Why am I telling him this?
“I saw you were about to leave so, I decided I had to get a better look at you. You probably don’t even know it, but I touched your shoulder. I might have let it linger a bit longer than necessary, but I couldn’t help myself.”
A sly look slides onto his perfect face and he shines his megawatt smile at me. “I do remember that. I couldn’t see your face, but I think, I kind of fell for you then. You were so beautiful.”
I can see him get lost in his thoughts for a moment, but his eyes quickly focus on me again, and he grips the counter harder.
“Then that guy from the band called you up to sing. You have no idea how bad I wanted to talk to you after, Red, but everyone was crowding you. I didn’t want to just be a face in the sea, so I took my loss and left.” He pulls me close. “Good thing fate intervened.”
“So, what happens now?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He thinks for a few seconds. “Well, we obviously can’t make a huge spectacle of ourselves in front of anyone who really knows about me being on your dad’s case, but I think we should be fine.”
His tense body makes me think maybe he is a little more concerned than he’s letting on, but I let it go. He knows what he can and can’t do, and I’m not one to make any sort of judgment calls on our situation.
“Okay, good,” I agree while I cover my mouth to yawn.
“Are you tired?” Duane asks. He looks a little tired himself.
“A little,” I admit. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Me either. Maybe I’ll head to the hotel and come back.”
I involuntarily frown and open my mouth to speak. “Why don’t we take a nap here? I have a big bed and that way you don’t have to leave.”
What I really want to say is, ‘Please don’t go. You take away the shadows in my mind,’ but I keep that little tidbit to myself.
His face lights up like he’s just opened an amazing present on Christmas day. One that’s something he’s been waiting for forever. “I think I like that plan better.”
I take his hand firmly in mine and lead him to my room upstairs.
I had moved in right after Dad died. I couldn’t stay in my house, obviously, and Jason had a huge empty one just waiting to be lived in—I guess it made sense. Come to think of it, I was fine staying at a hotel. I definitely didn’t want to go back home, but also I didn’t want to burden Jase. I had issues a mile high, I couldn’t ask him to take on my problems. He wouldn’t have that excuse, though. He stole my things from the hotel room I was staying in, and forced me to move. So very…Jason of him.
There are four bedrooms on the top floor, all of which were used when we were teenagers. Our closest friends practically made this place a private resort—lots of parties, lots of fun. Jason sleeps in the master bedroom on the West end of the house, so the South side is known as Ann’s domain.
I turn to look at Duane as we make the trek to my room. He seems to be soaking in all of his surroundings. I don’t blame him. The elaborate hallway is at least twelve feet wide. We just passed the massive bathroom that has both a shower and a Jacuzzi, along with his-and-hers sinks. Topping it off, we arrive at my bedroom and there’s a vase full of flowers sitting on the marble table by my doorway—as always.
“This is me,” I say, pointing to my door.
Duane moves to my corkboard covered with pictures of Jason, our friends and I. He smiles at them, and points to the only picture I have of Brent.
“This is what he looked like before?” Duane asks.
I move to the board and remove the pin, taking the photo in my hands. Gently, I rub Brent’s smiling face. “Yeah, that’s him.”
Duane takes it from me and studies the picture. “You wouldn’t know he had anything wrong with him from the smile he has.”
I look again at the photo. He has his arm wrapped around my shoulder and Jason has his around Brent’s. I remember it was the last day of school and we were ecstatic. My purple shirt was wet from running through the sprinklers at school and the boys’ hair was soaked—dripping wet and we were laughing our faces off. Our teacher, Mrs. Gables, took the picture. She was an angel in disguise, and always looked out for Brent when everyone else knew his parents wouldn’t.
“I know. This is a perfect example of who he really was.” I point down at the image. His bright, kindhearted personality always shined through. “But, from what I figure, he wasn’t like this at home.” I break, getting flustered again. “Really though, it’s not like I would know, we were never allowed inside.”
Duane pins the picture back up carefully and turns to me. “You were never allowed to go into his home?”
I step back and sit on the bed. “Nope. He told us his parents didn’t like kids, so we always played at my house or here at Jason’s.”
Duane combs his hand through his hair and sits next to me. “It really pisses me off that people have children and don’t love them. It’s such a waste.”
“I know. Imagine where Brent would be if he didn’t have to live that life. It makes me depressed.”
Duane places his hand on mine and brings it to his mouth for a small kiss. “Let’s help him.”
“What do you mean?” I smile and look at him, a little confused.
“Well, for one, if his dad did kill your dad, like he says, that’ll free him.” His face looks somber, knowing if Alan did kill my dad, it will mean one of my closest friend’s dad is a murderer. “And two, if we can’t find any evidence, let’s help him find a way to leave.” He shakes his head, the melancholy radiating from his body. “This is no life for anyone. I want to help.”
Have I mentioned how amazing this man’s heart is? Because wow. Just wow. He would make Kyle proud. He makes me proud. Proud to know him, and proud to be his….girlfriend? Girlfriend in the works?
Whatever, you know what I mean.
“You are a remarkable person, Duane. You know that?”
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t know about that. Any person can see he’s unhappy, and I’d like to think the next person to come along would want to help him, too.”
Geeze, he’s so much like me. I want to see the good in everything, in everyone. The downside? Most times I get my heart broken. I sometimes think it’s a bad quality to have because most of the time I end up disappointed.
“You have such a big heart, Duane, but I’m scared.”
He pulls me into his embrace and asks, “Why?”
I shrug and lay my head on his chest. “What if he doesn’t want to be helped?”
Duane combs his hands through my hair, thinking about my question.
“How about we deal with that when the time comes?” He asks. “We’ll do what we can and if he wants to live his life that way, it’s his choice. We can walk away knowing we did everything we possibly could for him.”
A lone tear escapes my eye and falls on Duane’s white shirt. I sniffle a bit and wipe my eye.
“Why are you crying, Red?”
I shake my head, not wanting to talk about Kyle. “It’s nothing.”
Duane lays us down, and brings me to his chest. Putting his finger under my chin, he guides my face up to look at his. “Don’t do that, baby. Talk to me.”
Baby? I love the way that sounds.
I bring my head down and let out a sob. I don’t deserve him. I haven’t told a soul outside of a few friends here in Arizona about Kyle and what happened that night. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell Mia and Liv—they have no idea. It’s too hard to even think about, let alone talk about. It would open up a whole set of floodgates I don’t know if I can close. Of course, my parents knew about Kyle, even though I didn’t spend much time at home with them. They knew I was with him for two years and very much in love, but they both said it wasn’t real because we were so young. I never believed that—even now I know it was real; I never questioned it one bit.
With all of these intense feelings flowing through my heart and my body,
I feel the need to tell Duane. The words are busting at the seams. I want him to know me. All of me. Every inch of my heart. Every damn broken piece—even the ones I’m ashamed of.
Telling him would be better than leaving him in the dark. I don’t need the first relationship I’ve had since Kyle to be a lie. He has to know what he’s getting into. He deserves the right to know how fucked up my mind can get if I let it take over. He has to know how to pull me out if I lose myself in the sadness.
I sigh and close my eyes. I don’t know if I can look at him as I let the words fall out of my mouth.
“I was in love.” I stop to compose myself.
“In high school,” Duane finishes for me.
I nod.
“Yeah, his name was Kyle.” I laugh.
“You two would have been great friends,” I continue. “You’re both sweet and generous, always caring for others before yourself. He was the best thing in my life besides Jase. He understood everything about me. He knew I was shy, but could be who I really was on stage. He never missed a show or performance. He’d sit in the middle of the audience where he knew I’d see him, standing and clapping louder than anyone in the place.”
His smile makes its way into my mind, and I let it take over, helping to calm my nerves.
“I thought we’d go to college together, get married, and have a family. We just knew, you know?” I look up at Duane, and his eyes are glassy, almost like he can sense what’s coming.
He smiles and kisses my head.
“Both of us only wanted each other. No one else existed in our world.” I turn away from Duane again, clearing my throat.
“How long were you together?” He asks.
“Almost two years, but something happened our graduation night.” I stifle a sob, trying to hide my utter brokenness.
Duane tightens his hold on me and rubs my back to soothe me, letting me get it all out. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. This has to be hard for you.”
I shake my head. “No, I need to tell you.”
I take a few minutes to regain my emotions and listen to Duane’s steady heartbeat. Strong and constant.
“Our graduation was as you’d expect, probably like any other one you’ve been to. Family and friends everywhere, celebrating, and you can imagine how excited we were to get to the party after. Kyle and I had both received scholarships to Arizona State and were planning on getting an apartment in the summer. We had jobs lined up, things were going exactly according to our plan.”
I’m taken back to that horrible night while I start to relive it with Duane. Verbalizing it for the first time in years made it seem like I’d made no progress at all in recovering. Every pain was there, every scream, every hysterical moment…
It’s now or never.
After the graduation ceremony ends, Kyle pulls me away from everyone so we can make our escape to Jason house to get ready for the night.
What a day.
“Can you believe we just graduated, sweetheart?” He yells. “I can’t believe we are done with high school!” He mocks a fist pump in my direction.
Kyle fist pumped before it was cool, it was no big deal. Not that he did it often, but when he did, it was just to make me laugh. It worked—every time.
I roll my eyes and giggle at my crazy boyfriend.
With the windows down, my hair whips in every direction. I spend most of the car ride trying to wrestle my hair out of my face. No matter how many times I ask Kyle to roll up the windows, he just ignores me with a smirk on his face.
“We need to let life in,” he says while passing his hand through the air outside the window. “Experience the wind in our faces, and have as much fun as possible.”
It’s been days since I’ve felt cool. My body temperature has been wacky, so tonight’s breeze is very much welcomed. I sigh in happy defeat and just let him be. His old soul usually wins out in our disagreements. I can’t ever tell him no.
Jason’s parents missed our graduation, filming some ‘important project’ in Japan, so we—once again—have the house to ourselves.
Pulling into the long driveway, it seems Jason hired someone to decorate the outside. Streamers in our school colors decorate the trees and lampposts, twinkling lights hang from the branches and balloons hang from every surface the eye can see.
It looks like Disneyland. It looks—beautiful.
“This place looks badass,” Kyle offers as he pulls into the garage.
Kyle exits the car, and walks around to my side.
“I know. He went all out,” I respond as I take Kyle’s hand to lug myself out of his car.
Kyle levels his eyes. “Did you expect anything less?”
“No, remember his birthday party last year?” I ask, swaying in place, mocking Kyle and his drunkenness. He couldn’t stand up to save his life. Him and alcohol don’t mix. “That was out-of-hand.”
He squeezes me. “I know, I know. I think I still have a headache from that party.”
When we walk in the door, Jason is sitting on the couch, nursing a beer.
‘Starting the party early.’ That’s what he’ll tell everyone, but I know the real reason he’s already drinking. His parents suck the life out of him. He’s a good actor, and knows how to put on a show. He refuses to let anyone know how unhappy he is—except us. The real him and the person he lets everyone see are two very different people.
“Sup, guys?” He asks, taking a long pull from his beer.
Kyle lifts a hand in acknowledgement, and I move to him, offering a hug.
“Not much. We just escaped from everyone at the school.” I look around the living room. “The place looks great, Jase.”
Kyle chirps in. “Yeah, man. You did a good job.”
Jason says nothing, but gives me a slight smile. I hate to see him sad, I wish there was something I could do.
Kyle grabs my hand and leads me to the couch. We sit down next to Jase, and Kyle brings my feet up to his lap. He removes my heels and begins to rub.
My mind goes blank and I let my head fall back against the couch, letting out an unintentional low growl of pleasure.
Jason lets out an annoyed, loud sigh and I take a peek at him.
Eyeing us with slight horror, he leans forward and fakes throwing up. “Can’t you guys do that upstairs in your room? You two are just gross.”
Kyle grabs the back of my head and dramatically brings our lips together, delivering an overly sloppy kiss just to piss Jason off.
Jason huffs annoyance, finishing up the last bit of beer. “You guys want something to drink?”
He’s already up from the couch, ready to get away from the public display of affection.
Jason hasn’t had a girlfriend in quite a while. I voicelessly examine the roster of single friends that would be worthy of him, coming up seriously short.
Kyle shakes his head and I point to the bottles of water muttering, “Thanks.” My stomach has been churning since we got here and I’ve been feeling off for a few days. Right now, the thought of drinking alcohol makes me lightheaded.
“I’m not really feeling up for drinking the hard stuff yet.” I try to play off the sudden rush of fluids I can feel bouncing around in my stomach, but my face breaks out in a sweat. “I don’t feel very good, I’m going to the bathroom.” My hands start to shake and I instantly know something is wrong.
Kyle sets my legs down gently, looking at me with apprehension. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
I wave him off and give him a weak smile. He’d worry and make himself sick if he knew I wasn’t feeling well. He always says he can feel what I feel. “I’m alright,” I muster.
Kyle catches my hand as I try to get up off the couch. “I know you’re lying. What’s wrong?”
The concern in his voice stops me in my tracks.
I pull him up with me. “Come with me. You’ll see, everything will be okay.”
He looks unconvinced, but nods his head and follows me upstairs.
“W
ait out here,” I urge him when we get to the bathroom door.
His eyes grow weary, not liking the idea of me going in alone, and I know it’s taking some self-control on his part to not force himself inside with me.
“Fine,” he surrenders, “but let me know if you need anything, I’ll be right outside the door.”
I touch his cheek, turn for the door and step inside. Once I’m alone, I walk to the sink to splash my face with cool water. It doesn’t help; my stomach is still screaming at me. I make my way toward the end of the bathroom to sit on the edge of the tub and give myself a pep talk.
I must have eaten something bad. It has to be food-related. That, and I’m anxious. The night’s events are finally taking their toll on me.
Another pang of sickness rolls through me and I close my eyes, trying to breathe the pain away.
This doesn’t feel normal, not even food poisoning normal. I clench my aching stomach and pray for relief. Crawling over the variety of bath salts on the corners of the tub, I set my body down as gracefully as possible.
Just take a chill pill, Ann.
Rest for a second.
“Sweetheart, wake up.” Kyle gently shakes my shoulder.
I crack my eyes open and remember I’m lying in the tub, in the bathroom, soaked in cold sweat. Sexy.
I’m feeling better, my stomach doesn’t hurt anymore and the thought of food doesn’t make me want to vomit. I take a deep breath and smile. As fast as it came, the nausea left.
“Doing okay, now?” Kyle asks, concerned.
“I think so,” I answer honestly.
I attempt to get up and my stomach immediately tightens again. Squealing in pain, I yelp like a wounded animal.
“Ann, what’s wrong? Let me help you,” Kyle demands.
I let him guide me back down to the tub.
I haven’t told Kyle I’ve been feeling less than awesome because, truthfully, I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was just stress from graduating, or at least I kept telling myself that’s what was wrong.
Wait.
My period has been absent for the last few weeks, but then again that wasn’t too odd for me because of the birth control I was on.
Unable to Resist Page 15
