“Come on, say it. I was asking for it, right?”
“No, but why…just why? I don’t get it.”
She gave a defiant toss of her head. “Maybe he’s a great fuck. Get that?”
The words wouldn’t even compute right away; his brain wouldn’t accept them. He stormed blindly past her, almost reaching the bathroom door before he turned back. “Congratulations. I hope that fuck was worth it. I really do.”
She only blinked at him, looking small and lost. And he wished as he stripped off his jeans and stepped under the hot shower spray that the water would wash away some of this chaos in his mind. Standing with his hands braced against the wall, he let the stream hit the back of his neck and the tension between his shoulder blades. Nothing would melt the knot there, not for days.
Was that all she cared about? Living wild and free and doing whatever she wanted, damn the consequences? That was fine for her. But if that was the way it was, she need not try her luck here. He’d been through too much shit to waste his time on someone like that. What he could use was some time away—maybe Shelly would let him take the girls to his parents’ lake house for a few days. They could fish, hike the trails, take the boat out. The outdoors never failed to clear his head.
He’d believed in her. Stood up for her.
“Jared?”
Turning his head and peeking over his arm, he could see her vague outline standing on the other side of the fogged shower door. He didn’t answer her, instead grabbing his bottle of shampoo and squeezing out a dollop into his palm. If she wanted to talk, she could talk.
“I know, okay? I’ve heard it all from everyone. Brian and Ghost and Jan and…everyone. You know that. I didn’t listen, I like to think I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself, but this time I got in over my head. What do you want me to say? I’m sorry and I’ll never do it again? I won’t do it again. But I won’t apologize to you, because I didn’t do anything to you. You got involved in this all on your own.”
“That explains why you came here when Brian got attacked.”
“I told you why I did that! I didn’t ask you if I could stay. You told me to stay.”
“You knew I would.”
She flung the shower door open, and suddenly he could see her clearly, her tear-streaked cheeks, her welling eyes. “Bullshit! You think I came here looking for…what, your charity? Your chivalry?” she scoffed. “Motherfucker, please.”
“Don’t talk to me like that,” he grated, voice low and shaking, and her entire being seemed to pause. He didn’t lift a finger or take a step toward her, but she took two paces back from the look in his eyes, her own wide with surprise. “I’ve never called you names. I’ve never disrespected you like that, and I never would. I’m not one of your drug-addled fuckboys, Starla, and that won’t fly here.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.” He turned back to his task, soaping his hair, trying to calm his raging pulse. When seconds ticked by and he refused to look at her, she made a strangled sound and slammed his shower door hard enough to rattle the glass. Then she was gone.
***
Where to go? Where the fuck should she go? There was always her parents’—nope. Or Julie’s… She barely thought of that place as home anymore, but she guessed it was. With Doug on the couch flinging insults at her and eating them out of house and home. Pathetic. She hadn’t even bothered to look for a new place, which had been on her list of things to do. She was as bad as everyone said, wasn’t she? Fucked-up all the way around, irresponsible, light years away from having her shit together.
She didn’t know what to do, and she couldn’t stop sobbing. She knew Jared could hear her. Embarrassment ate a hole through her stomach as she plowed through her pile of clothes still in the guest room, shoving them into her duffel bag. Some of her toiletries were still in his bathroom, but fuck it. She would buy new before she went back in there with him.
And even through it all, something in her pleaded for him to come in and make it okay, to be the forgiving sweetheart she knew he was, and that was maybe the most pathetic thing of all. They should be celebrating Max’s capture right now, but instead of fielding his perfectly reasonable questions in a calm manner, she’d opened her big fucking mouth. He’d just spent all night trying to save her. The very least he deserved from her were some answers.
But how could she give them when she didn’t even know them herself?
Maybe he would come if she only gave him a few minutes to cool off. Then she hated herself for even thinking that. She needed to get the fuck out of here, out of his life, out of his kids’ lives. He didn’t want someone like her hanging around his daughters—that was understandable, wasn’t it? All the nice things he’d ever said about her, all the times he’d made her think she was worthy, and he’d been wrong all along. He wasn’t willing to take a chance on her. Fair enough.
Once she had all her belongings in her bag, she fled up the hallway toward the living room, stopping to wipe her eyes and take one last look at the pictures hanging on the wall beside the door. Ashley and Mia, both with big grins, each holding a rod and reel at the end of which they proudly showed off their catches of the day. Jared knelt between them, his eyes electric blue, looking more gorgeous than any man had a right. Precious, all three of them. She hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time with the girls, but she would miss them. The pizza, the hair braids, the paints and softball games… She’d had a foolish fantasy that her future held more of those things.
What an idiot.
Starla glanced back over her shoulder at the entrance to the hallway. All was silent beyond it; she couldn’t hear the shower anymore. Please, Jared, stop me. I am sorry. I am so sorry…
Her bag dropped to the floor beside her, and she ran for his bedroom, heart in her throat. They could work through this. They could.
In his room, the curtains were pulled. Even in the spare light, she could see he was already in bed, the comforter pulled up to his tousled wet hair. If he was awake—and he had to be—he knew she stood there, he had to, yet he didn’t turn to look at her. What to say to the back of his head?
There was nothing to say. His silence said it all.
She fled the house before he could hear her sobs again.
In the end, she did go back to Julie’s. Obviously still sore from their argument the day Starla left, her roommate didn’t seem ecstatic to see her, but Starla couldn’t fault her for that. The feeling was mutual. She spent most of her time in her bedroom with her earbuds in, emerging from her cocoon of misery only to eat and work. Doug was in rare form, spending most of his days passed out drunk. At least that kept him quiet, except for his snoring.
She thought of Jared every moment, waking or sleeping. His eyes, his laugh, his smile. His voice, dark and sex roughened. The way he kissed her. Jesus. To think she’d been so worried about fucking up with him, and all along it had been something she’d already done and couldn’t change that would be their downfall. She couldn’t win, so why even play the game? This had been her shot, her one chance at greatness. And she’d blown it before she could even get started.
Work and drawing and her clients were her only consolation, but even that was torture because being at Dermamania reminded her of Brian. Still she worked herself almost to exhaustion, catching up on the clients she’d had to ditch on and tackling her waiting list. Brian… God, she’d been such a horrible friend. All this time worrying about herself—what the hell did she know about suffering? As soon as she was finished up at the shop the Wednesday after leaving Jared’s, she drove straight to the hospital.
Starla didn’t know what to expect when she gently tapped on Brian’s door, but it certainly wasn’t the sight that greeted her as Candace answered her knock, bright-eyed and smiling. As soon as she saw Starla standing there, she pitched herself into her arms, and Starla catching her was the only thing that kept the girl from tumbling out into the hallway.
“Hey there.” Starla laughed, relief an
d guilt warring for dominance in her heart. “Looks like it’s a good day.”
“The best day. Come in!” Candace seized Starla’s hand and dragged her inside the room, where it was bright with sunshine and cheerful with an abundance of flowers—such a change from the austere conditions in the ICU. Brian sat propped up in his bed amid a mountain of pillows, grinning at her as she stepped into the room. In an amazing improvement, the only tube running into his body was that of the IV in his arm. His hair was a mess, his smile was bright, and from the weight he’d lost, his dimples seemed to dig even deeper into his cheeks. He was quite possibly the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen, but not in the usual tortured-love kind of way. She’d honestly wondered if she’d ever see him smile again, see his impossibly blue eyes recognize her again, yet here he was, tough and healthy and beating the odds. Macy and Ghost stood on the other side of the room, both looking equally relieved and happy.
“Oh my God,” Starla choked out, rushing forward to give him a gentle hug, the words coming out a garbled, emotional, run-together mess. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the strength in the arm clutching her to him. All that mattered was that he was still here to hug her—that he still wanted to hug her—after everything that had happened.
“Starla,” he said into her shoulder, when neither one of them seemed able to let go, “I’ve never been so glad that you smoke in my life.”
Everyone broke up in laughter. Everyone except for her, who only sniveled and clutched him harder. “Me too.”
“Thanks for being my hero.” She felt the firm, warm press of his lips on her cheek, there and gone in a heartbeat. And she felt…
Joy. Nothing but pure, unfiltered, unadulterated joy. No wild surging of lust, no guilt-washed yearnings of what could have been or should have been. He was here, he was with his family and friends, and all was right with the world.
“Oh stop.” She laughed, planting a kiss of her own on his cheek and finally letting go to wipe her eyes. “I wasn’t a hero, I was just the first one there. Any one of us would have done the same for you.”
“Well…” Ghost drawled, and Macy smacked him in the chest while Brian gave him a withering look. “I’m just saying. I might have finished my smoke first if I were her. Y’all know I’m playing.” Laughing, he hugged Macy to halt her continuing assault on him. Somewhere in the midst of the happy chatter that followed, Starla caught Ghost’s gaze, and they shared a moment of what she thought was mutual understanding. Of shared hardships and trauma and confusion and lessons learned. She’d seen him that night. He’d seen her. Both of them stripped down to their primal selves, just trying to survive and make sure their friend did too. No matter what the future held, she would never forget the anguish on his face, or his hands covered in his best friend’s blood. And she knew in that moment that she and Ghost would be okay too.
It was so good to talk, to joke, to feel normal. She’d taken it for granted for so long. She’d been such an idiot. She’d been an idiot with Jared too, but today wasn’t the day to think about that.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Brian said suddenly, pointing over at Ghost. “What’s that on your arm?”
Ghost’s dark brows drew together, and he straightened his left arm out, showing the fading purple bruise inside his elbow. “This?”
“Yeah, that. Oh Jesus. Tell me I don’t have a pint of you in me.”
“Probably more than a pint, brother. You know you always wanted me in you. You try to fight it, but we both know it’s true. I thought this was your big chance. Don’t you feel the insanity singing through your veins?”
“Oh, stop torturing him,” Macy said, giggling when Ghost’s other hand moved from her shoulder to cover her mouth.
“You’re lying,” Brian said.
“I’m not. You’re gonna have some of my superpowers. You’re gonna be twice the man you were before. Not that that’s saying a whole lot, but—”
Brian acted like he was about to crawl out of his hospital bed. “Candace, call the nurse. I probably don’t have much longer to live before I implode in the sunlight or—”
Ghost cracked up laughing. “I’m fuckin’ with you, dude, don’t hurt yourself. We all wanted to know what we could do to help. They told us to donate blood. Didn’t mean it was going to you, but you were probably about to use up a chunk of their supply. Never let it be said I don’t care for my fellow man.”
“See? We both donated.” Macy tugged up her sleeve and stretched out her own slender arm to show where she’d given too. “And that should show how much I love ya, because y’all know I hate needles.”
“She passed out,” Ghost said.
“I did not.”
“She turned the color of pea soup, dude, I thought some Exorcist-type shit was about to go down.”
“You need a nap,” Macy told him. “I think you’ve been awake for forty-eight hours.”
Ghost shook his head wearily and rubbed a hand down his face. “I think it’s been longer than that.”
“You guys go home,” Candace told them, a note of incredulity in her voice. “Please, you’ve done so much. Go. Rest. We’re good here.”
“Tell us what you need first,” Macy said. “What about Lyr?”
“Mom has him. They’re good. I’m going to go by and see him later, and then probably take him to Brian’s mom. I’ll be staying here.”
“You really ought to go home too,” Brian said, reaching over to link fingers with his wife. “You look exhausted, babe.”
Indeed, she did. There were shadows and lines on Candace’s face that hadn’t been there before, but as expected, she was shaking her head before he could even get all the words out. “No. No way. I’m fine. I’m perfect.”
Feeling useless and third-wheelish, Starla cleared her throat. “I can help out too, if you need anything from home, or…just whatever you need.” She could also add “donate blood” to her checklist of things to do. If she’d spent more time around here, she might have known there was a need for it.
“Hang around for a second,” Brian said to her. “I want to talk to you.”
And she’d figured that was coming, but what surprised her was Candace’s departure. She gave Brian a kiss and left the room with Ghost and Macy, leaving the two of them alone. A million questions swirled in Starla’s mind—Did he ever tell her? Does she know? Wouldn’t she hate me? Wouldn’t she refuse to leave us alone, even if he is in the hospital?—but she took a calming breath and tried to beat them all back. She’d lived in a state of chaos for so long, it was hard to know any other way to be.
“You probably need some rest too,” Starla observed after the trio was gone.
“So they tell me. I think I’ve been asleep long enough, though.” He fiddled with his IV tubing and sighed. “I can’t stand this shit.”
“Of course you can’t. You’re a bundle of raw energy. You always have been.”
“The nurses have already threatened to strap me down.”
Sighing, she walked over and took the seat closest to his bed. Memories of the last conversation they’d had ran through her brain on fast-forward, but she couldn’t get a grasp on any one thing she’d said to him. She’d been so emotional and the confession had taken such a toll on her she’d probably blocked most of it out, not to mention what had happened later that night. It felt like years ago. Could it really only have been days?
Finally, though, as excruciating silence filled the room, her most burning question had to come out. “Did you tell Candace?”
“Yeah.”
Now she allowed horror to bloom full in her chest. “But she…”
“You saved my life, Star. You might want to wave it off, but you did. And like I told you, she loves you. She trusts me.” He chuckled. “And, well, her exact words were, ‘How can I blame her?’”
She had to laugh at that. “You sure you didn’t come up with that on your own?”
“Believe me, I didn’t. That’s just how amazing she is.” He cleared his t
hroat. “I guess you still want to leave?”
Leaning forward and placing her elbows on her knees, she closed her eyes and let her head hang for a moment. No. Yes. Fuck. “I still feel like I have to. Especially now. The cat’s out of the bag, and I don’t think we’ll ever get that fucker back in.”
“I guess not. And I figured you’d say that. So… I ran my idea by Candace, and she thought it was a great one.”
Starla lifted her head. “Your idea?”
“I asked you if you’d consider a solution if I could come up with one. You said yes.”
That’s right. He had. She’d hardly thought it would be possible, but it was worth hearing. “Okay. Shoot.”
“You run the North shop for me.”
Starla’s spine shot ramrod straight, and she stared at him in slack-jawed awe. “What? You want to put that kind of responsibility on me? Brian—”
“You’ve been by my side since the start, so you know how I like things done. I need someone like that over there because I’m going to be close to home most of the time. And Ghost damn sure isn’t going anywhere, and I wouldn’t wish him as a supervisor on anyone. But I know you seem to need a change of scenery, so you’re my only hope to get this shit off the ground. Candace and I will always be around if you need us for anything.”
“But…um, Brian.” All her protests could be summed up in only three words: “You know me.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I do. I’ll let you have a higher commission and give you say over who we hire, since you’ll be working with them more than I will be. You’ll be my eyes and ears.”
“Stop talking about this like it makes any sense.”
“It’ll be a few weeks before we’re ready to open, though, so until then, you’ll be stuck with us, but I hope you can hang in there in the meantime. If you can’t, though, and want to do something else until then, I would understand.”
“Brian.” By now, she had pushed her hair back, holding it away from her flaming face. Freaking the fuck out inside. She opened her mouth to go on speaking, but he held up a hand.