Текст книги "Worth the fight"

Автор книги: Vi Keeland

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Chapter 35

Nico

It’s fucking killing me to keep away from Elle.  She’s all I can think about, but I don’t want her to see me this way.  Weak.  Scared.  I can’t even fight anymore.   I thought I’d moved past it all, moved on with my life after more than a year of running in place.  But the nightmares are back.  I can’t sleep and god damn Preach won’t give me any more of the pills.

She knows I’ve been avoiding her.  I’m ruining the one good thing that I’ve found in a very long time, because I’m afraid to close my eyes and see his face.  He haunts me.  Haunts me for what I did to him, but I fucking deserve it.

I’m on the other side of the gym listening to one of Preach’s lectures for the hundredth time, when she walks in.  I’m not expecting her, I don’t hear the door open or the sound of her voice, but somehow I feel her presence.  I turn around and look for her.  Our eyes find each other like magnets.  Fuck, she’s beautiful.  I love her in those god damn prissy looking suits she wears.  Her face is apprehensive at first, like she’s not sure if showing up unannounced is going to be welcome.  Jesus, I did that to her.  Made her feel that she may not be welcome.  What a total asshole I am.

She smiles at me from across the room and I can’t help but feel the first glimpse of light I’ve felt in days.  I watch her as she gets closer and see her face falter when she gets a good look at me.  I look like shit.  I haven’t shaved since before the fight and my eyes are dark from sleepless nights.  I’m pretty sure I’ve been wearing the same shirt for at least thirty-six hours and I’m wondering if I might also smell too.

“Hi.”  I see the concern in her eyes when she reaches me and speaks.

“Hey.”

“Figured if I didn’t ask, you couldn’t tell me not to come.”  She smiles at me apprehensively and it makes me want to reach over and kiss her so hard she’ll never doubt I want her near me.  But I don’t.  Instead I stand like an asshole and say nothing and just nod my head as if I can comprehend what is actually going on in that beautiful head of hers.

“Preach, do you mind if I steal him for a little bit?”  She turns to the bastard that was chewing me out a minute ago, who is now all smiles for her.

“By all means, take him.  You can keep him for all I care.”  The second part is mumbled under his breath as Preach walks away, but we both hear it.

“Can we go upstairs and talk?”  Her voice is low, sweet.

I nod and lead the way.  I pull down the gate to the elevator to my loft and suddenly it’s just the two of us and the car feels small.  She smells so damn good.  Everything about her is good, unlike me.   I hate myself for wanting her so much, even though she deserves better.

Elle puts her purse on the kitchen counter and takes a few minutes before she turns around to face me.  But when she does, she looks nervous.

“I want you to talk to me.  You won’t let me in.”  Her voice is shaky, but when I look at her she squares her shoulders and digs deep for whatever she is working towards.

“I don’t want to talk Elle.”  What does she want me to tell her?  That I need time to sort out the demons in my head?  The demons that I deserve to haunt me every hour of every day for the rest of my life?

She takes two steps toward me, stopping just in front of me.  “I can help… and there’s grief counseling…and groups to help people going through things like this.”

My response is a sardonic laugh and I can see immediately it’s the wrong reaction.  Elle’s face quickly changes from concerned to pissed off.  She crosses her arms in front of her chest and it looks like she is ready for a fight.

“You think it’s funny that I want to help?”

“No I think it’s funny that you think you can help.”

“I can help. But you have to let me.”

“Elle, run while you have the chance.  You can’t fix me.  I’m not some project for you to take on like charity. You’re better off with someone who is more like you.”

              Here eyes widen to saucers.  “More like me?  What does that mean? William? Is that what you’re telling me, I should go back to someone like William?”   Her voice is growing louder with each response.

The mention of William’s name from Elle’s lips strikes me harder than any physical blow.  The thought of that pretty boy anywhere near my Elle makes me froth at the mouth.  I’m angry.  Angry at just hearing her say the words.  But maybe that’s really where she belongs.

“You want William, Elle?”  Seething, the words make me sick to even her myself say them.

“I want you.  I want to help you, damn it!”

“You can’t help me, Elle.  I’m fucking broken.  I killed a man.   With my own two hands, I took another person’s life.  Only a monster does that. A monster that will rot in hell.  It’s where I fucking belong!”

“It was an accident!”   We are screaming at each other now.  Completely and totally screaming at the top of our lungs, each trying to get our point across by yelling louder.

“It was my hand that dealt him what killed him.  That’s not an accident, it’s murder.  And murderers are unredeemable.”

Elle looks up at me and she’s pale as a ghost.  For a second I think she might pass out.

“You really think there’s no forgiveness in what happened?”  She’s no longer yelling, her voice is low and breaks mid-sentence.

“Forgiveness from who, Elle?  The only person that could grant me absolution is dead.”

Tears are streaming down her face as she runs out of my loft and rips the elevator door down. I watch as she frantically presses the button to make her escape.  She’s desperate to get away from me, and I don’t blame her one bit.

Chapter 36

Elle

I have no idea how I even made it home.  The tears blurred my vision so badly, I could barely see. Panic seizes me as I think about how much worse it could have been.  The only saving grace is that I never got to carry out my plan to tell Nico why I can help him, what makes me so uniquely qualified to understand what he is going through.  I sob as I recall his words over and over in my head, “It was my hand that dealt him what killed him.  That’s not an accident, it’s murder.  And murderers are unredeemable.”

I don’t know why I thought we were the same.  We’re not.  I’m so much worse.  Yet, he thinks he’sa monster for what he did…and what happened to him was truly an accident.  Unlike me.  I’m the one who is unredeemable.   If he hates himself so much for what he did when he didn’t intend for it to happen, what would he think when he found out about me?  Mine wasn’t an accident.

I’ve suppressed emotions for so long, that it’s like a dam breaking when the tears start to come.  They flood me like raging waters.  Uncontrollably, I cry and cry until I finally feel like I’m drowning and sleep takes me as I surrender, my mind hoping to find peace at rest.

“You stupid whore.  I told you not to go running to your sister’s house again.”  My father grabs a fistful of my mother’s hair and yanks with all his might, sending my already frail mother across the room.  The pot on the stove makes a loud clank as she hits into the stove.  My mother’s face is already black and blue from last time and her nose is probably broken.  Although she can’t be sure since she stopped going to the doctor a few years ago.  Doctors ask too many questions.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you, you worthless cunt?  I’ll always find you.  When are you going to learn your fucking lesson?”  My father takes two long strides toward my mother and she folds her body into a ball to protect herself, bracing for what she knows is inevitable.  I watch as he rears his leg back and kicks her in the side with all his might.  Her body falls to the side, but she’s still huddled into a ball, her tiny arms straining to cover her own head. 

It’s not difficult for my father to lift my mother, he’s six feet tall and well over two hundred pounds and she’s tiny.  The last year has been so bad that she keeps getting tinier.  She thinks I don’t notice, but I do.  Her clothes are all too big and she barely eats anymore.   She’s always sad lately.

He reaches down and grabs her off the floor by her neck, lifting her upright and off her feet in one swift motion.  Even when he’s this drunk, it doesn’t seem to lessen his strength.  Sometimes I think it gives him more.  More power.  More hatred.  The evil that’s always lurking in the depths finds its way to the surface and then it’s even worse.  Almost as if the evil gets bottled up so long that it explodes when it finally comes out.

It wasn’t always like this.  My father wasn’t always the monster he is today.  I remember him coming home after work and sitting on the couch.  He would playfully pull my mother onto his lap when she came to bring him a drink.  She would giggle and they would kiss.  I thought it was gross.  But I’d give anything to go back to those days now.  We were happy.  And he wasn’t drunk and angry all the time.

But then things changed.  He lost his business and we had to move.  Move out of our big house with the pretty green lawn and into a small apartment with a concrete patch for a yard.  My father hated to move, it made him really angry.  At first he would just yell a lot.  And drink.  He started to drink a lot.  Sometimes I would get up for school and he’d have liquor in his coffee mug instead of coffee.

Then one night mom burned dinner while she was trying to give me a bath at the same time.  And when Dad saw the mess, he smacked her across the face. Hard. I remember him telling her she was wasting his money.  She cried and apologized.  The next morning he was still passed out.  Mom told me Dad was under a lot of stress and he didn’t mean to hurt her.  It was just an accident. 

But then it happened again.  And again.  And again.  And the hitting got worse.  The smacks turned into punches and punches turned into kicks.  Until it got to the point where he was beating her almost every day.  She almost always has bruises and she didn’t go out much anymore.  We tried to leave a few times.  But he always found us and brought us back.  He would apologize and say it would never happen again.  Then when we went home, it usually got worse.  Like this time.

Mom’s feet are dangling and her face is turning bright red.  I’m afraid and I don’t know what to do.   He really may kill her this time.  “Stop!  Stop!  You’re going to kill her.”  Desperately, I beg my father.  Tears are streaming down my face as I grab his arm, frantic to get my mother air.  He swats me away and I go flying through the air, but at least I’ve managed to make him release his death grip on her throat. 

My mom falls to the floor, her hands holding her neck as she gasps for air.  She’s making a loud wheezing noise with each breath as she tries frantically to bring air into her lungs.   My father turns and looks at me, sitting where I’ve landed after his push.    His eyes are dark and crazy and I begin to tremble.  I’ve never been so scared.  He’s going to kill us.  Both of us.  I can see it in his eyes.  Whatever semblance of a man that remained from what used to be my father is gone.  A monster has replaced him.

I think he’s going to come after me, but then he turns.  His focus back to my mother, still gasping for air desperately on the floor.  With one arm he grabs her hair in his fist and hoists her back up, slamming her into the refrigerator.  Everything resting on the top falls, some of it landing on my mother.  But it doesn’t distract him.  Holding her head steady with a fistful of hair against the refrigerator he leans his head into my mother’s, his once handsome face contorting to the point that he no longer even resembles himself.  “What did I tell you I would do if you tried to leave again, you stupid little cunt?  This is all your fault.  You bring it all on yourself, you worthless whore.   You’re garbage.”

Then he pulls his face back and winds up before slamming his fist square into her cheek.  I hear a loud crack and I’m not sure if it’s my mother’s face or my father’s hand, but the sound makes me sick.  Physically.  I vomit all over myself.

My father punches her again and this time there’s no crack.  All I hear is a noise that sounds like a seal barking.  It’s my mother, she’s crying out in pain, but her voice is still gone from when he choked her.  It’s a horrible sound.  A horrible, horrible sickening sound. She can’t breathe and the sound is getting more desperate, but lower at the same time.  Like she’s running out of time.  She gasps again and I hear that sound again.  It’s the most horrible noise I’ve ever heard in my life.  It’s also the last thing I remember until the gun blast jolts me.

I tried for months to remember what happened.  I remember the sound, my mother trying to breathe.  Then I remember the gunshot.  It was so loud it hurt my ears. The ringing won’t stop.  I remember watching my father fall and seeing blood start to pour out of his head.  There was a lot of blood.  More than I’ve watched my mother clean up of her own blood after the beatings.  It pools into a circle that just keeps getting bigger and bigger.  Then the pool reaches me and it starts to seep onto my bare feet.  But I don’t move.  I have no idea where the gunshot came from.  Until I look down and realize I’m holding the gun in my own hands.

I wake up holding my ears.  For a long moment I can actually hear the ringing.  It’s exactly the same as that day.  Only when I sit up the sound disappears and the room is silent.  Eerily silent.  I slap my hands together just to hear sound.  I need to be sure I’m awake and the monster is really gone.

Chapter 37

Nico

It’s been three days and Elle still won’t answer my calls.  I know I fucked up, and I’ll understand if she never wants to see me again, but I need to see her.  Need to apologize for how I treated her.  She only wanted to help me, and I was too busy wallowing in self-pity to accept it.  I’m a total asshole.

I’ve called and texted.  The flowers that I tried to have delivered were returned to the shop twice because no one answered.  I banged on her door myself, apologizing and asking her to give me just two minutes.  Either she wasn’t home or she hates me so much she won’t even waste her breath to blow me off.

Swallowing my pride, I finally head to her office.  I just need to see her. I promise myself that I won’t make a scene.

“Hi Regina.”  I try to sound casual, instead of the desperate loser that I really am.

“Hi Nico.”

I can tell by her face that she knows something happened.  She tries to smile, but she looks sad.

“Is Elle around?”  I glance over Regina’s shoulder, hoping to catch sight of her.

“No, I’m sorry, she’s not.”

Fuck casual.  I’m desperate.  “Please Regina.  If she told you to tell me she isn’t here, go tell her I need to see her.”

There’s something I think might be pity in Regina’s face when she responds.  “She’s really not here.  She took a few days off.”

“Is she okay?”

“I think so.  She just needs some time.  There’s a lot you don’t understand.”

“I’m in love with her Regina.  I need to see her.  Tell her I’m sorry.”   Until the words come out of my mouth, I hadn’t even admitted it to myself.  But damn it, it doesn’t even scare me.  I need to fix this.  My own shit isn’t even important anymore.  I just need to get to Elle.

Regina looks into my eyes, assessing my sincerity.  She looks conflicted, but then I see her smile and shake her head.  “She’s going to kick my ass for this.  But, here.”  She scribbles something on paper and offers it to me.  “Her stepfather has a cabin out in Spring Grove.  I’m supposed to head there after work.”  I go to take the paper from her hand, but she pulls it back and looks up at me.  “You have until midnight.  If she doesn’t text me not to come by then, I’m coming and you are leaving.  Got it?”

“Got it.”  I’d make a deal with the devil to get that paper from her hand.

* * *

I make the three hour drive in just under two and a half hours.  The house is in the middle of nowhere, on a big lake.  It bothers me that she’s up here all by herself.  The closest house is probably at least a mile away.  The inside door is wide open, only a screen door keeping out the unwelcomed.

I knock and feel more alive than I have in days when she responds.  Just hearing her voice brings me a sense of relief.  She yells from somewhere in the distance. She thinks I’m Regina.  “What are you knocking for?  Come in.”

I open the door and step inside, looking around.

“Was Lawrence pissed I didn’t come in again?”  Her voice is coming from the back of the house somewhere, but it’s getting closer.  “Was the drive…”

She finally rounds a corner and stops in her tracks when she sees me.

“What are you doing here?”

“I talked Regina into giving me the address.”

“But…why?”

Hesitantly, I take steps in her direction.  She doesn’t move toward me, but at least she isn’t running the other way either.  I stop when I get in front of her.  She isn’t wearing any makeup and it looks like she’s been crying recently.  I’m such a complete asshole.

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

Elle says nothing, she’s waiting for me to continue.  “I was out of line the other night.  You were trying to help, and I was…a total asshole to you.”

She half-heartedly smiles at me and nods her head.  “It’s okay.  I get it.  You were upset.  I shouldn’t have pushed.”

I should be happy at hearing her say she forgives me, but it’s what she’s not saying that gives me a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Will you give me a chance to make it up to you?”  I reach out for her hand.  She looks at my hand and then up to my eyes, but she doesn’t give me the hand I am reaching for like a lifeline as I begin to feel myself sink.

“I’m not mad at you, Nico.  But I thought about some of the things you said.  And you’re right.  We’re just too different.”

My heartbeat pounds in my chest.  I forgot that I had told her she was better off with someone more like her.  Fucking William.  That was her response.  I want to break that stuffy asshole in two.  I can’t even look at her.  I need to get out with at least my dignity intact.  At least she let me say my piece.

“Okay, Elle.”  She doesn’t try to stop me as I turn and make my way to the door.

Chapter 38

Elle

The next morning I find Regina sleeping on the couch.  Traitor.  She wakes as I’m making breakfast.  Okay, so maybe she didn’t wake, but instead I woke her up by slamming all the pots and pans I took out.  Some of them didn’t actually need to be taken out of the cabinet.  But those just looked extra loud.

“I take it you hate me this morning?”  Regina walks into the kitchen rubbing her eyes.  “I’m sorry.  He looked so sad and, I thought…thought maybe there was a chance you could work it out.”

“Did you not hear what I told you?  He thinks I’m a monster.  An unredeemable monster.  And he’s right.”

“He said hewas a monster.”

“Only because he doesn’t know who I am.  And we’re keeping it that way.”  I look over at Regina for confirmation and she doesn’t look firm on her answer.  “Right, Regina?”

My best friend makes a growl of frustration in response before I hear the words I need to hear.  “Of course, you know I would never tell your secrets.”

Regina is my most trustworthy friend, yet I’m a little relieved to hear her recommit to our vow of secrecy.  She has a soft spot for Nico Hunter.

* * *

The next week passes in a blur.  I work twelve hours a day for seven days straight to catch up from the three days I spent wallowing in my self-pity.  There’s always plenty of work to do at my small firm, but ninety hours in a week isn’t really necessary and I know it.  But I need to keep myself busy.  I hate going home.  There’s nothing to do but think.  Think about a man that made my steady, even-keeled life into a roller coaster.  A roller coaster of emotions that I had forgot I was capable of experiencing.

My life was simple before Nico Hunter walked into it.  A good job, a nice guy to date, and no more nightmares.  For ten years I managed to keep my life steady.  I existed.  Then he walked in and suddenly existing wasn’t enough anymore.  And I wanted it.  I wanted to stop existing and start living.  Finally.  But I should have known it wouldn’t work.  Even at my weekly support group, I watched as people’s faces changed once they heard my story.

* * *

It’s Thursday evening and I’m late for meeting William.  We’re meeting a client we share at a restaurant.  It’s the last place Nico and I had dinner and just walking in stirs my emotions.  The slightest reminder is all it takes.

William waves to me from the bar when I walk in.  He’s not seated at a table like he normally is when he waits for me because I’m late.

“Hey.”  I look around for our client.  “Is Mr. Munley later than me?”

William stands and kisses me on the cheek and smiles.  “He’s not coming till seven.”

“Oh, I thought it was six.”

William sips his drink.  “That’s because I told you six.”

I look at him confused, although I really have no right to be.  He continues, “Munley doesn’t like to be kept waiting, so I told you six and him seven, so he wouldn’t be kept waiting.” William grins.

I’m surprised, but I shouldn’t be. I smile at William and pretend to be offended.  “Are you accusing me of being perpetually late?”

“In all the years we’ve known each other, I don’t think you’ve ever once been on time.  You’re forgetting how we met.  I was the one that let you copy my notes when you walked in a half hour late to class every day.”

He’s teasing me, but he’s right.  The only time I can even recall being on time was when I went to see Nico.  I couldn’t wait to get to him.  The thought brings my mood down.

For the next twenty minutes William and I catch up on clients.  We haven’t really spent much time together since the night Nico and I got together and I realize that I really do miss the familiarity.  We slip easily into our roles and our conversation is light and steady, almost as if we pick up exactly where we left off.  My mood lightens, slightly.

Then something changes in the air.  It’s a feeling that speeds my heart and makes my palms sweaty and I look around to see if it’s just me or if everyone else seems to notice it too.  And then I see him.  He’s twenty feet away and staring daggers at me.  My breath catches when our eyes meet and I see that look in his eyes.  He’s angry and wild and my traitorous body responds to him, even though I’m obviously the last thing he wants to see.

We stare at each other for a solid minute.  Neither of us attempts to close the distance between us and we don’t say a word.  When Nico’s eyes finally release mine, I watch as they go from me to William and back to me.  Then he turns and walks out of the restaurant, and for a second I think I’ve imagined the whole thing.

“I take it you two aren’t seeing each other anymore?”  William’s words confirm my vision was reality and not in my head.

I force myself to return my attention to William and shake my head no.  I can’t even say the words out loud.  Although I’m facing him, I’m too lost in my thoughts for the small smile that appears for a split second on William’s face to register meaning in my brain.

I’m under a cloud of haze all during dinner.  Luckily William takes the lead and I don’t think our client even notices.  I try to participate in the conversation, but I find my thoughts running away with themselves, and they all lead back to one place.  Nico Hunter.