Crashing Souls (27 page)

Dexter had never spoken to me in that tone of voice before. I’d been privy to his frustration, his disappointment, his adoration, even his humor. But never
had
I met the man who was sitting beside me, staring at me with heat and…manliness. Tears subsided and I sat back, nervous to make any sounds.

He started the car and we were on our way. I counted in my head to keep myself from losing my cool again.

One. Two. Three.
I looked over at Dexter who had calmed himself.
Four. Five.
I stared at him again.
Twenty-two
. I blinked away.
Twenty-three.

When he spoke, I had to hold back the loud sigh I wanted to exhale.

“I’m not good at this, Noa. I don’t know how to fix this.” He tapped the steering wheel, and I watched the pads of his fingers as they connected with each movement. Those hands that had touched and ravished, leaving not a portion of me undiscovered by them. I blushed and turned away. He continued, not noticing.

“I need you to try not to think about this as temporary. I know it’s hard for you, and I know I let you down. I let us down. But in these last years, I’ve grown. You can’t act like we’re both eighteen years old again because we aren’t. I’ve seen life without you. That isn’t what I want.” He glanced at me. “And I don’t think that’s what you want either.”

“Not at all,” I whispered, afraid to be louder. I wasn’t afraid of Dexter. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. But, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out exactly what I was afraid of. Maybe the things I hadn’t yet said. Or maybe the things I’d faced as a result of us. The hardest thing was to realize that there were two sides to this heartbreak. And while Dexter had experienced it with me, he’d come out cleaner. My side carried dirt and blood and grit. But Dexter had no idea. And I couldn’t bring myself to just…
tell
him. I couldn’t face him walking away from me again. We remained quiet the rest of the way, Dexter content to leave me with my thoughts.

He pulled into the familiar neighborhood, and it was a slap from the past. The houses were the same,
the
grass covered in snow and children outside playing. We parked the van outside of the one that reminded me of our adolescent love. I stared at it, unable to stop the smile from spreading.

“Am I allowed out of the car?” I asked, trying to sound flippant. I was still nervous to see Tracey. But I figured if Dexter said she was expecting us, we’d better get inside. I didn’t want to keep her waiting and it was freezing.

Dexter just laughed and opened his door. We were definitely an odd pair. Between my outbursts and his quirky understanding, we’d be suffering emotional whiplash. He handed me my carry-on with a kiss on my forehead, reminding me of us before the wreckage.

The front door opened and Tracey was on the doorstep with her arms open wide.

“Noa Cruz, get your fancy artist ass up here and hug me!”

I should’ve known. I hooted and jogged up, careful of the slush and ice and hugged her. She laughed into my neck, and when I pulled back, I saw her wiping her tears.

“You’re finally home.” She ran her hand down my hair and turned at the sound of a child’s laughter and a dog barking. “Come meet the family.”

I looked at her in shock. Her face had a few more lines, but she was still as beautiful as ever with brown hair that shone like the commercials and green eyes that saw everything.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she said, leading me inside. “I got married and had a kid. Was I that hopeless?”

I grabbed her again, hugging her tight.

“No, no. It’s…your dreams came true. I know it’s what you’ve always wanted. I’m only sad that I missed so much.”

She stepped back and shook her head.

“
We always knew you’d come back. You couldn’t stay away forever. And you needed that time. Besides,” she led me into the living room, “time is nothing when it comes to love.” I looked down at the child wrestling the pit bull in front of us. I might’ve feared for the boy if the dog wasn’t licking his face excitedly.

“This is Sam,” Tracey said, her eyes on him with a lightness I could only envy. A mother and her child. “Pardon Buster. He’s Sam’s best friend.”

The boy got up and patted Buster on his head before turning to us. Brown hair and fair skin, teeth missing and a cut on his forehead. By the looks of it, it was a few days old.

“My Sam, he’s an adventurous one. Sam, this is Noa.”

I looked around for Dexter, only to see him leaning against the wall, watching our interaction.

Sam held out his hand and I took it. He looked about five.

“Hi, Noa. They say your name in Sunday school sometimes. Except you’re a boy.”

I sputtered out a laugh. He was exceptional.

“Well, Sam, I’m honored to have been mentioned in Sunday school. Don’t worry. I left the animals at home.” When he frowned in confusion, Tracey took his hand.

“Let’s get you washed up for dinner, baby. Dex, your room is ready. Dinner will be on the table in fifteen, and Ralph is on his way with Nina.” She said all of this while heading up the steps.

“Where’s Dan?” Dex asked, still looking at me.

“In the den, kid,” a male voice answered, and I could hear Sam repeating Dan’s name over and over while Tracey laughed.

“Come meet Dan.” Dex led me to the den and I looked around, hardly having spent time in there before. There was a man sitting on a love seat. When we came
in,
he set down his book. “Dan, this is Noa. Noa, Tracey’s husband and Sam’s father, Dan.”

I offered my hand but he came in for a hug, and I was intimidated by his massiveness. I’d thought Ralph was a large guy, but Dan put him to shame.

“The famous Noa. You’re as beautiful as Dex said. More so, I think. Women have always been like wine, haven’t they?” He winked at me, and I looked over at the book he’d been reading. His eyes traveled to where mine looked and he smiled. “I’ve joined the local book club. Most of the participants are women. Have you read this one?” He held up the book, and I shook my head.

“I haven’t gotten to that one yet. It’s a bit steamy for my taste. But I’m sure I’ll be forced to at some point. Especially since they’re making it into a movie, I heard.” Dexter put his arm around my waist and I leaned into him, finally comfortable. I could talk about books all day.

“Yes, well, it’s always a tragedy when they do that. I encourage you to give it a read. It’ll make this young man very happy.”

Dexter took his hands from me and ran his hands over his face like he did when he was nervous. “Too much, Dan. Too much. Besides,” he looked at me with a gleam in his eyes, “I am happy.”

Dexter led me away, up the stairs with our things. We entered his room and I exhaled, taking it in. Not much had changed. The sheets and his computer were no longer there. Other than that, I was in a time machine. When I looked at Dexter, I expected to see that bun and the scruff on his chin. But the man in the suit before me made my mouth water with only a look.

“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly.

“How I want to open up that head and feel what you’re feeling,” I said slowly.

His steps were even slower and I gulped, licking my lips.

“
I’m feeling exactly what you’re feeling,” he told me, placing my hand over his heart and putting his hand over mine. They both thrummed to their own beat erratically. “But what I’m wondering is how much time I have left before we’re supposed to be downstairs,” he whispered. I almost fainted. I gathered my wits, licking my lips again.

“Maybe six minutes.”

“More than I had a month ago.” His hands tugged at my pants while I reached for his zipper. Lips met with that passion that made my heart beat even faster.

Dexter was absolutely the master of my life. He was the puppeteer, the ring leader. He took those six minutes and brought me to heaven, shattering the ceiling and giving me complete bliss. I thought, as he covered me in sweet kisses, rubbing his stubble against my hot skin, that while being drunk gave me that haze of ignorance, sex gave me the high of forgetting everything but us. Dexter could make me forget everything. And that was a dangerous game.

Chapter
29

W
e walked downstairs, our hands together, palms pressed into each other like they used to be. When I turned toward the kitchen, I heard boisterous laughter that could only belong to….

“Noa!” Heavy steps filled the house, and I was lifted into the air. We spun a few revolutions before Ralph set me down on unsteady feet. I looked up at him and laughed. Finally, the face that had been too much for a teenager fit him. He’d always been handsome. But in that brawny way that made you think he’d look great in flannel. His strawberry blonde hair was thinning already, but he was still a handsome devil.

“How are you?” I asked, a little breathless.

He pinched a piece of hair, giving it a tug.

“I miss the blue. But you look happy with the brown, so I guess it’s all right.” Leave it to Ralph to completely ignore the niceties. “Come meet Nina. I’ve only been talking her ear off about you since Dex rang saying he’d finally found you.”

We walked into the kitchen and the small blonde standing next to Tracey with a glass of wine in hand turned to me, a smile as pretty as she was at the ready.

“Nice to finally meet you, Noa.” She shook my hand and leaned in. “So sorry for your loss.”

Instant mood killer.

I’d been enjoying all of these people and laughing while Tim was dead. Tracey read the reaction on my face and ushered everyone toward the table to eat.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “We’ll handle it all as it comes.” She pursed her lips before bringing food toward the dining room table. I helped, unsure of what
else
to do. The chair next to Dexter was empty, so I sat there. He clasped my hand beneath the table, and I let myself lean on him emotionally. It was scary, sure. But it felt so right. Especially to me, the person who’d been alone for too long.

We ate in that loud way a family in love eats. People talking over one another and hands gesturing. Tracey still swatted at Ralph for swearing, and Ralph still called Dexter names.

I noticed the lack of alcoholic beverages at the table. It didn’t bother me. I worried that it bothered everyone else.

“Are you going to see Molly this weekend?” Tracey asked. Ralph wiped his mouth and peered over at Dexter.

“Sure. I was actually thinking of going with Noa. I think she’d get a kick out of meeting her,” he said before taking a sip of water.

“Mind if I tag along? It’s been a year since my last visit. Want to make sure Greg Sr. is still taking care of her,” Ralph piped up.

I looked down the table in confusion.

“I thought you didn’t remember him. When we were at the lake house…you didn’t remember him.” I thought back to that moment when Dexter’s eyes looked over the picture without an ounce of recognition. It made me internally question Ralph because the three of them had been so close. I would’ve thought Ralph would have at least told Dexter about Greg. And, after all, it was the accident between those two friends that landed Dexter with amnesia. But I didn’t say anything. Because when I saw the picture, I felt my own internal questioning. There was something missing. Something about his picture made me sad and I’d hardly known Greg. But it felt like I had.

“Long story,” Dexter supplied. “But I ended up remembering him.”

“
Anything else?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. Just him.”

There was a lull at the table and Ralph lifted his glass.

“Merry Christmas, Greg.” Everyone followed suit, and I held my glass of water with shaking hands.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered. All of the lights dimmed, and in my ear, I heard a young man’s voice.
I love you.
I blinked, the lights coming back to me. Dexter frowned as he examined me.

“Everything okay?”

“Sure, yeah. Sometimes I space out. It’s fine.” I didn’t want to worry him. Over the years, that voice came and went. At first, I was worried. But when I was thinking of Dexter, it was sure to happen. I was imagining the words, but even as I heard them, I knew it wasn’t Dexter saying them. And yet, no one had ever told me they loved me other than him. Not even Tim.

Tracey stood and began clearing the table. We all got up and helped. When the table was cleaned, Dexter pulled me off to the side.

“Did you want to see your mother? I called down to police headquarters, and you’ll need to identify your brother. I figured it would be better for you if we waited for that.”

“No, no. I, uh, I’ll identify Tim.” I moved past him toward the stairs and then walked back to him. “Could you come with me? I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“I’d ask the same of you.”

I looked at him. This time, I wanted to say exactly what I was thinking.

“It’s almost sickening, how great you are all the time. I’m torn between wanting to lick you and wanting to kick you.”

He laughed for so long that I looked around at everyone, smiling at their idiotic grins.

“
There you are,” he said as he kissed my cheek sloppily. “I knew you were in there, Blue.”

I was. I just had to let myself
be
myself.

•••

Identifying Tim was difficult. A lot of him was unrecognizable. It was the tattoo on his bicep that ended up being the confirmation for me.

Tim had suffered in life and in death and I cried for him. I didn’t even try to hide my face as I ugly cried because Tim deserved all of the ugly, sloppy tears I could give. A man no one knew. A man who wouldn’t live a full life, wouldn’t have children, wouldn’t change the world.

Dexter stood back the entire time, in that quiet way of his. I always knew he was there; it was impossible to share a space with him and not acknowledge the fact that we were existing together. When it was time to leave the police station, the officer on the case insisting I visit the hospital, Dexter wrapped me in his arms as we braved the snow to reach the rental.

Once inside, he asked me where I wanted to go next.