by K. B. Nelson
I’ve found my way home, and I’m terrified of what happens when this moment’s over, so I close my eyes and choose to dream…
26
Apple
Fucking idiot doesn’t even take care to lock his doors. Middle of the day or not, expensive condo building with security or not, he’s a fucking idiot. I storm through the door and scream, “Brick.”
I know he’s here, because his precious fucking car is parked on the curb. Right when I’m about to scream again, he comes stumbling out of the bedroom bare-chested, and pulling his jeans up his muscular legs as he shushes me.
“You’re a fucking piece of shit, though I’m sure neither of us are surprised.” I’m beyond enraged. There’s a part of my soul being chipped away every time I take a breath.
“What are you doing in my house?” he whisper-shouts and grabs my at the shoulder, guiding me toward the door.
“Does it bother you when someone barges into your house without permission?” How many fucking times has he done the exact same thing to me? How many times have I returned home to find him lurking around my place? The same rules never apply to him.
“Yeah, it does actually. So I’m going to need you to leave.” He pushes me out the door and pulls the door shut behind him. “I thought you wanted me out of your life?”
I ball my right hand into a fist and punch him in the face. He falls back against the door, taken aback even though he shouldn’t be. When he shakes the punch off and begins to recover, I throw another punch, but he prevents the blow from landing by taking hold of both my arms. “Care to share why you’re assaulting me?”
“You lied to me,” I seethe with venom.
He sighs and clears blood from his lip with his tongue. “We can’t keep living in the past.”
“You lied to me about Eve and David.”
“I don’t recall anyone by the name of David if we’re being honest.” He bobs his head slightly, and then adds, “Unless you’re talking about the Bible.”
“The quarterback, Brick.” How the fuck could he forget? Has he ruined one too many lives to keep track of them all? At least I can keep an accurate record of my bad behavior. Somehow, he’s able to forget.
A shadow of guilt passes over him. His eyelids fall over his eyes in a too-long blink. “I’m so sorry, Apple,” he says softly.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” I hadn’t wanted to believe it. It’s too damaging of a truth to process. “He never cheated on me. Not with Eve, and not with anyone else.”
He can’t muster the strength to say a single damn word. He can’t even look me in the eyes.
“Goddamn you, Brick,” I curse him under my breath, and draw a quick sniffle. I’ve prided myself on being strong for too long, and the tears welling in the corner of my eyes are both a welcome relief, and a terrifying realization. “We ruined her life. We’re responsible for her death.”
“We didn’t tie the rope,” he says deadpan, but I know he’s just looking for an easy way out. If nothing else, we’re experts at lying to ourselves. It’s a useful tool for survival, when everything we say or do is all a part of fucked up games.
“No, but we sure as fuck handed it to her.” I throw my fist against the wall, crunching and bloodying my bones, but I don’t care. I deserve the pain. I deserve so much more. “Here you go,” I chuckle maniacally. “Take this rope. It’ll make all the pain go away.”
“Stop it,’ he demands and claps his hands together. “Don’t say that.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to forgive yourself.” He places a firm hand upon my cheek, and then a hand upon the other. “I want you to forgive me.”
“We’re too far gone,” I cry in a whisper. There’s nothing left to feel. Even the happiness I feel when I’m with Jensen will be forever tainted. I know this to be true. He’s seen firsthand the damage I’m capable of. He won’t stick around when he realizes my sins will drag him to the bottom of the ocean.
“Maybe so,” he says, not exactly alleviating the swelling of my gut.
I’m too numb, and too hollow to stay here any longer. Without saying a word, I turn to leave.
Brick latches onto my shoulder and spins me back around, embracing me in a hug when the turn is complete. His embrace is tight, reeking of loneliness and love. Everything is so often flipped on its head. Last night, I couldn’t stand to be around him, and now I want nothing more than to return the sentiment and squeeze him tight.
I clasp my arms around him and rest my head on his shoulder. Solace is found in the arms of my enemy. There’s something poetic about it, or I’ve made one too many enemies and the only people left to pick up the pieces are my enemies.
Don’t ask me for a definitive answer one-way or the other. I’m too much of a fucking mess.
“We don’t get to forget what we’ve done,” Brick whispers against my ear in a heavy, but soothing whisper. “It’s a burden we must live with for the rest of our lives.” He sighs as I feel the weight of a single tear fall onto my cheek. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, but I think you’re going to need me as much as I’m going to need you if we’re going to survive this bad fucking situation.”
“You can’t drag me back into your world, Brick.”
“I’m trying to drag you away from it.” His arms unravel from behind me, and they trail to caress my arms. He lifts my chin and stares into my eyes, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t see the Devil. “We don’t have to be at war with each other. We have enough battles to face, and not enough strength alone to fight them.”
I’m listening, but not speaking. My mind is too obstructed trying to process the events of the past twenty-four hours, and I’m out of words to say.
“Can I tell you something without risking a black eye?” he asks with an arched brow.
“It’s a gamble.” I shrug apprehensively. “You’ve always been a gambler.”
“I love you, Apple.” He flinches away, prepared to dodge another fist to the face. When he’s met with a blank, unsure stare instead of my fist, he feels safe enough to continue on. “Not in the way I thought before, but in a way that was always there, hovering in the background. You complete me, but I thought it for all the wrong reasons. You complete me because whether you like it or not, we’re the same person.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“We just had to meet better people than ourselves to see it.”
“You can be charming when you want to be.”
“You might never see me again in this life, but always know you hold a special place in my heart, and you’ll always be my best friend.”
There’s no stopping the waterworks now. Short, solitary tears are chased down my cheeks by an army of sadness. I’m crying because Eve is dead, and our remorse will never bring her back. I’m crying because my world has been turned upside down. In some ways for the better, and in other ways, for the worse.
But most of all, I’m crying because I now know what I have to do. I must leave Carolina again, and this time, I can never return. And I’ll be leaving behind Brick, right when he’s proved he’s more than capable of changing. Underneath all the macho bullshit, and bad behavior, is a man with a heart of gold.
My heart breaks because I will never have the chance to know him.
27
Brick
Apathy.
No, that’s not it. It’s something else entirely. A painful bullet to the chest. Finding strength in weakness is a stunning feat. Finding weakness in strength is reserved for all but the rarest of occurrences.
I’m stronger than I’ve ever been, but I’m fumbling through the dark. I’m weaker than I’ve ever been, because I’m strong now. My strength gives me guidance, but it doesn’t give me the courage to implement the new path I must embark on.
My hand rests on the doorknob, with an apprehensive drive to push it open. Here in the hall, I’m alone. When I walk through the door and say what needs to be sai
d, I’ll be alone again.
I’ll always end up alone. Consequences were always such a foreign thing, reserved for those who were beneath me, struggling with their agonizing weaknesses. Choices define each and every one of us. Long after decisions fade into memories of the past, our choices remain engraved into the fabric of our futures.
My head sinks so I stare at the floor as I push the door shut behind me. I don’t hear it click into place, and feel a draft sweeping in from the hallway. I don’t care enough to turn around to ensure it’s shut. What’s the point when she’ll be fleeing through the door any second.
I stop when I reach the bedroom door. It’s not too late to change course.
It’s always too late.
Realizations rarely philander during peak opportune times. They rest in the dark shadows of one’s mind, speeding into the active stream of conscience when the wheels of change have already been locked in place.
I’ve changed, though it doesn’t matter anymore.
I can’t live with what I’ve done, and remain happy. It’s not fair for all those whom I’ve crossed paths with. It’s not fair for Eve or her mourning family.
“Why was she here?” Tyra asks as I walk through the bedroom door.
“I can’t be with you,” I say softly and look away.
“What are you talking about?”
My eyes cross paths with her as I search for something to get lost in. “I killed Eve.”
“What?” She pulls the covers over her naked body, not wanting to have this conversation when she’s completely exposed. “No, you didn’t.”
“I didn’t kill her, but she committed suicide because of my actions.”
“You can’t blame yourself for—“
“I can.” I look her in the eyes and own my shit. “I do. She was a game to me, and I took pleasure in dismantling her perfect life.”
“Brick, you’ve done terrible things.” She leans over and grabs her shirt, but never takes her eyes off me as she begins buttoning it. “But you can’t go through the rest of this life if you can’t let the past go.”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” My mouth quivers. “I’m reminded every damn day of who I used to be. There’s no escaping that.”
“Fine.” She buttons the last button and pulls her panties up her leg. “Your heart is heavy with guilt. It should be, but if you surrender into the guilt, then you become another casualty of yourself.”
I nod, searching for the right words to make her understand. But the thing is, I know she never will. She’ll fight this until the very end. There’s only one route left to take. “You were a bet.”
“I know,” she scoffs and slides from the bed.
What? “And you’re still with me? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I saw you for everything you couldn’t. You think you’re this big, scary bad man.” She places a gentle, calming hand against my bare chest. “You’re not.”
I stare down upon her petite frame. “I’m everything you don’t want to believe I am.” I push her hand away. “I’m a monster. I’m a bastard.”
“You’re a good man. Why can’t you just accept that and stop fighting it?”
“I don’t love you.” Those words fucking hurt. The sting across her face hurts worse. “You were nothing more than a bet.”
She shakes her head in disgust. “You’re so full of shit.”
“I’m not.” I hesitate before continuing on, because I need to fully commit before I say what comes next. “Don’t you think the timing is suspect? I finally get a taste of your pussy, and now I’m calling it quits?”
Tears form at the crease of her eyes, and I’m a total fucking wreck. It’s all I’ve ever been. I was once the train, and now I’m the idiot who parked his car on the tracks. “I told you,” I continue, “I’m a monster.”
“You’re breaking my heart,” she pouts, but she doesn’t need to say it. It’s written all over her beautiful, angelic face.
“That’s the point, princess.”
She rushes to me, hoping to make sense out of what I’ve become since my conversation with Apple. “My heart’s not breaking because you’re standing here lying to me. It’s breaking because you’re a coward, and you’d rather give up on love than admit you’ve changed.” She cups her palm around her trembling lips. “I get it. You can’t forgive yourself for what’s transpired, but the thing you’re not getting is that is the exact damn reason I’m falling in love with you. You’re an amazing guy stuck in the shadows of your sordid past. And you’ll stay there until the day you die, because you don’t believe in yourself the way I believe in you.”
I’ve had enough practice to hold back the tears, but if I don’t get her out of here soon, I’ll be exposed for the fraud I am. When all else fails… “Blow me, bitch.”
She sees right through me, but can no longer look me in the eyes. “It’s all deflection. You don’t mean a word you say.”
I latch onto one arm and rip her jeans off the floor with my free hand. It takes every ounce of strength left in my body to drag her to the front door without collapsing into her loving arms. I push her out into the hallway.
“Don’t let him win, Brick. Don’t let the monster win.”
I simply shrug. “There’s no point in fighting it anymore.”
I take one last mental picture of her, knowing I’ll never see her again. She’ll live on in my memories, my heart, and my soul.
I slam the door in her face.
And fuck you Dad, for always saying boys don’t cry.
28
Apple
“Jensen,” I scream as I enter the front door. “We’re leaving.”
He comes out of the kitchen, carrying a box of packed dinnerware. “What’s going on?”
“We have to leave this place.” I shake my head. “We never should have come back.”
“You know how I thought about it from the very beginning.” He sets the box on top of a towering pile of packed belongings. He’s been hard at work while I’ve been gone.
“I should have listened to you.”
“Would’ve been the smart decision.” He smiles and throws his arms around me. “Lord knows, I’m always right.”
“Don’t get carried away.”
“All that’s left to pack is your bedroom and the living room.” He cradles me in his arms, letting out a relieved sigh against my head. “We can be finished packing by tonight.”
“The sooner the better.”
“What’s gotten into you?” He pulls away and studies my face.
“Brick.”
“That mother—“ His hand balls into a fist. His neck tenses and his lips purse with anger.
“Not like that.” I shake my head, looking to the floor because I can’t believe I’m about to say something I never thought I would. “He’s really changed.”
“I’m not buying it.” He shrugs.
“You don’t have to, but you don’t know him like I do.”
“Then why storm the castle, demanding we leave?”
“Because he made me realize this place is going to be the death of me.” A slow excruciating death. “I can’t stay here when everything reminds me of my past. I can’t survive from one day to the next when I’m reminded of Eve at every turn.”
“Speaking of Eve—“
I put my hand up to him, signaling I’m not able to talk about her right now. “I don’t want to fight.”
“It’s about her mother.” He taps his foot nervously against the floor and swaths his tongue across his lips. “She’s on the warpath. She knows everything, and she’s out for blood.”
I take a measured step back, and my mind is at it again. Scenarios are painted in horrifying images. I don’t know how she knows, or what she’s planning. I don’t even know the women, but I know we deserve whatever comes our way. Still, the first thing on my mind is to save him. “Brick?”
“Worry about yourself first.” He caresses my arms and chews nervously into h
is cheek. “Brick can take care of himself.”
“I’m so sorry,” I cry through dry tears. “For everything.”
“There’s nothing left to apologize for.”
“How can you forgive me?” It doesn’t make any damn sense, but what does anymore? He’s too good of man for me, and I know I don’t deserve his love. But his love is the only thing capable of saving me now.
“We’ve been through this before.” He bows his head over me and kisses softly against my forehead. “I don’t care who you were before you met me, because that’s not the girl I know.”
“I love you,” it escapes my lips like an enduring promise.
“You haven’t said that in what feels like forever,” he says with a long, relieved sigh.
“I love you,” I say again. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” If I say it enough, maybe the hurt will fade away.
His fingers flirt with mine, tangling around flesh with an undeniable sense of comforting urgency. A heart-warming, perfectly tuned smile passes across his lips before he drops onto his knees and digs a box from his back pocket.
“What the hell are you—“
He flips the box open, showcasing a beautiful diamond ring. “Marry me?”
“Jensen…”
“I know I’m flirting with Titanic-meets-iceberg timing here, but—“
“Yes.” I cover my mouth as I break into a symphony of tears.
“Really.”
“Yes, you fucking idiot.”
“You’re such a smooth talker.” He slides the ring onto my thin finger, and the fit is perfect. My lips fold inside out as I tremble with every emotion on the spectrum. The old Apple Malloy knew this day would never come, because she didn’t want it to come.
“Tell me something I don’t fucking know,” I say as I laugh through an embarrassing chuckle, where my happiness and joy is overcome with salty tears rolling onto my lips.
