Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3 (8 page)

“Is that what you want? Do you want for Sadey to be dead?”

“No.”

Bean doesn’t sway at my harsh words. She doesn’t move or adjust her facial expression at all; she just asks for more. “Well? There’s more to it, then. What is it?”

Turing back to the window, I know the words she’s asking me to confess to her out loud. My angry voice falters in saying it. “Cherry. You’re asking me to define my feelings for her, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

Looking out at the city’s people, walking among the tall buildings and crowds, I think about my answer before saying it out loud in front of another person. I’m safe here with her and know that whatever I confess stays here, but my feelings for Cherry can’t yet be put into words because I’m still not sure of them. “I like her, of course I do. I care what happens to her, I want to help her heal and be a better person. I’m not in love with her, though.”

Bean stays quiet, her way of silently asking for me to continue.

Looking to the ground, I offer my last thought, shutting my eyes and hoping Bean accepts it as the finality I need her to. “She deserves better than me. Cherry deserves freedom from the ghosts of the past, Bean. Sadey is just as much of a ghost as the rest of those she’s battling. I don’t know that I would want her to risk anything for me, feelings of friendship or otherwise.”

Neither of us says anything for a few minutes. My feet start to ache from standing so long in one place, and the muscles of my back hurt from holding my posture stiff. My head is swimming after telling another person out loud that the reason I’m not with Cherry is because, even after everything that’s happened to her, I’m not ready to be with her or anyone else. Until I can let Sadey go, I won’t be able to
love
anyone else.

My grandmother doesn’t say anything more in way of wisdom. I hear her get up from the stool and listen as her feet drag on the carpet as she makes her way to her room. It’s the only way for me to know she’s given up.

Minutes pass. I haven’t moved.

Bean comes out of her room, now dressed to go out on the town. “Mary is taking me to play bridge again. I’m meeting her at her place next door. Sarah’s with her friends at the mall; she’ll be back by dark.”

“Have fun.” It’s all I can muster since I’m so weak with shame and embarrassment that I don’t turn around to face her.

I hear the door open and before Bean walks through it, she stops. “You’re worthy, Ace. No man that isn’t would’ve brought that broken girl into his home. She’s already so much better than she was. She’s going to get that boy of hers back soon. Don’t let her walk away from you without her knowing that you feel something, even if you don’t know what that is yet. Regret is a ghost you’ll never let go of. Sadey’s gone, and you can’t change what never was.” Then I hear the door’s handle click. Finally, Bean’s left me.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Cherry

“THANK YOU FOR today; that was probably the most fun I’ve had in months. Definitely the most fun I’ve had since Ace brought me here.” It’s true. I haven’t stopped smiling since we left the house this afternoon.

“Told you there were things to see in this city.” He’s smiling, too. His dimples are deep, and his laugh lines protrude from the sides of his goatee. “Neil Diamond, though? Can’t say I saw that comin’. I pictured you more of a heavy metal rocker type of girl.”

“What’s wrong with Neil Diamond? He’s a classic.”

“He’s
old
, Raegan. Not
classic
.”

“Whatever. You know you’ll be singing
Forever in Blue Jeans
the rest of the night. You don’t even have to tell me, I’ll just know you will.”

Planting his forehead on the steering wheel, feigning annoyance, he hits the eject button on the CD player and hands me my new CD, purchased courtesy of him. He’s lying that he doesn’t find Neil the least bit talented. “Get outta my Jeep. I’m sure Ace is waiting for his girl to get home.”

My smile fades, and I don’t try to hide it. I had such a good day today. I don’t want it stained with thoughts of Ace’s overprotective and cold attitude toward me being out today with Travis or anyone.

“Ah, don’t look like that. Ace just worries, that’s all. If he’s not pissed off at the world, he’s worrying about you. He’s expanding his anxiety at least, right?” he says while touching my cheek with his palm, letting me lean into it for platonic support.

Smiling softly and without sincerity, I open the door and get out of the Jeep. Turning around from heading toward the stairs, I look back when Travis calls my name through the passenger side window.

Once looking at him, he lowers his radio and then I hear him sing, without music, the words to
Forever in Blue Jeans
by the
great
Neil Diamond.

Old, my ass.
Classic is what he is.

One thing I’ve learned today is that it’s a good thing Trav’s hell on the keyboard, ‘cause he can’t carry a tune to save his life.

Travis and I went to the wax museum as he promised. Then shopping, lunch, and a walk in a park downtown. We talked about nothing of importance, but talking to someone other than those I live with felt rejuvenating. I did find out that he likes country music, though. No one would have convinced me of this if he hadn’t admitted it himself.

He misses his dad. After a brief run-down on what happened, he confessed that he hasn’t felt anything but alone since he died; they were close. His dad was blue-collar and they never had much money, but he always supported Travis in anything he tried to do.

Travis also told me he works as a mechanic full-time because the gig at The Ward “doesn’t pay shit” and although he enjoys it, he adamantly refuses to ever being in the band full-time “again”.

When I prodded for more information on what the word “again” meant, he cut me off, telling me I would have to ask Ace.
Right.
Ace won’t tell me anything unless it has to do with me; how to dress, how to wear my hair, how to stay safe, when to be home. He’s tight-lipped about his past and the only new thing I’ve learned about him since leaving Peril is that Ace apparently knows how to play guitar. It’s something, at least.

Walking in the apartment, I immediately sense its stillness. The sun is fading and the room has been left without lights. I don’t see or hear Bean or Sarah and Ace said he’d be here when I got home.

Setting down the bags from shopping and taking off my shoes, placing them by the door, I turn around and run smack into Ace’s chest while releasing a small scream. As he looks down at me, I note that he doesn’t look happy.

“Six hours, Cherry?” His voice is strained, his face is hard, and his jaw is ticking
mercilessly
.

“You’ve been counting?”

His voice is still strained but quickly gathering force. “Answer me. You’ve been at the wax museum for six fuckin’ hours?”

“Well, no, not exactly. Travis and I went to lunch, shopping, and...” Wait. I’m explaining things I shouldn’t have to. He agreed I needed the break, knew who I was with, and agreed to me going. “Do you really need a play-by-play of our day together?”

Hands to hips, his voice is full of contempt. “Did he kiss you?”

Hands braced to my sides, my voice is full of shock. “What? No, he didn’t kiss me! What are you…”

He cuts me off, not letting me question
his
question, but accusation is evident in his tone. “Cherry?”

Running my hands through my wind-blown hair and sighing, I make an effort to calm him. “Ace, I’m not your prisoner, and you’re not my warden. You would’ve had to figure out that sooner or later I’d need to make new friends.”

“Yeah, but not
Travis
kind of friends.”

“What does that mean? He’s
your friend
. Did you think we were stashed up in a sleazy motel room all day havin’ at each other like rabbits?”

Whoa. Wrong thing to say.

Putting his hand between us, his phone resting in his large palm - he uses it as prop - but avoids answering my question. His voice gets louder as he inches toward my face. “You should have answered your fuckin’ phone, goddamn it. I was worried sick.”

“You thought I was fucking him.” I make it a statement, unsure if I’m talking to myself or him.

“No, I didn’t say that.” He may deny it, but the thought crossed his mind; apparently, several times throughout the day. I see it in his eyes - they give me truth he can’t hide.

Putting my head down, I look to my hands that are left twisting in front of me. “Ace, I’m not a club slut; that’s not who or what I’ve always been. I miss my friends and you’re so mad all the time. Sarah is fourteen and Bean is your grandmother. I need someone my own age to hang out with. Trav’s nice and I like him.”

Visibly relaxing, he runs his fingers through his hair, resting the palms of his hands on top of his head and lacing his fingers together as he holds the pose. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…I worried, that’s all. You didn’t answer your phone.”

He’s not hearing me. I was with Travis, safe and secure. Raising my voice in frustration, I answer his concern. “I didn’t answer my phone because you would have just kept calling! You agreed to this. You told Travis and me both it was okay, so why call me every thirty minutes and send text messages between those calls?”

His face saddens, realizing I didn’t just incidentally forget to answer. I knowingly ignored his every attempt to reach me. I can’t let myself feel bad about this.

“Ace, what are you gonna do when I start dating?”

His eyebrows lift in question. “Dating?”

“Yeah, two people… dinner… movies… it happens, ya know.”
Just not for me.

“I’ll take you to the fuckin’ movies, Cherry. If that’s what’s you want. Dinner, too, if you’re so goddamn insistent that you need all that shit.”

He’s appeasing me and it almost hurts. “Ace, I need a life.”
You won’t share yours with me
.

Turning around, giving me his back, he takes his boots off with one thud, then another, throwing them on the linoleum floor at the doors entrance. “I’m just trying to…”

No longer having his eyes bore into me or having to fear the face that’s so angry all the time, I momentarily lose my temper. It’s rare that I do, but at times when I feel safe enough, I let it go. I finish his thought for him. “To protect me! You’re trying to protect me! All the time, as if that’s the only purpose you have. I get it, I do, but I’m not yours to protect. Give yourself a rest, Ace. Let someone else take the load off for a while.”

Whipping his head around first, his body immediately follows. He stalks toward me and, it has to be said, when Ace stalks, his large frame comes at you and he
stalks
. He’s angry.

Putting my hand out to stop him from coming any closer, he runs his chest into it. “Ace, I don’t want to sound ungrateful…”

“Know what I did all day today? Do you have
any
fuckin’ idea the day I had today, worrying, waiting, wondering? I thought,
for six fucking hours
, of ways to protect you. How I could keep you safe from all the Greysons, Vinnies, and bar idiots of this world. You have me going nuts here. Last night, Cherry…” His voice changes octaves, anger to concern, “you were so scared and I was helpless to save you from those nightmares. Nightmares that those kinds of men caused you.”

I don’t say anything; he’s calming down, and anything I may say to try to make this easier for him could upset him further.

Before I can think of anything to add, he shocks me with his statement. “Sadey’s gone.”

Since I don’t know where this is coming from, I stand still in front of him, looking up. His eyes are glassy; evidently, he’s thought about a lot today while I was gone.

“I can’t have her. I never could.”

His hand reaches out to touch my neck, his fingertips tracing the dip at the bottom of my throat. Finally, a small tear releases from his eye and drops down his face, quickly falling to his shirt.

“I’m letting her go, Cherry. I am. But…” he smiles, but it’s a stressful and upsetting smile hiding his sadness. “I’m doin’ it knowin’ I was the only one holding on.”

“I’m sorry.” He’s broken. This large man in front of me is so broken, by mostly self-inflicted hurt, but in so much pain nonetheless. Realization is dawning that no matter what he does, he’s powerless. Ace doesn’t do well with the feeling that goes along with being helpless.

Powering through his tortured admission, he continues. “I thought, while you were out with Trav, that I would have to let you go, too. It’s stupid and ridiculous, but it’s the truth. I swear, I’m telling you the truth.”

“I don’t understand.”

Hesitantly, he keeps going. “I thought that you and he…”

“It’s not like that, Ace. I told you already — Travis and I are friends.”

Using his finger to gesture back and forth between us, he explains the obvious. “You and I are friends.”

Using a gentle voice to be certain he continues, I answer. “Yes.”

“Then why do I hate that you…” He stops his thought mid-sentence, unsure if he should continue.

I’ve seen many faces of Ace; he wears them hesitantly, but they’re there. Anger, resentment, lust, love, yes, but confusion has never been one of them.

Standing on my tiptoes, I press into him, wrapping my arms around his neck, ensuring him that I’m here; safe and still
his
in whatever capacity he needs. He doesn’t make a move toward me, but I hear him draw in a ragged breath.

I kiss his neck, small and quick, one after another aiming to find his ear, and once there whispering, “I’m right here.” I run my hands to the back of his shoulders, then his neck, finally running my fingers through his hair. “Here, Ace.”

He doesn’t respond; still standing motionless, but allowing me to be this close to him while he’s this exposed. Seconds pass with him in my arms.

Stepping back but leaving my hands on his chest for connection, I look directly at him. His face is still broken, his eyes still glassy. “I’m your friend, and you can talk to me… even if you want to talk about her.”

His only response is to shake his head, and the silence surrounding us is deafening. I don’t know what else to say or do. While I was out with Travis today, seeing the town, getting to know my new friend, Ace was home in this apartment nervous for my safety and thinking about Sadey. I can’t make him talk about her and being honest with myself, this isn’t my problem. I didn’t come here to heal his heart or give him lessons on how to handle heartache and loss.