Sacrificing Sloan (Sloan Series Book 3) (18 page)

“Oh, I mean it. I love her. I don’t want to lose her.”

I couldn’t fault him for that. I didn’t want to lose Sloan, either. “Then I’m happy for you. Treat her right and…. um…” Parent? “Use protection…”

It might not have been the right words to say, but it did make Ray cringe, which was totally worth it. “Dude! We aren’t doing
that.
She’s going to start going to church with me.”

“And church people don’t…” I winked at him.

“Well, they might, but we aren’t. I’m doing this one right, this time, Aaron. No messing it up. My hormones are off limits.”

“Your hormones are those of a seventeen-year-old boy.”

“Almost eighteen-year-old man.” He corrected.

“Whatever. Are you sure you can handle a relationship like this?” When did I start having to talk about this?

“I’m sure. Are you?”

“Am I sure about you? Um… no… but if anyone can abstain, then it’s you.”

“Ha.” He tilted his head and looked at me like I was a big goober. “Not sure about me. I don’t care if you are sure about me and Mackenzie. You aren’t my father.” He used a fake, mock teenager tone that every kid on television used when talking to “not their father.”

“Thank goodness for that,” I winked. “I’d been be? the most awesome 18-month-old baby around, fathering a baby.”?

“Eww… just… ewww… stop. I’m talking about Sloan, and you aren’t changing the subject.”

“You giving me sex advice?” I had to laugh at the idea because I had been around the block a few times.

“I’m giving you sex orders. Sloan… part of the reason she broke up with what’s his name was that she didn’t want to sleep with him anymore. I’m sure it wasn’t just him. I’m guessing that includes you. Have you thought about that?”

Had I thought about that? No. I hadn’t had time to think about it. I was too busy not dying. “I’m not going to push her into something she’s not ready for.”

“You aren’t going to push her into anything at all.”

I sat up a little straighter. “Are you trying to defend her honor? Do you really think I’ll do something to hurt her?”

“I think I’ve seen you bring girls home in the past, Aaron.”

“So have you,
Ray
, just because I’m not big and mighty and saved like you, doesn’t mean I’m just a heathen who doesn’t understand the word ‘no.’”

“Look,” Ray pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. Apparently, this was getting to him. Good, it was getting to me, too. But even with all of this bickering, I was glad to have my little brother back. “I don’t think you’ll jump her or anything, but Sloan still blames herself a lot for what happened. For causing Boyd go to insane.”

“Sex with her that good?” I couldn’t help asking. It was insensitive, but sheesh. It was just sex. It couldn’t have been that magical—except I knew it would be for me when/if Sloan ever wanted to be with me.

“Crude much?”

“Sorry… I’m… yeah. I’m sorry. I just meant Boyd could have gotten sex from anyone. He did get it from that Darcy girl… Whatever happened to her?”

“Haven’t seen her since prom.”

“Hmmmm…” I didn’t have the time to care about it. “So what made Sloan so special that it drove him crazy? Why couldn’t he just move on?”

“Guess we’ll never know… unless he mentioned it when he was stuck with you?”

He hadn’t, and I tried not to talk about Sloan much because it ticked me off and made me want to rip Boyd’s head off. Neither were good options.

I leaned back against my pillow and shut my eyes. Everything was beginning to hurt, and I wanted some more pain medicine, ASAP. “Where’s Sloan, Ray?”

“Where do you think?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Sloan

7:16 PM

I
DIDN’T CREEP INTO THE FUNERAL
home. I simply explained the situation to the woman at the front desk, and she let me right in.

After all, the girlfriend of the deceased counted as immediate family, right?

I’d ask forgiveness for lying later. For now… now I needed to see Boyd.

Detective Morgan said she’d never seen a body be released to the family so quickly after a death, especially a suspicious death, like Boyd’s, but the medical examiner had found no criminal cause to charge Aaron with anything.

It was muddy.

Boyd slipped.

Boyd died.

End of story.

Didn’t hurt that the medical examiner was Darcy Perry’s father. Darcy—the girl Boyd attacked after me. He had every reason to hate Boyd as the rest of us.

Boyd was released to his mom. The funeral was set for tomorrow morning, but I wanted to go see him tonight before, all the gawkers came. I figured he at least owed me that.

It was very creepy, being in a funeral home after hours. The lights were dim. A soft hum came from the basement—not that I wanted to know what it was. The sweet receptionist told me Boyd was in the Blue Room and to take my time. She understood how much he must have meant to me. It was why she had left Nashville and settled in Chapel Hill, she said. Because of the death of her fiancé.

I might have known that and used it to my advantage…

I wasn’t proud of myself.

Once I put my hand on the Blue Room door, I hesitated. I couldn’t do this, could I? I knew I had to. I had to see Boyd in the casket, not breathing, not able to hurt me, and then I could rest. I could live my life and know that he wouldn’t come back and attack me in the shadows.

One thing I kept forgetting about Boyd was that he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t wear a hockey mask, and he didn’t have knives for fingers. Boyd Lawrence was a flesh and blood guy who died like flesh and blood guys did. No passing Go. No collecting $200.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. Letting it shut behind me.

Four lamps were evenly spaced in the room, not much bigger than my living room. They let off an amber glow, which added to the creepiness. There were no other lights except for the lamp at the head of the casket.

The receptionist wasn’t lying. From what I could tell in the limited light, the room was definitely blue.

Get in.

Get out.

Get in.

Get out.

I started walking slowly, then sped up to get it over with sooner. When I saw him, I froze in my tracks.

The casket was open.

And sure enough… it was Boyd.

He had scratches on his face, but his hair had been washed and all the mud and gunk gotten out. His eyes were shut. His face looked peaceful. And from afar, he looked like he could be taking an afternoon nap.

Except he wasn’t.

I checked his chest, keeping my eyes fixed to watch the rise and fall… rise and fall.

Nothing.

I hesitated before I stepped closer, still uneasy that he would jump up and get me.

That’s what monsters did.

I got as close as I felt comfortable, close enough to touch him if I wanted, but far enough away to run before he could crawl out of his casket to get me.

I studied his face.

He was just a boy.

Eighteen-year-old Boyd Lawrence.

A kid, really.

Someone who made so many bad decisions. Whose life was wasted because of hatred and pain and things he couldn’t control.

“Boyd…” I whispered, not wanting anyone else to know I was there. The receptionist was bad enough. “I came to see you… to say good-bye. I needed to make sure it was real and you weren’t playing some kind of joke, like you did the last time. I’m not sure which is harder—faking being paralyzed or faking being dead.”

I kept staring at his chest to see if it moved. “But you don’t seem to be faking, so I’m going to go with you are actually dead, which is sort of sad, truth be told.”

I stepped a bit closer, feeling braver. “It’s sad because you wasted your life, Boyd. I don’t believe a person should speak ill of the dead, but you wasted your life. You could have had anything you wanted — anything but me — and that killed you. Literally. You threw away your football scholarships and your future. You could have had a good life, Boyd. You could have done a lot of great things.”

I wiped away the tears that fell. I had a heart. At one time, I loved that man. I thought we’d be together the rest of our lives, and I’d be standing at his casket when we were old and gray. I never thought this would happen. Never wanted it to happen.

But it did.

And I needed to move on.

“But I guess the point is… I’m letting you go.” I placed my hand on his and shivered at how cold he was. I had to know for sure… I couldn’t have any doubts. I placed my fingers under his wrist. Nothing. No pulse and I noticed, being that close, how unnatural his face looked.

Bodies often look a bit different in a casket. Funeral homes do the best they can, but nobody looks “human” after they’ve died. The light is gone. The soul is gone. The “person” is gone. What is left is an empty shell… that’s what Boyd was now. Everything that made him evil was gone, and I was left with the shell.

The shell that could never, ever hurt me again.

I held his hand. “Boyd Lawrence. I loved you before we started dating. When you asked me out, I was the happiest girl in Chapel Hill. Then things changed. And you hurt me more than I ever thought someone could hurt me. So I’m telling you this… I don’t hate you. I don’t want to live with the hate because it’ll kill me. It’ll take the joy from my life, and I can’t do that to myself. So… I forgive you. For what you did. For what you planned to do. I forgive you.”

I rubbed my thumb over his cold knuckles. “Just know that from today on, I won’t think of you again. I won’t allow you to haunt me. I won’t think about you at all. You are dead to this world, and you are dead to me. That is the greatest gift you could have given me, and, whether you meant to or not… thank you.”

I felt my shoulders lift like a huge weight had been lifted. “Thank you.”

I turned to leave, only I couldn’t make my hand move. I pulled, but somehow it was stuck. Stuck holding Boyd’s hand. “God please… please don’t do this to me.” My heart beat out of my chest, and I started to panic. I wanted to let him go. I didn’t want to touch him anymore. I didn’t want…

“It’s time for you to leave.” A deep male voice whispered near my ear, and I jumped, pulling my hand out of Boyd’s.

I turned, expecting to see him standing there. Looking down on me. It was a trap. It had all been a trap.

When I saw him, I nearly passed out.

It wasn’t Boyd. It wasn’t someone from the funeral home.

It was my dad.

CHAPTER FORTY

Aaron

Four days later

I
HELD HER IN MY ARMS,
and it was the happiest I’d been in… I can’t remember when. We laid on the couch at my house, in my living room, watching my television.

It was good to be home.

Home.

A place I didn’t think I’d ever see again.

The sound of a pan dropping in the kitchen followed immediately by laughter made me smile. Ray and Mackenzie… bless ‘em.

Mackenzie had gotten out of the hospital two days ago, and had spent the better part of those two days trying to talk her parents into letting her come over and see Ray, or so I heard. I guess they finally gave in. I know it made Ray happy. I’d never seen him so head over heels for a girl.

Not even Sloan.

Guess they weren’t meant to be.

Points for me.

Sloan hadn’t moved in a while, and I wondered if she was sleeping. She hadn’t mentioned it to me, but I had a feeling she hadn’t slept very well lately. I used to hold her at night and help her sleep, but her mom wasn’t too thrilled about that, now that we were “serious.” Her dad either, for that matter… nor Tiffani, her dad’s new wife, who was super hot, and I hoped would have my back on this. She let me down, that Tiffani.

As far as I knew, Sloan’s parents were getting along relatively well. There hadn’t been any fights that I’d heard of, and Sloan said they were having family dinners together every night—Tiffani included. Her dad was thinking about moving back to Chapel Hill, though I wasn’t entirely sure what her mother thought about that. Or Sloan, for that matter.

She hadn’t talked much about anything.

Yeah, she’d talked. It wasn’t like she sulked all day and wore black and turned into an emo or something, not that there was anything wrong with that. But what she talked about worried me, or rather what she didn’t talk about. She never talked about Boyd. Ever. Even when I tried to mention him, she changed the subject, until I just stopped entirely.

I knew it was a bad subject for her, and I wondered if she had nightmares.

I had nightmares.

In my dreams, I saved him.

Every night.

Every time my eyes closed.

I saved him.

And every night.

In every dream.

After I saved him, he stuck a knife in my chest.

I’d been killed by that man four times already. So it was hard to feel bad about not gripping his hand hard enough.

That was a lie. I did still feel bad. I had guilt, but I’d never let Sloan know. She had her own demons.

We all did.

I kissed the top of her head, and she wiggled against me, making that primal instinct very present and very well known. I couldn’t treat her like all of the other women in my life, though. Not because she was fragile or broken. But because she was special. I wanted to treat her right. I didn’t want to force anything on her.

I wanted to be good.

I had to smile into her beautiful blonde hair.

I wanted to be good.

Aaron Hunter… the “good brother.”

No one would believe it.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Sloan

I
PRETENDED TO BE ASLEEP, BUT
in reality, I was enjoying feeling his heart beat against my back. It was comforting. Soothing. It made me feel alive. If something had happened to Aaron, I don’t know what I would have done.

I would have gone on, I supposed, but how? How can you move on from someone who loves you that much? Someone you love?

My father wasn’t entirely happy with me for loving Aaron. I was too young, he said. I didn’t know what love was, he said. Don’t make the same mistake as I did with your mother, he said. She nor I were very thrilled when he’d said that. So he shut up and for the most part, gave me his blessing with a simple “Be careful.” Not like there was any hidden meaning there.