X X X
“You asked me what I think about Noah Scott?” Ty laughs. “Oh, yeah,” he says around his cig. “Your boyfriend's real fuckin' nice. What a cutie. I heart the fuck out of him. What a catch.” I take the cigarette from my mouth and throw it at Ty. It doesn't come even close to hitting him. He snuffs it out with his boot. “Honestly? I want to smash his face in. Is that what you want to hear?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“I don't know, Ty. Jesus Christ, I wasn't asking you for dating advice.”
“What were you asking me then?” he says and then sighs. I watch as Ty wraps this awesome self-control around himself. It's almost a physical change, very impressive, something I could never do. “Look, it doesn't matter. I'm mildly okay with this, alright? I mean, if you choose me because I tie you up in the bedroom and forbid you to see him, what good does that do me?” Ty pauses. “Though I'm not opposed to doing that if you're interested.”
“Ty,” I say, leveling a look on him. If he's going to freak out and run off, fuck some bitch behind my back, I want to know now.
“I want you to choose me for me,” Ty says and my heart turns to slush in my chest. “I want you to say fuck Noah Scott and mean it. When you can do that, really do that, come tell me. It'll happen, I know it will.”
X X X
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Enjoyed This?
More Books By
About the Author
C.M. Stunich
Sarian Royal
Finding Never
Copyright © C.M. Stunich 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
For information address Sarian Royal Indie Publishing, 1863 Pioneer Pkwy. E Ste. 203, Springfield, OR 97477-3907.
www.sarianroyal.com
ISBN-10: 1938623460(eBook)
ISBN-13: 978-1-938623-46-2(eBook)
Edited by Brandy Little of "Little Bee's Editing Services"
Cover art and design © Amanda Carroll and Sarian Royal
Optimus Princeps font © Manfred Klein
Conrad Veidt font ©Bumbayo Font Fabrik
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.
to those who thought they'd Never love again,
but found the strength to carry on.
1
Ty and I are sitting on a dirty Greyhound bus with our hands tangled together between us. Neither of us is speaking, I think, because neither of us knows what to say. This is new territory for both of us and it's scary as hell. There's sweat collecting between our heated flesh, but I can't tell if it's mine or his or both because I can hardly breathe. I still barely understand what happened between us last night. All I know for sure is that making love and sex are two totally different things, and I can finally tell them apart.
I turn to Ty after too long of staring out the dirty window on my left and try to catch his attention by shaking his hand. It's not the one with the rings and bracelets, but I wish it was so that it would jingle. There's something decidedly cheerful about that sound. When he turns to face me, his dark eyes are contemplative and far away but happy, just a little bit happy. He likes me – loves me maybe – and it's putting this smirk on his face that tries to lift my spirit from the floor and shake it.
“If you gave notice at your apartment,” I begin. “Where are you going to live?” Ty winks at me and pulls out a cigarette, pausing only because the old lady across the aisle from us is tapping him on the shoulder and gesturing angrily at the No Smoking sign that hangs crookedly at the front of the bus. Ty sighs and slips the cig back in his pocket. I think there's a time coming in the far off future where the two of us are going to have to quit. Not yet, not now though. I don't think I'll survive this trip if I quit now.
“Why, at the dorms of course!” Ty says as his hand moves from mine and finds a resting spot on my knee. It's only when he starts sliding it up my thigh that I stop him. I stare him straight in the eyes and try not to notice the girl in the front row who's been eyeballing him. He hasn't looked at her, not once. I don't think he even sees her. All Ty sees now is me.
“But you said you'd have nowhere to go?” I ask him and watch as his dimples fade and his smile becomes a little less happy, a little more melancholy. He nods and rubs at his chin with his other hand. His dark hair is still a bit damp, dripping tantalizing drops down the back of his neck that soak into the fabric of his already soggy T-shirt. We haven't been driving long, maybe an hour tops, and it's so fucking damp and humid in here that I've spent the whole ride with my window cracked, despite the rude stares from in front and the grumbles behind me.
“If you'd have turned me down, do you really think I would've stuck around? Gone to the same college? Fuck that, Never.” I swallow hard and try to think up something to say. I don't know how to handle a situation like this. Love 'em and leave 'em, that was my previous policy. Now, here I am on a two thousand fucking mile drive with Ty McCabe who I don't know, not really. I feel him though, inside and out and everywhere and nowhere all at once. I am Ty McCabe and I'm not. He's me and he's not. It doesn't make any sense to me, but I know it's all true. I'm in love. I think. Things are bound to get twisted.
“What do you think Vanessa would say if she knew what we were doing?” I ask, thinking of our Sexual Obsession Group leader. “If she knew what we did … ” I reach up and touch the chip that's still hanging from my ear. It was a proof of success and now it's a proof of failure, too. I start to take it off and stop only when Ty's long fingers wrap around my wrist.
“Vanessa would say, Go get 'em girl,” he tells me and pauses. “And she'd also say, Don't you dare let her take that fucking earring off.” I stare at him and know that he isn't telling me everything. His blue nose ring glints in the yucky fluorescent lighting as I slump back against the cracked window and try to enjoy the cool breeze against my neck.
“You talked to her, didn't you?” I ask him, and he smiles. I slap Ty's muscular arm hard and am satisfied at the cracking sound my gesture makes. His dimples are back though, so I can tell that he's in a good mood. I wish mine was as perky as his. But it can't be. It just can't because I'm on the road of no return. What I do here will define everything and I mean everything that will happen in my future. From Ty to my college career to my future job, all of it rides on this stupid trip. I know that and it's why I'm here. It's also why my past won't stop whispering dirty things to me, reminding me why I left and how my mother betrayed me and
how my daddy's corpse is six fucking feet under, rotting in hell or heaven or floating through the river Styx … I don't know, and I don't claim to. All I know is that my family chose not to believe me, that they'd rather live with a murderer than face the truth.
I hate my mother.
“I called her after you left. I had a panic attack, Never. You can't just turn someone's world upside down and then leave.”
“I can do whatever the hell I want,” I tell him, but I do take his hand in mine and squeeze it tightly. I don't want Ty getting the wrong idea, getting off this bus and finding some other girl to bury his pain in. I close my eyes and try to fill my belly with air. He doesn't acknowledge my statement, just keeps talking which is fine with me. I could use a distraction from my thoughts. They're such a jumbled mess that I don't even know how to begin untangling them. What am I doing on this goddamn bus? Why I am going back there? How do I even know they'll be happy to see me? What if I see that murderer in the flesh? What will I do? How will I react?
“I told her that we made love, and she was supportive.” I roll my eyes, but inside, I'm secretly happy that Vanessa knows. Despite my attitude in group, I look up to her, whether she knows it or not. “Although she did tell me that I was an asshole.”
“You are an asshole,” I tell him as I stare into his eyes. “You begged and pleaded until you got what you wanted. Feel better now?”
“No,” he tells me as he leans across the seat and runs his hand through my hair, pulls my face to his and kisses the hell out of me. I can't even breathe; my lips are on fire and my heart has just exploded into a million pieces, been sucked out of me by Ty's breathe, the feel of his mouth against mine, the warmth of his body hovering so tantalizingly close. When he pulls back, he runs the knuckles of his ringed hand down my cheek. “I'm starving.”
“For a sandwich?” I say, but I know that isn't even remotely what he's talking about.
“For you,” he tells me, unperturbed by my attitude. See, Ty gets me. He gets that I'm fucked up and he knows that I know that he's just as screwed up, so we work together, him and me.
“This isn't going to be easy,” I warn him, my breath brushing his lips and making him shiver.
“Fuck easy,” Ty tells me and kisses me again. I keep my eyes open and watch the butterfly tattoos on the back of his hand. Somehow, even in this terrible light, they seem to sparkle with a bit of hope.
2
At the rest stop, I have my first panic attack. I stumble into the women's bathroom and lean against the wall with one hand while I gasp for breath and try to keep my head from spinning like crazy. I'm going home … I'm going home … I'm going home … It's been five years, and I'm going home.
Women pass by and whisper but nobody stops to help me. I could be having a fucking heart attack and nobody cares. I force myself across the dirty tile floor and lean over the sink with my head hanging down and my hair kissing the wet porcelain. A watery reflection looks back up at me from the sink and shivers as I splash my hand into it. When I look up, I see Ty in the mirror behind me. He's standing at the entrance to the bathroom with a cigarette dangling from his lips.
“Want to talk about it?” he asks me as he moves aside for a group of giggling girls. They whisper and look him up and down as they pass. I want to say, You have no idea what you're getting yourselves into. You can't handle a man like this. But I don't. I just nod and follow Ty outside to a patch of grass under a small, sickly tree. It looks decidedly pissed off to have been planted next to the smelly restroom and I don't blame it a bit.
“This isn't about you,” I tell Ty as I pull the cigarette from his mouth and take a drag. The smoke fills my lungs, clouds the severity of the situation from my frantic mind, just the way it always does. I sigh and watch the crackling cherry with pinpoint focus. “This is about my family.”
“I figured as much,” Ty says as he sits down and stretches out his long legs. They're encased in dark jeans, topped with a pair of black boots, no laces. Typical Ty. He looks incredible, perfect, edible, dangerous. I am playing with fire here and no matter what happened between us last night, I have to remember that. His shirt, after all, does say Doesn't Play Well With Others. Too true. “After all, how could anyone have a problem with me?” he asks with a smile. I smile back, but mine is tight. Ty nods and pulls out another cigarette, lights it, and blows smoke into the cool air.
“I don't know what I'm doing here.” Ty's smile fades a bit as he takes the cigarette between two fingers. His bracelets jingle in the quiet space between here and there as he gestures for me to sit next to him. I fold my arms over my chest and wait. My nerves are stretched too taut to sit still, not when I know I have to get back on that bus. I start to pace.
“Sure you do,” he tells me and I wonder when he got all of this control over himself. He seems so put together, not at all like the dark, tortured soul I know he is. Inside of him is a monster. I know that because I have the same one inside of me. Right now, it's telling me that my family doesn't give a shit whether I live or die, that they're happy I'm gone. If you go back, it says, you'll only be digging your own grave. And Noah Scott? You were just an easy chance at a lay. He knew that then and he knows that now.
“Shut up!” I shout as I clamp my hands over my ears. My cigarette flies from my mouth and topples end over end, hits the wet grass and fizzles out in the dew. Ty reaches over, grabs it and lights it again. When he hands it up to me, his dimples deepen with a heartfelt smile.
“You see that?” he asks, and I have no idea what he's referring to. “Even when you think the fire's been put out, you can always start it up again.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” I say as I take it from his hands. I sound meaner than I want to and flop down next to Ty with the intention of holding his hand. Instead, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him, puts my head against his chest and cups it there with a handful of butterflies. I change the subject. “When you said I was yours … ”
“I meant it,” Ty says and that's it. We both stop talking.
3
Ty is an enigma to me.
He's still the wounded soul that I met at the bar, but he's also something different now. I can't quite put my finger on it, but when he looks at me, his eyes are full of color and life that attracts me like a moth to flames. I'm just going to have to do my best not to get burned. Ty could do that now, so easily that he could reduce me to a pile of ash without my even knowing it. I've given him this massive hold over me and my proverbial heart is beating in the palm of his hand, in his ringed, calloused hand.
“Tell me about your sisters again,” Ty says sleepily. It's the middle of the day, but we're both exhausted. Granted, neither of us got much sleep last night. I smile. Frown. “I can't remember their names,” he whispers into the crook of my shoulder and admittedly, I shiver. I'm not used to having a boy sleep next to me like this. His hair is so mussy and his face is so soft and vulnerable … “They were like the seven dwarves or something. Sleepy, Dopey, Horny … ” I can't hold back a laugh as I pull at a clump of Ty's hair. “Ouch! Kidding, just kidding. Seriously though, tell me about them again.” Ty pauses and I can feel a shift in the air. “Tell me about them and about Noah Scott.” I swallow hard because I knew that was coming. As soon as I saw Ty at the train station, I knew it.
“In descending order,” I start with a smile. “Beth, Never, Jade, Zella, India, Lettie, and Lorri.” And then I stop talking because it's been five years. What if there are sisters that I don't know about? That don't know me? My throat closes up and I suddenly can't speak. Ty senses my shift in attitude and sits up so that he can look straight at me. He doesn't say a thing though, somehow sensing that there's nothing he can say.
“Hungry?” he asks and I nod. I'm starving in more ways than one. I'm just as hungry for Ty as I am for the sub that he's just pulled out of his bag. I stare at it, look at him and try to stop the world from spinning around me.
“Thanks,” I say and my voice sounds
very soft. It nearly gets stolen away in the rumble from the bus and the chatter of other passengers. Ty hears it though, and somehow I get this feeling that he will always hear it. A whisper, a scream, no matter what I say, Ty will hear me. I swallow and look down at the sandwich, unwrap the white paper covering and wonder how the hell he knew I liked pastrami and Swiss.
“I just got you the same thing as me,” Ty says with a slight smile and then he pauses and frowns, one hand still stuck in his backpack, eyes locked on me like he's just seen something that pisses him off. “Goddamn it, Never. Why didn't you tell me where you were going?” The change in subject is so abrupt that I find myself speechless. I pick up the sandwich, put it to my lips and chew. We both like Marlboro Reds, both eat pastrami and Swiss, and both have holes in our hearts big enough to swallow us whole. What the fuck? “If you'd have told me, I would've understood. I would've come.”
“Good thing you got Swiss; I don't eat cheddar,” I tell him as he starts in on his food. Like he cares about that. What he wants to know is why I tried to run, why I left him after everything we've been through together. Fortunately, he doesn't press his question. Maybe it's because he knows that I don't really have an answer for that. Because I got scared? Because I don't know what I'm doing here? Why I'm going? Why I even left?
“I fucking hate cheddar, too,” Ty says instead, but he doesn't look at me. He stares down at his sandwich and then closes his eyes as he takes a bite, like he's savoring some five star fucking delicacy. I look at him and I wonder. I wonder how long he watched me stand there before he approached. I wonder how he knew I was going to be at the bus station. I wonder why he decided I was worth chasing down.
We sit in silence for awhile as the light outside the bus fades from yellow to pink, softens its way into night, into that quiet space that I could never stand. When I finish my sandwich, I hand the garbage back to Ty and watch as he stuffs it in his bag, leans back, and puts his arm around me. He turns his head so that his breath stirs my hair and sighs, nice and deep and long, one of those sighs that take everything that's swirling around inside of you and push it out.
Finding Never (Never say Never) Page 1
