Love Me If You Dare (Safe Haven) (13 page)

“I’m
going home to grab a shower. I’ll see you at the party. Since you’re so
different now, I’m sure you wouldn’t dare to miss it.”

T
he
bottle of beer was icy cold in my hands. I rolled it back and forth, watching
as my fingers left marks in the condensation that beaded on the amber colored
glass.

“Why
so sad, Kaylee Ann?” From the corner of my eye I watched as Jax hiked himself
up to sit beside me. My legs dangled from workbench that had been cleared to
provide extra seating; Jax was tall enough that his heavy boots brushed the
floor even from a seated position.

“I’m
not sad. I’m sulking.” Pursing my lips, I took a long swig from my bottle, then
wrinkled my nose. Beer was never my beverage of choice, but I sure seemed to be
drinking a lot of it now that I was in Fish Lake.

“Isn’t
it the same thing?” Jax nudged my sneakered foot with his booted one.

“Nope.”
I tried to smile, but Dylan’s parting words were still echoing through my head.

Why
was I trying so hard to assure everyone that this was me now? Did it really
matter?

Not
really, at least not according to Dylan.

I’d
been watching him surreptitiously all night. Apart from a nod in greeting when
he’d come in, damp from his shower and so beautiful that he made my eyes water,
he hadn’t acknowledged me even once.

“Well?”
Jax followed my stare out to the crowd of people. Some were dancing, most were
drinking, all seemed to be having a good time.

All,
except for Dylan and I.

“Can’t
you guess?” I curved my lips into a wry smile, looking up at Jax. “God, why
couldn’t I have just fallen for you? Life would have been so much simpler.”

Jax
snorted into his beer, wiping foam from his lips as he laughed. “Oh, honey, I
guarantee it wouldn’t be any easier. I’m not your type.” He looked out at the
herd of people too, and I thought, though I couldn’t have been sure, that his
gazed lingered on Nick and his new girlfriend.

“What
is your type?” I asked, curious. There had been rumors about Jax and this girl
or that in our teens, but I’d been a couple of years younger and hadn’t paid
much attention. Still, I couldn’t remember him ever having a steady girlfriend.

Jax
looked at me, eyebrows raised, looking like he was about to tell me to mind my
own business. Then he shrugged and took a swig of his beer.

“Men,”
he said finally, as simply as if he was saying that he liked oranges better
than apples. “Men are my type.”

“Oh.”
I blinked into my bottle of beer. I wasn’t entirely surprised—the idea had been
percolating in the back of my mind ever since I had seen him gently rebuff the
flirtations of the gorgeous Maddy.

But
still, I wasn’t entirely sure what to say. So I went with what was on the tip
of my tongue.

“Man.
I thought I had problems.” I sucked in my breath as soon as I’d said it, but
Jax guffawed instead of being offended.

“I
don’t have problems, Kaylee girl.” Taking my empty beer bottle from my fingers,
he tossed it towards the bin of empties that was dangerously close to
overflowing. Sliding down from the workbench, he clasped me around the waist
and lifted me down, too.

“My
closest friends all know, and I came to terms with it years ago. Now all I have
to do is find that special person and hold on.” Nodding with a crooked smile,
Jax waded off through the people, his stride aiming for Nick.

I
was left standing alone on the concrete, my brow furrowed as I turned Jax’s
words over in my head.

Find
that special person and hold on.

My
feet were moving before I could stop to over think it. I pushed through the
people, some of whom I knew, more that I didn’t. More than one mutter of “crazy
bitch’ reached my ears, but I ignored them.

Dylan
was standing at the edge of the shop, one hand stuffed in the pocket of his
jeans, the other wrapped around a can of Budweiser. A girl who face poked
vaguely at my memory was standing next to him in full flirt mode, her tanned
breasts and taut abdomen displayed by her teeny blue tube top.

She
glared at me as I halted right in front of the two of them. I scowled right
back. I was a couple of years older than she was, if memory served, and I’d
undoubtedly gone through a hell of a lot more shit in life. She wasn’t going to
win a show down with me, but she was welcome to try.

“I’ll
find you later,” the girl pouted at Dylan in what she probably thought was a
seductive manner, pushing her chest out and simpering a little. I threw up a
little in my mouth, not literally of course.

But
even as she slinked away, waggling her butt, I wanted to shake her. No matter
how much I’d changed, how much of a flirt I was now, I’d always maintained that
confidence was the sexiest thing a girl could have.

I
might have struggled with my own rule, but I tried.

Turning
back to Dylan, I raised an eyebrow at him, my heart hammering.

He
smirked.

“Can
we talk?” I was going to say what I wanted to, whether he agreed or not, and so
I was already starting when he nodded.

“Look.
You don’t like that I’m not the same person I used to be, that I’m more like
Ella now. I don’t like that you judge me for it.” My words came out in a rush. His
eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw clenching, but he nodded.

“Keep
going.”

“But
I don’t care. I want to... to explore whatever this is, even if it crashes and
burns.” Feeling as though I might throw up, now that I’d gotten the words out,
I bit my lip and looked down at my sneakers.

God,
I was wearing sneakers to a party. I wouldn’t have done that anywhere except in
Fish Lake. It just went to show that we all just kept on changing, adapting to
the twists and turns that life threw at us every single day.

There
was silence, a silence that was still somehow deafening in the midst of the
crowd. I tried to drag my stare from the oil stains in the concrete floor, but
couldn’t.

This
was too important.

“Kaylee.”
Strong hands grabbed my upper arms, pulled me up to my toes. I tipped my head
up and, after catching the quickest glimpse of the burning green of his eyes,
found myself locked into a kiss that stole my breath away.

I
froze—didn’t he know that pretty much everyone we knew was here and could see
us?

Then
he murmured a word against my lips, and I found that I no longer cared.

“
Mine
.”

Moaning,
I wrapped my arms around his waist, returning the fierceness of the kiss.

This—
this
.

This
was what I’d been waiting for my entire life.

“Kaylee?”
The all too familiar voice came from behind me, and a big hand grasped my
forearm and tugged.

“Let
me go!” Not happy about being bodily pulled away from a kiss that was telling
me so much without words, I whirled to face the intruder and give him a piece
of my mind.

“Joel?”
Shit
. I felt my heart leap into my throat as I looked up into the
accusing blue eyes of my ex.

“What
the fuck is going on, Kaylee?” Joel was angry, that was obvious, but there was
a hell of a lot of hurt in his voice as well. I cringed, knowing what it looked
like.

I
looked from Joel to Dylan, and felt my heart skip a beat when I saw how much
his expression had cooled.

“No,
Dylan. This isn’t what it looks like.” It would have been better to just spit
out that Joel was my ex-boyfriend, that we weren’t together, but that would
have hurt Joel.

Too
late for that, I realized as I looked back to my ex.

“I
thought you said there wasn’t anyone else.” Joel almost shouted, accusation
dripping from every word. I flinched when I remembered my reasoning for saying
that.

Dylan
wasn’t the reason that I’d decided Joel and I were over for good. I’d thought
it was better to just not even bring him up, to spare Joel’s feelings.

Now
I saw that when I’d thought I was being kind, I’d actually made everything
worse.

“What
is this, Kaylee?” Joel asked, throwing his arms up in the air. Seeing the two
guys next to one another hurt my head. Joel was a study in action, movement—he
was upset and wasn’t afraid to show it.

And
Dylan—when I turned to Dylan, I lost the ability to breathe. He was reserved,
calm on the outside, like he could have cared less.

But
I could see that he wasn’t really calm. No, he’d just erected his barriers,
closing in his emotions.

It
scared the hell out of me.

“Yes,
Kaylee. What is this?” Dylan sounded bored, maybe even slightly amused.

I
thought of that afternoon, of the way he’d pulled me into his arms like he
needed me more than he needed to breathe, and I knew that I’d fucked things
right the hell up.

“Dylan...”
I tugged on the tail of my ponytail with frustration, aware that curious eyes
were turning our way. “Joel is... he’s my ex-boyfriend. He got here yesterday.”

“I
see.” Dylan nodded, and I knew what he was thinking. Why would Joel have come
if I hadn’t invited him? I would have thought the same thing in his place.

“I’m
sorry.” I looked up at Joel, then at Dylan, my eyes wide and probably
terrified. I was sinking, and neither of them was reaching out a hand to stop
me.

Joel
snorted with disgust. With a shake of his head, he walked away. I still cared
about him enough to want to chase after him, to make it better.

But
if I did, it would be over with Dylan for good.

I
returned my gaze to the man who, only hours before, had held me in his arms and
told me he needed me. His eyes had turned to green ice.

“Dylan,
I...” My voice trailed off as panic snaked through me. I had so much to say,
and no way to get it out.

He
shook his head, his lips curling into a sneer. Tossing his empty can into a
nearby bin, he nodded, his expression that of someone looking at a stranger.

“You
know Kaylee, you’ve spent weeks now trying to convince everyone that the way
you’ve been behaving isn’t just you acting like Ella, but that it’s really
you.” Shoving his hands into his pocket, he would have been the picture of
nonchalance if I hadn’t been able to see how tight his every muscle was.

“It
is me.” My voice was small. “But I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Joel is my ex.
We’re done. We’ve been done since before I got here.”

“He
doesn’t seem to know that.” With a casual shrug, he sneered down at me, and I
felt my heart twist.

“You
know, maybe you’re more like Ella than any of us ever knew.” He jerked his chin
in the air, the movement my friends and I had always called ‘the guy nod’. “You
sure had me fooled.”

“Dylan!”
I followed him towards the exit of the garage, my steps halting where his were
sure. From the corner of my eye I saw the little brunette in the tube top, the
one who had been draped over Dylan not twenty minutes earlier.

“Are
they really fighting over the girl who killed her sister?” The snide whisper
made my steps falter, but I continued on. Dylan’s legs were far longer than
mine though, and he quickly outdistanced me, leaving me alone, shivering
despite the summer night.

What
was I supposed to do now?

Words
that I’d told myself before I’d even come back to Fish Lake echoed in my head,
and this time, instead of despair they offered the tiniest, most miniscule
shred of comfort.

Home
is where you go when you have no place else.

M
y
mom kept her emergency stash of vodka in the back of the freezer, in a plastic
container labelled ‘jam’. I’d found it when I was taking stock of what she’d
had for groceries before I’d gone shopping, which had turned out to be not
much.

For
the first time in memory, I was grateful that there was alcohol in the house. I
walked in the front door and went straight to the kitchen, removing the
container from its hiding place and peeling back the lid.

I
lifted the entire container to my lips for a sip. Tomorrow I would deal with
the fallout from this clusterfuck of a day, but right now I wanted a drink,
maybe two, just to numb the dizzying whirl of emotion that was filling me to
the point of pain.

I
took one small sip of the ice cold vodka, the potent liquid burning the tender
skin of my throat and making me gag and cough.

It
warmed the way to my gut and made relaxation spread slowly, warmly, in my
belly.

I
lifted the container for a second sip, desperate to chase the feeling. I was so
lost in my misery that I didn’t hear anyone enter the kitchen until the alcohol
was ripped out of my hand and tossed into the sink.

“What—”
I jumped as my mom picked up the container that had flopped into the sink and
upended it, the viscous liquid swirling down the drain in a gelatinous river.
She turned on the tap to rinse it away, and I couldn’t do anything but stare.

“Oh
no you don’t, Kaylee Ann Sawyer.” The vodka effectively taken care of, my mom
brushed her wet hands on her thighs, and I saw that she was dressed not in the
skirt and blouse that she favoured for her evenings out drinking but a pair of
worn blue jeans and short bathrobe.

“I
wanted that.” Though I had been stunned into silence by her sudden appearance,
I pulled my wits back around me and glared. “What the hell was that for?”

“I
might not be the best mother in the world, but I’m still a mother. You think I
didn’t hear you stomping in, crying, then rifling through the freezer? There’s
no ice cream in there, so what else could you be looking for?” A hint of guilt
flashed through her eyes, and in the mood that I was in, I pounced on it.

“Like
you can talk.” Not actually that upset that the vodka was gone, I crossed my
arms over my chest and bared my teeth in anger. “Who’s the one who had
emergency vodka hidden in the freezer anyway?”

“That’s
why I poured it out.” There was a moment where Mom looked like she might back
down, but she rallied and lifted her chin. In that moment she looked so much
like Ella that I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.

The
next words that she spoke didn’t help.

“I
won’t have you follow in my footsteps, or your sister’s.” Mom had never been
one for confrontation, hiding from the problems with my dad, with Ella in the
bottom of a bottle rather than confront them. But as I looked at her, at home
in the evening when she was usually perched on a bar stool, pale with her limbs
trembling just the faintest bit, I realized that something much bigger was
going on here.

“Okay.”
I said simply. When she sat at the kitchen table and pulled a chair out for me,
I leaned in and took a surreptitious sniff. The alcoholic fumes that usually
hung around her in a crowd were conspicuously absent, replaced by a slight
twitch and a small crease in the space between her brows.

I
sat, and we simply stared at one another for a long moment. Being here, with my
mom, in the house where my life had turned to shit made tension and nerves ride
throughout my veins, but it was a ‘better before worse’ kind of scenario.

I
had no idea what to say. Thankfully, my mom spoke first.

“I
like having you home, Kaylee.” Her voice was tired, like the words were an
effort to get out. For some reason, those six simple words were a blade
slashing into a water balloon—my flexible front gave way, and the emotions that
I had frozen inside of me exploded like a geyser, spewing red hot and burning
me, my mom, the world.

I
buried my face in my hands and sobbed, sobbed like I hadn’t done since my twin
sister had been lowered into the ground. I cried until my eyes burned and my
nose was stuffy and I’d gone through an entire roll of the toilet paper Mom
brought me, cleaning up the mess.

She
sat, patient but for that twitch that I was pretty sure didn’t have anything to
do with me.

When
the worst of my storm had passed she slowly, tentatively reached out a hand and
laid her fingers over mine. Apart from helping her to bed when she was drunk,
it was the first time we’d touched in years.

My
heart stuttered in my chest, trying to adapt to the strange new rhythm.

She
held back, her eyes telling me that I needed to speak first.

Slowly,
the words doing their best to stay in my throat, I looked her in the eye.

“I
needed my mom.” I wasn’t referring to tonight—no, the stress of the encounter
with Dylan and Joel was still present, but had been pushed back a bit under the
weight of what was happening between me and my mother.

She
winced, just the slightest bit, as my words hit home. I shuddered at the notion
of upsetting her, but...

Well,
maybe it was time that it was said.

“What’s
the problem?” She finally asked, after visibly trying to absorb what I had
said. I understood that she was asking about tonight, and I didn’t push.

Those
few words she’d said to me had been giant, a completely unexpected offering of
peace. I didn’t want to push it.

Not
that this topic was any better. Shuddering, I tried to reach for the warmth
that the small sip of vodka had spread through me. Liquid courage, isn’t that
what people called it?

“I—”
I couldn’t. I couldn’t say the words. She already knew, but we’d never
discussed it.

“I
can’t tell you.” I whispered. This whole story started with Ella, and my sister
was a taboo subject in this household.

Mom
looked me square in the eye, again looking enough like my twin to make me
wince. Dragging her gaze in a way that was designed to make me follow her
stare, she turned her eyes towards the gigantic garbage bin that stood by the
back door, the bin that was filled with empty cans and bottles.

Empty
beer cans. Empty bottles that had once contained coolers, margaritas, and her
favorite, vodka.

Runs
in the family
, I thought idly—vodka was my
favorite drink too. Then I froze, remembering the urgency with which I had
wanted that drink when I had come into the house.

Maybe
I was no different than my Mom or Ella—maybe that wanting was in our blood. The
only difference was in how I’d handled it so far. And when I thought of how
much booze I consumed in an average week at school I had to conclude that I
wasn’t handling it very well at all.

“I—”
This was a new perspective on my mom. Biting my lip, I forced the words out
like vomit, hot and acidic and bitter to the taste.

“I
killed Ella.” Slapping my hands onto the table, I spread my fingers, let the
coolness of the surface ease the heat that clamminess brought to my palms. I
stared at my mom, waiting for her to jump up, to point her finger and disown
me.

She
did none of that. Instead she furrowed her brow and clasped her trembling
fingers beneath her chin, looking at me intently and with puzzlement.

“Explain,
please.”

I
swallowed heavily, inhaled deeply, then poured out the entire story.

I’d
know when something started to be seriously wrong with Ella. We were twins—I
would have known even if she had been discreet about the drug use, the
drinking, the casual sex. The way she snuck out of the bedroom window to meet
up with Dylan and raise hell.

I’d
tried to keep an eye on her. Tried to know where she was, what she was doing.
Tried to stay home to sit with her when the depression caused by substance
withdrawal kicked in, as it had the night everything had gone to hell.

But
that afternoon... that afternoon I had run into Dylan in town. He’d called me
the pretty Sawyer girl, and he’d asked me if I wanted to come out with him that
night. Being the serious, studious girl that I was then, my head wouldn’t
normally have been turned by something so simple.

But
this was Dylan. Dylan, for whom I’d harboured an almost obsessive desire for
years and years.

I’d
been out with Dylan when my twin died—had been out having fun while the other
half of me needed me, maybe even called for me.

I
hadn’t been there.

Finished
with my horrible tale, I slumped back in the wooden chairs, the spindles of the
back digging uncomfortably into my spine. Steeling myself, I looked up at my
mom. I fully expected to see disgust, maybe even rage on her face.

“Oh,
Kaylee.” Instead of what I’d expected, she only looked sad. “Oh baby, that’s
not what you’ve been believing, is it?”

I
blinked, suddenly feeling like my brain had been stuffed full of cotton balls.

“Didn’t
you hear me?” I asked. “I wasn’t there. Because I was out on a date with
her
best friend
.”

Pinching
her lips together, Mom shook her head.

“Kaylee,
what happened to Ella was not your fault. If anyone is to blame, it’s me and
your father. Neither of us set very good examples.” She rubbed her throat
absently and swallowed, the sound dry like she needed a glass of water, and I
understood.

She
wanted a drink, but water wasn’t what would make her feel better. She wanted
alcohol. Maybe that emergency vodka was all she had in the house, but somehow I
didn’t think so.

She
was trying to be good.

I
could try to be good too.

“Since
I went to school, I...” Oh, I had no idea how to say this. It hadn’t been a
conscious decision, more a way for me to deal with the guilt and grief, but it
sounded so strange to say it out loud.

“Since
going to school, I’ve been... almost trying to be Ella.” I cringed when my mom
winced, and I saw at once how misguided I had been. Trying to be like the girl
who had committed suicide—not so healthy.

But
feeling like a bit of my sister was alive in me was what had gotten me through.

“I
dress different. I behave differently. I... at first it was an act, but now
it’s like... like I’m both of us. For real, like, that’s just who I am now.”
Miserable, I cupped my chin in my hands and looked across the table. “I thought
it was what everyone wanted, for Ella to be the twin who had lived. I guess I
was trying to make that real.”

My
mom’s mouth fell open like I had struck her. When she grabbed my wrists and
shook them I jumped.

“You
listen to me, Kaylee Ann.” She sounded furious, but someone I didn’t think that
all that mad was for me. Heaven knew there were plenty of targets—me, her, Dad.
Ella herself.

“Ella
was going to do what she was going to do. You know that better than anyone.”

I
swallowed, the image of my beautiful, headstrong twin flashing through my mind
before misting away.

“If
it hadn’t happened that night, it would have been another night. Kaylee, you
know
that.” Mom looked at me with eyes that were so similar to my own, and for the
first time in years I was grateful for her presence.

But
there was something that even she couldn’t explain away.

“Dylan...
that night, when we came inside. When we... found her.” I squinted, frowned,
refused to let those dreadful images take up residence in my head. “He looked
at me—and the look was so full of anger. Of blame.”

That
look had burnt itself into my mind a long time ago. To the day I died, I would
never be able to forget his eyes, topaz rimmed with green, looking at me not
with the desire of earlier in the evening, but with accusation.

“He
thought I should have stayed home with her that night, if no one else was
around.” Clearly he hadn’t known she was going to be alone. I’d known but had
brushed it off, and that made it my fault.

No—not
my fault. At least according to my mom.

It
was going to take a long time before I actually believed that.

“What
does he think now?” Mom asked quietly. “Clearly he’s gotten over it, if he’s
been hanging out with you.”

I
sank my teeth into my lower lip.

“I
don’t know what he thinks now,” I admitted. “We don’t talk about Ella much,
because when we do we fight. I don’t know why we’ve been seeing each other.
It’s like the universe has decided that we have to deal with each other.”

I
paused, trying to clear a path to the truth in my mind, hidden as it was in
emotion.

“I
think he actually cares about me. Me, not me as Ella.” I remembered, for the
millionth time, the way he’d come to me that afternoon when he needed comfort.

But
I still couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at me three years ago. A feeling
that strong couldn’t just disappear, and I said so.

Mom
sniffed, then tangled her fingers in my own again. “He might have been mad,
Kaylee, but I doubt it was at you. He was probably mad at himself, at me and
your dad, at Ella’s other friends. At Ella. You were just the one who was
there. And if he hasn’t figured out by now the truth of it all, then he’s an
idiot.”

Surprised,
I barked out a laugh, then tentatively squeezed my mom’s fingers in return. She
smiled, almost shyly, and I was both bemused and astounded.

“When
did you get so wise?” I asked, tongue in cheek. The entire situation was
surreal—if someone had told me even a month ago that I would soon be having a
talk like this with my mother, I would have had some bitter comment in retort.

Mom
smiled at me sadly. “If it took this long for me to be wise, I’m kind of a
sucky mom.”

“No.”
The word was out of my mouth before I could even think. I took my time with my
next words, thinking them through before speaking.