Double Clutch (38 page)

Jake wrapped his arms around me and leaned close to my ear.

“
So, the guitar guy likes you,” he said.

I turned towards him, wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed. “You and I are both hot commodities in Sussex County I guess.”

“
In a few years, you and me, we’ll be out of here for good. Just the two of us, no groupies, no mohawked rockers.” He kissed me again, and I felt a shock at his words.

Of course, they were probably just words that he said to add to my joke. Was he really thinking that far into the future? It was kind of ridiculous to even obsess about. If I went for the realist’s perspective, I had known Jake for less than a month.

That seemed the most shocking of all, put into such stark fact. Was it possible that just a few weeks ago I had lived an entirely Jake-free existence? My heart ached at the thought. He felt like he had always been somewhere in my life, waiting.

I turned back towards the stage and leaned on Jake. I moved my head to the side and breathed the smell of him in. I loved him. I loved Jake Kelly so much it made my heart thump. I stood in his arms through the next set, then Folly broke for an intermission. Jake offered to get me a soda, and I saw some guys come over and start talking to him. I was so busy spying on Jake, I didn’t notice that someone else had approached. Saxon grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the door.

“
C’mon,” he said over his shoulder.

“
No way, Saxon. No!” I dragged my feet. “Jake will be looking for me.”

“
Five minutes,” Saxon pleaded.

Against my better judgment, I followed him into the cold night. “What do you need?” I still felt drawn to him. Even though he had abused my trust and Jake’s, there was something good at his core that made me want to give him another second chance, every single time I saw him.

“
I have a confession, Brenna.” He ran his hands through his hair over and over and breathed hard. I looked at his bruised, scarred face. “I have never told anyone this, but I need to tell someone. I need to get this off of my chest, finally. I need to tell you.” He stopped and grabbed my arm again, and this time he led me even farther away from the din of the Red Pony.

“
Saxon, what is it?” I shivered. He moved to pull me into his arms, but I backed away quickly. He kicked at the stones on the drive, grunting with frustration.

“
I don’t know why everything has to be so fucked up.” He ran his hands through his hair again until it stuck up at slightly crazy angles. “I fucked up with Jake, I can’t leave you alone, and now I’m going to tell you this.”

I backed away again. “Don’t tell me.” My voice was smaller than I wanted it to be. “Whatever it is, I don’t need to know.”

“
I have to. It’s more than I can stand.” He walked over to me and grabbed my shoulders hard. “When I see the look on your face when you see me, I want to break something, Brenna. But you might understand this whole shitty situation better if you just know this one thing.”

I wanted to bolt, but there was something in his black eyes that was desperate. He fumbled in his back pocket and pulled out his old leather wallet. He took out a faded, frayed-edged picture and handed it to me wordlessly.

It was the spiky haired boy from Jake’s Polaroid. So that was Saxon. There was a woman with his black hair and eyes and his wicked-sexy smile. And there was a man.

Who looked exactly like Jake would look in a few years.

The lights and sounds and cold of the night all faded away. Jake’s father was in a family picture with Saxon? Had there been an affair? What did this mean?

“
Who is in this picture?” I traced my finger over the three faces lightly.

“
You tell me,” he ordered, his voice hard.

“
The kid is you,” I identified. He nodded. “The woman is your mother.” He nodded again. “The man is Jake’s father.”

Saxon’s eyes were pain ravaged. He just shook his head. “Not exactly.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Who is he? Jake’s uncle?”

Saxon let out a shaky breath. “That asshole in the picture is my father, Brenna. And he had an affair with Jake’s mother. Jake doesn’t know.”

I held the picture tighter. “The man who Jake lives with is not Jake’s father?”

“
No.” Saxon shoved his hands into his pockets. “My father got Jake’s mom pregnant and she married someone else, and pretended that the baby was that guy’s.”

“
That means you and Jake…”

“
Are half-brothers.” Saxon finished my sentence and hung his head. “I’ve known for years. I swear, I tried to be a good brother to him. My father never acknowledged him. When he split, he told me to look out for Jake. I just wound up screwing it up, though.”

I looked at Saxon, not sure what to say. It explained the undefined thing I saw when Saxon looked at Jake. It was love.

“
Are you going to tell Jake?” I looked down at the picture again.

Saxon shook his head. “No. I’m telling you. That’s it. And I don’t really want you telling Jake. This stays between us.”

“
No.” I put my foot down. “No more me and you, Saxon. You need to tell Jake. You’re brothers. He needs to know. From you.”

“
Why? So he has more people to hate for letting him down. If I’m just his friend, it doesn’t have to rip him up that I suck. But if I’m his brother? And the guy who’s raising him, he’s a cold robot, but he’s around, buying Jake a damn flashlight every Christmas. What about a father who wouldn’t even acknowledge him? It’s better if I keep it between you and me, Brenna.”

“
But why me?” I searched his face, his deep black eyes brimming with sadness. “Why not just keep it to yourself?”

“
Because I know you’ll understand.” He put his hand out for the picture, but when I offered it, he grabbed my hand instead. He ran his fingers along my skin and closed his eyes while he took a deep breath. He stuffed the picture back in his wallet, hidden from view once more. “I know you see the good in me, even when no one else does. And that’s damn rare. If Jake wasn’t my brother, I’d do everything I could to win you from him. But I’ve screwed him enough. He deserves you. I know you two are good for each other.” Saxon tilted his head back and exhaled a long breath of air. “That doesn’t mean I can accept you hating me. I knew you saw that I cared about him, but I knew you didn’t understand my motives. I just want you to know I’m not a complete fuck up.”

He pulled me close and I let him. His eyes were completely black, deep and bright with despair. “Let me hold you. Just for a minute, Brenna, let me feel like a fucking human.”

I put my arms around him and let him crush me, the air squeezed out of my body by his grip. He rubbed his face on my hair, breathed it in and groaned a little before he broke his hold and held his hands up like he was surrendering. “Go,” he said gruffly. “Go back to him.”

He started to walk away. “Saxon!” He turned. “Where are you going?”

“
I need to think.” Then his wicked smile was back. “But I’m not very good at that. So I’ll probably end up drunk and brawling. Just keep your fingers crossed that I get laid, too.”

I held up my hand, middle finger twisted over my index finger.

“
You know I love you best when you’re a bitch, Brenna.” He slid into his car and peeled away without a backwards glance.

I watched until the dust died down. I didn’t even notice Jake behind me.

“
Jesus, Bren! You scared the hell out of me!” His eyes were worried. He took off his ball cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me before you leave, okay? I’m not even going to tell you what was going through my head.”

I threw myself into Jake’s arms and held him tight. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“
It’s alright, Bren.” He tilted my face and kissed me softly. “What were you doing out here?”

I looked at his gray eyes, his crooked eyetooth, his kind smile, and I loved him just the way he was. I didn’t know if I’d be able to keep something so big from him forever, but for this night, I just wanted to be with him and enjoy the moment.

“
Just thinking,” I lied.

“
What about?”

“
How today was such a huge day for both of us. So much has happened so fast, it’s just a lot to take in.” That was true. I was glad to see that he smiled, looking relieved at my confession.

“
We’re good together, Bren.” He looked into my eyes. “I think it’s just going to get better.”

“
It will,” I said with so much authority I even convinced myself it couldn’t possibly be another lie.

I woke up the morning of October 11
^th
way earlier than I should have. Mostly because Jake was stretched across my bed, his leg draped over my mine heavily. I ran my fingers through his hair, newly cut in preparation for my birthday celebration. Thorsten was taking us all into the city for lunch at a famous Chinese restaurant, and then we were going to the Met, since Mom and I had been dying to go since we got back to the states and Jake had never been. Jake had parked down the road and snuck in to sleep with me, just as a treat, just for my birthday. He had to leave so he could get home and get ready to drive back before my parents came in to wake me.

“
Wake up, Jake,” I whispered.

He cracked one eye open. “Hey, pretty girl.” He pulled me into his arms and kissed me all over my face and neck.

“
You’ve got to go. It’s dawn.”

“
Happy birthday,” he stalled.

“
Thanks.” I put my hand over his face, spread my fingers and looked at his features from behind the bars I created. He kissed my palm and fingers, then leaned over the bed and grabbed his pants.

“
Good.” Even though it wasn’t really good, part of me felt relieved. He had to leave before he got caught. “No more fooling around…”

He came back up with a tiny wrapped box. Even the paper was great, bright pink with tiny gold stars all over it. There was a miniature gold bow on the top.

“
Jake! You didn’t have to.”

“
Just open it.” He kissed the tip of my nose.

I ripped the paper away and took the lid off of the box. I removed the cotton batting and sitting there was a sliver cursive “B” pendant on a black ribbon with three teardrop pearls hanging off of it.

“
Remember that book about Ann Boleyn we read? Well, you read and I listened to?” he asked eagerly. “This is the necklace she had in the movie.”

“
You got me an Ann Boleyn necklace?” I asked, not exactly sure how I felt about it. “She, uh, got her head chopped off, Jake.”

“
Yeah, I know. But she was badass and smart and sexy, so I thought we could just forget the whole beheading and focus on the good stuff. And your first and last name start with ‘B.’”

Just the fact that he had put that much thought into it made it awesome even if I would think about being beheaded every time I wore it. “Thank you, Jake.” I wrapped my arms around him. “It’s so beautiful and literary and historically feminist. I love it!”

He picked up the ribbon and tied it around my neck. I got out of bed and looked at it in the mirror in my room and instantly loved it. Maybe I would think about going after what I wanted and being kick ass when I wore it instead of beheadings after all.

“
I’m glad you like it.” He grinned. “I’m sorry, baby, but I have to leave now.”

He pulled his jeans up and his boots on, grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head and threw on his jacket.

“
I can’t wait for today. Don’t be nervous.” I grabbed him around the hips.

“
I’ll wear my button down,” he promised.

“
I love you.” I kissed him hard. “I love you, love you.”

He laughed. “I love you, Bren. I’ll be back in four hours.”

He jumped out the window and went running. I stuck my head out and watched him. I was about to snuggle back into my warm, if empty, bed, when I saw a package wrapped in brown paper on the window sill. I smiled. Jake must have left something else.

I pulled the package in and unwrapped it. It was a hardcover copy of
Sense and Sensibility
by Jane Austen. I read
Pride and Prejudice
after
Lord of the Flies
and fell head over heels for Austen, but hadn‘t had a chance to read
Sense and Sensibility
yet. I flipped it open, but the inscription was in a precise, neat script that wasn’t Jake’s. I knew exactly whose it was.

Blix,

It’s the great underestimated Austen. I like it because the people who should end up together do, romance be damned. Willoughby’s a douche bag, but he truly loves Marianne right to the bottom of his sucky black soul. Doesn’t matter. Austen knows that you end up with the person who makes sense, not the asshole.

Stick to Austen’s plan.

Happy birthday.

Love,

Saxon

My heart pumped and my head spun. I had to double clutch, two breaths in, one out, two in, one out. Without really thinking about it, I sat on the bed and opened the book. I was reading when Mom and Thorsten burst in, hours later, to wish me a happy birthday.