Authors: Liz Crowe
I heard her sigh. “You okay? We’re worried about you.”
I groaned, “I’m fantastic.” I took a couple of long breaths
before I could continue. “I got shot.”
“Shot?” Something thumped in the background. “After—”
“I’m good,” I said before she could freak out anymore. “I’m
home, safe, a cop is watching the house, but they found the person who did it.”
“Then, why is the cop still there?”
Ah, fuck
. There was no good way to answer that question
that wouldn’t cause even more worry.
Because I have difficulty dealing with
life in the real world
. Even a simple, “Because he’s worried,” wasn’t going
to go over well. I stared at the ceiling, unable to formulate an answer.
“Rose?” Chey began softly, “You should come home for a
while. You can stay here.”
I swallowed a laugh, “I’m not good company. How’s the baby?”
I wanted to talk about anything else.
“She wants to meet you.”
I wasn’t falling for that. Even the baby wasn’t going to
make me anymore sociable. “She’s seven weeks old; she just wants food and a
clean diaper.”
“If it was all that simple, I’d sleep a lot more.” There was
a pause, and I heard muffled voices and pops. “Peter’s here. He’s worried about
you, too.”
Perfect
. I was considering going to town and having a
few dozen cards printed up that said stop fucking worrying about me.
I felt even the smallest laugh in my shoulder, but slowly,
as we talked everything unraveled inside of me. “What’d we fight about again?”
“Oh, same old, same old. I’m sorry Rose, just come home for
a while.”
“I’m sorry, too, but I need to do this. I’m not always the
greatest at communication and people shit, and I’m going to try, but I’m not
ready to be around people all the time.” My family knew enough to understand
why I hadn’t been the same, but that was all I was ready to give up. I needed
space. I needed to not have to explain myself and the crazy dreams.
“You have someone to talk to?”
“Yeah, they throw me in with a shrink twice a week. And
there’s….”
James
. The only person who’d really come close to not needing
an explanation. “The cop who’s watching the house has been checking in on me.”
“Because,” she dragged the word out, “he’s afraid someone
else will come after you or that you’ll do something?”
Suddenly, the conversation about our fight seemed like a
better alternative. “So, you and Peter are engaged?”
“Rose. Which is it?”
“I don’t think he believes I’ll call and ask for help if I
need it. Nothing to worry about.”
“That’s quite an obligation from just some cop.”
I should have never let that tidbit slip out. “I’m not ready
to go into this, Chey. Give me the ‘you and Peter’ gossip. Give me gossip about
Mom and Dad, Uncle Ben, anything, just give me something normal.”
“We are engaged and also seeing a counselor, once a week.
Apparently, I’m not so great with communicating either, but we’re doing better.
I’m sorry I dragged you into the middle of all of that and then abandoned you.”
“And I’m sorry that I get bull-headed and don’t want to
listen. Let’s just put it behind us. It’s about damn time, right?”
Chey changed the subject to crazy stories from our
childhood, like the time she’d tried going down the slide on a board, and it
caught her pants and ripped them off.
By the time we were done with our hour long conversation, I
was too sleepy to even consider dinner, but at least I didn’t feel like I was
going out of my mind.
*****
I gasped, clawing at the comforter on the bed, tears still
rolling down my cheeks. Or maybe they were new tears; it was becoming too hard
to tell.
Rolling over, I glanced at the clock, it was three am. I
couldn’t breathe. My body shook. And the more my mind went over everything, the
worse it got. I grabbed my phone and the crumpled up note that I’d tucked in
the drawer, dialing the number before the numbness wore off too much and I
talked myself out of it.
“Hello,” a barely-there voice answered.
I sobbed at the sound of his voice, unable to even utter a
single word.
“Hello?” he repeated, stronger this time. “Are you okay?”
I sucked in a breath. “No.”
There was silence, and I hoped he hadn’t hung up for some
reason.
“Rose?”
“I’m sorry,” I cried.
“What can I do for you?”
“Talk…. Say anything… Just… She’s dead.” I collapsed against
the pillow as another fit of sobs tore at the hole in my arm.
“I know,” he whispered. “Take a breath, Rose.”
I wanted to ask him to come over. Come hold me. Make the
fear and sadness go away. “I’m sorry for what I said to you.”
“I get it. You needed to speak your mind. I’m glad you did
and I’m glad you called.”
I bit my lip. I had no idea what else to say. Waves of
emotions crashed in my chest, but I had no words that would make sense.
“Are you okay?” James asked after a long silence.
“No.” Okay didn’t seem to even exist. I felt guilty for not
reaching out to Alley. She’d been my friend. She’d played a part in making a
horrible situation not so bad, and I never thought to do the same for her. The
investigators and doctors told me to stay clear of everyone involved, but she
needed someone and it should have been me.
“Will you be okay long enough for me to get dressed and
drive there?”
“I—”
Come on, this is what you wanted
. “I can be.”
All I had to do was convince myself of that. I went through the house and
turned on all of the lights, hoping that’d make me feel less alone, then I got
paranoid that someone outside could see my shadow through the curtains, so I
went back through and turned them all off again.
It had only been ten minutes since I disconnected the phone
with James, but it felt like two hours and I had no idea how far away he was. I
dragged my fingers through my hair and paced through the hallway until I saw
headlights coming up the street. I had the door open before he even made it to
the front steps.
“Easy, honey,” he said, taking my face between his hands and
kissing my forehead. He glanced around then pulled me to the living room.
We curled up on the couch. I enjoyed the simple warmth of
his body pressing against my back for a long time before either of us spoke.
“I just have one question,” he said. “How’d you get my
number?”
“Um…” I bit my lip.
“Trent?”
I nodded, “When he came to tell me about—”
Trapper bounded down the stairs and stopped in the foyer to
stretch before continuing on into the kitchen.
“There’s my little hobo,” I mumbled. “I’ve been—I wanted to
pretend that none of that was me. It was all Silver, and she’s gone now.” I
shook my head and turned to face him. “I was pissed at you for disappearing,
but if I cut off Silver and let her die, then nothing exists between you and
me.”
He pushed back my hair. “It’s impossible to make it so black
and white. You survived. We survived together. And as much as I’d like to erase
some things. It’ll always be part of us. We both have a lot of work to do. We
can’t exactly pick up where we left off and we can’t just forget what
happened.”
His eyes were different. It was far more than being
exhausted because I had woken him up in the middle of the night. He’d become
distant and detached. “What happened to shedding it all away or smothering?”
“It takes time.” He wrapped his arms tightly around me and
tucked me against his chest again, kissing the top of my head as I relaxed.
“And work. And maybe something to work toward.”
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.
Something to
work toward
. I’d been concentrating on where I had come from, just getting
through the day, and hoping it’d finally be the day things would feel normal
again. It was time to rewrite my idea of normal. But there was still one thing
that stood in the way of what I wanted. “Together?” I asked, hoping that he
felt the same way.
“You sure you want to try that?” he asked.
“Yes. But I don’t want you to do it for me.”
“Good.” He rested his cheek on top of my head. “But, maybe
we should work on becoming friends first.”
I grunted and glared up at him. “I assume that means no
sex.” We used sex to avoid everything else—going back to that would only make
it harder to move on. But at the same time, I wanted his hands all over me. I
wanted him to ease the pain, to help me remember the good. We had to find a new
way to do that. “Anything else?”
He shrugged, dragging his fingers mindlessly through my
hair. “We stop apologizing about anything that happened and try to act like it
didn’t happen.”
“Easier said than done. You might have to remind me a time
or two, but I can handle that.”
James chuckled, “If I only have to remind you a time or two,
I’ll be worried.”
I twisted around just to see the smile on his face. For
those four weeks, we’d shared more than an apartment and our bodies. We’d
shared the pain, our fears, secrets, trust. Things that I couldn’t put into
simple words. We came through it, and even though every day was still a
struggle, simply having him next to me again made me want to keep fighting. I
wasn’t ready to let the feeling go again, even if only for a few hours. “Does
no sex include sleeping in the same bed?”
“If you want me to stay, I’ll sleep down here. We’re both
tired, and even I can only resist so much.” He kissed my neck.
“Yeah, do that again, and I’ll make it much harder.”
“Go to bed, Rose. You’re exhausted and so am I. We’ll talk
more—” he glanced at the window where the morning light was just beginning to
stream in. “We’ll talk more this afternoon.”
*****
Someone knocked on the door and I shot out of bed, pulling a
robe over my pajamas. I glanced out the window, but I didn’t see any cars that
I recognized. The knock sounded again and I sprinted down the stairs. Through
the thin curtains next to the door, I saw a female figure and yanked the door
open. “Chey and….” I looked down at the carrier in her hand. “You said, but—you
didn’t have to drive up here with her.”
“No…” she looked past me then raised her eyebrows. “ Is
that
your protective detail?”
My face heated and I followed her gaze. James was standing
in the doorway of the living room in his jeans and the white tank he’d worn
under his T-shirt.
“Chey, this is K—”
Fuck
. “James. James, my sister
Chey and her daughter Laney.”
“Nice to meet you,” James said with a nod.
“And you,” Chey drawled.
I punched her in the arm, and she gently shoved me back.
“I’m holding a baby.”
“And I’m swinging with my weak arm.” I lowered my voice. “No
flirting, you’re engaged.”
“I still have eyes.” She leaned in and whispered as she
passed, “since when do you go for tats?”
I grunted and closed the door, following her into the living
room.
James pulled on his T-shirt and shoes.
“You don’t have to leave,” I said. We weren’t even done with
our conversation, and I had just gotten him back.
“You should spend time with your family, we can talk
anytime,” he leaned over to kiss me, but I refused to let him say goodbye.
“At least stay for lunch.”
James snickered, “You cooking?”
Of course, he went right for the low blow. “I’ve gotten damn
good at spaghetti.”
He raised his eyebrows and made a sound in his throat. “Uh
huh. Without burning it?”
“So, this totally wasn’t a one-night stand!” Chey said,
lifting the baby out of the carrier, and eyeing both me and James.
My jaw dropped and I covered my face with a hand. “You’ve
got to be kidding me.”
“Come on,” she giggled, “just kidding. I’ll be good.”
James’ hands touched my waist pulling me close and as I
dropped my hand, he kissed my lips. “How about I go pick up something to eat.
You two can do the sister thing and then we’ll all have lunch.”
I pressed my lips together, he was getting a kick out of my
embarrassment, but I nodded and followed him out to the foyer just to smack him
in the arm.
“You’re violent today,” he whispered. “Are you sure you want
me here? Or is there a reason—”
“I want to spend time with you. We’re supposed to be moving
on, right? I just….”
I need you
. I wasn’t sure if it was healthy to need
a person so much that my chest ached.
“I’ll be back,” he promised, tracing his thumb over my lips.
I peeked in the living room to see Chey with little Laney
tucked over her shoulder.
“I’m going to take something for my shoulder, I’ll be back.”
I pulled myself to the upstairs bathroom and swallowed down two pain pills. I
thought about changing out of my pajamas, but I wasn’t sure I had it in me to
put on anything that didn’t involve a drawstring, so I headed back down and
curled up on the couch next to Chey, watching her feed Laney a bottle.
“You didn’t have to drive two hours to check on me,” I said.
“I wanted to see you. Even if most of the trip was driving.
Oh, and—” She tried to keep a straight face, but cracked a smile that captured
her entire face. “I thought I should ask you in person to be the maid-of-honor
at my wedding.”
My mouth fell awkwardly open for the second time in ten
minutes. “When?”
“September, so you have about four months, but you can
always come down and help me pick out my wedding dress in the meantime.”
Normal
. It hadn’t been what I was striving for since
I got home—it had been what I was running away from. “I’d love it. Just no
asking me to babysit while you try them on.”
“She’s not going to bite,” Chey teased.
“You really don’t know that.” I ran my fingers over Laney’s
short, soft hair. It was already dark, just like Chey’s. “She looks like you.
That’s a sure sign that she’s a pain in the ass.”