Take Me On (14 page)

West

The thought hits me as I’m halfway up the trellis that this is the first time I’ve snuck into a girl’s room and oddly enough, it isn’t to hook up.

I’m too heavy for the rotting wood, so I work quickly and quietly up the tangle of decaying vines. Haley left the window open and I climb in, shut it behind me, then slide off my coat. I straighten and swallow the curse when pain shoots through the top of my head. I’m too damn tall for the ceiling.

Haley was drill-sergeant strict on her orders of no noise. She threw out a lot of instructions and the wide-eyed fear on her face kept me from asking questions. The girl was serious. Very serious. With temperatures threatening to drop below zero and wind chills in the negative double digits, I wasn’t in the position to play.

A lamp on the floor highlights a portion of the cramped attic. Most of the space is filled with varying sizes of cardboard boxes heaped one on top of the other. A fake Christmas tree with tinsel still hanging from the branches is shoved between the wall and a collapsed pile of mounted deer heads.

On the floor next to my feet is a blow-up mattress with a blue daisy-printed comforter. Haley’s backpack leans against the mattress and an old green chair appears to serve as her dresser as piles of her clothes are stacked neatly upon it. I catch sight of black underwear and a bra. Both have a layer of lace along the seam and damn if I don’t go hard.

The door on the other side of the attic creeps open. I duck into the shadows, then reappear when Haley enters with a plate and cup in hand. She uses a foot to close the door with a snap and her hips sway as she crosses the space to reach me.

Without meeting my eyes, she rests the plateful of food and the cup on the floor next to a clock radio. “It’s not much, but I’ve got a heater and walls.”

“It’s great.” It’s great she’s obviously breaking rules to give me a place to crash.

Haley realigns the comforter and fluffs the lone pillow. “This isn’t my house. It’s my uncle’s. We’re staying here for a bit. I used to have a room, like a real room with stuff, but, you know, this is temporary...”

She continues in the same forced cheery tone as she refolds a couple of shirts and her cheeks turn red when she spots the same underwear set. Haley rattles on about temporary and how they’ll have a real home again soon and after she strategically plants a pair of jeans over her private garments, I snag a finger through one of her belt loops and drag her closer.

Haley stops midsentence and her dark eyes widen. Her fingers grasp another pair of jeans she was in the process of refolding. If it weren’t for the damn things, her body would be touching mine. “I don’t care. I live in a car. You live in an attic. There’s no judgment here.”

She sags and, for a few seconds, Haley is the most pliant she’s been since I met her. I take advantage of it by letting my hands form to her hips and nudge her in my direction. She allows it, releases the jeans and drops her forehead to my shoulder. “We live with my uncle—Jax’s dad. We lost our home six months ago.”

My hands move up her back and I engulf her into my body. Haley answers by wrapping her arms around my waist. Through my shirt, I can sense her cold fingers, but the rest of her is warm. Extremely warm. She relaxes into me and lays her cheek against my chest.

There’s a peace in this moment—a settling in my soul. Like I’ve been searching for home and finally found it. Tired of fighting the urge, I run my fingers through the ends of her silky hair. “It’s okay.” We’re okay.

“It’s not,” she whispers. “Living here isn’t okay.”

We stay like that, holding each other. I think of Isaiah at the hospital the night Rachel was hurt. His two friends held him up and I wonder if that’s how Haley and I would look. Am I holding her together as much as she’s keeping me from falling apart?

With a sigh, Haley untangles herself from my body and sends me a shy smile. “Sorry. I don’t tell people that or bring them here. It’s just hard.”

“I get it.” And if she’s sharing secrets, I can spill mine. “You’re the only person who knows I’ve been kicked out and that I’ve been living in my car.”

Haley’s forehead wrinkles as she lifts the plate. “Really?”

Well... “Abby knows.”

She sits on the floor and motions for me to join her. The moment I’m beside her, she picks up a strip of thinly cut meat, then hands the plate to me. “Here. FYI, it’s deer meat.”

My stomach growls. I haven’t seen a decent meal that didn’t include a fast-food wrapper in a week. Along with the strips of meat is a helping of mash potatoes and green beans. Who knew I’d miss vegetables? As much as my mouth waters, I can’t. “This is your dinner.”

“And yours,” she answers. “I’ve been hungry before. I wouldn’t wish that on people I hated, much less those I like. I would have brought more up, but my uncle is a serving size Nazi.”

I consider arguing, but the hollowness of hunger wins. I’ll take some, but the majority of it will be hers. The taste of deer is different than what I expected, a little like beef, but not.

Haley watches me intently and places the plate on our joined legs. “You’ve never had deer before, have you?”

When she reaches for another piece, I do, too. “How can you tell?”

“Your expression. It’s like when I used to watch my younger sister try baby food for the first time. Your face squishes up because it’s new and then it goes blank as you try to decide if you liked it or not. What do you think?”

“I’m eating it.”

She giggles and the sound warms my blood. “I’ve eaten crap that looked like someone puked. Eating it and liking it are two different things.”

I savor my second piece a little longer. “It’s good. Though I’d probably enjoy it more if Bambi wasn’t watching. Has that cannibalistic feel. Is your uncle gun crazy?”

“Crazy, yes, but he’s not a militant gun guy or anything. He likes to hunt, and so do my dad and brother. I tried it once, but I suck at it and it’s boring. Dad likes deer season and goes turkey hunting occasionally. My uncle hunts everything and he expects everyone to eat it. What’s up with you and Abby?”

Nice abrupt change in subject. Haley eats half of the green beans, then passes the fork to me. Something tugs inside me, at my heart. It’s strange and I like it.

“She’s my sister’s best friend,” I say between bites. “Abby and I tolerate each other.”

“You’re kidding? I thought maybe she was making that up.”

“I wish. Rachel’s not like Abby. She’s sweet and kind and...” In the hospital. Using a pay phone, I call the hospital every day and, because I’m family, they give me an update, but there’s only so much I can gather between “still in the ICU” and “condition appears to be improving.” My throat swells and I return the plate to Haley. “I miss her.”

Haley scoops up some potatoes and grants me a reprieve. Silence with her is never uncomfortable. She picks up the cup and I watch her delicate throat move as she swallows. Haley hands it to me and her eyes hold mine as I drink. The water is cold against my mouth, but every other part of me heats.

The wind blasts the house and the window rattles. Hail begins to pelt the siding.

“Where did you park your car?” she asks.

“At the strip mall.” That was one of Haley’s instructions—the car couldn’t be left anywhere near the house.

“Sorry.” She’s referring to the thousands of tiny dents I’ll find on my car in the morning.

“It’s fine. At least I’m not in it.” The space heater clicks on and the metal wires glow red. We both stare at it, like it’s a fireplace. I can almost imagine it: Haley and I at a lodge in the Smoky Mountains, relaxing after a day of skiing and snuggling near a warm fire. I could have offered her that a couple of weeks ago. Now I’ve got nothing more than my word.

“Why were you kicked out?” she asks.

It seemed clear when it happened. I was mad. Dad was mad. I hated him and he was wrong. Dad obviously felt the same way. But night after night, alone and cold, the replay of the fight between us distorts and the blame shifts. “Someone made fun of my sister and I hit them.”

“So your family threw you out?”

“Yeah... No.” I inhale, then let the air out. “My dad and I don’t get along. We haven’t for years. My sister was in a bad accident and she’s in the hospital and he blames me.”

Haley puts the plate on the floor and kneels beside me. “Were you driving?”

“No. Dad was, but I was the reason why Rachel was where she was at. She was in trouble and needed money and if it wasn’t for me...” How do I explain my messed-up family? “I let Rach down. I let my whole family down.”

She weaves her fingers through mine, but my hand remains limp on the floor. “Have you ever thought they let you down?”

There’s a pain inside me that’s worse than an ache. It’s continual and I’ve fought it night after night. “I failed.”

“I may not understand everything going on with you, but I can’t imagine failing at anything that’s worth being thrown out over. Whatever it is, it’s not your fault.”

“It is.” My fingers tighten around hers, hating the truth, hating that Haley persistently sees my weaknesses. “I promise I won’t fail you.”

“I know you won’t.” She tilts her head and the dull lamplight creates a halo around her hair. Haley is gorgeous and strong and kind and she’s more than I deserve. “It’s late and I’ve got to be up early. We should sleep.”

I nod and join Haley as she stands. She flitters her hand at a pair of pajama bottoms and I turn to give her the privacy she needs. The sound of cotton shifting off her body makes me close my eyes. If I turn, would she be naked? I imagine her beautiful curves.

“Okay.” She wears pink flannel bottoms and a matching tank top. Her hair falls over her nearly bare shoulders. Talk about breathtaking.

Haley crawls onto the bed and lifts the comforter up as if inviting me in.

“I can take the floor.”

“Well, you are my boyfriend.” The tease in her voice causes me to chuckle. The window rattles again and the gust penetrates the frame. “I don’t have another blanket or pillow and the temperature will drop up here. Besides...I trust you, West.”

I flip off the lamp and the space heater follows with a click, leaving us in the dark. The air mattress dips with my weight and I take my time unlacing my shoes and slipping them off.

Thank God it’s not a twin mattress or we’d be on top of each other—literally. Haley lies beside me, curtain-rod straight, and I knot my hands over my stomach. At home, I slept in my boxers. Because of the past two weeks, I’m getting used to sleeping with everything on.

“Where are you going to stay tomorrow?” she asks into the darkness.

“I don’t know.”

Under the covers, her fingers find mine and I clutch hers with both hands. There’s something intimate about lying here with Haley. Maybe it’s because I’ve been alone, but honestly, it’s her. Sleeping in my car, I’ve had a lot of time to think and even though the silence is new, the loneliness isn’t. How is it possible to have been surrounded by people and never feel complete?

“This is a huge risk for me,” she says. “If we get caught, my uncle would throw my entire family out onto the street. I wish I could offer you more than tonight.”

Lacing our fingers together, I tug on her hand until she allows me to move it up and out of the warmth of the blanket. Not knowing or understanding why, I kiss her hand. The skin is smooth and tastes sweet, just like her constant smell of flowers. My lips linger much longer than needed, and then I guide her palm back to my chest, right next to my beating heart.

Haley

My mouth goes dry. No one has kissed me since Matt. No one kissed me before Matt. I avoid thoughts of kisses and of dating and of boyfriends and relationships, because the last time didn’t work out so well. But Matt never kissed me like that, not even when I gave him my virginity.

Never did he kiss me in such a way that my insides bloomed, or in a way that I saw color in darkness, or in a way that made me want to kiss anyone back like how West kissed me. It wasn’t even on the lips; it was on my hand. I inhale deeply to calm my breathing. Just wow.

“Will you tell me what happened?” West rolls, and, even in the darkness, I sense him staring at me.

I stiffen and my head pops up. “What?”

“With your family. Will you tell me how you ended up here?”

“Oh, yeah.” I sink back into the mattress. For a second, I thought he was asking about me and Matt. “My dad was an engineer and my mom stayed at home. He was laid off a year ago last Christmas. There was some unemployment and some savings, but we got behind on everything and my younger sister had an emergency appendectomy and then we found out the insurance had lapsed and everything turned into a huge mess. Dad couldn’t find a job. Then he got depressed and whatever dollar store job he did take, he couldn’t keep. We lost everything.”

My hand slams against the air mattress, the anger still as fresh as it was when I found out. I pull on my hand and West lets me go. “It’s... I hate them, you know? My dad worked at that company for twenty years and, poof, they decide it’s cheaper to move to Mexico.”

There’s silence from West. I’m probably freaking him out. I cover my face with my hands. Oh, God, that was too much information. He scratches the top of his head and asks, “Who did your dad work for?”

“It was a small factory, bought and sold many times. I think the last name they had was Sillgo.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and by the tone in his voice I can tell he takes it personally.

“It’s not like it’s your fault. It’s what people do, they buy and they sell companies not caring that souls are involved. They only see profit margins and they never think about the families. I often wonder how much my family and the other families were worth. I mean, are we different from animals on an auction block?”

The heater clicks on again and part of me wishes West never brought up my family. I’m tired of being angry. I wish he was still holding my hand, but then again, that would mean me falling for a fighter and that can’t happen.

Flipping to my side, I turn away from West and try to create space between us. I told him I trusted him. I do, but I obviously shouldn’t trust myself.

“Haley...” He hesitates.

Silences seem longer in darkness. I think it’s because it’s harder to lie when the lights are off. There’s a rawness that only belongs to the night and the truth can’t help but be set free.

“Yes?”

“I hate to ask, but I need to know. What are the shelters like?”

I fold into myself, absolutely crushed. My dirty secret isn’t such a secret after all. “Did Jessica tell you?”

She knew because her mother had volunteered her to work the shelter’s kitchen one day as a punishment for stealing money out of her purse. I can’t begin to express the utter embarrassment and horror I felt the moment our eyes met over a tray of scalloped potatoes.

“Yes,” he admits.

“And you were going to tell me you knew when?”

“I’m telling you now.”

I bring my knees to my chest and tug the blanket to my face.

“What was it like?” he insists. “Staying there?”

“They separated us. Me, Mom and Maggie from Kaden and Dad. The three of us at the family shelter and Dad and Kaden had to go to the men’s.”

We had heard of family shelters and when we arrived, desperate for a place to stay, my mom broke down when they informed us men above the age of thirteen weren’t allowed to stay at the family shelter.

“But we’re a family,” my mom begged. Tears spilled down her face and Maggie sobbed with her arms wrapped tightly around my father’s leg.

“I wanted to puke, West. I wanted to find a bathroom and puke. I mean, we had just lost our house and we had nowhere to live and now we were being separated. I was terrified. It took everything I had not to grab on to my father and beg him to make it go away.”

The world became this tunnel-vision blur as my mom asked if an exception could be made and the person behind the counter kept telling her no.

Right as the tingling sensation in my head grew into a roaring, Dad grabbed me by my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. “You’ve got to be strong on this one, Hays. Do you hear me? I need you. Your mother and Maggie need you. I need you to do tonight and any other night what I can’t.”

“You stayed strong, didn’t you?” West says into the darkness and I jump, feeling a bit crazy as I wonder if I said the last part aloud. “Because you could protect your mom and sister.”

“Yes.” Tears well up in my eyes. I didn’t cry then and I won’t cry now.

I inch closer to the wall, not wanting his pity, but he parallels my movements. West doesn’t touch me. Instead, his body heats my back. His hand hovers near my shoulder and, after a second, his fingers comb through my hair. The gentle pull, the tenderness of the motion almost causes the tears to cascade down my face.

“What happened?” he asks.

I swallow to clear my throat. “We were fine, but things were rough for Dad and Kaden. The population at the men’s shelter was more...unstable. I found it impossible to sleep at night without knowing if Dad and Kaden were safe. My mom cried all the time and Maggie was starting to have night terrors.

“The shelter wouldn’t let Kaden in a few times because he had bruises on his face from training. They thought he was violent, so Dad and Kaden slept in the car or at the gym. One night, at the shelter, some guy tried to steal their stuff and Kaden hit the guy. All of them got thrown out. Then outside the shelter, Dad and Kaden were held up by a man with a gun. The next morning my mother went to my uncle and begged for him to take us in and here we are.”

My uncle demanded our car and she gave it to him. The bastard took the last thing my parents owned. If that hadn’t worked, then we would have lived on the mats in the gym: waking between three and four in the morning to be gone before classes began and not returning until well after eleven at night. It would have been the same as living out of the car.

“You saw where my grandfather lives,” I say. “There’s barely enough room for him and until my mother begged, my uncle wouldn’t take us in...”

The memories burn brightly in my brain and I wish they would fade. “I know what it’s like to be scared. To wonder if anything will feel normal again. There’s this hopelessness, a sadness that permeates through your pores, when you have no idea what home is or what the word means. I may be under somebody’s roof, but it’s not a home. I just want a home.”

West edges closer and his musky scent envelops me like a welcome blanket. His lips press against my shoulder and I allow myself to melt into him.

Goose bumps rise on the back of my neck and I shouldn’t, but I angle my head so more of my neck is exposed. He kissed me. I should tell West to stop, that he’s crossed lines, but his lips against my skin created a feeling of togetherness, a closeness I’ve been longing for.

In quiet acceptance of my invitation, West skims his nose along the sensitive skin near my hairline. “What did home feel like?” he whispers into my ear.

“Warm,” I whisper back. West’s fingers roam along the end of my tank and when he discovers bare skin, he splays his palm across my stomach. His heat radiates into my bloodstream.

“What else?”

“Safe, protected.”

He pulls me into him, creating a shelter—one like I haven’t experienced in months. I feel small against him, fragile. Like he’s realized the secret I’ve hidden: that I’m breakable, if not already broken.

I’ve noticed his muscles before—his biceps, his abs—but there’s a difference between seeing them and being held in them. I release a breath, one I’ve been holding for six months, for a year, possibly forever.

“When I had a home, I never felt alone,” I whisper. His lips press against the hollow of my neck and my fingers find his. We lace our hands together and his leg rubs against mine. Every part of him connects with a part of me.

“I’m here, Haley,” he says. “You’re not alone.”

“Do you know what my favorite part of the day is?”

West settles his head into the pillow. His mouth continues to drift against the curve of my neck; then he lazily kisses the sweet spot near my hairline. “When?”

“Those brief few seconds when I wake up and I forget and I think I’m at home.”

“Until now, that’s also been my favorite part of the day. Sleep, Haley. Sleep knowing tonight, I’m not letting go.”

I listen to his breath, enjoy the rise and fall of his chest and focus on the gentleness of his fingers against mine. My mind wavers and I no longer exist in an attic and the darkness no longer taunts me with my fears. Sheltered in warmth and in strong arms, I sleep.