I stiffened at his words, but he had every right to feel that way. I had let this happen. I hadn’t been able to keep Dev from getting at Claudia. The image of Dev over her, touching her, still haunted me. I rubbed my forehead hard, so hard it hurt. Realizing I had to say something, I straightened my shoulders and met his eyes.
“Mr. Chiametti, I’m pissed at myself for letting Claudia get hurt. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. None of this was her fault, and I take full responsibility for what happened,” I said. “At the time this all went down, my mother was very sick, and I didn’t want to get involved. I only took the knife from him because he threatened to use it against me.”
Claudia’s father seemed to calm a little. He sat back down and reclaimed his coffee cup. “While those reasons may be all well and good, there can be legal ramifications. You could be indicted for obstruction of justice.”
He pulled a business card out of his breast pocket and slid it across the table to me. It had the name of an attorney on it. “With Rudack’s sworn testimony, you should be cleared of any involvement, but if you need legal counsel, he’s a good guy.”
I rubbed at a crick in my neck. I’d been so uptight, everything felt stiff.
“Thank you,” I said, and picking up the card, I rose to my feet. Hesitantly, I held out my hand to him.
Mr. Chiametti eyed me briefly before he finally shook my hand. “You’re welcome, son, but before I let you go, I want you to promise to talk to Claudia. She won’t say what happened between you two, but it’s obvious you upset her. I think you need to straighten that out with her. You owe my daughter a debt of gratitude. She went to bat for you.”
Not able to look at him, I lowered my eyes. “I will,” I agreed. “Is she here? I’d like to see her now—if that’s okay.”
“Not tonight. She’s resting. Another time.”
Mr. Chiametti led me to the door, and it clicked shut behind me.
I stood on the front lawn and looked up at Claudia’s bedroom window, imagining what she was doing and what was going through her mind.
The past few days, I’d been in a giant, silent bubble. I saw lots of people, they spoke, offered the typical condolences and stuff, but it was all a blur. Joan was a buffer against most of the happenings, handling details, telling me where to be and when to go.
I remembered April’s words to me at the funeral. “Stop being so mean to Claudia. She’s only trying to do the right thing. Remember, this hurts her, too.”
It was true. I’d seen it. Seen her leaning over Julia’s body, crying—her pale, cheerless face when she’d said goodbye.
With no one left to fight but myself, my anger cooled. I realized I shredded Claudia. I went after her as if she’d been responsible for all my pain. To protect myself, I put a tourniquet on, effectively cutting off the flow of any emotions.
I kept thinking how I needed to see her, to hear her voice, and to hold her. To feel her softness. She would make me feel better—but then I would remember I had amputated that part of me.
I had no answer for the way I acted. I only knew I’d made a monumental mess of everything, and I was filled with guilt over it all.
After things had finally settled, I went to see Diane and asked her to tell me exactly what went down the night Julia died and I’d run to Ray’s house from the hospital.
At first, she laughed.
“You drank. A lot. I had to help you take a piss. That was quite an experience.” When I pressed her for details, she said, “There was a moment or two where it had the potential to turn into something more, but you were so sad and lost that night. I felt bad. I just held you. Eventually you fell asleep.”
“Sorry you had to put up with me,” I mumbled.
“Ah,” she waved at me. “I’m no saint. But I do have some scruples.”
After the talk with Claudia’s father, I continued to stare at Claudia’s window. The light in her room was on. I thought about how easily I’d vaulted off the porch roof the morning after we’d been together.
I hardly wanted to piss old pops off after we’d come to an understanding, but now that I was standing there so close to where Claudia was, I needed to see her. I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about her until I did.
I plotted a climbable route up to the roofline, and, going over to the side of the porch, I climbed the steps. Anchoring my foot on the porch railing, I gripped the edge overhead and hoisted myself up. Keeping low, I scaled the short distance across the roofline to her window and rapped on the glass. Inside, the sound of muffled footsteps came closer.
“Claude,” I called loud enough for her to hear, but hopefully not so loud her father overheard.
“Toby?” She pulled the curtain aside and concentrated on unlocking and pulling open the window.
Not giving her a chance to stop me, I dove through the window, Navy Seal style, and rolled to my feet.
Claudia stepped back, her eyebrows furrowed. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I came to see you.”
“You’re crazy,” she said and pointed back at the window. “You need to leave. Turn around and crawl right back out.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not leaving until we talk.”
“My father’s downstairs.” She crossed her arms defensively. “I’ll call him up.”
At the taunt, I lifted my eyes to hers, daring her to carry it out. “Go ahead. I’m still not leaving, Claude. I have something important to tell you.”
Impatient, she sighed, “Then say it and go.”
“I spoke to Diane.”
“Who the hell’s Diane?”
“Ray’s mother.” Recognition lit her eyes, and they narrowed in anger.
“How nice. You talked for a change.”
“Nothing happened between us.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Then why would you say something did? Even Devlin seemed to think there was something going on between you two.”
“Dev didn’t know shit,” I snapped but realized it wouldn’t do any good to lose my temper. More calmly, I said, “I was upset. She only lay down with me.”
“So, you were in bed with her!”
“Yeah, but that was the only time and I wasn’t with her. We didn’t have sex. She consoled me. She said I fell asleep next to her. Actually, I passed out.”
I wanted to touch her, to assure her the night with Diane meant nothing, but as I moved closer, her eyes widened and she stepped back.
“Oh, great, there is such a thing as a happy ending after all,” she bit out. “Thanks for clarifying that. Now leave.”
“I thought if you knew what really happened, it might somehow make a difference.” I lowered my voice and took a tentative step closer. “Claude, I miss you.”
Her answer to my confession was to scowl and put her hands on her hips.
“Are you trying to tell me if you hadn’t passed out, you still wouldn’t have done anything?”
“No, I don’t think I would have,” I told her.
“You don’t think you would have?” she snorted. “By your own admission, you were hammered. I’d say we’re both aware that being in that condition lowers inhibitions. I might be naïve about a lot of things, but I don’t believe what happened in Diane’s bedroom was as ‘G’ rated as you say.”
I couldn’t meet her eyes. I couldn’t deny it.
“Do you understand how much trust and faith it took for me to be intimate with you? Was I just another piece of ass to you? My virginity some kind of trophy?”
“Come on, you know it was never like that,” I objected.
“Why should I believe you? Everything you’ve done since that night has been hurtful. You did mean, terrible things and ran off when you should have stayed. I could have forgiven you for everything you’ve done. But telling me you never loved me and getting in bed with another woman?” She swallowed. “I can’t get past that. I can’t forgive you.”
“I didn’t have sex with her. And while I might’ve kept some thin
gs from you, I never lied to you,” I persisted.
“How can you say that? Everything I know about you is a lie!” Her eyes sparked with anger. “You have this crazy, maniacal dark side that emerges at the mere mention of anything from your brother to a lousy day. Or a missed phone call. It doesn’t make any sense to me. But now I see that when the going gets tough, you strike at those closest to you and then you shut down.
“If I’d have seen this kind of behavior—the cursing, smoking and drinking, but mostly the hurtfulness—I’d never have agreed to go out with you in the first place. I fell in love with a lie.” Claudia clenched her hands into fists at her sides. “So, apparently you were right, Toby. Until now I hadn’t seen the real you. And being in love with the ‘real’ you hurts. I don’t need that kind of pain in my life.” Once again, she pointed purposefully at the window. “Now get out!”
As I stood there, not making any motion to go, she suddenly lurched forward and shoved me, hard. Not expecting it, I stumbled back a step. A flash of heat rose up my neck.
“Go! Get out!” she yelled. Her voice cracked despite her fury, and tears streamed down her face. I could tell she wanted to hate me right then, but I knew she didn’t.
I stared at her, our eyes held for a long, intense moment. I willed her to forgive me, to take me back, to love me again.
“Claudia,” I whispered and reached out for her.
Biting her lip, she moved closer, and for a second I thought she was coming forward to hug me, but her eyes were dark … and hard. Then I realized she was aiming to hit me. Bracing myself, I closed my eyes as she pummeled my chest with her balled fists.
“I said, go! Get out!” she yelled with each blow.
Without trying to stop her, I let her hit me. She wanted to hurt me. She needed to. And I needed to let her. It would have been easy to let her continue, but the sound of her crying and spiraling so out of control tore me apart. Cursing under my breath, I captured her arms and pinned them at her sides.
I held her tightly to me.
“Stop it,” I ordered. She tried to pull away, but after a few useless attempts, she stopped struggling. “Please, Claudia, I’m really trying here.”
Closing her eyes, she stilled. With her body pressed against mine, my body heated up, and I was slammed with that familiar ache for her. Holding her with one arm, I pressed my mouth to her temple and stroked her back in an effort to calm her. But my touch set her off in a whole other round of squirming.
There was a loud, forceful knock at the bedroom door.
“Is everything all right in there?” Her father’s voice threw me into a panic. I wasn’t finished. I hadn’t gotten to do what I’d come for.
Claudia glowered up at me obviously waiting for me to react. Her tight smile told me her father’s interruption was welcomed. She would not defend me being there. I was on my own. My heart beat hard in my chest. I looked at the door and back at her face.
The door swung open, and her father’s broad-shouldered build filled the doorway. Even as this guy, who never wanted his daughter to have anything to do with me, stood surveying the scene with a kick-ass expression on his face, I did not let her go.
38. Claudia
“Sir,” Toby said with a timorous respect. “I’m sorry we disturbed you, but I’ve only been trying to talk to Claudia. She’s making it pretty damn hard.”
“How the hell did you get back in?” Dad glared at him. “The window?”
Toby nodded, and Dad’s eyes flew to the open window. Instead of handling the matter with his normally overbearing and intense reaction, he let out a breath and actually appeared to find the situation amusing.
“Dad,” I struggled in protest against Toby’s restraint of me. “Make him leave.”
Dad put his hands on his hips and eyed Toby. Instead of sending him packing, Dad shook his head.
“Well, now, baby, I don’t believe you’re in any real danger here, and since you’ve been telling me over and over again to let you take care of yourself—that’s just what I’m going to let you do.”
“What the…?” I almost cursed out loud. “Dad?”
“Claudia, you got this,” Dad smiled and looked more seriously at my captor. “Toby, take it easy on my daughter. Don’t give me an excuse to come back up here. When you two are done talking, you’ll leave through the front door. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Toby nodded, and my father, muttering about the window, pulled the door shut.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
The silence between us was heavy until Toby loosened his hold on me. “I’ll leave once we’ve finished talking, okay?”
“Fine. Talk.” I pushed away from him and sat crossed legged on the edge of my bed.
As I chewed at my cuticles, he drifted over to a wall of shelves and looked over my dusty high school memorabilia. It was the only stuff I hadn’t purged from the room.
“I don’t know how to explain anything I’ve done other than to say, I didn’t think. I just reacted.”
I took several calming breaths, doing my best to cap my anger. We had hit bottom; we could not go any lower.
Twisting my fingers together, I finally spoke, “When you called me in California, all I could think about was being with you. Your mother’s death was a horrible ordeal to go through—so much worse alone. I expected to mourn with you—to hold you, to cry with you. We could’ve helped each other through this.” Despite my resolve to remain detached, my voice quaked. “But you were so mean. You just walked off. You left me to face it on my own.”
He spun around and wrung his hands. “I was already angry with you, Claude, but then you tricked me into going to the hospital. It wrecked me to watch Julia die after saying what I did.” His gazed dropped to his feet. “I shouldn’t have blamed you. I shouldn’t have left you, either. But you have to understand, I’ve always dealt with this kind of stuff by myself. I never considered that someone might need me.”
“Maybe it shouldn’t be such a surprise. You didn’t seem to want or need me, either.” I choked on the last word, and suddenly I was crying, again.
“Claude.” His face fell. He knelt down before me, and wrapping his arms around my waist, he held me. “I didn’t know what I needed. I’m sorry, so sorry I didn’t stay with you.” He crumbled downwards laying his head heavily in my lap.
I folded down over him, pressing my face into the solidness of his strong back, the soft cotton of his tee shirt absorbing my tears. For a moment, I took solace in being able to touch him.
We stayed together, woven in our awkward embrace, weakened by the loss that both held us together and tore us apart. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” he lamented, as his warm tears fell on my bare leg. I gently stroked his hair. This belated baring of his soul had been a long, hard battle, but it was cathartic to have him finally share some of his pain with me.
Several minutes later, he pushed upwards and wiped his face on his sleeve. He looked up at me, and only then did I see the dark shadows under his blue-grey eyes. He was like a wounded warrior, tired and weary, and my heart twinged at the thought of what he was going through.
He searched my face before he reached up and put his palm on my cheek. “I hate that I was so mean to you, but this has been hard for me. I’ve never felt this lost before,” he said hoarsely.
“Toby, things are going to be different, but you’ll get back on your feet. You have to stop drinking and smoking,” I said feeling more comfortable with where the conversation was going. “And most important, you have to control your anger.”
“I know that. I’m trying,” he said, leaning back against the bed and draping an arm over my leg. He turned to look up at me. “Claude, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you stay with me. I need you.”
Even though I’d been softened by our shared grief and his admission of regret, I had spent days trying to remove myself from feeling for him.
Pursing my lips, I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I can’t stay wi
th you.”
“No, listen, the stuff I did and said, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s behind us now. Everything I do from now on will be about you and me.” He pulled himself up to sit next to me on the bed and put his arms around me. “Claude, being with you will make me better.”
“Toby, I can’t make you better. Nobody can.”
“But being with you helps. I’m more focused around you.”
I pulled back. “I’ll help you with whatever you need. Anything, you name it,” I said. But then, looking up at him, I added, “As a friend.”
“Claudia.” He jumped to his feet. “We’re way past the fucking friend thing.”
His anger startled me, and I felt my back stiffen. “If you’re going to get mean, you better leave right now.”
Running his hand through his hair, he looked back at me. “You still love me. I know you do.”
I sighed. Of course I did, but did that matter, really? “I don’t know how to move past this. Honestly, I don’t think I can.”
“You won’t even try?” The question came out strangled.
“Not after the stuff you did. I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”
“I can go back to being the guy you know. I will. I promise,” he pleaded, once again sinking to his knees and pulling me to him.
The wounded plea devastated me, but still, I held tenaciously to my conviction.
“It isn’t as simple as making a promise.” I wiped the wetness from my eyes and moved away from him. “I’m leaving for California in a couple of days. I’ll be in a new city, at a new school and taking on some pretty tough classes. I’ll be stressed enough. Our relationship is too much to handle right now.”
Without warning, he sprung from the bed and whirled around. His face was red and his eyes dark. “So that’s it? You’re just going to take off—when I need you most?” His words stung. I could only blink; my insides recoiled, ready for an outburst. “Then just forget it. Forget that I asked anything. I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”
Saving Toby Page 26
