Текст книги "Torn"

Автор книги: Kim Karr

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter 12

Catch My Breath

The next morning we’re back outside in the yard and I love how River’s green eyes sparkle in the sunlight as I watch him from the lounge chair. I have my coffee in one hand and my Kindle in the other.

He turns to me and shoots me his full-blown smile. His dimples always make my heart flutter. Even with a black eye, he still takes my breath away.

“You’re really not going to help me, are you?”

I shake my head from side to side. “Nope. You have to learn your lesson.”

“What lesson would that be?” He walks over to me with the broom still in his hand.

Setting my Kindle down, I hold my hand over my eyes to block out the sun and say, “Why, the ‘you break it, you clean it up’ lesson, of course.”

He lets the broom fall to the patio and pushes my knees up toward me as he straddles the lounge chair.

“Hey, watch my coffee!”

Taking my coffee from my hand, he sets it on the side table. His mouth is on mine before I can say another word. Then pulling away, he runs his hands up the inside of my thighs and says, “I have a few lessons I wouldn’t mind teaching you. And I bet mine are much more fun.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him back to me. He presses his mouth to mine and with the taste of his lips, the feel of his breath, everything seems perfect. Suddenly he sits up, his hand comes to my cheek, where he cups my face for a long moment, and then just stands up.

“Where are you going?” I protest.

With a sexy grin he says, “I have to finish cleaning up.”

I pout my lips. I wasn’t done kissing him.

He laughs. “I’m getting too turned on sitting here like this, but if you want to help me, we could finish a hell of a lot faster and start on one of those lessons.”

I giggle. “Nah, I’m good.”

He slips his Rolling Stones T-shirt off and tosses it at me. “It’s hot out here.” He grabs the broom and walks back over to the shattered green glass.

My eyes scan his perfect back—the way his muscles flex and move with every sweep of the broom, the way his skin glistens in the sunlight. “I know exactly what you’re up to and it’s not going to work.”

He smiles darkly. “Oh you have no idea what I’m up to. Trust me.” He winks before turning back around. Bending over, he attempts to push the glass into the dustpan with the broom. He manages to get about a quarter in each time and the more I watch the more I feel bad. He really could use some assistance. I finally stand up and walk over to help him.

When I’m standing next to him, I place my hands on my hips and let out a deep exaggerated sigh. “Hand me the broom and I’ll sweep the glass into the dustpan.”

His eyes peer up at me as a smirk crosses his face. “You sure?”

I nod my head and his smirk grows wider.

But instead of handing me the broom he drops it to the ground and lunges forward to hoist me over his shoulder.

“Put me down! What are you doing?”

“Lesson number one, beautiful girl—never feel sorry for the person who looks incapable of cleaning up because more than likely it’s just a big act.” And with that, he tosses me into the pool.

Surfacing, I sputter water out of my mouth and yell, “You suck.”

“No, I’m just good,” he says smugly.

When I reach the side and look into his seemingly content eyes I have to agree, “Yeah, you are good.”

He strides toward me, reaching his hand to help me out. “You mean you’re finally admitting it?”

“I guess I am.”

* * *

After stripping off my wet clothes, I threw his T-shirt on and left him to finish cleaning up. With wet hair, I’m sitting at the breakfast bar in nothing but his shirt, attempting to eat a bowlful of cereal. His mood swings since Ben’s reappearance are getting to me. One minute he’s happy and normal, like this morning. The next minute he’s quiet and distant like dinner last night—or he’s angrier than I’ve ever seen him like our argument last night over Ben’s note. Even though we’ve discussed Ben and I’ve made my feelings clear, I feel like there’s something left unsaid between us, something still lingering between us. But I don’t know how to figure out what it is.

Arms tighten around me and River’s chest presses against my back. “I’m sorry.”

I almost feel like he’s apologizing for more than throwing me in the pool, but since I’m not sure where a deeper conversation would lead, I just want to keep the mood light and our tempers even– keeled.

I swivel around and run my fingertips up and down his bare chest. Hovering my lips over his ear I whisper, “Never apologize for winning, because paybacks are a bitch.”

Kissing me on the lips, he shrugs as he walks into the kitchen. “Paybacks sound like fun to me.”

I follow him and pour my cereal down the drain. I haven’t had much of an appetite the last few days and the bowl of Wheat Chex did nothing to increase it.

He takes the box of Cheerios out and sets it on the counter. “Not hungry again?”

I sigh a little. “No, not really.”

Turning around, I lean against the sink and catch him shooting me a concerned look. He opens the cabinet to get out a bowl. I can’t keep all of this bottled up so I take a deep breath and grab on to the edge of the counter as I let it out. “Can I ask you something?”

Leaving the bowl on the counter, he twists to look at me. The intensity in his eyes makes me want to escape this conversation. “You know you can.”

“Why did you fire Caleb?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Do you want to know what I told myself was the reason then or the real reason?”

“Both.”

He says, “We didn’t need him anymore since . . . ,” he stops as if unable to say why.

I finish the sentence for him. “They caught the asshole who attacked me.”

He lets out a long sigh. “Yeah, that’s what I told myself when I fired him.”

“And that’s not the real reason?”

“I just couldn’t stand that he was, can’t stand that he is, his friend.”

Ben and Caleb have been friends for many years. Somehow I always knew that was the reason River acted like he did toward Caleb. The only thing I can think to do is just tell him what he already knows. “River, even though I don’t want to ever talk to Ben again, we can’t avoid everybody he knows. That’s not fair to our friends or family.”

River nods his head. Striding over to me, he lifts my chin and cradles it. “Dahlia, I did hire Caleb back, but there is something else . . .”

The sound of the twisting of the lock abruptly stops our conversation. We both snap our heads toward the front door when it swings open.

Xander enters the foyer with his key in hand and signals hello with a single nod. Nix struts in right behind him and heads over to the sofa. He gives us an obligatory wave, and then does a double take. “What the fuck?” he says, pointing to River’s eye.

River shrugs his shoulders and responds, “Not now, man.”

Stepping in after Nix, a woman I’ve never seen before comes through the door. She has long dark hair and olive skin. About average height, she has the shiniest hair, and the most flawless complexion. She would give Aerie a run for her money. She’s truly stunning.

She smiles at us and Garrett comes in right on her heels, practically walking into her. His blond hair is tidier than I’m used to seeing and he apologizes to the woman before looking over to us. “Hey River, Dahlia. What’s up?” He, too, does a double take and also points to River’s eye. “Ouch, hope you did some damage to the opposite end of the fist that nailed you!”

River stiffens, but just grins at him and for the first time I wonder what the extent of Ben’s injuries were.

Garrett nods, grins back, and heads into the living room to turn the stereo on. River promptly redirects his attention to his brother who ushers the exotic beauty our way.

“Xander, just because you have a key doesn’t mean you don’t have to knock.”

“Shut up, River. I’ve been calling you since seven this morning. If you’d answer your goddamn phone I wouldn’t have had to bring everyone here.”

Nix makes himself at home and flops his feet up on the table. “Got any coffee?”

Ignoring Nix, Xander says, “Ellie Bryce, meet my brother, River, in the flesh. At least now you can see he actually does exist.”

She extends her finely manicured hand over the bar and River moves beside me to shake it. When she speaks, her voice is confident and strong, “Sorry for the intrusion, but I do need your input and Xander insisted we come over.”

River responds as he releases her hand, “Nice to meet you. I’m sorry I haven’t made any of your meetings, but now actually isn’t the best time.”

Xander shoots River a look. “No time seems to be the best time for you, so let’s say we do it now.”

River tenses. I wrap my arm around his waist and look up at him. “Hey, I’ve got stuff I can do, we can finish talking later.”

Ellie reaches over to me and her silver bangles jingle as we shake hands. “You must be Dahlia. It’s a pleasure.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” Then I become aware as I look at her that I have no underwear on under River’s T-shirt. River is also only half dressed, which is evident when her eyes seem to linger a little too long on him.

He leans over and whispers in my ear, “You sure?”

I nod and tuck my hand in the waistband of his jeans.

River looks at Ellie and says, “Since Xander is insisting, what’s so urgent?”

“Everything has to be marked urgent with you, otherwise we can’t get your attention,” Xander retorts.

“We need to firm up some details for each tour stop and make arrangements for the venues,” Ellie responds cheerfully, ignoring Xander’s comment.

Xander takes a step toward the bar and pulls a stool out for Ellie. His eyes flash toward us and hastily away when he notices my clothing, or lack thereof. Smirking, he mumbles, “Guess we caught you at a bad time.”

Unresponsive, River moves to stand in front of me as Garrett walks into the kitchen behind us. River twists his head and shoots him a look.

Garrett averts his eyes immediately. “Oh, sorry man. I didn’t realize . . .” Cutting himself off he points to the pot on the counter and says, “Nix wants coffee, but I can make it later. Right now I’ll make like a busboy and get the fork out of here.” With that he promptly turns and leaves the kitchen and I start laughing at him.

Looking back toward Xander, River tries to control his laughter as he says, “Why don’t you take everyone out back?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem,” he says but he doesn’t move, he just continues to stare.

Back in the living room, Garrett slaps Nix on the knee and tells Ellie to follow him as he walks toward the glass doors.

Xander stays put until everyone has left the room, then running his eyes over River’s bare chest he says, “Bro, it’s almost eleven on a workday, you two really need to get over the whole rabbits-and– honeymoon phase and join the real world.”

“Fuck off.”

Xander feigns offense and puts his palm on his chest. Then gesturing to me he quotes the line River used to say to the guys before he became comfortable swearing in front of me. “Language, man, language.”

River reaches his arm back around me and pulls the hem of my shirt down.

Xander continues to laugh as he walks toward the doors and exits to the patio. “Hurry up and get dressed. It’s rude to keep everyone waiting.”

River and I head to the bedroom. He grabs a shirt and as he’s slipping it on he says, “Hopefully this won’t take too long.” When he kisses me and turns toward the door, I grab his arm. “Hey, what were you going to say before Xander came in?”

He pauses a brief second, then kisses me again. “That I love you.”

“River, I know something else is going on. What is it? Just tell me.”

“It’s nothing, really. I just think all of this tour shit is getting to me.” Both his voice and his eyes waver and I’m not convinced that’s really what he was going to tell me.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later. Let me go take care of the latest issues before Xander loses it.”

I offer him a reassuring smile before he turns back around and walks toward the door. As he disappears I can’t help but hope that the actual tour goes better than the planning of it—for everyone’s sake.

In the shower I decide I should probably get a new phone today. On the way out of the bathroom, I glance at all the pictures on my dresser and my eyes stop on the one of Grace and me at my graduation. I have to talk to her today. Using the house phone, I call her and make plans to meet her in Laguna for lunch.

Once I pull my jeans on, throw my Madonna T-shirt over my head, and grab my black sweater, I put my tall black boots on and head for the kitchen. Glancing outside, I can see everyone is deep in conversation, except River. He’s hunched over, scrubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes. Even though I know he’s going on tour out of obligation, agreeing to it may not have been the best choice for him or the band.

There’s a knock at the front door and I am surprised to see Caleb standing there. “Hey, come on in.”

He steps in. “Hi, how are you?”

I give him a small smile, but don’t answer. I’m not really sure how I am. I feel like I have a million questions to ask him, but don’t want to get into it yet. He knew all about Ben—no, he didn’t only know about Ben, he helped Ben. I feel resentment toward him and a little bitterness as well. I think he senses it.

He drops his head and looks anywhere but at me. “I just have to check on one of the circuits for the security system. The motion sensors seem to be failing and I think I need to replace the board.”

“Oh okay, sure.” Then pointing over my shoulder I say, “You know the way downstairs.”

“It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Caleb, it’s fine.”

“Hey Dahlia. I’m sorry about everything. I never wanted you to get hurt.”

I hear the glass doors open and I turn around. River walks in the room and Caleb looks up, startled—but quickly composes himself. “Hey River, sorry to intrude, I tried to call.”

Walking over to us, River extends his hand and Caleb reciprocates. “Hey man, it’s fine, what’s up?”

“I think I know why the alarm system keeps tripping. I need to check a board. I think it might be faulty.”

“No problem.” River nods his head toward the stairs that lead to the security hub downstairs. “You need help?”

“No, I got it. It’ll just take a minute.” Caleb heads downstairs.

Looking over at River I can see he’s stressing out. “Everything okay?”

He runs his hands through my hair. “Yeah, everything is fine.”

Fighting back the urge to kiss him, distract him to take away his stress, I take his face in my hands. “They didn’t look fine.”

“We’re just going through a list of details for each stop. Boring shit, really. You can join us if you want?”

“Ummm . . . I’ll pass on the boring conversations, but thanks anyway.”

Laughing a little he says, “I don’t blame you, I wish I would have passed.”

I shake my head at him. “You sure about this?”

His arms frame either side of me and he presses me up against the wall. He drags his tongue over his bottom lip and drops his head to my neck. “Sure about going back out there? No.”

I push him back. “I mean the tour.”

“I really don’t want to talk about the tour,” he says before his tongue finds mine and we both momentarily forget what we were talking about.

I hear Caleb clear his throat before saying, “Sorry to interrupt.”

We both turn our heads and River stands up straight. “What’d you find?”

“Like I thought, I have to order a new board. It should be here tomorrow,” he tells us as he walks past us and reaches for the doorknob.

River nods and says, “Thanks man.”

“No problem. I’ll call you when it comes in.” Caleb closes the door behind him.

Feeling relieved that all went well, but sad that Caleb and I seemed so distant, I tell River my plans for the day. “I’m going to go get a new phone and meet Grace for lunch.”

He looks at me intently. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s fine and besides,” I say motioning outside, “you’re in the middle of a meeting.”

With a glance over to the group huddled around our patio table he says, “That’s not important. I can bag out if you need me.”

Taking his face in my hands and looking into his eyes I say, “I think I need to talk to Grace on my own.” There’s a long pause before I remind him, “But I always need you.”

* * *

I arrive at Aestas’s first and the hostess shows me to a table. Sipping my water, I wait nervously for Grace. The restaurant is busy and people are animatedly talking around me. Playing with my new phone, I assign River his old ringtone, “Sexy Back.” Then I send him a quick text.

Dahlia: Just wanted to tell you I have my new phone in case you want to tell me how much you miss me :)

River: I always miss you and I was just thinking about you.

Dahlia: What were you thinking about?

River: The way you looked walking out the door in those boots.

Dahlia: You’re in a meeting, why are you thinking about my boots?

River: Because I’m bored as hell and trust me, it’s not only the boots I’m thinking about.

Just as I’m about to text River back, telling him that I’d be happy to entertain him during his boredom, I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Dahlia, honey,” Grace says, standing over me, and I drop my phone in my purse before standing up to greet her.

Looking down into her face, I see she looks older, worn, even. Her natural glow seems to have dissipated. Her usually tidy blond hair is disheveled. Her blue eyes look dull and there are dark circles under them. The tranquility I usually feel when I see her just isn’t there. When I hug her, her body is shaking.

Clinging to her, I hope to calm her trembling. “Oh Grace,” is all I can manage before she pulls back. Her voice is shaky and I can see that this has really taken a toll on her. “Let’s sit down and talk.”

We both settle in at the small table draped in white linen and place our napkins on our laps. I don’t even know how to begin this conversation. But Grace, being true to form, leads the way.

“Dahlia, how are you holding up?”

I shrug my shoulders, “I’m okay.”

“I’m glad you called me.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I just needed some time.”

Grace looks at me for a few moments and then asks point-blank, “Aren’t you glad Ben’s alive?”

Taken aback, I stammer. That’s the one question I had yet to even ask myself. “God, of course I am.” Because it’s true, of course I’m glad he’s alive and not dead. Who wouldn’t be?

Her next question comes rapidly and I try to remain calm. “Then is it because of the way we told you? I’m sorry for that, that was not how I wanted you to find out.”

“Grace, I’m not upset about how I learned that Ben’s really alive. I get that there was no easy way.”

“Then is it because of the attack? I am so grateful that you’re okay, but you have to know he had no idea you’d be in danger.”

“No, I was only upset that all of you knew and none of you told me who attacked me.”

“Dahlia, that was for your sake. I wanted to be there when flashes of Ben’s death would inevitably come flooding back to you. Hearing the news that Ben’s shooter was released was so upsetting, but then learning it was him that attacked you would have been overwhelming. I just wanted to be with you, to tell you myself.”

“Grace, I’m stronger now. I’m not that same girl you gave the necklace to—the girl who needed to hold on to the past. I don’t like things to be hidden from me; it wasn’t your decision to make to withhold that information. But honestly, all of that has nothing to do with Ben.”

“I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

“I know that. And Grace, I’m not upset at you for it anymore.”

“So I’m confused, Dahlia. Why won’t you forgive him? Talk to him again?”

Before I can answer, the waiter approaches our table and I order an extra dirty martini and Grace orders a sparkling water. When he leaves I pick up where we left off. “The word forgive means something different to each of us and we each chose whether we can do it or not. I did hear him out and once he started to explain everything it only made me angrier. I just don’t think talking to him again will change anything. It won’t make me forget what I went through—or help me forgive him. It would be like saying I’m okay with what I went through because of him and I’m not okay with that. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

Leaning closer, she squeezes my hand. “I’m not sure about that, Dahlia. I think if you just calmly sit down with him and really listen, you could try to understand why he left. He left to protect you—and if you can understand that, you’d be able to forgive him.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve really had enough with everyone always wanting to protect me. And how is causing me so much pain and suffering protecting me? Grace, I’m not mad at the fact that he didn’t actually die. I just can’t forgive the act itself—pretending to die.”

Grace reacts more dramatically than I would ever have expected. “Dahlia, you just have to get past this wall you’ve put up and let him in. Forgive him. He gave up a lot for you! Surfing and now his life.”

As I stare at her, trying to understand where this conversation is headed, the waiter brings us our drinks and without even glancing at our menus, we both order a salad. Taking a large sip from my glass, I set it down and prepare to tell her what she doesn’t want to hear.

“His reasons, what he did, why he did it—they don’t change the impact his death had on not just me, but all of us. We all felt the pain and mourned for him in our own way for a long time. And it was his choice, his choice to leave, his choice to keep evidence. Don’t you get it—he made a choice. You may have been able to forgive him for all that and that’s fine, but that doesn’t mean I can.”

Rubbing her hands together she says, “I do get it but choices aren’t always that easy, Dahlia. Ben suffered, too. In fact, he’s still suffering.”

Suddenly, it’s like all of the emotional turmoil I’ve experience these last few days comes rushing back. Setting my glass down, I have to tell her, “Danger, protection, disappearing—Grace, it’s just insane, the whole thing.”

Our salads arrive and we both push our forks around, without really eating or talking.

Without warning, she drops her fork and focuses on me. “Dahlia, will you please forgive him? For me? He has a whole life to rebuild and he really wants you in it.”

Exasperation takes hold of me and I have to tell her, “I am not getting back together with him. You can’t possibly think that.”

“No, I’d never ask you to do that. I know you’re happy. Just hear him out. He needs your forgiveness in order to be able to move on, move away from these sad past few years. And Dahlia, before anything else you were friends. Can’t you get back to that?”

I shake my head no. “What he needs? What about what I needed? What about the life I led?”

She stares at me for a long while before standing up and coming to crouch beside me. She holds both my hands and when she finally speaks, it doesn’t sound like her voice at all. It’s small and full of pain. “Dahlia, I think of you as my daughter. You know that. And it’s for this reason I feel you need to take a step back and look at what you’re doing. You need to face the situation. Not only have you been through a lot, but so has he. I think talking to him will help you move past your anger and maybe even help toward rebuilding your friendship.”

Standing up, I toss my napkin on the table and grab my purse. “Grace, I’m not ready to forgive him. There is nothing he can do to take back what I went through because of his decisions. My anger is justified and I don’t know if I’ll ever get past it.”

She makes one last plea, “Dahlia, you owe him at least forgiveness.”

“I don’t owe him anything.”

With that, I have to leave the restaurant before I lose my composure. I try to take deep calming breaths. I reach my car and want to scream when I see the folded piece of paper on my windshield. I take his remember-me item and without even opening it, rip it into pieces and let it fall to the ground. Finally, all the emotion and events of the past days paralyze me as I’m getting into the car. I put my hands on the roof, taking short quick breaths, trying to pump the air back into my lungs. I think about what Grace asked me—and even though I would do almost anything for her, I can’t do it. I can’t look at the situation through rose-colored glasses like she always does.