Chapter 2 Cillian
Cillian
The rumble of the bike beneath me almost broke me earlier today, when the sun was setting across the horizon and the pale hues brushed against the barbed wire of the fence I left behind me.
The grip of the handle, the rev of the engine only inches below me and the wind against my face. Four years went by in a blur, yet the life I left behind feels as if I barely know it anymore.
“You sure?” Reed questions as he parks his truck, and the alcohol swirling in my blood makes my head sway.
The idea of being released early on probation was one thing, and the expectations I had for this night were low, but tonight is anything but the celebration the men claimed it to be as beer bottles clinked and they cheered.
Longing for what used to be sunk its claws into me. As I stare at Kat, the light from her kitchen against the dark night giving me every detail, I sink deeper into the worn leather seat of Reed’s truck; regret and something else I can’t articulate weigh me down.
Who is she now? This woman I used to love and now a woman I don’t recognize.
Four years and her absence changed what was once between us.
I barely remember what we talked about the last time we spoke, but I know she didn’t tell me she loved me.
Her calls had stopped months before, but I kept calling her.
Until she didn’t say those words back. That was over a year ago and yet somehow I thought this would be the right thing to fucking do the night I get out of prison.
“Fuck,” I say and my hand runs down my face as I lean my head back, letting the reality sink in.
“You can stay with me,” Reed states as if it’s decided, turning the key over and the ignition protests just as much as I do. He keeps telling me that. He’s been saying it for weeks trying to get me to change my mind.
“I’m going in there,” I say and my voice bellows with more anger than I realized I had.
What’s between Kat and I may be different. I’m sure as hell different; colder, meaner even. Hell, I don’t know how anyone could love me after what I’ve done behind bars. A tremor runs through my hand and I form a fist to stop it.
“I dreaded a number of things,” I confess to my best friend, clearing my throat as I do and making sure to keep my voice even. “I dreaded seeing my father’s grave, I dreaded seeing my uncle Eamon, now the pres, who barely spoke to me while I was away. I dreaded seeing the fucking club—”
“Don’t say that—” He tries to interrupt me, his voice thick with sympathy I never fucking asked for.
The leather groans as I turn to look him in the eye. “It’s the truth. Some nights I blamed the fucking club. But I never dreaded seeing you or her.” Until now.
Gripping the handle in my right, and the strap to a duffle bag with essentials in my left, I swing open the old truck door and listen to it creak as I step out. Spending the night with Reed made me certain of one thing: we’re still the same.
“Now I need my hellcat back.” A nervousness prickles across my skin as the wind creeps up my leather jacket. “Even if she doesn’t want me,” I murmur beneath my breath as I hear the slam of Reed’s door and then his heavy footsteps quickening to catch up to me. “She fucking owes me.”
All I could think about every night was walking up these concrete porch steps.
As Reed races to beat me to the door, using the iron knocker, I’m all too aware of how I pictured walking right in.
Not stopping or hesitating in the least. She’d stand there, her eyes wide first with shock, then relief and adoration.
Sometimes that’s what I pictured as I fell asleep on that hard bed with images of her writhing under me in my head.
Other times, my eyes stayed open as I stared at the cracked ceiling of the cell, imagining how she’d back away, how she’d tell me she couldn’t be with a man like me. That she knew what I’d done and that I was all wrong for her. That everything we ever were was a mistake.
She told me then, in these fucking terrors that kept me wide awake just like it did last night, that she regretted ever being with me and it was over.
I prepare myself for whatever it is she has to say as a voice I know all too well calls out, “Coming!”
If she’s going to leave me, she’s going to have to do it to my face.
“I think this is a mistake.” Reed’s murmur is spoken just beneath his breath, as is my response.
“I’ll add it to my fucking résumé.”
The crickets are the only sounds I can hear over my racing heart until the door opens.
Thump, thump. The light of the foyer creates a golden halo around her. Standing all of five feet two, Kat stares up at me, her gorgeous eyes working their way up from my chest until she meets my gaze. Her expression isn’t at all how I pictured.
Time pauses for a moment. It’s gone too fast, but it stills long enough for me to take in her cherry lips, her hazel eyes and the shock that disappears far too quickly, replaced with a shadow that hides a woman I used to know.
Thump, thump. The door opens with a groan and she stands to the side, her gaze moving easily from me to Reed as she tells us to come in. Her cadence is soft but confident, and I nearly second-guess everything until she peeks up at me and her grip on the door tightens.
There’s the look I’ve been dreaming up, staring back at me through a glossy gaze. It’s nearly gone as quickly as I see it, but I know damn well it’s there as she glances to the floor and licks her lips. I don’t take my eyes from her and she’s quick to bring hers back up but it stops at my mouth.
Heat spikes through my blood. That’s my needy girl.
Even if she doesn’t openly admit it, even if she’s wary, she wants me still. The tension crackles between us, although it’s quickly extinguished.
“I could smell the beer and whiskey from all the way in the kitchen,” Lydia states evenly with a touch of humor as she leans against the open doorway through Kat’s home.
I’ve seen pictures of this place, Reed showed me. He kept tabs on her for me. And although the compliment is there—I like your place—there’s not a word that could leave my dried throat right now even if I tried.
It’s silent and awkward between Kat and me as Reed makes small talk with Lydia and I share stolen glances with the woman I never stopped loving.
Her thin cotton nightgown barely hides her curves although it’s baggy on her small frame.
I know I’ve aged while I’ve been gone, with dark circles under my eyes that never used to be there and lines from constant stress and worry, but Kat’s changed too.
Without an ounce of makeup on her, there are bags under her eyes and I wonder if it’s because she couldn’t sleep knowing I’d be knocking on her door tonight.
Her hair is shorter, cut just above her shoulders and dyed a pretty blond that complements her olive skin tone.
Kat walks past me, careful not to brush against me, to stand beside Lydia and motions to the stairs at my right. The instinct to slip my arm around her waist and pin her against the wall is only stopped by her statement when she says, “The guest room is ready for you.”
Thump, thump. I want nothing more than to hold her but instead I’m paralyzed where I am. A fucking guest room?
A chill flows through me, keeping me where I am and threatening to take her away again if I say or do anything at this moment.
Reed clears his throat and Kat crosses her arms, refusing to look at him. A beat passes and I finally speak.
“You two not friends anymore?” I motion between the two of them, although my gaze traps Kat’s and my pulse rages against my veins.
She swallows thickly before answering me with a gentleness that tells me she’s feeling the same thing I am.
That all of this is balanced on a cord wound so tight it may break.
“He didn’t tell me you were coming,” she says and licks her lower lip before adding with a sigh, “I had to find out from Lydia.”
It’s only now that I realize I’m far too drunk for this. Fuck.
I stand there, time ticking away, just taking her in.
My eyes roam down her body and back up and although I want her more than anything, I can’t help but to notice how her bottom lip wobbles and she catches it between her teeth.
It’s telling me the same thing that her glossy eyes and her defensive posture are.
Two strong hands press against my back. “We had a lot to drink, so,” Reed states, pushing me forward but I’m far from ready. Even if the alcohol is wearing on me, making my head spin and throwing off my balance.
The question comes out without my conscious consent. “You don’t want me here?”
“I didn’t say that—” She raises her voice for the first time, her gaze piercing through mine with thinly veiled desperation.
Reed shoves at my back. “You’re drunk, man, come on.”
My grip loosens and the duffle bag drops to my feet. “I need to hear you say it,” I blurt out and then catch myself. Fuck, she makes me weak. She has me under her thumb and doesn’t even know it.
“Say what?” she’s quick to ask and that eagerness promises she’ll say what I want to hear, but I’m too much of a bitch to risk it.
“Tell me you want me to stay here,” I say instead and then I’m quick to amend it. “That it’s all right that I stay with you.”
Reed bends at my side, picking up the duffle bag and not looking at either of us.
Lydia looks anywhere but at us too and all the while, I wait.
“Of course you can … I’m just,” she says and glances down, then back up at me, “… I’m just surprised you want to.” Her voice nearly breaks and the corners of her lips turn down.
Fuck. I hate this. I hate every moment of it as a cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck.
It kills me how she looks as if she’s on the verge of breaking down. Lydia must see it too because she’s quick to tell me to get my drunk ass upstairs. “Welcome home,” she adds before stepping between Kat and me.
I can’t help myself, though. I ask her, “Did you think I forgot about you? I know you haven’t forgotten about me.”
“Let’s go,” Reed says and grabs my arm, pulling me to the stairs as Lydia takes Kat’s hand, taking her away from me.
In all the ways I imagined coming back to her, this sure as hell wasn’t the reality I expected. That’s all I can think as I climb up the stairs, wishing I’d had enough beer to pass out at the fucking bar so I could have avoided all of this.
At one point I was strong for her, but after four years, all I feel is broken or pissed off and there’s no in between until I look at her …
I barely know who I am anymore, but all I want to know is whether or not she could love me again.