Chapter 38
RIGGS
It took everything I have to let her go.
As soon as Gem started moving away from me, I wanted to grab her.
Stop her from leaving. Tell her I’m sorry.
Beg her to forgive me. Instead, I dug my boots into the ground and watched her stumble through the trees and up the slope to disappear into her grandfather’s house behind the loud bang of the screen door.
As soon as she’s gone the gravity of what I just did settles on me.
I can pretend to blame Gem all I want. I can blame Colt Montgomery and the fact that him meddling in my very carefully laid plans to keep Gemma home and alone tomorrow night, sent me into a jealous frenzy.
I can even blame his brother for putting the idea of us into her head, damn near a year ago, when he started whatever fucked-up thing he’s got going with her best friend.
I can blame Beck and Reese for pairing off and leaving me without them to hide behind.
I can blame anyone but myself but it won’t do any good.
I’m the one who did this. I’m the one who was selfish.
Took too much. More than than I’m allowed.
My only consolation is that I broke up with Cheyenne before I lost my mind and really fucked things up.
I was at the river party, hanging out, pretending to have a good time when I noticed Colt break away from the crowd like he had every intention of leaving.
Looking at my phone, I saw that it was almost nine-thirty.
Gemma gets off at ten, so I tossed the rest of my beer in the bushes and walked the cup to the trash so I could make my way to the diner.
Gem’s right. I’ve been following her home.
She doesn’t take the river trail. She takes the surface streets instead, hurrying from streetlamp to streetlamp, all the way home.
I reason with myself that I’m keeping my promise.
Beck asked me to look out for her and that’s what I was doing.
Looking out for her. Being a good friend. Keeping my promise.
I get halfway up the slope, a few dozen yards behind Colt, when I hear my name being called.
“Riggs.”
Shit.
Not bothering to stop, I pretend I don’t hear her until she says it again, this time, loud enough to carry.
“Riggs.”
Stopping, I turn around to wait while Cheyenne catches up to me.
“Where are you going?” She asks like I’ve never done this before. Like I’ve never disappeared and stayed gone for an hour or so before turning back up like I never left.
“Home,” I lie smoothly, probably because I don’t care if she believes me or not. “My mom just texted. She needs my help with something—I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll go with you,” she says, her tone telling me smooth or not, she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
“No.” Shaking my head, I started to back away from her. “Stay here. Have a good time. I’ll be?—”
“You’re not going to help your mom,” she says sharply, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re going to walk her home.”
We’ve never talked about Gemma before. Neither one of us has even said her name out loud. As far as I knew, she wasn’t even on Cheyenne’s radar. I was wrong.
“Her?” Playing stupid, I toss a quick look over my shoulder. Colt’s on the sidewalk now, walking toward Main.
Fuck.
“Yeah, her.” Stacking her hands on her hips, Cheyenne glares up at me. “Gemma Pierce.”
I could deny it. Gaslight her. Tell her she’s nuts and that I don’t know what she’s talking about but I don’t.
“She’s Beck’s little sister.” I settle on the truth instead—or the version of the truth I’ve been using to gaslight myself for the past year. “He asked me to watch out for her, so yeah—I’m going to walk her home.”
“Okay.” She gives me a sullen shrug. “If that’s all it is, why can’t I come with you?”
Because if you come with me, you’re going to realize that I’m not walking Gem home. I’m following her. I’ve been following her and that’s an uncomfortable truth I’d rather keep to myself.
“Because I don’t want you to.” I give her an answering shrug. “Just stay here. I’ll be right?—”
“If you leave, it’s over,” she warns me in a haughty tone. “I’m serious, Riggs. If you leave me and go to her?—”
“Okay.” Bobbing my head, I give her a flat smile before taking another step backward. “Then it’s over.”
For a second, all she does is stare at me, mouth hanging open because she didn’t expect me to call her bluff. She’s the sort of girl who isn’t used to losing. “Are you serious?” She screeches at me, her hands dropping away from her hips in disbelief. “Prom is tomorrow. We were supposed to?—”
I haven’t allowed myself to do anything more than kiss her because in the nearly ten months we’ve been together, I haven’t wanted to. I haven’t wanted her. Since the night I walked her home nearly a year ago, I haven’t wanted anyone but Gemma.
“I’m very serious. Have a good time at prom,” I tell her before turning away from her completely. She keeps screeching at me. Keeps calling me back but I don’t listen. I just keep walking, leaving her behind.
When I caught up to Colt, he was exactly where I knew he’d be—waiting outside June’s for Gemma to get off work.
Unlike his brother, I’ve always liked him.
Colt’s a good guy. Decent. Respectful. Never gave Gemma a second look.
When I saw him loitering around outside the diner, waiting for her—the way he smiled at her when she saw him standing there—my feelings about him changed completely.
I watched from a dark, narrow easement between buildings while they talked. I expected him to make a move. Ask her if she wanted to walk back to the party with him. Maybe offer to walk her home so he could try to weasel his way inside.
What I didn’t expect was for him to ask her to prom.
I also didn’t expect her to say yes.
Instead of following them on surface streets, I cut back to the river trail, heading straight for Dent’s house.
When I got there, he was awake, sitting in his recliner, watching TV, while waiting up for Gem.
It didn’t take much convincing for me to get him to turn the television off and head upstairs.
Matter of fact it didn’t take any convincing at all.
In the space of ten minutes I was in the sunroom, waiting for her in the dark like some sort of obsessed weirdo, ready to pounce on her the minute she walked in the door.
And that’s exactly what I did.
Yup. You did that. You dry humped your best friend’s little sister against a goddamned tree until you came all over yourself and then you convinced her that it was all her fucking fault. Left her holding the bag so you didn’t have to feel guilty about what you did.
As soon as I got home, I took a shower. Stripped down and scrubbed myself raw before taking the clothes I wore tonight downstairs to throw them in the washer.
Afterward, I tried to go to sleep. Tried to tell myself it didn’t happen.
That an hour ago, I didn’t have Gemma shoved against a tree while I made her touch herself.
That I wasn’t so rough with her that I ripped her clothes.
That right before she left, she looked like she was on the verge of bursting into tears.
Fuck.
Picking up my phone, I tap out a quick, one word text.
Me: Gem
The read receipt pops up almost instantly. She’s awake but she doesn’t answer.
Me: I’m sorry.
Me: It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. I did. What happened is on me.
Me: I never meant?—
Before I can finish typing the text and hit send, she answers me.
Gem: I told you not to apologize. If you’re sorry that it happened, I’d rather you keep it to yourself because I’m not. I’m not sorry and knowing that you are makes me feel bad.
Reading her text, heart pounding in my chest, she sends another.
Gem: Did you really break up with Cheyenne?
Gem would care about that. She would feel guilty knowing she let things go as far as they did between us while I was with someone else.
Me: Yes
Gem: When?
Me: Before
Gem: Why?
Me: Come on, Gem… you know why.
I watch text bubbles do a line dance below my answer for what feels like forever before her reply pops up.
Gem: I shouldn’t have bit you.
Reading her text, I feel a smile tug at the corners of my mouth.
Me: Again.
Lifting my hand I study the neat, crescent shaped row of puncture marks dug into the side of my hand. Underneath them is another. These are healed, the scars of them faded to a faintly shiny white.
Me: You’ve probably scarred me for life.
Gem: What can I say? You’re a hard learner, Riggs Wheeler.
Me: Are you still going to prom with Colt?
It’s a shitty thing to ask but I ask it anyway.
Gem: Not if you don’t want me to.
Me: I don’t. I don’t want you to go to prom with him.
Gem: Then I won’t.
Staring at my phone, I feel my heart start to pound again, this time in an uneven rhythm that blurs my vision because this feels like the beginning of something. The start of the only thing I’ve ever really wanted and I know it’s too late.
Me: I’m leaving. I joined the Marines. MEPS is the first week in June.
Gem: I remember.
I know she knows. I’m not the only one. Recruiters love small towns like Barrett.
Towns where college funds are scarce and scholarships are hard won.
My family isn’t rich like hers. I don’t have an all-expense paid ticket to some Ivy League university waiting on me and we both know I’m not smart enough for a scholarship.
For me, it’s either the oil fields like our fathers or the military.
Me: I’ll be here for your birthday, okay?
She doesn’t answer me for a long time.
Gem: Okay
Gem: Good night, Riggs.