

  11

  Abby

  I’ve made my decision.

  I’m sitting here in my new, skimpy electric-blue dress and mile-high silver strappy sandals, waiting for Lukas to take me to a sex club—one of the last items on the list that started this all—and I’m completely calm. Resolute.

  The bravery I’ve been building for the last six weeks has done its job, because I’m about to be very brave, and I have no fear.

  I have no idea what the night will hold or how it will end, but the time has come to take charge of my life and my happiness. Like the fateful night I’d propositioned Lukas, I’m going for it.

  Although this time I don’t have tequila as fuel. All I have is me.

  I straighten in my chair. This time I face my future with a clear head.

  The clock strikes eight and the doorbell rings. Like he’s been doing for weeks, he doesn’t wait for me to answer but opens the front door. His head cautiously peeks through the door like a turtle coming out its shell. “Abby?”

  “I’m in here,” I call, amazed at my steady nerves. After a wreck of an afternoon, alternating between anger, fear and tears, as soon as I’d made my decision, an eerie calm descended over me.

  Lukas wasn’t the only action I’m taking.

  I’d called my parents and told them I was sick of every event in my life turning into the Eden show and I wasn’t going to put up with it anymore.

  Then I called Eden and told her she was no longer my sister until she cleans up her act.

  Now, I waited to find out my fate with Lukas.

  He walks into the living room, looking dark and dangerous in all black. Brown hair tousled, his hands are tucked into pockets as he leans against the wall, gaze wary. As he gives me a long, slow onceover, a muscle in his jaw ticks.

  “You look gorgeous.” The words are matter-of-fact.

  The automatic denial sits perched on my lips but I bite it back, squaring my shoulders. “Thank you.”

  He glances at the couch. “Can I sit?”

  “Of course.” I nod.

  Well, this is going rather formally.

  He perches on the edge of the sofa, splaying his knees and lacing his fingers. “Are you ready to talk about today?”

  My stomach jumps. This is it. My heart takes off in a gallop, breaking through the hazy peace that has enveloped me the last couple of hours. The only way out is in and I dive, unable to procrastinate any longer. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  What looks a lot like anger flashes across his expression before his eyes go flat. “What can’t you do?”

  “This. Us. It’s not enough.” Nausea rises thick in my throat and I want to choke on it. But I can’t back down, I have to do this.

  He runs a hand through his hair and expels a long, hard breath. “I promised myself I’d stay calm, but fuck, Abby.” He jerks up from the couch and starts to pace. Stalking around the room like a caged jungle cat. “I don’t understand. I thought everything was going great between us, and after one crappy afternoon you’re ready to throw it all away?”

  “I’m sorry.” It’s harder than I thought. I bite my lip to squash the threatening tears before I continue. “Today forced me to realize I can’t be casual. I need more. I deserve more. I can’t be second best all my life, Lukas.”

  He stops in his tracks and slowly looks at me, the ice in his eyes chilling me to the bone. “Don’t put that on me, babe, you do that all on your own.”

  I want him gone so I can curl up on the couch and bawl until there’s nothing left before picking up the pieces of my life. “I’m not saying I don’t have some things to work through, but it doesn’t change the facts.”

  He storms over, grabs my shoulders and hauls me off the chair. “You know what your problem is, you’re so caught in the facts you’ve missed the big picture.”

  His vehemence shocks me, keeps me frozen, but I manage to say, “I see everything clearly.”

  “Bullshit.” He squeezes my upper arms and shakes me a little. “I thought about this, and I was going to be nice and gentle and take my time to prove it to you, but fuck that. You need a good smack on the ass and don’t think you won’t be getting plenty of those later.”

  “Let me go.” I can’t think when he’s this close. Why can’t he just bow out gracefully?

  He releases me and I teeter on my high heels before he steadies me. He takes a step toward me and I step back. His eyes narrow. “Yeah, you’d better run, because when I catch you, I’m taking all this aggression out on you.”

  I gasp, unsure what’s going on, but retreating out of instinct.

  He keeps coming.

  I swallow hard.

  He points at my chest. “You want to know why people pat you on the hand and feel sorry for you? Because that’s how you feel about yourself. No one will ever stop feeling sorry for you until you do.”

  “I know, damn it,” I yell, my temper finally getting the better of me. I throw up my hands. “That’s why I’m doing this. I want it all, and I’m not going to settle for less.”

  “And how the hell am I not giving you everything you want?” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Fuck, Abby! I’m going to a stupid sex club I don’t want to go to because you want it. I’m doing everything and anything I can think of to keep you happy and satisfied and it’s not enough.”

  The change of subject startles me and my next argument falters. Wait, what does he mean by that? I frown. “You don’t want to go?”

  I’m still walking backward and he’s still coming.

  “No I don’t want to go! Jesus, you think I want to watch a bunch of guys drool over you and try and arrange a threesome? Do you think I want someone to watch me fuck you and cheapen the whole experience?”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” I bang into the wall.


  He presses against me and I try desperately not to get distracted.

  “Because I want to make you happy.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and his expression softens. “Do you know I’ve stayed up nights thinking about ways to convince you how fantastic you are? How much I want you? How I can’t stop thinking about you? How important you are to me?”

  I blink, licking my lips. “You do?”

  “Yes.” He trails a finger over my jaw. “I love you, Abby.”

  When I’d decided to demand more, I never thought this would be the outcome. This has to be a dream. “Wh-what?”

  “I’m in love with you, I have been for a while.”

  “Oh.” It’s so unexpected I can’t formulate a coherent thought.

  He strokes over my cheek. “Tell me what I need to do to convince you? To make you believe me?”

  He said he loves me, but I still have to ask for what I want. His declaration doesn’t change that.

  This is ten-times scarier than sending my list, but I do it anyway. “I want a commitment. I’m not saying marriage, but a relationship.”

  “That’s funny,” he says, brushing a soft kiss over my lips. “I thought we were in a relationship.”

  “You did?”

  “Hell, Abby, I haven’t slept without you unless I’m at work, I spend every second I have with you, I walk into your house as though it’s mine and I love you. That sounds a lot like a relationship to me.”

  Now I feel kind of stupid for not thinking of it like that.

  I scrape my teeth over my lower lip. I have to tell him how I feel. “I love you too.” I’ve never said the words before. They feel strange but right on my tongue.

  He runs his hands up my bare arms. “I want to marry you.”

  “You do?” I still can’t quite believe this.

  “You’ll be marrying my job too, though. It’s not easy; ask my mom when you meet her tomorrow. Most couples don’t make it. I wanted to give you time to get use to me and give you a chance to decide if you can handle it.” He smiles at me. “This isn’t the way I envisioned things going, but I’ve come to find you’re a woman who likes risk, and I want you to know I’m in it for the long haul.”