Secret Storm (9 page)

"What am I supposed to feel?" He forced his
face into a neutral expression. "Do you want me to get pissed off
and out of control like you are?"

"Oh, so
I'm
out of control now. Nice.
Turn this against me."

"I'm not trying to turn this against you. I'm
trying to protect you."

"Protect me? From what?"

"You have no idea what I've been
through—"

"Then tell me."

"—or what I'm capable of." He hadn't meant to
let that slip, but he couldn't stop it.

"What you're...?" Her blue eyes widened.

He shook his head and turned away from her.
"I can't... just let it go. It's over now."
Am I talking to
myself or to her?

"Please, I want to help you. I
need
to
help you."

"No."

"So that's it then? No explanation. No
apology. Just no."

"Sara...." He reached for her, but she backed
away. He wanted to tell her.
Good God, I need to tell her. But
what will she think of me if she knows? Will she be afraid of
me?
"I can't."

Sara held up her hand, then grabbed her car
keys and ran out the front door into the storm.

***

She was still wearing his shirt when she got
home.
Oh God, I left my clothes in his bedroom.
Well, she
had an excuse to see him again, but did she want to? Did he want to
see her? Maybe she should just let it go like he'd told her to. Or
had he been talking about himself? It was over now, he'd said. Did
that mean
they
were over?

Damn it! Too many questions.

She tossed her car keys and they landed
somewhere in the kitchen. She had to calm down so she could think
straight.

Pissed off and out of control.
Jack
had been right about that, but no way would she tell him so. She
took off his wet shirt and hung it in the bathroom to drip dry.
That hadn't gone at all as planned; he should've been the one
taking it off her.

She crawled into bed and listened to the
thunder rumble softly as the storm moved away. The rain stopped and
the apartment turned quiet. In the silence she heard someone—either
Austin or Jane—get up and walk into the bathroom. Then she heard an
amused masculine chuckle. Austin.

Oh God.
Jack's shirt was hanging over
the tub.
That'll be fun to explain.

Sara stayed in bed and watched the room
lighten as sunlight crept across her wall, highlighting the many
photos she'd collected over the years. The one of her and Jane and
Austin and Jack had been taken last fall after a football game. The
guys wore their sweaty, dirty uniforms, big grins on their faces.
They must have won that game. Jane and Austin had their arms around
each other, and while Jack stood next to Austin, his eyes were
locked on Sara.

She got out of bed and took a closer look at
the photo, studying Jack's expression. His eyes touched her with
gentle affection and a hint of longing. She knew that look
well.

Tonight—last night—should have ended
differently. They should have been wrestling around in bed instead
of wrestling each other for control of their relationship—or
whatever was getting in the way of a relationship. Outside
conflicts used to keep them apart, but something deeper wedged
between them now. She took the picture off the wall and crawled
back into bed, slipping the frame under her pillow, and hiding
under the covers until the lovebirds left.

She decided to skip her morning class. Jack
would be there, and she couldn't deal with him yet. She wanted to
see him look at her like he had in the picture, but last night his
face had been hard and cold. She never wanted to see that
again.

The clock showed nearly noon when she finally
got out of bed. She took a quick shower and gathered her books,
focusing on what she needed to do to get through the day. She had
nestled into the couch, trying to study, when the front door
opened.

Jane walked in. "Did you just get up?"

"I've been awake for hours, but yeah, I just
got out of bed."

"Wow." Jane lowered herself into the
overstuffed chair next to the couch, her eyes hooded with concern.
"Was that Jack's shirt in the bathroom?"

"Yes." She flipped through her notes,
avoiding her friend's eyes.

Jane waited, but not for long. "Are you going
to make me ask?"

"Yes."

"Did Jack tell you?"

"Tell me what?" She finally looked up.
Does she know something?
Maybe she could get it out of Jane
if she asked the right questions.

"Did he tell you... what happened... when
he...?" Her friend wrung her hands as if she couldn't decide which
was worse: keeping the secret to herself, or making Sara miserable
by telling her.

"He told me...."
Not a damn thing.
She
couldn't even think of a lie to convince Jane she already knew.
"Nothing."

"Oh." Jane stuck her hands between her
knees.

"What do you know?"

She sighed and chewed her lip. "Everything.
Austin told me last night."

"And?"

"And I think you should hear it from Jack."
She twisted her hands again.

"Yeah, you'd think so, but he's not
talking."

Jane shook her head. "Austin made me promise
not to tell you."

She slammed her book shut. "Why is everyone
keeping secrets from me?"

Her friend reached for her, but Sara
recoiled. "We're not...."

"Are
you
trying to protect me, too?"
She threw her books in her bag. "I'm a big girl. I can handle
whatever Jack's hiding from me." And that's what pissed her off the
most. She really didn't care what happened in the past. The fact
that he wouldn't trust her with it hurt more than anything
else.

"I wish I could tell you, but this is
something he needs to tell you himself."

Sara grabbed her bag. One of the handles
ripped loose and it tipped, spilling her books and notes all over
the floor. She groaned and chucked the useless bag across the room.
"I'm not even going to bother."

She grabbed the book she needed and slammed
out of the house, taking the long way to class to avoid any
possible encounter with Jack.

***

"Hey Jane!" Jack ran to catch up with her
before she disappeared into the library. "Is Sara all right? She
missed class this morning. I'm worried about her."

"Oh are you?" Her eyes narrowed.

An icy chill rattled his spine. He'd never
seen her this cold. "Yeah, we talked last night, but—"

"That's not what she said."

Oh. Right.
Sara had done most of the
talking—or yelling. "I don't want to talk about it."
Why won't
anyone listen to me?

"I think you should." She crossed her arms
over her chest, holding her book in front of her like battle armor.
He had to give her credit for standing her ground and facing him
down.

"Austin told you, didn't he?"

"He doesn't keep secrets from me."

"He doesn't keep secrets from anyone. Damn
it, I'm gonna...." He smashed his fist into his palm before he
realized what he'd done. Austin obviously trusted Jane with his
secret. Could Jack trust her too? "Please don't tell Sara."

"Oh, I won't. She needs to hear it from
you."

"Yeah, I knew you were gonna say that."

Her eyes softened and she touched his arm.
"I'm sorry you had to go through all that. I can't imagine how much
it hurt."

Jack didn't have to imagine. "Thank you."
Did Austin tell her everything?

"I think Sara should know."

"Why? Everyone keeps telling me what I should
do, but no one can give me a reason why."

"Jack, I care about you, but I'm not going to
coddle you like Austin does. I'll tell you things he won't."

"Like what?"

"You're an idiot."

Jack laughed. "He tells me that all the
time."

"You want to know why you should tell
Sara?"

"Give me one good reason."
This ought to
be good.
He smiled, confident nothing she could say would—

"Because you're hurting her."

What?
Jack crumbled.
No. I would
never hurt Sara.

"I know Sara. The tougher and bitchier she
is, the more she's in pain."

His hard heart suddenly ached, remembering
how tough Sara had been last night. "I didn't know."

"No, you probably didn't, because you're too
busy being stubborn. Austin thinks you're protecting her, and I'm
sure you do too, but when are you guys going to figure out we're
stronger than you think? You're both idiots."

What if he told Sara? What if he told her
everything and then—? "I don't want her to be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you." Jane stood up
straight and looked him in the eye. "And yes, Austin told me how
you got that scar on your stomach. Trust her or she'll never trust
you. Is that what you want?"

"No." The need to tell her overwhelmed his
control again. Keeping his secret was hurting Sara. That thought
ripped him apart. "Where is she?"

Jane glanced at her watch. "She's in class
right now, but she'll be home in an hour or so."

"Don't go home tonight. Go see Austin and
stay there."

Sara couldn't run away from him at her own
house. That wouldn't stop her from kicking his ass out the door...
but he'd worry about that later.

"Jack," Jane called as he ran off.

He turned but kept moving.

"Let her in."

He nodded and took off, his heart pounding.
He could end Sara's pain, tell her what she needed to know. He just
hoped he would have the strength, and that it would be enough.

Sara peered through the peephole after the
knock on the door. She breathed a heavy sigh and turned the knob.
"I went out of my way all day to avoid you, but here you are."

Jack smiled uncertainly. "There's no escaping
me."

She knew he was flirting, trying to make her
want him again, but it wouldn't work. "Get in here."
Wait—don't
I mean get out?

His smiled brightened. "I found your clothes
in my room."

"Thanks." She took them and tossed them onto
the coffee table, debating whether she should ask him to sit down.
He looked so pathetic standing there with an awkward smile on his
face. She knew she couldn't force him to talk, but maybe she could
prompt him a little. "Is there something else you wanted?"

"Yeah. I uh...." He ran his hand through his
hair. "We need to talk."

"Oh. That can't be good."

"That's not what I meant." He sighed and
lowered himself onto the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and
hanging his head.

She sat down beside him, keeping a friendly
distance. He looked completely defeated, something she'd never seen
in him before. He was always so strong.

He lifted his head, the playful light that
normally danced in his eyes clouded by a rolling black storm.
"There are some things you need to know about me. Bad things I've
never told anyone about. Austin only knows because he witnessed it.
He helped me through it. I owe him my life."

Words failed her. What could she say... or
ask... or...? "I'm listening."

He gave her a small smile and tried to sit up
straight, but whatever he wanted to tell her pressed his shoulders
down. "He beat my mom and me. Mostly my mom. He drank too much and
he hit her. He hit me when I tried to protect her. I was too little
to help much. We finally got away from him when I was in the third
grade. He drove us out of our own home. My mom and I lived in fear
that he would find us, until...." He put a shaking hand over his
face. "Until she told me he was dead."

"Yesterday? When she called you?"

"Yeah. She's going to the funeral, and thinks
I should go too." His eyebrows drew together, and he pinched the
bridge of his nose. "Something about closure."

"Do you want closure?"

"No. I closed the door on him a long time
ago." His lips made a firm line and his jaw clenched, teeth
grinding.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Is that why you don't drink? Because your
father—" She stopped when Jack cringed at the word 'father.'
"Because
he
hit you when he was drinking?"

"When I was little, I blamed his drinking. He
was always drunk when he hurt us, so I thought if I took his beer
away, he wouldn't. Boy, was I wrong."

"Drinking is usually a symptom of a larger
problem."

"Yeah, like being an asshole. I
choose
not to drink. I won't ever lose control like he did."

"Did he ever get treatment?"

"Not by choice."

That's an odd answer.
Something about
Jack's story didn't make sense, but she couldn't put her finger on
it. "How did you get away from him?"

"My grandparents, his parents, snuck us out
of the hospital one night while he was locked up in detox. Took us
to a shelter."

"They knew?"

"Not at first, but when he claimed me and my
mom fell down the stairs on the same day, they couldn't deny it any
longer. It hurt them to know their son was a monster."

"He hurt a lot of people."

"Not anymore." His grim smile sent chills
down her spine.

"Are you sure?" She fought back a shiver of
fear and moved closer to him.

"What does that mean?"

"He's still hurting you."

His eyes flashed and his lip curled. "I'm
not—"

"Stop trying to deny it."

"The past is behind me."

"He's hurting
us
." She reached out and
touched his rigid arm.

Jack flinched, denial written on his face,
but when he looked at her, his controlled mask slipped back into
place. "I know." He laid his hand on hers and squeezed it. "I don't
ever want anything to hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you last
night, but I just couldn't.... I wanted to protect you."