I let out a laugh at his ridiculousness before continuing.
Anyway, Mom would kill me if she knew I sent this to you, so you have to promise not to tell her. She thinks it's too hard for you but I think she doesn't give you enough credit. Kyle's mom came by the house the other day. Apparently they are just now cleaning out his old bedroom and she found something that Kyle bought for you. She thought you might like to have it. I hope you don't mind that I sent it to you. I feel like it should be your choice if you want it or not. Hope everything is good with you.
Love you lots, little sis!
Ian
My hands are shaking by the time I reach inside the box. I have no idea what it could be, which makes me that much more anxious to find out. I pull out some packing materials and throw them on the counter before I catch sight of a small, white jewelry box sitting on the bottom. Tears prick the back of my eyes as I pull it out and slowly open it.
Inside is a beautiful silver chain with a compass charm. I gently pull the chain from the box and lay it in my hand, no longer able to contain the tears now flowing down my cheeks.
I run my fingers across the compass, knowing exactly the reason he bought it for me. I was so worried about him leaving for college, about us being apart. Though I tried to put on a brave face for him, he knew it was something I was struggling with. The time, the distance between us.
Flipping the charm over, I immediately catch sight of an engraved message. I lift it closer to my face and blink away the tears clouding my vision. In a perfect cursive inscription around the outer edge the message reads:
No matter the journey or the destination, my heart will always be with you
GM&KP Forever
Chapter Six
OVER A WEEK HAS PASSED since I received the necklace that Kyle bought for me all those years ago. While it’s a painful reminder of what I lost, it's also a reminder of what I had. Of the boy I loved and the life we shared together, no matter how short.
I found my phone that same night at Vitos and while Zayne has called, I haven’t been able to bring myself to answer. As much as I want to see him, suddenly everything about our relationship, for lack of a better word, seems like a betrayal not only to Alec, but to Kyle as well.
Now, as I sit on my bed staring out of my window at the night sky, or what little I can see of it, I can't help but feel like everything is coming back tenfold. The pain has burrowed its way deep inside my chest making it difficult to do something as natural as breathe.
I know there is only one place I want to go but I also know that it’s the one place I need to avoid. I can't turn to Zayne. Not only do we not know each other well enough, but I'm sure the last thing he wants is some hysterical woman showing up at his doorstep in the middle of the night.
Five years. Since it's after midnight, it has officially been five years that Kyle has been gone. Five years of walking through life with nothing but emptiness and guilt. Five years of wishing every day that he was still here with me. And over the course of those five years, I have started to forget and that scares me more than anything.
I forget the way he smelled. The way he laughed. I forget how it felt when he would hold my hand. I think that's the worst part about time. The more time that passes, the more the memories fade. But I don't want the memories to fade. I don't want to let him go. I don't want him to be another dead person that no one will remember in fifty years. He deserves more than that. He deserves to be remembered.
I was seventeen when it happened and while back then, I swore we would be together forever, the truth of the matter is, I have no idea where we would be today if he were alive. Maybe we would still be together, maybe we wouldn't. But knowing we’ll never get that choice is not fair.
Deciding I can't sit here any longer, I pull on a pair of jeans and a black tank before grabbing my keys off of my dresser. I have no idea if Zayne is awake or even at home for that matter, but I don't care. If I sit in this apartment any longer, I'm going to drive myself insane and I have come too far to let this consume me. I have made so much progress over the last few weeks and I have to find a way to push through this. Zayne will be just the distraction I need.
Leaving a quick note on the counter for Emma, telling her I went to Becca's, I quickly exit the apartment and head toward my car. I don't know the exact way to his apartment but since I know his building I can figure directions out via GPS.
I roll my window down and turn on the radio before pulling out onto the quiet street. “Imperfect” by Stone Sour blares through the speakers of my car and I try my best to focus on the music and the breeze blowing through my hair.
I reach up and twirl the compass now hanging around my neck. I put it on the night I received it and have not taken it off since. Honestly, I may never take it off. Kyle bought it for me, one of the last things he probably did before he died. I feel like it deserves to see the world. Like wearing it gives me a piece of Kyle to carry around with me.
I arrive at Zayne's within ten minutes, thankful that night traffic in New York is nothing like day traffic. The kind where you sit in a long line of cars for hours on end, wondering why the hell no one is moving.
Luckily, I made a point to look at Zayne's apartment number as we were leaving the last time I was here, so I know exactly where to go once inside. But once I get there I can't bring myself to knock on the door. For one, I haven't spoken to him in a little over a week. Two, I have been crying for the last two hours and my swollen eyes and flushed cheeks are not the most attractive thing in the world. And three, the last thing he probably wants right now is for his best friend’s over emotional little sister, that he happens to have screwed a couple of times, showing up at his house in the middle of the night having an emotional breakdown.
I end up sitting against the wall next to his door, pulling my knees to my chest. The current level of my patheticness only makes me cry harder. I drop my head against my knees, feeling like I have hit the lowest of lows. Only I haven't, not even close. I have been at my lowest before and that is a place I never want to visit again.
I don't know how long I sit there like that, my eyes closed, back pressed against the wall, but a muffled voice eventually pulls me from my haze and I look up to see Zayne hovering over me. He's dressed in a suit and appears to be just getting home. Guess it's a good thing I didn't knock. Him not answering the door would have been worse.
“Grace. What the hell? Are you hurt?” Zayne drops down in front of me and lifts my face to meet his. I shake my head no and reach my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. I nuzzle my face into his neck and breathe in deeply, not realizing until now how much I’ve missed him.
“Grace, you have to talk to me. What's going on?” Zayne pulls back, once again studying my face.
“I'm sorry,” I say, finally finding my voice. “I'm sorry to just show up like this. I just needed... I don't know. I needed to not be alone.”
“Come on.” He straightens, pulling me up with him.
He puts an arm around my shoulder and holds me securely to his side while he unlocks the door and ushers us into his apartment. After leading me to the couch, he disappears into the kitchen, reappearing seconds later with two rocks glasses filled with ice and an amber liquid.
He hands me the glass before taking a seat next to me on the couch. I lean forward, my elbows on my knees and take a long drink, emptying the contents in a single gulp. It burns like fire, but it feels good. The physical discomfort I can tolerate.
“Here.” He reaches in front of me to take my empty glass and swap it out with his still full one.
“Thank you,” I get out hoarsely before taking another drink, this one much smaller. “I'm so sorry to show up like this. I'm usually okay. I have gotten through this every year on my own but then the necklace came and I don't know. It all feels new again. It feels like it just happened and for the life of me I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make this feeling go away,” I say, rocking slightly on the couch, tears
spilling down my cheeks.
“Hey, it's okay. I'm right here.” He stills my movements by draping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me to his chest. Just being close to him makes me feel a little better and I curl my body into him, needing to be as close to him as possible.
He takes the drink from my hand and places it on the end table before wrapping both of his arms around me. He doesn't say anything or ask anything of me, he just holds me, somehow understanding exactly what I need without me having to ask. I just need someone to exist with me.
After several minutes of silence and once my tears have finally subsided for the most part, I pull back to look at him. I can't explain it, but I swear the hurt I feel right now, I can see reflected in the blue eyes staring back at me, as if he somehow understands my pain.
“Thank you,” I say, adjusting myself on the couch so that my side is leaning into the back cushion, giving me the ability to face him. “Did Alec ever tell you what happened the year you came home with him for Thanksgiving? What was wrong with me or why I did not speak to one single person the entire time you were there?”
“No.” He reaches out and takes my hand, his thumb working slow circles across the back of it. “I asked him. I could tell something was off. But he said you had been through hell and it wasn't his story to tell.”
My love for my oldest brother grows significantly upon hearing this. Always my protector.
“In June of that year, I went to a graduation party at The Gulch with my boyfriend, Kyle, and some of his other friends that had just graduated. I was finishing my junior year and dreading a year where I would be stuck in Colorado while Kyle would be at WSU. Anyway, The Gulch is pretty much this place where people hang out. There's a couple spots where you can cliff dive from. I promised Kyle we would jump the hundred foot cliff together but chickened out once we got up there. Kyle being Kyle picked me up and launched us both over the cliff together. It felt like it took me forever to reach the surface after hitting the water and when I finally did, I was ready to give Kyle Parker a piece of my mind.” I pause, trying to keep the quiver from my voice. I have never actually told this story to anyone. Well other than the police and the paramedics but that was different. “But then I couldn't find him. I remember frantically searching the surface of the water, waiting for him to pop up and scare me, only he never did. I heard someone screaming and remember looking to the shore. Someone was pulling Kyle's body out of the water. All I could see was red. Blood. It was everywhere. The rest is kind of a blur. I think I went into shock at some point. When I came to in the hospital several hours later, I learned that Kyle had died. He didn't jump out far enough and hit the rocks against the edge.” I take a deep breath and wipe the fresh tears from my cheeks before continuing, “I remember thinking that there was no way that I could live without him. I wanted to die the moment I found out he was gone. And then came the guilt. If I had just jumped instead of chickening out, Kyle would have been able to launch himself further and therefore he would have missed the rocks. But instead he died. Just like that, he was gone. I think a part of me died that day with him. Once I was released from the hospital, I picked up the phone to call him like I couldn't wait to tell him what had happened, only I realized that I couldn't. I shut down after that. There was only one person I wanted to talk to and he was gone forever.” A light sob escapes my throat.
“You don't have to do this, Grace. You don't have to tell me anything.” Zayne squeezes my hand gently.
“I need to tell you. I need someone to understand. No one sees it. But you do. You see me and I need you to hear this. I need to say it.” I push back the emotion welling in my throat. He nods so I continue. It's like now that I’ve opened the gates, there's no closing them and I keep talking. I don't care what he thinks of me in this moment. It feels good to finally say all of this out loud. “I tried to kill myself after that. I swallowed a whole bottle of pain killers. I wanted it to be over. But my mom found me in time and I ended up in therapy and on antidepressants for a good year before I learned to suck it up and deal with the pain on my own. I was sick of being looked at with pity and sadness. I didn't want pity. I wanted Kyle and since that was never going to happen, I learned to get by, in my own way. But then this came last week.” I hold up the necklace in my hand. “Kyle's mom found it. He bought it for me right before he died. He planned to give it to me before he left for college so I wouldn't worry while he was gone.” I flip the charm over and point at the inscription.
Zayne silently reads it before his eyes meet mine. “This is why you haven't returned my calls?” A look of understanding fills his eyes.
“I'm sorry. I don't know if it's normal to still feel like I belong to someone who has been dead for five years but a part of me does. I feel like moving on means leaving his memory behind and I don't want to leave him behind.”
“Don't ever apologize for this, Grace. You lost someone very close to you and that type of loss, well, it stays with you. Forever, I think. Moving on doesn't mean leaving that person behind. He will always be with you. It doesn't matter to him what life you choose for yourself so long as you choose to live it. Live the life he didn't have the chance to live. Live it for you and for him.”
Suddenly everything becomes crystal clear. The reason why I have avoided relationships like the plague for the last five years. It's not because I have some deep seated guilt of moving on, it's from the fear of history repeating itself. What if I open myself up to the possibility of loving someone only to lose them too?
My gaze meets Zayne's and the fluttering in my heart confirms what I already know to be true. It's too late. I’m already falling. And I know without a doubt that when this ends, not if but when, it's going to be very, very bad.
I WAKE THE NEXT MORNING in an empty bed. I hear music and I gingerly climb out of bed and follow the sound. It takes me a moment to figure out that it's coming from the study. I knock lightly on the door but I don't hear anything and being unsure if he can hear me over the music, I push my way through the door.
Zayne immediately looks up from behind the large desk and smiles sadly at me. Great. Now I have to worry about him pitying me too. Awesome. Exactly what I wanted to avoid. Taking a few steps inside, I make my way around the side of the desk and sit on the edge.
“How are you feeling this morning?” He takes my hand from my lap and rubs the back of it. It's such a small act but it says so much more to me than he probably realizes. The way he's trying to comfort me with a touch, the look in his eyes, it's impossible not to see that at least in some small way, Zayne cares for me. Of course, that could also be because of Alec. Maybe he feels obligated to make sure I'm okay because of his friendship with my brother.
“I'm good.” I pull my hand away to tuck my hair behind my ear. “I'm sorry about last night. I can't imagine how... Um... that must have been for you.” I feel my cheeks flush slightly.
“I'm glad you came to me, Grace. I'm glad I could be here for you.”
I close my eyes for a brief moment. When I reopen them, I find Zayne watching me. Unable to resist, I lean forward, gently pressing my lips to his. Like every other kiss we’ve shared, my insides light up immediately and desire outweighs all other thoughts and feelings.
Needing to feel the connection between us, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and kiss him more fiercely, my need evident in the desperation of the way my lips move against his. Zayne stands, placing both of his hands on either side of my face and returns my kiss full force. Sliding his body between my legs, I immediately feel his arousal through his black lounge pants as my tongue explores his mouth more greedily.
He grips the bottom of my tank and gently pulls up, breaking away from my mouth just long enough to pull the material over my head. I immediately go for the band of his pants but he stops me, breaking away from my lips on a ragged breath.
“Are you sure?” He breathes against my mouth.
“Yes.” My voice is thick and full of desire. “I need you.”
I slide my hand down the front of his pants and grasp his erection through the material. He lets out a low groan and begins trailing kisses down my neck. I put my arms behind me and lean back, giving him full access.
He slides his tongue down my collarbone and quickly pushes the material of my bra aside, his mouth engulfing my nipple as he begins sucking and gently biting the sensitive flesh. My entire body turns to liquid under his skilled hands. Arching into his touch, a soft moan escapes my lips as he works his way to the other breast, repeating the process until they are both erect and throbbing with desire.
When he makes it back up to my face, his eyes are hooded and his breathing is coming in short, hot spurts. He reclaims my lips as his fingers work the button and zipper of my jeans. I lift up, supporting my weight on my arms as he peels them from my body. He repeats the process with my panties before spreading me wide open for him.
Making quick work of removing his pants and boxers, he slides his hand down my torso, the other firmly grasping the back of my neck, holding me steady.
He pulls me to the edge of the desk and gently pushes my body back. I support my weight with my elbows, watching as he guides himself to my entrance. In one swift movement, he plunges inside of me. I cry out from the intense pressure, feeling overly full. I shift my body, trying to accommodate his size as he begins a slow steady rhythm pumping in and out of me.
My head falls back and I close my eyes on instinct but he leans across my body and grasps the back of my neck, pulling my face up to meet his. “Keep your eyes on me. God, you're so fucking beautiful,” he says when I comply.
I try to focus on keeping my eyes open. I instinctively want to close them as the pleasure ripping through my body starts to reach a boil but I do as he asks and keep my eyes locked on his. As his thrusts become harder, my body takes over. Gently lifting my hips, I meet him thrust for thrust.
He pulls me further up, his lips crashing down on mine as one hand tangles in my long waves, the other holding firmly onto my hip.
The Way Back Page 12
