Текст книги "Torn"
Автор книги: Kim Karr
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Chapter 18
What I’ve Done
Ben’s Journal
Last night’s turn of events was completely unexpected. Caleb picked me up and we went to Reality Bites to grab some food and talk. I ended up doing the drinking for both of us. He was on call and refused to even drink one beer. Good thing, since he got a message that an alarm was down. When he excused himself to make a call, I wondered why he couldn’t do it in front of me. I was outright pissed when he came back and said he had to leave. I told him I’d ride along with him because I had nothing else to do. Now I know why he was so hesitant for me to come and why he said I had to stay in the car.
When he pulled through the gates of the Hills, it all made sense. I thought he had gotten fired so I had to ask if we were going where I thought we were going. He didn’t answer me as he approached a cul-de-sac and parked his car in front of what I assumed to be the fucktard’s house. I had no fucking idea that he was actually part of the irresponsibly rich and famous. It had an absurdly long upward sloping driveway, a large decorative front door that looked like he was waiting for royalty to visit, and what really got me was the modest landscaping. Doesn’t he know she loves flowers?
I sat in the car for at least five minutes and couldn’t take it anymore. I had to at least go look around. I walked up a million steps to get to the fucktard’s door. When I spotted the wind chimes I knew for sure this was where she’d been staying. I heard loud music and people talking and could tell there was a party going on. Since the door was open, I thought I might be able to steal her away and talk to her without his eyes on me the whole time.
I spotted her right away. She looked fucking amazing. She was dressed up and I really wanted those long legs wrapped around me. When she saw me, the scowl on her face was anything but welcoming. I asked her about the pearl necklace she was wearing. She ignored my question so I knew rich boy must have given it to her. I’m surprised she’s with someone who tries to buy her love. When I asked her the one thing that’s been bugging the shit out of me, my fucking worst nightmare happened.
My dirty little secret was standing next to me and talking to my Dahl. Dahl ran off and I hadn’t even noticed because my mind was engrossed in the vivid memories of all the different ways I had fucked that girl that one night. I only refocused when S’belle looked at me. I could have sworn she was looking at me like she got me, like she saw through my bullshit. But then she asked what the fuck I was doing there, and I knew I was just imagining it. Honestly, I’m really fucking tired of that question. Didn’t matter anyway because she didn’t stick around long enough for me to answer. She fled like fire out the front door.
I followed Dahl and when I opened the door she had slammed, I was surprised to see her hope chest on the other side of the room. I looked at the unmade bed and when I saw the black thong on the floor, I nearly lost it. I was in their bedroom. Fuck me!
When she told me how she knew S’belle I nearly shit my pants. Of course she’s the prick’s sister. It wasn’t until I knew she didn’t know the entire story that I could finally breathe. Just as I thought I was finally getting somewhere with Dahl, the prick came in looking like he wanted to kill me. All I could do was laugh, wishing I had at least been trying to kiss her when he walked in. I felt an overwhelming urge to remind him who had her first, and, shit, he threw a mean right hook. But I just kept on reminding him that she was mine first. I thought I could take him if I pushed a little hard. But when he pinned me up against the wall, I couldn’t believe he got me again. Fuck, he’s fast, but I knew I was faster. But before I could show him what I really had, Caleb pulled him off of me.
When Caleb threw me into his car, he really laid into me. I didn’t say a word. I just really didn’t give a shit anymore. We didn’t talk the rest of the way home and when we exited at Laguna I told him to drop me at Ana’s Attic. He pointed to the elbow I was rubbing and said he might need to pop that in place and that I needed to get a sling.
After the pharmacy stop, I headed toward the bar and Caleb followed. Pretty boy kicked my ass and I needed a drink. I don’t remember much except that I drank until my mind was numb and Caleb brought me home.
I woke up to my phone ringing but it stopped before I could get to it. I checked my messages and instantly sobered up. My nephew was in trouble and all I knew was that I had to get to him. Serena had dropped the car off at my house so I left as soon as I could to find him.
I regret having left Laguna for many reasons but when I saw Trent lying there among the garbage and beer bottles in the alley behind the concession stand in Newport Beach, I knew he was my biggest regret. Dahl and everything else aside, my nephew needed me. He was never close with his father and over the years I had assumed that role, then when he probably needed me the most, I wasn’t there. What had happened in the years I was gone to the boy who was such a great athlete, student, and all-around happy child? He’s now so strung out he barely knew who I was. I was terrified as I sat him up and he muttered things to me a sixteen-year-old shouldn’t have to worry about.
I knew looking at him then, that if he could be the only good thing I’d done in my life against all the bad—I’d take it. My mind worked fast and I knew I was the one who could help him get clean. I didn’t want to call Serena or Mom. All I had to do was get him to my house. I pulled him to a sitting position, but with only one fucking arm I couldn’t get him to his feet. And then as if God had heard my confession of sins and was forgiving me, there she was. She was there to help me.
I was surprised Dahl didn’t know about Trent, but then again the way my sister was acting, I shouldn’t have been. She helped me get him home and settled in what used to be our room. I had wanted to get her home and alone, but not under those circumstances.
We were both soaking wet and although I really wanted to strip off her wet clothes, I knew better than to attempt that under the circumstances, and, honestly, I wasn’t in the mood. So instead, I gave her a towel and some dry clothes. Once she changed she helped me try to secure a location for Trent and then we sat down and talked. My plan to skip talking backfired. It felt wrong. I just needed to let her know I wanted her back.
It was a relief to get it out, but her reaction was far from what I had expected. I thought she would run and wrap her arms around me, maybe even jump me. After all, I changed my whole life for her. But instead, when I put it out there, she shot me down. She rebuffed my every move. Then after I laid it out and told her that I wanted her, I could see in her eyes she didn’t feel the same way.
I tried to keep my cool while she was still here. Once she left I checked on Trent. Then I went into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I knew I had to keep it together. I had to concentrate on helping Trent. I was fucking exhausted so I lied down on the couch to try to take a quick nap. I knew I had a long night ahead of me and needed to catch some z’s, but I couldn’t sleep because memories of our life together seemed to be everywhere in this fucking house. I replayed her asking me to leave that pretty boy of hers alone a million times. I wanted to say fuck no, riling him up was too much fun, but I didn’t want to piss her off. But as soon as she called him her fiancé, I was the one who was pissed off. I felt like she had just punched me in the gut. I was her fiancé. Why I even asked if she knew him while we were together, I have no fucking idea because I already knew the answer—he had made that clear. I know she would have never cheated, but it still bugs the shit out of me. I’m really starting to doubt that I’m going to be able to get her back. Fuck me.
Chapter 19
Pieces
I’m blaring “I Found You” by the Wanted and singing along to one of my favorite songs when my calmness fades and annoyance surfaces. Ellie’s car is parked in our driveway directly in front of the garage. What’s she doing here this late? Doesn’t her workday end at five like most people’s?
Jerking the wheel, I turn and park right in front of the steps. I rush out into the rain, and then hurry up to the landing. Turning the knob, I discover it’s unlocked, and I open the door slowly. Why is she here alone with River? What am I going to walk into?
I expect to see them sitting at the kitchen table, so when I see River on the couch and her on the floor beside him, I’m more than a little surprised. I take in the whole scene. The gifts have been moved to the counter. He’s leaning over the glass coffee table looking at a stack of papers. Her red shirt is unbuttoned so far that her matching bra isn’t the only thing showing. Her legs are bent to the side and her tight black pencil skirt is riding up pretty high. She’s leaning against the back of the sofa with her arm resting on it, very close to River’s thigh. Her other hand is holding a pen over the stack of papers that River is looking at. She’s removed her leopard-print, high– heel pumps, showing off her red-painted toenails. Her bare feet lay pressed against our wooden floor and she looks a bit too comfortable to be conducting a business meeting.
“Hi.” It’s all I say but it’s enough to make River’s head snap up, his eyes meeting mine.
“Hi,” he says back and his face is unreadable, but I swear I see guilt in his eyes.
The next series of events seems to play out in slow motion. Ellie swings her head around and her mane of silky black hair follows. She looks up and gives me a fake smile and a slight wave. She flutters her unnaturally long eyelashes and glares at me like I’m intruding. I can’t help but return the look. Then I avert my stare and look around. There’s a pizza box and a few beer bottles on the coffee table and I have to wonder how long she’s been here and how much they’ve had to drink. I feel my heart tear a little at the picture before me, but it rips my heart out when I see Stella, his guitar, propped against the couch on the other side of Ellie.
Water is dripping down from my wet hair and onto my face. I push the hair out of my eyes as she says, “Oh sorry, did I block you from getting in the garage? I never thought of it.”
I can’t help but sneer at her and say, “Of course you didn’t.” Afterward, I abruptly turn toward the bedroom and throw over my shoulder, “Sorry if I interrupted.” My head is spinning as I move to escape the large room that suddenly seems claustrophobic. I slam the bedroom door, kick off my shoes, and throw myself onto the bed. I know I wanted to come home and talk calmly to River, but now I’m just annoyed.
Staring out the window, I try to see the Hollywood sign, but the rain is falling so hard that I can barely make the letters out. I’m not a jealous person, or least I never have been, but there’s just something about that woman. I begin to wonder if I haven’t picked up on what’s clearly in front of my eyes. Have we been over and I just didn’t realize it? Is the bond I thought we shared not as strong as I envisioned?
Flashes of our fairy-tale romance swim before my eyes—our fun drive from Vegas to LA, our games, his crazy made-up rules, the fountain and our wishes, waking up with him every morning—him always asking if I can “wait a bit” for my coffee because he’s got better things in mind, sleeping on whichever side of the bed we happen to be on because being together is all that matters.
“What the hell, Dahlia!”
Without turning around I ask him, “Is there something going on between the two of you? Is that what you’re not telling me?”
“No!” he snaps and then I feel the bed dip as he moves across it. He hovers over me and his hand slides along the curves of my waist before resting on my hip. I shudder at his touch. With his lips near my ear he more calmly says, “Why would you even think that?”
I turn around to face him. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together. Then I come home and she’s here again.”
He shakes his head, “She’s here working.”
“I’m afraid she’s here just waiting to pick up our pieces.”
“There are no pieces. We’ll never be in pieces.”
I whisper, “But I see the way she looks at you.”
His eyes meet mine and he whispers back, “I don’t care how she looks at me. You’re the only one I see.”
I know I shouldn’t say this, but I have to, I have to know. “It didn’t look like that tonight. What was she doing here? Did you play for her?” I can’t bear the thought of him playing his guitar for her. When he plays for me, he bares his soul, and it feels like the most intimate moment two people can share without touching one another.
“Dahlia, I didn’t play for her.” But as he says this, his body stiffens and he throws himself back on the bed.
My heart lodges in my throat. “What’s wrong? I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”
He sighs then announces, “I quit,” before throwing his arm over his forehead.
“What? Just like that!” I scream, bolting upright and looking at him in complete shock. I know we are having some issues but I never thought he’d just end us like that. “Without even trying to work this out, you’re just going to throw us away?”
He sits up and forcefully pulls me to him. “Fuck, Dahlia. No. Not us. I could never quit us, not ever. You’re a part of who I am. I was talking about the tour. I’m done with it. I quit the band.” He lets go of his hold on me and runs his hands through his hair.
I’m not entirely surprised, but I am a bit thrown. “Are you sure about this, River? You’re weeks away from the tour. What did Xander and the other guys say?”
He throws himself back on the bed. “Yes, I’m sure. I haven’t told them yet. I wanted to see what would happen to the guys first. Make sure my quitting doesn’t have a financial impact on them. That’s why Ellie was here, she was pointing out the penalties for breach of contract.”
I want to say I bet she was, but I know this is not the time for jealously. Right now he needs me. I lean down next to him and stroke his cheek with my thumb. “River, why are you doing this now?”
He squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds. “I just can’t do it. I never wanted it to begin with and now with everything else going on, my heart just isn’t in it.”
“River, you cannot quit because of us.”
“That’s just it, Dahlia. It’s not because of you or us; it’s because of me. You know I never wanted this. It won’t be good for me and it won’t be good for the band if I go through with it.”
He pulls me closer and our mouths collide. His tongue lightly probes mine, and I realize I have missed his lips. I have missed him. He pulls me on top of him and his hands slide down to my backside, pushing me into him. I get caught up in the moment, and then suddenly remember we still need to talk about yesterday.
I murmur against his lips. “River, we need to talk.”
He breathes back, “I need you right now.”
“I need you, too, but I meant what I said yesterday—we can’t keep trying to solve our issues with sex.”
Pulling back, he looks at me. I move to sit beside him and he sits up, too. Sighing, he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “I know we do, beautiful.”
All I want to do is grab handfuls of his messy hair and pull him back to me. When I look into his eyes, I see the same look I saw when I walked in the door: guilt.
“River, we have so much we need to talk about.”
He nods his head and looks resigned to the discussion. I notice his hands start to twitch when he says, “Dahlia, there are just some things that are harder to talk about than others.”
“I know. But we need to have these difficult discussions.”
“You have to know, I just never wanted to have to say anything that might hurt you . . .”
When the house phone rings, I jump. I reach to answer it, but he stops me. “Let it ring.”
“It might be about Trent,” I tell him and grab the receiver. “Hello,” I answer.
“Let me talk to River,” Xander demands.
I cover the receiver and mouth, “It’s Xander, and he wants to talk to you.”
He exhales a heavy breath and takes the receiver. “What?” He’s quiet for a few seconds and then frowns. “I don’t want to talk about it now.” Then he turns the phone off and tosses it to the floor. “What’s going on with Trent?”
“He called me crying this morning. He sounded scared and alone. He said he needed me to come get him in Newport. I tried to wake you up to tell you.”
He studies me. “You lost me. What was he doing in Newport and why did you have to go get him?”
“River, he’s an addict.”
“How do you know that?”
I know he’s not going to like this. “When I got to Newport, Ben was already there. He needed help to take Trent back to the house.”
His mouth sets in a firm line and his eyes narrow. “What house, Dahlia?”
“My house in Laguna.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he says as he stands up. “You spent the day with him and you’re worried about what Ellie was doing here?”
“It’s not the same and you know it.”
He heads for the door and just before he leaves the room he says, “You got that right!”
I follow him out into the living room. “River, we need to talk about this reasonably.”
River’s eyes snap to me. “Whose clothes are you wearing?”
There’s a hard knock and the front door swings open. Xander stands there scowling.
River ignores him. Pain contorts his features. “I asked whose clothes you’re wearing?”
“It was raining and I was wet so I had to change.”
Xander isn’t going to be ignored. He walks right over to River and says, “I want to talk to you now!”
“Fuck off, Xander.” River’s voice is low and filled with fury. I don’t think he’s even trying to control himself as his hands clench into fists.
I flinch when Xander grabs River by the shirt and gets right in his face. “Listen to me. I said I want to talk to you and it isn’t a choice,” he seethes.
River shoves him away and looks back at me. “You’re wearing his clothes! Did you let him fuck you?”
“Hey bro, calm down,” Xander says.
I gasp in shock that he would say something like that. My voice breaks but I manage, “River, no, of course not. You know there’s nothing going on between Ben and me. Let’s just sit down and talk about this.” I tell him this suppressing my own temper—trying to remain calm and pretending Xander isn’t really here listening to all of this.
His voice sounds rough, broken even. He shakes his head just once. “I don’t want to fucking deal with all this shit anymore!” Suddenly, his expression grows dark, almost dangerous. Then before I know what’s happening, he kicks the glass table from underneath, the papers that were sitting on it scatter in the air and the tabletop itself flips over and shatters. The sound is piercing. Without looking at me he storms out the kitchen door and stomps down the stairs. I can hear his engine rev and then his tires squeal.
From the front door I watch as he takes off. I call after him, but he can’t hear me. I just stand there frozen. I shiver and I know it’s not because of the chill in the air or lingering rain.
In the next moment Xander is standing behind me.
“Muse! Did you hear me?” he says in an incredulous tone.
I turn around and his eyes snap to mine. “What the fuck is going on?” he demands.
All I can do is shake my head. There is so much going on, I’m not even sure what he wants to know.
“He’s smashing shit and running out. He’s not acting like himself. Why?”
I swallow. “He’s mad.”
He takes a step forward, curling his lip into a sneer. “Ellie just called and told me he quit. How is it I didn’t even fucking know he quit? Is it because of you?”
I lean back against the open door and try to open my mouth to speak but the words won’t come out.
His jaw clenches and his fury seems to overcome him. He slams his fist against the wall. “You have nothing to say. He doesn’t answer his phone. He won’t talk to me. And you two are going at it . . . again. You’re the reason he quit. Aren’t you?”
“No. No, I’m not the reason. He just doesn’t . . .”
He cuts me off. “Fuck it! I’m done.”
With a disgusted look he brushes by me and walks out.
“Xander, let me explain,” I call out but he just ignores me.
I watch him leave as well, then turn and close the door.
A memory suddenly flashes before my eyes—the first time I saw River’s gorgeous silhouette across the bar, his intense gaze, our instant connection. Is it gone?
Walking into the living room I pick up his guitar and strum my fingers along the strings. When I look at the glass table now broken into a thousand tiny pieces, I think, You were wrong, River, we are in pieces.
