TUCKER: Valley Enforcers, #3 (17 page)

The doubt, malicious and creeping, skipped over and over in my head like a scratched CD. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was lying. I wanted to believe that she loved me and only me, but the little devil on my shoulder told me otherwise. The world didn’t hand me good things without giving me something bad as well, and the rug was bound to be torn from under my feet.

I couldn’t stay without hurting myself – or worse, Emily – and fucking up our relationship.

I couldn’t leave without fucking it up, either.

Her broken expression was breaking me. Her eyes told the story, and I made the decision that sealed our fate. She didn’t trust me, and I didn’t trust her. Our foundation was cracked, and I didn’t know how to fix it. Hell, I didn’t know if I
could
fix it. And that hurt worse than the possibility that she still loved her ex-fiancé.

I did the only thing that would keep me from shifting right there and tearing her quirky little house apart before going feral and bringing a reign of hell down around us. My mental health was on the line, but more importantly, Emily’s safety was being threatened. By
me
. I grabbed my duffle bag and left, leaving little pieces of myself in my wake. I felt my bones ache and my body swell with a shift. By some divine will I kept the beast inside. I didn’t know if I’d make it back to the Valley, but driving into a tree was better than having my bear go crazy around Emily.

I forced myself not to look at her while I threw myself into my truck, but just before I slammed my door shut I heard her voice. Barely a whisper and so raw it shredded the last parts of my sanity, the words were a bullet straight through my heart.

“You promised.”

I drove half shifted and with a lead foot all the way back to the Valley, barely making it onto reserve land before I shifted. It was dangerous to shift in such an emotional state, but shifting was the only response to feelings that powerful. If I went feral, at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the razorblades in my heart.

I wanted to blame myself almost as badly as I wanted to blame Emily. I needed a scapegoat, but I couldn’t make myself hate her any more than I could make myself stop loving her. I could try for the rest of my life to convince myself that Em wasn’t my intended and I’d never believe it.

The world gave me a glorious gift. For just a little while, I thought I had it. I thought I had the love I saw surrounding me in the clan. My heart wasn’t heavy with regret or melancholy; it was so full of love I felt like Dr. Frankenstein would have to stich me back together. All the long nights, broken bones, and haunting memories were worth it. I had Emily. I didn’t expect her, and I sure as hell didn’t know what to do with her… but I had her. At least for a little while.

The world I built for myself – for us – in a few short days was just a fancy fucking sheet thrown over some old furniture. My heart hurt so badly that I felt it in my ribcage, pressing against me like a plague that would send me to an early grave.

I stayed in form longer than I should have. My second skin started to feel more like my first, and the thought of shifting back sent me running deeper into the trees. Usually a shift helped me work through my problems and make sense of the clutter inside my head. This was an escape. I was running from my problems, not trying to fix them. And I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to return to a world where I had to think about anything more than finding a good spot to sleep and catching some fish in the pond.

I did settle down beneath a heavy tree, still void of leaves. It had been years since I slept in my bear form, and there was something so inherently right about giving up control to the other half of my soul. It wasn’t the best sleep I’d ever had. Nothing would ever compare to having Emily’s thin frame wrapped around me, emitting enough heat to keep me warm in a blizzard.

When I woke the sun barely filtered through the trees and I was human again. Naked and curled into a tiny ball in the snow, I was as alone as I’d ever been. And this time, I let myself cry.

Emily

Echo’s head lifted, her wet nose bumping against my arm. When I did nothing, she jumped down off the bed and circled to my side. The blankets were pulled high on my shoulders, but that didn’t stop her from tugging on the little piece of comforter that dangled over the side. I huffed and kicked my feet up, tucking the blanket under them. It was too cold in the house. Even bundled up in my thickets pajamas and buried beneath a mountain of blankets, I couldn’t shake the icicles inside my chest. They were in my bloodstream. I was poisoned with grief, and I was too tired to fight it.

The faint scent of pine needles tickled my nose. It had been a week since Tucker left; his scent was still embedded everywhere in the house. It didn’t matter if I slept on the couch or in bed, his memory pressed into me like a grim reaper. I had, at least, gotten to the point where the unique blend of man and animal didn’t make me cry.

I hadn’t felt so empty – broken – in my entire life. Not even when Connor left. It hurt when he left, and at the time I thought it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I was as humiliated as I was brokenhearted. Looking back, the pain I felt when I listened to his voicemails was nothing more than the culmination of fear and grief from a naïve girl whose longest and most serious relationship was ending. I didn’t have a constant, and the plans I crafted for my future were shattered. Of course, I loved Connor. I loved him so much that I was almost convinced he was my intended. I thought my world was over when he left. That pain was only a fraction of what I felt when Tucker walked out of the front door with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

After Connor, I promised myself I wouldn’t be so influenced by another person. I wanted to be more independent. I didn’t rely on him for everything, but I liked the assurance of having him as a partner. The cute notes he stuck around our apartment and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled with joy when he told me he loved me – the assurance that I mattered to someone, someone who wanted
me
– that was what I relied on. As much as I wanted to hate Connor for what he did, he was a great boyfriend and fiancé. The whole leaving me for his intended thing kind of overshadowed all of the good, but it wasn’t like we didn’t have a good relationship. I loved him, and I loved the comforts of being with him.

It took me weeks to get over the sting, but I picked myself up and bettered myself.
I’ve come too far to let myself fall back down like this
. But it wasn’t like Tucker pushed me down a well of heartache. We were both to blame for our miseries. I climbed down the well myself; he tethered the rope around my waist, but singed it with the fire in his eyes before he left. I was trapped at the bottom with no way up. I wasn’t sure I wanted to feel whole again.

There was a noise at the front of the house that grabbed Echo’s attention. She stopped nipping at my feet and let out a cautionary bark before stalking through the open bedroom door. I rolled over again and shielded my face from the sunlight that peeked through the slit in the curtains. Kate’s voice carried through the otherwise quiet house as she talked to Echo. I counted down the seconds until she’d appear in the doorway to scold me. Again. Her nightly visits were clockwork.

“You’re still in bed? Jesus, Emily.” She circled the foot of the bed and tugged at the blanket, just like Echo did. When I didn’t budge, she sighed and climbed up next to me. “You didn’t go to work today.”

“Nope.”

I hadn’t gone all week. I was only scheduled four out of the last seven days, but I used up my only two sick days and racked up two points on my attendance sheet for the other days. Human Resources wasn’t happy with me, and I got a passive aggressive text from one of the other nurse aids. I felt like I had a never ending hangover from hell, despite not drinking anything but a bottle of cheap wine that first night with Kate, and my body screamed every time I tried to move. How was I supposed to take care of another person when I could barely take care of myself? I’d been at the center long enough to build a good relationship with the administration, and though they were annoyed they took my flu excuse and said my points would be removed with a doctor’s excuse. They wouldn’t get one, but they were too short staffed to fire me. The new girls that were taking my hours would quit in a few weeks, a new batch would fill their shoes, and I’d go back to my normal schedule.

“Have you even gotten out of bed? You smell like sweat and Cheetos.”

I sat up and pointed to a crinkled bag on my nightstand, hidden behind a stack of magazines and a desk lamp. “Fritos. Nice try, though.”

“Emily, you can’t stay in here forever. You need to shower. Eat something that doesn’t come from a bag or your freezer. Go outside. Call him. Do something other than lie in bed and wallow in your misery.”

“I’m not wallowing in my misery. I’m just tired, and I don’t feel well. My period started the other day, so now I’m crampy and bloated.”

Kate’s lips twitched. “You’re a mess, honey.”

“Tell me about it,” I murmured. I stretched under the blankets, my muscles protesting the movement. I knew the dangers of lying in one spot too long, but the only time I got up was to use the restroom or raid my near empty kitchen.

“So here’s the game plan.”

“No game plans. I’ll be better tomorrow. Just leave some Advil and cookies next to the bed and go home. Don’t you have a date tonight?”

“That was last night. It’s Saturday, Emily.” She hopped off my bed and put her hands on her hips. “Do you want me to get pissed off or give you a motivational speech about female empowerment? I have both memorized.”

She managed to get a smile from me. “Neither. How was your date?”

“We can talk about that later. You have to get out of bed. Let me be a good best friend and help you. You’ve been pushing me out all week. I know it hurts, Em, but you’re not alone.”

Em.
It didn’t sound right when she said it. But she was right. I was being a bad friend, and all she wanted to do was help. I lost countless hours – days, even – in bed trapped in my own head. If it was Saturday, I had a mandatory group shift the next afternoon. The Silvers would be breathing down my neck and handing me a stack of fines if I didn’t show up. It was time to rejoin society. My heart was heavy and I wanted to crawl back into the little fort of blankets keeping me safe from everything but my own demons, but I stood up and stretched.

“Fine. I’m up. Are you happy now?”

She shrugged and started gathering all the blankets from my bed, tossing them onto the ground along with my pillows. “Shower, then we’ll talk. I’m going to toss your sheets into the washer because they smell like a locker room. Has Echo been out lately?”

“She probably has to go.”

“I’ll take care of her. Just go take care of that stench. Shave your armpits, too, Chewbacca. Put on something that isn’t pajamas when you’re done. We’re going to head into town and have dinner and get some fro-yo. My treat.”

“Whatever happened to baby steps?”

“We passed baby steps four days ago. You need to eat something fresh, and it will do you good to go outside. Just listen to me. When have I ever been wrong?”

“You once told me that spaghetti squash tasted just as good as the real thing. You think there are words out there that rhyme with ‘orange’ that haven’t been discovered yet. You’re a secret One Direction fan. You told me that Halloween party was a costume one, and when I showed up I was the only one dressed up.”

She held her hands up, laughing. “To be fair, I showed up in costume, too.”

“You came dressed as Betty Draper. I was Merida, complete with a bow and arrow. See a difference, there?”

“At least some people thought you were doing a period piece Katniss,” She snorted.

“That was so embarrassing.”

“It’ll be even more embarrassing when I make you go outside smelling like you rolled around in garbage with big knots in your hair.” She clapped her hand. “Chop, chop! I’m hungry and ready to tell you about my date.”

I lifted my shirt and sniffed, grimacing when the rancid smell hit me. I had heightened senses, but I guess I was so used to my own odors that I didn’t realize how badly I stunk. I headed for the bathroom with Kate hot on my trail, my sheets wrapped up in her arms. She held them away from her chest like they were hazardous – I wasn’t positive that they weren’t.

As much as I wanted to be back in bed, it felt nice to be up and moving. I tried not to look at my reflection in the mirror; my hair was matted and knotted, my eyes puffy, and my face paler than normal. It wasn’t a look I recommended, and brushing my hair out was going to have me in tears. I sprayed my heavy-duty detangler, but even then I snapped a few bristles off my brush. I tried not to imagine Tucker behind me in the shower, his rough hands trailing down my stomach while he nibbled on my neck. The second I pushed one memory out, another flooded in.

I was beginning to feel like I’d never rid myself of his ghost. How was I supposed to function when everything reminded me of him? When every thought somehow led back to him?

I wanted to be mad at him for accusing me of still loving Connor. I was at first. I was pissed that he had the balls to say something like that when I only had eyes for him. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel
something
for Connor. Seeing him brought back old memories. It reopened the wounds that were fresher than I’d like to admit. God, I hated seeing him with her… Daisy. She wasn’t what I expected, but seeing her tiny little baby bump was too much. Seeing him period was too much.

I wasn’t still in love with Connor, but I loved him. We were together for two years. He was the first guy I lived with. The first one I truly loved; we may not have been intended, but we were committed enough to want to get married. It was a shitty idea conjured up by two kids with barely any life experiences, but it seemed right at the time. A part of me would always love Connor for the memories he gave me. It was a nostalgic kind of love that I was still trying to figure out.

A lot of my time beneath my covers was spent thinking about Connor. I thought about him almost as much as I thought about Tucker. I hated myself for entertaining the ideas Tucker put in my head, but I needed to know if I had any romantic feelings for Connor. I owed Tucker that much. He had my heart completely, and he always would. I was angry at myself for even thinking about Connor when my heart was so shattered over losing my intended, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I spent so long hating Connor that I forgot that we
were
good together. We had the parts to make a great pair, but they didn’t add up right. Seeing him made me realize that there were still parts of me that recognized the love we shared. For a few minutes I even thought I missed him. Then I realized that Tucker was right – I did still love him, just not in the way he thought.

In some ways, seeing Connor and Daisy at the coffee shop was great. It was cathartic to finally let go of the hate and grief and finally realize that I could love our memories – love him – but not be
in love
with him. It was okay to cherish the good even though it ended bad. My life didn’t have to be a made for TV drama. I was in control, and that’s what I wanted all along.

But Tucker, God… he looked so betrayed. I would’ve felt the same way if I found out he had previously been engaged. I thought he cared enough about me to be by my side while I worked through my problems. He loved me. He admitted that we were intended. But he walked away, despite his promise that he’d stay. He didn’t love me enough to trust me, and that thought kept me up at night.

I finished my shower quickly, unable to rinse my memories down the drain. They hung in the corner like a poltergeist while I blow dried my hair and followed me across the hall into my bedroom, spreading out on the bare mattress while I riffled through my clothes. My hands brushed across the only t-shirt I had of Tucker’s, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. He joked about taking it back with him, but decided he’d leave it if he could get one of my shirts in exchange. I was a stick compared to him, but he shrugged and said he wanted to smell me in his bed. I pushed the shirt to the back of the closet, not letting myself cry. I wasn’t even really sure there were any tears left.

I wanted to climb into a paper bag. Knowing Kate, she’d want to go somewhere trendy. More for her sake – I didn’t want to embarrass her by looking like a frumpy mess – I dressed in a thin maroon sweater with a navy blue and cream geo pattern and a pair of skinny jeans. My hair was crazier than normal, rebelling after not being properly taken care of for a week. I didn’t care enough to fight the bouncy ringlets, so I left them as they were. I looked like a corpse, so I returned to the bathroom to slather the most basic makeup over my face. I still looked like a zombie after the foundation and mascara, but it was all I was willing to do.

When I emerged from the bathroom, I found Kate with her feet propped up watching
Chopped
with Echo at her side. She looked up from her phone and gave me a look that said ‘not too shabby’ before patting my pup on her head and standing up. “You almost look like a human being. Congratulations.”

“Yeah, well, even this was taxing.”

Kate cooed at Echo, “Your mommy is such a drama queen. Yes she is!”

“She hates when you do that.” I hopped on one foot as I slipped into my boots. “It’s really patronizing. How would you feel if someone came around talking to you like you were an infant?”