Shattered Love

by Stacey Marie Brown

  I went back in, staying on high alert while wandering through the living room, a bit of doubt started to seep in. What if he didn’t come?

  I stepped onto the front porch, the blockade of people who were here when we first arrived had moved back inside. Now it was empty.

  My chest sank in disappointment as I walked to the porch rail, where I sucked in a gulp of night air. Of all the parties he’d probably go to it would be Doug’s, but, of course, he wasn’t at this one. I sighed, my breath evaporating into the sky. Drops of water from the earlier rain pattered from the trees and roof onto the ground in a soft repetitive beat.

  “Too crowded in there for you?” A low, deep voice came from the shadows behind me.

  “Shit.” I swung around, the familiar voice rattling me.

  At the far end of the porch Hunter hunkered in a low porch chair. The light pointed outward, drowning him in shadows. He wore what he had on at school: dark jeans, biker boots, and a black T-shirt under his jacket.

  I gulped and exhaled, my hand touching my chest. “You’re good at blending into the background, huh? Letting yourself disappear.”

  “I am.” His mouth wavered in a bemused smile. “It’s easier. You know, the coward’s way out.”

  I pinched my lips together. “You do prefer that.”

  “Uh-oh. I sense another lecture coming.” He stretched out farther in his chair.

  “What would I have to lecture you about?” Yes, I was being coy, playing games, trying to get him to talk first.

  As usual he stayed quiet. I strolled over to him. For weeks I held onto a lot of anger. Now as he sat in front of me, I felt nothing but a serenity, which I hadn’t experienced since the day we stopped talking.

  “You hiding out here?” I settled on the railing, letting my legs dangle.

  “Yeah.” He shifted in the chair, his gaze dropped from me. “Too many people wanting to small talk or tell me again how sorry they are. Needed to get some air.” This was something I could understand and relate to. A few beats passed before he spoke again. “What brought you to a Dougie Roe party?”

  “Stevie.”

  “Ah.” He nodded.

  “I guess she knows your friend Doug?” I crossed my ankles, sitting farther back on the rail.

  “They went to school together briefly. She was a freshman before he dropped out.” He took a swig of his beer. “Wouldn’t think this would be your scene.”

  “Because you know my scene?” I challenged. He lifted his eyebrow. “Don’t make assumptions. You know nothing about me.”

  “Do you?”

  I inhaled deeply at his words. I had been asking myself the same question lately, and he called me out on it in thirty seconds. “Screw you, Hunter.” I jumped off the rail. “I don’t know why I try.” I spun and rushed to the back door.

  “Jayme, wait.” Hunter leaned out of his chair, his fingers wrapping around mine. He tugged at my hand, turning me to face him. He looked up. “Look, I’m—”

  The screen door whined as it opened. Hunter stopped talking but didn’t let go of my hand.

  “Hunter. There you are.” A woman’s raspy, deep voice poured over us like bourbon. The door banged behind her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sexy.” Hunter dropped my hand the same time I glanced over my shoulder at the intruder.

  Enough light shined through to show the woman had to be in her mid-twenties. Tall, with dark blonde hair, and skin which looked like it was constantly exposed to the sun. Heavy black eyeliner popped her blue eyes. She wore cut-off jean shorts, cowboy boots, and a Led Zeppelin T-shirt. In December. She was the cliché of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll.

  As she sauntered up, her brash confidence had me stepping back, hitting the support beam. Her eyes moved up and down me, deciphering my threat level.

  “You’re adorable.” She winked, tilting her head at Hunter. “Stay away from this one, sweetie. Unbelievable in bed, but all trouble.”

  He slept with her? When I tried to swallow, it felt like a foot was pressed against my throat.

  “Sunny.” Hunter sighed, rising. “Did you need something?”

  “Besides you?” She smiled. “I haven’t seen you around in a while. Missed you.”

  “Been kind of busy.”

  Busy? Is that what he called it? Car accident, coma, finding out his brother was dead, aneurysm, retraining his legs to walk again, kissing his twin’s girlfriend, jail. Yeah. Busy. I couldn’t help but scoff, and his eyes darted to me.

  Her gaze followed. A crease edged her mouth before she returned to Hunter, clearing her throat to get his full attention back on her. “I heard about your brother. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks,” Hunter said automatically, his eyes went to mine again as if to say, See?

  Sunny noticed our gaze. “Well.” She grabbed his chin, turning him to her. “If you need anything. Comfort. From someone who does more than missionary. Come find me.”

  “Excuse me?” My mouth opened before I even realized it, bristling with anger. Here was another person who took one look at me and thought they had me pegged. I was tired of it. And I realized I didn’t like her touching him.

  I stepped into her face. “Listen, sweetie. You don’t know anything about me. Don’t look at me and assume I’m adorable.” She was a few inches taller, but my anger didn’t seem to notice. “Because I’m not. And if you don’t back off right now and stop whoring yourself to a man who recently had his world ripped into shreds, so you can get laid…”

  I took another step and she stumbled backward, her eyes wide with shock. I heard Hunter say my name, but I ignored him. “I’m gonna show you how sweet I can be.”

  Sunny blinked, stunned. She shifted up taller, as though preparing for retaliation. Hunter must have also seen it.

  “Sunny. Don’t,” he warned. He reached for my arms and tried to pull me back. I didn’t give an inch. “Jayme, come on. We’re going for a walk.”

  Finally, he tugged me away, leading me off the porch. Sunny and I stared at each other before she smirked. “She really is adorable.”

  “And you’re revolting!” Rage tensed my limbs, and I tried to turn back, but Hunter had a firm grip on me.

  “Come on.” He kept walking till the house was no longer in sight.

  “Where are we going?” I grumbled, shaking off his hold.

  “To cool off.” He glanced over at me and chuckled. “Wow, I thought your little scuffle with Adam and Savannah was a fluke, but there’s a bit of scrapper in you.”

  A smile grew on my mouth. “Yeah, I wanted to punch her.” A buzz ignited through me, making me feel lighter.

  Alive.

  Hunter and I kept moving, a comfortable silence falling between us. Colton hated silence, and he constantly filled it with talk, music, TV, or sleep. The people he hung out with were the same, as if they were left alone with their thoughts too long they’d melt.

  Hunter was comfortable with being quiet. I had to admit it was nice. Relaxing. Well, as comfortable as I could be with the guy I almost had sex with and hadn’t talked to since. I still didn’t know if I was relieved the security guard stopped us…or disappointed.

  Relieved. Definitely relieved, I told myself.

  His limp made him slow enough for me to match his steps, clouds of air billowing out our mouths from the brittle night. The rain from earlier still pooled the streets and sidewalks.

  “How have you been?” I finally asked.

  He glanced over at me and his brow furrowed. Without a word I understood. We were asked constantly how we were, but nobody actually wanted to know. They wanted to hear “Good. Thank you.” Not the truth.

  “It’s me.” I wanted honesty.

  He stared far down the road. “Some moments are okay, like I might make it to the next one. Other times… I wish a car would come along and finish the job. End the pain and remorse.”

  “Yeah.” I shoved my hands deep in my pockets. “You know what’s strange?”

  “What?” />
  “I’m scared I won’t stop feeling this way. And even more scared I will.” I looked up at the night sky, a few stars poked through the clouds. “I’m terrified if I really let myself think about what happened, I won’t come back. The pain will be too much and it will break me.”

  I moved my focus to the streetlights glinting off the wet cement. “But then I experience horrendous guilt for wanting to move on, like I’m over his death so easily. So…where do I live? In a perpetual state of numbness? A zombie in life? Doing what I always did? Let myself forget the sound of his voice, his laugh?” I hadn’t told anyone these thoughts, not even the therapist.

  Hunter stayed quiet, our boots clipping over the road.

  “Will his death be what defines me?”

  “It will shape you, not define you,” he said quietly.

  A dash of hope lifted me. He amazed me. Here was this guy holding so much agony and grief inside, but he could still make things better.

  “Tell me yours, Hunter. I want to know. What’s your fear?”

  A strange scoffing laugh came from him. His gaze went to me then quickly darted away. “Everything,” he finally said. Then he turned his head to look behind us. “You want to turn back?”

  “No,” I automatically responded, my hair tumbling around my shoulders. “Not yet.”

  “You hungry?” He pulled one hand from his pocket, motioning for me around the corner onto Main Street.

  “Possibly.” I shrugged. “I better let Stevie know.” I tugged out my phone and texted her: I’m with Hunter. Not like that. Just walking. Maybe second dinner. How is Mulan?

  It was only a minute before I got a text back.

  Moved on from Mulan (Too clingy! Ugh.) Found me Pocahontas. Hot and flirty. Just the way I like ‘em. You call it dinner; some people call it eating out. A blush heated my cheeks, and I quickly shoved my phone away.

  “What?” Hunter asked.

  “Nothing. Stevie being Stevie.”

  “That leaves a lot of room for interpretation.”

  Tension still hung between us. Like pros we skirted the topic of our make-out session. We walked down the sidewalk full of shops and cafes, then my eyes landed on the front of a shop, the glowing neon sign lighting up my face. The girl I kept contained inside flapped with eagerness. She filled my body, urging me forward, telling me exactly what she wanted.

  It was time to let her out. Let her fly.

  Chapter Twenty

  The grin over my face grew, hurting my cheeks.

  “Are you sure?” He lifted an eyebrow. “It’s permanent.”

  “Yeah? So?” I bounced on my toes. “You have one.”

  “Several, actually.” He rubbed at his chin. “But I’m less likely to regret mine.”

  “What?” I burst out in a laugh. “What kind of sexist logic is that?”

  “It’s not sexist. It’s about the person you are.”

  “And what kind of person am I?” I put my hands on my hips.

  “Wow, if that’s not a loaded question.” He snorted. “Is there any way I can answer without finding myself in trouble?”

  I grinned. “Probably not.”

  He looked down, his upper lip hitched on the side. Our eyes latched on to each other. Fire scalded my airways, making it difficult to breathe. It was as though a break in the atmosphere waited for us to collide. My gaze drifted to his mouth. The bad-boy grin fell from his face, and turned serious, sparking the intensity between us. Neither of us moved, but the space between us tapered. He lifted his hand, slowly running his fingers over my ear, tucking my hair behind it. He let his hand slide, slowly trailing down the side of my neck. We watched each other. His fingers moved to my jawline, sliding back, his hand cupping my cheek.

  “Who’s next?” A man stepped from behind the curtain, his voice gruff.

  We both jumped, jerking away from each other. I swiveled around to see a six-foot, barrel-chested man in front of us, dressed in shorts and a white T-shirt. Did no one get the memo it’s winter?

  “Hey, man, you’re back.” He nodded at Hunter. The man was bald and tattoos covered his arms, legs, neck, and half his scalp.

  “Hey, Benji.” Hunter tilted his head back in acknowledgment. “This time it’s for her.”

  “Really?” The man’s brown eyes ran up and down me with an assessing stare.

  “Yeah, why?” My shoulders tightened defensively. “Let me guess? You don’t think I’m the tattoo type?”

  “Honestly, no. But I’ve seen your type here before. Tipsy and feeling rebellious.” He shrugged. “Usually end up with a pretty butterfly or heart. But if you’ve got cash, then I don’t care if you get Donald Duck inked on your forehead.”

  “Oh please, tell me that’s your next one.” I turned to Hunter.

  He gave a throaty chuckle, something I rarely heard.

  “You look too sweet to be with this guy.” Benji smirked, nodding to Hunter.

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?” I threw up my arms. “I’m not sweet.”

  “She’s really not.” Hunter shook his head.

  I elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Uffft.” He rubbed at his side. “See?”

  Benji glanced between us, his forehead frowning like he was trying to figure something out.

  “I knew no matter what I said, I’d get hit.” Hunter nudged me. “Go.”

  I followed Benji into the back room. Two black leather chairs sat next to each other with a padded table and a recliner. The place had red brick walls along with cartoon-style art work with images of a grotesque Alice in Wonderland, death, Beetlejuice, and dogs from the underworld. They were cool, and kind of pretty, in a twisted way.

  I handed him the design. “Not a butterfly or a heart.”

  His mouth pinched, amusement hinting around his eyes. “Good choice.”

  “I know,” I said. “And I won’t regret it. Life is too short, and I won’t waste mine on not being myself anymore.”

  Benji considered us, his gaze jumping from me to Hunter. He nodded, as if something suddenly made sense.

  He stenciled the design on my wrist. There were many cool places it could go, but I wanted to see it every day, be reminded of what I had gone through and where I was heading.

  “You ready?” Benji was poised with the ink needle, humming with a high-pitched dentist drill sound.

  I nodded. “Definitely.”

  “I love it!” I looked down, my eyes wide. Only an hour later my forearm had an everlasting mark etched on it.

  “Let me see?” Hunter tenderly cupped my arm, looking at it. “It fits you.”

  It did. The solid black raven was inked in mid-flight. Intricate feathers shed off it, growing more and more detailed the farther they went up my arm and away from the bird. It symbolized letting go, casting off the past, the old me. Letting the real Jaymerson fly free.

  Benji gave me instructions on taking care of it, wrapped it with cellophane, took my money, and sent me on my way.

  “Good to see ya, man,” Benji said to Hunter. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll finish the one on your shoulder.”

  “Thanks.” Hunter ushered me out the door into the chilly night air. His hand pressed against my lower back.

  “What one on your shoulder?”

  Hunter’s hand dropped from me, stuffing them into his jacket pockets. We walked down the street, heading back toward the house.

  “I eventually want to finish filling one in,” he said ambiguously.

  “Why are you being evasive?”

  “I’m not.” He kept his attention on the street, the cars driving by.

  “Then tell me.”

  “I got something…” I watched his profile, his head remaining forward. “To represent Colton.”

  The name was like ice on the mood and conversation. The enormous elephant in the room came stomping back in, breaking all the good china.

  I slipped my frozen hands into my pockets. We both continued down the street in silence. It grew more
and more awkward. We neared the house where people sat on the deck. Spurts of laughter and murmured voices reached us.

  I could sense the opportunity slipping by. If we didn’t talk now, we never would. “Okay, I can’t take this.” I suddenly stopped, almost tripping him. “Are we going to talk about it?”

  He pressed his mouth together, looking at his feet.

  In one gesture, my heart started to pound. I didn’t even know what I wanted him to say. I certainly wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I already sensed the goodbye on his lips. The rejection. Spikes of trepidation and sorrow stabbed at my heart. “Don’t worry about it.” My throat constricted. “It was a mistake. We can both forget it happened.”

  “Jaymerson…we—”

  “Seriously, Hunter.” I cut off any emotion from my voice. “It’s understandable. My therapist calls it transference or something like it. We’ve gone through a lot together. Emotions were high, and we got caught in the moment. It meant nothing.”

  His eyes darted to mine, his nostrils flared, but he didn’t respond. His muteness hurt more than anything. He was silently agreeing, letting us—this—go without a fight.

  “It certainly didn’t mean anything to me.” Anger stacked a barricade against him, shielding myself. “I used you because I was sad and missing Colton. I saw Colton in you that night. It was wrong, and I apologize.”

  And it was a lie.

  His face was emotionless. His dimple twitched, straining against his jaw. He watched the street, the sound of tires rolling over damp pavement echoed around us. Slushing and crunching.

  “You know what I fear?” he said. “I’m afraid I will never break free from Colton’s shadow. I’m the brother who shouldn’t have lived.”