Love Me If You Dare (Safe Haven) (14 page)

“You
know what? I’m happy I came home.”

J
oel
knocked on the door at seven the next morning. I heard the sound through the
window I’d left open in hopes that Dylan would again find his way up the apple
tree.

I
was disappointed but not surprised that he didn’t.

“I
came to say goodbye.” Joel said without preamble when I opened the door. My
entire body clenched with anxiety.

“Not
goodbye forever though, right?” I sounded sad, and I was. Joel was one of the
most important people in the world to me. I would always regret not being able
to give him everything.

But
as I watched him rub hands over eyes that were shadowed, I knew I’d done the
right thing. I’d caused him enough grief.

And
if he wanted to say goodbye permanently, well, I owed it to him not to cling.
No matter how much it would hurt to lose him as a friend.

When
he finally spoke, he sounded weary, but the anger from the night before was
gone.

“No,
not forever,” he agreed, and the heart that had sunk began to float back up.
“But we can’t talk for a while. We need that break, like you said.”

I
nodded, my fingers toying with the hem of my pajama top.

“Last
night... it was kind of a wakeup call for me.” He frowned at me, and I had to
try hard not to look at the floor.

“I’m
sorry,” I said, and meant it with all my heart. “I handled that poorly.”

“So
did I,” he admitted, causing me to look at him. “I had no right to barge into
that party and get mad at you because you were with another guy. I didn’t even
have the right to be here, not after you’d told me we were done.”

“I
never wanted to hurt you, Joel.” My voice sounded small. “I care about you more
than you’ll probably ever know. But... we’re just not right for one another.
How many times have we broken up and gotten back together in the last two
years? Seven? Normal couples don’t do that.”

To
my surprise he laughed, though the sound was hollow.

“No,
they don’t,” he agreed, and I felt a measure of relief. “And after I get over
the hurt of losing you, I’ll probably understand that better.”

We
were silent for a moment, and I was unsettled by the depth of what I was
feeling. I wasn’t in love with Joel, but we’d had a long journey.

It
hurt to let him go.

“When
do you leave?” I asked quietly.

“I’m
heading to the airport now.” Taking off the baseball cap that partially
shielded his face, he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked as sad as I
felt.

“Can
I hug you?” I asked, the back of my throat clogging with tears. I hated crying,
but these tears were warranted.

“Of
course.” Joel opened his arms and I folded myself into them, inhaling the
familiar scent of his laundry detergent. A thin track of hot tears burnt a path
down my cheeks, but even with the pain I felt relief.

Being
in Joel’s arms didn’t feel the same as when I was with Dylan. Even if Dylan and
I never got our shit together, at least Joel and I were no longer chasing
something that wasn’t meant to be.

Released
from the hug, eyes (mostly) dry again, Joel and I looked at each other.

“Bye,
Kaylee.” He said finally, making his way down the steps, his sneakers slapping
against the wood.

“Bye,
Joel,” I whispered, leaning my burning forehead against the doorjamb. I was
pretty sure we’d be friends again, at some point in our lives, but he was
right. We needed that space.

As
I went back into the house I had an epiphany of sorts. Relationships were
precious, and the people they were with even more so. They were growing, ever
changing things, and they needed to be tended to so they didn’t atrophy and
die.

I
had found a final green bud in the relationship with my mother last night, and
another with Joel just now. But there was another person whose connection with
me was severely frostbitten, and I needed to tend to it.

Needed
to do it
now
.

Feeling
antsy but sure that he wouldn’t be up yet, I tapped out a text to Jax.

Where
does Dylan live?

***

T
he
address that Jax gave me was for a little house on the edge of town. Small with
white panelling, it had a neatly kept yard, complete with a dog run along the
chain link fence.

I
would have thought that I’d come to the wrong place, except that Dylan’s truck
was parked in the concrete driveway. Further back I could see the vintage bike
he’d bought back when we were teenagers.

I’d
already made my decision, and my car was packed. But I’d wanted to come here,
to try to set things right before I left.

I
thought I saw a shadow at the window as I squared my shoulders and opened the
gate. But then I was at the front door, my pulse kicking into hyper speed as I
listened to the heavy footfall inside.

Dylan
looked at me through the screen door for a long moment before propping it open
with his foot. His lean body filled the door frame, and it was all I could do
not to run my hands over him, to claim him as mine.

“Can
I come in?” It hurt just to get the words out. How had all of this gone so
spectacularly to shit in just twenty-four hours?

He
looked me up and down, the stare assessing, measuring. I wished I knew whether
he was playing it cool, or if he genuinely no longer cared.

Maybe
all of this had just been too much trouble for him. Maybe he was just done.

“I
can’t talk to you right now.” There was no acid in his words, but his tone
didn’t leave any room for argument. My belly flopped over, making me nauseous.

It
was over. Over before we’d even really figured out what it was.

“Goodbye,
Dylan.” From the corner of my eye I thought I saw him move like he was about to
say something, but I’d already turned and was walking away.

He
didn’t call after me, didn’t follow me. The tears clogged my nose, clouded my
eyes as I climbed into the driver’s seat of my Focus, but I shook them off,
refusing myself even one backward glance.

I
wasn’t going to cry. This sucked the big one. But I’d been through worse, and I
was still here.

I
would get through this too.

***

T
wenty
minutes later, I was driving down the road that connected a string of small
towns in the Cascades. I had the radio blasting, a song by Oily Murs blasting,
competing with the pain in my mind.

A
blast that sounded like a gunshot reverberated through the air in my car. I
shrieked as my car jerked to the right, bucking and trying to spin out of control.

I
wrestled with the steering wheel, adrenaline slicing through my veins. Through
pure dumb luck I managed to keep the small car from spinning and finally,
finally,
came to a halt on the shoulder of the road.

“Mother
fucker!” Hands shaking, I shifted into park, then just laid my head on the
steering wheel, trying to catch my breath. Without any conscious thought, a
thread of giggles bubbled out of my throat, and I laughed like a loon for a
full minute, all alone in my car, high on adrenaline.

Finally,
cautiously, I looked into my side view mirror and checked for traffic before scrambling
out of the car. I had barely rounded the back end when the problem was made
obvious.

“Shit.”
I’d blown a tire, the culprit likely the massive shard of green glass that I
could still see glittering in the rubber.

I
scowled down at the flat and considered throwing a tantrum, just because it
would feel good. Today was not going to go down in history as the best time I’d
ever had, and this was just the rancid cherry on top.

I
growled to myself as I popped the trunk of my hatchback and shoved aside my
suitcase. I had a spare and a jack, and I knew how to change a tire... in
theory.

Thankfully,
when I’d gotten the car at eighteen I’d taken notes in a precise hand in a
spiral notebook that was secreted with the spare. I followed them haltingly and
got that part of the car hoisted up.

Then
I tried to loosen the lug nuts.

“Fuck.”
They were on there but good. I tried again, and again, hanging the entire weight
of my body off of the torque wrench.

No
dice. They were rusted on, or seized up, or something. This tire wasn’t
budging.

Red
faced and sweaty, I chucked the torque wrench into the grass and yelled out
loud, just because it felt good. My voice was lost in the empty sky.

I
was about halfway to Frenchglen, where my dad lived and where I went to collect
the paperwork once a week for my job. Frenchglen wasn’t much bigger than Fish
Lake, and I was pretty sure that the only shop there was at the Chevy dealership.

I
was torn. I’d had another long talk with a surprisingly coherent Mom, and had
decided that, since I needed to have a visit with my dad anyway, I would go
stay there for a few weeks. It would be a good chance for me to be away from
Dylan, away from the memories of the house.

I
planned to clear my head on a few things. I still needed to do that, but I knew
without a doubt that Jax would give me a hell of a lot better price than the
dealership.

“Whoever
is up there, could you throw me a break? Just one tiny little break?” I
hollered at the sky as I leaned into the passenger’s side of my car and pulled
out my cell and my now warm bottle of grape soda.

After
texting Jax, I hoisted myself up onto the hood of my car to wait. The metal was
hot to the point of discomfort beneath my butt, and seared the skin revealed by
pink shorts.

Twenty
minutes later I heard the growl of an engine. I scrambled down off the hood,
pulling the hem of my tight white tank top down when it rode up.

When
I saw the vehicle pulling off to the shoulder of the road, I cursed for what
felt like the millionth time in the past forty-five minutes.

Jax
had sent Dylan. Jax was an evil, manipulative, conniving bastard who didn’t
understand that he was playing games with my heart.

When
Dylan swung himself out of the cab of his truck, the sun glistened off of that
golden hair, and emphasized the contrast between the ink of his tattoo and the
paler skin underneath.

Just
looking at him made my chest hurt. And as my ribs seemed to squeeze the air out
of my lungs, I tapped into an anger that I hadn’t known was there.

“Get
back in the truck.” I ordered, planting my hands on my hips. “I’d rather sit
here with a flat than have you help me.”

Ten
minutes ago I would have even told myself that this was an overreaction. But it
suddenly all flooded through me, all the emotions.

It
wasn’t fair to blame me for Joel showing up in Fish Lake. I hadn’t had anything
to do with that.

And,
like my mom was starting to hammer into my head, it wasn’t fair to blame me for
Ella’s suicide either. If she hadn’t done it that night, she would have another
time. I would always have enough grief without piling that on top of it.

To
my consternation, Dylan stalked right past me. Squatting, he looked around,
then finally up at me.

“Where’s
the torque wrench?” His voice was gruff.

I
glared, and opened my mouth to tell him where he could put the damn torque
wrench. He held up his hand and all but bared his teeth at me.

“You
have a flat, I’m here to fix it. Just get the damn wrench.” I could feel his
eyes following me as I stomped across the dry grass to retrieve the tool.

“Here.”
I thrust it into his outstretched hand, then turned away, crossing my arms over
my chest.

I
heard the clang of metal as he applied the torque wrench to the lug nuts, heard
his faint grunt as he applied force.

Trying
to get the tire off had left me red-faced and winded. When Dylan spoke again, I
twisted to look over my shoulder and saw that he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Since
we’re stuck here, we’re going to talk.” His voice was firm.

I
watched through narrowed eyes as he pulled the shreds of rubber away and
replaced it with the spare.

“I
gave you a chance to talk earlier. You didn’t want to.” I spat out the words
and realized just how hurt I was by his actions. Damn it, he could have at
least heard me out.

“I
was mad at you. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for a civilized
discussion.” He went to work replacing the lug nuts, and the slightest bit of
red hazed my vision.

“Yeah.
About that,” I started, turning back around to face him fully. “You know what?
I handled it poorly. I should have told you that Joel had shown up. But you
have no right to get so mad at me over something I didn’t do. I was never with
both of you at the same time. Never. No matter what you think, I’m not that
kind of girl.”

Dylan
winced, and I felt a stab of triumph as my point drove home.

“That
was a cheap shot,” he admitted, dusting his hands off on his thighs and
standing. “But I wasn’t mad about that for long.”

“You
shouldn’t have been mad about it at all.” I furrowed my brow when he took a
step closer. I swore I could feel the heat, radiating off of him in waves.

He
stepped closer, then closer still. He leaned in until I was overwhelmed by his
scent, teased out by the hot sun.

“The
idea of you belonging to someone else drove me insane.”

If
any other guy had said this to me, I would have been running. But when Dylan
said it, I shivered, the words punching straight through to my gut.

I
wasn’t going to touch that one. I couldn’t, not without feeling a part of me
shattering.

“Well,
if you got over it so fast, then what the hell did you have your panties in a
twist about today?” I wanted to back up, to get away from his overwhelming
presence, but I didn’t want to give in.

He
hesitated a moment before replying.