21. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
C ARLY
“Son of a bitch!”
The words explode out of my mouth as pain arcs across my palm and up my entire hand. I immediately yank said hand away from the hot pan handle and dash over to the sink. My other hand fumbles with the tap and a second later, cold water gushes out. I shove my hand underneath, biting my lip as the water slashed over the burn.
The door behind me opens and closes and Yule calls out, “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I say. “I just burned myself.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just steps in beside me to analyze the damage. He sees the red spot on my palm and puts two and two together. “You tried to grab the pot without using the rag, didn’t you?”
I don’t say anything. I don’t have to, as his frown deepens.
“Damn it, Carly, I warned you.” His usual easygoing drawl now takes on a scolding tone. “You’ve been distracted all damn morning. I told you that if you had something serious on your mind you could just go home for the day.”
“Except I can’t just go home, Yule.” Apart from the fact that I’ve already taken off way more days than I should, I don’t want to go home. Going home would just give me more time to sit around and do nothing but think about my problems. And lately, those problems just seem to pile up more and more.
Going home would also mean having no distraction to keep from thinking about Micah.
Except I’m thinking about him at work anyway, which is why I got burned, damn it.
“I’ll grab the first aid kit,” Yule says.
“It’s fine. I’m not bleeding or anything, and it will probably just bruise.”
Yule silences my protests with a dirty look and goes off to grab the first aid kit anyway. I sigh and shut my eyes, letting my head drop forward and feeling the dissatisfaction roll through me.
Why the hell can’t I stop thinking about that jerk?
Ever since I came back to Laketown practically bristling with rage, Micah Landing has continuously polluted my thoughts. My feelings oscillate between anger, hurt, and worst of all a strange longing that makes me hate myself just a little. I cannot believe a part of me still misses him. How can I yearn for someone who treated me like he did? Who yelled at me for defending him, who treated me like I was disposable?
I thought we were at least friends, but he clearly didn’t want my input or interference with his life. He probably only saw me as a tool that was supposed to keep my mouth shut and play my role.
I mean, that’s what he essentially said back at the hotel.
Every time I remember that, and also that scene with his grandfather, it makes me furious all over again. I’m mad at myself for interjecting, and mad at Micah’s grandfather for being a bully. I’m also mad at Micah for being blind to it.
But even with my anger, a part of me still can’t forget Micah’s look when the older man cut him at the knees, how hurt he appeared that someone he trusted ripped off his mask and exposed his vulnerability so casually. Like it was nothing.
I truly can’t blame Micah for being defensive because he probably felt so betrayed.
And that’s the thing that makes it hard for me to totally dismiss him as an irredeemable jerk. Because I always stupidly scramble to find the good in everyone and treat people with consideration they don’t often afford me. I’ve been like that since I was a child, and even as an adult, I’ve found myself excusing my parents’ abusive behavior on more than one occasion.
But I know I can’t keep accepting that kind of treatment. Especially not from Micah. It’s not healthy for me to make excuses for him to the detriment of myself. Even if he was hurt by his grandfather, what does it matter? It still doesn’t give him the right to treat me like he did. To yell at me. To completely refuse to see my side of things.
I allow the memories to stoke my anger, justifying my ire.
And then, ultimately, those thoughts lead to what happened after.
The sex that I’m scared to even think about, even though the memories still visit me at night.
And whenever I dream about it, I wake up wet and aching and furious.
I never should have slept with him again.
It was bad enough that I craved him before, but that afternoon… he awakened something deep inside me, something raw, a deep-seated need that I’m scared no one will ever fulfill again,
That’s ridiculous. I blow out a breath. And melodramatic.
So what if I had mind-blowing sex with him, big deal. I’m sure I can find someone else to have mind-blowing sex with. Heck, there are a few numbers in my phone that I can probably call for some out-of-town, no-strings-attached fun.
Both body and mind fight against that though, warning me that sleeping with anyone else right now would be a mistake. None of them can hold a candle to Micah and I’ll only leave disappointed.
But that’s just for now though. It’s only because Micah was so recent and is still so fresh in my mind. I guarantee later on, I can find a man who’s better in bed than Micah Landing.
And if not, well, too bad.
Great sex isn’t everything and it certainly isn’t worth my pride. I’m not about to turn into one of those women who cling to him and beg for his attention after he’s already made it clear he doesn’t want to be with them anymore.
I’m used to disappointment, I remind myself. What’s one more to add?
I shut off the tap and await Yule’s return. I refuse to think about Micah Landing anymore this afternoon. I don’t have time for that. I need to focus on what I’m going to do about my college tuition. That is problem number one right now.
On the bright side, I heard back from an accounting firm in Bayview and they offered me an internship. But the proposed salary won’t be enough to pay my tuition. Plus, I would need to stop working at the Tiki Bar to take the job, and also worry about the commute, since it’s in Bayview.
Typically, I’m only in Bayview twice a week for class and even that’s tough. Five days a week will be killer.
Unless I get an apartment in Bayview, which I currently can’t afford either.
And even if I could... would I leave?
Bayview is only a town over but it might as well be another world. It’s more city than Laketown, larger population, and everything is shinier and more modern.
On one hand, it might be nice to get out of Laketown for some time. I’ve been in this town my entire life, and I’ve never gotten a chance to explore what life in other places is like. Being with Micah is the first time I’ve ever traveled out of state, and just that experience was more intoxicating than I ever thought it would be.
And hell, there really is a whole world out there. There’s an entire glittering and vibrant existence outside of Laketown. Just a taste of it, makes me want to see more.
And as much as I’m mad right now, I’m grateful to Micah for showing me at least that.
But even with that, I’m not sure I’m ready to leave Laketown long-term yet. So many things keep me tethered here. I don’t know anything about the outside world, and I wouldn’t have anyone in Bayview. The added cost of getting an apartment is also another turnoff. Plus, there’s my family. They might kill each other without me here.
And speaking of family...
That thought leads me to the next thing troubling my mind. The text from Nate.
That in particular has been eating at me no matter how much I try to ignore it. It’s constantly nudging at my brain, plaguing me with guilt I shouldn’t feel.
And an infernal curiosity too.
I can’t help but wonder what it is he wants.
Maybe there really is some danger that he wants to warn me about. But then why not just do it over text? Why do I have to go see him in person?
More than likely, this is some ploy to get me to visit.
But I should at least go. He’s being held without bail and he might be sentenced soon. I should at least see him, even if it’s just to say goodbye.
Pain pierces my chest, but I restrain the tears as I hear Yule’s footsteps coming back to the kitchen. Tomorrow, I tell myself. Tomorrow I’ll go see him.
The next day begins with a surprise.
I wake up to an email alert concerning a transfer of money into my checking account.
I stare down at my phone, wondering if I’m still dreaming.
One hundred and fifty thousand dollars received into my account.
I blink away the sleep from my eyes peering at the amount again. And then it comes rushing back to me. That’s half the amount that Micah said he would pay me. He told me on the plane that I would receive the first half after successfully meeting with his grandfather and the rest once this whole thing was over. And even though the meeting was a disaster, I guess he’s still keeping his word.
But rather than delight me, the gesture makes me irrationally furious. Because how dare he?
Is he sending me money out of pity? Or is he buying my silence? Either way, I’m angry that he would just send me anything without even a word of an apology for how shitty he treated me. Does he think that’s all it takes? That all he has to do when he fucks up is throw money at the problem?
Well, not with me, asshole.
And so, although it hurts and I really could use that money for a lot, I immediately get into contact with my bank, to start the process of reversing the money back into whatever account sent it.
Because I’m not taking that bullshit.
Once I’m done, I finally get dressed and head downstairs. My first stop this morning is the Bayview Penitentiary, where Nate is being held before his trial. Thankfully, neither my mother nor father are at home, so I have a quiet breakfast by myself before I leave.
The Bayview Penitentiary is one U-shaped building with dull grey walls and a fluorescent light over the entrance that never stops blinking. The air is oppressive and heavy, and the interior smells stale, like sweaty bodies and hopelessness. The minute I walk into the dark lobby, I’m assailed by the echoing clang of metal doors and shuffling footsteps. I head over to the counter to sign in, and they lead me into a vast waiting room with concrete walls and large windows that allow light to pour in.
I sit and wait nervously as they retrieve my cousin. And then he comes out and takes the seat.
We stare at each other in silence for several seconds.
“Hey, Carly,” he says. “You look good.”
“You don’t.” Nate was considered good-looking before all this happened, but he seems to have aged several years in just a few months. He’s painfully thin now, pale skin a stark contrast to his overgrown dark hair. His eyes have bags underneath them and collarbones jut out of his skin. He looks like he hasn’t slept or eaten much.
Emotion washes through me. It hurts me to see him like this. For all his faults, Nate has always been the only one in our family who actively cared about me. He would babysit me sometimes, and when I was really hungry, I could call him and he would bring food over. I would later find out most of that food was stolen but still. I don’t even blame him for his pilfering ways. At least my parents bothered to feed us most of the time. His mother was usually high out of her mind and his dad was nowhere to be found.
He had to learn from a young age to take care of himself.
Which is why he’s now twenty years old and being held on trial for theft, accessory to kidnapping, and accessory to murder.
“So how have you been?” he asks, trying to look laidback as always. He even attempts a smile as though that would help with the gauntness.
I sigh, steeling my heart. “Why did you call me here, Nate?”
“You’re still mad at me.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course, I’m still mad at you. And more than that, I’m disappointed. I thought… you promised me you wouldn’t do that stuff again. And like an idiot, I believed you.”
To his credit, my cousin looked chagrined.
Once, when I was fifteen, Nate made me lie to the cops on his behalf. I swore to the police that he was with me while he’d been out carjacking, and I lied because he promised me he would never do anything like that again. I cried after, feeling so guilty, and made Nate swear to me that he would go on the straight and narrow from then on.
And for a while, I thought he was keeping to the promise. I defended him to anyone who talked badly about him and told them that he had changed.
Only to once again be made the fool.
“Nate, I’m not having a great day, so just tell me what you want to talk to me about. You said I might be in danger?”
“Yeah, yeah.” His hands fiddled on the table. “But I don’t think you are.”
“What?”
“I don’t know I...” His eyes shift around the whole room before they come back to me again. “Have you noticed anyone watching you? Received any strange calls?”
‘What are you talking about, Nate?”
“If not, then it’s fine,” he says. “Just forget about it. You shouldn’t know. But if you see anyone, especially an old man with a burn scar on his face and neck, then go to the police. No, not the police that’s too dangerous... Declan–”
“Are you messing with me right now?” I say. “Because that’s not even remotely funny.”
He smiles. “I missed you, Carls.”
The nickname and the affectionate gaze are like a punch in the gut.
I can’t do this. Unshed tears push at the back of my eyes.
I hate seeing him like this. I hate that this is how his story ends. That I couldn’t somehow prevent this from happening.
And I hate that I feel that deep down, he’s still the kind Nate I’ve always known.
I have to go before I break down again. The chairs scrape against the floor as I push back and get to my feet.
“Goodbye, Nate,” I croak and hightail it out of there.