From The Wreckage - Complete (37 page)

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Authors: Michele G Miller

BOOK: From The Wreckage - Complete
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“She was just gone. One minute we were going the same way, running for refuge…the next I was alone. I threw myself into a ditch with so many other students and watched as the twister passed by us. I don’t know what happened.” 

She can’t speak. She doesn’t know what to think anymore, but before she can form words, someone taps on the glass next to her head. 

Opening her eyes, she sees West standing there. His face is somber and there’s a soft smile on his lips. She holds a finger up to him and turns back to Carter.

“You…?”

“I shot him a message when you broke down on me the first time.”

School’s out already?
She looks around for the time. She didn’t realize how long they’d been sitting there. She reaches for the door but Carter’s voice stops her.

“Hey, I understand if you hate me now.”

“Hate you? For what, being an idiot? You’re not the first person to resort to name calling when you’re hurt. I don’t hate you, Carter.” She pops the lock and West beats her to the door handle; pulling it open without a word. When she’s halfway out of the car, she turns back to Carter.

“She wouldn’t have hated you, either. You didn’t know her like I did. She was great at flinging insults when she was pissed. She was also smart about it, too. She knew better than to think those words ever actually had meaning.”

“It reminds me of you and Aubrey,” he points out.

She takes the pointed comment to heart. “You’re right. For a couple of almost-eighteen-year olds, we’re all just third graders at heart, huh?” 

He smiles sadly and she thanks him for sharing his story. Carter flashes a wave to West as he helps Jules from the car. He shuts the door behind her and pulls her into his arms as Carter drives off.

 

“You okay?” West asks. His hands work over her hair and back; pressing her face to his chest and comforting her the way only he knows how. Jules hums a small ‘Mmmhmmm’ as she stands in the circle of his arms. 

“Babe?”

“I’m fine, West. I needed to get some closure.”

“Closure?” His warm lips linger on the top of her head before he peels her away. “C’mon.”

They climb into his Jeep. The sun is a brilliant blue with no clouds in sight. The top of the Jeep is off so they can take full advantage of the beautiful early fall weather. They ride through town in silence. His eyes flick towards her several times; his face thoughtful but not speaking. They pull into South Berry Farm and Jules smiles. They haven’t been by here in a few weeks and she’s missed it. West produces a blanket from the back and they walk into the dying crops silently.

“They’ll be clearing the field soon, won’t they?”

“Yeah.”

His answer is short. He seems distant somehow, not angry but irritated by something. He spreads the blanket out in a small path and sinks down to lie on his back. He bends his arm behind his head and squints up into the sun as he looks at Jules standing over him. Lying there stretched out before her, he’s a teenage girl’s paragon of the perfect male specimen. His casual tee lifts up enough to reveal a peek at his hard torso; his dark jeans hanging low on his hips, the band of his boxers teasing her eyes. With his arm spread out next to him like it’s waiting to hold her, it tells you he’s a romantic. While the reckless black hair, the leather bands he wears on his wrist and his scuffed up biker boots warn you he’s still a bit of a rebel. His gaze makes her weak in the knees, and she kneels down beside him and curls up against his side; releasing a long breath as his arm wraps around her.

Jules rests her hand on his smooth stomach; her pinky and ring finger skimming his warm skin. Her palm itches to move lower, to creep up his shirt and touch him fully. His spicy scent fills her head and makes her body tingle and come to life. Every time they are near, he tempts her. Kissing has become less and less fulfilling to her as her acute need for him ratchets up a notch. Over the past few weeks, she’s realized she and Stuart lacked this passion. Two years with him and he never made her feel this way. Lust is one thing; this is
need
.

“You’ve been lying to me.”

Jules freezes.

“You said you were fine. You told me the nightmares were gone. You lied.”

She closes her eyes and bites her lip at his accusation.

“One moment I’m lying in his arms, contemplating how much I want him, and the next I’m drowning. Seriously, my breath just stopped at his disgruntled observation.” Her hands rub together; just the memory making her nerves twitchy.

“I thought I’d perfected my acting skills over those few weeks. At school I was a model student. I answered questions, took notes, aced tests. I walked through the halls smiling at everyone, holding my head high when I passed Aubrey and her minions or a few of the girls who seemed to covet my boyfriend.

“However, as I said, I was perfecting my acting skills. Because no matter how hard I tried to pretend things were normal, they weren’t. My dreams weren’t letting up and the guilt festered and tore at my soul.

“West would ask me how I was, and — he’s right — I would lie to him.”

She looks down at her lap and keeps her eyes hooded as she peeks up at the camera. “My parents would try to talk to me about things and I would lie. Katie, Carter and even Jess would say something about Tanya or the twister and I would just nod and smile, give my two cents, but never let them know how much it still hurt.

“Apparently, West wasn’t fooled.”

Jules falters. ”No. I haven’t-” 

“Don’t play me like I’m stupid,” West cautions; dropping his arm from her back. “You left school with Carter ‘to find closure’, without telling me.”

He makes air quotes around ‘to find closure’ and she sits up; resentment flaring to life within her. “So I’m supposed to tell you my every move?”

West scoffs at her misplaced ire. “Knock off the hurt look, babe. I’m not a hunter who killed your mother. I thought we were supposed to be honest with each other.”

She shakes her head at his ‘Bambi’ reference and he sits up and rises to his feet. She follows him, thoroughly confused at his anger.

“Why are you mad at me?”

Again, he scoffs. “I’m not mad at you. I’m hurt, I’m lost, I’m sad and I’m worried about you…but I’m not mad at you.”

“I don’t…I just wanted to talk to him about Tanya.”

“You think I don’t understand that? I know you feel guilty, babe. Have you still been having nightmares?”

She tries to deny it but he’s too perceptive. Somehow he knows her face as well as she does, and he spots her tell before she can cover it.

“Why? Why do you keep it all to yourself? I’m here for you.”

“It’s not your guilt to be bothered with,” she admits her feelings freely now. 

West spins on her, his nostrils flare and his chest puffs up in anger. “Not my guilt? I shouldn't be bothered?" he repeats. "What the hell is that? Are you done with me now, cheerleader? Are we over?”

“What! No!” she shouts back, matching his angry tone word for word.

“Don’t you dare tell me not to be bothered with your feelings. You're not pushing me away like that.”

“Oh my God.” She throws her hands in the air, exasperated. “I’m not trying to push you away.”

“No?” he drawls.

“No!”

“Then let me in,” he prods and Jules turns her head. He takes three quick strides towards her; grabbing her arms and jerking her attention back to him. “Let me in on this. I was there with you; I remember the feeling too.”

Her shoulders sink and all of her misplaced anger diffuses as she drowns in his warm brown eyes. Jules lowers her forehead to his chest and mumbles, “I just can’t seem to let go.”

“You blame yourself when
I’m
the one who pulled you away.” 

“No…”

“Yes, Jules. Go back to that night in your memory.” 

Jules thinks back to that night. When they realized it was a tornado heading their way, Katie moved into action; yelling at Jules and clasping her hand tightly. 

“Come on! Let’s go!” 

In a panic, Jules moves to follow her when a hand wraps around her other arm. She whips around to find West’s silhouette; his head shaking vigorously. 

“No! We need to find a safe shelter. You can’t outrun a tornado!” he shouts and tugs her the opposite way.

She looks over the scene before them; taking in all of the other patrons at the Shack, the other teens who scatter like ants at a picnic, by foot or car. She vividly recalls the deep rumbling sound beginning to fill the night air. At that moment she makes a decision and tugs at Katie, shouting for her to follow. 

“Come on!” West pulls her arm again and Jules follows and drags Katie behind her. 

“Tanya!” Katie shouts. “Jeff!” Jules doesn’t let up and she doesn’t look back. She makes the choice to follow West.

“I followed you. I followed you and didn’t even call out for Tanya,” she admits; her voice soft, broken.

“Jules, Katie called out for her. But it doesn’t matter; she couldn’t have heard you anyway. I saw it in your eyes, I knew how torn you were, but I didn’t give you a choice. I never would have let you go that night. If you have to blame someone for her death, blame me.” His grip tightens as his voice pleads with her. “Be mad at me — hate
me
— but stop tearing yourself up over this.”

Tears prick her lids and she shakes her head wildly, refusing to do what he asks of her. “I can’t hate you. You saved me; how could I blame you?”

He tangles his fingers into the back of her hair and grips the back of her neck the way he does whenever he kisses her passionately. “You blame yourself so easily, but you refuse to blame me?” He brushes a tear from her lower lashes with his thumb and dips his head low, holding her gaze. “How can you not?” 

The question brings a ghost of a smile to her mouth. Cupping his face in her hands, she focuses on his brown eyes. Ever so slowly, purposefully, she allows herself to tell him what she’s wanted to tell him for weeks. “Because I love you.”

West’s lips part slightly and the sound of his indrawn breath, along with the rush of his long exhale assaults her as he leans his forehead against hers and closes his eyes. She doesn’t know what she expected him to say or do after hearing her revelation, but it isn’t this. His face is a mask of both pain and triumph, worry and exaltation. It’s the epitome of the classic comedy/tragedy masks from theater, and it’s all written on the face of the guy she just admitted her love to.

Easing back as if her hands are suddenly burned by his skin, she lets go of his head and wraps her arms around herself. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…I don’t guess-” 

She doesn’t know what to say or if she should apologize.
Apologize? For loving him?
she thinks incredulously. She rubs her arms and squeezes herself tighter, once again trying to keep herself from ripping in two.

West’s eyes snap open and his face pales as he takes in her face, her stance. Her heart stops when he speaks. “Oh…oh God, no Jules,” he babbles. “Babe, no…I can’t believe, I…hell.” His fingers yank at his hair before he takes her hand and pulls her to the ground again. 

“You love me?” he asks, disbelieving.

“I…” She hesitates, scared of seeing refusal on his face again.

He smiles and his finger comes up to touch her lips softly. “Oh, no you don’t,” he teases. Her heart jolts into action again at the crooked grin he levels on her. “I heard you — you said you love me.”

Her jaw drops. “Yeah, and you looked like someone murdered your puppy when I did.”

“Did I?”

He shakes his head and Jules draws herself into a ball, putting space between them, and West inches after her to close the space. “Are you joking right now, West? Because I’m pretty sure that’s the worst reaction to the phrase ‘I love you’ I’ve ever seen.” 

“Babe, I’m so sorry. It’s not that you said it…I just, I’m so bad at this part.” He leans forward and Jules realizes he is an emotional mess.

She remembers back to the day she first told him she cared for him, and the way he flipped out so suddenly when she admitted she broke up with Stuart for him. He was stubborn, and it took Katie eavesdropping on a conversation he had with Jeff for her to figure out he was scared of screwing things up. He thought she had the perfect guy already. He didn’t trust himself.

Sliding back to his side, Jules dips her head down to see his face in his hands. “West?”

“I’m not good at this relationship-thing. I don’t want to screw this up.”

She lets out a small laugh. “Why do you keep saying that? You’ve been worried about screwing things up with us from day one. Do you not see how perfect you are, West Rutledge? You and me, we’re working just fine.”

“Are we? Do I make you happy?” he asks as he sits back and straddles her legs. Inching close to her face, he cups her cheeks. “Because you are the best thing I’ve known in a long time. I can’t even explain how I feel for you. When my mom passed, it sucked the life out of me. You’ve brought it back. It shouldn’t have happened…we’re teenagers, we’re still in school, we’re young and stupid…but I swear to God, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this —
us
— to work.”

Jules draws an unsteady breath and pulls West to her face. Their lips are so close, every feathery breath of air he takes touches her skin. “Never doubt how perfect you are. Yes, you make me happy.” She kisses him quickly and says into his warm mouth, “Extremely happy.”

His lips part beneath hers, making Jules gasp when his tongue darts out, brushes her bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth. He sweeps the hair away from her face and tips her neck back to kiss it softly. A soft moan escapes her when his tongue traces a warm path along her jaw and back to her lips. He whispers hot words as their lips tangle; shooting rods of fire through her entire body. “I’m not perfect by any means, baby, but I’m perfect for you,” he murmurs.

All thoughts of West not responding to her proclamation of love are lost as his hands and mouth devour her. Careful not to go too far with her, West’s fingers tease the skin along the small of her back. His thumbs tickle her ribs and move up to skim the sensitive skin below her bra, but nothing further.

When she sits in his lap and tugs restlessly at the hem of his shirt as they continue to kiss, West groans and pulls her against his shoulder to hug her. 

“We need to stop,” he begs breathlessly.

It’s on the tip of her tongue to say she doesn’t want to, but her overheated senses register where they are and her cheeks flush pink. “Let’s stay in tonight,” she suggests, well aware of the innuendo.

She feels the shake of his head above her own as he speaks. “I really think we should go out.”

“And
I
think…” Her fingers slip under his shirt and she runs her hand over his back muscles. They leap at her light touch and she smiles a devilish smile. “We should stay in, alone. At your place.”

“Babe…”

“Babe.” Jules tips her head back and looks longingly into his face. His hair is messy from her fingers and his cheeks are ruddy from the heat they worked up between them. “C’mon, we’ll watch a movie. I’ll stay the night.” She lifts her brows suggestively.

West scrunches his face up as he considers her request. He shakes his head slowly and opens and closes his eyes; clearly stating without words he thinks this is a bad idea. His grin hints at his answer though. “Damn it, I really can’t say no to you,” he huffs and licks her lips and her cheeks lift into a full smile.

“So you’ve told me before.”

 

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