Chapter Twenty-One
Lainey
Thomas stays curled around me for what feels like a lifetime, while I hold him close, trying to process the fact that he’s here. And I don’t mean here in Heartwood because I saw him last night. I mean here…in my arms.
When he finally pulls away, I take my time to study him, making notes of any changes since I saw him three years ago. His wispy brown hair sits a little longer on the top, giving him a more rugged look as the strands flop across his forehead. I can’t tell if it’s a look he’s going for, or if he’s been running his hands through the thickness. Either way, it’s working for him. On top of that change, it’s also impossible to miss his size. He’s bulked up since the early days of college. Not that I had to step back and study his body to know that. I felt it when I was hugging him, when his tight muscles flexed at my touch.
A shiver runs through me as he stares, drinking me in just as I’m doing with him. But when a familiar spark ignites inside me, I shake it all off. It was hell not being able to contact him when I left Heartwood and for the years after. Even when I turned eighteen, I still didn’t want to mention anything to Luke. All he ever spoke about was football and his team. I wasn’t about to ruin one of his close relationships. Then, as time went on, my feelings changed. All feelings, not just those toward Thomas, and now I’m not sure what it means to have him standing in front of me.
“I’m sorry,” Thomas says suddenly, scratching his head as he breaks the silence and takes a step away from me. “How are you?”
“How am I? Seriously.” I almost laugh. “I think it’s me that should be asking that question.”
Seeing him last night and having him completely ignore me hurt. But now it’s like he doesn’t even remember it.
Thomas smiles but it’s clearly forced, and when his uncertain gaze flits over his shoulder, my gut tells me something’s wrong. Something happened.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, sitting back on the swing before folding my arms across my chest—a little to protect myself and a little to stop myself from reaching out to touch him again.
Thomas sits beside me, running his free hand down his face, while the other clings to a bottle of whiskey like it’s a lifeline, his fingers clenched so tightly around the neck you’d think he was expecting someone to steal it away. He releases a slow breath before taking a sip of his drink and shaking his head. “I keep making mistake after mistake,” he whispers when he’s done, seemingly talking to himself. “I’ve fucked up so many times, I’ve lost count.”
I sit silently not wanting to interrupt him, sensing he has more to say, and he does.
“I hurt Summer,” he rushes out after the longest pause, his voice wavering. “I hurt my sister, my own flesh and blood, and I’ll never be able to make up for it.”
He sucks in a breath as a sharp pain radiates through me, the sting so intense I almost clutch my chest to feel for a wound. My mind drifts back to the last time I heard his voice and I involuntarily shiver. “Summer’s gone.” What did he do?
A million possibilities run through my mind before Thomas speaks again, and while it was probably only seconds, I know that if I’d held my breath, I would have been struggling for air.
Thomas clears his throat before taking another swig from the bottle.
“She was hurting. Dad hurt her. He physically hurt her while I believed his lies and everything he did to cover it up. I let her go.” His voice cracks, as his eyes well with tears, making it impossible for me not to get choked up. I let a few tears fall while Thomas aggressively wipes at his face, hiding the evidence before taking another drink.
“All this time, I thought Mom was hurting like I was, but she knew. She fucking knew. And she let it happen. She let Summer leave.”
He stares straight ahead as he tells me what happened, filling me in on his talk with Summer, his confrontation with Dylan, and the altercation with his parents. He mentions things from the past, things he’s never told anyone. But what he fails to mention is how he feels.
Although I don’t need him to explicitly say it, it’s written all over his face; it’s coming out in his tone, in his words, in his anguish. He’s showing me with every clench of his fist. He’s telling me with every waver in his voice. He’s completely shattered.
And he’s shattering me too.
I’ve heard the rumors, but the truth is so much worse. My heart breaks for Summer. For all that she went through. And it breaks for him too. How could their parents do this? To either of them.
Thomas continues to drink the entire time he’s speaking, and when he’s done, he’s a mess. When he falls silent, I stay still, unsure what to do, knowing that nothing I say could ever make up for what he’s been through.
Without a word, I reach out to grab his hand, but he pulls away, and my stomach drops.
“I had no one to talk to,” he says in a barely audible whisper. “No one to help.”
My heart clenches and I grip my leg to stop myself from reaching for his, my emotions threatening to drown me. When he turns my way, his eyes are full of so much hurt, I almost crumble, knowing what’s coming.
“You left,” he whispers, slightly louder this time, his voice choked with emotion. “I needed you and you left.”
His first tears fall as I answer. “Thomas, I…I had no choice.”
“Bullshit.” He stands, rubbing his eyes again, barely keeping himself upright as the almost empty bottle hangs loosely from his fingers. “Everybody has free choice.”
He turns to walk away, but a panic runs through me, and I blurt out the one thing I never thought I’d tell him. “I didn’t,” I yell. “Not if I wanted to protect you.”
He stills and his shoulders drop before he turns around. His broken expression makes my breath hitch, and it feels like a vise is gripping my lungs, shutting off the air supply. He opens his mouth to say something, but I see the moment he changes his mind, his expression hardening as his walls come back up.
“You could have said goodbye.” He looks to the sky before turning his angry gaze back to me. “You could have faced me when you told me to go. I would have gladly suffered any consequences. I didn’t just lose my sister that day; I lost my best friend. I lost you. And it fucking hurt. More than I realized it would, and… I can’t do this now.”
He scowls before storming away, leaving me speechless, and the moment he’s out of sight, I break.
I don’t know how I expected our reunion to be, if we ever had one, but that was not it, and while he seems content to push me away, I’m suddenly feeling for the first time in months. And I don’t particularly like it.
Ishould have gone home. When Thomas walked away, I should have taken that as my cue to get out of here. I know he’s in pain. I know he’s hurting and I know he’s drunk, but I don’t deserve his anger. He left me first. And I needed to do what I could to protect him.
I made my choice and there’s nothing I can do to change it.
I’ve been torturing myself for the better part of an hour, watching Thomas as he drinks himself into oblivion, when Luke wanders over.
“Junior Burger! You’re still here,” he says, stating the obvious, his words slurring.
“Do you think you should stop him?” I ask, ignoring everything else and gesturing to Thomas as he wraps his arm around a small blonde, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Flirting once again.
Luke laughs, and I realize asking him was a lost cause. He’s almost as drunk as Thomas is. “Let him have his fun.” He bops my head before leaning back on the bar and smiling. “He’s a pro football player now. He doesn’t get as much time to let loose.”
Luke talks like I have no idea who Thomas is, and I suppose in his mind, that’s true. I’m sure that according to Luke, Thomas and I only know each other because we’re connected to him. He probably thinks he’s our main topic of conversation. In fact, I’ll bet he thinks that way about everyone. If I had to associate a song with Luke, it would one hundred percent be “You’re So Vain,” by Carly Simon.
“Plus,” Luke adds with a grin, “look how happy he is.”
We both glance Thomas’s way, and sure enough he’s smiling like this is the best night of his life, but if you look through that, if you watch close enough, you can still see the anguish in his expression.
“Are you sure there’s not…more to it?” I ask, curious to see if his friends have his back.
Luke sighs, shaking his head like I’m an overprotective mother. “So you’ve heard the gossip from last night? Yes, he had a fight with Dylan. But it’s Thomas. He’s not one to let things like that get to him.”
My jaw drops while Luke’s smile widens. What the hell kind of answer is that? God, why is he so oblivious?
I stand from my stool, ready to give him a sisterly lecture, but as I really focus on his expression, something about it feels off, and I’m about to ask him to explain it when a new song comes on and he cheers in my face before rushing off. “Yes. Now it’s time to par-tay,” he yells, throwing himself into the mix. I want to smile with him. I want to find happiness in his happiness, but I can’t shake the weird vibe he just gave me.
And not much makes me truly smile these days.
I continue to watch the scene play out in front of me, sitting alone at the bar, unable to walk away, while the world around me parties. But when Luke’s teammate Nate comes home around midnight, and his eyes widen as he takes in the room, I relax. We haven’t had many conversations, but I can tell by his expression that he’s the caregiver of the group. Made even more apparent when he walks over to check on me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes still roaming the room. “I thought you’d be long gone. Can I drive you home?”
I huff out a laugh as I shake my head. I’m the least of his worries. “I’m fine. It’s these guys I’m concerned about, and I’ve got my car.”
Nate’s gaze follows the direction of mine, and he winces at Luke trying to breakdance in the middle of the room, while so many of the other guys look ready to pass out. When he sees Thomas, he freezes, and a flash of something new crosses his features. He knows.
“You should go home,” he says, only briefly glancing back my way. “I’ll take over from here.”
I’m torn between looking after myself and my sanity, or staying to look after Thomas. But when Nate takes off, walking in Thomas’s direction, I know he’s in safe hands.
And if I stay…who knows what damage that will do.
After taking my time collecting my things from Luke’s room, I slowly walk past the crowd of people still partying, hoping to get a glimpse of Thomas before I leave. Only he’s not there.
A sharp pang hits me but I keep moving. I know he’s not my problem, yet it’s really hard to walk away, and as I head toward the door, my legs drag as though they’re weighed down by lead, delaying my departure.
I want to stay, but the second I’m through the threshold, all that changes when an earth-shattering sound echoes through the air. My head snaps in the direction of the sound, but with the lack of stars, the sky’s painted in darkness, the only light coming from the street lamp across the road.
My eyes finally adjust, and my stomach knots as a silhouette comes into view. I take off in a run, my heart pounding rapidly in my chest. I’d know that person anywhere, and he’s worse off than I thought he was.
As I near him, Thomas raises a pole into the air and crashes it against his truck, the earsplitting sound vibrating through my head.
“Thomas,” I scream out, but he doesn’t hear me as he delivers the next blow.
Not thinking about the consequences, I rush to his side, trying to get him to stop as he lifts what I can now see is a metal rod and aims it at his windshield.
“Thomas,” I cry out again, but it’s no use, and I drop to the ground just in time for the shards of glass to shoot out in all directions.
“Why her?” he wails, his voice drenched in emotion. “Why the fuck wasn’t it me?” He hits the door next, over and over, his anger seemingly blocking all other senses. “Why?” he calls out into the night sky. “Why?” His voice wavers on the second “why” and his movements jolt as his emotions take over.
When he lifts the rod again, I try one last time to get his attention, rising to my knees and begging him to stop. “Thomas, please.”
His gaze flashes to mine before his eyes widen and he releases the pole, sending it crashing to the ground at his feet, narrowly missing his toes. He releases another heartbreaking wail before his body follows, and he collapses in a heap, his hands coming up to shield his face.
In the silence of the night, it’s impossible to miss his cries, and it evokes something in me that I haven’t felt for a long time. No matter what we’ve been through, even if he tells me to leave or pushes me away, I’m going to be there for him. He’s breaking, and if it’s not me, I’m not sure who else will be there to pick up the pieces.
Jumping up, I race to his side and curl my arms around him, pulling him into my hold. “I’m here, Thomas. I’m here.” He tries to fight against me but I stay strong, knowing with every fiber of my being that he needs this. He needs someone to tell him it’s not his fault. None of this is.
“I could have stopped it.” He sobs as he shakes, his words barely audible. “I did nothing to stop it.”
“You didn’t know. You can’t blame yourself. You didn’t know.”
His head snaps back and he stares at me for a second before finally giving in and wrapping his arms around me, sinking his face into my chest. “How could I not have known? What kind of a brother… human…” he trails off with his fists clenching the fabric of my top, pulling it so tight it’s uncomfortable. I’d probably care if I thought anything I was feeling mattered right now. But it doesn’t. This is Thomas’s moment, and this time, I’m going to give it to him.
He cries with his body vibrating against me, until I’m sure he has nothing left, and only after he’s been silent for a minute does he sit back and look my way.
“Fuck, Lainey. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve anyone or anything. But right now, I don’t care.” He grabs my face in his hands, his fingers curling into the back of my hair as he tilts my head toward him. When our eyes lock, his deep look of disgust penetrates my chest, but I don’t pull away. It’s not me he hates. He hates himself for what he’s about to do, but he’s too far gone to stop it. As am I. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait, my moral code no longer working.
“Thomas?”
“You’re too good for me, Lainey. You’re too good for anyone. But fuck, I need something good right now.”
“I—”
Thomas crashes his lips to mine, cutting off what would have been my half-assed attempt at a protest, as I melt into him. When I gasp at the pressure of his touch, he takes advantage of my open mouth, groaning as he slips his tongue in, tilting my head farther to deepen the kiss.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, buried deep within the memories of always doing the right thing, I know I have to pull away. But Thomas’s bruising kiss works to rid me of any goodness I have left, and as one of his hands tugs on my hair, the other softly drifting over my skin, leaving a shiver in his wake, I’m beyond caring.
I want it all. Until…
Thomas cups my shoulder and his thumb rubs over my collar bone—just like Heath has always done—unknowingly ruining the moment, making me spring back as though I’ve been zapped by an electric current. “Shit.”
In his drunken haze, it takes Thomas a second to get his bearings and then his eyes widen. “Fuck, Lainey. I’m s—”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry, and don’t tell me you regret it. You did nothing wrong. I just can’t.”
And while I should care about Heath, it actually has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with the way I feel. Even if Heath wasn’t in the picture, I still shouldn’t be kissing Thomas. Not like this.
I jump up and dust myself off before attempting to pull Thomas to his feet. “Thomas, I’m here for you in any way you need me…except that.”
Heath and I work because there is no risk of me falling in love with him. I can’t say the same for Thomas, and it’s not fair to either of us.
Thomas stares at me for a few seconds until I see the moment he pulls back, preparing me for what’s next. Only I never could have predicted what comes out of his mouth. “I don’t needanything else, Lainey. I’ll see you later.”
He picks up the metal rod and walks away, leaving me confused as I watch him, my eyes following his every move until he reaches the door. And it’s not until he disappears through the threshold that I understand his meaning.
He wants nothing more than sex. Even with me.