The Keys to Jericho (50 page)

Shaking his head, Dash laughs and says, “Well, I hope you and Merrick talked, at least.”

Looking around, I ask, “Where is she anyway?”

“Oh. She didn’t tell you? She isn’t coming over today.”

Dropping my arms, I demand, “What? Why?”

“She says she doesn’t feel well.”

“Why didn’t she tell
me
?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe her illness has to do with you.”

Annoyed again, I bite “I didn’t give her anything.”

Dash shakes his head. “Think again.” Holy fuck.

“I did
not
knock her up. Shit. That’s quick. If you think—”

He sighs and pushes off the van. “Again. That’s
not
what I was saying. Damn. Thanks for reminding me of what you were doing with her to possibly cause that.”

I petulantly roll my eyes. “Shut up.”

“I have to say, you both were stealthy about it.”

“We weren’t as sneaky as you think.”

“Shit. I don’t want to know.” He starts walking, but stops, turning to me. “Wait. Just tell me you didn’t do it on my bed.”

“We didn’t.”

“Holy shit. Fuck me. That’s what you were doing with her in the Jacuzzi. Wasn’t it?”

I try not to waver my gaze. “No. Just talking.”

He laughs. “Thank, God! You know how awkward that would be if I did interrupt you, especially in there?

I shake my head as I look to the street. “Can’t imagine.”

“Eww. It would also be hypocritical since you made the comment about Rio and Liberty having sex in there.”

I roll my eyes and say, “Okay, Dash. I’m done here.”

As I walk into the house, I text Kat, asking her how she’s doing, but she doesn’t answer, leaving me hanging. I text her repeatedly, yet still no reply.

This is fucking ridiculous.

Changing my mind and walking back outside, I get in my car and go to my grandparents’ house to grab the Nissan. I then drive over to Kat’s apartment. When I knock on her door, there’s no immediate response, so I try several more times before I text her, warning that she needs to answer the door or I’ll call her mother to open it, since I’m guessing she has a spare.

If that fails, well, I am good with locks, and I have all goddamned day.

Two, long minutes later, Kat answers the door. She’s somewhat disheveled with her brown and purple, limp ponytail, worn sweat shorts, an old T-shirt with our high school’s name emblazoned across her tits, no makeup, and she’s wearing pinkish-framed glasses. I swear they’re the same ones she used to wear in school.

Even if Kat’s hair is messy and purplish, she looks more like she did the day I met her, and just like that day, she’s still fucking adorable now.

As I gawk at her, feeling like we’re those teenagers again, I imagine having sex with her while she wears those glasses. I think that’s when I’d grasp the fact that I actually screwed my driver’s ed. partner.

However, I won’t be doing that anymore, and behind her glasses are red eyes.

Still, she’s the one to ask, “What’s wrong?”

Inhaling, I prop my fist on the doorframe, and angrily scoff, “I’ve been asking you that all damn day!”

“Oh. My phone is in the kitchen. You really called my number this time?”

I scowl, and she winces, wrapping her arm around her. “My stomach hurts. I told Dash.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He said he’d tell you.”

My eyes fall to her stomach. “Are you feeling any better?” She shakes her head when I look up. “You don’t think you can drive today?”

Again, she shakes her head. “If I do, my mom is grocery shopping later. She’ll let me drive.”

“No. Kat. Call me. I’ll take you driving.”

She leans onto her door. “Jared, I need to try driving with other people, too. I can’t completely depend on you.”

“You’re not depending on me. You’re trying to
not
be dependent on people. That’s why I’m helping you get your license.”

“But…”

“No fucking way. Don’t be hiding from me. Is this what you’re doing?”

She shakes her head, but I don’t believe her. “I really don’t feel right. I’ll try driving with you tomorrow. I need to go back to bed.”

“Do you need me to do something? I can come in and make you some soup or something?”

She cringes again and moves away from the door. “No. Just go. I’ll be all right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Kat. I want to help.”

“You’ve helped me enough already.”

“Not true. What if I sit on the couch and watch TV with you? You can use me as a pillow.” Shit. A stiff pillow.

Putting her other arm around herself, she insists, “Jared, no. Please. I can’t. I need to get back to bed.”

“I can’t do anything for you, Kit Kat?”

She averts her gaze to the porch. “I’m begging you. I need to be alone.”

I watch her actively trying to erase me from her porch, if not her life. Reluctantly, I ask, “You’re not sick, are you?”

She nods, but doesn’t look at me. “I am.”

“Then why does it look like you’ve been crying?”

Her nod turns to a shake. “I’m not.”

“Not currently.” I impatiently sigh. “Kat, come on. Don’t keep trying to drive me away. It won’t work. If you need to talk… Talk to me.” I wait for her to answer, hoping she’ll tell me the truth.

She steps back, grabbing the edge of the door. “I can’t.  My stomach. I have to go.” She decided on the lie.

I want to yell. I want to break something. I want to…kiss her. So much.

But I can’t.

I warn, “Okay. If you’re not at the site tomorrow, I’ll be back here.”

“Bye, Jared.” She shuts the door and I’m left gaping at the gray door in my face.

Not in a sociable mood, I skip out on the rest of the day at the house and drive aimlessly around, until I find myself at Quiet Waters Park.

From there, I walk to an overlook and watch people on the paddleboats, remembering the time Kat and I spent laughing, teasing each other, and making small confessions. I want the easiness of our friendship we had to return, but I also want what we found this weekend. Did having sex really drive us apart?

I need her. She’s been missing from my life far too long, but I feel like she’s trying to get a one-way ticket out of it on an express train.

I haven’t left for Philly yet, but I feel like Kat has left Annapolis.

And me.

CHAPTER 23

Tuesday morning at the construction, I do get a text this time from Kat, saying she’s not going to be there. She can’t keep sidestepping me. She needs to be here.
I
need her to be here.

Even though she sent me a text, it’s a flimsy lie to shut me up; however, I never give up, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.

Not bothering to ask Dash if he heard from Kat, I drive to her apartment to find out for myself. When I round the corner to her building unit, a bolt of color snags my attention and I slow down, seeing a red truck sitting in her driveway.

Pulling up behind it, I notice the sports window decals, boat hitch, and a pine-tree air freshener, hanging from the rear-view mirror.

This reeks of belonging to a person with a cock and balls.

What the fucking hell is Kat doing with another man in her apartment?

She promised me.

After 10 minutes of watching her apartment, nobody comes out her front door. Every second I sit, staring at the walkway, I have to fight the compulsion to not go up there, knock on her door, breaking up whatever the fuck they’re doing.

God, I can’t think of what they’re doing.

This is how she tries to cover up her regret of fucking me? I’m a split decision away from kicking open her door, ripping off his goddamned balls, and cramming them into the bastard’s mouth. And
she’s
the one who’s fucking sick?

Picking up my phone, I text her to casually ask how she’s doing, but she doesn’t reply, which isn’t surprising if she’s…busy.

Jesus. It’s killing me that I may need to take a number.

Fuck that shit.

Throwing open the car door, I get out, set on finding out who’s in there, but before I shut the door, I realize I’m acting like a jealous…boyfriend.

Shit. Not happening.

I dig my hands underneath my hat, staring at her front door from the edge of her sidewalk, torn on what to do. This is the very thing I used to do in school, watching her carry on with her day like I didn’t exist, when in the next breath, she was smiling and saying hello to me, and ripping out my goddamned heart.

Grudgingly, I get back into the Nissan and gun it out of the complex, pissed off at myself for getting carried away, yet again, and nearly acting like a prick…yet again.

At the build, I was severely distracted, which begged people to constantly question what was on my mind. It became so bad that even Tony, who’d rather try to read Braille with his hammer, asked me. After that, I took off for the day, again, sitting at the park, watching paddleboats drift along the water. Unfortunately, that allows for the hurt to also drift into my veins more. Keeping my trip short, I went home, spending the rest of the afternoon staring at the TV, but refraining from drinking, since my dad will fire off his own set of questions, and his aren’t easy to answer.

He’s my father. Why can’t he have all the fucking answers for once?

Wednesday morning, I debate if I should go straight to Kat’s apartment to pick her up, but ultimately decide against it, since that
also hovers around boyfriend territory, not to mention stalker territory. After this weekend, and what she said Saturday night, I need to take a step back from her, just as she’s doing to me.

My dad has the day off from work, which means he’s at the site, inspecting me like I’m some kind of science experiment ready to explode all over a wall.

As I work on untangling an extension cord for a circular saw, he comes over to me and slaps me on the back. “You okay, bud?”

I look up, irritated at the cord and him. “Why is everyone asking me that?”

“Who’s everyone? You haven’t been here long.”

I scowl at the orange clusterfuck, pulling on it harder with annoyance. “Yesterday, that was the question of the day here. Nobody has their own lives to worry about?”

“Some people are just insightful.”

“About what? I’m as boring as they come.”

Dad laughs. “So
you
say.” I roll my eyes at him, and he looks around. “Where’s Kat?”

I cringe at the cord for his persistence on that subject. “Am I suddenly her keeper?”

“No,” he draws out, sounding somewhat confused.

Without thinking, I give him a side glance and say, “She’s sick. Has Brenda said what’s wrong with Kat?”

As I finally unravel the fucking knot, he says, “She said Kat was sick, but she doesn’t want anyone around. I thought she’d be back by now.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

“Hey, Jericho. Mr. Beckett.”

I ignore Calder, while I plug the saw into the cord, but I know he and my dad are giving each other a look behind my back. It pisses me off; however, my overloaded mind is elsewhere, and I don’t want to waste the energy arguing with them.

After a minute of their silent conversation, I have all my shit together to get back to work. My dad notices me gathering my tools and says, “I’m going to go find Tony.”

When he leaves, I spin around, aiming the saw at Dash. “Whose red truck would be at Kat’s apartment?”

Dash’s eyes bug out. “I don’t know!”

“She didn’t mention having anyone over yesterday?”

His gaze is stuck on the blade. “No! Why? Come on, Jared! Put it down!”

I shrug. “I didn’t turn it on. Yet.” I creep closer to him and he moves behind a sawhorse, like that’s really going to protect him.

“I’m telling your dad!” he says laughing, but his eyes divulge his fear.

I lower it and laugh at his scared expression. “Like I’d really kill you with this. I guess you don’t know me that well after all.”

Dash uncertainly laughs, and lets out his breath in a huff. “That’s a relief.”

Raising the saw again, I nod at it. “It has the wrong damn blade. I would need a masonry blade for your gel and hairspray
shit.”

“Wow. Thanks, BFF.”

I laugh again because it makes me feel better, especially seeing the look on Calder’s face, like he just walked into a horror movie, which is much more preferable than him seeing me in a porn. Now,
I
feel sick.

As I grab a pair of safety glasses out of the van, he says, “Wait a minute. How would you know there was a red truck at her place?”

“I went by to see if she was okay, but someone was already there.”

“Oh.” Dash shrugs. “Maybe she’s seeing someone.”

Speaking before I think, I wave the saw as I angrily demand, “Why would you fucking say that?”

Dash frowns at the saw and then at me. “Shit, Jericho. Chill out. Why wouldn’t she, unless you
are
dating and didn’t tell me?”

“No.” He skeptically stares at me and I edgily ask, “What now?”

“I don’t know if you want me to say this or not—”

“Not.”

He sighs. “Kat’s your soulmate. Just wanted to remind you.”

I sigh louder. “If you don’t want to eat saw dust, you’d better scram.”

“Don’t you need a license to operate that thing?”

Lining up the blade with my pencil mark, I look up and wickedly grin. “No. Isn’t it cool?”

“Jesus, Jericho. How in the hell did you ever pass the civil engineer exam?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“You’re right. You want to go to the races tonight?”

I move the tape measure out of the way and look around for my pencil. “Not really.”

“Why? Do you have other plans?”

“I’m supposed to take Kat driving, but she won’t text me back. Is she still sick?”

“I think so.”

“Shit.”

“Jericho, why don’t you go see her?”

“No. She seems to be
recovering
well. I’ll wait for her to call or text me.”

“Okay. So, let’s go to the races tonight. Get your mind off her.”

“It’s not
on
her.”

He chuckles. “Um, right.”

I rev up the saw, like I’m revving up my car, and Dash jumps back. He shouts over the metallic whirring, “Just meet me at our usual spot, same time!”

Rolling my eyes before I put on my glasses, I find my pencil, stick it between my teeth, and start the saw again.

Every 20 minutes, I check my phone, but still no replies. By the end of the day, I’ve lost my appetite, any sense of humor I had left, and I could shake the life out of someone. Fuck. We’re still in the same city, and I’m already having withdrawal symptoms from not being with Kat.

Dash does talk me into the races. At the marina, I sit on top of a picnic table with my feet on the seat, my elbows on my thighs, as I stare out at the gathering boats. I continue to check my phone, but the silence is deafening, and aggravates me even more.

“There you are,” Dash says, hopping up onto the weathered table. “I didn’t see your car.”

Watching the boats, I reply, “I didn’t bring it.”

“You walked all the way here?”

I roll my eyes at him. “No. I have the Nissan.”

Dash looks over his shoulder to where the Nissan sits, probably next to his. “Why? You haven’t needed to drive it.”

“Because I felt like it.” Because it smells like her perfume now, and it’s where we had our first kiss.

“What the hell? You’re driving a Nissan whatchamacallit and not your Charger? Because you
felt
like it? Are
you
sick now?”

I scowl at the water. “Fuck off, Dash.”

“What’s wrong, Jericho? Talk. Your dad isn’t here.”

“But
you
are.”

“You can’t let your problems fester or they’ll eat you alive.”

I turn to give him a dubious look. “Are you reading cue cards Duquesne gave you?”

“No. It’s common sense.” He takes out a green sucker and I roll my eyes.

“Coming from someone with
no
sense.”

“I’m the one who has no sense? Really?”

Choosing not to answer him, I keep watching the boats, but not caring about what I’m actually watching.

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, he asks, “You miss Kat, don’t you?”

Gritting my teeth, I warn, “Calder.”

“I know you do, and from what I’ve noticed, I know you didn’t sleep with Kat for the ‘hell of it,’ like you said. That was a bunch of bullshit you told Liberty.”

So tired of telling Dash to fuck off, since he doesn’t even listen, but also because I’m tired of arguing with him when he’s right, I sigh as I lift my hat to fluff my hair. That seems to give him some kind of green light to keep talking. “Being with her meant something to you, didn’t it?”

“Dash,” I turn to give him a dirty look, yet answer, “Yeah, it did.”

Twirling the stick of his green sucker as he stares at it, he says, “Tell her that.”

“I did.”

He glances at me. “You told her that you…what exactly?”

Hanging my head, I tell the ground, “Forget it. If it mattered… Fuck it. Just stop talking, Dash.” Raising my head, knowing what I need right now, I mutter, “I’m out of here. Later.”

“Jared, don’t leave.”

I jump off the table and head to the torturous car, needing to get home for another night of drinking until I’m numb, forgetting everything I felt with Kat.

And about how much I fucking miss her.