Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Noa
F ew people can make me feel like a teenager who just disappointed her parents for the last time, but Mrs. Stalinski can.
Standing in her foyer as she lectures us on public decency and getting red sauce on her carpets, I’m transported to the times the adults in our lives caught Stone and me.
It wasn’t often—Stone is as wily as I am afraid of authority—but when we were nabbed by someone paying attention; it was serious, and we became the discussion of many weekly cribbage games.
This is one of those times.
“Thank God you two weren’t injured,” she says as she faces us down.
Mrs. Stalinski is a head shorter than me, her spine bowed with fatigue and illness, but today is a good day, since she has the energy to stand before us and lecture us as efficiently as she did when we were kids.
She turns to Stone. “But you should know better than to approach those boys. They’re more trouble than they’re worth. ”
“I’m sorry, Ma,” Stone says, head down.
He means it, but by being around him so often, the words probably have no meaning to him anymore. I’m not sure how I feel about the battering he’s receiving from the world. My heart is in constant argument with my brain over what should be more important—Stone’s pain or his repentance.
Mrs. Stalinski puts a hand to her forehead. “I raised you better than this.”
“You’re tired.” I come between them, ending the war in my body by going with my heart this time. “I’ll help you to your room.”
“No.” Stone’s large form steps in front of mine. “I’ll take her.”
She folds into his arms and they take the stairs together. I remain a respectful distance behind, separating from them when I reach the top of the stairs and heading to the guest bedroom to shower and change.
The stale smell of garlic and tomatoes has dulled my senses and I’m tempted never to make another pasta dish again.
I eagerly twist the shower faucet and strip out of my ruined scrubs, noting the stains leaked through onto my white bra and underwear.
Moo appears through the open bathroom door, sniffs at the discarded clothing, kneads it with a loud purr, then does one circle and curls up on it.
“Not you, too,” I moan. “If you don’t get off that pile of store-bought sauce, I’ll take you in the shower with me to wash the smell off.”
Moo blinks his green eyes at me.
“I swear I will,” I threaten.
Moo licks his chops and stares blandly.
Aware that I’m lecturing my cat while naked, I give up and step into the shower. The cleanse feels good, the water hot and my familiar soap sudsy and comforting. I take longer than necessary before finishing and wrapping a towel around myself.
I’d left the door ajar for Moo to go in and out of and I’m not surprised to find him gone when I pull back the shower curtain.
My relaxing spa moment ends when I push the bathroom door the rest of the way open and find Stone sitting at the foot of the bed petting Moo, who is curled up on his lap.
I greet him with a choked scream and clutch my towel.
Stone raises his head, his hair damp. He’s dressed in a new pair of slacks and button-down.
I expect a comment about my grasp for chastity when he’s seen all there is to see of me and it’s nothing new to him. I brace myself for it.
Stone’s gaze runs down my body, snagging on my most sensitive parts, his ice-blue eyes melting at the sight before re-hardening when he comes back to my face. He says nothing.
“Can I help you?” I prompt. “If you don’t want to knock first, at least respect my privacy and let me get dressed.”
“I knew what I was doing when I punched that man.”
I pause, then pad closer to him. “What?”
“It was obvious who she was and who was with her, and I did it anyway.”
I ask tentatively, “Why?”
“Because I’m angry.” Stone chuckles darkly, pausing his stroking of Moo to cast his gaze to the ceiling.
“I woke up at three this morning to get to Rome’s ranch by four, because Ma wanted me to.
I submitted to a tutorial from a teenaged ex-druggie on how to stack hay bales, then listened to my former best friend explain what a screwup he thinks I’ve become.
This, of course, is after I realized how you truly feel about me and having to face the reality of my mother dying.
I exploded. I wanted the fight. I fucking relished it. ”
I clear my throat and pull my towel tighter around me. “So you’ve come in here because you want me to feel sorry for you.”
Stone’s eyes lock on mine, growing small with surprise. Moo, sensing the tension, leaps off Stone’s lap and finds a spot on the rug.
“Did you expect me to console you?” I boldly continue.
“Because what I saw in that store was a complete disregard for everyone, including yourself. You’re from here, Stone.
This is your town, and you’re fully aware how dangerous and vindictive the White Tigers are.
If you think your public figure status makes you untouchable?—”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Stone rises from the foot of the bed, his hands clenched at his sides. “I’m trying to explain to you the thoughts behind my actions, because I can’t stand the way you’ve been looking at me all afternoon.”
“How have I been looking at you?”
Stone releases a disbelieving scoff at my honest confusion. “Like I’m someone you don’t know anymore. Like I’m a stranger.”
“You are.”
“No. I’m not. I’m still me and I’m sick of this entire town assuming my career has poisoned me or that I’m a spoiled rich asshole who’s forgotten his roots.”
“But you did. You left this town behind and completely ignored us.”
I’m using plurals, but with the way my voice cracks and the sudden hoarseness coming on, my subconscious wants me to use the singular. To talk about me. My hurt. My years of loneliness when he wasn’t with me. When I didn’t come up in any of his public interviews, like I had no effect on him.
“I was trying to protect you!” he shouts, then snaps his mouth shut like he didn’t mean for his outburst to be so vehement.
“I don’t talk about this town, or my mother, or you, in the press or anywhere else, because I don’t want anyone but me to fucking know about it.
No stranger deserves personal knowledge of my past or how I became the man that I am.
That’s not what they want, anyway. They want the brilliant strategist, the guy who will make the hard calls, the man who doesn’t give a shit about the employees he fires and the lives he ruins.
They want the businessman, the profit, the confident swindler.
You think they love the small-town boy with a deadbeat father and a single mother who worked double shifts just so she could have the bail money ready for when I inevitably landed in an overnight stay in the sheriff’s cell?
You think they want to know about the boy who ran with the White Tigers for a minute to see if he liked the idea of that kind of family more than his own? You think they fucking want that?”
Each of Stone’s points brings him closer to where I’ve glued my feet. My hands ache from clenching the top of my towel. My jaw muscles tremble from how my teeth lock together. His argument hits me like the bullet that missed us this afternoon, zinging by my ear with too-close accuracy.
“That is who you are, Stone,” I say. “I was never ashamed of you. I loved you exactly as that boy. If you can’t handle the choices you’ve made, then you need to look deep inside and ask yourself why.
” I muster up the courage to say what I do next, not because I mean it, but because he needs to hear it.
“But I’m not your girlfriend anymore and I’m certainly not your therapist. Unload your anger on someone else. ”
Stone stares at me in disbelief. Then shuts down.
I stare over his shoulder, though my heart beats a million times harder than normal. “Maybe I’m not the person I used to be, either.”
Stone nods. “Message received. I won’t interrupt you again.”
He exits the room, shutting the bedroom door firmly behind him.
I collapse onto the side of the bed, allowing the towel to fall in a damp tangle around my form.
Facing off with Stone took the remaining courage I had after the day we endured.
I hate that I share another traumatic moment involving him, another memory to belatedly delete from my Stone archives.
The disastrous ripple effect he causes comes back with a vengeance, and I cover my mouth, trying not to sob.
Moo jumps up beside me, brushing against my arm as he rubs up against me.
“Thanks Moo-boo,” I murmur, picking him up and burying my face in his side.
He endures it, sensing my distress.
Tears build in my eyes when I smell Stone’s cologne in his soft fur.