What Lies Beneath (Count On Me Series Book 7)

by Melyssa Winchester

  “I do.” She agrees. “I also know he feels the same.”

  Jury is still out on that. I disagree silently. Choosing instead to smile and accept her lips on mine before she busies herself making another tea. This one in her go mug.

  Looks like Sammy’s not the only one I’ve got to get on my knees and beg forgiveness from today.

  I’ve gotta figure out how to earn Tristan’s too.

  *****

  “Is that him?” Belle asks, tapping me on the shoulder before pointing out the window at the guy crossing the street in front of the car.

  Taking him in the closer he gets to the car as he passes and catching the familiar freckles that Belle spoke of when we first got into it, I swallow the lump in my throat and nod.

  “Yeah, it’s him.”

  Hearing the pop of the seatbelt as she unclicks, she slips it off her and before I can call out and stop her, she’s pushing the door back and stepping out.

  Crap.

  I was hoping for a few extra minutes to get my shit together, but apparently that was asking too much.

  Looks like this is happening now.

  Making quick work of the belt, I get out of the car, slamming the door shut right at the moment she calls out to the man now climbing the stairs to head into the house.

  “Sammy!”

  Watching as the boy I once knew tenses and turns slowly around to face us, I reach out to take her hand, but she slips just out of my reach and makes her way toward him.

  “Samuel.” I hear him reply evenly when I finally move to catch up. “No one calls me Sammy anymore.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Samuel.” Belle apologizes and with that simple move, just like she does with every person she’s been around, his shoulders relax and the faintest trace of a smile appears.

  “It’s alright. I’m sorry. You seem to know my name, but I don’t know yours. Do we know each other?”

  I could step in right now and take it from here, but before I can so much as get the words straight in my head, Belle is at it again.

  “We did.” She tells him. “Before. My name is Isabelle.”

  “Belle?” Samuel asks as recognition dawns in his eyes. All traces of his earlier reaction erased and the soft look I remember him having when we were kids taking its place.

  “Yep, and this,” she pauses, pointing toward me with the brightest smile. “This is Kayden.”

  There it is.

  The reaction I was expecting.

  It’s so subtle and quick that I don’t think Belle caught it, but the friendliness he may have had toward her is now replaced with something far different. Anger. Upset.

  Fear.

  Even after all these years and him moving away, my name still sparks a sliver of fear.

  This sucks.

  “What are you doing here?” He asks, but before either of us can answer, he asks another question and this one is even more expected than the first. “What are you doing here together?”

  Seems little Sammy remembers exactly the way things were when he left town and Belle, god love her, is completely oblivious as her cheeks are again changing colors.

  “We’re together.” I finally force out and pulling his attention away from Belle, he meets me head on. His stance hardening at the sound of my voice, but not cowering the way he used to so damn long ago.

  Good for him. If anyone should cower, it should be me.

  “What are you doing here?” he repeats.

  “Making shit right. That is, if you’re willing to hear me out.”

  “Why now?”

  “Because my head was jammed too far up my ass back then to do it?” I admit honestly.

  If he thinks for a second that I’m going to make excuses for my behavior, he’s got another thing coming. Those days are over.

  I can’t say I had a clue how this was going to go down when I decided I wanted to do it, but him laughing was definitely not part of the equation. Yet standing here now on his front lawn, the moment as tense as ever, that’s exactly what’s happening.

  “Why are you laughing?” Belle asks, pulling the question straight out of my head.

  “Well, I had to figure if the two of you were here together, it meant that the shit he said and did to you when we were kids was long since forgiven. Even more so if the two of you are actually dating, which by the way, I called when we were eight. Though, he was too pigheaded to believe me at the time.” He laughs again. “But the real reason I laughed is because of all the things I expected him to say to me when we came face to face again, that wasn’t it.”

  Pigheaded. Check.

  Asshole. Check.

  Never apologizing for my actions.

  What do you know, I’m three for three. He’s nailed me—at least the old me—spot on.

  “There’s no excuse for the shit I did to you, Sam. There’s no excuse for the shit I did to anyone back then. I came here figuring I would explain to you what was going on at the time, how fucked up I was and that maybe, you’d see the honesty for yourself and believe me. But on the way over here, I realized that my shitty home life, my anger issues, and the crap I was going through, means absolute shit. I was a dick to you and I was an even bigger one for not owning up to that fact years ago. I’m sorry.”

  “You were a dick. You were even worse with her, as I recall.” He shifts his attention away from me and back to Belle. “The thing is, the world is full of dicks, Kayden. And as much as I feared you then, as much as I still may fear you now because of what went down with us, I gotta say, you were good practice.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He can’t possibly mean what I think he means.

  “I’m saying,” he pauses, running his hand down over his face and sighing. “I’m saying I forgive you. I mean, that is what you came here for, isn’t it? You want to make things right? Move on from the past?”

  There’s no way it can be this easy. No way that after the hell I put him through, that he can stand here now and just be over it.

  There has got to be a catch.

  “Is this where you throw me off by saying that, and kick the shit out of me or something?” I ask and again he laughs, but this time, Belle seems to find it funny too because she joins him.

  “No, Kayden. It’s the part where I say that we’re not kids anymore, and that what you did back then, I’m over it. Sadly, you weren’t the worst of it.” Pausing, he lifts up his sleeve, and where I expect to see scars, I’m met with something else entirely. His arms are burned. “So, whatever shit you’re giving yourself over what happened back then, stop. You’re forgiven.”

  There’s something about the way he says I wasn’t the worst, along with his seared skin that does me in. I’m not exactly a saint, but ever since I grew a set, changed my ways, and attempted to do better, I’ve gone out of my way to stop shit like that before it can even start. The memory of Belle and the cigarette burn on her arm as vivid as the day it happened.

  Obviously small in comparison to whatever it is that Samuel had to live through after he moved away.

  Looking away when I sense Belle moving out of the corner of my eye, I watch as she does the same with her own sleeve, pulling it up just past her wrist to where the scar from her burn still remains. Eyes locked on Sam’s, she stands there in quiet solidarity.

  Letting him know he’s not alone.

  “I’m sorry, Belle.” He says and she isn’t the only one whose eyes go wide in surprise.

  What the hell does he have to apologize for?

  “Bet you didn’t see that coming.” He grins before his mouth drops and he’s back to serious again. “Kayden’s not the only one that acted like an ass when we were kids. I said some pretty awful stuff to you back then too. Assumed things because I was too stupid to understand or ask questions. I’m sorry for that, and sorry that we have this in common.”

  Looking at his arm and then back to Belle’s he slides his sleeve back down and accepts Belle’s hug when she steps forward with her arms outstretch
ed.

  “You wanna know what you can do to make shit right, Kayden?” He asks when Belle pulls away and steps back over to where I’m standing, sliding her body into mine. “You can take that girl home and continue doing what you have been. Be the guy she always knew was there and just be happy. Spread enough of that shit around and maybe twenty years from now, it won’t be our kids repeating history and having this conversation. Think you can do that?”

  Looking down at Belle and placing a kiss to the side of her head, I give him what he’s after. Only it’s not only words I know he wants to hear, but the truth too.

  “There’s nothing I wanna do more.”

  “Good. Now, I’ve got a girl on the other side of that door waiting for this.” He motions down to the plastic bag around his arm. “And you know how they say you won’t like the Hulk when he’s angry? Well that green bastard ain’t got nothing on my girl. So, I better get in there.”

  Chuckling under my breath, I step forward when I see his hand come out and meet him halfway, gripping onto it tight and meeting his eyes. Letting him know without a word being spoken just how thankful I am for what he’s given me.

  Turning toward the car, ready to let him head inside, I head over and unlock and open my door, about to slide in when I hear him call out.

  “Yeah?”

  “Next time you wanna pop by, bring a basketball.”

  “Why?” I laugh at his recollection of the past. “You itching to get beat again?”

  As the sound of his laughter filters across the grass, a weight lifts of my shoulders. With that one gesture, I’m finally freed of the burden I’ve been carrying around for almost ten years.

  “Something tells me with the way things turned out, there are no losers here.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I won the game and you, well, you got the real prize. You got the girl!”

  When I see Belle’s face light up from her position in the car, I’m left with only one thought as I nod toward him and tap the car before slipping down in beside her.

  Sammy is right.

  We’re all winners.

  Chapter Eight

  It’s been hours since we left Sam’s place and came home. Belle has gone across the street, picked up Tristan, and we’ve cooked and eaten dinner. She’s put the dishes in the dishwasher and even set the thing to go, and in all of that time, I still can’t get the image of his arms out of my head.

  How did he end up being burned after he moved away? What kind of sadistic fucker did he run into that thought burning someone alive was the way to go?

  Amelia and the cigarette burns, as wrong as they were, had an origin. It wasn’t one any of us knew at the time, though I suspected something was up when we dated and she wore hoodies all the time. None of that even matters though, because at the end of the day, there is someone out there in the next town over from us, who is a hell of a lot worse than Amelia, Dillon or I ever were.

  God.

  It’s like being back in high school all over again. Seeing the mark from the cigarette burning bright red on Belle’s skin, and now, years later, an indent in her flesh. A mark that no matter where we go or what we do in life, we’ll never be able to entirely escape from.

  We’ll always remember.

  And if the way I’m reacting to Samuel’s burns now is any indication, it’s also something I’ll never be able to forgive myself for either.

  You can’t save everyone, Kayden. All you can do is what Sam wanted you to. The rest has to be on everyone else.

  No matter how many times I’ve repeated that since we got in the car and pulled away, I can’t seem to let it sink in. I want more than anything to go back in time and kick my own head in so I never touched him in the first place.

  Never turned into the monster I became.

  “Kay? Did you hear what I said?”

  Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I turn toward the bar where for the last thirty or so minutes, Belle has been helping Tristan with his math homework.

  “No, sorry. What did I miss?”

  “Tristan asked if now that we’re done, we could all watch a movie together before I have to kick him to bed.”

  Is she actually asking my permission? Since when do we do that?

  “Sure, of course. What kind of movie did you have in mind?”

  “Something gory.” Tristan says, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  “So basically you wanna watch something your mom told you is off limits?” I ask and with how quickly he shakes his head but can’t meet my eyes tells me I’ve hit my mark.

  “Tristan, you know I don’t like those kinds of movies.” Belle interjects and going back to one of our first conversations and seeing over the years firsthand how she reacts to anything remotely scary, I laugh, causing both of them to stare me down.

  “If my vote counts, I say we let him pick one.”

  “Kayden.”

  “Belle.” I repeat back with a grin.

  She doesn’t stand a chance. With the smile starting to appear on her brother’s face, I’m pretty sure she’s losing the fight.

  It’s officially two on one.

  “If you don’t wanna watch, you can always read.” I offer, reaching over on the sofa and grabbing her Kindle from the arm, shaking it back and forth.

  Leveling me with a scowl, I just smile serenely and after a few seconds of trying to maintain the look, she caves like she always does and sighs, motioning down the hall to Tristan.

  “Go pick whatever you want. I’ll make the popcorn.” I tell him, sliding myself up off the sofa and making a beeline for the kitchen just as he jumps off the barstool.

  “Hey, Kayden?” he calls back when he hits the door to my old room.

  “Yeah?”

  “You wanna help me pick?”

  Seeing this for the opportunity it is, I don’t even hesitate. This is the first time in what feels like forever that he’s asking me to do something with him instead of just having his sister force his hand. I’d be stupid not to take it.

  “Yeah, buddy. Give me a second with Belle and I’ll be right there.”

  “Gross. You’re gonna kiss her again, aren’t you?”

  “Actually, no. I was going to start the popcorn, but now that you mention it…”

  “Eww. Whatever. Just don’t take too long.”

  Dipping into the room, I do the exact thing Tristan called me on and pull Belle into my arms, warmed immediately by the squeal she lets escape before my lips find hers.

  “He’s knows us too well.” Belle laughs against my lips when we finally come up for air.

  “He does, but it’s not exactly a bad thing. No matter how gross he thinks it is. He’s been a part of me doing a lot worse. Witnessing me make up for that by being overly affectionate could be a good thing.”

  “Or, it could result in him puking all over the carpet.” She jokes and I press my lips to hers again, silencing the laughter until it’s nothing but a rumble in her chest that quickly manages to morph into a moan.

  A moan that even years after she did it for the first time, I never get tired of hearing.

  “I better go before he decides he doesn’t want my help.” I tell her, pressing another delicate kiss to her nose before swatting her on her ass. “You mind starting the popcorn?”

  Shooing me away with a roll of her eyes and a crooked smile, I head off toward the room, the light in her eyes and the laughter that comes when I turn and blow her a kiss before ducking inside another reminder of why she’s home.

  Why I can’t imagine my life without her in it.

  Looking toward the DVD shelves when I step in, expecting to see Tristan going through them, I come up empty. It’s only when I turn toward the bed and take in the book now sitting open in his lap that my heart sinks in my chest.

  “Tristan, look…It’s not what you think.”

  He lifts his eyes from the page, but where I expect to see hurt, he’s showing me the opposite. He’s open.

 
; “You wrote about her.”

  “Yeah, buddy, I did.”

  “No, Kayden. You don’t get it. You wrote about her and you were nice.”

  I’m sure he doesn’t mean to take the knife that now feels like its plunging deep into my chest cavity and twist it as deeply as he is, but it’s happening none the less. Because before I made such a colossal mess of things in our senior year, he actually seemed to like me.

  Being nice then wouldn’t have been the obvious shock it is to him now.

  Careful of each step I make, not wanting to ruin the obvious opening I have, I slowly move toward the bed and stop beside him, not making a move to sit until he pats the blanket.

  “I wasn’t always an asshole, Tris.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah.” He admits and the tightness in my chest seeing him reading my old journal begins to ease. “I guess I just forgot for a while because of all the other stuff that happened.”

  “Tris, what happened back then—”

  “No. You don’t have to say it. Belle tells me enough as it is. I know it wasn’t all your fault. It just wouldn’t have happened at all if you stayed around like she wished you did.”

  “I know.”

  “You made her cry so much, Kayden. So much. I used to count the nights, you know? After I hit fourteen, I stopped. For a long time, I didn’t even realize the person that was making her cry was you because I could remember you from when I was little. You weren’t mean. You used to play with me. I couldn’t believe it was you.”

  I don’t know what to tell him. I could apologize for all of those days I made his sister cry, but I don’t think it would fix anything.

  It’s a lame response for what I did.

  “That changed the night of homecoming. I knew then it was you. You broke her.”

  “Tristan, I know it probably doesn’t mean shit, but I need you to hear me. Who I was back then, the things I did…none of that was Belle. It was all me. I know what a mess I was. A mess I made. I hate myself for not changing things sooner. For walking away from her and never looking back. But she’s giving me this chance to make things right. To love her the way I should have. The way I always have even when I couldn’t admit it to myself. I hope that someday soon, maybe I can earn that same thing from you. I hope I can make it up to you.”