by Tijan
He looked so uncertain. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, Sam. I never thought about it from your side, and you’re right. Logan and I were just doing things. We were making decisions without consulting you, and I can see how infuriating that would be. It’s my fault.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I came to you broken. You and Logan put me back together, and that was the start of us. But that’s how it remained. You protected me. You fought for me, and I let you.” I closed my hand into a fist and pressed it against my chest. “Every girl wants that. They want the guy to come in and save them. You gave me that fairytale, but I let it go on too long. I’m supposed to find my own footing and walk next to you. I never did that.” I felt the tears falling. I didn’t care. “I have to find that in me now, and it’s not your fault. Ever. I don’t want you to think you’re to blame for this.”
“But you’re in pain.”
Another step. He still didn’t reach out.
“It’s not your fault,” I said.
“I don’t know how to help you.”
A second step. He was within touching now. I ached to reach for him.
My voice was so hoarse. “I know. And I’d feel the same torment if it were the other way around.”
He held his hand out now. I took it, clasping tightly.
He looked down at our joined hands. “I really am sor—”
I squeezed his hand. “Never apologize for protecting me. Ever.” I inched toward him, feeling his arm pressed against my side. Another inch and I would be touching the rest of him. I held back. I was content to let my mouth water.
“If I can help you, tell me. Please.”
I nodded. “I will. Taylor said I’m changing, and that’s what’s going on with me.”
He grinned faintly. “What else did she say?”
“That one day it’ll be better.”
“Does she know when that day will be?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think anyone knows.”
He let out a sigh, running his free hand through his hair. “This is going to suck, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I said that so softly, so quietly, I wasn’t even sure I said it. Then my eyes closed, and I leaned forward that last inch. My forehead rested against Mason’s chest, and his hand held the back of my neck. His thumb moved back and forth, comforting me.
“I love you, Sam.”
I felt the words through his chest.
“I know.”
That wasn’t the problem.
As Taylor predicted, the morning’s run sucked, but I won.
Logan had given Taylor and me a ride in, and he picked us up after practice. We all went back to the house, and I assumed they napped. I went to my room and slept until the afternoon. Logan gave us another ride back in at two, and the second run was a lot better. I won again.
Mason came home in the evening after practice, and the whole house just chilled. Even Nate. He’d been going out with some of his other friends, but he stayed in tonight. Logan and Taylor were here, and Matteo and a couple other football guys came over.
Someone started a movie in the media room downstairs, and Logan declared it was time that Chef Logan came out again. Forty minutes later, we were treated to another buffet of grilled meat: Steak. Hamburger. Chicken. Brats. I think he even grilled some tofu for Taylor, but while she kissed him on the cheek for his thoughtfulness, she reached for a chicken breast.
Mason and I made love that night, and there was a tenderness to it that had me melting.
The rest of the week passed much the same way: Logan drove Taylor and me to both runs. We napped in between. Mason came home at night, and everyone hung out at the house. Matteo was joined by another couple of guys every night. By Friday, it was just an unspoken agreement that the party was in our basement.
When I asked about the guys’ “secret” plans to see my mom in Fallen Crest, Mason said they wouldn’t do anything without my opinion asked for and given. I was relieved to hear that, and now the Friday night party morphed into Nate’s birthday celebration.
The guys called more people over.
Logan grilled so much meat that it wasn’t a third Meat Rushmore anymore. It was now Meat Everest. The guys brought more booze, more kegs, and then the girls started trickling in. They set up a DJ booth, and by eleven that night, the party was in full swing.
I was nestled on Mason’s lap, sitting on the veranda with Nate, Logan, Taylor, Matteo, and a bunch of others when Faith and Raelynn moved past us in the yard. Both had drinks in their hands, and their hair was loose and shiny. Raelynn wore tight jeans and a white halter top. I wanted it to make her look cheap and trailer trashy, but it did the opposite. She looked like some wealthy tourist. Faith had a similar top, though hers rested just above her waist and showed half an inch of her stomach. She had on a long and flowing skirt. As she stepped forward, I saw her flat sandals and decided she just needed henna tattoos on her arms to complete the bohemian look.
“Are you lost?” I called as I sat up from Mason’s chest.
His arms remained around me, but they moved to my legs. He looked over to see who I was addressing. Everyone did, and Logan was the first to snort.
“They gotta be lost,” he added, and with one lithe jump, he was over the veranda’s fence and landing right in front of them.
Their eyes rounded, but Faith’s jaw firmed. “We’re not lost.” Her hand tightened around her drink.
“This is a private party.” Logan folded his arms over his chest. “Next time we’ll leave signs up to alert everyone that you’re not welcome, but if you want to save time, just know there’s always a disclaimer to our parties.” He placed his hand to the side of his mouth and pretended to whisper, “You’re not invited.” He shot Raelynn a look. “You either.”
“You don’t have to be rude.”
“On the contrary, what are you doing here? I think that makes you the rude ones.”
Faith started laughing. She turned to find me. “I’ve heard stories about your guard dogs. Is this it? I get a vague and sarcastic threat?” She looked Logan up and down, wrinkling her nose. “I gotta say, you’re underperforming.”
I almost laughed. Almost. I held it in and got comfortable against Mason’s chest once again. The whole veranda seemed to share my thoughts. Taylor was shaking her head, grinning. Nate too. The other guys just watched. Logan wasn’t one to ignore when a gauntlet was thrown down.
“Say what?” He pretended to wind his arm up, his hand ending cupped behind his ear. Pretending to clean his ear out with a knuckle, he shook his head. “What was that I just heard? Did you say I ‘underperformed’?” He twisted back to us. “Mase.”
“Yeah?” Mason sat up again, but he held me in place so I wouldn’t fall.
Faith and Raelynn looked as well. Faith’s eyes caught mine and lingered. I saw a quick flash of emotion, something dark, but it was gone as soon as it appeared.
“All the chicks I’ve been with, have any of them said I ‘underperformed’?” Logan asked.
“Watch where you’re going with this,” Taylor warned, but she hadn’t moved from her relaxed position on the bench. Her eyes were alert.
Logan pointed at her without looking. “See? Right there. That’s one satisfied girlfriend. I’ve never underperformed.” He looked Faith up and down again, exaggerating this time. “Though I can’t say the same for you. Word through the cross-country grapevine is you’ve been underperforming quite a bit this week.” His eyes narrowed. “You thought you could keep up . . .” His eyes glanced to me, then back to her.
I sat up slowly.
Mason’s arms loosened around me again.
Faith stiffened. “It was a learning curve. I know better now.”
“You’re right. You know how much ass Sam can kick, and she kicked yours.” Logan whistled under his breath. “She kicked it all up and down an entire second route.”
“Like I said,” Faith hissed. “I know better now.”
I frowned and
called, “What does that mean?”
Faith found me again. That same dark emotion appeared before it vanished. “What?” Her tone was frozen.
“You ‘know better now.’ What does that mean?”
“It means I know how much I have to train.” Her smile turned icy. “Because I’m going to beat you. I should thank you.”
That was a bait.
I wasn’t going to get hooked.
“I’ve never been challenged before,” she said, her eyes bored.
Raelynn snapped around to look at her friend.
“It’s about time it happened.” Faith either didn’t notice her friend’s reaction, or she ignored it. She moved closer, so I was almost staring down at her. “You’re going to make me a better runner, but don’t get confused. I will beat you. I win. That’s what I do.”
“You really think like that?” That wasn’t what bothered me. I moved to stand by the stairs, and crossed my arms over my chest. “What happens when you don’t get your way? What do you do if you can’t fulfill what must happen in your mind?”
She rolled her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m going to beat you.” I already had. “I will continue to beat you. No matter how hard you train, how fast you can go, I will always be faster. What are you going to do when you’re forced to accept the fact that I’m better than you?”
She wasn’t laughing anymore. There were no scoffs or cocky attitude. She glared right at me, and that dark emotion showed again. This time, it stuck. I identified it now.
Jealousy.
That was when I knew. She knew I was better. She knew she couldn’t beat me.
“Are you going to physically hurt me?” I asked.
I waited to see surprise at the idea of it. There was nothing. That told me one thing: she’d already been thinking about it.
“No.” I shook my head. “You’re not going to take running away from me.” My tone was curt, and I felt shivers down my spine. They weren’t there because of her, or what she might do. They were there because of me.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know how far I would go to keep the one thing that had saved me.
Running saved my life.
She scoffed now, but saw my darkness too. And she blinked. I heard a twinge of caution in her voice. “Stop trying to claim I’m going to hurt you. You did it earlier, saying I was going to hurt your friend—”
Taylor surged to her feet, coming to stand beside me. She folded her arms.
Faith wavered; her voice hitched as she finished. “I had no plans of doing that, and I have no plans to hurt you either.”
“Here’s the rule.”
Faith looked at me, waiting.
“You hurt us. We hurt you. What you dish out comes back at you.”
Her lips pressed together, and her thin shoulders lifted up in a breath. She didn’t reply, but I thought I saw a slight edge of fear spark in her eyes.
Raelynn broke the brief silence with a mocking laugh. “Why do you think—”
“Shut up, Rae.” Faith grabbed her arm. “Let’s go.” She glared at Taylor and me, then swept her eyes to Logan. She spoke through gritted teeth. “We’re not welcome here.”
They left, and Logan waited two seconds before bursting out, “I either wet my pants, or I had the quickest release ever.” He waved his hands in a flourish, indicating us. “Well done, and you two together are fucking hot.” His hands fell to the front of his pants. “I’m still hard. Honey?” He winked at Taylor. “Quickie?”
She groaned, but her face was already flushing. “You’re the most romantic boyfriend ever. How have you stayed single all this time?”
Logan hopped up the steps and grabbed her hand. “With tenacity and battering rams. Those bitches try to break down my barriers, but fuck no. I got SWAT covering me. No bitch could shatter my protest line.”
She laughed as he swept her inside. The door shut before we heard her retort.
“Sam.” Matteo raised his beer to me. “I got new respect for you.”
He wandered down to the bonfire, followed by the rest of the guys who had been on the veranda with us. They nodded to me as well, and I felt an arm encircle my waist. I closed my eyes, feeling Mason’s hard body pressed up against me.
“Hmmm.” I moaned, feeling his lips settle on my neck. “Is this your version of asking for a quickie?”
His other arm slid around me, anchoring me in place. His lips moved up my throat and landed at the corner of my mouth.
“It’d be longer than a quickie, and I have to give my brother props. That was hot.”
“That’s my goal in life. To embody my inner she-devil for your viewing pleasure.”
He pressed up against me. “Consider this my thank you ahead of time.”
I laughed and turned to wind my arms around his neck. I looked up into his eyes. There was a lot of shit going on with me, but him and me? We’d never be on shaky ground.
“Maybe I can ask for a quickie?” I said. I pressed back against him, my ache deepening.
He breathed out, “I thought you’d never ask.”
He grabbed my ass and hoisted me up. My legs went around his waist, and he carried me back through the party to our bedroom. We remained there for the rest of the night.
The house was empty when I woke around four in the morning. That had been my normal time to get up for a run, and my body hadn’t adjusted to cross-country season yet. I didn’t want to wake Mason, so I slipped out into the hallway to use the bathroom there. Hearing talking from the kitchen when I finished, I grabbed a robe from under the counter and tiptoed the rest of the way. It wasn’t that I was hoping to be sneaky, I was just tired.
“Are you sure?” I heard Taylor ask as I came around the doorway.
Logan leaned against the counter in sweats. His arms were crossed over his chest, and Taylor rested against his side.
“Do they know what happened?” she said into the phone.
I mouthed to Logan, “Who is that?”
He mouthed back, “Her dad.”
I sat down on a chair that was already pulled out from the table and slid my hands under my legs to keep them warm. Then I waited.
Taylor nodded as she listened. After a few minutes, she sighed into the phone. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know. Yeah. I love you, Dad.”
She hung up and didn’t say anything at first. Her shoulders slumped forward as she continued to hold the phone in her hand.
She sighed again. “That was my dad.”
Logan frowned.
I frowned. My heart beat faster, and I wet my lips. This wasn’t going to be good.
She still didn’t look at either of us. “He wanted me to know there had been a car accident. Someone from campus called him.”
I expected her to say her friend Jason’s name, or one of her other friends. Maybe even one of her relatives.
Then she looked at me. “Raelynn’s in the hospital. A drunk driver hit her car.”
Faith wasn’t at Monday’s practice.
Courtney told me the girls from the team had gone to visit Raelynn on Saturday. Taylor and I hadn’t been invited, but I didn’t know what we would’ve done if we had been. Taylor still had PTSD every time she visited hospitals, since she saw her mom gunned down in one. I completely understood that, but I still felt I needed to show up. So instead of Taylor, Logan went with me on Monday afternoon. Mason was at football. I wouldn’t see him till that evening anyways.
“Is this wrong?” Logan was almost bouncing next to me as we walked down the hallway. Our shoes scraped against the floor, and the stench of bleach and chemicals was thick in the air. “I’m a little excited to see if she’s really hurt or if she’s just faking. My bet’s on faking. This whole thing is a scam. They want to pin it on you somehow.”
I stopped and stared at him. “Are you joking? Please tell me you’re joking. You think this is a huge ploy?”
He frowned. “Uh, yeah. That bitch is crazy. I wouldn’t put it past her
to ask her friend to sit in her car, then pay a drunk homeless guy to ram a truck into her. I bet she didn’t tell the homeless guy her friend was in there either.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Have we not met before?” He held out his hand, much like he had when we were going to the career counselor. “I’m Logan. I’m a jaded son of a bitch. I can’t technically call my mom a bitch, but I know Helen is one.” He wiggled his fingers. “And you are?”
I knocked his hand aside. “This isn’t funny, and stop introducing yourself to me. That joke’s getting old.”
He twisted around, looking up and down the hallway. “Who’s laughing? Not me.” He stared down at me, long and hard. “People have done worse shit to us. Fuck. If she did orchestrate this, at least it wasn’t your car. Remember Nate?”
Budd Broudou had once cut Nate’s brake lines, thinking they were Mason’s. Nate pulled out of the school parking lot and was T-boned by an oncoming truck. His recovery took weeks.
I didn’t know if Faith or Raelynn had orchestrated this, but I didn’t want to walk into Raelynn’s hospital room with that suspicion in mind. Too late, though. Logan said it, and now it was in my head. I pushed it to the back. I had a feeling she wasn’t going to be ecstatic to see me anyway, but I still wanted her to know I felt badly. I was just being a decent human being.
“You’ve got to be kidding?”
The contorted, half-gasped statement came from behind us. We turned to see Faith in the middle of the hallway. She had a Styrofoam cup in her hand, and the blood drained from her face. She had bags under her eyes and looked like she hadn’t slept in days.
“Get out.” A mangled growl erupted from the back of her throat. Her eyes blazed, and she moved toward us. “Out! Now!”
I frowned. “Why are you reacting like this?”
She took another step toward us. The liquid in her cup spilled out over her hand, but she didn’t seem to notice. She could only glare at me.
“Because for all I know, you paid someone to hit her. Did you have someone follow us home and then get her as she pulled out of my driveway? Was that how it went down?”
