Next to Never

by Penelope Douglas

  “You said you were going to give me everything, and you didn’t. You can’t,” I charged. “I would’ve eventually gotten away from Thomas, but you?” Tears started falling again as pain filled my chest and my gut. “You’ve made a mess of me.”

  Chapter 8

  Kat . . .

  Charging through the school, my heels dug into the floors, their clacking echoing down the hallway as I made my way to the main office. This was the fourth time this year I’d been summoned to Jared’s school either to take him home or to meet with the principal about his behavior.

  Everything was fine before last summer. Or somewhat fine. I should never have let Thomas take him. Jared had been off the rails ever since, and I knew why, but he refused to let me help, and I was at my wits’ end. Thank goodness that bastard was in jail now.

  But even so, the damage was done, and my son was different. He was more like his father than ever now.

  I barged through the heavy wooden door and entered the office, stopping and immediately scanning for Jared.

  Seeing him and another boy sitting in the chairs along the wall, I couldn’t help but lash out.

  “Bullying?” I burst out. “I’m absolutely disgusted. What were you thinking?”

  Jared stared ahead, looking bored and ignoring me.

  “It wasn’t bullying,” someone grumbled, and I looked to the kid a couple of chairs down from him. “Josh Rutgers is such a baby.”

  I’d never seen the kid before, but I gathered he and Jared were in this together.

  “Who are you?” I demanded.

  He smiled, holding out a hand. “Madoc Caruthers. You’re my brother’s mother, huh?”

  Brother’s mother. Caruthers. “What?”

  I took in the blond hair, the demanding blue eyes, the expensive shoes and brown leather jacket, the stylish roll to his jeans . . . Oh, Christ.

  “Like, how old are you?” he asked, giving me a nice, long once-over that was completely inappropriate. “Were you ten when you had Jared?”

  “Caruthers,” I repeated, ignoring his flirting as I walked over to the boys. “Is your father Jase Caruthers?”

  “Yeah. You know him?”

  “No,” I snapped and turned away, looking to Jared. “Get up.”

  He rolled his eyes and stood up, following me up to the receptionist’s counter.

  Shit. They were friends. How did I not know that?

  Mrs. Bauer, the principal’s assistant, saw us and stopped what she was doing to approach. “The principal had to leave for a meeting,” she informed me. “But Jared’s suspended for three days. He’s responsible for staying caught up on his work while he’s gone. You need to sign this.”

  She pulled out a paper and pushed it in front of me with a pen.

  I picked up the pen and started scanning the document. “What happened exactly?”

  “A guy was messing with Tatum Brandt,” Madoc answered, coming up to the counter to stand next to us. “So Jared and I sent him on his way.”

  “The boy was merely asking her to the school carnival,” Mrs. Bauer clarified. “And these two proceeded to steal his clothes while he was in the shower and hang them on Miss Brandt’s locker with a very vulgar message written on the underpants.”

  She said the last part in a horrified whisper, and I heard Madoc snort next to us, doubling over and laughing as I felt Jared smile next to me.

  I turned to him. “Why would you do that to Tate?”

  “Because he likes her,” Madoc interjected.

  “Shut. Up,” Jared growled.

  Anger filled my chest, and I swallowed it down, because I knew it was exactly what Jared wanted. What was the matter with him? He lived for confrontation these days, and our arguments were a constant occurrence. I had no idea what to do with him.

  The bottle of rum I had at home flashed in my mind, and I swallowed again, the dryness in my mouth like sand. I signed the paper quickly without even reading it.

  I didn’t care. I just wanted to get out of here.

  “Madoc,” a deep male voice called.

  I froze. No, no, no . . .

  Madoc turned around at my side. “Hey,” he replied in a casual tone. “I swear I didn’t do it.”

  The pen shook in my hand, and I could feel the heat of his eyes on my back.

  I hadn’t seen him in so long.

  “Oh, of course not,” the man responded. “It’s never your fault.”

  His voice was getting closer, and I closed my eyes for a moment, not wanting to turn around, but I knew there was no way I’d get out of here without him seeing.

  In the five years since we’d ended things, a lot had changed.

  But not enough. The anger still festered within me, time having healed nothing.

  “Nope, never,” Madoc responded. “Everyone should have a kid like me.” And then he turned back around, winking at the middle-aged receptionist across the counter.

  She scowled, tsking at him, and pushed another paper—I assumed for Jase to sign—forward. Madoc must be suspended, too.

  “Just take them home,” she instructed. “Be back on Friday.”

  I saw Jase’s black suit out of the corner of my eye as he stepped up to the counter, Madoc between us. He pulled the paper closer, as if reading it, but then I felt his eyes fall on me.

  Damn it. I locked my jaw and steeled my eyes, so he wouldn’t see how nervous I was as I glanced over at him.

  His eyes narrowed, and he seemed to stop breathing before quickly turning away, picking up the pen to sign the paper.

  Yeah, I wasn’t expecting this either, College Boy.

  We’d done a great job of avoiding each other the past few years. I knew which pubs to stay out of, and he knew to avoid High Street, since that was where I worked.

  And even though I was no longer dirt poor and struggling, I made sure not to frequent fancy restaurants or the country club, where I might see him. And since Jase led such a blessed life that he didn’t ever have to step foot in a grocery store, pharmacy, or McDonald’s, we hadn’t crossed paths.

  Except for once on the street while watching the Fourth of July parade, and that was two years ago.

  He signed the paper and handed it over to Mrs. Bauer, and then I saw him look our way again.

  “Jared?” he said, peering around me, surprised.

  My son turned his head to look at Madoc’s father, and I glanced between them. Jared didn’t remember him, did he? We were careful.

  Unless Jared had run into him at Madoc’s house, since they were friends.

  Jase regarded him, though, as if he was seeing him for the first time.

  “Yeah?” Jared asked, sounding annoyed.

  But Jase simply turned away. “You’re both getting suspended together.” He handed Mrs. Bauer the pen, talking to Madoc. “How come I’ve never met your friend before?”

  “Probably because he’s at our house more than you are,” his son shot back.

  I smiled, taking too much pleasure in that comeback. Madoc might not be giving Jase the hell Jared gave me, but it was something, and I liked knowing someone in his life was holding him accountable.

  A cell phone rang, and Jase pulled his out of his breast pocket, checking the screen. Tapping a button, he slipped it back into his pocket. “May I please have my stepdaughter, Fallon Pierce, as well?” he asked Mrs. Bauer. “Might as well pick her up while I’m here and save Addie the trip.”

  The receptionist gave him a look, her mouth twisting in annoyance. “Of course,” she finally grumbled.

  Heat covered my skin, and I wasn’t sure if it was Jase or the mention of a stepdaughter. I knew he’d remarried quickly after his divorce from Madoc’s mother years ago.

  Very quickly, in fact.

  Yeah, men like him didn’t know how to be without wives to handle the
ir houses and kids and schedule the fucking gardeners and caterers. All so they can have everything and sacrifice nothing.

  But it wasn’t me. He had his dirty fun with the trailer park girl. He couldn’t marry her.

  I ground my teeth together and swung my purse over my shoulder.

  “I’m going to go wait in the car,” I heard Madoc say as he grabbed his father’s keys off the counter.

  “Yeah, me, too.” Jared plucked my set out of my purse.

  But I shot out my hand, snatching them back. “Absolutely not,” I snapped. “You don’t move a muscle without my say-so. You got that? And you will apologize to Tate as soon as she gets home from school.”

  “I’m not doing shit,” he bit back and turned around. “I’ll be in the parking lot.”

  “Jared!”

  But all I could do was watch as both boys walked out of the office, leaving Jase and me alone.

  “Genetics is amazing, isn’t it?” Jase commented at my side. “Jared hasn’t seen his father since he was a baby, and yet there’s so much of the man in him.”

  I darted my eyes to Jase, my nostrils probably flaring. “You don’t know Jared or anything he’s been through, so don’t act like you do.”

  Spinning around, I walked out of the office, trying to get far away from him.

  But he was on my heels instantly. “Well, I’m wondering if you even know him.”

  I clutched my purse strap, fisting my hand around it to keep it from shaking.

  “And what do you mean ‘what he’s been through’?” he asked. “He hasn’t seen his father, has he?”

  I charged down the hallway, his familiar scent of sandalwood, angelica, and something else I couldn’t place washing over me like an ice-cold martini. I licked my dry lips.

  “Kat?” he pressed when I didn’t answer. “Please tell me you weren’t stupid enough to let that man near him.”

  I refused to answer. Jase was out of my life, and I wasn’t sure why he felt the need to act concerned. He might not be a criminal like Thomas, but they were both neglectful fathers. He had no right to judge me.

  A young woman, about Jared and Madoc’s age, came down the stairs, catching us right before we walked out the door.

  “Hey, what’s up?” she asked, clutching her backpack straps at her shoulders. Her eyes moved from Jase to me, and then back to Jase.

  “I needed to pick up Madoc, so I thought I’d grab you, too,” he answered.

  Ah, the stepdaughter.

  Her green eyes turned annoyed behind her glasses. “Awesome,” she bit out. “Moron screws up, and I have to go home, too.”

  Jase sighed and pushed open the door for her. “Just get in the car.”

  She strolled outside and he looked to me, gesturing with his arm. I walked through the door and stopped at the top of the steps, watching the kids in the parking lot. Jared’s face was buried in his phone, while Madoc made faces like a five-year-old at his stepsister.

  “They seem to get along well,” I mused, not caring I sounded sarcastic. “I heard you remarried a couple of years ago. Congratulations.”

  He let out a long breath, descending the stairs with me. “Life moves on, I guess. How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

  I stared at him, with his face like stone and his voice almost bored like he was asking me if I’d tried the new restaurant on High Street yet.

  He almost looked calm.

  But then I noticed that he wasn’t breathing again.

  I tilted the corner of my mouth up, letting out a small smile. “Like you said, life moves on.”

  • • •

  I held my pen in my hand, sitting curled up in the dark living room in the chair. Music played from the stereo, and I covered my legs with a blanket, staring at the words on the paper, the beautiful oblivion of the rum heating my veins and clouding my brain.

  He was never mine. I knew that much all those years ago, so why the hell did I let him in? My chest ached with a sob I wouldn’t let out, my eyes burning with tears. I swallowed the lump in my throat and picked up my drink, forcing it all down my throat.

  I never learned how to be someone. Who was I without him?

  His life had moved forward in our time apart. His father had passed away last year, and Jase now ran one of the most successful law firms in the country. Many mornings I woke up faced with him in my newspaper and, as always, he won everything he went after. Nothing had ever distracted him, least of all losing me.

  I, on the other hand, remained still. I’d rarely dated, and I hadn’t moved forward in a long time. My heart was still broken.

  And that was proven after seeing him this afternoon and completely falling apart as soon I’d gotten home. Jared charged for his room, slamming the door, and I made for the freezer, pulling out what was always in there, and chasing the promise of escape. I could forget him every night.

  Or remember him. If I drank enough.

  I clutched the diary in my hand, holding it against my knees, and dug my pen into the paper.

  “I wish I’d never met him.”

  “Who?” a voice asked. “My father?”

  I popped my head up and saw Jared leaning against the door frame between the living room and the foyer, staring at me with his hands in his pockets.

  “Yeah, your life would’ve been better if you’d never met him and I’d never been born, wouldn’t it?”

  I glanced back down at the words I’d written. Had I said them out loud?

  Looking back up, I shook my head. “That’s not what I was talking about.” I closed the diary, leaving the pen inside when I set it down on the end table.

  He continued to watch me, and I heard rain begin to fall against the window as the clock chimed on the mantel. What time was it?

  Taking a quick look at the clock, I saw it was after eight. I hadn’t made dinner, and he hadn’t eaten anything, having been up in his room since one this afternoon.

  I combed my hand through my hair, my stomach churning at how disgusting and pathetic I was.

  My voice was barely audible. “I’m sorry, baby.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  He strolled over to my side and gazed out the window, through the shimmer of rain. The shadows of the leaves outside fluttered across his face, and he seemed much older than his fifteen years.

  Jared hadn’t had a hard life the way his father or I did. He never wanted for much, and there was always food in the refrigerator and decent clothes on his back. And there were times when I was a good mom. He wasn’t always alone.

  Unfortunately, though, Jared learned at a very young age that while he could’ve had it worse, he also could’ve had it a lot better. Tate’s dad was a single father, after all. How come he could be there for his kid, and I couldn’t?

  His father abandoned him and abused him, and his mother was so busy making up for her lost youth that she neglected him.

  His eyes darkened as he stared out the window and narrowed his brow. All I could feel was the distance between us. I couldn’t remember the last time he let me hug him.

  “You should go over there,” I said quietly.

  “Where?”

  “Tate’s.”

  That was what he was seeing when he stared out the window. Her house sat right next to ours, and she was the only thing that ever made him happy.

  “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he ground out. “Get me out of your hair?”

  “What?” I leaned up, putting my feet on the ground and staring at him. “Jared, no—”

  “Tate can screw off and go to hell,” he growled, cutting me off. “I hate her.”

  I shot out of my chair, but I was too fast. My mind fogged over, and my balance teetered suddenly. I grabbed onto the back of the chair for support.

  “Jared, what’s the matter? What happe
ned?” I pressed. “You need your friends.”

  But he just glared ahead. “Not her. She’s just like everyone else. Doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself, stupid fucking cow.”

  And the he spun around and headed out of the room.

  “Jared!” I yelled, chasing after him, but my knees wobbled, and I felt like I was falling. “If this is your friend Madoc’s influence,” I choked out, trying to swallow the acid creeping up my throat, “I don’t want you hanging around him anymore!”

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” he laughed and opened the front door. “Why don’t you fucking wake up for a change, huh? He’s not the bad influence. I am.”

  He stepped onto the porch, and I grabbed his arm, pulling him back around.

  “Don’t touch me!” he bellowed, his eyes dark and his breathing heavy. He yanked his arm away, and I stood there, my blanket falling off my arm and my work clothes wrinkled.

  Fear wracked through me, and I was frozen. I couldn’t speak.

  His eyebrows dug in, and he looked like he was going to hit something. Or someone. For a moment, I almost let out a cry. It was like looking at Thomas all over again.

  My stomach shook, and I just wanted to fold. I was afraid of him. I was afraid of my kid.

  And it was my fault.

  The times he’d been pushed off to his grandparents or friends and my never being there, the neglect, the way I never put him first . . . I’d never been his mother, because I never made the choice to. I grew up with him, not for him.

  I could barely speak, my throat swelled with so much with pain. “I wish . . . ,” I whispered, letting my eyes fall. “I wish I was a better mom, Jared.”

  He was silent for a moment and then spoke up, his voice low and calm. “And I wish you’d just go away.”

  I shut my eyes, feeling the tears spill over as I heard his steps travel down the porch and disappear. When I opened my eyes, he was gone, and I couldn’t see him through the rain and darkness.

  I let the blanket fall completely, and I turned around, my steps faltering as I walked back into the house.

  What the hell have I done? Why had I given Jase so much power over my happiness? What if Jared ran off and left me, because it was nothing less than what I deserved?