Surviving Slater

by Regan Ure

  I disagreed. Seeing the grief and sadness in his eyes, I could tell he was paying the price every day.

  "I don't get close to people because it hurts. Keeping people at a distance means I don't have to worry when they walk away, because I don't care." He was clear in his way of thinking. "Sin is the only one I let in. He is my family."

  Despite my uncle's actions, I felt very lucky to at least have a mother who loved me.

  "And me?" I whispered, not sure I was ready for the answer.

  His eyes held mine. "With you it's too late. I hurt already."

  "I don't want to hurt you," I said, stepping closer.

  "You showed up with Levi and I hated every minute of watching you together with him."

  "I was feeling vulnerable and I didn't want to go on my own."

  "Is there anything going on between the two of you?"

  I shook my head in response. It wasn't my proudest moment but I hadn't been the only one at fault.

  "What about Cathy?" I reminded him.

  "Like I said, there's nothing going on. You were getting too close and I needed something to push you away."

  I digested his words.

  "Getting hurt is inevitable." He seemed resigned to the fact that there was only one way this was going to end between us.

  "Is it?" I asked, not convinced our path had to lead to that.

  He cared and so did I. Wasn't that how couples started off? But we didn't know how.

  "Haven't you ever dated?" I asked, but he shook his head.

  I hadn't been with a guy long enough to develop feelings that ruled my heart the way Slater now did.

  "Why can't it work?" I asked, not understanding why we couldn't be happy together. Sin and Taylor had started out rocky, but look at them now—they were the happiest couple I knew.

  "I don't know how to date," he said, looking rattled. He raked a hand through his hair.

  "Neither do I." But I didn't want to give up the hope I had for us.

  "Do you want to be with me?" I asked, feeling like I was laying it all down in front of him, not knowing if he would stomp all over me and walk away. But that was the thing about caring for someone, it left you open to them to hurt you at any stage. There had to be trust.

  The voice in my head piped up, reminding me about what I currently had Connor looking into for me. I shoved the thought away.

  "I don't have a choice," he said, looking intense. "You're already here." He placed his hand over his heart. I swallowed the building emotion that clogged my throat.

  "I want this with you," I admitted to him. I had never been in a position where I wanted it more. This was the first time I wanted the happily-ever-after. I loved him but I wasn't ready to say it out loud. Not just yet.

  He reached out and intertwined our fingers, and I took the final step to close the distance between us.

  I reached up on my tiptoes and kissed him as his arms wrapped around me. His tongue ran across the seam of my mouth and I opened my lips. Our tongues caressed each other, slowly savoring the moment.

  It was like a tidal wave sweeping us up in an intensity of emotions and want. By the time I broke the kiss, I was breathing hard and my heart was beating so fast.

  "We take this one day at a time," I said to him, trying to formulate a plan of how to tackle us. "And we see where it takes us."

  "Exclusive," was his statement, and I nodded. "I won't share you."

  His statement warmed my heart because I didn't want anyone but him.

  "So what do we call this?" he asked.

  "I don't know. Dating?" I lifted my shoulders in a shrug.

  "Dating. I like that," he said, and he smiled. The small gesture lifted my heart. And in that moment all the doubts flitted away and I was filled with hope for the two of us.

  Then I remembered my other question. "How did you know where I was?"

  He was silent for a moment. "I had you followed."

  I frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "Jeff organized one of his guys to keep an eye on you."

  "But why?"

  "I was worried about you. I have seen what drug addiction does to people and I didn't want to take any chances with you. I had to put space between us but I needed to know that you were okay and the only way to do that was to have someone else watch over you."

  It was mind-blowing and a little creepy.

  "You have to learn to trust me and I have to learn to trust you."

  He nodded. I yawned, the events of the day catching up with me.

  "You're tired."

  "I need to go back," I said. "If I stay out too late my mom will worry."

  "I'll take you home."

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The drive back to my house was surreal. I kept looking at him while he was concentrating on driving. Although we were now together, I still couldn't shake the feeling that despite his words he was just waiting for one of us to screw this up.

  I should have come clean about digging into his past but I knew the start of our relationship wouldn't survive the bombshell.

  What did it matter, anyway? I hoped with time we would grow close enough for him to tell me about her. Then would Connor's information really mean that much at all? The bottom line was I would know the details of his sister's death, so did it matter who the source had been? In my mind I was trying to rationalize my actions so I didn't feel guilty for deceiving him.

  "What's wrong?" Slater asked. I looked at him but his eyes were still fixed in front of him.

  Had he felt my eyes on him?

  "Nothing," I said. I shrugged dismissively.

  Telling him about me checking into his background wasn't an option. If the guilt became too much I could tell him later, maybe, when our connection was stronger and could withstand the hit.

  But you don't know how long this is going to last, I reminded myself. Just because we cared about each other didn't mean this was going to work. For all I knew this could disintegrate, and I believed understanding his pain would help me cope if it didn't work out.

  He didn't ask for any directions and knew exactly where I lived. It was a little disconcerting.

  When he pulled up in my driveway, all the visitors were gone. It was late and I was pretty sure my mom was probably fast asleep already. He parked the car and got out. I waited until he opened the passenger door and picked me up. He carried me to the front door before he set me down on my feet.

  I was still dressed in his clothes, since my other clothes and shoes were still wet. I was transported back into a time when I was a teenager as we stood there, unsure of what to do.

  "Thank you for the lift home," I said.

  "You're welcome." He reached out and took my hand into his. The act was so strange but I liked the way it made me feel.

  "When will you be leaving to go back?" he asked, brushing his hand against my fingers.

  "Tomorrow," I said. I had missed so much school already and there would be a few late nights needed to catch up.

  "Let me know when you're ready and I'll take you back."

  "Thanks," I replied. I smiled, a true smile despite my insecurities regarding the path that lay ahead of us.

  He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.

  We were like two toddlers learning to walk together, hand in hand.

  That night was the first night in a long time that I didn't have a nightmare about my childhood. I don't know what had changed. Had it been the letter—the admission of guilt—that had made the difference? Or had it been the unloading of the dark secret to Slater that had set me free in some way?

  Whatever it was, I felt like I was walking around with less baggage.

  * * *

  Back in the real world, our fledgling relationship flourished. Despite my friends' misgivings about us, they supported me. Even Matthew.

  "You sound really happy," he said over a phone call a couple of weeks later.

  "I am." But there was always that fear that would never go away. It was the fea
r that something was going to happen to ruin what was happening between Slater and me.

  "You deserve it," he said, holding off on any other lectures about how Slater was going to break my heart.

  Taylor was happy for us as well but I think, despite the fact they were happy to see me happy, everyone was just waiting for it to end badly. Or maybe it was just me who was not convinced we had what it took to make it as a couple. Our track records weren't a good reflection for success.

  "Are you daydreaming again?" His voice brought me out of my thoughts. Slater stood in the doorway, dressed in jeans and nothing else. He was hot. The awareness I felt every time he was near tingled through me. I loved him, and he was mine. Even if it didn't last.

  "Sorry," I mumbled, sitting up in the bed.

  "That's okay. I like watching you when you're deep in thought."

  One thing I had learned in the time I had spent over at his place was that he didn't sleep much. When I would doze off and wake up during the night, he was either on his computer or watching TV. It wasn't healthy but somehow he managed. If I didn't get eight hours' sleep I was cranky for the day.

  I was still naked beneath the sheet. I could still feel his touch from the night before on my skin, the slight sensitivity of my skin that his stubble had brushed against.

  "I'm thinking about you," I said. He gave me that lazy confident smile that always made my stomach somersault.

  "You keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to control myself," he said, his voice deep.

  That wouldn't be such a bad thing.

  My phone started to ring. I got it from the side table.

  "It's Connor," I said to Slater before I answered.

  Slater disappeared out of the room when Connor spoke.

  "Hi, Jordan," he said.

  "What's up?" I asked him. I hadn't heard much from him in the last month. I had dealt with my guilt for snooping into Slater's past by ignoring the fact that I had asked Connor to look into it in the first place.

  After the last six weeks, it was easier to forget because I hadn't had much contact from Connor.

  "I wanted to give you an update," he said, and I frowned. "Looking into what happened to Shannon is more complicated than I expected."

  It was on the edge of my tongue to tell him to forget about it but he had spent weeks on it and I couldn't bring myself to tell him to stop now.

  "There are a lot of things that don't add up," he said, sounding subdued.

  "If it's too much trouble…" I began to say.

  "It isn't," he assured me. "It's just going to take longer than I expected. I'll keep you updated."

  "Sure," I said.

  The longer it took, the more I could talk myself into the fact that I hadn't crossed a line, because technically I didn't know anything that Slater hadn't mentioned already. My asking Connor didn't, on its own, in my mind count as a betrayal. Yeah, I knew it took some warped way of thinking to talk myself into that conclusion, but I had.

  My inner peace was unsettled by the phone call from Connor. I got out of bed and slipped into one of Slater's shirts. He loved it when I walked around his place just dressed in his shirts.

  I padded into the living room to find him busy on his laptop.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, looking at the screen. None of the writing made any sense. It looked like gibberish but Slater understood it.

  He was programming some new software that Sin needed. Apparently he had great logical thinking and programming had come easily to him.

  "Just finishing some stuff up," he said, typing something before he closed his laptop. He set it down on the small table beside him. Standing up, he focused on me.

  "That was Connor on the phone," I said, not knowing why I felt the need to say anything. He already knew it was Connor who had called me.

  "He still playing the 'big brother' role?" he asked, walking to me.

  "Yeah." It was the easiest excuse.

  When he came to stop in front of me, my hands rested on his chest. I loved the feel of him. Actually, I was realizing I loved a lot of things about him. The way he frowned when he was trying to figure out a problem. The way he smiled when he looked at me like he wanted nothing more than to take me to bed. The way his hand threaded with mine, connecting us.

  Every day I fell harder, and every day it got harder to keep the guilt at bay.

  Sometimes Slater had nightmares where he called out his sister's name. He thrashed and groaned. I would try and soothe him but nothing I said or did would ease the pain he experienced while trapped in the dream. Usually afterward he would leave me alone in the bedroom and go to the living room to deal with it. I had tried to talk to him about it, hoping that would help him, but he wasn't ready to share what happened.

  * * *

  Three weeks later, it happened again.

  I was lying in his bed, cuddled up to him, when he began to groan. I sat up and switched on the light, hoping it would wake him, but he continued to groan.

  "Slater," I whispered, hoping to wake him up before it worsened. I shook him gently at first but when he called out his sister's name, I shook him harder.

  "What happened?" he said, sitting up. I sat up beside him.

  "You were having another nightmare about Shannon."

  There was a heavy silence as he sat to the side, putting his back to me. I reached out and touched his shoulder lightly, trying to ease the way his shoulders bore the burden of what he was dealing with.

  "Please don't," he said softly, brushing my hand from his shoulder. I dropped my fingers into my lap, trying to soothe over the hurt I felt at the slight action.

  "It's always the same dream over and over again," he began to say, and I stilled. He had never spoken about them before.

  "I'm trying to find her and when I do, I can't reach her." He let out an emotional breath and I wanted to hug him close but I stopped myself. "And then she disappears and I never see her again."

  I felt the pain in his words. His sister was dead and he would never see her again.

  "No matter how hard I try, I can never save her." I closed my eyes briefly as the pain of his words washed over me. I didn't know Shannon but I wanted to mourn her loss. The effect her death had on Slater was consuming.

  He bowed his head for a brief moment before he looked back over his shoulder at me. It was hard not to reach out and comfort him. There was so much pain in his features but I resisted the urge to pull him close and tell him that no matter what had happened to him things would be okay.

  He looked away and set his eyes on the window beside the bed.

  "You always see those happy types of families with the white picket fence. Happy mom and dad, so in love. Their adorable children happy and loved. In the background is the family cat or dog."

  I swallowed the emotion I was feeling. I knew what it felt like to look at my family and wish I'd had a father to complete it.

  "I never had that. I was an unplanned pregnancy and when I came along my parents struggled to adapt to parenthood. Just because some people can become parents doesn't mean they should. My parents are a shining example of that."

  I put my hand on his back to give him some sort of support. He turned to his side to face me.

  I didn't know the ins and outs of his childhood but it didn't take a genius to see the bad attitude and tough-guy exterior was built up from a young life of hard times and a lack of love and affection.

  Or maybe it was the fact that I was injured by mine that allowed me to see the pain in others. The glitter of emotion in his pale blue eyes was enough for me to feel like I was going to shed tears. Seeing him like this was not easy.

  "I think my parents loved me as much as they were capable of loving a child, and then a year later Shannon was born."

  A lump formed in my throat and my eyes stung.

  "There wasn't much we could do right. The smallest thing would set my father off. We always had bruises. When he lost his job when I was five, it got so much worse. He star
ted to drink and spiraled out of control. My mother didn't earn a lot. I think that's when they started to resent us. Shannon and I only had each other. No one else cared. It was only when I went to school and saw other kids with their parents that I began to understand there was something wrong with ours."

  I swallowed hard, straining to stop myself from feeling the emotion his words pulled from the part of my soul that was damaged like his.

  He rubbed the back of his neck briefly. His body language was clear—he wasn't used to letting people in. Any time I wanted to ask a question I stopped myself for fear it would break the spell and he would close up again. It had taken so long to get him to this point. He stood up and turned to face me.

  "My teacher, Miss Gardener, noticed the bruises. When she asked me about them, I knew what I was supposed to say." His hands tightened into fists. "But I trusted her. I believed her when she said she could help and make it stop."

  For a moment I got a glimpse of the six-year-old boy who struggled with the life-changing decision. "I wanted to protect Shannon. I wasn't much older than her but I felt responsible for her. She was so little. There isn't much about my childhood that was happy but being her older brother was the best thing I'd ever experienced. The way she looked up to me… I was her hero."

  The pain that glittered in his eyes was heartbreaking. He paused for a few moments. It physically hurt somewhere deep inside me to listen to him. I wanted to say something to help but there were no words that could ease this.

  I knew what it felt like to be in an impossible position, unable to get away. And then once it happened there was no taking it back. It was burned into my soul like a permanent scar. Forever a reminder of what had happened to me.

  "Do you know I met Sin when I was only six?"

  I didn't answer him. Guilt burned in my stomach like acid.

  He rubbed his hands over his face and he took a deep breath. The next part was going to be brutal, I could feel it. There was no stopping me when I stood up and walked over to him, the vulnerability pushing me to step forward and hug him. For a few seconds he stood still and then he gave in, engulfing me in his strong arms.