Secret Storm (15 page)

"Whoa. TMI." David moved away and picked up
his drink again. Apparently he didn't care that much.

"I'm sorry, but I need to talk to someone and
you're here so...."

"I'm here for whatever you need." He reached
over and touched her face again, sliding his hand into her hair. He
tipped her head back and his lips came down toward hers, but she
braced her hand on his chest and stared at him.

For a brief moment, all the good times and
good sex came flooding back—David's hand on her skin, his lips on
her neck, his body on hers. They'd been happy together, once. Maybe
she'd let him go too easily. Could they get it back? Did she want
it back? She looked into his eyes and stopped. Where she'd once
seen warm affection, she now saw cold calculation. He didn't give a
damn about her or Jack. He just wanted her back and would do
whatever it took—even pretending to care.

Jack never pretended. He actually listened to
her.

She stepped away from him, moving toward the
door. "I have what I need."

"Then let the past go."

"I can't let it go."
Not yet.
"I need
to trust him."

"But you can't."

"Yes I can." She hated acting defensive, but
hearing him say she couldn't trust Jack made her want to lash out.
"He'll never hurt me—not like you did."

"That was cold."

"But it's true."
Still no apology.

"That affair was a one-time thing. I never
wanted it to go that far." Panic filled his eyes.

More excuses—the same excuses. "I've heard
that before."

"It's over with Michelle."

Michelle
? "Wasn't her name Megan?"

"Um...." He swallowed his drink in a hurry,
hiding behind the upturned glass.

It was
never
a one-time thing.
"She wasn't the only one." He'd played her for a fool, taking
advantage of their long-distance relationship. Now the extent of
her foolishness became painfully clear.

"Michelle was just a friend, I swear."

"You are such a liar."

"All men lie, even your precious Jack."

"He never—only once—but he did it to protect
me."
Do I really believe that or am I protecting Jack?

"That's the biggest lie of all."

"You're home early." Austin sat up, shielding
his eyes as Jack walked in and flipped on the light. Jane buried
her face in her boyfriend's shoulder.

"It's early?" Jack looked at his watch but
the numbers didn't register. He hadn't seen his friends sprawled
out on the couch watching a movie. Didn't matter. The less he
noticed, the better. He kind of liked being in a haze—numb and
dull.
Yeah, that's it. Feel nothing and stay that way.

Somehow, he wandered into the kitchen. He
opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer, then shuffled back
to the living room and dropped down onto the recliner. The bottle
let out a warning hiss when he broke the seal.

"Jack, no!" Jane jumped up and tried to
snatch the bottle from him.

"What are you doing?" Austin eyed the
beer.

"What does it look like?"
You'd think
they'd never seen me drink before. Oh... right.

"Jack, don't," Jane pleaded. "You've been
sober all this time. Don't give up now."

"Sober? Oh, sweet Janie." He laughed. "Thank
you for caring, but I'm not an alcoholic. I've never had a drop of
alcohol in my life." He raised the bottle to her. "Until now."

He drank half the bottle in one swallow, and
it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
How appropriate.
"I
could get used to this."

"What happened?" Austin said.

"Nothing."

"Yeah right. If my dad couldn't drive you to
drink, then yours must have." Austin watched his face, but Jack
revealed nothing. "One way or another."

"Nope."

"Sara then."

He finished off his beer and got another one.
"I hope you have more of this stuff."

"I have plenty."

"Good. I need it."

"Why?" Jane asked.

"Because I am going to get hammered."

She moved in front of the fridge. "You
shouldn't—"

He pulled her aside. "Don't tell me what I
should or shouldn't do. I don't have to tell you anything I don't
want to."
Wait... who am I talking to?

She looked at Austin, who'd followed him into
the kitchen. "So you want to get drunk, huh?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Then you're gonna need something stronger."
He opened up a cabinet and took down a couple of shot glasses and a
bottle of scotch.

"What are you doing?" Jane hissed.

He poured a shot for Jack and then one for
him. "Here's to—"

"Nothing." Jack picked up the glass and
tossed it back. The liquor went down smooth, burning slow and
strong. He reached for the bottle and wobbled, catching himself on
the kitchen table.
Whoa. Nice kick.
That's what his lousy
excuse for a father had lived for. "I like this. What is it?"

"Glen Livet 21. My dad bought it for me when
I turned twenty-one. Told me to save it for a special
occasion."

"This is a special occasion?" Jane raised an
eyebrow.

"I think he needs it more than I do."

"Damn straight. Pour me another."

"You got it."

"Pour some for me too." Jane reached for the
bottle.

"Really?" Her boyfriend pulled it back.

"Give the girl what she wants." Jack found
another shot glass and slapped it on the table.

She huffed. "If the alcohol virgin can handle
it, I'm sure I can."

"Okay." Austin poured three shots and they
all drank together.

Jane shuddered. "Eww."

"More."

Austin shook his head but he poured his
friend another round with a steady hand. "Talk to me, man."

"No." Jack downed his scotch. "I've had it
with talking."

"What did she say when you told her?"

"Told who what?"

"You didn't tell her?"

He downed another shot, his head swimming.
"Who told what to who... whom? Huh?"

Austin took the glass away. "You were
supposed to tell Sara everything."

"Really?"

Austin rolled his eyes. "You didn't tell
her."

"How am I supposed to tell anyone anything
when I don't know what the hell you're talking about?" He tapped
the table in front of him. "Keep it coming."

"If you say so." Austin poured another
round.

"Ooo... I'm dizzy." Jane stumbled to the
couch and lay down. "Goodnight, boys."

"Who's the alcohol virgin now?" Jack
laughed.

"Okay, let me guess. Sara thinks you should
go to the funeral on Tuesday, and she got pissed when you wouldn't
tell her why you won't go."

Jack blinked and rubbed his hand over his
eyes, but his roommate still looked blurry. "How did you know
that?"

"Your mom called me. She's worried about
you."

He scowled and snatched the bottle from
Austin's hand. "Why are all these women worried about me? Mom,
Sara, even Jane." He took a swig straight from the bottle,
obviously not drunk enough if he could still feel angry. "Why do
any of them give a shit about me?"

Austin counted on his fingers. "One, she's
your mother. Two, Janie's your friend. And Sara—"

"Don't talk about her."

"Sara would love you if you'd let her."

"Why? Why would anyone love me?"

Austin opened his mouth to argue, but Jack
kept ranting, drinking and stumbling. "The men in my family—all
they do is hurt people. Hurt women. My
father
—" He spit the
word out like a vile, disgusting thing. "—hurt my mother so bad she
ran away from him. Afraid. And I couldn't protect—"

He took a big drink from the bottle, swaying
as he tipped his head back. "I drove Sara away. I made her cry.
Have you ever seen her cry?" He looked up, but he didn't wait for
an answer. "She's the strongest person I know and I... made her
cry."

He staggered to the recliner and fell into
it.

Austin sat on the couch, picking up Jane's
feet and draping them over his legs. "If she's that strong,
couldn't she handle knowing everything?"

"Everything except what I did."

Jack's stomach turned over.
Damn it, I'm
not supposed to feel that.
He started to take another swig, but
Austin grabbed the bottle.

"Hey."

"I'm cutting you off."

"Ashshole."

"You're gonna hate yourself in the
morning."

"I already do." He dropped his head in his
hands and almost fell out of the chair. "She said she couldn't be
with me. Not ever."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, I'm a sorry shonofabitch. Give
me that shcotch."

His pain-in-the-ass roommate kicked the
bottle under the couch.

"That was unnecshesshary."

"You're pathetic."

"Thanks." He groaned. "I needed that."

"Yeah you do. If I had a girl like Sara—"

"You did have her."

"Okay, forget that. When I met Janie, I
almost lost her because I was too stupid to see through my pathetic
excuses and stop being afraid of my past. You're not that much
different from me—"

"I am nothing like you."

"You're an idiot just like I was."

"Wow. Jane said you wouldn't call me an
idiot."

"I call you an idiot all the time."

"Yeah, but you never mean it."

"Well, this time you deserve it. Stop being
stupid and tell Sara what she needs to hear."

"I told her I love her."

Austin shook his head. "That's not it."

"She didn't believe me anyway." Her rejection
had driven him to drink.

"You have to be honest with her."

He tried to focus on his friend's blurry
face. "I was."

"Really? I'm done having this conversation.
You know what you need to do to get her back, so I'm not gonna tell
you again."

"I can't—"

"Bullshit. But you won't listen to me—or the
girls. I think you need to hear it from someone else, but I don't
know who."

He blinked hard, fighting back memories that
threatened to knock him on his ass. "I can't tell her what I did.
It's too—"

"I think Sara can handle it."

He shook his head.
Whoa. Don't do that
again.
"I don't know, man."

"There's one way to find out."

"I don't want to risk losing her."

"Haven't you already?"

"What?"
Have I already lost her?
The
whole night blurred into one big fat mistake.

"Think about that." Austin picked Jane up off
the couch and carried her to his bedroom.

Think?
"I don't want to think." He
didn't want to listen either. "You all need to listen to me for
oncshe. It'sh my turn to talk." But the silence of the empty room
mocked him.

The only person who really wanted to listen
had walked away from him. "She can't run from a texsht." He picked
up his phone and tried to type a message, but his drunken thumbs
mashed the keys, fumbling his words.

"Fuck it," he mumbled as he pressed the
buttons to call her. "Damn voishe mail." But he didn't know what
he'd say if she answered.

"Hey Sharra. It's Jack. Yeah, you know that.
I needa...."
Think.
"I need to tell you.... Don't tell her
on the phone, dumbass." He slapped his hand over his swimming eyes,
wondering why the hell he'd called her. "Austin told me I need to
think about that. Everything. But I don't want to. Remember...
hurts too much." Bile rose in his throat, but he choked it back. "I
can't. I need...."

Something. Her? Good God.
He needed
her so much he couldn't stand it. Could he say that? A beep sounded
in his ear, cutting him off.
Piece of shit phone.

Jack sat alone in the spinning room, holding
his head while his stomach churned. He thought about fishing the
bottle out from under the couch, but when he tried to get up, he
stumbled forward and fell face first on the floor, just missing the
coffee table.

Damn
.
How did Prentiss ever manage
to land a punch in this condition?
He didn't even consider
trying to get up. The hard stable floor felt oddly comforting, and
stability had eluded him so often he took it where he could find
it.

Think about that
, Austin had said, but
he couldn't remember what he was supposed to think. Something to do
with Sara. Something to do with what he'd once done.

No.
Don't think about that.

His brain went black.

***

I was trying to protect you.

Sara's heart dropped, plummeting down, down,
down....

When would she hit bottom? When would she
start the slow, arduous climb back up—

I'm trying to protect you, Sara.

—only to plunge again?

How many times had she heard those words from
Jack? She sat in her car, silent except for the engine hum. The
dashboard lights cast an eerie glow on her arms as she stared into
the parking lot in front of her apartment building.

Believing him would be so easy. He wanted to
protect her from whatever caused him so much pain. How noble, how
heroic....

"That's the biggest lie of all."

"What?"

"He's protecting his own ass. Whatever his
secret is, telling you the truth will hurt him more than it'll hurt
you."

"I don't believe you."

"Doesn't matter. When I lied to you about
Michelle, Megan, and all the others, I was just looking out for
me."

"Jack isn't that selfish."

"Even I can tell this is hurting you. If he
really cared about you, he'd come clean."

"He does care."

"He knows you know he's lying?"

"Yes."

"What does that tell you?"

David's words had rung in her ears as she
drove home. She couldn't answer. From the moment they'd met, she'd
known he wanted her. Aside from Jane, he'd been her closest friend
for the past three years. She'd never had to wonder if he
cared.