Strip Me Bare (28 page)

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Authors: Marissa Carmel

Tags: #new adult romance, #stripper stories, #fictional relationships, #na contemporary romance

BOOK: Strip Me Bare
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“Alana?” he croaks, staring at me vacantly,
trying to decipher if I’m a mirage or truly flesh and blood.

“Sean?” I answer. My body goes numb, and it
has nothing to do with the temperature in the room. He looks like a
blood starved vampire.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks,
the question rippling with so many emotions; fear, concern, terror,
dread.

“You need to come with me,” I tell him, not
wasting any time with small talk.

“For what?” He gets to his feet and
straightens his sweatshirt, pulls up his baggy pants, then yanks
his hood over his head.

“Don’t play dumb. Ryan’s in jail, they
rejected his deal.”

Sean paces the small room like a caged cat.
Back and forth and back and forth, agitated and uptight. “I can’t
Alana, I’m sorry.”

I step towards him cautiously, “Sean, listen
to me. Ryan needs you-”

“No, Alana,” he snaps his head up and I see
so much sorrow in his eyes.

“Sean, don’t abandon him,” I plead earnestly;
careful not to spook him, “he’s already given up his future for
you, now you’re asking him to give up his life.”

Sean takes one, slow, tentative step towards
the door. “I’m so sorry, Alana,” he says with such intense grief,
it strikes my chest like lightening, shattering my heart.

“Sean-” I say trembling, circling around
him.

“For what it’s worth,” he adds quickly and
solemnly, “I never thought you were going to hurt Ryan, you really
are the only one who’s ever loved him right.” Sean’s words rattle
me straight to the core, because they sound like a goodbye. Then he
bolts.

Damn it.

I dart after him through the long, narrow
kitchen and out the back door where the sun is setting like a dying
fireball behind dull, ashy clouds. He’s so goddamn fast,
maneuvering effortlessly through the back yard that’s scattered
with old tires and junk. He scales the six-foot chain link fence at
the back end of the property and I know then that I’ve lost
him.


Sean!”
I shout slapping the fence
with my palms, the links jingling and clinking, “Sean, come
back!”

But he quickly disappears out of sight.

“Shit!” I scream, shaking the fence
furiously. Then, hopeless and defeated, I sink down onto the cold
ground, and all I want to do is fucking cry.

 

 

I drive back to my uncle’s house in a daze.
All I keep seeing are Sean’s dull, sorrowful eyes. They may be the
same shape and color as Ryan’s, but they’re nowhere near alike;
Sean’s eyes are haunted, dim and void of any light.

I pull into the driveway, a red and purple
stone path that leads up to the massive brick house. I park Emily’s
car next to my uncle’s black Mercedes truck and stare straight
ahead.

I step out of the car and into the frosty
January evening. It smells like snow and the temperature is so low
it’s cutting right through my clothes.

I walk sluggishly to the front door, but stop
when I get to the stone stairs. I sit down and drop my head into my
hands, shivering in the cold. Then the snowflakes begin to fall;
big, wet crystals that shower heavily out of the sky. I look up and
let them hit my face, flooding my eyes with the tears I can’t cry.
I try to force the emotions out, but the swell just won’t come.
Soon, my clothes are wet and my hair is covered in sparkling
flakes, but I just can’t bring myself to move.

“Alana?” I hear my uncle’s voice behind me. I
turn around; cold wet snow dotting my face. “What are you doing out
here honey?”

“Trying to cry.”

“What? Why?” He grabs two jackets and comes
outside to sit next to me. He throws a big puffy coat around me,
and then snuggles up to my side; the snow pelting down harder on
our faces.

“Because I can’t. I haven’t cried since that
Christmas mom died. And all I want is to feel better, but I can’t
cry.” I wipe some snow away from my cheek with my sleeve.

My uncle looks at me with a contrite
expression. “Alana, do you know why you can’t cry?”

I shake my head, no.

“Because you’re too strong.”

“I’m not strong,” I dispute. “I couldn’t even
help Ryan.”

“You’re helping him by being there for
him.”

“That’s not helping him. Helping him would’ve
been me convincing Sean to help him.”

“You found Sean?”

“Sort of,” I pull out the now-damp piece of
paper from my pocket with the address on it, “He ran when I
confronted him.”

My uncle takes the piece of paper and glances
down at the address, “Alana, this is one of the worst neighborhoods
in Asbury.”

“I’m a total badass,” I say dejectedly.

“Dumb-ass maybe,” my uncle jokingly contests,
“but it does establish one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Truth. Whether you believe it or not, you’re
strong.”

I look up at my uncle with chattering teeth
and woeful eyes. “Uncle John,” I say direly, “I’m really tired of
being strong.”

“I know honey.” He puts his arm around me and
I rest my head on his big chest, “But I’m going to help.”

“How?”

“I’ll put in a call to the sheriff’s
department. I’ll tell them I got a tip on Sean’s whereabouts. I’ll
drop Judge Reynolds’ name too. They’ll sniff him out.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“What if they don’t find him by next
Thursday?”

My uncle shrugs, “We’ll appeal.”

 

 

I’m sitting on a metal folding chair in the
corner of the jail’s visitor’s area. I’m dressed in a turtleneck,
puffy vest, and jeans. My hair tucked under a pink Yankee’s cap. I
keep my head down and one knee pulled into my chest as I wait
impatiently.

The room is small and filled with all sorts
of people. The diversity is staggering; there’s everyone from
mothers with their children to tattooed biker chicks, to groups of
guys who look like they belong in a frat house.

And me; the rebel princess.

The correction officer announces the visitor
door is open, and he’s no-nonsense. He’s young, with light blond
hair and a youthful face. Everyone in the room gravitates to the
left, bottlenecking into a single file to get through the metal
doorway. I’m the last one in line. I shuffle behind the crowd, my
stress level spiking from the unknown. I step into a large room
with huge glass windows, ugly yellow cement walls and little seat
dividers, each with a small stool and a hanging telephone receiver.
It reminds me of a kennel. Most of the seats are taken, but I find
an empty one in the middle of the room and sit down. There’s a low
hum of conversation as we wait for the - I’m really going to use
this term - inmates.

After a few, slow minutes, they start
shuffling in; a bunch of men in dark green scrubs and cheap slip-on
shoes. Okay, I can’t lie; I was expecting orange jump suits. I see
Ryan and my heart catapults into my throat. He doesn’t look
thrilled to see me, which is discouraging.

We both pick up the phone when he sits down.
“Hey,” I say eagerly, but he can barely look at me.

“Alana, what are you doing here?” his voice
is husky and uncomfortable.

“I wanted to see you. Give you some moral
support,” I try to say it lightly, but this whole situation is a
total downer.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he looks away
grimly.

“Ryan,” I murmur, “please look at me.”

He doesn’t turn his head, so I wait patiently
until he’s ready to draw his eyes to mine. When he finally does,
they’re full of so much pain and resentment and despair.

“I love you, and you being in here doesn’t
change that.”

He stares at me callously, and for the first
time he’s openly wearing the scars of his past.

“I found Sean,” I tell him, and his face
perks up.

“Where is he?”

“Gone, for now. But my uncle has the
sheriff’s department looking for him.”

“Where did you find him?” Ryan asks
anxiously.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Alana, you shouldn’t have gone there.”

“I shouldn’t do a lot of things, but that’s
never stopped me before.”

Ryan drops his head.

“I didn’t mean you,” I clarify lovingly.
“You’ve always been right.”

Ryan lifts his eyes and they’re cloudy with
tears. “You’ve been the only good thing in my entire life,” he says
and my heart separates.

“Then please don’t shut me out.”

“I don’t know what else to do. It’s over. My
fate is sealed.” He runs a hand through his hair defeated. “I’ve
always known I’d end up here.”

“It’s not over yet. I still have one card
left to play.”

“What are you talking about?” He cocks his
head up with the receiver to his ear.

“If they can’t find Sean, I’m going to talk
to my father.”

“Alana, don’t you dare.” He sits up straight.
“Don’t you dare throw your life away because of me.”

“It’s no kind of life without you,” I respond
meekly.

“There has to be another way. We can appeal?
Right?”

I shake my head sadly, “Ryan the evidence
against you is overwhelming. The decision will never get
overturned.”

“So how is you talking to your father going
to help me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I can appeal to his
emotional side,” I say sardonically.

Ryan just shakes his head feverishly, “Alana
it’s over, just let it go.”

He’s completely given up.

But I just can’t accept that.

“Ryan, listen to me. Don’t get sucked down
into a pit. I need you.”

“Need me, for what? I’m stuck in here. What
can I possible give you now?”

“Strength.”

“What?”

“Strength. Your strength is my strength,” I
say ardently. “Do you remember when we first met, how closed off I
was? It drove you crazy.”

“I remember.”

“Do you remember what you told me?”

He pauses, his blue eyed stare getting lost
in the memory. “That showing emotion isn’t weakness, it’s
strength.”

I nod my head, “You changed my entire life
that day, and I don’t even think you realized it. I never meant to
fall in love with you, but I liked who I was when I was with you. I
like who I am now. And it’s because of you. So please, stay strong
so I can be strong.”

“I don’t want you losing everything,” he
says, his eyes piercing.

“It’s going to happen regardless,” I grip the
receiver tighter. “The question is, are you going to be the one who
picks up the pieces when it does?”

“I want to be.”

“I want you to be too.” I put my hand on the
glass and a buzzer suddenly goes off. Visiting hours are over.

Ryan puts his hand to mine; one, thin,
maddening piece of transparent solid separating us. Not being able
to touch him is agony. I just want to punch through the goddamn
window and grab him. Hold him, hug him and tell him everything is
going to be okay.

Even when we know it’s not.

I watch as the correction officers herd him
and the other inmates away; all of them blending together like a
green-clad mob, Ryan vanishing from my sight.

As I stand there, I feel unexpectedly
cold.

It’s exactly what I felt when I watched Sean
disappear.

And suddenly I’m alone, powerless, and want
to fucking cry all over again.

 

 

 

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