Unveiling Ghosts (Unveiling Series, Book 3)

by Jeannine Allison

Sherry nodded, her arms now wrapped around her stomach. “He made similar implications about you…” She trailed off, sniffling. “So I understand why you thought you had to leave.” The words should have brought relief, but I couldn’t relax.

  “But how could you not tell me?” Her voice couldn’t hide her heartbreak. “We should have talked about it. The decision wasn’t only yours to make.”

  “I had to—”

  “You had to?” she hiccupped. She stopped and held out her hands. “Do you have any idea the pain you put me through?” Stalking forward, she raised her hands, giving me enough time to deduce her intention, to stop her. I didn’t. I let her palms connect with my chest as she shoved me backward. There wasn’t a lot of force behind it, but my heel caught on a piece of uneven concrete, causing me to fall on my ass.

  When I looked up, her mouth was parted in shock. The only other time she’d hit me was when we were fifteen and I first showed her this roof. And just like then, it killed me that she thought I could ever compare anything she did to my father. That wasn’t even close to the truth.

  Her mouth opened further and I knew what was coming: an apology. And like hell would she be apologizing to me right now. I scrambled up and toward her before reaching out, my hands gently grabbing her cheeks and hauling her forward. My mouth was only a couple inches from her lips. Her eyes were wide and I felt the wobble of her legs.

  Instinctively my gaze was drawn to her mouth. I remembered how soft those lips were… I knew what they tasted like, through tears and joy… I knew every inch of her beautiful mouth.

  Don’t kiss her.

  Don’t kiss her.

  Don’t kiss her.

  You don’t have that right anymore.

  I didn’t know where she had been looking, but our eyes connected at the same time. “I’m sorry.” It was pathetic. People always talked about words being cheap, and maybe those two were the cheapest of all, but God, they were true.

  Regretfully, I let go when she pulled away from me.

  “You told me you wouldn’t leave me… you promised me.”

  Then she broke down, her knees making a jarring contact with the ground. The love of my life was sobbing at my feet, and it was all my fault. Some of my dad’s final words to me ran through my mind unbidden.

  You’ll hurt her.

  You’ll make her cry.

  You’ll ruin her.

  We were born to destroy people. That’s all we’re good for.

  My voice was soft as I knelt beside her, my hand hovering over her back, trying to decide what would be best for her.

  “Sherry, I thought I was doing the right thing for you.” A few minutes passed as she got her tears under control.

  “Like I said, that wasn’t your call to make.” She looked so broken, almost like she had that night. How could four years go by and she look the same? Why hadn’t she moved on? I couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if I had told her, if I’d stayed. Maybe she would be happy right now. Or maybe I would have destroyed her just like my dad said.

  Sherry stood up, and I followed. Her heartbroken eyes met mine; there was no more running for her.

  “I loved you. I was waiting for you. If you respected me at all, you’d have let me have that choice. But you didn’t. So what really happened?”

  “Sherry—”

  “I deserve to know. My parents were dead and my boyfriend—”

  “Was the reason,” I cut her off. Sherry stepped back, not out of reach but enough to show her surprise.

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said, as the little anger she had retreated. “You’re not responsible—”

  But those words triggered my anger. “Jesus Christ, Sherry. Of course I am. How the fuck can you say I’m not?” I roared. And to my shame, she flinched. I was right back to that place, convinced all I would do was hurt her. “You lost everything because of me,” I finished quietly, begging her to understand.

  She was silent for a moment before she nodded and stepped forward again. “Yes, I did.”

  Wow, that fucking hurt.

  Even though I wanted her to see my side, her actually confirming it out loud was a punch to the gut I wasn’t ready for.

  “Losing my parents was bad. Horrible.” She shook her head. “But to lose you, too? The only person I had left? That wasn’t fair. I’m not saying you being there would’ve taken away the pain and grief of losing them—it wouldn’t have. But losing you too? That… that wasn’t fair.”

  I swallowed roughly, finally figuring out why I’d felt so unsettled yesterday.

  Last night when she went to the bathroom and I was waiting for her to return, I wasn’t one hundred percent relieved when she made it back. My chest still ached, my leg continued to bounce, and my hands persisted in twitching. It made no sense then—she was right there. I finally had her back; I should have felt relaxed. But I hadn’t.

  And now I knew why.

  As tonight proved, I didn’t really have her back.

  Trust had been broken. Lives were altered.

  There was no quick fix. But I wanted this. I hadn’t felt this way since her fourteenth birthday when I kissed her for the very first time.

  “I need time to think,” she whispered to the concrete.

  Swallowing roughly, I said, “Okay.” What else could I do at this point?

  I watched Sherry walk to the side of the roof, throw her leg over and take a step down. At the last second she looked up. Her tearstained face was still the most gorgeous sight I’d ever seen. Bright green eyes, somehow made more beautiful by her tears, traveled over my face like she was looking at me for the last time. Or maybe the first, like she didn’t know who I was. Neither feeling was good. I didn’t want her to leave—it felt permanent. And if her lingering was any indication, she felt the same way.

  “Goodbye, Hunter.”

  She was long gone when I finally muttered my own goodbye. This had been the one place that was untainted and I’d just wrecked that.

  We’d been out for less than an hour, and I’d managed to chase her away.

  When I was really little, there were times I thought my father might actually kill me. Days when he would hit me so hard I didn’t know how he’d ever inflict more pain than that.

  But standing here, alone, watching Sherry walk away from me, my heart felt more fear and pain than I even knew was possible. There was a good chance she would be leaving here without me. She’d go back to her boyfriend that she looked so happy with and live the life she deserved. But it felt wrong. Because somehow, even after all this time, she still felt like mine.

  I loved her, and it didn’t seem to matter if she still belonged to me or not.

  And as I sat down on the roof and put my head in my hands, I thought how tragic it was, that just because she was mine didn’t necessarily mean I was meant to keep her.

  I blindly made my way back to the hotel. When I passed the park, there was a birthday party going on. I heard kids giggling and saw balloons being set free in the sky. It should have been a beautiful day. But just as it had for the last four years, a perpetual rain cloud hung above my head that I could never shake. And maybe this was why.

  I never knew.

  Losing him sucked, it was horrible, but it was nothing compared to the not knowing. Because I didn’t just lose him once. I lost him countless times. Every morning, I’d wake up and lose him all over again. Every night I wondered where he was and if I’d ever get to see him again.

  I could never move forward because I was still in love with a ghost, and that meant I was constantly living in the past. It sucked me back and eventually I made a kind of home there, thinking one day I’d get all I lost back.

  I spent the rest of the day wallowing, and before I knew it, I turned my head and saw darkness peeking out from between the curtains. I slept on and off, but not enough to get any rest, and now I was facing the prospect of being wide awake at eleven o’clock at night.

  Needing to get out of my head an
d see a fresh perspective, I grabbed my phone and punched in the numbers I knew so well.

  “Sherry?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is everything okay?” I imagined him immediately sitting up tall, always ready to be there for those he loved.

  “I don’t know,” I said quietly.

  “Have you seen Hunter again?”

  “Yeah. He’s…”

  Well, truthfully, I still didn’t know.

  “I don’t know what to do. Derek… he said his father threatened me. And knowing his father, I completely understand his fear. But how could he just leave without talking to me?” My heart hurt. I knew this wasn’t a simple decision. There were many factors and nothing about this was easy for Hunter. But damn… it still hurt like a bitch.

  When a heart broke, just like a glass plate, it didn’t really matter the cause or the good intentions behind it. You were still staring at the shattered remains, and whether it slipped out of your hands or you threw it at a wall, the damage was the same. And repairing it was equally impossible. The cracks would always be there, and you weren’t always stronger for them. There was no light shining in. Sometimes they were just cracks. Just broken pieces reminding us of our pain.

  It hurt. God, did it hurt. But that had to mean something, right?

  The greater the pain, the stronger the love?

  My best friend didn’t say a word, leaving me to my complicated thoughts.

  “Hunter considered my parents his family. I know he had been hurting just as much as me, especially since he had the added pain of his involvement in it all, but what about me? Is it selfish to ask that? He left because of his father, but his reason for not telling me about it was his pain and fear. I wouldn’t have left him to deal with his pain on his own, even though I had my own. How could he?”

  “I hear ya. And if I were there I’d slug him in the stomach myself. But then I’d probably offer to buy him a beer and, I’d deny this next part if asked, but I’d talk to him about ways to get you back.” I laughed. It was small, but God it felt good to laugh. “We all do shitty things, Sherry. And I’m not saying to run over there, open your arms, and take responsibility for what he did. We’re not talking about you being okay with everything right now. The only question you have to ask yourself is, do you want to? Do you want him to prove you wrong? Do you want Hunter to show you how much you mean to him, despite the mistake he made?”

  “I want to,” I whispered.

  “Okay, good. That’s all that matters right now. Rome wasn’t built in a day and all that…”

  I let out the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding, and I felt the stress of the entire day drain out of me. That was Derek’s power. “Thanks, Derek. I don’t know how I would have survived these past few years without you.”

  “You would have been fine. You’re a survivor. You survived more than most could ever even dream about.”

  We were both silent as we let the last few minutes sink in, until Derek asked, “You’re okay, right?”

  “Yeah.” I started drawing figure eights on the comforter.

  “For what it’s worth, I think it’s the right call. I know I’ve never met him, but I have to believe he loves you. Because I can’t imagine you loving him this much and him not feeling the same in return.”

  We talked for a few more minutes, him catching me up on Alara and Naomi, and staying clear of any mention of Sam, before we hung up.

  Exhausted, I trudged toward the tiny hotel bathroom, turning on the shower and stripping out of my clothes. The throbbing in my head was still there, but after my talk with Derek I felt calmer than I had all day.

  I’d just pulled the shower curtain back when I heard a knocking on my hotel door. Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around myself, I walked into the bedroom and glanced at the clock to confirm it was almost midnight. The fist pounded louder.

  “It’s Hunter,” he called from the other side. My eyes briefly closed in relief.

  “Coming.” I quickly walked toward the door. “You know when I said I wanted time, I meant longer than a day,” I joked as I opened it. I tried to make it light, but I really wasn’t sure why he was here. I felt better after talking to Derek, but I was far from being okay.

  Hunter didn’t answer, and when I looked toward his face, I saw why. He was completely zoned out, staring at my bare calves with unveiled interest. I’d completely forgotten I was only in a tiny white towel. And despite everything, I still felt that coil of tension in my stomach. No one had looked at me the way Hunter had.

  “Hunter.” I saw him swallow as he slowly pulled his eyes away from my legs.

  “Right. Sorry.” He cleared his throat and when his eyes met mine they were steady and sure. “I know you need time, that’s fine. But I need you to know something. I left because I thought it was best for you. And even though you don’t know everything, you were right today: it wasn’t solely my decision to make. If I had to do it over, I would have trusted you and told you everything.” He held up a hand when I tried to say something. “I can’t pretend it was all selfless, because a big part of me was scared, is still scared, that you’ll see things the way I did. I left you because I wanted to protect you, but my silence was about protecting me.” Hunter swallowed and I watched his hands twitch, finally looking nervous.

  “It was cowardly and wrong. In the end there is no excuse good enough to justify it.” He paused, looking tortured. “It will kill me, but I’ll understand if you want nothing to do with me. But I’ll only let you go once you know everything. I won’t be a coward this time. You can ask me any question and I’ll answer it truthfully.” He licked his lips and looked down at his shoes before taking one step backward. It was then that I noticed a bag was on the ground. I watched him reach into it and pull out a large bundle of Polaroids, held together by a rubber band.

  “I want to show you something,” he said as he reverently ran his fingers over the top photo. Hunter handed them over before tipping his head up to look at the clear, black sky.

  My heart got stuck in my throat when I looked down and saw the first picture. Carefully adjusting my towel, I removed the rubber band and traced the edges of the Polaroid after I’d set the rest on the table just inside my hotel doorway. Staring back at me was the night sky. It was a clear picture, with no other landscape in it. Just a black, endless night, sprinkled with stars.

  I picked the others up and slowly shuffled through the rest, all at night with varying degrees of weather. “You took all these?” I asked.

  “Every night.” He kept his eyes up, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. He did this for me, because some part of him hoped he’d see me again. Shrugging, he continued, “I couldn’t always get to a roof and some of them are actually on my phone”—he pulled out his iPhone—“because I’d get home, exhausted, and crash on my bed before realizing I hadn’t taken one. I’d just hold it to the window and snap. Those are the really shitty non-Polaroid ones.”

  “Hunter,” I whispered, unable to keep the affection out of my voice. “That’s a crap ton of pictures.”

  He shrugged again, like this wasn’t a big deal. But it was huge. Because up until that moment, a small part of me was worried he hadn’t thought of me nearly as much as I’d thought of him. This was proof he had. At least once a day, he thought of me, he wished I was with him, and he hoped he’d see me again.

  I carefully put the photos on the table before shuffling toward him and wrapping one arm around him. It was awkward. I was still clutching the towel with one hand and I cringed as soon as my feet touched the dirty concrete outside, but Hunter’s arms felt like they always had: home.

  He returned the embrace and I felt his nose press into my hair.

  “Did you… did you sniff me?” I asked with a laugh while I pulled away. He was smiling, and it was sad and happy all at once.

  “Yeah. I missed it. No other minty product has smelled the same,” he murmured as he fingered a lock of my hair.

  “P
lease never doubt how I feel about you. I saw that you did earlier.” He winced, like the thought physically pained him. “I’ll always want you. And I may make poor decisions at times, but I don’t make the same mistake twice. I won’t make this one again. I’ll talk to you about everything. What I had for lunch. The stupid joke a coworker made. How many red lights I got stuck at on the way home to you. Everything.” His eyes burned down into mine, and I felt the truth in his words.

  Only when he reached up and wiped a tear from my cheek did I realize I was crying again. I tried to look down, but he wouldn’t let me. Hunter lightly gripped my chin, and when our eyes locked, so many thoughts and feelings floated between us. And just like that, the last four years disappeared. All the pain, sadness, loneliness… it was all erased.

  He nodded, satisfied with what he saw in my gaze. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m in room 112,” he whispered. I followed his finger as he pointed down the hall. Hunter stared at me expectantly until I nodded, and only then did he step away.

  I waited for him to walk away, but he remained there. My brows furrowed, and he gave me a small smile in response.

  “Sherry, I’m not leaving you standing outside in nothing but the world’s shortest towel.” The words were soft and laced with affection. “My feet will only start moving when I hear that lock click and deadbolt slide into place.”

  “Okay.” I returned his grin before stepping across the threshold. Then I stared at his smiling face as I shut the door. After I locked it, I dropped my head forward, not even caring about the harsh impact. A little physical pain paled in comparison to all the other feelings currently tearing through me.

  “Sherry,” Hunter whispered through the door before lightly tapping. I shrieked and jumped back, listening to his chuckle through the wood.

  “Yeah?” I asked, the word sounding a bit strangled.

  There was another light tap before he said, “Deadbolt, babe.”

  I took care of the deadbolt and listened to him walk away. He was still softly laughing, while I was struggling to catch my breath, along with my scattered thoughts.

  My movements were robotic as I walked to the bathroom, got in the still-running shower, and tried to scrub away the shitty parts of the day. I paused when I reached for my conditioner. I’d been using the same one for as long as I could remember. The smell of mint always relaxed me.