Chapter 20
TWENTY
JESSICA
Over the following week, Mom’s condition remains critical but stable. She hasn’t regained consciousness, and the doctor warned us that she probably never will. It’s a waiting game now.
To think I might never hear her voice again or see her smile hurts too much to even think about. Grief waits around the corner, like a shadow I can’t outrun.
That’s why I agreed to meet Kane this afternoon, even though it’s a bad idea.
I’m not in a good place right now. Meanwhile, he’s been nothing but sweet and patient, even when he didn’t have to be. He could have dropped my ass and gone back to his sparkly life in the Heights. But he’s still here for some reason, blowing up my phone every morning and night.
The truth is, he deserves better than a grieving girl from the Falls who wants to escape reality for a while. But I still can’t bring myself to do the right thing and leave him alone because I’m selfish.
So I take.
I take what he offers because it eases the ache, even if it’s only for a few hours while he fucks me in every position possible.
In those moments, when he’s buried deep and has me pinned beneath him, there’s no room to think about the uncertain future or all the reasons I have to feel sad. It’s just him, that thick cock between his legs, and mindless pleasure.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t outrun myself. The heartache is like water boiling in a pan. It doesn’t matter how hard you press down on the lid. It’s only a matter of time before it boils over and makes a big mess. I don’t want Kane to have to clean it up.
We pull up to the starting line at Dark Lanes. It’s late afternoon, and the sun is setting. No one else is here at this hour. It’s just us.
I take in the scene. The place looks different in daylight, without the large crowds, buzzing energy, and thumping bass.
The sun is sliding toward the horizon, casting long lines of light across the abandoned train tracks to our right.
On the other side, the warehouse sits quiet and square behind the fence.
Kane unbuckles his seatbelt. I follow suit, and we sit in silence for a moment, bathed in the dying orange light. I wonder how many more of these sunsets I’ll see before Mom is gone forever. I also wonder how many of these breathtaking sunsets I’ve taken for granted over the years.
“I’ve always wanted to come here.” My words waver, barely steady. Kane listens, his large hands resting on his thighs, his eyes on the sunset.
“My brother would never let me.”
“Do you always do what your brother says?” The rumble of his voice reminds me of the deep orange glow outside. Warm. Comforting.
My mouth pulls into a small, reluctant smile as our eyes meet. “Obviously not.”
He knows me better than that by now.
His lips quirk. My cheeks heat under that intense gaze. “Why did you stay away?”
I turn my face toward the track again, the sun warming my cheeks through the windshield. The sky is a vivid blend of oranges, pinks, and purples.
“I don’t know.”
It seems crazy to me now.
“I wasn’t interested in watching men race cars, I guess.”
“You would have seen me if you’d been there,” he says in a teasing tone that does something weird to my heart. “And you would have gotten wet.”
I give him a playful shove, unable to dim my smile. Why even try? He lightens the dark with that glint in his eye and a panty-dropping smile.
“I would’ve had to watch you with other girls, Kane.”
Just the thought of it makes me wonder if I’m a girl’s girl, after all?
His smile grows. “Is my little thief jealous?”
I scoff, shaking my head as he beams like he’s won a prize. Me? Jealous? Never.
“I’m not jealous.”
“No?” He grins, his lip trapped between his teeth.
It’s a deadly combo because it puts his deep dimples on full display. I hate those dimples a little. Okay, fine, a lot. Why? Because they make my ovaries perk up.
I flip him off. He laughs, low and free, and the sound sends a slow heat curling through me.
He’s so beautiful it’s hard to fathom why he’s here with me. I have no makeup on, and my hoodie features the masked killer from the Scream franchise. He’s got heart eyes. The pink text beside it reads, ‘No, you hang up first.’
I’m not exactly Heights material, to be honest, but Kane doesn’t seem to care at all. He’s smiling at me, and I like how it feels to have his attention. A lot of women would kill to be in my position.
The thought sobers me. How long until Kane gets bored and moves on? How long until he realizes he can do better?
“Did your friends never drag you here?” he asks. “That girl, Rain, seems like the adventurous type.”
My smile turns coy. “I’m not saying I’ve never been.”
His smile returns. “So you have seen me?”
“Perhaps.”
“Did you get wet watching me race?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If I pined for you from the sidelines.”
He makes no secret of his dirty thoughts as he trails his eyes down my body, his gaze turning salacious. “I would have liked that a lot.”
I laugh lightly. “You wouldn’t have noticed me.”
It’s the truth. Kane is so used to attention that he’s blind to it.
I lean in slightly. “You only noticed me because I pulled a gun on you.”
“It was unexpected,” he agrees with a lazy grin.
Heat still clings to the dry air, but the edge of evening slips in cool on my neck as I roll down the window.
The lingering scent of gasoline mingles with hot asphalt and oil.
A torn grocery bag has gotten caught on the fence, its retail branding faded from hours in the sun.
The light breeze flaps it against the metal with a gentle rustle, almost like a pile of dry leaves drifting across the ground in fall.
I love it here. Possibility clings to the air, dreams and ambition lingering long after the roads empty of spectators and racers. It’s so potent, you can almost smell it.
My phone vibrates in my hoodie pocket with a new text.
Chris:
Where are you?
I close the chat without responding. Things back home have been worse than usual.
Chris didn’t return for two nights, and when he finally showed up, we had a huge argument and said things neither of us meant. We haven’t spoken much since.
He’s checking up on me, though, to make sure I don’t stay over at Kane’s. I almost feel like I’m under house arrest in the evenings when his friends pull up in their beat-up cars in our driveway. I’m sure there’s an agreement I’m unaware of.
Operation ‘don’t let Jessica leave the house.’
Urgh.
“Is everything okay?” Kane asks.
I shove my phone into my pocket. “Yeah, it was just my brother checking in on me.”
“Is he still giving you a hard time?” His strained voice makes me glance at him before I refocus on the warehouse to our left.
“He’s worried about me, is all.”
I’m not sure how much I believe that. He’s worried, yes. Mostly, he’s angry with the world and himself, and he’s taking it out on me.
Kane’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel. He’s focusing on his fingers like he has laser vision. “He doesn’t want us together.”
It’s not a question, so I stay quiet, watching him tighten his grip on the expensive leather.
“He’s not a bad guy,” I say quietly. “He’s just trying to protect me.”
Kane huffs a bitter chuckle and lets go of the wheel to rub his lips while gazing at the stretch of blacktop.
For some reason, my brother’s opinion matters to me. Chris can be an asshole, but he’s my family.
If life has taught me anything lately, it’s that it can rip away the people we love the most in a heartbeat. We don’t have forever.
“He’s scared,” I tell Kane, gazing down at my lap so I don’t have to look him in the eye.
“I mean, it makes sense. Our mom is dying. Dad is a deadbeat who never lifts a finger to help. The responsibility for providing for us now falls on Chris. Overnight, he had to step up despite his own grief and give up his dreams and ambitions.”
I shrug like it’s no big deal, but it is.
It’s so unfair that he had to sacrifice so much of himself to keep us afloat.
“We’re not exactly strapped for cash.”
“I can get him a job—”
“I don’t want your money, Kane.”
My eyes fall shut.
Dammit.
I didn’t mean for it to come out so harshly, but I already owe him too much. He pays for my Mom’s medical treatment, which I haven’t thanked him for yet.
I’m still in the dark, as far as he’s aware. I don’t know how to bring it up. I don’t know anything anymore.
Except for one thing: I can’t ask him for any more favors. I can’t get my family indebted to a Ravencourt. We have survived all these years on our own, like everyone on the north side of Bleakmoor.
I wipe away a stray tear and try to steady my voice. “You know what I hate, Kane?”
He’s silent, but his attention is on me, warming the side of my face.
It feels nice, like the dying sun outside. The shadows are stretching taller, and it won’t be long until it’s dark.
The dark always comes to devour the light, sooner or later.
“I hate that some have so much while others have so little. All my mom ever wanted was for us all to get out of the Falls. She worked hard with whatever little she had to give us a better future, and the pieces fell into place for a while. We all went to college. We had food on the table. We were scraping by, but we were happy.”
The ache presses against my ribs, as if it wants to push through and escape. I can relate because I want to escape, too. Run off into the sunset and never look back.
“But then the cough started. We thought nothing of it at first. After all, the house is drafty in the colder months. The insulation sucks. We thought she had a persistent cold.” A bitter laugh claws its way up my throat, but nothing about this is funny.
You would think pain expresses itself through tears, but have you ever heard pain masquerade as laughter? That edge? That raw, hollow edge? It sharpens my brittle chuckle now, because how could we be so stupid? No one coughs for months on end.
“I found one of the bloodied tissues in the trash can when I was brushing my teeth one night.” My lips taste of salty tears, and I wipe my face with my sleeve. “And that’s when I knew.”
“Baby…”
He doesn’t know what to say. I don’t either.
“Chris is protective of me because he doesn’t trust you.”
Our eyes meet.
“He doesn’t want to see me hurt.”
Kane’s chest rises sharply with a held breath.
“All I’m asking is that you try to understand why he’s acting out.”
His throat works as if he’s swallowing words, then he says, “I get it. I do.”
“You do?”
To say I’m surprised is an understatement.
“If the roles were reversed and your brother was fucking my sister, I’d bury him six feet under. So trust me, I get it.”
I chew my lip, feeling a small smile try to slip out.
Kane watches my mouth. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll let him keep you from me.” His blue eyes lock on mine and darken, not with desire.
Possession.
I duck my head, then glance out the windshield at the last sliver of orange sky in the distance. “Tell me something about you. What are your dreams, Kane? What do you want to do in the future?”
“What are yours?” he deflects.
I decide to humor him. “Well, first things first. I’m gonna race my brother here at Dark Lanes.”
Kane’s eyes flicker with surprise. “Race your brother?”
“I have a problem with authority,” I say with a small shrug and a playful smile.
“I would have never guessed.”
I smack him, thrilled by his answering laughter.
“He’s always forbidden me from coming here, so one day I want to drive up beside him, roll down my window, and wave.”
I show Kane my bratty little wave, and he shakes his head, chuckling, his shoulders shaking.
“He’ll love that.”
Relaxed in his seat, a small smile dimpling his cheeks, he looks at me again.
“After you’ve given your brother an aneurysm, what then? Where is the world taking you?”
My smile dims slightly, not out of sadness, at least not necessarily. The truth is I’ve never let myself think about the future. It’s a given that Summer will escape this town. But me? I don’t know what’s waiting for me.
“I’m not sure.”
“You must have some dreams?”
“Dreams don’t flourish in the Falls.”
“I don’t believe you.” Kane straightens slightly and leans closer. “I can see it in your smile.”
My cheeks heat. His eyes hook mine, daring me to look away. I don’t.
I can’t.
“Maybe your dreams are elusive and rare, like your smiles. But every now and then you glimpse them, don’t you? It’s what keeps you going.”
“Maybe my dream is to stay strong for Summer so she can make it out of here.”
His eyebrows draw together, and he cups my cheek. “No,” he murmurs, the leather seat creaking as he shifts even closer.
“You deserve more than that.” His thick voice whispers over my lips. “So much fucking more.”
And then he kisses me.