by Anna Brooks
“Okay, sure.”
“Let me know if you have enough pictures that you’d like your own board.”
“Okay.”
She squeezes my knee before she stands. “It’s difficult, but this is the closure we all needed, Rayne.”
“I know it is.”
I walk them both to the door, and as soon as it closes, I head to the bathroom and crank the water on. Stripping my clothes off, I let them land haphazardly and step into the stream before it’s warm. Now that I’m alone, I can really cry. My breath hitches and an almost howl comes from my heart and out of my mouth as I release the agony I’ve been holding onto for two years.
Like a pressure cooker, the lid pops off and the steam releases, except with me, it’s all the guilt and the sadness and the loss. Any of the tears I’ve cried before are nothing compared to this. I’m sick of crying, though. Sick of living like this, but this time it’s different. It’s a damn sob fest of relief.
When I emerge with a wet head and dry eyes twenty minutes later, I quickly dress and grab my purse. I have to go see Vaughn. I need to see him. As I’m walking through the kitchen, I see a bunch of flowers and immediately feel like shit even more for tonight because I was supposed to cook dinner for him. We were supposed to have some time alone, getting to know each other.
After putting the flowers in water, I head out and drive to his place. When I knock on the door, he doesn’t answer, but I hear him shuffling around in there. “Vaughn?” I knock again, and this time a chair screeches.
The lock clicks and the door opens, but before I can say anything to him, his back is to me. His normally strong shoulders are slouched, and the confident steps he usually takes are more like a shuffle.
I take the open door as an invitation and follow him over to the table where he’s working on something. Unsure of what to say, I just stand there for a second and wait, watching his hands fly across the paper. His drawing is disturbing. The shadow of a little boy with blood at his feet and shadowed hands choking him from behind. A complete contrast from the beautiful flower he drew for me.
“You don’t have to say anything, Rayne.”
“Yes, I do. I should have called, so you didn’t come over and walk into that mess.”
His hand freezes on the paper. “You don’t owe me anything.” He turns so his haunted eyes are looking at me, and it rattles me how upset he is right now. “I understood that at any time this could happen. Hurts me, babe. I’m not gonna lie about that. But I knew it could happen.”
“What could happen?”
“He comes back, and I get gone.”
Oh, my God. “He’s not back, Vaughn.”
His brows pull together in disbelief. “You said they found him.”
“You thought they found him, and he was coming back, and that I’d just toss you aside like you don’t fucking matter to me?”
He shrugs. “Yeah.”
“Wow.” I huff in disbelief. “They found his body.”
I think he tries to say something, but his lips don’t move.
“An off-duty police detective was walking along an old abandoned beach and found what he knew to be a human skull. They identified him by dental records, Vaughn.”
“Shit.” He breathes. Running his fingers through his hair, he gets a little charcoal on his forehead.
I move closer and reach over to brush it off and cup his face. “How can you think I’d do that to you?”
“I don’t know any different.” When he stands, I’m forced to back up. “Christ. What was I supposed to think?”
“That I wouldn’t just, just dump you.”
“Answer me this, Rayne. If they did find him alive, what would you have done? If he walked through that door right now, what would you do?”
I stutter to answer because I’ve asked myself this before. It’s the biggest thing I’ve struggled with since meeting Vaughn and the one thing that makes me feel the absolute worst of all. Vaughn means more to me than Bryan did. Vaughn loves me more than Bryan did. He might not have said the words, but I can feel it.
“You can’t even answer because you know you wouldn’t stay with me.”
At his assumption, I point my finger at him. “Yes, I would. Why do you doubt me? Jesus, Vaughn.” I drop my hand in defeat. Not only did I just find out about Bryan but now this? I’m not sure how much more I can deal with right now.
“I don’t doubt you. I’m being realistic.”
“Realistic? That’s what’s realistic to you? Someone who loves you just abandons you?”
His face pales at my words. “Yes.”
“Don’t you know how much you mean to me? I realize it’s been all messed up, and so far, it’s been a damn bumpy ride, but I’m not ready to get off . . . I don’t want to get off, even if the road is full of twists and turns for a little while longer. Why would you think I would?”
He licks his lips and loops his thumbs through the belt loop on his jeans. “Because nobody ever has before.”
“Nobody has what?”
“I’ve never had anybody, Rayne. Not even my own mom. Nobody has ever . . .”
“What, Vaughn? Nobody has ever what?” He’s confusing the hell out of me, and quite frankly, by the wetness in his eyes and the way his voice is shaking, he’s scaring me.
“I’ve never had anybody care about me that much.” He puts his hands into fists and holds them at his sides.
I’m not sure what the backstory is, and I don’t care. All I know is the man in front of me, the man that I absolutely love, is falling apart in a way I never thought he would. I begin to walk to him, but he backs up.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t need pity. I’m just explaining it to you, so you know why I’m so fucked up.”
His words don’t make me stop my progression, and I reach him and grab his face in my hands. “I love you, Vaughn.”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“But I do. I love you so much, and I would have, I should have said it sooner, but I was too afraid.”
He swallows. “What were you afraid of?”
“So much. You scared and excited me at the same time. I wanted to push you away and pull you closer, and laugh with you and cry with you. You made me want to hit you and hold you, and it scared the shit out of me how much I wanted you to love me.” I catch my breath after spewing all of that out. “I was afraid of what it meant to fall in love again . . . but mostly, I was afraid of loving you and losing you.”
He wraps his hands around my wrists and pulls me even closer. “You can’t lose me.”
The cynical and bitter part of me challenges him. “You can’t guarantee that.”
“Yes, I can.”
“How?”
“Because when you’ve found your other half who makes you whole . . . when your soul finally meets its counterpart, absolutely nothing in the world can break it, take it away, or divide it. It’s infinite, and you’re that person for me, Rayne. You’re it. So yes, I can promise you will never lose me because what I feel for you is indestructible.”
I step up on the tips of my toes and kiss his full lips. He releases my wrists, and I wrap my arms around his waist. My head rests on his chest, and I bask in the comfort he provides.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He kisses the top of my head then brings a hand up and runs his fingers through my hair. “I know this has got to be a really difficult thing to deal with, and you don’t need my shit on top of it. It’s just . . . the thought of not having you in my life when I finally had you tore me the hell apart.”
“I won’t even think about what it would feel like not to have you. I can’t let myself. Just being with you makes everything else so much easier. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’m going to really need you right now more than ever.”
“Then I’ll be here.” He takes hold of my hand, and we walk the few feet to his kitchen. He then lifts me by my waist and sets me on the countertop. “I need
some water. Do you want anything?”
“Water’s good.”
I wait for him to grab me a bottle from his fridge. He unscrews the cap and hands it to me. “Thanks.” Immediately after taking a sip, my parched throat feels better.
As he watches me swallow, he studies me for a moment. “How are you feeling?”
I shrug. “I don’t really know how to feel.”
“I don’t care how you think you’re supposed to react to the news. I want to know how it makes you feel.”
No matter what’s happened between us so far, one thing that’s remained consistent has been the fact I can be myself with him. Except for when I was lying to myself, that is. So I tell him. “Relief. That’s what I feel. I’m relieved.”
“It’s okay, you know?”
“Is it? Is it really okay to feel nothing except relief when your ex-boyfriend’s parents tell you they found his remains washed up on a beach somewhere in Washington?” I take another drink then set the bottle down. “I only cried because I was so overwhelmed with relief that I couldn’t even process what was going on around me. I kept thinking about how I could finally breathe without a weight on my chest. And I cried tears of fucking joy, Vaughn. I cried tears of joy that it was finally over.”
“There’s nothing wrong with letting go of the misplaced guilt you’ve been carrying around and giving yourself the permission to feel that relief.”
How does he do it? I honestly think he holds some kind of superpowers because he continually makes things easy for me. He absolutely knows me better than I realize.
“I saw the flowers.”
He looks sheepish when he smiles. “I wasn’t sure what kind you liked.”
“They’re all really beautiful.”
“You’re the first girl I’ve ever bought flowers for.”
He’s not the first to have given them to me, but he’s the only one who actually put thought into it, and that means more to me than anything. “I’m sorry I ruined our date.”
“Guess we’re even now, huh?”
“Guess so.”
He leans against the refrigerator, and the electricity that always sparks between us ignites with just a look. The mood shifts in the room, and his eyes go from my own, down to my mouth, then back up to lock his gaze on mine. For all the things I want from him, I want to feel his skin against mine again, and I want the connection we share to get even stronger. But it’s so not the right time.
No matter what happened in the past or what will happen between Vaughn and me, I loved Bryan, and out of respect for him, I need to leave before I do something I know I’ll regret. “I need to go.”
“You do,” he agrees.
I hop off the counter and walk straight to the door before I have a chance to think about it. I have it open about two inches before he comes up behind me and cages me in. His large palm slams the door closed before his lips brush against my cheek. “I’ll be here when you’re ready, but don’t stay away from me for too long.”
“I won’t.”
His fingers curl against the wood, and my toes mimic the movement inside my shoes. The warmth of his body saturates me and makes it physically impossible for me to leave. I lose the strength in my neck, and my forehead lands beneath his hand on the door.
He gives me the strength I wasn’t even aware I had lost. The power to torment me and soothe the ache with just a touch. He makes me weaker than I care to admit and stronger than I thought I could be.
“I don’t want you to walk out of here without me telling you, but I also don’t want to be a selfish bastard and push my shit on you.”
“You’re the least selfish man I know.” I can’t take not looking at him anymore, so I turn around. “Say it.”
He crushes me to him and buries his face in my hair then pushes it aside, so his lips touch my skin. The uneven breaths coming from his mouth warm up and then cool my neck, causing chills to slide down my back. He places a soft kiss under my jaw, then right next to my ear. “I love you, Rayne. So much that it makes me vulnerable enough for you to exploit me, crush my heart, and destroy any belief I had that I’m worthy of someone’s love.” His fingertips slide up my sides until they reach my shoulders, and then he gently pushes me, so my back is against the door. “But you’re worth the risk. You’re worth every goddamned thing to me.”
Chapter 16
Vaughn
I’m sitting on the end of my bed with my hands steepled and my chin resting on the tips of my fingers. I cannot believe what just went down with Rayne. I can’t believe I turned into a whiny, insecure little boy in front of her. The words just flew out, and I felt like I needed to say them before she walked out that door. She may say that she loves me, but I’m still too skeptical to think that things will go the way I want them to.
I don’t know what I need to feel that security, but words definitely aren’t enough. Not expecting her to say she loved me for sure was a shock, and I’m still processing it. Hell, I thought a few hours ago that I’d completely lost her only to discover she was truly mine.
I can’t continue to sit here; otherwise, I’ll become more of a pussy than I already feel like right now. The one thing that always gave me peace is calling to me, so I grab my keys and head for my truck. I park in the fire lane in front of my shop, and when I get inside, I shut off the alarm but leave the lights off. Once I reach my room, I flick that light on and begin prepping my station.
I clean off my arm and pull out the transfer paper that’s been hidden from view for my own sanity. A neighbor I had while growing up drew the four symbols special for me. She was a kind old lady who would leave food outside my window sometimes. She left a piece of paper along with a bag of cookies once, and I cherished it. I held the crumpled paper in my hand while I slept and traced the lines when locked in my room for days at a time. I had no idea what they meant, but I imagined it was her telling me to be strong. A reminder that someone in the world knew I was alive.
My stepdad caught me one night and burned the paper right in front of me. He took his cigarette out of his mouth and touched the hot ember to the corner. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help crying. He told me to shut up and quit being a whiny brat, then gave me something to cry about. It wasn’t the first time he’d hit me, but it was the first time I realized how much I despised him. I had to redo the symbols from memory. I’d spend nights trying to replicate them and get the angles perfect, but nothing I did ever matched the original. It was also another first for me: I realized that drawing calmed me and took me away from the bad things in my life. And I was really good at it.
I press the pedal, and the buzz of my machine shoots an immediate calm through me. It’s a little more difficult to tattoo myself, but since I’m right-handed and I’m doing my left arm, it’s not bad at all. The desire to do this has been heavy on my mind for quite some time now. My way of taking back control, I guess. Giving myself back something he took.
More times than I can count, I’ve had to try to cover scars for people. Usually, I end up incorporating it into the design because the tissue is too sensitive to hold the ink and have any lasting effects. But they want it covered up; they want the ugly reminder turned into something beautiful. I’ve done it for others, and now, I’m finally doing it for myself.
While some scars left behind are physical, the worst ones can’t be seen. They hurt just as much, if not more. I’d have taken the beatings over the verbal lashings any day.
But right now, I want to feel the pain to remind myself that I am, in fact, a grown ass man who can move the fuck on. A tough one who doesn’t crumble because of a woman, not anymore. That was what I did when I was younger, and I eventually hardened myself not to care. But with Rayne, hell . . . she changes everything. She reminds me of what I’ve been fighting so hard to forget and how one woman can alter so much.
I wonder what she’s doing. Wonder if she’s in bed dreaming of me or of him. The thought makes me press a little too hard on my skin. “Fuck.” I take a
break for a second and wipe off the excess before I continue.
When I finish an hour later, I have a high that I only get from ink. I bandage myself up, close shop, then head back home. Before I get into bed, I text Rayne.
Me: Night
I go take a piss and brush my teeth, unbandage my arm, and gently clean it. By the time I get back, she’s sent me a reply.
Rayne: Night. <3
Rayne: The flowers smell amazing, btw. I have them in my bedroom.
Good. Hopefully she’ll go to sleep with the thought of the man who gave them to her.
Me: Sleep deep, baby
Rayne: xo
I could reply again, but I’ve already handed her my balls tonight; no need to add a silver platter into the mix. I crawl under my covers and finally rest my head. I toss and turn all night, dreaming of Rayne in a beautiful field of flowers. She stands there looking so peaceful and beautiful when, suddenly, she clutches her chest. Blood trails down, changing the white daisies to blood red roses.
* * *
I wake up at four in the morning from that nightmare and know I won’t be able to sleep anymore, so I get up and go for a run. When I get back, I exhaust my body, hoping it will turn my mind off by doing hundreds of push-ups.
While it’s normally too early for me to go into the shop, I head there anyway. I have nothing else to do, and if I sit here, I’ll drive myself crazy. I end up cleaning and decided to hang a few more photos and magazine articles I still had packed away.
I might not be proud of much, but my talent is something nobody could ever take away from me. It’s the only consistent thing in my life.
When a quarter to eleven rolls around, I flip on the sound system and sit at the front desk, waiting for my appointment to arrive. I kick back in the chair and mess around on my phone. I hear the door crack open a split second before the beep and look up to see Rayne walking in.
“Hey, darlin’.” I get up, but she rushes around the desk and launches herself at me before I get a chance to balance my weight. The chair catches my ass when I fall back. “Whoa. What’s wrong?”
