Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1) (21 page)

Bree told him. Of course she did.

I motion him to follow me outside, once he does, I shut the patio door behind us. I light a cigarette and hand it to him before lighting a second one for myself.

“Parker was here a few weeks back,” I tell him with a shrug.

Spencer takes a puff of his cigarette and exhales slowly. “Did you sleep with him?”

“Seriously?” I ask, shocked that he would even think I would do that to Bree. I shake my head in disbelief and then go on. “He came to talk. This time I let him.”

Spencer stares at me silently for a moment, trying to decide how to approach this conversation without causing too much conflict between the two of us. “Care to tell me what it is he wanted to talk about?”

I flick my cigarette to remove the excess ash. “He’s trying to mend things. He wants to make things right between us. I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “It wasn’t complicated a few weeks ago,” he points out. “A few weeks ago you said he was in your past forever and that you
never
loved him. Even though I knew you were lying, that’s what you said.”

“I wasn’t lying,” I say with narrowed eyes. “He
is
in my past. I
don’t
love him.”

“Oh, we’re going there again? You might not love him anymore, but you
did
,” he says. “I don’t know why you can’t admit that.”

“I’m impossible?”

“Yeah! If it’s all in the past, why let him in the door to dredge it all up again, huh? Why are you reconnecting with him if you say you want his ‘fucked up world’ out of your life forever?”

I shake my head. If he’s trying to piss me off, he’s doing a really great job. “You’re honestly going to throw my words back in my face?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“Damn right I am! And while we’re on the subject, what exactly does this ‘fucked up world’ consist of anyway? You ever going to tell me what happened that night? You want me to be ok with him trying to reconnect? It’s time you tell me what happened.”

I shake my head. “I can’t do that.”

“You can’t do that. Of course, you can’t. You don’t love him, you don’t care about him in any way, but you can’t tell anyone his secrets! That makes tons of sense.”

“Spencer…”

“No,” He shakes his head stubbornly. “I’ve been Mr. Nice Guy about this for a long time. I’ve kept my nose out of it because I love you, and that’s what you wanted. But if he’s going to be coming over here, spending time with you, trying to
make it right
—whatever the fuck that means—then I need to know that you’re safe. I don’t trust him, I never have.”

It worries me that Spencer is this scared of Parker. Am I making a mistake allowing him back into my life like this? “Do you trust me?”

Instead of answering me, he throws his hardly smoked cigarette over the railing and proceeds to demand answers. His voice is rough and full of angry emotion. “Tell me what happened that night. Did he hurt you at all? The guy that attacked you, you said Parker knew him, was he a friend of his? Was it Tris Gallagher? I fucking need to know!”

“No.” I shake my head and throw my cigarette over the railing after his. I reach over to him and wrap my arms around his waist in a comforting embrace. “God no, It wasn’t a friend. And he stopped it. He did
everything
in his power to stop it. I promise you.”

“He didn’t hurt you?” Spencer asks more calmly now, resting his arms around the small of my back.

“He would never,” I reply, pushing my cheek against his chest.

“Why did you spend all of this past year making us think he was so horrible, and now he’s suddenly Mr. Perfect?”

“I didn’t say he was Mr. Perfect,” I say, pulling away from him.

“Just answer the question.”

“Because his life scares me, all right? I was scared of what continuing to see him would do to me. I was scared that what happened that night might happen again. Ok?”

“What happened?” he asks again, exasperated.

“I can’t tell you!”

“Fuck!”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

Spencer takes a deep and steady breath, attempting to regain his composure. I haven’t seen him this much out of sorts and emotionally charged since Mark’s death. “So now he wants to be your friend, is that it?” he asks.

I shrug. “He was here to apologize for everything, and that’s all it was. No kissing, no reconciliation. I am with Bree now and he knows that. I haven’t even seen him since then,” I add. I don’t tell him about texting Parker last night, though. I don’t think he needs to know that right now.

“You know Bree thinks you’re cheating on her, right?”

“I sigh. “I told her it was you, I don’t know why she can’t just accept that.”

“Huh, I wonder, maybe it’s because it
wasn’t
me and you won’t tell her who it
actually
was.”

I shoot him a dirty look. “Did you tell her it was you?”

He nods, and looks at me with sadness in his eyes. It breaks my heart. “You know that I did. But for the record, I’m really fucking pissed at you for putting me in that position.”

“What else was I supposed to tell her?”

“The truth is always an option.”

I shake my head. “That’s not an option,” I say.

“Well, I can’t keep lying for you. I’m not doing that again. You got it?”

“I got it,” I say quietly, truly feeling horrible about the position I put him in. I should have never brought him into the middle of all of this.

He reaches out to me and I move into his arms once again, accepting his warm hug. “I love you,” he says with a shaky sigh, kissing the top of my hair.

I lay my face against his chest and just breathe.

Bree

“Skylar and Spencer are hiding something from me,” I tell Evan as we are walking, hand in hand, along the boardwalk in Queensland a few days later.

It was my idea to travel out of town for our most recent date, and as soon as I’d suggested it Evan was happy to oblige. The minute we crossed into the Queensland town limits I sensed a heaviness lifting off of his shoulders and a much calmer and relaxed version of himself emerge.

“Like what?” he asks.

I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should bring up the details of what’s been bothering me the last few days. I’m worrying that Skylar’s cheating on me as I’m off doing that very thing to her. Telling Evan could make this thing so much more complicated than it already is.

I shrug as casually as possible, not wanting to make this out to be a big deal. “Skylar’s aunt says she had a guy sleep over the other night.”

“Oh?” he replies, arching a questioning brow.

I’m not sure what to make of his response, so I continue on as though he had asked me to tell him more. “Skylar told me it was just Spencer but when I confronted him about it, he was all over the place with his answer. He’s lying to me. They both are.”

Evan’s posture seems to stiffen as he stares off into the water, avoiding my gaze entirely. He doesn’t let go of my hand, but the grip loosens. I shouldn’t have told him. He’s upset that it bothers me that Skylar might be seeing someone else.

“What’s wrong?” I ask quietly.

“Nothing,” he replies, but I’m not convinced. I upset him.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you by saying that. I know that I shouldn’t be talking to you about this. The lines in our… relationship are blurred and I’m not really sure yet about what I can and can’t share with you. It’s confusing.”

He winces slightly and turns to face me, letting go of my hand entirely. “I hate that the lines even have to be blurred,” he says. “I want you to just be mine. I know it’s selfish, but this is hard enough without reminders that when I’m not with you, you’re with her.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I can’t tell her yet.”

“If she’s seeing some guy, then why not?” he replies with more force than expected.

“She doesn’t
see
guys… not anymore.”

He sighs, reaching for my hand once again, and entwining his fingers with mine. “There’s something I think I should tell you,” he says quietly. The tone of his voice makes me nervous. He knows something about this that I don’t.

I look into his eyes expectantly, waiting for whatever it is he knows to be revealed. He hesitates and reaches for a strand of my hair that’s blowing into my eyes. The simple act makes my body blush everywhere. I smile at him and as I do, something catches my eye beyond him.

Someone.

Off in the distance, I see a figure appear to be watching us from under a shaded tree. Even though we are over one hundred kilometers away from home, I know almost immediately that the figure is Parker Michelson. I move myself away from Evan.

Startled by my change in demeanor, Evan turns around to see what it is that has me so spooked. When he sees Parker walking toward us, his posture changes completely, and his body repositions into a defensive stance.

“Well, well. Look at this. Bree Porter decided to give guys a try,” Parker bellows obnoxiously. His face is full of fresh gashes and bruises from an altercation he must have had very recently since they are hardly healed at all. He shoots me a wicked smile that rips into my gut and makes me want to slap him in the face.

I clench my fists angrily. “That’s none of your business.”

His smile grows even wider. A cut on his lower lip splits and begins to bleed. He licks the blood away quickly, not allowing his smile to falter. “What brings you and Evan all the way to Queensland anyway?” he asks, shooting Evan a devilish wink.

Evan’s face twists into an angry glare. “Walk away, Michelson,” he replies coolly.

“Oh, come on now, didn’t Bree tell you that we have a mutual connection, her and I?” he says to Evan.

His words make me want to puke. Nothing about him is connected to me. Nothing.

“Fuck you!” I spit, venomously.

I can see the amusement dancing in the shadows of his eyes. “Bree and I
share
Skylar. Don’t we, Bree?”

Evan flinches slightly and I can tell that something in Parker’s words really affect him, but I have no clue what it could be. “It’s time to leave, Parker. Walk away,” Evan says, somehow staying calm and collected in spite of how upset Parker is obviously making the both of us.

“Skylar was mine before she was Bree’s. Isn’t that right, Bree?” He stares right into my eyes as he says the words, and I want to convulse into a fit of violent acts onto his face.

I lunge forward. “You fucking son of a bitch!” I scream as I pound my fists over and over into his chest. For whatever reason, Parker doesn’t react to this. He doesn’t push me off, he doesn’t smile, he simply lets me hit him. Even through my mad rage, I find this peculiar.

Evan reaches his arms around my waist and pulls me back. “You have five seconds, Michelson, walk away!” he growls.

Parker lifts his hands in the air, feigning defeat, and takes a few steps backward. He shoots me one last condescending smile before turning around calmly and walking away.

I only look to Evan once Parker is completely out of my sight.

“What the hell was that?” Evan asks in disbelief.

I take in a deep and shaky breath. “He’s an asshole,” I reply, attempting to will my nerves calm. My heart is slamming in my chest and the intensity of it makes me feel nauseated.

Evan’s eyes are wide and uneasy. “I don’t know what it is he did to you Bree, but being an asshole isn’t usually enough grounds for assault.”

“Trust me,” I say. “He deserved it.”

“I don’t doubt it. But what exactly did he do?” he asks curiously, creases of concern etched across his forehead.

I’m torn by what I should tell him and so I think over my response carefully before finally speaking. “His history with Skylar isn’t a good one.”

“So they
do
have a history,” he replies thoughtfully.

“Why do you say it like that?” I ask. “Did someone tell you they had a history?”

He shakes his head, “It’s something I saw a few weeks ago. An exchange, I guess.”

“What kind of exchange? Between who?”

“Skylar and Parker, in class, they were looking at each other…actually they were staring at each other. It was intense but not in a bad way. It felt like…like I was watching something intimate. Does that make sense?”

No! That doesn’t make sense at all!

I want to scream at him for even suggesting something so outrageous. I try to keep calm and collected, but my brain feels fuzzy as I attempt to understand what it is Evan is telling me. “There is nothing
intimate
about Parker and Skylar,” I hiss finally, letting my composure fall away and my disdain for Parker shine through.

“She was looking right at him, right into his eyes and he was looking back and they both looked… sad. There was no anger there, I’m serious.”

I shake my head stubbornly. “You’re wrong,” I say firmly. “You saw wrong.”

He looks unconvinced but doesn’t try to argue further. I consider digressing the conversation since he isn’t pushing it along, but something inside of me makes me feel the need to tell him the truth. If nothing else, I want to convince him that what he saw couldn’t be what he thinks it is.

“He raped her,” I say quietly.