Chapter 22 #2
“Julian?” Ever steps into the dining room from the kitchen, arms full of containers. For home. Home. “Jayce? Who’s Jayce? Who is this?” Her expression morphs from uncertainty to suspicion, then betrayal at the next words spoken.
“She doesn’t know?” Taya’s voice swings my head back to her, then back to Ever.
My head feels like it’s stuck in a vice. Each heartbeat like a hammer to my temple. “Ever . . . I . . .” I track her deer-in-headlights look. I haven’t seen it in a long time. It breaks me.
She slowly, deliberately sets the containers on the nearest table and begins backing toward the swinging doors—like she backed away from me that first day at Fit. She’s spiraling. I can see it in every fiber of her being.
So am I, like I’m about to implode.
“What’s going on, Julian? Who the fuck is this?” She braces her hands on the swinging doors behind her, still pinning me with saucer-wide eyes—eyes that start to swim with unshed tears.
“Taya.” I release one of Taya’s arms and hold my hand up to stop Ever’s backwards steps. “But . . .”
“Taya, who died? So, what? You fucking lied?” She’s pushing the doors open with her back as the first tear spills down her cheek, then another. She tilts her head and swivels it from side to side as she asks, “And why did she call you Jayce?”
“No. Ever. Don’t.” I hold my hand up to stop her as my foot takes a step toward her. “I didn’t lie.” I turn back to Taya. “I thought . . . He said you died.” The swoosh of the kitchen doors whips my head back to where Everly stood, but she’s gone.
“Stay,” I command, releasing Taya’s other arm, holding my hand up like a stop sign, and dash through the swinging doors.
But I’m too late. The back door is wide open, and Everly is gone.
Then I hear the Jeep motor start out front.
I mentally curse this small town and that we leave our keys in our vehicles.
Coming back into the dining area, Taya hasn’t moved.
She’s still here. Standing inside Brew. Very.
Much. Alive. I stop just inside the swinging doors, just as Ever did moments ago, and watch her watch me.
I must look like a dog that hears a weird sound.
I even tweak my head sideways as I study her face.
Then she speaks again, snapping me out of the trance. “You thought I was dead?” It’s her voice. It’s really her. And she’s moving toward me. “This whole time?” Her welled-up sea-glass eyes spill. Another step toward me. “That’s why you never called, never came.”
Like the streaks on her face, my legs turn to liquid.
My knees sink to the polished concrete floor with a thud that sounds painful.
I feel nothing. I reach for her. My fingers dig into denim-clad legs and pull them to me.
Two shuffling steps and the denim brushes against my cheek.
The smell of horses and hay and coconut, her smell, drops my mind back into the Bennick barn, transports me back in time, almost four years ago.
The day Rusty Bennick discovered us half-naked in one of the horse stalls and threatened to kill me. The last time I saw Taya.
Her fingers threading into my hair just like Ever does snaps me out of my memory spiral. Ever!
Swiping my damp cheek across the leg it rests on, I stand and find my voice. “I have to go find her.”
She nods slowly, her haunted liquid eyes never leaving mine.
“Don’t . . .” My eyes scan the room like I’ll find all my answers there.
“Can you stay? Fuck. I feel like I’m unraveling here.
This . . . It’s too much.” I hold my forehead in my hand and take one deep breath, then speak again.
“Taya, I need to understand this. But I have to find Everly.”
She nods. “Go, Jay. I’ll wait for you.”
Now I’m nodding. Relief flooding through my veins that I will get to Ever.
I take her arm without asking and guide her through the glass doors and into the parking lot.
“Those stairs . . .” I point toward my apartment stairs.
“They lead to my apartment. The key is under the mat. Wait there. I’ll be back as soon as I can. ”
She’s swiping her cheeks with both hands—familiar hands.
“Taya, please don’t leave.”
She’s nodding. “I’ll be here. Promise.” She gives me a sad smile and turns to walk up the stairs.
That I am clear-minded enough to lock up Brew reassures me I’m not going batshit crazy or in the throes of some delusional psychotic break.
Once both the front and back doors are locked, I take off running.
I make it back home in thirteen minutes.
It felt like thirty. My Jeep is parked in the driveway.
The front door is unlocked. Once inside though, the silence tells me she’s gone before I confirm it for myself.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I burst through our bedroom doorway.
Her drawers are slightly open. Her bathroom things are gone.
My breathing gets shallow as I race back downstairs, through the kitchen and laundry room, but I already know.
I fling the garage door open. It’s empty. Allie’s 4Runner is gone.
Reaching into my back pocket, I swipe up to open my phone and check her location.
It’s off. Fuck. I call her, but I already know she isn’t going to answer.
It goes straight to voicemail. My heart rate thuds slower, my shoulders dip as I slide the phone back into my pocket.
I don’t even rub the raw ache in my chest. This is familiar.
This is what Jayce Keller is, what he deserves.
Nothing and no one. I slam the door shut, the sound of it rattling on the hinges satisfying.
I slap both palms on it once, twice, repeatedly until the sting in my hands goes numb.
With my palms stretched above me flat on the door, I hang my head and struggle to collect my thoughts.
She probably drove to Via. It’s past ten o’clock.
I don’t want to call or text her this late.
And what if Ever didn’t go there? Then I worry Via.
Where else would she go? Lilly is four and a half hours away.
She wouldn’t drive there right now. She’s never been to SLO.
She wouldn’t do that in the middle of the night.
My logical, level-headed, smart girl wouldn’t.
But that isn’t the girl that ran out of Brew and turned off her phone.
I’ve never seen her like that. I don’t know what to do.
Tapping one fist against the door while the other drags through the hair dipping onto my forehead, I beg the gods or the universe or whatever holy entity exists to keep her safe and bring her back to me.
To me, Julian, and our life here. The life that is just getting started.
The new business venture that is already setting records and promising to be not only lucrative but fun.
Why didn’t I tell her about changing my name?
It never came up. And that guy, Jayce Keller, is nobody.
Nobody that matters. Julian McKay matters.
He has a life and a career. Friends and a home.
And a woman he loves, who loves him. Right?
She loves me. She’ll come back. She’ll talk to me.
She’ll understand. I don’t even understand. Taya . . .
I bend over, rest my hands on my knees and take three deep breaths.
Standing, I walk back through the kitchen and into the living room.
I look for my keys on the entryway table.
Not there. I walk out the still-open front door and check the Jeep.
They’re inside. Removing them, I quickly lock the front door and slide into the driver’s seat to go back to Brew. To Taya.