Breathe Me (A 'Me' Novel) (7 page)

Chapter 9

Harley

I rolled over in bed, listening and thinking.

Listening, always in a fight-or-flight state, and thinking about a sexy man with steel-gray eyes that reached my soul. I didn’t even remember walking home last night after leaving the sexiest man whom I had only ever read about, and thoughts of him filled up every space of my brain.

Deklan.

Deklan.

His name was like a marathon runner running laps over and over in my head and overpowering all logical thought processes. But I wasn’t stupid. Once he found out how fragile I was on top of being the biggest liar, he would hurt me.

Everyone you let in—loved—hurts you. It was something I had never been able to understand. Was it really supposed to be like that?

I didn’t understand how someone could throw love away so easily like last week’s leftovers and not bat an eye, while others were so desperate for it they would do anything for it. How the people who were supposed to love you hated you and thrived on your pain. How was I supposed to know what love was if no one had ever shown me, loved me? How would I know when it was real? I had my romance novels to compare, and in most of them the guy either started out hating the girl, or was a big asshole to her, and then they had mind-blowing sex, and he confessed his love, or one of them ran then came back and they lived happily ever after. This was what I was yearning hard for, what I would never have.

Love.

I slipped back to sleep and dreamed of being happy, except now there was a certain brooding, sexy male starring in my dreams.

With a smile on my face, I got up to do…well, nothing. It was my off day, and those days were always filled with fear and anxiety because who knew what I would be doing or what I would have to go through on these days.

I straightened up my room and checked on the remaining books I had hidden last night. I couldn’t wait to be able to read again. I dared not read today; it was too soon. Eventually she would forget about her burning what she thought were all my books, but until then it was too risky. After getting dressed and dry swallowing an anxiety pill, I eased out of my room only to be met with silence. Good, she hadn’t gotten up yet.

After cleaning up the bathroom and getting rid of the evidence of last night’s trauma, I made myself breakfast and then flopped down on the couch to watch some mindless television. I was deep into a trashy talk show and the people on stage were about to have an all-out brawl when I heard her stir in her bedroom. I froze, my heart going to my throat, causing my breath to catch. I stared at the people being broken up by the security team on TV and wished I had a personal security team. Someone who would stop her or at least push me to stop her.

Or to leave.

Her door opened, and she spent a few moments in the bathroom before coming out dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her normal attire. The house we lived in once belonged to my grandmother, whom I had never met before she died and left everything to my mother. My mother proclaimed, “I’m handicapped” and got a check from the government every month to be able to afford the bills, until she started taking my checks.

After pouring herself a glass of milk, she walked into the living room and sat down on the couch next to me. I tensed up, hoping she couldn’t sense my fear, and ignored the pain in my achy back. She loved that shit, knowing she was the cause of any reaction from me. We sat for a few minutes, her laughing at the show and me sweating so hard I felt the moisture under my arms.

“Those people are stupid.” She pointed to the TV. “There is no way in hell I would go on national TV and admit how much of a whore I am, or that I don’t know what my sexual identity is. They are losers.” She laughed as if she pitied them. That was the thing about my mother—she always saw herself better than most people, even though she would never admit in a million centuries that she was below them.

“What’s with you? You’re so quiet today.” She eyed me.

Breathe, act normal.

“Nothing, just tired, I suppose,” I replied in a meek voice I couldn’t help. I hated that I gave her the satisfaction of knowing I was scared of her.

“Tired of what? It ain’t like you work hard at a stupid bookstore.” She sneered, and I fought hard not to correct her grammar.

Life, I was tired of life, I thought, but instead, I just shrugged my shoulders, and that was good enough of a reply for her. But I really was tired, of being lonely and feeling stuck and pretending. Damn, I was tired of pretending. There was a part of me, a rather big part, that was small, weak, and vulnerable and just wanted someone to love me. Wanted to have a mother who didn’t look at me with such hatred and disgust, to be loved. That part, that longing, was what I hid because that part made her stand up and cheer and made me want to give up.

And it always showed around her.

Some days I wished I could show someone the real me, the fragile dreamer destined to live a lifeless life. But instead, the only person I talked to when I was off was my mother. Ember had long since stopped trying to get me out of the house on my days off because I’d finally told her that my days off were for “family time,” and she left me alone. Family time, what a fucking joke.

I hated making small talk with my mother. When I was young, I learned that small talk usually resulted in me saying something to piss her off, and that meant getting my ass beat. No, it was better for me not to say much. We watched TV silently for a few hours, and I relaxed a little. If she was going to strike, she would have done it by now. She started cleaning after there was nothing else good on TV, and I helped. She liked when she didn’t have to ask me to do things. After an hour of cleaning, my back felt like it was on fire, and after taking a shower, I went to take a nap.

I awoke to laughter from somewhere in the house. Sitting up, I rubbed the sleep from eyes and checked the time: after midnight. That could mean only one thing. Creeping over to the door, I cracked it and listened.

“I didn’t think you’d actually call me back,” I heard my mom say in a strange, almost flirtatious voice.

“Well, the way you sucked my dick that last time, I wanted more. What could I say?” said a greasy male voice that instantly made me recoil. Gross.

I closed my door quickly and threw on some shoes. If she had a man over, she wouldn’t pay any attention to me. I learned to stay hidden on these nights.

I slipped out my window and started walking to nowhere since it was a nice night. The sky was clear and shone bright with the new moon. I walked for a few minutes, secretly hoping to run into a certain brooding male, but he didn’t look like the type to just walk around. I walked past an all-night diner and realized I hadn’t eaten since this morning. I slowed my walk and savored the smell of hamburgers and fried food. I didn’t have any money and was starving. I read this book once about losing weight. It had said to try and visualize yourself eating what you crave, and that way you wouldn’t be hungry for it. Food was mind over matter. You were not really hungry; your mind just thought it was. So that was what I was thinking about until I could get home and eat something, if the coast was clear. I closed my eyes and let the smells take over me. I imagined I was eating meatloaf with green beans and savoring every bite.

“Harley?”

Fuck my life a thousand times over. This could not be happening. What are the odds that I’d run into him not only two nights in a row, but also doing the most craziest-looking thing, standing next to a diner with my eyes closed, clearly looking like poor Orphan Annie.

I tried to pretend that I hadn’t heard Deklan walk up to me. I even tried to squint out of one eye, hoping he would think I was meditating and leave me alone, but no such luck. He was standing right in front of me, smiling.

Shit, even with my eyes half-open, he was gorgeous.

“What are you doing?” He cocked his head to the side quizzically.

“What are you doing?” I asked defensively. I mean, I couldn’t really admit to him how pathetic I was. I was sure he would find out soon enough.

Smirking that damn sexy smirk, he replied, “I asked you first, but it’s cool. I like to go first. I was just grabbing a quick bite before heading back to my hotel. Your turn.”

“I…ah…I was just trying to remember if I had my cellphone with me.” I turned away so he wouldn’t see the lie in my eyes.

“Wrong, you were standing here on the sidewalk smelling the food.”

My head whipped back around at him. Did I have a sign on me? How did he know that?

“Relax, I know the look. Want to go grab a bite?” He jutted his head toward the diner.

“Didn’t you just eat?” I was hungry, but the thought of sitting with him, in public, was…intimidating.

“Darling, I could eat all day for you.” His eyes slowly perused down my body, making me officially aroused.

“I’m sure I would let you.” Wait, did I just say that out loud? What the hell was wrong with me?

“Really now. How about we test that theory?”

“What?” I asked, shocked. I mean, I guess I was flirting with him, but did he really think I would just go and sleep with him? Had Ember and Matt told him more about me? Did he just want his turn on the Slut Train Express? Last night was a testament to how big of a slut pillow I was. As far as he probably thought, I laid with anyone. Shame immediately hit me. How could I ever think that someone like him would ever be interested in someone like me—the real me?

“Look, that came out wrong. I’m sorry, I have to go.” I started to walk, but he blocked my path.

“What did I do? I was just kidding, I swear.”

“It doesn’t matter because I’m not going to sleep with you.” I needed to leave before I let the hurt overtake me.

“Whoa, hold up. First, I don’t ‘sleep’ with anyone. I smash then leave, and I don’t apologize for it. Second, who said anything about that now? I asked if I could take you for a bite to eat. That’s all,” he said. “For now.” He smirked.

“Dinner? That’s all?” I asked skeptically, still standing dangerously close to him. I chose not to tackle the “smash” remark. Sheesh.

“Like I said, for now.”

“For now? You’re so sure you’re going to get me in your bed for another notch on your bedpost? Think again.”

“A notch on my bedpost? Who the fuck even says shit like that? I told you we are going to happen. Stop fighting it, Harley. I know you’re attracted to me.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Your body gives you away every fucking time.”

I silently cursed my body for this moment and all the moments in the past. My nipples instantly hardened when his breath brushed my ear. He leaned back and looked down at my chest, smirking as if his point was made.

Overconfident bastard.

“It’s been cold,” I said, casually crossing my arms over my chest.

“Sure it has,” he said, giving me a shit-eating grin.

“I have anemia. I’m always cold,” I shot back. I wished my reaction to him could be explained away by a medical condition. That would be too easy though, and my life was anything but.

“Look, just let me buy you dinner. I promise I’ll be on my A-game and then take you home. Scout’s honor.” He held up three fingers like he was pledging to me, which I guess he was.

I simply nodded because I didn’t think I could do or say anything else without looking stupid. He held the door open for me, and my stomach clenched with the aroma. I was starving. He took the lead once inside and led us to a back booth. I slid in across from him and put my hands in my lap because I didn’t know what to do with them. My silly brain kept thinking this was a date, when logically I knew it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

“So, Har, tell me your biggest dream.” He smiled at me expectantly.

I looked in his eyes, and at that moment I wanted to do anything he asked me. Those steel eyes threw me. I wanted to tell him everything but knew I couldn’t.

This was going to be a long dinner.

Chapter 10

Deklan

My night just got much more interesting.

After the shittastic night I’d had, all I wanted to do was find some willing bitch or two and sink in.

Matty had finally caught up to me at my crappy-ass hotel, and after a verbal bitching about how not to fuck up when big brother is trying to close a deal, I gave in and followed him out to go see Mom while she as awake. I drove my baby. Choosing to ride in separate cars would send a message that I could dip the fuck out at any time. That’s just the way I liked it.

I pulled up and saw the Lincoln parked in its normal spot, in pristine condition as always. I thought about taking my keys and keying the shit out of the side of the shiny white eyesore. My old man lived and breathed that old-ass car, and it would probably send him to an early grave if anything happened to it. Growing up, I knew that touching the Lincoln meant death. Immediately. I had always wanted to touch it and see if the old man would really lose his shit and kill me. Me, not Matt, because Matty was the star child and could do no wrong.

I was the fuckup.

“You gonna just stand there and stare at Dad’s car all day, or are you going to come say something to our dying mother?” My brother’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I cut my eyes at him but didn’t say anything. My shoulder check when I passed him said it all. Bitch.

I walked in and went straight to where Mom was, nodding my greeting to her nurse.

“You were already here,” my brother stated when he realized I knew my mother wasn’t in her room but in the study, which was bigger and had been converted to a room for her. Nothing got by this crackpot detective.

“Yup” was all the explanation I gave, then I silently walked over to the bed were my pale and fragile mother was resting. Her eyes fluttered at the shadow I cast over her face, and she slowly opened her eyes.

“They say…they say that your senses sharpen when…when you…when it’s your time,” she wheezed out. She was getting oxygen through a nasal tube that wrapped around her ears and went to her nose, but from what I could see, it wasn’t doing shit for her breathing. She still struggled to catch her breath.

Shit sucked to witness.