Clipped Wings (30 page)

“I’m sure that girl forced you to sit there while she dry-humped your lap.”

I barely knew Tenley when that happened. Not that it made a difference. I still wanted her then. “My friend Chris, the one who’s stalking you? He was there to see you. He bought me the dance even though I told him not to, repeatedly. I didn’t want to offend the girl. I know it doesn’t make me look good and I get that, but I can’t take it back. Tenley’s important to me, more than you know. Why do you think I’m here?”

“For reasons other than the obvious? Why should I believe you?”

“Heard anything at night lately?”

“What?”

“Tenley has nightmares. Have you heard anything lately?”

“Not lately, but what does . . .”

“You want to know why that is? Because I’ve been here with her. I’ve been taking care of her.”

“I’m sure you have,” she said sardonically.

“You’re twisting my words. That’s not what this is about. She needs me and I need her. Don’t try and take her away from me.” The thought made my chest uncomfortable.

She glowered at me. “I’ll have you castrated if you hurt her.”

I nodded, not bothering to argue the case for my dick. Besides, Sarah had information I needed. “Was the accident less than a year ago?”

“It’s been close to eleven months now.”

“Fuck.” So, Tenley had been honest about that part. “How many people did she lose?”

I did and didn’t want the answer to this question. Sarah’s silence was suffocating, and after several long moments I looked up to see her twisting her hands in her lap. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “Nine.”

She had lost so much more than her parents.

“There were only thirteen survivors,” Sarah whispered. “Everyone she loved was on that plane, and she was the only one who made it out.”

I put my hand up. I didn’t want to hear any more, even though there was so much I still needed to know. I wasn’t going to get the whole story tomorrow, or the next day, for that matter. Just like I had given her a piece of my past while keeping the rest safely tucked away, Tenley had done the same.

“You see now?”

I did. Tenley wasn’t just broken; she was shattered.

My back was on fire. The smell of burned skin and hair wasn’t potent enough to overpower the stench of fuel. The smoke was thick, like acrid fog bearing down on me. At least the heavy haze partially masked the visual devastation; mangled bodies, faces no longer recognizable.

“Miss! Miss! Stay where you are!”

A blanket shrouded my shoulders, and a hand smoothed down my back.

Crippling pain buckled my knees. Black spots swam in my vision, spreading until they blocked out the light.

“We’ve got another survivor in here!”

The black abyss welcomed me, luring me in with its freedom from agony.

* * *

I shot up with a gasp, half expecting to be back on the plane, still trying to escape. Pale morning light shone through the curtains. I was in my bed in Chicago.

“Bad dream?”

Sarah startled me. She was lying on her back on Hayden’s side of the bed.

“Sorry.” She sat up. “How’re you feeling?”

My back really did feel like it was on fire. I touched my shoulder and cringed. Plastic wrap. The previous evening came filtering through as the muddiness of nightmare-riddled sleep cleared. Hayden finished the outline. A woman who knew him more intimately than I liked showed up at the shop. When he sent me home I took painkillers. The strong ones prescribed after the accident, not Tylenol, as Hayden requested. I also took medication for the anxiety. Then I sought out Sarah with a bottle of tequila. The end of the night was unclear.

“I feel waterlogged.” My voice was raw, like I’d been screaming. I hoped I hadn’t. “Did I have a lot of nightmares?”

Sarah shrugged. “Mostly you were restless and you kept spooning with me.”

“Why do I feel so . . . out of it? God, my back hurts.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say your back hurts because of the gigantic tattoo. You’re probably out of it because we smoked a little.”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Not cigarettes.”

“Oh. I don’t smoke that, either.” That explained why my throat felt raw.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said. “I thought it would help relax you. It was stupid of me. Your boyfriend was pretty pissed about it.”

“Hayden’s not . . .” For a myriad of reasons, guilt the most predominant one, I hesitated to put a label on what we had. “Where is Hayden?”

“I sent him home.”

“What? Why would you do that? Was he angry?” Everything in my head was scrambled.

“He wasn’t angry, not at you, anyway. He wasn’t very happy with me, though.” Sarah reached for the bottle of water on the nightstand and took a swig.

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” She almost looked relieved.

A few disjointed memories from the previous evening began to solidify. I struggled to pull the snippets of conversation together, but they didn’t make sense. In fact, I couldn’t remember much, and Hayden’s absence made me nervous. I remembered him stopping by and Sarah arguing with him, over what I didn’t know. I also recalled crying.

“Not a lot,” I admitted. “Why? Should I be worried?”

Sarah sighed. “Please don’t be upset with me.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“Hayden knows how many people you lost in the crash.” Sarah rushed the words, as if getting them out faster would make it easier to hear.

“What?” Panic constricted my throat.

“You have to understand, I assumed he knew. He just showed up here unannounced, like he owned the place, and I freaked out. I’ve seen him before at work, and he was with that guy who can’t take a hint. Hayden said his name is Chris?” Sarah obviously didn’t know Chris worked across the street. She misread my shocked expression and hurried to explain further. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Well, it does, but not really. You were so upset last night when I came over. I hadn’t seen you this week, and all of a sudden you have this huge tattoo, and then this tatted-up guy comes in like the dark knight of whatever. You got . . . emotional. Hayden stayed until you fell asleep.”

That explained the waterlogged feeling. Losing it in front of Sarah wasn’t ideal, but I feared Hayden’s reaction to such an outburst. I didn’t want to come across as weak or unstable.

“He left after that?”

“Not quite. He had some questions.”

“What kind of questions?” I asked, concerned about the answer.

“He wanted details. I told him when the accident happened.”

So he knew it wasn’t quite a year yet. That wasn’t too bad. “But you didn’t tell him why I was on the plane?”

“I told him you were going to your best friend’s wedding, but I didn’t elaborate.”

“You didn’t say anything about Connor?”

“No.”

“That’s good.” I exhaled a relieved breath.

“Tenley, sweetie, don’t you think he should know?”

“I’ll tell him eventually.” But not until I absolutely had to. I didn’t know how Hayden would deal with that kind of information or the fact that I’d kept it from him. I didn’t want him to think I was using him as a rebound. It scared me how much I needed him now. I couldn’t risk putting any distance between us. “You’re sure he wasn’t upset with me?”

“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “He was beside himself when you broke down. He didn’t want to leave, but I told him I would stay. I kind of threatened to castrate him.”

“You did what?”

She waved her hand. “Figuratively speaking. Anyway, we reached an understanding, so as long as he holds up his end of the deal, he gets to keep his balls.”

“I’d be interested to know what kind of deal you struck.”

“Feel free to ask him,” Sarah said, her smile full of mischief. She grew serious. “You know, it might have helped if I’d known you were sleeping with the guy. I have some thoughts on that, but I’m not going to share them with you right now, since you look like you might beat me with that pillow.”

I tossed aside the pillow. “I never said I was sleeping with him.”

Sarah arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to. It was written all over Hayden’s face. That, and he told me he was staying here every night. I assume you’re not making him sleep on the couch.”

I laughed. I would have to be certifiable to relegate Hayden to the couch.

“I can see why you’re into him. He’s got that badass man-pretty thing going on.”

“I would advise you to keep that observation to yourself. Hayden’s not a fan of the word
pretty
when it’s applied to him, even if it’s preceded by
badass,
” I said, glad to move on to lighter topics.

“I bet.”

We lay there until the pain in my back became too much. I shuffled to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. My skin felt tight, like a terrible sunburn. I took a regular painkiller and glanced at the anxiety meds. I couldn’t take any if I wanted to function, and I needed a clear head when I talked to Hayden today.

Before Sarah went home, she helped remove the plastic wrap. She was stunned by the intricacy of the design. I remembered little of what Hayden said about aftercare, but I did recall his chastising me over leaving the gauze on too long last time. The cool air functioned as both an irritant and a balm. Unable to bear the abrasiveness of fabric, I donned an apron to cover my chest and allow the tattoo to breathe.

Sarah promised to come back with coffee, so I left my door unlocked. The only new messages on my phone were ones I was evading. Trey continued to call, and I continued to ignore him, hoping eventually he would get the message and leave me alone. So far it hadn’t worked. I tried to work on my thesis, but I couldn’t focus enough to accomplish anything. It was still too early to call Hayden, so I decided to bake.

I pulled out my mixer and assembled the ingredients. Baking was a passion I inherited from my mom. Most of the time it relaxed me, but today it made me miss her more than ever. When the cupcakes were in the oven, I started on the icing. I was almost done sifting sugar when Sarah knocked on the door.

“Come on in.” I turned the speed down on the mixer and sifted in a little more sugar to improve the consistency.

The door opened and closed.

“Holy fuck.”

Hayden’s deep voice was unexpected. Icing sugar puffed out of the bag, a fine dusting settling on the counter and my skin. I flipped off the mixer and turned to find Hayden staring at me, slack-jawed, a tray with three take-out coffees in his hand. He set it on the edge of the counter, his eyes never straying from my body. My outfit was ridiculous. To complement the apron, I wore a pair of black shorts that covered too little to be good for anything but sleeping. And I had on leg warmers, because I liked them and they were comfortable.

“I thought you were Sarah,” I said meekly.

I feared the conversation we needed to have. From Sarah’s perspective, he’d seemed more shocked by the revelation than upset. Or maybe she was wrong. With a glower, Hayden stalked across the kitchen to stand over me. I tilted my head back. He looked tired, but he was freshly showered, his hair still damp. He skimmed my arms with his fingertips, barely touching me, a juxtaposition to the hard line of his mouth. “You took the cellophane off.”

“W-was I supposed to leave it on?” I stumbled over my response, taken off-guard. I’d expected immediate confrontation, not this.

“Did you do it by yourself?”

“Sarah helped me.”

“That’s my job.” His lip twitched.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t let it happen again.” I felt like we weren’t talking about the tattoo anymore.

“About last night—” I started.

“I get why it was too hard to tell me. I don’t like it, but I get it.”

“I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” I shouldn’t continue to keep things from him. And that was it, the horrible truth under it all. I couldn’t tell him the most significant part of my loss. Because in owning it, I would be forced to look at what I was doing with Hayden, and why he felt so much more right than Connor ever had.

“About when the accident happened or who was on the plane with you?” He was close, but he made no move to touch me again.

“Both.”

“No. You shouldn’t have. But it doesn’t change whether or not I’ll finish the tattoo if that’s what you’re worried about.” There was hurt lurking beneath his fierce front. As if he believed the tattoo was all that mattered to me. If only it had been that simple.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I ached to touch him, ached just as much for his touch.

“What is it then?” Like he sensed my need, his knuckle brushed down my cheek and he lifted my chin.

I shook my head, unable to express my fears.

“Tenley, talk to me.”

“That woman at the shop—”

“Isn’t important.”

“But—”

“I wasn’t lying when I said you were the only one. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Hayden demanded, he cursed and he seduced, but he didn’t plead. I sensed the weight of his fear in his tenderness. He was as afraid as I was to answer questions. As much as I wanted him to be right about what did and didn’t matter, I knew differently. My past haunted my present and shaped my future. But for now, I would let it go because whatever his demons were, I didn’t need them to haunt us both. Not yet.