I jump when his door slams shut.
* * *
After Travis dressed, grabbed his keys, and stormed out of the apartment, I let myself feel the effects of what just happened.
Leaving the mess on the floor in the living room and kitchen, I go change my clothes as I debate if I should call or text Travis. It’s not a good idea, so I decide against it. There’ve only been a few times in my life that I’ve been nervous to approach him and this is the worst it’s ever been.
He needs room and I’ll give him that.
The knock at the door as I’m standing in the bathroom looking at my tear stained face brings me out of my thoughts.
“Hold on!” I tell the extremely impatient person waiting on the other side.
One knock, I get. Repeated knocks with little time in between tells me it’s going to be the one person in my life I often try to avoid.
When I open the door I find my brother standing with his hands on hips looking down and studying his thick black motorcycle boots. I swallow hard, hoping Travis hasn’t already mentioned last night to him. We haven’t had a chance to discuss how and when we plan to tell Ace. We were enjoying our morning before my apparent stupidity in opening my own front door ruined everything.
“Ace,” I greet, trying to be casual.
“Squirt,” he returns, pushing the door open as I step out of his way. “What are you doin’ today?”
Well, I had planned to hang out here and let Travis do whatever he wanted to my body before making a light lunch and settling in front of the television for a marathon of
Snapped.
I skip all the details and instead offer, “Nothing.”
He scans the room and zeroes in on the mess of glass and coins near the kitchen floor “What the fuck is that?”
“Oh, nothing. Travis dropped my swear jar.”
Cocking his eyebrow, but thankfully letting the mess slide, he asks, “Trav got you a swear jar?”
“Yeah, he thought it would help with my mouth.”
“Does he fuckin’ know you?”
“Apparently fucking
not,
” I quip, half smiling, and relax further as I see Ace’s eyes light up with humor.
“I was thinkin’ of going to visit Bean this afternoon. Thought I’d stop by to see if you’d like to ride out with me. I brought the bike.”
“I would.” That sounds like exactly what I need, but don’t voice my relief. “Give me a few minutes. I need a coat.”
“I’ll wait,” he says gently. “Take your time.” Pointing to the jar that “slipped,” he asks, “Want me to clean that up while I wait?”
Surprised by Ace’s offer to do anything other than lecture or yell at me, I smile and answer, “No, Travis can get it.”
Thirty minutes later, with my body already sore from last night, I climb on the back of Ace’s bike wearing Rae’s helmet and we make our way down a long stretch of road to the cemetery where we left our beloved Bean what feels like years ago.
As we walk to her resting space, Ace wraps his large arm around my shoulders and roughly brings me in to his side using his vast strength. This is our way of showing affection. In moments like these, I love my brother more than I could ever make him understand.
“It’s pretty here,” he observes out loud.
Sitting and getting comfortable next to Bean, I look up at him. His face has a lost expression. His stance appears questioning; completely unsure. Ace doesn’t do well with death, so a cemetery must act as kryptonite, challenging his always-badass exterior.
He continues talking while I stay quiet, holding back emotions that are threatening to spill. “She loved this place when she was alive, remember?” he asks softly, but doesn’t wait for my answer. “She said the trees would keep her cool in the summer and hide her from the wind in the winter.” Using his hand to remove the fallen leaves from her stone that look to have been there too long, his tone gets gentler as he asks, “Have you read her letter?”
“No.”
Crouching down beside me, I notice Ace’s face looks sad, causing my damning tears to blur my vision. “You should read it, squirt.”
“I will when I. . . .” I can’t finish. My body finally releases a sob of the grief I’ve felt since Travis overreacted the way he did and ruined our morning together.
More than anything, I wish Bean was still around to tell me how to handle this. I rarely ever sought advice from her because I had always assumed she was old and didn’t know what she was saying, but now as I look back, Bean always knew what she was talking about and usually could foresee when Ace and I were about to make a mistake.
Ace lands on his ass and pulls me to his side. He kisses the crown of my head and squeezes my shoulders tightly to him. “I miss her too, Sarah.”
“I want her back.”
“I know.”
“Everything is broken.”
Pulling me from him carefully, he moves the hair from my shoulder and puts it behind my back. “What’s broken?”
“Me.”
Leaning back in to me, he kisses my temple this time and holds me tighter to him. “You’re not broken, squirt. You’re crazy as fuck, but that’s not broken.”
“Funny, asshat.”
“It’s all I had.” He smiles. “You’re upset about somethin.’”
“I am.”
“Well?”
God, I want to tell him. I want to tell anyone who would listen and offer advice. More than anything, I want to tell Bean.
“Trav’s pissed at me.”
“I thought something happened there. What was it?”
Wiping the tears and pulling away from him, I lie. “Nothing worth talking about, but it’s been a bad morning.”
“Then you’re right where you should be.”
Surprised and happy he hasn’t pushed me to tell him what’s going on, I say, “I am. Thanks for bringing me with you, Aceface.”
He smiles shortly. “Anytime. I’m always around. It’s tough finding time since you don’t live with me anymore, but I’m here. I feel like fuckin’ shit about how you left. I’m gettin’ shit done and finishing up what I said I would. You can come back anytime.” He pauses, then says, “I’d like you to come back soon.”
“I like you now, Ace. I didn’t before.” I smile, breaking the tension around his eyes. “Let’s leave it alone and I’ll think about it. I don’t mind living with Travis, really I don’t.”
“I want you to know you’re safe.”
“Travis keeps me safe.” Although I don’t mention anything about last night as I pull the sleeves of my shirt down past my wrists.
“Do what you think’s right for you. I miss you a little, though.” He smiles, looking ahead in the distance.
“You miss me a lot,” I tell him but he doesn’t confirm. He doesn’t have to because I already know.
We sit in silence, listening to the area around us. Broken leaves rustling, cars passing by on the main road, and other mourners talking as they visit their friends and families in the last place they’ve left them.
A few minutes later, he starts to stand and asks, “Ready to go?”
His eyes scan the area carefully. Ace is
always
looking around, as if someone or something out there is waiting to attack and he needs to be readying himself for it.
“I guess.”
I stand next to him. He reaches out and his arm goes around my shoulders and brings me to his chest. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“Do I need to kick Trav’s ass?”
“Nah. I’ve got it.”
“I imagine if it comes down to that, you probably do.”
“It’ll be a challenge. If I need backup, I’ll call.”
Ace smiles down at me, swipes the remaining tears from my cheek with the front of his first finger. “Good, I’ve been lookin’ for a reason to kick his ass for some time now. That’ll give me one.”
Oh dear God in heaven. Ace, you have no idea what you just said.
When we got back to the apartment, Ace didn’t see me inside. He told me he was off to pick up Decklan from an overnight stay at Rae’s dad’s house. I sensed he needed what I did; time alone to process how seeing Bean’s grave made us feel. We both miss her so badly, and the space she left, to this day, still feels so empty.
CHAPTER TEN
Sarah
HOURS LATER, TRAV’S
still not home. I’ve cleaned the mess he made with the swear jar, picking up every piece of glass and coin in sight. I’ve scrubbed the kitchen, finished the laundry, and vacuumed the apartment. I’ve done all I can do to keep busy, but the entire time I’m thinking about everything that happened earlier.
Travis’s temper toward those who hurt me will never go away. Vicious words of anger and denial can be revoked with an apology, taken back and forgiven. Emotions are different. You can’t deny how you feel in another person’s company or the emotions they stir inside. It’s undeniable. Feelings can’t be manipulated; they aren’t lies.
I felt Travis’s words as he thought through the idea of Devon hurting me. For whatever reason, he thinks I can’t handle myself.
The more I clean, the more pissed off I get. Grabbing my phone off the charger, I check for messages. There’s nothing from Travis, but a selfie from a waitress at the diner, Lettie. She’s my only friend there. She’s crazy and me saying that about someone other than me says a lot.
Hours later, when I look at the clock on the living room wall, I start to grow more concerned. It’s almost seven o’clock. Travis left at eleven this morning. I wanted to call Rae hours ago, but getting her involved in this mess would cause problems between her and Ace. I know it would.
I could’ve told Ace what happened, but moments of calm between Ace and me are few and far between. Having his understanding when my life felt dark has always been comforting. Knowing Travis, Ace will find out what happened with Devon soon enough.
If I called Hayden, he’d worry Lacey. If I called Toby it would be the same for Marlee. I’m stuck alone and Trav’s words of anger in my head continue to echo. So, I’m doing nothing.
“I miss you, Beanie,” I say out loud, knowing she’d be the first person I’d call to help me sort through this mess.
The door to the apartment opens behind me and I turn around to find Hayden standing in it. He looks stressed. His face is pale and his hands are clenched at his sides. He shakes his head as though signaling me to stay quiet. I wait him out.
His first words explain nothing. “Sarah, you need to stay calm.”
“Where’s Travis?” I look behind him and find no one.
His voice rises slightly in repeated warning. “Sarah, stay calm.”
Fuck. Why do men think it’s a good idea, for any reason, to say that to a woman?
Standing from the couch, I walk toward him and stop mid step when I see Travis.
Travis is a mess. The cut lip, caked with blood, has stained the shirt he grabbed on his way out. His hand is wrapped in a towel and it, too, is stained with blood. The top of his right eye is red.
“What did he do?” My question, aimed at Hayden, goes unanswered. Hayden moves aside to let Travis farther into the apartment.
“I need to go, Lacey’s waiting in the car with Liv. She’s pissed as fuck and to avoid her coming in here and making things worse, I told her I’d give him to you and be back out.”
“Hayden?” I call before he turns to Travis.
He doesn’t answer, but his head tilts to the ceiling as if he’s trying to avoid my demand for his explanation.
“He’ll tell you,” he answers, before walking out of the apartment, leaving the door open and Travis standing there. “If he doesn’t, call me.” Hayden looks at Travis with narrowed eyes. “I posted bail; my dad will handle the charges if there are any.”
Travis’s eyes come to mine, but he says nothing. I swallow hard, taking in his appearance, and ask, “Did you say bail? What charges?”
Hayden turns to Travis and puts his hand to his shoulder and squeezes. “He’ll tell you.”
Travis nods, and with the hand not bandaged, grabs Hayden’s as it still sits on his shoulder. He slaps it hard before Hayden looks back at me.
“Sarah,” he starts in a way I don’t appreciate. “Don’t freak the fuck out. He’s fine, but he’s going to be in some pain. If you need me to come back later, I will. Just call or text Lacey or me.”
“What did he do?” I ask Hayden again and watch as Travis makes his way farther into the apartment.
“He fucked up,” Hayden responds. “Love does that to people. I’d know.”
Fucking hell, Hayden knows about us now?
“I’ll call,” I confirm.
“Take care, man,” he whispers to Trav before closing the door behind him.
Travis comes the rest of the way inside. He takes a seat at the small dining room table.
“Can I get you something?” I ask quietly, wondering what he’s thinking. Other than the shame etched on his face, I don’t see any traces of the anger from hours ago.
“Ice and a towel would be a good start.”
Moving quickly, I turn to the kitchen and my hands shake while preparing what he’s asked for. I take a deep breath and finish rinsing the towel in cold water before going back into the living room.
I bend down and grab his hand carefully, open the cloth wrapping, and find three of his knuckles are split open. He winces in pain, but I keep going, removing the bandage as painlessly as I can.
“What did you do?”
“I fucked up, but it felt good.”
“Travis,” I whisper. “Tell me what happened.”
The cold cloth I’m using to clean the cut must sting, and he jerks his hand back. Without thinking of his pain, only infection, I grab it again and continue cleaning the area around it first before getting to the cut itself.
“I went to talk to your pal Devon, is what I did.”
Out of surprise and fear, I stop what I’m doing and squeeze his hand. My insecurities don’t matter; I can’t change what’s done.
“No. You didn’t do that,” I deny.
“I did,” he confirms.
“Why, Travis? Why would you . . .”
As Travis leans his body closer to mine, I take a breath as he winces from the pain. “Because he’s a fuckin’ asshole. That’s why. He’ll never bother you again.”
He sits back in his chair and stares down at me. I’m trying to avoid his eyes, but I can’t help myself as I start to cry. The tears fall, blurring my vision as I try to fix his hand.
This has been an emotional day and I feel as though I’m drowning in the chaos that Travis and I being together has already caused. This is what I feared and Ace hasn’t been factored in yet.