Me After You (19 page)

“That’s not a very warm hello.” I don’t get a chance to step back before he pulls me in for an awkwardly tight hug. His hands roam unwelcome up and down my back. I stiffen.

“It wasn’t meant to be welcome,” I say, shifting out of his leech-like grasp. Josh had a wandering eye in high school. Whenever he would see me in the halls, I couldn’t help but feel like he was undressing me with his eyes. He had always given me the creeps, but since he was Dean’s friend, I figured they were friends for a reason. In the past, I told myself it was probably me being paranoid, but now, with his shifty eyes and wandering hands I’m feeling uneasy on this barely lit street.

“Oh where is the love? I haven’t seen you in years, and you can’t pretend to be happy to see me? I’m happy to see you.” He attempts to wink.

“It’s good to see you,” I lie. “But I’ve had a long day, so I’m going to head home.” I step to the side to walk around him. “Goodnight, Josh.”

“Hey, hey now.” His hand latches onto my arm and pulls me back in front of him. “We were having a conversation. I just want to get reacquainted.” He attempts to smile, but his teeth are clenched, so it’s more of a sneer.

“You’re drunk, and this conversation is over. Let go of me, Josh,” I say as firmly as I can muster. Trying to be discreet, I search the streets around us, but it’s a little late for people to be out and walking around town on a Wednesday night. Farther down the street, I see a few people, but they’re walking in the opposite direction. If I scream now, they might hear me, but I could be screaming prematurely and make an unnecessary scene.

“You know if you picked me, I never would have left you like Dean did. I’m here, aren’t I?”

I feel a pang in my heart. It’s one thing for me to talk about Dean’s abandonment. It’s another for someone to wave it in front of my face like it’s everyday conversation.
 

“You talk of picking as if you tried, but I don’t recall there ever being a competition.”

“Oh, there was plenty of competition.” He doesn’t let go of my arm as he leans in closer to my face. His pungent breath fills my nose. “We just settled it as men would, behind closed doors, away from the ladies.”

“I should go home, Josh. It’s late. I’m tired,” I try again. “You should go home, too. Sleep would probably make you feel better.”

“I can make you forget,” he whispers. “I can make you forget it all.”

A shiver surges up my spine. “Let me go, Josh,” I press, pulling my arm back, but he won’t loosen his grip.

“I just want a taste. I want to know what I’ve been missing all of these years. Dean was a fool to let you go.”

Bile rises in my throat. It didn’t occur to me that he would actually try something. We’re not in some dark alley. We’re off Main Street, but he’s not deterred. “If you even dare try, I promise you’ll regret it.”

“I doubt that.” His hands grab my wrists, locking them behind my back before shoving me back against the brick building. It’s so quick I don’t get a chance to scream before his tongue invades my mouth. The jagged bricks stab my arms, and the more I attempt to break free, the harder he pushes and the deeper the brick digs into my skin. One of his hands moves to my chin to hold it still, keeping me from thrashing from side to side. I try to lift a knee, but his body is flush against mine, leaving no room for leverage.

Tears pierce my eyes as I cry into his mouth. He takes my desperate pleas as encouragement and begins feeling his way up my shirt. Each inch that his fingers crawl, the more intense the fear swells in my chest. This is really happening to me. And then he’s gone.

I exhale and open my eyes as someone throws a punch across Josh’s jaw. He doubles over, and, just as quickly, is upright and held by the throat.

“If I
ever, ever
see you near Sawyer again, I swear I’ll end you, Josh.”

I know that voice. I know that voice like I know my own.

“Oh c’mon, Dean. We were just getting reacquainted.” Josh smirks with blood dripping from his lip. “She liked it. Didn’t you hear her moans?”

Dean punches him again, knocking his head to the other side. “Don’t give me that load of bull.” His voice is seething as he attempts to remain calm. “You don’t touch her.”

“Why do you care? She’s not yours. She’s free game now. Didn’t you hear that her husband got whacked?”

Dean punches Josh again so hard his head snaps to the side and hangs. Dean lowers his voice to a deadly calm. “I’m going to give you one more chance to shut your mouth and walk away because we’re old friends and you’re drunk, but if you so much as
think
of touching Sawyer again, I’ll kill you. I swear on my life, Josh… I will end yours.”

Josh lifts his head weakly and raises his hands in mock surrender. He spits blood. “Damn, Dean. I was leaving anyway,” he slurs.

Dean stands rigid with his back to me as he watches Josh stumble down the sidewalk. When he turns and sees me, his stone face softens. He relaxes his jaw and swallows. “You okay?”

I nod, but the tears are spilling down my cheeks. I don’t know why I’m crying. He reaches for me, and I don’t protest when he pulls me into his arms. In his arms, I feel safe. I feel protected. I forget that I hate him so much.

“I’m sorry, Sawyer. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you sooner,” he murmurs into my hair. The warmth of his breath trails down my neck as he holds me close.

I nod into his chest and quietly cry because I know he’s apologizing for so much more than tonight, and for tonight, I want to pretend that I forgive him.

After a couple of minutes, the warmth of his strong arms around me is more than comfort. An ache to be held longer and tighter forms, and that’s when I know I have to pull back. I don’t want to want him. I can’t want him. I won’t let myself ever again. He releases me, but stays close. I feel his eyes on me.

“You okay to drive?” He tilts his head down to try and make eye contact, but I can’t. I can’t meet his stupid piercing eyes, so I look in the direction of my car.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I brush him off.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

I nod mechanically. He bends to the ground and picks up my purse. I take it from him with a quiet, “Thanks.”

My hand shakes as I search for the keys in my purse.

“Are you sure you’re all right to drive?”

I nod, but it’s so he’ll leave me alone.

“Let me take you home, Sawyer. My truck’s around the corner.” I hesitate. “Please?” I hate that he feels as if I can’t handle myself, like I’m too weak—or broken—to handle Josh Freaking Duncan. “I really don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know,” he says as if he’s trying to appease me. “It’s for my own peace of mind.”

“It wouldn’t make any sense. I’d have to leave my car and then have no way to get to work in the morning.”

“Maybe you should take the morning off.”

“I said I’m fine, Dean.”

“Okay,” he gives in reluctantly. He eyes me warily, but I try to ignore him. His stare is making me nervous. Heat pools in my veins, knowing he’s scrutinizing everything about me.

I finally find my keys as we reach my car. “I’ve endured much worse. I’ll survive a little run in with a drunk idiot.”

“Just be safe driving home, okay?”

“I will,” I snap and then feel instantly guilty for some stupid reason. I have nothing to feel guilty for. He’s the persistent one. I want to be left alone. Even as those words cross my mind, I know I’m lying to myself. I’ve been alone long enough.

“Night, Sawyer.”

“Bye, Dean.” I climb into my car without looking back and drive off.

When I get home, I’m lucky enough that my parents are already in bed, so they don’t see me. I look at myself in my bathroom mirror. I look absolutely haggard. My make-up is smeared under my eyes. My hair is a mess of snarls. I splash my face with water, but then decide it’s not enough. I have to take a shower. I need to wash every last ounce of Josh off my body. When I’ve finished rubbing my skin raw I spend ten minutes brushing my teeth. I brush and spit, brush and spit. It’s not enough, but I finally head for bed. I pray sleep will give me peace.

***

Their fists come down over and over again. I don’t see Grayson’s body on the ground as their figures surround him. I watch, frozen, next to our car, unable to do anything about it as he calls my name, shouting for me to run.

“Run, Sawyer! Go! Run!”

But I can’t, and no one notices me. They continue with their rage. And Grayson’s voice gets more and more desperate until I can’t hear him anymore. Until the only sound left is the pounding of fists on flesh.

I wake up screaming, hands shaking my shoulders. “Sawyer, Sawyer! Baby, stop! Stop!”

My heart races. Sweat drips down my face as I try to catch my breath. My eyes dart around my bedroom, and the anvil on my chest disappears when I realize it wasn’t real.

“Sawyer, it was just a dream,” Mom murmurs, running her hand across my forehead, clearing the damp strands from my face.

But it didn’t feel like just a dream. Did Grayson scream my name as he took each blow? Did he think of me as he took his last breath?

“It felt so real,” I cry.

“It’s over.”

I nod and nestle into my pillow, but I’m too afraid to fall back asleep and dream of his cries. I’m reminded of Josh and his repulsive mouth. I’m reminded of Dean throwing punches, trying to protect me. “Will you stay with me?”

There’s a beat before she answers. “Of course,” she chokes. My mom crawls in beside me and wraps me in her arms like she used to when I was little and had nightmares about monsters and demons. These monsters and demons are so much worse.

The tears spill down my cheeks until my eyes are too tired to make any more, and I finally drift off to sleep.

I
YAWN
AND
wipe my eyes when I get out of bed the next morning. Sleep didn’t find me at all. My relief was short-lived when I drove by her house last night to see her car in the driveway. Though she was safe in her bed, I didn’t save her. I wasn’t fast enough.

Concentrating at work is nearly impossible. I’m lagging so much I know I won’t be able to keep up with my workload.
 

“What did you do to Josh?”
 

I look up at Aiden who closes my office door behind him. “When did you see Josh?” I ask.

Aiden sits down across from me so I know he doesn’t plan on letting this go. “He stopped by my house this morning, wanting to apologize for all the junk he’s pulled. He told me he was leaving Willowhaven.” He rests his elbows on his knees with a serious expression and levels his stare. “Dean, the guy was nearly unrecognizable.”

“How do you know I had anything to do with that?”

“Because as soon as I mentioned your name he started to cry and repeated how sorry he was, then mumbled more crap. He was more of a mess than usual. What happened?”

Wiping my fingers across my mouth, I contemplate what to say, how much to say.
What would Sawyer feel comfortable with me saying?
“I found him outside of the bakery with Sawyer pressed up against the building. Let’s just say Sawyer wasn’t saying yes.”

Aiden sucks in a breath, leans back in the chair, and exhales. “I’m surprised you left him alive.”

“Me too.” The image of Josh holding her to the building replays in my head. Her cry will be burned into my memory. It makes me sick to think of his hands on her. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.

“How’s Sawyer?”

“She was pretty upset, but she wouldn’t let me do much. I know she was embarrassed. I made sure she got home safely and that was that.”

“Good riddance,” Aiden said and stood. “Hopefully he’s out of our lives for good. You did the right thing, man.”

I nod, but his words leave me feeling heavy. I wish I didn’t have to do what I did. I wish that Josh had tried harder to be a better person. I wish life could have been different for him.

“If you see Sawyer before I do, give her a hug for me,” he says before walking out the door.

I laugh because I’ll be lucky if she ever lets me touch her again.
 

Sawyer’s humiliated, tearstained face haunts me all day. Between every invoice and every phone call, between every repair and every conversation with Aiden, her face invades in my mind. When I can’t take it anymore, it shifts to the feel of her in my arms. She let me hold her. She finally let me touch her, and that small feeling of hope carries me through the entire day. It was only a step, but it was a step in the right direction. And like the pathetic guy I’ve become, I’ll take whatever I can get, no matter how wrong I know it is.

Lily hasn’t been able to stop talking about the redecorating of her house for the last hour. I’m sitting behind my desk working on invoices. It’s after hours, since I couldn’t manage to fit in all that I needed to with a tired, wandering mind. I told Lily she could come, but I’ve been regretting the decision since the moment she walked through the door.

“You know, I was thinking of painting the walls in my living room like a sunny yellow and the laundry room a calming green. But then I thought the laundry room could be whatever I want it to be. No one really goes in there but me, so I should have fun with it and go crazy. So I’m thinking maybe light pink and white stripes or lavender and cream, like…”

She keeps going on and on, and I can’t listen to it anymore. I can’t. She hasn’t taken a breath. It’s not what she’s saying that breaks me. It’s the thought that I know it’s over for us, and I have to tell her. For her sake, I have to let her go.

“Lily, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t even look at me with disgust. She looks at me as if she’s been waiting for this day to come and shakes her head slowly. “You’re not talking about paint, are you.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

I shake my head.

She nods, her turned down eyes shifting to the floor before meeting mine. “It’s because of Sawyer, isn’t it?”

I could say no. I could tell her that it wouldn’t be right even if Sawyer didn’t exist. But it is Sawyer. It’s always been Sawyer. I don’t say it. I nod. Maybe by nodding, it will hurt less. She won’t have to hear me say the words.