The Love Series Complete Box Set (189 page)

“I’m going to the funeral. I don’t care that he knew.” I tipped my head to the upstairs window where I knew Shane’s father lay quietly asleep and wholly unaffected by his son’s suicide.

Instantly, her back straightened; her senses went on high alert. “No, you can’t.” She shook her head furiously. “He’ll . . .” Whatever thoughts were flying through her head couldn’t be formed into words.

“I don’t care.” I shot up from where I was sitting, anger spurring me on. “Let him come down here and tell me what he thinks of me to my face, but he will
not
keep me from saying goodbye to Shane.”

She grabbed my arms as they flailed around in anger. “Shh. Dylan.” Her voice took on an urgent tone, drawing my attention away from cursing the window above us. “I’m serious. You can’t go.”

Seething, I tried to reign in my anger, tried desperately to make sense of what she was telling me. “No.” I shook my head, and pulled my arms from her grasp. “I loved him and he loved me and I need to say goodbye.” I was resolved; there was no talking me out of this. I’d already lost him, but there was no way in hell I was not going to say goodbye.

“I wish you’d listen to me.” Her puffy, red eyes begged me, pleaded with me.

“No . . . I . . .”

“He has a gun.” Her words cut through my final protests. “Dylan, just . . . I know you need to say goodbye, but please, don’t show up tomorrow. For your own safety.” Her last words fell from trembling lips.

Both of us craned our heads to the front door. The loud thudding of stumbling footsteps came from inside, followed by a booming, “Rebecca, where the fuck are you?”

“Go,” she whispered, pushing me down the stairs. “You have to go. Now!” I tumbled and landed in the front bushes just as he opened the door. Without being seen, I was able to scramble to the side of the porch, hidden from his sight.

“Who were you talking to?” Even in the dark, I saw his beady eyes scanning the porch and front yard for someone, for me, even though he didn’t know it was me.

“I just couldn’t sleep. Needed a breath of fresh air. That’s all.” Her eyes were cast downward, her voice no more than a soft, obedient noise.

“You’re lying.” His hand wrapped too tightly around her frail upper arm and she squeaked in pain. “I heard a car. Someone’s out here.” His tone was laced with paranoia.

Tugging hard on her arm, he shoved her up against the wall. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” There was a maniacal quality to his words, a sneering laughter as he pushed her once more.

“You’re hurting me,” she cried, trying but failing to push back against him. Gaining leverage on his large frame was proving pointless. He released his grip on her arm and I felt like I could breathe again. He would leave her alone for now; they’d walk inside and I would walk home and figure out what to do about tomorrow.

When his hand flew in the air and landed with a loud smack against her cheek, that plan went out the window. She fell to the floor on a howling wail. He stood over her, his leg cocked back ready to kick her in the ribs.

“Leave her alone!” I knew what Rebecca had told me about his gun was probably true, but I couldn’t sit there and just let him beat her.

Like he’d just seen a ghost, he stared at me. Eyes wide and mouth agape, he looked like he couldn’t figure out what to say. Rebecca scrambled to her feet, slid behind the door. “Dylan, leave. Please just leave.” I barely heard her words over the blood pounding in my ears, over the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

“She’s right, fag.” He spat the last word, a curse meant to insult, but all it did was enrage me even more. Though he loomed over me, I stood my ground. “Didn’t you get my message?” His head titled to the side; a vicious look of murderous intention transformed his face.

An icy cold chill rushed over me. “Yeah, and I have no intention to listen to you.” I held strong to my conviction, but deep down, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. He was clearly unstable and there was no reasoning with insanity. “You can threaten me all you want and you can pretend Shane wasn’t who he was, but I loved him and he loved me and there’s nothing you can do to change that.” My voice rose in anger as he stepped directly in front of me. In my periphery, I saw Rebecca move away from the door. He turned to her as if he sensed that she would interfere.

“Stay there,” he commanded, and, out of fear, she listened.

His mouth pulled into an ugly sneer as he looked down at me. “Go ahead. Show up tomorrow. See if you can get in.” And then, as if he’d had enough of me, he simply turned and walked away, dragging Rebecca by the arm as if he were some kind of caveman.

When I got home, Dad was waiting for me, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t sleep at all, and when the sun rose early the next morning, I got ready for Shane’s funeral.

My stomach lurched up in my throat when we pulled into the funeral parlor parking lot. Police cars flanked the building and an officer on each side guarded the entrance. Dad parked the car and turned in his seat. “You guys stay here. Let me see what’s going on.” Before he stepped out of the car, he looked over at Mom, a sad and resigned look on his face.

I watched the whole exchange from the backseat in utter disbelief. Dad began to wave his arms around angrily while the officer tried to keep him calm. He kept turning back to the car, and when he’d look back at the officer, his eyes were full of sorrowful begging. All the officer did was unfold a sheet of paper and shake his head.

Turning away from the officer, Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, and returned to the car. “Dad?”

“I’m sorry. They have an order of protection. You’re not allowed in. Something about slander.” Mom and Dad shook their heads in disbelief. As for me, I wasn’t that surprised. I had a feeling he’d keep me away. I just didn’t know he’d go to this length to do so.

“Let’s just go home then.”

I didn’t want to talk to anyone, so when we got home, I went straight up to my room. For hours, I watched out the window to catch a glimpse of the hearse passing down our block, driving Shane’s body past his home one last time.

It never did.

Exhausted from not having slept at all the night before and from the overwrought emotions of the morning, I spent the rest of that day sleeping. It wasn’t until around three the next morning that I woke.

I left a note for my parents and packed my bag. I just had one more stop to make before I left for good.

The freshly dug dirt was still piled in a mound atop his gravesite. I fell to the ground; all strength vanished the instant I saw his name etched in the cool, grey stone. As if it would bring me closer to him, I traced my shaking fingers over the letters. “I’m sorry . . .” I said it over and over again as if it would somehow absolve me of my guilt and ease me of my pain.

When I’d cried myself dry and said all the “I’m sorrys” my voice could handle, I stood, brushing the dirt from my jeans. “I love you so much, Shane. I’ll love you forever.”

I had to take the sun rising in the cold, November sky, as some kind of symbol that Shane was, in some way, there with me.

Even though I turned and walked away, I never left him behind.

“Dylan . . . that was . . .” Dr. Baker reached for a tissue, blotting away a few tears. “That’s an extremely traumatic thing for anyone one to go through, especially so young.”

Since any kind of response would be pointless, I shrug and check the clock. “You said you didn’t see Reid again until Rebecca’s funeral. You never went back?” she asks when my silence becomes too loud.

“There were times when I had to, holidays, birthdays, things like that, but my parents knew it was too painful for me. So, they never really pushed me. Reid left for college the next year and we just lost touch.” I move across the room and pour a glass of water.

The buzzer from the waiting room surprises us both. “My next appointment,” she explains. As she walks me to the door, she offers her sympathies for what happened to Shane, for the hand I was dealt in his mourning. Before opening the door to dismiss me, she gives me a therapy patient version of a homework assignment. “See if you can’t figure out how everything you’ve shared with me is keeping you from getting where you want to be.”

I pull a face at her. “Isn’t that your job?”

She chuckles at me as she opens the door. “Don’t worry. I have some ideas, but I want to hear yours too. We’ll compare notes next week, okay?” Dutifully, I make my next appointment.

On the way back to work, I decide I’m too distracted to spend the rest of the day in the office. So, I call Reid and tell him I’ll be working from home the rest of the day. We don’t have any appointments or sessions, so I’m not all too concerned about missing the time.

As if they have something to tell me that neither my head nor my heart want to acknowledge, my feet take me to the doors of Michelson’s MMA. Conner is inside, chatting animatedly with a few customers. It’s impossible not to smile at him. There’s something different about me when I’m with him. When we’re together, the future no longer looks like something I’ll have to endure. Rather, it’s something I’m anxiously anticipating. The death and sadness that plague my past don’t disappear altogether, but the endless possibilities of what my life will be like with Conner in it have me looking forward rather than backward for the first time. The pain isn’t gone completely, but it’s less intense.

He’s been nothing but open and honest with me, and all I’ve done is try my best to keep him at arm’s length—off in the distance where not dealing with my emotions is easier. Like a train blaring its horn as it passes an intersection, the answer to Dr. Baker’s homework runs me over as I stand there watching Conner.

Spurred on by some mysterious newfound courage, I walk through the doors. A warm sensation of familiarity bathes over me as the bell jingles over my head. Rachel shoots me a death-ray stare from her seat at the front desk. “Can I help you?” Her icy tone tells me that Conner must have talked to her about my epic fuck-up. It also catches Conner’s attention.

Once he sees it’s me, he excuses himself from the conversation in which he was just engaged. “What do you want, Dylan?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t have time for you right now. I’ll call you when I do.” Without another word, he stalks away, leaving me alone with Rachel and her fury. Knowing I can use Rachel as a way back to Conner helps soothe the sting of Conner turning his back on me.

“Let me explain.”

“You have two minutes.” She taps the face of her non-existent watch, making her take-no-prisoners attitude clear as day.

“I screwed up and I want to make it right. I don’t know what he told you, but I’ve sorted out some shit in the last few days and I just want to have a chance to explain it to him. If I’m lucky enough, he’ll understand and maybe give us another chance.”

“And if you’re not lucky?”

“Then at least I tried.” I let out a sigh, pissed off at myself for even putting us in this situation.

Us. Using it to describe Conner and me isn’t as scary as I thought it’d be.

“He gets off at five today. Usually works out for an hour after that. Depending on how busy it is, he might stay to help close up with me, so I can’t guarantee what time he’ll be home.”

Reading between the lines, her dismissal of me is clear. “Okay,” I mutter, resigning myself to the fact that I’ll just have to keep trying.

“However, I
can
promise that he’ll go home by himself.” I turn back to her, a confused look on my face. “I’ll make plans with a friend. You can have some time alone to figure things out.”

Her concession is sudden and it takes me more than a second to wrap my head around it. When I ask her why she decided to do that for me, her eyes narrow and she points an accusing finger in my direction. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for him. Even if he decides to never see you again, he at least deserves your apology.”

I nod, agreeing wholeheartedly with what she’s just said. “Thank you.”

She nods, and dismisses me as she answers a ringing phone.

Since I don’t know for certain what time he’ll be home, I decide to take up residence on his crumbling stoop around four thirty in the afternoon. I’m prepared to stay all night. I’m pretty sure that Rachel won’t tell him I’ll be here. She seemed like she meant what she said.

All I can do now is wait.

An hour later, my ass is more numb than I ever thought possible. Pins and needles shoot through my legs as I stand. Trying to bring them back to life, I take a short walk up the block. The loud rumble of a familiar motorcycle vibrates through the air, pulling my attention back to Conner’s building.

Covered in denim and leather, he’s the definition of a bad boy. But knowing what’s underneath that gruff fighter exterior, that the tattoos and piercings are nothing more than for show, that he’s an honest and sincere man who is kind, caring and playful underneath it all, alters something deep inside of me. The need to apologize, to get to know him even more, to give us a chance becomes so overpowering that rather than walk to him, I have to run.

As I approach him, he pulls off his helmet and shakes his head. “I already told you. I don’t want to talk.”

“You don’t have to talk.” Out of desperation, I reach for his hand, hoping he won’t shove me away. A sliver of hope comes alive as he looks at me. There’s something in his mocha eyes that tells me he might not have anything to say, but at least he’ll give me a chance to speak.

He doesn’t take my hand, but he doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say anything, but he lets me speak.

“I’m sorry.” The rest of my words get stuck in my throat. I had them all planned out, but standing here in front of him, I can’t get any of them to function.