Текст книги "Indisputable"

Автор книги: A. M. Wilson

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Trey grabs my hand and holds it between both of his palms.  “I think it’s extremely likely.  The call was incoming, which means Jacoby didn’t call Brent as a means of escape.  My gut says something happened back home, and Jacoby left in a hurry.”

Hope stitches its way into my heart with his words.  Please let everything be okay, I pray.  Not only for whatever made him leave in such a rush but also for us.  Maybe our secret hasn’t been discovered after all.

***

Trey watches me like a hawk.  He forces me to get up and go to school, even though I know Jacoby won’t be there.  He says it’s because he doesn’t want me to get into trouble, but I know what it is.  He’s trying to keep up with normalcy.  He’s trying to keep me from breaking, and he thinks if I’m at school, I can’t hurt myself.  He is right.

But I don’t want to hurt myself.  Last night was a moment of weakness.  Of desperation and pain.  It was the first time since the morning after Jacoby and I first slept together that I had something trigger me.  I knew I’d have slip ups.  I knew it wouldn’t be easy.  I’m just ashamed that Trey was here to witness it.

As I trudge up to the building, everything seems wrong.  The air is too cold, the clouds look like snow, and the students are too loud.  When I enter the building, I’m hit with a blast of dry, recycled air, and it smells funny.  The building looks old, as if I can see every crack in the paint, every chip in the floor.  Everything is the same, but yet, it’s also not.

Because Jacoby isn’t here.

He isn’t here, and it’s like my entire soul can feel it.

I walk past his classroom on my way to French, and there’s some old lady with black hair, wearing a matching red skirt and blazer, standing by the door.  She looks so wrong standing by that door.  She doesn’t belong.  Yet, she smiles kindly as I pass, and I force myself to do the same.

However, the smile drops from my face when I look back down the hall and see Mr. Stephenson waiting outside the French classroom.  My lungs freeze; I’m sure terror is written all over my face, because it’d be a strange coincidence that he’s looking for me the day after Jacoby disappears.

Please, no.

His eyes meet mine.

That’s all that happens before I’m summoned, and my feet carry me to the place where I’ll hear my fate.  Jacoby’s been fired.  He fled the state.  I’m getting kicked out of the post-secondary program.  I can picture it all as I walk into his office and sit in the hard, uncomfortable blue chair.  My hands tremble so I clutch my books tighter to my chest.

“I’m going to cut right to it, Miss Krause.  I had a visitor yesterday who shared with me some…news.  Do you know what I’m talking about?”  His cool gaze pins me to the seat, and I barely mange to shake my head no.

“There are allegations about you having a romantic relationship with Mr. Ryan.”

His sentence steals my breath, and I can’t take it anymore.  I’m going to break.  “It’s not true!  Who told you that?”  I wish he’d reach out and hold my hand, because I’m having difficulty being strong.  This can’t be happening.

“Do you know Wyatt Chasely?”

“It’s not t-true, Mr. Stephenson.  I swear.  Wyatt is, he’s messed up!” I cry.  Tears slip from my eyes and track down my cheeks as I stare into Mr. Stephenson’s open, concerned face.

“He said you left him to start a relationship with Mr. Ryan.  He said he came here to confront you at school back in September, and he caught the two of you.”

“No!” I scream, the sound harsh to my own ears.  “Wyatt c-came here with m-me when I m-missed all that school.  H-he sexually a-assaulted me here and Mr. Ryan s-s-saved me.  Oh, God.”

I break.  I break so completely that I’m pretty sure my heart is lying on the floor.  I cry until my eyes burn, and my throat hurts.  Mr. Stephenson wraps an arm around my shoulders, and then I sob into his shirt.  I break down and tell him my own version of the truth.  I tell him about how I was handling things before school started.  I tell him about my relationship with Wyatt, and how I tried to break it off.  I tell him about missing those days of school, Wyatt messing with my car, the assault, and Mr. Ryan saving me.

What I don’t tell him is that I fell in love with my teacher.  And that I’d give anything in this moment to have him back here with me.

Instead, I tell him we developed a bond, but I lie and say it isn’t romantic.  That it’s based solely on trust.  Somehow, Mr. Stephenson seems to believe me.  And then he says the words that free me from my personal hell.

“I’m glad you were honest with me, Tatum.  I suppose it was lucky Mr. Ryan had an out of town emergency, and I was able to talk to you first.  I have a feeling he wouldn’t have been so quick to betray your trust.  Things might have been a bit trickier then.  I know how much you’ve struggled over the past year, and I’m glad you finally found someone to confide in.”

I dry my tears on my sleeve and breathe deeper.  The worst seems to be over.

“He talked me into seeing a counselor.  I actually had my first appointment last Monday,” I tell him, breathing my first true breath in twenty four hours.  I’m overcome with relief.

“Did he now?  Well, fill me in.  We have some catching up to do, and I’d rather not send you to class until you’ve calmed down.”

***

“Trey!  Are you here?”   I call out into Jacoby’s empty living room while kicking off my shoes.  I need to tell him everything that’s happened.  He has to know that everything is going to be okay.

Rounding the couch, I head towards the kitchen for a bottle of water.  If Trey didn’t answer, he must not be here.  He’d have no reason to be upstairs.  When I reach the entrance to the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks.

Jacoby.

“Care to tell me why you’re calling out Trey’s name in my house?”  His tone is stern and low, but it isn’t mean.  He looks so tired.  Exhausted would be more appropriate.  Dark purple rings surround his eyes, and his hair looks like he’s run his hand through it a hundred times.  His clothing, a black T-shirt that clings to his biceps and dark blue faded jeans, is wrinkled as if he slept in them.  Even in his disheveled state, he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.  My eyes drink him in, and I can’t actually believe he’s here.

“You’re here.”  My voice is whisper soft and pained.  Tears prick my eyes.  He’s really here.  My mind spins with all the what-ifs I’ve been trying not to think about for the last day.  I reach out to steady myself on the wall as a wave of dizziness crashes over me.

“I had to leave town, but I’m back.  What’s going on?  Is it Wyatt?”

“You’re here!” I cry and rush him.  I slam into the warmth of his hard body and tightly wrap myself around him.  His scent envelops me, and I bury my face into his neck.  The tears flow freely down my cheeks, but I don’t care.  He’s really here.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?”  His hand strokes my hair comfortingly, and I cling to him.  I never want to let go.

“I-I thought you were g-gone!” I cry into his neck.

“Shh.  I’m here now.  I’m sorry I had to leave, but I’m here.”

The sound of the front door opening makes me pull my head away from his warmth.

“Tatum!  You here?”  Trey’s voice booms throughout the main level of the house.

“Seriously, what the fuck is this?”  Now Jacoby sounds pissed as he pushes me gently away from him.   I want to tell him everything, but just then, Trey rounds the corner.

“Motherfucker!  You’re back.  Jesus Christ, don’t fucking leave like that again.”  Trey walks over and pulls Jacoby into one of those back-slapping man hugs.  Jacoby’s confusion is written all over his face, and I’d laugh if I wasn’t so relieved.

“What is this?  You two are acting like I just came back from the dead.  I had to handle some shit back home.  You want to explain to me why you both come into my house looking for each other?”

“Cool your shit man, it’s not like that.  You left without telling anybody.  What do you think we’re doing?”  Trey seems up to doing all the talking, so I let him.  I don’t know if I can get my words out without breaking into sobs again.

“I sent you a text, asshole,” Jacoby replies.

“Dude, you told me you had to leave.  Didn’t say where, didn’t say when you’d be back.  Then you left your fuckin’ phone here while you took off to who fuckin’ knows.”

“I just told you, I went back home.”

“We know that now.  Didn’t you think we’d worry?  You left after that motherfucker threatened to expose the two of you.  Do you get what I’m saying to you?”  Trey’s anger is rising, but realization just dawned for Jacoby.

He turns to me with a grimace on his face.  “Sweetheart, I am so sorry.  I didn’t think.  I had to get home, so I left as soon as I could.  I didn’t realize I left my phone until I was already on the plane.  My mind was a mess.  Are you okay?”  He reaches for me, and I go willingly into his embrace.  I can’t blame him for having his own problems to deal with.  I’m too relieved to get upset with him.  I trust he had his reasons, and I know he’ll explain it to me later.  Right now, I just want to be back in his arms.

“I’m okay.  I was just worried.  What happened back home?”  Trey gives me a look, and I know what he’s thinking.  When am I going to tell Jacoby about last night?  And how is he going to react when he hears I fell asleep cradled in his best friend’s arms?

“Maybe we should sit in the living room so I can fill you in.  You want a beer, Trey?”  Jacoby lets me go to lean in the fridge and fishes me out a bottle of water.

“Yeah, man.  You sure you don’t want me to go?  I don’t need to intrude on you two.”

I want to scream at him to stop making eyes at me.  We can talk about me until my voice box freezes up, but right now, I want to talk about Jacoby.

“Nah, I owe you an explanation, too.  It’ll be easier to just say it once.”

We all walk to the sofa.  Trey sits on one end and Jacoby on the other.  I climb onto Jacoby’s lap, his arms automatically cage me in, and he buries his face in my hair.  God, I missed him.  I’m so glad this nightmare is over.

“So what happened?” I ask.  I want to talk, and then I want him to take me to bed.  Even if all we do is sleep.

Jacoby runs his fingers through my hair.  “Right after we had our run in with Wyatt, I got a phone call from Brent.  He’s Harper’s brother,” he says to me before continuing.  “Their mom, Carol, has been sick.  He called me a month ago to tell me she wasn’t expected to make it until Christmas.”  Jacoby stops and clears his throat.  We’ve only touched on the topic of Harper’s family, but I can tell whatever happened is hard for him.

“He called to tell me she was out of time.  She was being given last rites.  I-I just had to go.  We had so much left unsaid between us; she blamed me for what happened to Harper, and I was so angry.  Angry enough to ignore her all this time.  But when it came down to it, I couldn’t let her go without my forgiveness.  I needed to see her one last time.  So I left.  I spoke to Mr. Stephenson, came home to call a taxi, and I was gone.  I must have dropped my phone when I changed from my work clothes.  I couldn’t think straight.  All I could think about was getting there in time.”

My hands feather along his jaw; I’m hoping to soothe him.  My heart hurts for this man who gives so selflessly and hurts so deeply.  He’s carried around the guilt from Harper’s crash for years, and now he’s losing another member of that family.  Even if Carol was angry with him, that loss must cut deep.

“I’m here for you,” I tell him, because what else is there?  ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t enough, and I don’t want to speak words that are spoken so automatically.  At least when I tell him I’m here, I can show him with my actions, too.

“Thank you.”  He kisses my jaw.  “I’m sorry I worried you.  At the time I didn’t think, but now I can see how stupid I was to leave like that.  I don’t know if there could have been worse circumstances.”

“It’s okay,” I reply, resting my cheek on his chest.  “Just don’t do it again.”

I can feel his smile against the top of my head.  “I won’t.”

I’m overcome with a wave of exhaustion, a tiredness all the way to my bones.  These past two days have knocked me out.  Lying here on Jacoby’s warm chest, with his strong fingers sifting through my hair, I can finally relax.  The pounding of his heart is a steady rhythm of comfort beneath my ear.  He’s home.  He’s safe.  We’re together.  I’m awash with contentment, and I let my eyelids drift closed.

“What do you mean there was an incident?”

“Keep your voice down.  She’s asleep.”

“Tell me what happened, then.”

“I don’t think you get the state she was in when you left.  She thought you abandoned her.  Got word that fucker ratted you out and took off without her.  She was hurting, man.”

“So what does that mean?  What are you trying to tell me?”

The voices drift up around me, but I can’t make sense of who’s talking.  The words paint pictures within my mind, and I can’t tell if I’m dreaming or remembering.

There’s a sigh.  “I’m telling you she had a moment.  She got a knife, and I wasn’t quick enough.  Just one cut, but that shit was scary as fuck.”

“Which one?”

“Which what?”

“Which wrist?” 

“Left.”

The pillow I’m lying on is hard, and I shift slightly to get more comfortable.  Trey and Jacoby keep talking around me, but I’m too tired to open my eyes.  I just want to sleep.

“Fuck.”  That was Jacoby, his voice a low hiss. 

“I’m sorry, man.  Is she getting any help?”

There’s a silence, and I drift further away into a dreamless sleep.

The sensation of movement pulls me from my slumber.  I’m jostled slightly, but Jacoby’s strong arms and chest cradle me as he carries me through the house.

“What’s going on?” I ask, groggily.

“Shh.  I’m just carrying you to bed.”

“Okay,” I mumble, snuggling deeper into his warmth.

Jacoby pulls back the covers and gently places me in bed.  I keep my eyes closed, but I can hear him moving about the room.  A door opening, a rustle of fabric, light footsteps on the carpet.  Then he’s back, and he’s slowly working off my jeans and shirt.  I’d help, but I’m so sleepy.  I let him take care of me, even though I should be taking care of him.  He shimmies a pair of sweats up my legs and pulls one of his shirts over my head until it swallows my torso.  It’s soft and warm, and smells like him.

The bed shifts as he crawls in, and then he’s moving me into his arms again.  I scoot closer until my head rests on his bare pectoral and his arm is wrapped around my body; his fingers running along my shoulder.  Turning my face, I press a soft kiss to his chest.

“Sorry I woke you.  I thought this would be more comfortable than the couch,” he says quietly.

“I’m comfortable anywhere as long as it’s with you.”

We lapse into silence, the only sound is our slow, deep breaths.

“Did Trey leave?” I ask, finding it difficult to fall back asleep now that I’m content in his arms again.

“Yeah.  He had to get home.  He only came over to make sure you were okay.”

“That was nice of him.”

“Mmhm.  Do you want to talk, or do you want to go back to sleep?” Jacoby asks.  But the way he’s asking makes me feel like he has something to say.

“I’m awake now.  We can talk if you want.”

“I thought you should know, Trey told me what happened last night.  I didn’t want you to worry about having to tell me.  And I’m not upset with you, Sweetheart.  I completely understand.  I’m just so sorry I put you through that.  It was my actions that led to yours.”

Now, I’m wide awake.  I lift up onto my elbow so I can peer down into Jacoby’s handsome face.  My hair creates a dark curtain around us that only adds to the privacy of the moment.  I trace the crease of confusion in his brow with my index finger.

“Don’t you dare say that.  Don’t take on unnecessary guilt because of my actions.  I’m the one who couldn’t keep calm.  I freaked out, and what I did is on me.  Not you.”

“Tatum,” he groans.  One of his large hands cups my cheek.  “My beautiful girl.  If I hadn’t left the way I did, you wouldn’t have worried.  It is my fault.”

I silence him with a kiss on his lips.  “No.  I let what happened with Wyatt get to me.  I thought the worst, and it brought so many emotions crashing down that I couldn’t deal.  But it isn’t your fault.  Please, don’t fight me on this, Jacoby.  It’s not your fault.”

His deep brown eyes flick back and forth between my hazel ones, and I hold his stare.  I’m begging him with my eyes to believe me and to let it go.  We can’t change what happened, but that doesn’t mean we have to dwell on it.

Isn’t that what our relationship has been all about?  Both of us had issues in our past we’ve been fighting to deal with.  Jacoby ran away from his, while I tried to cut mine away.  Literally.  But something happened when we came together.  Somehow, the two of us, with our messed up pasts, have helped the other heal.  We found solace in one another that we were missing when we were alone.

“Speaking of Wyatt, did anything come about while I was gone?” Jacoby asks, pulling me from my thoughts.  I don’t want to talk about Wyatt, but I get it over with so we can move on and leave it behind us.

We lie in the bed we’ve been sharing night after night, and I fill him in on everything that happened while he was gone.  I retell what happened last night, even though Trey already filled him in.  I want him to hear it from me.  Then I describe what happened this afternoon.  His face contorts with anger even though he tries to hide it, and I can tell he’s upset with himself for leaving me the way he did.  I climb onto his strong body and clasp my limbs tightly around him.  His hands slide down my ribcage to my waist, finally coming to rest on my ass.

“Let your anger go.  He’ll get what’s coming to him.  I agreed to file a police report.”

“You did?” Jacoby asks, his eyes widening in shock.

“I did.  We’ll take care of it tomorrow morning.”

“Thank fuck,” he replies.  “That fucker will get what’s coming to him.”

“He will.  And we won’t ever have to worry about him again.  Mr. Stephenson believed my story.  That you and I developed a friendly relationship after what happened.  As long as we’re careful these next few weeks, we’ll be just fine.”

“As long as you’re by my side, I’ll be more than fine.”

Our foreheads touch, and our eyes are closed.  We’re shrouded by darkness in the room, but we light up each other from within.  I am the flame, and he is the torch.  He carries me through the darkness, and when he’s in the dark, I light his path.

“Hey, Jacoby?”  I call through the darkness, even though he’s right here, his hard body is beneath mine.  His hands tighten on the spot where my hips meet my thighs, and he replies, “Yeah?”

I exhale slowly, trying to calm my jittery nerves.  This shouldn’t make me so nervous, but it does.  I’ve never uttered these words to another soul in my life, and the thought of rejection turns my blood cold.  But this is Jacoby.  I don’t need to be afraid.  So instead, I smile and place a lingering, soft kiss on his lips.

“I love you.”

Jacoby’s breath comes out as a rush, and his arms slide around my back, crushing me to his chest.  His mouth fits into the space next to my ear, and he whispers there, “You love me?”

“I do,” I reply.

“Say it again,” he commands, and his breathing turns ragged.

“I love you, Jacoby.  I think I’ve loved you all along, but I was too determined not to see it.  You’re the first person I’ve ever loved.  It didn’t come to me easily.  I had to fight for it, but now that I have it, it’s mine.”  I shriek as I’m suddenly flipped onto my back as Jacoby rolls us over.  He presses his lips to mine, but he doesn’t kiss me.  He just holds them there, like two puzzle pieces fitted together.

“God, Sweetheart.  I love you, too.  So damn much.”

My heart sighs.  “Show me.  Make love to me, Jacoby.”

And he does.

We don’t get much sleep.  We spend the night worshipping each other’s bodies with our hands and our lips.  We tangle ourselves beneath the soft, gray sheets until the shadows fade back into their recesses, and the sun’s rays peek through the window.  Then we get up for school and begin our routine, which will continue for the next few weeks, until we are free to be together without the repercussions.

Finding our love wasn’t simple.  It pushed our morals and the rules of society.  It was forbidden and different, but it was ours.  We fought against our attraction, going as far as to push one another away when things got tough.  But we came to a point where it wasn’t possible to fight any longer.  The battle was already won in our favor; it was won before we even stepped onto the field.  Love like ours can’t be ignored.  It strengthens and grows with every obstacle thrown in its path.  It might have taken months to come to terms with our feelings.  But in the end, there’s no denying it.

Our love is indisputable.