Twisted (16 page)

“No problem. I didn’t see you when we came in. I was just coming over to talk to you for a minute. I didn’t expect Alec to be acting like such an ass.” He shook his head. “Never mind. When is he
ever anything
but
an ass? Are you okay?”

Phoebe nodded as color filled her cheeks under Henry’s worried, scrutinizing gaze.

Olivia narrowed her eyes at Phoebe and me. “Alec said he wanted to make peace. What did you do to him?” she asked Phoebe as she wrapped herself around Henry’s arm. Like a pretty little python she held on tight.

“I can’t do this tonight,” Phoebe mumbled. She grabbed her purse and started fumbling for her wallet.

Henry frowned. He looked as if he wanted to say something but he glanced at Olivia and kept quiet.

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “I’ve got it.”

She gave me a grateful look as she started to scoot out of her seat.

“Phoebe, please don’t leave,” Henry finally said. His voice was so quiet I could barely hear him.

“I’m not leaving because of you. I promise,” Phoebe reassured him in a trembling voice. “I just need to get out of here,” she admitted as she darted past him.

“What was that about?” Olivia asked in astonishment. “First she insults Alec and then she doesn’t even say goodbye to us?”

Henry didn’t take his eyes off of Phoebe as she made her hasty exit. The frown had turned into a hurt look. He turned back to Olivia and tugged his arm free.

“She didn’t do a damn thing to Alec. He called her a bitch. It obviously upset her. And he shoved her. That upset
me
.” His gaze swung from Olivia to me. It was full of concern. “Should I go after her?” he asked me.

I was about to tell him that maybe he should but Olivia cut me off.

“Why would you chase after her?” she demanded.

Henry gave her an incredulous look. “To make sure she’s okay?!”

“She’s fine,” Olivia scoffed.

He shook his head, obviously agitated. “How can you even say that?! Did you
see
her?! Maybe
you
should go check on her. If you were the one that was upset, Phoebe would be worried about you!”

“I’ll call her as soon as I get home,” I said but no one was listening to me. Except for maybe the customers around us who had slowly been pulled into the scene that had been unfolding since the moment Alec had slid into our booth.

“Why are you getting mad at me?” Olivia asked Henry, her voice full of indignation.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m worried about Phoebe. You’re supposed to be one of her best friends. How can you not see how upset Alec made her?” he wondered.

Hailey tossed herself into Phoebe’s vacated seat. She grinned at me. “They treat me like I’m the dumb one? I figured out months ago why Phoebe’s undies are always in such a twist.” She turned her smile to Olivia and Henry. “Believe me. Alec has nothing to do with it.” She leaned across the table. She had a serious look on her face as she covered her mouth so only I could hear as she whispered the words, “And you doubt the importance of calling ‘dibs’?”

***

When I got home, Remy was in her bedroom getting ready to visit Jeff for a while before her overnight shift started. “Hey,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“Something came up and Phoebe had to cancel. I had already ordered a pizza so I had to wait for them to make it. It’s in the fridge if you want any.” It was more or less the truth. I didn’t want to bother Remy with the boring drama that had become my life. “So, what’s up?”

“Thanks, but no to the pizza. We’re going out to dinner,” she explained. She was quiet for a minute, studying me. “I know I haven’t been home much. I can cancel with Jeff so you and I can spend some time together. I would like to see you. I know he’d understand.”

“No,” I told her, even though I did wish she’d stay home with me. I would’ve enjoyed spending the evening with her but I didn’t want her to feel torn between me and Jeff. That wasn’t fair. “Go ahead and go,” I insisted.

She nodded. “Tomorrow night, though? Me and you? We’ll find something fun to do.”

“Perfect,” I told her. I expected the conversation to be over. It wasn’t.

“Okay,” she said as she sat down on her bed. “What I really wanted to talk to you about was Mom.”

“Mom?” I asked, crossing her room to sit beside her. “What about her?”

“She called while you were out. We actually had a nice visit.” Remy sounded as surprised as I felt. “I think this treatment facility has been really good for her.” She hesitated before adding, “And maybe losing you for a while has been good for her too. She’s always had you there to take care of her. I think she’s realizing that. She’s in therapy for the alcohol abuse but she’s part of a grief support group, too.” Remy shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m being too optimistic but I swear, she sounded different to me.”

“I wish I could’ve talked to her,” I said.

“She wanted to talk to you, too,” Remy told me as she patted my knee. “If I’d known you’d be home so early, I would’ve asked her to call back. She did say she’s going to try to call at least once a week from now on. I took that as a good sign so I asked if we could visit soon. She wouldn’t commit to a date but I think she will. I think she just needs a little more time. Right now, I think she’s realizing how absent she’s been and I think she’s struggling with the guilt. But I think she’s coming around.”

I nodded. “Okay. Good.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I thought if she was struggling with the guilt of not being there for us, that she should welcome a visit. But people deal with things in their own way. I might not understand it but I needed to at least try not to judge her for it. The important thing was that she was making an effort for the first time in years. I was going to be grateful for that.

Remy sighed. “I feel like I should stay here tonight,” she admitted. Discussions about Mom always left us both in a melancholy mood. “Maybe you should invite Olivia or Hailey over,” she suggested.

“No. But I’ll give Phoebe a call later. I’ll be fine. I promise. You have a whole stack of movies I haven’t watched yet. I’ll pick one out and I won’t miss you at all,” I said with a teasing smile.

She rolled her eyes as she zipped the bag with her work clothes shut.

I had planned on watching a movie. Had even turned it on and gotten halfway through it. Then an unseasonably late storm had set in.

I loved thunderstorms. The sound and scent of the pouring rain, the hypnotic rumble of the thunder, the magical flicker and glow of the lightening as it fills the sky. I had all of the lights off as I was lying on the couch, watching the storm through the big picture window that overlooked the backyard. I had muted the movie because I found the storm to be so enchanting.

When the doorbell rang it startled me so badly I nearly tumbled to the floor. I couldn’t imagine who it would be at this time of night. My instant, immediate, terrified thought was that something happened to Remy and there was an officer at the door. But Remy would be safely at work by now. I slunk into the kitchen, belatedly thinking I should’ve thrown a bathrobe over the top of my pink boxers and tank top. I flipped on the outside light.

It was Ben.

I punched in the four digit access code to the security system Remy had installed in honor of my nights home alone. Then I flipped the deadbolt, snapped the lock and pulled the door open.

“You’re drenched!” I exclaimed, pulling him inside so I could shut the door behind him.

He hesitated in the doorway, water streamed down his face and dripped from his clothing. “You said if I ever needed a place to stay...” he began uncertainly, his voice faltering. “I wouldn’t have come here but with the storm…”

“It’s okay,” I said, raising my hand to stop his impending apology. “I’ll be right back.” I dashed off to the bathroom to grab a giant towel and then to Remy’s room. I rummaged through Jeff’s drawer before rushing back into the kitchen.

He had already removed his wet shoes and socks. He toweled off quickly.

“What happened?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I was really expecting an answer.

He shrugged, looked away, looked back at me, then away again.

I waited.

“My dad kicked me out.”

I glanced outside. “Where’s your car?”

“At home. He took the keys.”

“You were kicked out in a thunderstorm, without your car or anything?” It had begun to rain shortly after Remy left and it didn’t look as though it would be letting up any time soon.

He shrugged as if sometimes these things simply happen and they shouldn’t be a surprise. I felt so much sadness for him but mostly, I was angry. I wanted to reach over and hug him, wrap my arms around him and try to make everything okay. Soggy, sopping wet clothes and all. I restrained myself.

“Here are some dry clothes,” I said, handing him a pair of Jeff’s sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Thanks.” He took them but hesitated. “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here? Did I wake you?”

“Of course it’s okay and no, I wasn’t sleeping,” I told him.

He shook his head. “You always go out of your way to help me. I’m sorry I do nothing but cause problems for you.”

His words startled me. “Ben, that’s not true. You have never caused problems for me. It’s just a horrible situation that you’re in. It’s completely out of your control, so please, don’t ever apologize to me. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve hardly seen you the last few days.” I hesitated before adding, “I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said as he gave me a small smile. “You have no idea how much,” he said quickly. Then he headed off toward the bathroom with the clothes I’d handed him. I knew it must’ve taken a lot for him to come here. I wondered how long he was out in the storm before making the decision. 

I moved to the living room to look out of the big picture window. I pressed my nose and forehead to the glass despite the smudge I would leave. The maples were swaying in the back yard as leaves swirled across the lawn. The mesmerizing grumble of thunder rumbled in the distance. The lightening was slicing the ebony sky, piercing it again and again. I watched as the world before me flickered in the spellbinding illumination it cast.

“What are you looking for?”

I jumped, startled by Ben’s voice. I looked over my shoulder to face him. “I’m just watching the storm. That’s what I was doing before you got here. I love thunderstorms. I know it probably sounds stupid…but I think they’re so relaxing.”

He craned his head a bit closer to mine to look out the window with me. “Yeah, I suppose they’re not so bad… as long as you’re inside.”

“I can feel the chill coming off of you,” I told him. He was standing so close.

He took a step, backing away. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

I took a step toward him, closing the gap again. “No. It’s okay,” I said, reaching for him. I slid my hands up his arms, wanting to absorb some of the cold. Then I slid them back down, wrapping his icy hands in mine. I led him to the couch and covered us both up with the blanket I’d been using.

“Why are you so nice to me?” he asked. His eyes were questioning. His head cocked to the side as if he was truly mystified.

“Because I really like you,” I said simply.

I reached up to wipe away a trickle of rain water that had escaped from his hair. It was gliding down his temple. His gray eyes locked on mine and I willed him not to look away. I slid my hand from his temple to his cheek, tracing the well defined cheekbone with my finger. I let my hand run along his jaw line and then back, sliding it behind his head, into his damp hair. His eyes never left mine.

“Maya, you can’t want this,” he said quietly.

“Yes, I can.” I leaned over to kiss his neck. His whole body tensed, as if the touch of my lips had taken him completely by surprise. I used the hand that was cradling the back of his head to tilt his face toward mine. For just a moment he didn’t return the kiss, but when he did, his icy hands slid up my back making me shiver. I moved in closer to him, wrapping my arms tightly around him, wanting to share my heat.

Kissing Ben while it lasted was blissful. He kissed me back like he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. His arms wrapped around me, crushing me to his chest. His mouth left mine long enough to dot kisses on my cheek, down my neck and then back to my mouth again. My hands slid under his shirt, gliding across his frigid skin.

The kisses grew more heated, more intense than they had before. Maybe because it was late, it was dark and we were alone with no chance of interruption.

And then his hands were on me, sliding under the flimsy tank top I was wearing for pajamas. My breath caught in my throat. Heat spiraled through me at the feel of his fingers on my bare skin. A soft moan escaped my lips as his hand slid higher.

Then his body tensed and he pulled away, keeping his arms loosely around me. He rested his forehead against mine while we both took a moment.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t do this,” he said softly. He moved so that his cheek was against mine, his mouth next to my ear.

He smelled so good. Like raindrops and faded cologne.

“You
think
you shouldn’t or you don’t
want
to?” I asked, curious. If he didn’t feel the same about me as I did about him, I was okay with that. I just wanted to be sure we were on the same page because as long as he wanted me around, in any capacity, I wasn’t going to walk away from him.

His eyes closed and he took a breath, as if finding the nerve to speak. “I
want
to,” he finally said as his arms tightened around me. He leaned in, dropping a kiss on my forehead before speaking again. “It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted
anything
this much. It’s just…” he shook his head and gave me a helpless look as he released me and settled back into the cushions. “It’s just…”

“What?” I pressed, refusing, once again, to let him off too easily. “Is it me? Do I talk too much?” Suddenly I realized that after barely talking to anyone for the last few years I was probably like a living, breathing hurricane of chatter. “I come on too strong.” It was an admission, not a question. I was the first to admit I was far from perfect.

“It’s not you. I love everything about you,” he insisted. “It’s all me and I don’t know why.” He ran a hand through his damp hair. “I know I’m making things more difficult than I need to. I just can’t seem to stop.”

“Do I ask too many questions?” I wondered. “Does that make it harder for you? Does it bother you?”

“You do ask too many questions,” he agreed with a small smirk. “But believe it or not, I like that you talk so much. You’re just so
open
. It’s one of the things I like most about you.” His eyes flickered to mine and I wished he would just hold them there. But he didn’t. “You just say what you need to say. How do you do that?” he asked, shaking his head in dismay.

I laughed. “I had a lot of practice. Mom made me see a psychiatrist right after the accident. I knew she was paying a hundred bucks a session. I talked a lot and I talked fast because I wanted her to get her moneys’ worth.” My smile slipped away and I bit my lip nervously. I was only half-joking. I did see someone. He helped to fix my head. Mom saw someone too, in order to get her prescription to get her fix from a pill. “Actually, I just saw someone for the first year. After that Mom was afraid I’d tell him too many details about
her
so she made me stop going.”

He nodded. After everything I’d told him, that made sense to him.

“You don’t want me to get too close. You don’t want to talk. What
do
you want?” I asked softly.

He shrugged finally looking me in the eye again. “I don’t know anymore.”

“Well, can I at least be your friend? You
can
talk to me, you know. Believe me. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“I’m not like you, Maya. I just can’t get the words out.” He shook his head miserably.

“How do you know? When is the last time you tried?” I took his hands in mine once more. “Sometimes talking about it helps. I know it sounds silly, but it really does. I’m a good listener. I promise,” I said gently, hoping I was pushing just enough but not too much.

I pulled my legs up onto the couch, pulling my knees tight to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. I was going to let him have his space. The muted television flashed its colors in the background, going unnoticed by both of us.

“Have you ever had the chance to talk about it with anyone?” I asked. Then I regretted my words. He had probably talked about it with the investigators and lawyer so many times that the words were like a script. “I mean, have you talked about it with a
friend
?”

He shook his head. He remained silent.

I waited patiently, gazing out the window at the storm beyond. I had pushed enough already. More than I had meant to. He would talk when, and if, he was ready. So much time passed I didn’t think he would say anything.

“Do you really want to hear this?” he finally asked.

“Only if you’re ready to tell me,” I honestly replied.

“I think maybe I
need
you to know,” he told me as he threw me a nervous glance. “I think maybe then I won’t have to wonder what you would think if you knew what
really
happened. Because right now? I do wonder if it would change things and I don’t want…I don’t want you to doubt anything. I’m afraid you do, even if you don’t realize it.”

I wanted to tell him that wasn’t true but realized it was something he needed to find out for himself. I had a hunch his concern about my reaction was part of what was always holding him back.

He sighed and it took him a while before he started.

“I spent most of that night in my room, doing homework, listening to music. I was frustrated because I was having trouble with my algebra, which was usually my best subject. Like that was the biggest problem in my world.” A bitter, mirthless laugh escaped his lips. “And while I’m sitting there doing nothing, really, just procrastinating...He was…” He faltered, unable to say the words. He swallowed them down and went on in a trembling voice. “Doing what he did.
While I was just sitting around
. Like, how could she be suffering so badly and the whole world be so oblivious to it all? I feel like I should’ve known somehow.”

As messed up and impossible as that was, I understood what he was saying. I thought back to Mom and me making a pan of lasagna to take out of the fridge so we could slide it into the oven for dinner. Then we sipped homemade hot cocoa and decided to bake peanut butter cookies because they were both my and Trey’s favorite. And we’re laughing and baking and eating cookie dough while two huge pieces of our hearts have been ripped out. All the while, we are blissfully and horrifically unaware. But it wasn’t my time to talk so I just nodded and waited for him to continue.

“She was supposed to meet her friend, Allie, right after dinner that night. She called her to cancel because she got a text saying I needed to meet her right away. Her mom called our house a little after ten looking for her because she broke her curfew. I don’t think she’d ever done that before. They had already called Allie. She told them that she was supposed to be with me.” He stopped and I waited, thinking maybe that was the end of it. No, not the end, but the end of what he was willing to share. But then he went on. “By the time we knew she was missing, he was already done with her. He left her there, in that old farmhouse, still tied up.” He put his hands up to his eyes as though he could dam the tears that way. It didn’t work, a few slid out and under his palms.