Authors: Olivia Lynde
"My battery died while I was out.
Baby, this isn't..." He raises his hands, palms-up, in subtle appeal. He
takes two steps toward me, then stops and just looks at me.
I say, "I got an friendly anonymous
text message, so here I am." He jerks as if struck with a high-voltage
electrical rod. "I forwarded it to you; you can read it after you recharge
your phone battery."
"I didn't cheat on you, baby,"
he rasps, his voice darker, deeper than I've ever heard it.
He's looking at me, meeting my gaze
head-on and holding it fast; and Andrea, this room, the whole entire word
outside of us may as well not exist in this moment. There's only the two of us.
And his eyes—blue, raging orbs of emotion, scalding in their intensity—are begging
for my faith.
"Baby, swear to God I didn—"
"I know."
He jerks again, even more powerfully this
time.
"You know?" he whispers and
takes two more steps that bring me into his reach. And his arms extend toward
me... but stop before they touch me. Still afraid of rejection?
"Seth, I doubted you once, five
years ago. Never again, my love." Then, half-certain, half-entreating:
"I know you wouldn't hurt me like this."
His gaze melts to liquid fire with
relief. "No, baby, never." And finally—at last!—his hands curl around
my arms, and everything is all right in the world once more.
Then the light in him shuts off, and he
turns to Andrea with murder in his eyes.
"Are you okay, Seth?" I ask
him half an hour later, in his car.
He's driving too fast. I reach out
slowly and put my hand on him, and his thigh is so corded with tension beneath
my touch that it feels like steel, not living flesh.
After Andrea's revelations, I'm so angry
I can barely sit still. And he's even worse: his fury has really been pushed
into the lethal zone this time. He's gone very quiet since we left the
apartment, and it's as if he has to maintain this titanium-like control on
himself or else erupt with destructive force. But some of what he's feeling
comes through in the way he's pushing the car faster than I've ever seen him do
it before—the greater speed a seeming reflection of the tempest inside him.
"Andrea shares that apartment with
her twin, Luke," he says, in that scary-precise voice he uses when he's
fuming mad, "and he's a friend of mine. We played football together until
he graduated last year. He's now enrolled at a college in Grand Rapids, and if
I'm in the city overnight, I usually crash at his place. On the fucking couch—not
in his sister's bed."
That does clear up some things. "So
last night you crashed at the siblings' apartment, and this morning when you
went out, Andrea grabbed the stuff in your overnight bag and set you up."
My brow is furrowed in reflection. "What I'd like to know is this: she
admitted that Jessica was the mastermind behind the whole thing and that Elle
helped out—and I know why those two would want to break us up—but what was
Andrea's stake in all this?"
There's a short hesitation, then he
shrugs. "Those three were Rockford High's leading witch—or cheer—leaders
before Andrea's graduation. Maybe they missed the good ol' days and got
together to pull a last fucking nasty stunt." His eyes are very scrupulous
in staying focused on the road without even one side-glance at me.
"Or maybe," I say, "just
like with Elle and Jessica, Andrea's personal stake in all this was you."
A charged pause, then he shrugs again.
"Did she come on to you while you
were there?"
His hands clench on the wheel. "I
told her I wasn't interested."
"But she's an old lover of yours?"
"No!" In a raspy voice, he
adds, "We just screwed a few times a year ago." He's still staring
straight ahead, determined not to meet my gaze, it seems. His thigh beneath my
hand feels even more rigid now, and my hand too feels very numb for a second.
You know he has a past, Summer
, my
subconscious whispers. I know, but God, how I hate it! I inhale deeply. At
least I know he's not splitting hairs with the whole non-lover thing: he's
reminding me that I'm his first love. His
only
love. I'm a big girl. I can
deal with his past—I don't like it, but it's worth doing it because I get to
have his future.
"Okay, Seth. We're okay."
"Actually, Sunny," he grits
out, his hands clenching harder on the steering wheel, "I'm
not
okay. You made me leave Andrea in once piece. All right; her brother's a buddy,
and she's stupid and Jessica manipulated her. She's no threat, and I can let
her stupidity slide—barely—because you didn't believe her. But Jessica
—I'm going to
put an end to
her fucking games once and for all."
"Seth, she can't tear us apart
again. Not now." My hand starts to stroke his thigh very gently.
"But she keeps trying, the fucking
bitch! I let her off easy after the stunt she pulled with our letters—"
"You struck her where she hurt the
most."
He scoffs. "That was fucking
nothing, Sunny, compared to what she deserved. Or to what I wanted to do to
her."
"Seth..."
"No, Sunny, I've had it. First the
letters, then the fucking rumors about you she keeps trying to spread in
school—you think I don't know about that?—and now this? She fucking tried to drive
you away from me, Sunny!" His voice is a violent snarl and he's gripping
the steering wheel so hard, I'm afraid he'll shatter it.
"Pull over, Seth."
"Let's just get home."
"Pull over, please, just for five
minutes."
With a sigh, he does as I asked. As soon
as he's stopped the car, I release my seat belt and climb onto his lap,
straddling his thighs. His arms go around me and his palms splay on my lower
back. I put my hands to either side of his neck and look him straight in his
beautiful, furious eyes. I wince at seeing the painful-looking cut on his lip
from so up-close.
"No one can drive me away from you,
Seth. Especially not Jessica." Only maybe/probably social services.
"I'm not letting this one slide,
Sunny!" he growls.
"Fine!" I snap back. "Just
as long as you don't land yourself in prison."
He takes a couple of deep breaths, seems
to bring his fury back in check.
"I won't," he tells me, softer
now. He leans in for a kiss. "I wouldn't do anything that meant losing you,"
he whispers against my open mouth. Then he kisses me, long and sweet, with more
tenderness than I would've thought he's capable of right now.
By the time he releases me, my heart is thumping
feverishly. "Doesn't your lip hurt when you kiss me?" I murmur.
He smiles. "The reward is worth a
little pain. Besides, it's just a shallow cut, nothing as bad as you seem to
think. It'll heal completely by Monday."
"But how did you even acquire a
busted lip? And grazed knuckles?"
It's as if he stops breathing. Then he
shrugs. "I've been sparring."
"Ah. I just thought..." I
break off, confused. "I didn't know what to think, actually. I've never
seen you like this after a sparring session with Klaus. He... I thought you
couldn't be hurt like this."
He sighs. "I can't be, usually. My
training is very good. But I was distracted, so a few punches slipped past my
guard this time."
"You were distracted?" Oh no.
"Because of me?"
He lifts his right hand to my cheek,
stroking me tenderly with the back of his fingers. "It's all right,
Sunny." He gives me a crooked grin. "I still won."
I grin back. "I'm glad to hear
that."
He stares at me, his eyes beginning to
glow, and I'm starting to feel very warm in my position perched upon his lap.
Then suddenly, all that terrible tension and anger infusing his frame flip into
a different kind of passion—one that's scorching hot. His eyes erupt into vivid
flame, his hands on me become more demanding, and I barely manage a deep breath
before his mouth is on me, submerging me in a deluge of desire.
* * *
Late that night, in our bed, in the darkness,
spooned by his body from head to toe, I hear him ask huskily:
"Why didn't you doubt me
today?"
I clasp his right hand that's splayed on
my torso just beneath my breasts and bring it to my mouth, and I kiss his open
palm with something awfully close to reverence. I have it so, so bad for him.
"It came to this question, Seth: whom
do I believe? You, whom I've loved all my life and who said that you've always
loved me too—you, who've never broken a promise to me. Or her, a stranger who
lured me to her apartment so that I would see what she wanted to show me, and
whose entire attitude was dripping venom right from the start. There was no
dilemma for me." His frame curls impossibly tighter around me. "Seth,
I'll always believe
you
."
"Thank you, Sunny." His voice is
raspy with some unimaginably powerful emotion. "You're everything that
matters in my life. I can't lose you again, Sunny."
I turn my head toward him and our eyes
connect in the weak moonlight, and it's as if the whole of reality shifts and
settles, becoming clearer and brighter. His gaze devours me with its boundless
passion and possessiveness.
"You won't lose me," I vow.
"You have my heart forever."
His full lips curl into that beautiful, open
smile that never fails to dazzle me. "Yes," he tells me
affectionately, "I have your heart—in all shapes and forms. Thanks again
for the key fob, Sunny. I'll take good care of your heart."
I smile back. "See that you do,
lover."
* * *
Next Monday, over the general din of the
cafeteria—Seth and I are sitting at the popular table today; Elle, however, is
conspicuously absent—Chelsea leans in to whisper something to me.
"Summer..."
I look at her; she's staring at me
oddly, seeming conflicted.
"What is it, Chelsea?" She's
one of Jessica's old friends, but beyond the cutting glances she used to send
my way the first couple of days after I got together with Seth, she's never
given me trouble. She's not a friend, but neither has she acted like my enemy
until now.
She sighs heavily. "Look, Summer,
I'll just tell you and you decide for yourself what you wanna do about it. Jessica
came up to me as I was heading here and said to tell you that she'll be waiting
for you where you met last time. She has something to show you, and if you care
about Seth, you'll go meet her. That's all."
She gives me another conflicted look,
then shrugs and turns back toward Amelia, with whom she had been chatting
before.
I'm frozen for long moments, thinking, vacillating,
trying to decide...
"Baby?" Seth has taken notice
of my stillness and has turned to me. "Everything's all right?"
I suppress a betraying shudder and look
up. "Yes, Seth. I just need to make a quick run to the bathroom."
His eyebrows draw together in suspicion;
of course, he's heard something amiss in my voice. I have to hurry if I want to
make it out of here.
I jump to my feet, lean in to place a
swift smooch on his cheek. "Be right back, lover."
And before he can say another word, I
stride away.
* * *
She's waiting for me, her eyes narrowing
to snake-like slits as soon as I enter the bathroom. There's only the two of us
inside.
"What do you want?" I ask her
coldly.
She smiles cruelly. "Oh, nothing
much. Just for you to get the hell out of Rockford and out of Seth's life and
never see him again."
"Then you've gone completely insane."
I turn on my heels and reach for the door.
"If you don't do it, I'll destroy
his life." There's something in her words, a note of satisfaction, that
makes me hesitate. Makes me doubt that she's just making empty threats.
"Bye, bye scholarship," she
adds chirpily. "Bye, bye college; bye, bye football and a future career in
the NFL—'cause that's what he wants, right? And hello a lifetime of being just
a grubby, under-paid mechanic at Joe's—once he gets out of prison, that is. But
at least he'll have you, right?"
I turn back to her. "What do you
have?" I ask quietly, my heart beating so fast it's speed-racing.
Her gray eyes turn radiant with—swear to
goodness—a diabolical light. That's how it looks to me in that moment as she
pulls out her Smartphone, taps a couple of times on the screen, and turns it to
me so that I can see. And dear merciful God, it's a video of Seth—marked with last
Saturday's date, hour 4 A.M.
An insidious, devastating trembling
suffuses my muscles, my very bones, and I grope blindly for the support of the
sink to my right in order to be able to stay upright.