by T K Barber
His heart crumbled apart in his chest, the pain was just too much, the cut too deep. “I hate that I see you everywhere, look for you everywhere. And.” He swallowed back tears. “I hate that no matter how hard I tried to move on or tried to—to exist without you, one second in your presence and I’m a love-sick puppy again, begging for a treat I’ll NEVER FUCKIN’ HAVE!”
The violent shout bounced off the trees in the otherwise still night air.
“Oh, Lyle.”
She cupped his other cheek too, but he pulled away, releasing her hair.
“It’s too late. It’s just . . .”
He laced his fingers behind his head and stared at her. Why did he have to love her? Why? He slid his hands down the sides of his head and buried his face in his palms. His heart slammed in his chest as he spoke through his fingers, on the brink of shattering again.
“Come with me. Mary. Just you and me. Let’s—we can join the families. We can spend the rest of our lives fixing what we’ve done. Showing each other how sorry we are.”
Part of him died. He did it again. He threw the question out, begging for her to take a chance on him. And he wouldn’t take no for an answer this time.
He dragged his hands down his face and put them on his hips. He wouldn’t be able to handle it a third time. She stepped back up to him and put her hand on his chest and he covered it with his own as hope tried to free itself from the grip of despair.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Struck dumb, he stared at her for a second, mouth agape, eyes wide.
“Seriously?” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. She nodded. Fear and rage swept over him, tearing through his veins. He reached out and grabbed her arms.
“Do not lie to me, Marianna! Do you really intend to leave everything you’ve spent our whole lives masterfully curating? Just to be with me?!”
He was frantic. Shaking. He couldn’t help it. So close. Her eyes fell to his throat as he swallowed, and his gaze darted around her face, his brow creased.
She moved her arms out of his hands and wrapped them around his waist. He sucked in a deep breath and held it. She’d say no again.
“Kiss me, Lyle.”
He growled and gripped her hair again, craning her neck back. “Say it.”
She spoke as tears fell from her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I’ll go with you.”
He snarled and released her hair to clutch her face. One blink and he crushed his mouth on hers with a hunger that had been building for longer than either cared to admit. She was finally, after all this time . . .
She whimpered and threw her arms around his neck holding him tight. The world stopped for a brief moment and it was just the two of them.
He relaxed his grip and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. Hundreds upon hundreds of hours of pain and loneliness drained from him with each shared breath.
Was it real? Would he wake up tomorrow and find her miles away again? Find her in the arms of someone else? He squeezed his eyes shut and shoved the thoughts away.
Just for tonight. Just one more time. He’d pretend she really did love him.
In one move, Lyle slid his leg between hers and spun her around, shoving her against the side of the house as his hands eased down her sides.
She let out a sharp gasp that set him on fire. He was done playing it safe with her. What had that gotten him? Nothing. Decades of nothing. And besides, he was different.
He pulled back just enough to work his other hand between them, and under her shirt. He barely touched her skin as he ghosted upward, more afraid of how he’d react than her. He’d waited so long. She squirmed under his grip, knocking the wind out of him. He pressed his hand on her ribs and the sensation of that unreasonably soft skin almost hurt.
“Inside,” she breathed.
Lyle’s brain snapped to focus, and he cut his eyes to the door, then back to her. He nodded and grabbed her hand, tugging her inside. As soon as the latch clicked, he was on her again.
She tasted like memories. Hard, vicious, painful, beautiful memories.
He pulled away from her kiss and stroked a hand down her face, then down her neck. He held her gaze as he covered her throat.
He’d never hurt her, but he wouldn’t have to. The fact it was there was power enough.
And power was everything to people like them.
Her mouth fell open and her eyes fluttered. He could sense the war between her body and mind. Between complete surrender and defiance, and it was all he could do to keep upright.
Still, he leaned his entire weight into her, trapping her on the wall. He brushed his cheek against hers, then tongued her ear lobe.
“Tell me what you want, Mary.”
She shuddered, the motion felt all over his body. He moved his thumb along her jaw line, bracing his left arm on the wall beside her head, and pulled his face back, catching her now hardened gaze.
“Justice.”
What—
His eyes widened. Pain. Deep, pinching, blooming pain. He dropped a shocked glance down at her hand. Holding a knife handle. The blade digging up under his ribs.
“Revenge.”
He shot her a wild look as his mouth gaped. Tears dripped down her beautiful face. Fucking tears.
She shoved forward with her weight, driving the knife further up. More pain exploded inside his body, his lungs wouldn’t pull air in. But even as death closed in, he filled with a twisted pride. He’d always known she’d do what was necessary, no matter what.
“Closure.” She choked the word out through clenched teeth.
“Forgiveness.” A thick sob. “I’m so sorry.” She twisted the knife, her sweet voice strangled and high. “For everything.”
She pulled her hand away and covered her mouth with it, rivers flowing over her cheeks. His knees buckled and he dropped down on the hardwood. Darkness crept in.
I’m sorry too, Mary. I’m sorry Thomas. Nataly . . . Jaime. I love you.
“I never stopped,” she stuttered a breath. “Loving y—”
“Desk,” he rasped, eyes closing their final time. “Cen . . . ter.”
***
“Let’s make a promise, Mary.”
“What about?”
“Promise you’ll marry me. Right after graduation. Promise we’ll be together ‘til the stars quit shinin’.”
“That’s a stupid promise. That’s like making a promise you’re gonna eat every day. It’s just a fact.”
He smiled and kissed her again and again until she fell backwards, laughing. Bracing on his hands, he gazed down at her as she raked her nails through his hair.
“Yeah okay. But say it anyway. I wanna hear ya say it.”
“Fine, you love-sick puppy.” She winked. “I promise.”
His face split into a massive grin. “Puppy!? Please. I’m a wolf, baby.”
He leaned his head back and howled loud enough for the whole world to hear. She burst out laughing and ruffled his hair, gazing up at him with all the love she had to give. He barked twice and dropped down on top of her, growling as he nuzzled her neck.
She’d never love anyone like this. Not like her sweet, sweet Valentine. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squealed in laughter.
A warm breeze laced with plans rustled the cool grass, brushing against their faces as they lay wrapped in each other’s arms.
“Forever, yeah?”
She smiled. “Yeah. Forever.”
Thomas
He almost couldn’t look anywhere else. Didn’t want to. Anna’s fingers threaded with his not only felt like heaven, they also looked awesome. Forever wouldn’t be long enough to love her.
She pulled on his hand and he resisted, supporting her again. “Careful. There ain’t a rush, ya know.”
“The mountains.”
He shot her a look. “What?”
A call went out over the loudspeaker as her gorgeous face turned toward him. “That’s where
we should go.”
“Ha! Why? You wanna live off-grid or somethin’? Hunt and all that shit?”
She laughed and bumped into him, refocusing on the floor in front of her. “No, you nut. I mean on vacation.”
“Huh.” He glanced back down the hall, a grin plastered to his face. “Well, whatever ya want, gorgeous. Gotta tell ya, though. I was looking’ forward to seein’ your kick-ass body in a tight little bikini. Laid out on a real beach? Mm mm.” He arched a brow and glanced sideways just in time to catch her blush. He cleared his throat. Cool it. A hospital wasn’t exactly the spot for that line of thought.
“You’ve already, you know. Seen all of it. What’s so special about a bikini? Besides, how do you know I even own one?”
He laughed and held her hand tighter. “You own one. Ain’t no way you wouldn’t. And I’m betting it’s pink.”
She tugged him to a stop and caught his gaze, chewing on her lip. A nurse bustled past, leaving a swirl of patchouli, irritating his nose. He wrinkled it as Anna’s eyes searched his, and she gave him a smaller version of her beautiful smile. “We’re gonna be okay. We’ll help each other. No matter what.”
He nodded. “Hell yeah, we will.” His stomach chose that moment to yell at him and he slapped a hand over it lifting his brows. “But if we don’t eat soon, I’m gonna help myself to a bite of your arm. Neck. Thigh. Something’.”
Her warm laugh muffled when she pulled him down for a kiss. Which he enjoyed a bit more than he probably should have, given the location, right up until his eye caught motion from two doors ahead of them.
The walls closed in. His vision narrowed to a pinpoint, laser-focused on the sling draped around Paulie’s neck.
“No,” he whispered against her mouth and took a step back from her, releasing her hand with a sharp shake.
He covered his mouth as the last remnant of fog in his brain burned away in a white-hot blast.
He did that.
“Tommy, wha—” She followed his line of sight and sucked in a short breath. “Oh gosh, do you know them?”
Know them? He loved them. And he tried to kill them.
Wave after wave of disgust, fear, and nausea crashed into him and he swayed. Anna reached out to steady him, her brow creased.
They would hate him at best, be terrified at the worst. Becca came out behind her son, bandages on her arms and hands, typing away on her phone. Thomas wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
He couldn’t face them. He tried to take another step back, but Anna wouldn’t let him. Another tidal wave threatened to drown him, and he stared at her, eyes wide.
What would she think about him? Oh God. She’d hate him. Hell, he hated himself. His stomach churned, not from hunger this time.
“Thomas! What’s wrong?”
Too loud! His chest froze mid breath, and his heart tripped. That was too loud! They’d—
Paulie’s face turned toward the sound, Mrs. Becca’s right behind it.
The wide smile that formed on the kid’s face was the worst thing in the world. It was a scalding poker straight in the gut.
But Mrs. Becca—he winced. She didn’t smile. Was that better or worse? Why the hell wouldn’t his legs work? She froze and threw a quick glance at Anna, then cut her gaze back to Thomas. His eyes burned.
“Thomas are you . . .” Becca called, swallowing. “You?”
Did he want to answer that? Maybe if they thought he wasn’t, he could—
Anna inhaled and rubbed his arm. “Yeah, he’s back. Who—”
“Oh thank God!” Mrs. Becca raced toward him and wrapped his frozen frame in a hard hug, sucking in a pained breath. “Thomas, I was so scared for you. We all were.”
Scared for him. Not of. For. She had his arms pinned to his sides which was probably the only reason he was still standing. He clenched his jaw.
Whether they were scared of him or not, her affection was the last thing he deserved.
“Mrs. B—” He cleared the lump and shifted out of her hug. He wiped his eye on his bicep and palmed his face.
“Mrs. Becca, I’m so so sorry.”
“Shh, shh. No.” She squeezed his shoulder and smiled, tears clinging to her lashes. “You don’t need to be sorry.”
“Yeah, I do! You coulda—” He covered his eyes and took a shaky breath. “Or P-squared. Paulie. I can’t—” a sob choked out and he buried his face in his hands.
“Oh, Thomas.” She pulled him into another hug, and he was too sad to resist. He rested his covered face on her shoulder as she rubbed his back, just like a mom would.
He was broken. He’d nearly ruined a perfect family, just ‘cause he wanted his sorry excuse of a father to love him. Because he believed anything that man said. And, you know, whatever he put in that damn water.
Anna’s hand landed soft on his arm and he cringed. “Thomas, what happened?”
He knew she would ask. Before he had a chance to decide what to say, Mrs. Becca piped up. “There was an accident. But everyone’s okay. It’s okay now.”
She patted his back.
He wasn’t about to let her lie for him. Or keep anything from Anna, no matter how bad it would hurt.
He straightened up and wiped his hands down his face, only to wish he hadn’t.
Paulie and that sling, right in front of him, that smile still in place. The one he didn’t deserve. “Don’t cry, bro. I’m not mad. They gave me some hella good drugs—”
“Paulie.”
“They did, mom. Anyway. Mom said you were sick. I know you wouldn’t do anything like that. We’re cool.” He gestured to Anna with his head. “Is this her?”
Anna chuckled, which was good because he was shaking too much to chat. Besides, they needed to quit changing the topic.
“If by ‘her,’ you mean the one lucky enough to be with him, then yes. I am ‘her’.” She stuck out her hand “Annalise Lange.” She cut her eyes to him. “For now.”
How could his body want to smile? How were they all talking like he hadn’t done something so horrible?
Paulie shook it with a smile, but Mrs. Becca raised her brows. “That’s interesting. I don’t know why, but your last name hadn’t come up before. Your fathers were terribly close. All through high school. They had a falling out near graduation, but,” her head tilted. “How funny.”
“Oh, neat. My brother Nick’s dad was the Lange, though. My dad was a one-night stand.”
“I see.” She smiled.
As ‘interesting’ as all that kinda was—He turned to face Anna when his voice finally made its way back home.
“It wasn’t an accident. Pop made me go shoot up their house.” Anna thrust out her bottom lip, and Mrs. Becca touched his arm.
“Thomas, you don’t hav—”
“I do, Mrs. Becca. She needs to know—” he swallowed. “—just how much of a monster I am.”
Her eyes swam as she looked up at him. He knew it. His throat burned. He knew she’d be—
“You are NOT a monster, Thomas!” Anna’s hand smoothed over his chest as she spoke. “Your father is the monster. I don’t know what’s broken in him, but all he’s ever done is try to break you too. He didn’t. He bent you for a little while, sure. But you weren’t broken. “
She tugged him back a step and curled herself against his chest, wrapping her arms tight around him. “I love you. They clearly love you. I know of at least one other person that loves you too, in her own way.”
She muttered the last part and he almost missed it. Who the hell would that be?
“He’s perfectly fine, Thomas. The doctor says it’ll heal and there wasn’t any serious damage done.”
“Dude, seriously, you gave me a kick-ass scar. Chicks dig scars.”
“Paulie!”
“Sorry, Mom. Women.” He winked at Thomas, who couldn’t help the small smile.
Anna barked a laugh and nuzzled closer, her voice muted against his chest. “He’s not w
rong about that.”
So there they all stood, in the middle of the hospital hallway, having a heart to heart about how he wasn’t a monster, and all it took was five words from Anna to make his body burn. He shook his head.
Mrs. Becca sighed. “Thomas, we forgive you. It wasn’t you. Would I lie to you?”
A frown creased his brow. “Well, no.”
“Okay then.” She smiled. “We’re headed home. Pete and Tony are waiting in the car. You guys feel free to drop by anytime, alright? Annalise, it was a pleasure to finally meet you.”
She waved, cheek still pressed to his chest, arm still around his back. “You too, thanks.”
“See ya, Tommy.” Paulie waved with his good arm and Thomas frowned again. Mad at him or not, monster or no, that was still done by his hand.
“Yeah. See ya.”
Anna hummed and squeezed him tighter, drawing him out of his mind. “So. Walking, yes? Then leaving? There’s somewhere we need to go first before we go home.”
His chest expanded for what felt like the first time today. Home. With Anna. And since Anna was home, that could literally be anywhere. And he’d go wherever that was without a second thought.
“Okay, gorgeous,” he exhaled. “Lead on.”
Marianna
Her heart fractured. Splintered.
Gone.
She slid down the wall, hands clutching her mouth as every ounce of sorrow left in her body wailed out.
Gone.
His absence weighed far more than she assumed it would. But at the same time, a burden she never realized she carried slowly lifted.
The maroon stain around the knife grew, mutating like an evil Rorschach.
That boy she loved, her very first, died the night she left him. The night she slashed her heart wide open to keep him safe. Should she have told him? She had wanted to the last time she was here.
Another cry squeaked out.
That amazing night. The night after her dad had finally died, setting her free. But Lyle had a life by then. And so did she, bad as it was. She shouldn’t have come to him, but it brought Thomas into the world, so she couldn’t regret it.
