Get Off on the Pain (12 page)

He hesitates but then turns the key and pulls out without saying a word.

I’m not going lie; I sort of like him better that way; sexy and mute. That . . . I can handle.

WE RIDE IN SILENCE FOR about ten minutes before pulling up at the graveyard and he kills the engine. My heart sinks. His hands tighten on the steering wheel as he fights to catch his breath. His emotions are so thick I can almost
feel
them.

I want to say something, but I don’t. I have a feeling that this moment of silence is needed, so I just sit here and wait for his next move.

Almost five minutes I’ve sat here when he turns to me with a pained look in his eyes. He looks dead inside: tortured and hurt. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He hops out of the truck and I don’t hesitate before getting out and following behind him. A woman never gets anywhere by following orders from a man. I’ve never seen him look so vulnerable, and my chest tightens at the thought of him possibly needing me to be here for him.

He pauses for a second and shakes his head at me, before continuing to walk and mumbling under his breath. It doesn’t take long before he stops in front of a tombstone and grips his hair as he reads the front, his muscles flexing as he stares down.

I see his jaw muscles tremble as if he’s fighting back the urge to either cry or scream. I haven’t even taken the moment to see whose grave we might be standing at. I can’t seem to stop watching him. He doesn’t seem like the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Seeing him this way makes him seem more real, and makes me remember why I wanted to help him the first day I met him.

He reaches in his jacket pocket, pulls something out, and kisses it before kneeling down in front of the tombstone. That’s when I look down to read it for myself.

Lizzy Carter

Loving Mother and fighter till the end.

You shall never be forgotten

My eyes water as Memphis sets down an old paintbrush on the edge of the tombstone, directly in front of the wording. He closes his eyes, now crouching down before it. “I’ll never forget those paintings you used to make for me every night before bed when I was ten. Do you remember that?” He smiles small as if remembering. “Or the ones you used to give to me every year for my birthday. You were the strongest, most talented woman in the world. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about your smile or your laugh and wish that I could have been there for you.” He punches the ground before gripping the grass. “I love you more than words and I would trade my life for yours if given the chance, but I can’t and it kills me. I promised you I’d take care of Alex, so that’s what I’m going to do. I promise you that. You’ll never have to worry about Alex as long as I’m around.” He kisses his hand and then touches it to the ground, keeping it there for a moment. “You’ll always be my world. Sleep tight, beautiful angel.”

I wipe away a stray tear as Memphis stands up and starts walking away. He doesn’t say a word or stop to see if I’m coming. He clearly needs to get away and fast. I know that feeling, so I fall into step behind him.

Once we get in the truck, Memphis looks over at me and lets out a small breath when he sees another tear fall. “My mother died five years ago and I wasn’t even here to take care of her. She lost the battle with breast cancer.” He grips the steering wheel and grinds his jaw, fighting his emotions.

Before I know it my hands are on his face and I’m forcing him to look at me. “It’s okay to show some emotion. You can cry for your mother, Memphis. You love her.”

He grabs both of my arms and squeezes while looking down. He’s still fighting it. “You want to know where the fuck I have been for the last six years? Why I tell you to stay the hell away from me?”

I nod my head and look him dead in the eye as he 1100ks back up, even though I’m almost afraid of his answer. “Yes.”

“I was in prison,” he says thickly. “That’s exactly why you should stay away. Everyone around me gets hurt. That should be enough.”

He starts the engine and pulls out.

“I’m taking you home.”

I’m stunned speechless for some odd reason. I want to say something, ask him why . . . but I don’t. I have a feeling it’s not the time.

MY HEART FEELS AS IF it’s been ripped straight from my fucking chest and my lungs feel as if they’re on fire. I wanted to stay with my mom for longer and remember the good times, remember her, but it hurt so fucking bad that I could barely breathe. I know it may make me seem like a pussy, but I have never been good with controlling my emotions; especially, when it came to that woman. She gave birth to me and I respected her with everything in me. Seeing her in pain killed me every day and hurt me even more knowing that there was nothing I could do ease her suffering.

I had to get away so I could breathe again. Having Lyric there to witness it didn’t help the matter one bit. It only made me want to give in, to have a moment of weakness, and I can’t allow that. Once you start feeling—the pain never stops. Physical pain I can deal with, but emotionally, I cut myself off a long time ago . . . and being around Lyric makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time: hope, need, desire, and selfishness. My need to be selfish with her and have her all to myself is too great to ignore.

Ever since she came into my life, standing there behind me on the porch that day, I knew she would be hard to forget. From her messy, caramel hair and pouty lips, to the fire in her big, green eyes, I knew she was going to test me unlike anyone else ever has. I could tell she was a fighter just like me.

The only thing I need right now is to get out of my head and away from the woman beside me.

“Go inside, Lyric. I’ll wait here until you get in.”

She looks over at me from the passenger seat, one hand on the door handle. She’s not letting me go so easily. I can see it in her expression. “You’re not going home?”

I turn away and look straight ahead, refusing to look at her. If I do—I’ll cave in. I’ve already done that enough with her. It needs to stop. “No. I can’t be there right now. You really don’t need to worry about it. Now go. Goodnight.”

She takes her hand off the handle and pulls her seatbelt back on. “Good, because I don’t feel like going home either.” She nods her head toward the road. “Let’s go.”

“No,” I say firmly. “Just go inside.”

“Why not? What is the big deal? What is so wrong with taking me along and getting to know me? I’m not asking you for anything other than company. It’s a big fucking world and it sucks being in it alone.”

I let out a slow, deep breath and finally look over at her. She needs to see that I’m a fucking monster. I ruin lives and it will be no different with her. “Because I don’t want you around me when I’m drinking. I’m working hard here to keep my fucking hands off you. If I get fucked out of my mind . . . I’m going to want to fuck you and once I fuck you, the game changes. You don’t want that. Trust me.”

She nervously runs her hands through her hair and looks at my lips, swallowing. “You don’t know shit about what I want. Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think. Now can we go? It doesn’t look like Bailey is home anyways. I don’t feel like sitting home alone.”

She always does this to me. I don’t get why she is so hard to get rid of. She’s pushing me and I can only hold off for so long before I fuck her senseless and pull her into my dark world; a place she doesn’t belong. “Just keep your distance from me. If your friends are there then you hang out with them. Okay?”

I look over at her when she doesn’t respond. “Okay, Lyric? I need you to understand and stay away? Say it.”

She looks up at me with fire in her eyes. She’s not happy with being told what to do. Another thing I like about her. Well fuck me. “Fine. I get it. Let’s just go,” she says stiffly.

We ride in silence, her occasionally looking over in my direction while fiddling with her seatbelt. I can tell she wants to ask me something, but is fighting hard to keep it inside. I don’t blame her. If I were her, I’d have a shit ton of questions. Now, I can only hope she won’t ask them. I hate lying, so avoiding them is my best option.

We pull up at
Blue’s
and I’m surprised to find that it’s not as busy as Monday, but a little relieved at the same time. That means there’s less chance of me getting into a fight. I’m sure my little incident with Ryder has already gotten around to that fuck head of a sheriff, Bob, and he’ll be looking for ways to bring me in just like back when I was a teenager; old habits always die hard and I’m sure he’s itching for some action. The way I’m feeling right now wouldn’t be good for anyone, including him.

“I don’t see Ryder’s truck here,” she says, relieved, while reaching for the door handle and looking out the window. “Thank goodness, because I don’t feel like breaking my fist tonight or wasting any more drinks. That shit isn’t cheap. ”

A small smile spreads across my face as I turn around and hop out of the truck. There’s something about her determination and feistiness that only draws me to her more. I like someone that isn’t afraid to stand up for what they believe in or say what’s on their mind. It’s another thing about her that might put me in a situation I don’t want to be in.

I pull the door open and hold it for Lyric to walk in. I guide her inside by placing my hand on the small of her back. I feel her suck in a small breath before she looks over her shoulder at me and then quickly turns away.

Eyes land on us as I walk her over to the bar and wave for the short, black haired bartender to come over. She looks slightly familiar, but it isn’t until she gets close that I recognize her: Penelope Smith. She’s been Ava’s best friend since the second grade.

She scoops some ice into a glass when she sees Lyric and smiles, before turning to me. Her face turns white and she freezes, but then smiles again. “Holy shit, Ava was right.”

“Penelope,” I respond, as she leans over the bar and kisses my forehead. “You always were bad with greetings. Good to see you too.”

She looks back and forth between Lyric and me with a confused expression, before shaking it off and speaking. “Ava told me you were back. She also told me just how much hotter you’ve become. I was calling bullshit, but wow! Have you been working out or what?” She pours Lyric a Vodka and cranberry before looking back up at me. “What will it be, sexy?”

“A beer and a shot of whiskey for now.” I turn to Lyric, who’s already sipping on her drink, just watching our interaction. She looks slightly amused as if she’s waiting to hear more.

Penelope sets my drinks down in front of me and shakes her head while wiping down the bar. “I heard about Ryder and how he acted like a total jackass. Just ignore him. Everyone knows it wasn’t your fault. You did what you had–”

I quickly finish my shot and slam my empty glass down, stopping her midsentence. “This is not what I came here to hear, Penelope,” I growl out. “It’s in the past. I’m just in town long enough to find Alex and then I’m out.”

Lyric’s eyes shoot over in my direction before she takes a huge gulp of her drink and sets it down in front of her. “Where are you going?”

I grab my beer and hold it to my lips, looking Lyric in the eyes. I want to see that she understands. I’ll be gone soon. “As far away as I can get.”