BAD WICKED TWISTED: A Briarcrest Academy Box Set (81 page)

We’d never be together. Not now. Not ever.

I had nothing to lose.

“I love you,” I gasped out, holding his face with my hands. “I never stopped.”

He paused, his eyes wider than I’d ever seen them. I brushed back his hair to see his eyes. He touched my lips, running his fingers across my top lip and then my bottom. I dipped my tongue out and curled it around him, making him groan.

“Dovey,” he muttered out hoarsely. “You—”

I stopped him with my hand, fearing his words. I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. “Finish.”

He searched my face, but then gave in, his hips taking me, pushing me to the outer limits. “Behind you,” he muttered after a while, placing me on my knees like he wanted. He entered me forcefully, his grunts making me hotter.

Yes
,
yes
,
yes
, I said, telling him I’d love him until I took my last breath, telling him I was sorry, that I wished I could go back and make us right.

Why did it matter to tell the truth? I had no pride left.

After a while, he cried out and went over the edge.

When it was over, he bowed his head over me, while I eased to the side, taking gulps of air. Minutes passed, making my heart break as neither of us spoke, just our eyes staring at the other. Mine were bright from unshed tears. His were empty. No hate, no love, nothing.

A huge gulf divided us, vaster than the ocean, bigger than the universe. We’d never be able to cross it. Even with sex.

I picked up my clothing and brushed it off, wanting to drag it out, wanting him to say something, but he didn’t. Because he’d worked me out of his system. I dressed, but he didn’t move, not even a twitch, just his eyes following me.

This had been his goodbye.

THE AWFUL DAY didn’t stop. I walked to my car and Spider was leaning against it, straightening as he saw me, his blonde hair glinting in the sun.

I stopped in front of him. “Your eyes look like road maps.”

He pulled out a pair of Ray Bans and slid them on. “Problem solved,” he said.

“I’m not coming back,” I stated baldly.

He ignored me in favor of a cigarette from his leather jacket. He lit it, his hands cupping the flame from the wind. Taking a hit, he tossed his head back on the exhale. Blowing smoke rings. Show off.

I tapped my foot, waiting for his hateful words. They were coming. I knew it.

Finally, he leveled his gaze at me, seeming oddly subdued. “I never knew you were flat-out crazy. Selling yourself.” He shook his head.

“Then maybe you don’t know me,” I said. “You ditched me. I had no one to turn to.”

He stared down at his hands and tucked them in his pocket, sighing heavily. “I don’t know what the bloody hell I was thinking. I’m a right bastard for kicking you out of my apartment and not following up. I’m too impulsive and I just reacted. My brain is all kinds of screwed up when it comes to you. And what’s nuts, is I didn’t even know how shitty I was being ‘cause all I could think about was myself.”

“There are things about my past that I didn’t want to share. I didn’t want you involved. Still don’t. You have a past you never talk about, too,” I reminded him.

He mulled it over, thumping his cigarette to the ground. “I get it. You got secrets and they’re ugly. Just tell me when you’re ready, then. I’ll be here.”

We stared at each other in silence.

And then he changed gears, his face twisting. “He’s it for you, isn’t he? There’ll never be an us.”

I cleared my throat. “I do love you. And it’s hard to explain even to myself, but it’s more than friendship. But when I see Cuba, if there’s such a thing as a soulmate…he’s mine. It hurts to breathe without him.”

Silence and then, “
God, I want someone to love me like that
—” his voice broke as he covered his face with his hands.

And that was enough to send me straight to his arms, letting it all go. I hugged him, wrapping my arms around his waist, laying my head against his chest.

I didn’t know if this was goodbye for us or not.

“Winning isn’t everything, but losing her was.”

–
Cuba

I WATCHED HER leave the loft.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell her not to go because my voice was kaput, my throat clogged with emotion.

I was terrified I’d never see her again.

I was terrified I would.

She had power to hurt me.

She
had
hurt me by selling herself.

And, I was still angry.

A part of me was glad she’d left, so I could figure this out, wade through the wacked shit she’d told me about her father. Everything I’d ever thought about her, I’d have to realign and reconfigure.

I couldn’t comprehend her childhood or her world. She was right about that.

Did I hate her?
Never.
Our past was imprinted on my useless heart.

When I’d seen for my own eyes what she’d done at the hotel, I’d crashed and burned hard, my heart feeling ripped out of my chest. I hadn’t seen the man she was with, but if I had, he wouldn’t be walking. Complete and utter rage had dogged me the entire weekend, and I’d holed up in my room, agonizing over what I’d learned.

Was this on me too? Had I unknowingly pushed her in that direction when I hadn’t asked enough questions that night when the car had followed us? Or the next day at school?

Had I seen the clues but not noticed? I winced, remembering the night in the snow when she’d lost it.

Had helping Emma fucked up everything?

I leaned my head back against the interior of the loft. We had so much between us, my past, what she’d done. It dawned on me I hadn’t set her straight about Emma. And now she might never know.

Would she give up ballet and—fuck me—would she continue with this loanshark?

My body drew up and my hands tightened at that disgusting thought, and I took my frustration out on the ground, pounding it with my fists, wishing I could take it to this nameless man’s face, wishing I could solve all her problems for her.

But she wouldn’t let me.

And if that was true, then I needed to let her go. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want it. Didn’t I know that as well as anyone? I hadn’t let my dad or Dovey pull me out of my pit a year ago.

I looked around at the names on the wall, thinking how naïve we’d been then, not knowing that life was about to throw us curve balls. Between the day we’d met and today, we’d been irrevocably changed, altered into adults before our time. Our pasts had carved its history into us.

And here’s the thing: I think—I think I loved the Dovey today
more
than the girl I’d fallen for a year ago.

Go figure that one out.

She was grittier and tougher. She’d sell her soul for you. Perhaps she’d always been that way and I’d never seen it. Perhaps it took this for me to see her clearly.

And me. I’ve reached the end of my road. I got nowhere else to go. It’s either carry on with this pathetic self-pitying or choose to live.

I wanted to lay down this shitty baggage and feel lighter. I’d sunk myself low over the past year, letting blame rule my life, but lately, I’d been steadily easing my load. I’ve realized I’m only human, and I made some human mistakes.

So did my father.

So did my mother.

And in the end, my mother was the one responsible for her own actions,
not me.

I sat there, letting the idea of starting again soak in, finding beauty in the balance of life. We have ups and downs, and how we deal is up to us. Did I want to cry like a pussy or kick it in the ass?

It hit me then, my epiphany. Death is a constant, but love? It is rare. I’d lost so much already.
I didn’t want to lose at love, too
.

With hope flickering, I rose up, knowing what I had to do. Whether she wanted it or not, I had to help Dovey.

“
Life is a lot like chess. Sometimes you gotta sacrifice the queen to win
.”

–
Dovey

I CAME HOME spent from the rollercoaster of my day, but I kept going.

Sarah napped, Heather-Lynn took Ricky for a walk, and I worked in the studio, calling the parents of students, letting them know we were canceling Sarah’s classes after this spring semester. I explained about her disease, and of course, they were gracious. I told them to make other plans for the fall. I hoped we’d be gone by then.

In fact, the realtor had called, asking if she could show the building to a prospective buyer. I’d gotten thrilled, seeing an end to our troubles, but it was dashed when she said they weren’t in a hurry to buy, simply checking out prospective places to open a clothing store that also had living facilities. But still, it was a chance, so I went nuts, polishing the wood floors—although I wasn’t sure they’d appreciate it if they didn’t plan on using it as a studio. Whatever. I cleaned like a mad woman, dusting the apartment, taking out trash, mopping the tile in the kitchen. Sarah had let things slide and I understood it. She’d lost motivation for it. But maybe it was part of her disease, too. Maybe she didn’t notice the dirty dishes or the clothes piled up in the laundry room. Me leaving BA had been the right choice.