“I never claimed to be anything other than who I am. You’re right and I know it.”
“Then what room do you have to talk?”
“I don’t! You think I don’t know that?” The urge to cry burns behind my eyes, in my chest, and God do I want to reach for him. To stop dancing around in this masquerade and figure out who I am, to be proud of it and to learn to love the way he does.
After taking a few deep breaths, I reach inside me and find words. “I’ve never let anyone in as much as I’ve let you. It’s scary as hell and my instinct is to run like crazy but I’m here. I might not be as strong as I’m telling you to be but I’m here . . . for you.” The words make my chest ache; I’m embarrassed because I know how crazy they sound.
“It scares the hell out of me. I’ve seen people ruin lives in the name of love, feel like lesser of a person when they can’t be what others want them to be and I’ve seen it given unconditionally too . . .” That’s how Mom loves Dad. How my whole family loves each other and how I know they want to love me, but how can they? I was gone for so long and I came back a shell of the person they knew. Maybe they loved Leila, but Leila isn’t Bee.
I turn my head, unable to look at him anymore, scared to see what reflects in his gray eyes because I think I told him I want to love him. Or that I do. Hell, I don’t even know what I said. Maddox doesn’t let me off easily. Gentle hands touch my chin and push until I’m looking at him again.
He’s breathing so hard I feel his breath. Wonder if he hears the wild beat of my heart.
“And?” His voice comes out raspy.
And I don’t get love. Don’t want to feel it even though I worry I already do. I was stolen and shown love only to be told it was wrong. To remember how they hurt me and then returned to find out I couldn’t be the same girl my real family loved.
“I’ve seen the way you love your sister. You would do anything for her. You lied to my mom for me and you’ve been there for me when I haven’t been able to give you anything in return. Nothing that happened with your family is your fault. You couldn’t have known what your dad would do and telling your mom probably wouldn’t have stopped him. I guess”—I shrug—“that’s what I can do for you. What I want for you, Maddox. For you to know that you’re probably the best person I know. None of what happened was your fault. Your dad is responsible for his actions, and your mom is responsible for her reactions. It’s not a child’s job to police their parents.”
And even though everything I said is true, I still avoid telling him about me and it feels wrong. Maddox drops his hand from my face and I know he knows it too. He thinks he’s a coward, but it’s me. I’ve let him down the way I let my real family down as well.
He steps away. “If that’s all you have for me, it’s not enough.”
My legs go weak but I manage to keep myself standing. That’s what I do. I’m strong. I push through. I lived through losing my parents the first time and then losing Rex and Melody. This is something else I will make it through. It’s not like we didn’t know it would end anyway. It’s gone on too long as is.
My hand longs to reach up and grab my chest like that will somehow ease the pain there.
Oh, God. I love him. I really think I love him.
“Okay . . . We’ll finish with things you have going on here. I’m sure you and Laney will need help with arrangements for your mom and I want to be here for you. I—”
“What’s the point, Bee? It’s not going to change anything. You didn’t want ties anyway, so I’m not going to force them on you. You might as well leave now.”
Breath catches in my throat. I might not have wanted ties but they’re there now . . . only he wants to cut them.
“That’s what you want?” Say no. I’m sorry. I’ll be what you need me to be—no! I am who I am, and I won’t change that for anyone.
“It’s what’s going to happen.” Without another word, Maddox turns and walks from the room. After letting myself take three deep breaths, I grab my things before I leave.
It feels like it takes years to get to my car. I turn it on, letting the engine run as though sitting here will make a difference. It doesn’t.
I can do this. I’ve done it before. I’ve lost before. The whole time I’ve planned to lose Maddox, and that’s exactly what’s happening.
Car in reverse. Back up.
In drive. Go forward.
For a good fifteen minutes I drive. Keep going until I feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin. Until a scream climbs up my throat and I’m scared I won’t be able to hold it in. I jerk the car to the right and pull over. The second it stops, aching cries rip from my mouth. My face is wet and my shoulders shake as I cry. When was the last time I cried? When I was taken and thought I lost my family? When I had to understand why I had new parents and couldn’t tell anyone that I used to have different ones? When Rex and Melody made me cry because they wanted me too much—because they wanted a child to love?
Or was it when I went home? When I laid in bed at night trying to figure out how to be Leila for these perfect parents who loved me so much. For a sister who missed me? When I had to force myself how to forget about Coral, when both Coral and Leila were suddenly strangers?
Who am I?
Because Bee isn’t enough. Not for Maddox at least and even though I want to feel okay with that, I can’t. Because I love him. That strange fucking word that people put so much stock into that causes nothing but pain.
All I know is I’m tired of hurting, tired of losing. Tired of running and avoiding.
My eyes hurt from crying so much but it’s nothing compared to the emptiness in my chest. That space I never wanted to fill and then Maddox snuck inside, took it over, and now he’s gone.
Because I couldn’t say good-bye to my past. I couldn’t for my parents, and now I can’t for him either.
No matter what, my past continues to haunt me.
Shaking my head, I hope to evict the thoughts there. After wiping my face on the sweatshirt in the passenger seat of my car, I start it again and drive away.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
~Maddox~
I’m up before the sun, which would piss me off if my head weren’t full of so much other shit. Mom, Laney, Bee. They’re all pulling me in different directions, three voices yelling for attention in my brain, making me get why people like Adrian turned to shit like weed when things go bad. Not that I would because that’s not me. I hate that shit but right about now, I would give almost anything to forget.
Forget she died.
Forget I hated her.
That I hurt my sister.
Took something from her.
And Bee. Jesus Christ I wanted her to stay. Wanted her to tell me she could give me more because I want that with her. Wish she could open up to me the way I did with her. Only with her. She didn’t want me enough to try, though.
My fists tighten, wishing like hell I could hit something, but instead I shove out of the bed I’ve been lying awake in for hours and head to the bathroom.
The shower doesn’t help, so after I get dressed, I grab my phone and the keycard so I can walk down and get a pack of cigarettes before going to see Laney. As I’m heading down the outside walkway, I don’t know what makes me do it but pull my cell out of my pocket. I let my finger ghost over the missed call button.
I know exactly what I’ll see. I still do it anyway. My finger presses down.
One, two, three, four, five . . . they keep going—one missed call after another, all of them with the same name.
Mom.
Fire burns through me and for the first time in my life, I wish it would burn me alive. Wish for something, anything, to swallow the guilt that’s inside me.
Just like Dad did, I pushed her aside. Yeah, she was horrible to Laney and that shit was so fucking wrong, but I never even tried to do anything to change it. Never tried to help. I pushed her away and drowned in all my fucking anger, casting her aside like Dad did.
I ha
d no idea how to help her. And now she’s gone.
Stopping, I drop against the wall and close my eyes. Try and calm the breaths rushing from my lungs. I want to lose it, really fucking lose it. Shaking starts in my insides and burns outward. Heat engulfs me—anger, rage, pain, whatever the fuck else I can find in there, and it’s crazy because I actually want to let it out. I never lose it. I just become an asshole and walk away. I want to be free of it. And I sent away the only person I can do that with.
And she left easily.
“Last time we met in a hotel walkway like this, there was a lot of fucking blood. Think we can skip that part this time so we don’t hurt your sister anymore?” Adrian stops beside me.
“Fuck you.”
“Heard that from you before. It’s getting old as hell. Called your room and you weren’t there, so I told Laney I’d come check on you. I’ll tell her you’re being your typical asshole self.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him fuck you again. It doesn’t matter right now. He doesn’t or I don’t. “How is she?”
Adrian shakes his head like it’s a stupid question, which I guess it is. “She’s hurting, man. How do you think she is? She loves her mom and now she’s gone. She got into it with you last night and that always fucking kills her. But like you told me the last time we stood together at a hotel like this, she’s strong—stronger than all of us—so she’ll be okay. Even if she didn’t have me, which she always will, she’ll be okay.” He crosses his arms and I know he’s not done yet. I don’t know why I don’t walk away from the bastard.
“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t have gone without her, man. Is it a shitty thing to see your mom like that? Yeah, and I wish like hell she didn’t have to but she can handle it and it was her right to be there—with you. She doesn’t need you to save her—never has.”
I hate him more for telling the truth. Hate myself because he’s still manning up in a way I won’t.
“I didn’t think she’d want to go and see her like that. I want to do right by her.”
Adrian studies me. His eyes narrow but not like he’s pissed—like he’s trying to put together some kind of puzzle. He crosses his arms, and again I want to tell him to fuck off. Whatever shit he wants to give me, I’m not in the mood for it right now.
“I know you do. You’ve loved her better than I did my own sister but you need to let her live too.”
His words are needles sticking into me, prick after prick. Because they’re almost . . . cool. I didn’t expect them and wish they weren’t both truth and lie.
“I know she can handle it and I haven’t been a good brother to her.”
Adrian shakes his head. “Christ, I can’t believe I’m going to do this. I should have brought a bottle of whisky like you did. Would be easier.”
I almost laugh at that.
Adrian leans against the wall, looking forward. I turn from him, too, knowing whatever he’s going to say, I’m not going to want to see him while he does it.
“I don’t know how much Laney told you about me, but my dad used to beat us. I watched as he beat my mom and I let my sister Angel take beatings for me too. I was young, so fucking young, but that doesn’t matter. What does is I let them down. Then Angel took me to live with her and the first thing I do is get some girl pregnant at sixteen. Then I had a son—Ash—and . . .”
It’s as though Adrian’s hand is fisted around my throat. He’s cutting my air off and cutting my heart out and I know I deserve it. Still, I don’t know if I can listen to him talk about his son.
“He was fucking incredible, ya know? Only two but it was like he knew the world better than I did. Angel helped me with him too. She took care of both of us and when he died, I bailed on her. When have you walked away from Laney?”
“I wasn’t there . . . when Mom slit her wrists.”
“That’s a fucking bullshit answer and you know it. You didn’t leave. You were working. You’ve never fucking left her. You came with her to Brenton even though you didn’t believe in what she was doing. You sacrificed loving your own mom for her.”
My eyes snap to him at that and he’s looking at me. Looking like he knows shit about me that I don’t. “I’m not playing let’s open up and talk with you. That’s not me.” Pushing off the wall, this strange thought filters into my head. I want to take those words back . . .
Because he’s being fucking real. In a lot of ways, that’s who I am. I’m real and honest and don’t sugarcoat anything. Maybe that’s really a lie. That’s what I want people to think. I’ve been a prick to him. Our father killed his son and he’s standing here talking to me about him.
“Fucking pussy.” Adrian’s hand comes down on my shoulder. His accusation is another truth because I am exactly what he said. “You play that game real well. You accused me of being weak when you’re just as bad. You hide behind being a prick, the whole fucking time pretending all you want to do is take care of your sister, but that’s not all, is it? There’s more to it than that but you aren’t man enough to face it.”
At that I whip toward him, words doing what my fists have done the other times we’ve fought. “You want to know the truth? Is that going to change so fucking much? Fine, I used to go with my dad when he gambled. I kept it from Mom and Laney, pretending it was for their own good and that I thought he would stop. Really it was to be selfish. I never said a word—just gave up playing football with him, telling myself I was sacrificing something so it wasn’t wrong.
“And then I confronted him one day when he was leaving. Threatened to tell but as soon as he brought up money, I let it go. I let him walk out the door and I didn’t tell Mom or Laney and then he killed a little boy.”
Adrian’s face pales at that. His jaw tightens, fire burning in his eyes.
“Every fucking day I hate myself for that. Not for me but because a kid died because of my selfishness. And then my sister fell in love with the boy’s father and I look at him and pretend to fucking hate him when I know he’s more of a man than I am. I watch him love my sister better than anyone in her life has and all I see are my own failures. I would do anything—any-fucking-thing—to get that day back! I will never . . .”
I let out a deep breath. Adrian still isn’t moving. His hand has fallen from my shoulder, and he looks sick. Looks like he could pass out and I know I’m screwing with him more by finally opening my mouth and telling him the truth.
“I will never regret anything like I do that day. All these years I’ve been trying to make it up to Laney, trying to be what she needs so she doesn’t feel her loss, but it’s nothing compared to what I owe you. Every day of my life, I will hate myself for that. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
One, two, three, seconds I close my eyes. Brace myself for the hit that I know has to be coming. He deserves to do more than punch me. When it doesn’t come, I open my eyes to see Adrian still staring at me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him again before I turn and start walking away.
The end of the walkway gets closer and closer. I don’t know where I’m going. I only know I can’t fucking stay here.
My foot hits the top stair when I hear, “Wait.”
And as much as I want to keep going, I owe him this. Owe him to at least hear him out. Slowly, I turn and walk back to him. And he’s shaking, fucking trembling. I wish like hell he would hit me. It would be easier to deal with than this.
“You weren’t driving the car.” A pause. “You couldn’t have stopped him.” Adrian’s words are slow . . . measured, pain traveling from them to me. I see how much he’s struggling, how much he wants to believe the words he’s saying. “It’s not your fault, like it isn’t my fault. I let him play in the yard when I knew I shouldn’t. I wasn’t standing next to him to protect him like a father should . . . but I also wasn’t behind that wheel.” He runs a hand over his face. “And . . . and neither were you.”
When I was younger, before I really got what Dad was doing, I looked up to him. Once the
truth came out, I stopped. I’ve respected people since then—Laney, Bee, and even Adrian for still loving my sister—but I’ve never looked up to someone until this second. “How can you say that?”
“Because it’s true.”
For the first time since I found out what Dad did, a tear slips out of my eye. Christ, we have all lost so fucking much. Parents, kids, dreams—way more than our fair share. We’ve hurt people we’ve loved and we’ve hurt ourselves and we’ve been lost. Through it all, we’re still fucking standing. Adrian’s doing more than that now; he’s learning to live.
I want to live too . . .
“I was wrong about you. I’ve known it but I want you to know it. I was wrong. You’re more of a man than I’ve ever been, and I can only hope like hell I’ll be this strong one day. My sister is lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you take care of her. I’ve hurt Laney and my mom and treated you like shit. And Bee . . . Christ, even her. I told her to go. I let her walk away from me instead of trying to be what she needed. Instead of showing her I love her so she felt safe enough to let me inside.”
I’ve made such a fucking mess of everything. I’ve acted like my dad and I will never let myself do that again.
“Then fix it. Start with her.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I can’t. She left. I don’t know where she went and Laney . . . I need to do this with her.”
“When will you ever fucking learn, man? If you really love Bee, Laney would rather you fix shit with her. She can take care of things here, and I’ll be here with her every step of the way. And . . . and she’ll be there for me too.” His eyes are hard on me, making sure I know what he’s saying. That he has to talk to my sister about what I told him because he needs her. That’s what they do for each other.
That’s what I want to do for Bee.
“You managed to Sherlock your way into finding me when I left Laney. Do that for yourself.” Adrian reaches into his pocket, pulls out a set of keys, and tosses them at me.
Looking at him, I know what he’s going to do. He’s going to Laney to face what I told him and deal with it head-on. They’ll face taking care of Mom’s arrangements together too. I’m so tired of fucking running. I’ve never faced anything. I kept quiet about Dad. I walked away from football. There isn’t one thing in my life I’ve had the balls to fight for—until now.