Chapter 48 Storm
forty-eight
Storm
Ifully expect Jess to slam the door in my face when she sees me. I knock anyway.
“I just need to see Tyler,” I say before she has time to shut the door.
I’m surprised when she moves out of my way. She looks so stressed. I want to put my arms around her, but I can only imagine what her reaction to that would be. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “He’s up in his room. They let him come home with me. I don’t think he’s asleep yet.”
Tyler is lying on the bed with his back to the door when I walk in. I sit on the bed and touch his shoulder. “Hey.”
His side heaves with one great sigh before he rolls over to face me. His eyes are red, and he looks scared. Scared of me.
I’m sorry, Jake,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
I don’t know what to say. Part of me thinks I should yell at him—make him face this like a man. But I can’t. I leave my hand on his shoulder and say, “I did plenty of stupid things when I was a kid. I made plenty of mistakes. I still do.”
“You aren’t mad?” The shock on his face makes him look even younger.
“Of course I’m mad. You did exactly what I told you not to do. You could have gotten yourself killed, you could have killed someone else, and you destroyed my car.”
He turns away from my gaze. “I’m sorry. I’ll find a way to pay you back. I promise.”
“We’ll figure that out later. Right now I’m just happy you’re okay. You’re in serious trouble, but you’re alive.”
He looks at me again. “Thanks, Jake.”
I’m not sure why, but I wrap my arms around him and give him a hug. “You mean a lot to me, kid. Never do anything that stupid again.”
Jess is sitting on the couch, staring blankly ahead, holding a mug of some steaming liquid when I come down the stairs. I approach her carefully. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she answers.
I sit at the other end of the couch from her. She doesn’t look at me, but she doesn’t tell me to leave either. I can feel the barrier between us, almost as if it were something real, a glass wall I can’t get through.
“I didn’t know you were home. Is school out for the summer?”
She keeps her gaze straight ahead. “I'm between terms. I’m moving to Spokane in a week to start my nursing clinicals.”
“Oh.” When I shift my weight, I feel the envelope in my jacket pocket. I pull it out. “I forgot. I wanted to give this back to you.”
She looks at me for the first time. “What is that?”
“The money you left in my car when I got home. I don’t want it.” I try to hand it to her, but she doesn’t move.
“Keep it,” she says shortly.
“I don’t want it,” I say again. I move closer to her on the couch, and set the envelope on the coffee table in front of her.
“You’re going to need it,” she answers without looking. “I’m going to guess you didn’t have full coverage on that car.”
“Actually, I do. I got it for the year you were driving it,” I try for the joke, but her expression doesn’t change.
“It's yours.”
“I said I don’t want it.”
She sets her mug down. “Keep the money, Jacob.”
I'm getting mad again. “Why do you want me to keep it? To ease your conscience?”
She finally looks at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I guess it means I feel like you’re trying to pay me off for leading me on for a year and then dumping me.”
She shakes her head and closes her eyes. “The money is for letting me use your car. I told you I was sorry for the way things turned out.”
I slide close to her, but the barrier is still there. “Why are you so stubborn? You won't let anyone get close to you. You won’t let anyone help you. I know it kills you that I won’t take the money. You don’t want to feel like you owe me anything.”
“I’m stubborn? You’re the one who’s still here.”
“You’re right. I am still here.” I move closer.
“Take the money, or not. I don’t care. I’m too tired to fight with you tonight.
” She stands up. “I made up the pull-out bed in the rec room for you. The storm is getting worse. I don’t think you should ride the motorcycle home in it.
” She could be talking to a stranger—her voice is polite, formal, and cold.
“You want me to stay here?”
“I don’t want you dead, Jacob. Besides, Dad is going to be home tomorrow morning. I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you.”
I grimace at the thought of facing Mr. Roberts. “Oh, so you do want me dead. Just line me up for the firing squad now.”
She looks at me strangely and then laughs.
The sound catches me by surprise. “What’s so funny?”
“You. The look on your face. Like you’re getting ready to face the executioner. I don’t know why I laughed.” She sighs. “Tension breaker, I guess.”
I stand and take a step towards her, daring the barrier to stop me.
“It’s good to hear you laugh. Even if it is at me.
” She looks down, but I’m already close enough to touch her.
I put my hands on her shoulders. Her gaze meets mine.
I touch her face, and she doesn’t move. “I miss your smile, Jess.” I draw my thumb across her cheek.
“I miss your laugh.” I trace her lips. “I miss you.”
I lean in and kiss her, daring her to stop me.
Her hands come up to my chest, ready to push me away, but she doesn’t.
She kisses me back, timid at first, but then stronger.
Her arms move around my neck, pulling me closer.
I drink her in, months of waiting and wanting driving me forward.
I move her to the couch, lay her down while we’re kissing.
She’s pulling me towards her. I lean against her, aching for this with every muscle in my body.
She puts her hands on my chest. “Stop!”
I pull back. There’s panic in her eyes.
I get off the couch, my heart pounding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...I wouldn’t ask you to...”
She sits up and turns away, curling up into herself into the corner of the couch. She won't look at me. She doesn't speak for a long time.
I kneel beside her. “Jess, I’m sorry. Please talk to me.”
She’s struggling to bring her face back to a mask of no emotion. I feel the barrier going up again. I’m desperate to stop it. “Jess, please give me the chance to—”
“I can’t, Jacob, I’m sorry...I just...I can’t be with you.” Her voice is wavering, as if she’s holding back tears.
“Am I really that hard to be with?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I swallow hard. “Because of Matthew? Because you still blame me for what happened to him?”
“I don’t...” She closes her eyes, like she can't stand to look at me.
“But you do. I know you do. Jess, I’m sorry. If I could have taken his place, I would have. If I could have saved him, if I could have kept you from hurting like this, I would have. If I can do anything to help you now. I will.” I take another breath. “But I need you to understand that I still—”
“Don’t.” She’s fighting to stay in control. I reach for her hand, but she pulls it away. “I’ve moved on. I had to move on.” Her voice is a pleading whisper. “Can’t you just let me move on?”
She stands, turns her back on me and then walks away without looking back.
A knife goes through my heart.
I’m paralyzed, listening to her footsteps on the stairs. The door to her bedroom closes. It feels like my body is full of holes, like it’s riddled with bullets. Worse than bullets. Bullets would at least kill me, not just leave a thousand gaping holes that will never heal.
I look at the ceiling. She’s up there, one floor away. Ten stairs and a couple of steps to her bedroom door. It might as well be 7,000 miles. Worse than 7,000 miles. At least when that distance was between us, there was the promise of something on the other side.
I can still taste her lips. I can still feel her body against mine.
I can still smell her hair. The soldier in me tells me I’m giving up too easily.
That I should fight for her. I felt something in her kiss, something as desperate and raw as what I've been feeling.
What if I went to her room and forced her to listen to me?
One thought stops me. I’m the one making her miserable. I keep pushing her. I keep coming back, even when it obviously hurts her to be with me. As long as I’m around, she can’t heal.
What if Stephens can give her what I can’t? What if he can make her happy again?
Rain or not, I can’t stay here.
I have to get as far from Jess Roberts as possible.
The white envelope catches my eye. Something inside me turns to stone. She owes me that much. I pick up the envelope and stuff it into my pocket. I pull my jacket around me and head out into the storm.