by Rachel Rust
Sleep never came, as I was fearful that Alex DeMarco would.
Chapter Forty
She Holds Her Breath
The next morning, cars came and went. They all danced the same parking lot dance, meandering around a couple of corners until an adequate parking spot revealed itself.
Lance’s Chevy settled into a spot one row over from where I had parked. He hopped out of the driver’s door right in front of me, wide-eyed, black hair disheveled.
We stood facing one another for a few seconds which ticked on like years.
“Didn’t sleep much last night,” Lance finally said, running a hand through his hair.
“Me either. I kept waiting for—”
The smooth roar of a black Mustang cut me off. Alex sped by, nearly taking out a sophomore girl. The girl’s boyfriend glared at Alex but didn’t do much else to defend her. Especially not when Alex parked right next to them and got out of his car … stretching his tall figure well over the other boy.
Alex ignored them, choosing instead to stare right at me. His left temple had a small white bandage taped to it. My heart raced, and I grabbed Lance’s elbow. “Let’s go.”
Once inside the school, we split up and went to our respective lockers. Down the hall from mine, Alex stood, leaned against a wall, watching me gather my things. His non-expression made my mind spin with bad-ending possibilities. Possibilities which got worse the more I dwelled on them.
I closed my locker and headed down the hallway. I didn’t have to look back to know Alex was following me. My feet scrambled toward homeroom as quickly as my knee would allow. Mr. B loitered outside the classroom door as he always did. My eyes focused on him, rushing and zigzagging around the bodies in my way.
Alex grabbed my arm.
I spun and yanked it free. He took another step, directly toward me, nearly knocking me back.
“We need to talk.”
“Like hell we do,” I said, turning on my heel.
He grabbed my arm again, this time his fingers digging in deep. With a hard yank, he had me against a row of lockers. I twisted to free myself, but flinched to a stop at the feel of a sharp jab in my side. A flicker of metal stuck out from Alex’s long sleeve t-shirt.
He twisted the switchblade against my shirt. I winched as the tip penetrated the fabric. Hot tears filled my eyes. “I have to get to class,” I said, having no idea what else to say to a knife-wielding crazy person.
“No, I don’t think you do. We need to talk, so we’re not going to class today.”
“I can’t skip, I—”
Alex squeezed my arm harder. “Don’t give me any of that good-girl bullshit.”
With the next blink of my eyes, tears spilled loose.
He stared at my wet cheek. “Why’re you crying? You don’t have a rock this time?” His Red Bull breath came closer. “Where’s your knight in shining armor? Oh, that’s right … he’s not exactly available, is he?”
Red fury waved through me in every direction. I had come too far to let a three-inch blade screw everything up. I stared right at Alex, holding his gaze. “Don’t fucking touch me!” I screamed.
The loud F-bomb worked. Mr. B was by my side immediately. “Time to go to class, Mr. DeMarco,” he said.
Alex didn’t look at him, keeping his eyes on mine. “I’ll catch ya later then,” he whispered in my ear. He kissed my temple. “Don’t go and do anything stupid.” He maintained his gaze on me as he walked away. I marched into homeroom before Mr. B could ask me any questions.
My heart raced as I waited for the morning bell to ring. Nina and Taya stared at me, no doubt sensing my unease, but surprisingly they said nothing. Maybe there was a kind of silence that wafted off me like back-off sonar.
The classroom door opened, and Sergeant Rollins walked in.
“Oh crap,” I muttered under my breath. Alex really had told Rollins about me hitting him with the rock. A game of he said-she said with a DeMarco? The town delinquent’s girlfriend versus the bank president’s son? No way would I win that argument. Not in this town, anyway.
Rollins and Mr. B exchanged a few words and then both looked my direction.
The bell rang. Bile crept up my esophagus. I mentally persuaded the puke to stay in my stomach.
Rollins, with his eyes glued to mine, headed my way.
The bell ended. A slight click sounded. The school song was next—on a normal day.
My face tensed. I needed to be cool. Act surprised. Rollins was just two desks up from mine, closing in fast.
“Jesus.” Alex’s voice rang out over the PA system. “It’s not that hard to understand…”
Everybody in the class froze—including Rollins. Then snickers sounded and heads whipped around as if to ask am I the only one hearing this? I bit down on my tongue. My body trembled from an odd concoction of laughter and utter nerves.
“Taking Nathan’s jersey was the easiest part,” Alex’s voice continued. “He walked outta the locker room and threw it into the bin. It was right there, so I grabbed it. The next day, a few bricks through the Shadville window and then the jersey. And I thought that’d be the nail in Stone’s coffin, but apparently not. I needed to up the ante… I asked to borrow Nathan’s gun… I used it on The Pit Stop.”
There was a slight rumble in the audio. Lance’s audio editing skills were amateur at best.
“Alex DeMarco always gets what he wants eventually,” his voice continued, “and—”
The PA system went dead. The room went quiet. And then laughter erupted. Mr. B put his hands up to hush the noise, but it did no good. Rollins spun on his heels and left the classroom with his signature hyperactive Chihuahua steps.
“Was that Alex DeMarco?” someone behind me whispered.
“He’s such an ass,” someone else said. “Can’t stand him, never could.”
Whispers and laughter continued throughout homeroom. When the bell ending the period rang, I walked out of the classroom not paying attention to Taya and Nina’s nonstop chatter about Alex’s words. I couldn’t hear much over the sound of my own nerves, anxious to find out what ripples—or tidal waves—I had created.
Down the hall, a crowd had gathered. I pushed my way through the sea of humans into the foyer where Rollins led a handcuffed Alex DeMarco toward the front doors.
I reached the doors just in time and pushed it open with a smile. “Here, allow me.”
Rollins grabbed Alex’s arm tight and shoved him through the door without a glance my way. Alex looked at back at me, and I winked. His eyes glazed over with anger as the door snapped shut. And then he was gone.
I smiled widely, full of giddy accomplishment. I took my phone from my pocket and texted Lance.
Lydia: You still looking for a reporter? I’m definitely interested
He texted back immediately.
Lance: You can start whenever you want! What kind of subs do you like?
Lydia: Turkey and American cheese. Mustard not mayo
Lance: Done!
As I laughed, the bell rang to start the next period. Principal Jackson and a few teachers shoved their way into the crowd, forcing us apart.
“Get to your class,” Jackson shouted. “Go now!”
Everyone around me scattered. But I stood my ground. Jackson headed my way, and I smiled as she approached.
“Looks like Nathan will be back in school soon,” I said.
She ignored my words and moved past me into her office. I sauntered down the hall to my next class, in no hurry to appease Principal Jackson or anyone else.
Life was good.
Chapter Forty-One
He Breathes the Horizon
The small room Theo White Eagle made me wait in was too damn warm. With the door closed, the blast of heat from the overhead duct had nowhere to go but to the back of my neck. Like sandpaper, the heat grated my skin, clinging like a bad rash.
But I didn’t care. I was back in my own clothes. A Nike t-shirt and jeans, which weren’t enough for the Novemb
er temperatures outside, but I longed for the cool air. I woulda run through fucking Siberia to get outta Chet Rollins’s vicinity.
The door opened.
“Here,” Theo said, plopping down my wallet, phone, and keys onto the desk. “Phone’s dead.”
“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” I asked. “Why you’re dropping the charges all of a sudden?”
Theo shook his head. “Can’t discuss the case. Suffice to say we got ourselves a new suspect”—his eyes met mine—“and I shouldn’t have even said that.”
My lip curled with a single chuckle.
“C’mon, I’ll walk you out,” he said.
I followed him down the hallway. Muffled voices drifted from the wall to my left. They were coming from the interrogation room. Chet Rollins was speaking to someone. With my next step, a familiar face appeared through the small window in the door.
Seated in the black plastic chair was Alex DeMarco. Handcuffed.
“Keep moving,” Theo said, turning back to look at me.
“Why the hell is DeMarco here?”
“Don’t ask questions you know I can’t answer,” Theo said. Before reaching the front reception area, he stopped and waited until I was within whispering distance. “If you want details, ask your attorney. Or…” Theo paused with a smile. “I suggest asking your girlfriend.”
A million questions spun in my head. But they vanished the moment I moved past Theo and stepped outside. The cool air hit me, and I inhaled deep. The horizon stretching out in every direction beckoned me. A good day for a run, but my work boots were clunky chunks of leather and rubber. If only I had been arrested wearing running shoes.
My contemplation of jogging home in boots stopped short when a red SUV pulled up alongside Theo’s squad car. Lydia hopped out of the car so fast that I doubted she had even remembered to apply the parking brake. She made her way toward me, limping heavily. But the smile on her face beamed bright, and it didn’t look like she gave a damn about any pain.
I took two steps forward and our torsos collided, arms wrapping tight around one another. My nose plunged into her neck, inhaling her scent. The memory of it as fresh as the day I had last held her. My arms wrapped tighter, lifting her up, holding onto her the way a freed man held onto the very thing that made him feel free.
“They let you go,” she said with laughter, as her tears soaked through my shirt, warming the top of my shoulder. “I knew they would. I knew it!”
“How did you know they’d let me out?” I asked. “And why is DeMarco here?”
She laughed at my question. “Well … that’s a long story and—”
“Let’s go, Nathan,” Theo said, walking out the station doors. He nodded to his car. “Your aunt just called. She wants you home yesterday, and asked me to give you a ride back.”
I opened my mouth in protest but didn’t know what to say. I wanted to stay with Lydia, soak her in. Yet I also wanted to go home and eat everything in the fridge. And, delirious with fatigue, I wanted to go home and sleep for a week in the comfort of my own bed—in the attic bedroom I hated.
I glanced up at the blue sky, and Lydia kissed my chin.
“You need to shave.”
I ran my fingers against my chin. Ragged whiskers poked out of me like a comb missing bristles. It was the only spot I ever needed to shave. I couldn’t grow a full beard if my life depended on it.
“On second thought,” she said, and kissed my chin again. “Leave it. I kinda like it.”
“Whatever you say.” I pulled her in close and kissed her. The feel of her lips against mine faded the memories of the past few weeks.
Theo cleared his throat.
Lydia pulled her lips off mine and backed up, out of my arms. I reached for her again.
“It’s okay,” she said, slipping from my hands again. “You need to go see your family, go spoil Liliana.”
“But…” There was so much to say, so much to talk about that I didn’t even know where to start. The only thing that was crystal clear was the ache in my arms to hold her close. And yet she continued to move away.
She walked to her car, where she turned and blew me a kiss with a crooked grin. “You can come find me later tonight.”
A wave of electricity darted down my core, and the twitch in my boxer briefs elicited a quick grunted laugh. Hell yes, I’d find her later. Every fiber of me was going to hunt her down.
“Oh, and whatever you do,” she said, just before getting into her car, “please be nice to Sam.”
I cocked an eyebrow. Was she serious? Being nice to Sam was never on my to-do list, any day of the week.
“What the hell for?” I asked.
She laughed. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
After she drove off, I climbed into Theo’s car. I was asleep before we even hit the highway.
Chapter Forty-Two
Her Night. His Night.
Something thumped softly inside of my head. From a hazy gray fog, my sleeping mind lifted. And then there was another tapping, the sound of which made my eyes fly open. My room was pitch-black. My alarm clock read 1:17 a.m.
The tapping happened again. Light, but purposeful.
I sat up, giving my mind a few seconds to fully come to. After stretching my arms a bit, I walked to my bedroom door. The tapping sounded again.
I spun around. It was coming from the other side of the bedroom. My mind was on full alert now, the haze gone as I flew to the window. With my fingers, I pried the blinds apart. A head of black hair was perched outside. The moonlight streaked across his shiny tresses in a thick band of white-gray.
“What the hell?” I raised my blinds, then raised my window as high as it would go. “What are you doing?” I asked as Nathan climbed in.
He put his fingers to his lips, then shut the window.
“You don’t need to sneak in,” I said. “You could’ve used the front door. My parents aren’t even home.”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “Oh … well, the window was more fun anyway.” He stepped forward and pressed his lips to mine. He hadn’t shaved. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said against my mouth. “I just kept thinking about you. Plus, you still need to tell me what happened. Why DeMarco is in jail, and”—he laughed—“why the hell Sam was nice to me all day.”
I smiled. “That’s a really long story, and it’s one in the morning.”
His arms pulled me in closer. “I’ve got all night.”
My fingers curled around the zipper of his black nylon Nike jacket and pulled it down. I knew from his athletic pants and running shoes that he had not driven to my house.
He had run to me.
My hands moved up his chest, rounding up and over his shoulders until he shook the jacket off and threw it behind him onto the floor. My fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt, uncovering the warm taut skin beneath. Nathan yanked his shirt off. His broad bronzed shoulders and rounded biceps looked like they could both ravage and protect me all at the same time, and I wanted both at once.
“How about we save the talking for later?” I whispered.
I hooked a finger into his pants and led him to my bed, where I pushed him to sit on edge of the mattress. Our eyes locked—saying a million things at once—as my pajamas shed, until I stood in nothing but a pair of light blue underwear. His fingers caressed up the outside of my thighs, over my hips, pausing to toy with the material of my panties. He glanced up at me, his eyes asking if he were allowed.
I gave him a little grin and a twitch of an eyebrow.
With a slight tug from his fingers, my underwear slid down until gravity took over and they pooled at my feet. The cool air hugged every inch of me, filling me with anticipation.
Intensity grew behind Nathan’s eyes, and he laid me down on the bed. My entire body flushed as he removed his pants and boxer briefs. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to be the one person in the world who was allowed to send Nathan’s sanity careening off a precipice. He moved his body over mine. His
long black hair draped onto me, and an urge overtook all my thoughts as we kissed: I didn’t want his skin next to mine—I wanted to blur our boundaries. Despite the nerves rattling my senses, I needed him in a way I had never needed anyone before.
He pulled a silver condom wrapper from the pocket of his pants. I stared at the small bumps in my ceiling. Every inch of my skin prickled with each movement of air around me. Naked and exposed. Enthralled and nervous. Alive.
He tore open the condom wrapper. I didn’t know if I should watch or if I should help. I didn’t know what the hell to do. But before I could decipher the correct condom-moment etiquette, it was on. His nose and lips brushed mine. His hot breath pulsed against my skin.
The sounds of our breathing coalesced. All thoughts and emotions of the past weeks manifested in the air around us. A symphony.
****
Nathan remained still for a long moment, his lips lingering along my collar bone before finally relaxing his body, resting his head on my chest. I caressed his upper back and shoulders, damp with sweat.
My heart was beating hard, and I wondered if he heard it too. My eyes tried to capture the moment and commit it to memory—the white ceiling, the moonlit purple wall, the feel of the soft mattress pressing against my back, and the feel, sight, and scent of Nathan’s body pressing down on mine.
We were wrapped around one another, skin and minds shrouded by our own exhilarating, amorous reality, shielded from the outside world. I didn’t care how many minutes ticked away on the clock. I didn’t care about my knee. I didn’t care about Rollins or Alex. All I needed in the world in that moment was the immediate space around me. Nothing else mattered.
“Nathan?” I whispered.
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
****
I rolled my body directly over her. My lips brushed softly against hers and time stood still. There was no noise. There was no other place. There was no other girl. There was no other moment than that moment.
“I love you, too.”
