Pulled Within (31 page)

I gripped the edge of the granite and leaned my stomach into the stone. It didn’t matter if my sweater fell open and revealed my see-thru tank; she could stare at my tits for all I cared. They were as real
as the rest of me. “I don’t believe he’s
hiding
me just because he
hasn’t told you about us.”

“Then you’re deluding yourself.” Her tone was so
condescending.
“If my son were proud of the woman he’s invited into his life, he
certainly
would have shown her off to his parents—or at the very least,
alerted them to the fact that she’s living in his home.” Her back straightened.
“I’m afraid you and your scar simply don’t fit into his clean, perfect
world. Hart knows it. I know it.” Her eyes narrowed. “And now,
you know it, too.”

I was so tempted to reach over the counter and whip my fingers
across her plumped-up face, or allow all the churning emotions inside me to blast out at her in a hurricane of words. But she was
Hart’s mom. I didn’t care if she was hurt by me, but I cared if he was.

That made it worth getting past the anger.

So I released my grip on the counter, tucked my hands into the pockets of the sweater and walked into the guest room. My
messenger
bag was on the floor of the closet. I shoved a pair of jeans, a second sweater, boots and a few cosmetics into the bag and walked back into the kitchen. I didn’t say anything as I passed her.

I didn’t even look at her.

But I did notice her white Lexus as I moved down the driveway to get into my car. It was parked on the side of the house, leaving me plenty of room to get out.

I was glad for that.

She didn’t have to like me, and she didn’t have to approve of our
relationship. Parental approval was the last thing I was after. But
there was a reason Hart hadn’t told her that I was his assistant and living at his house.

She was right: he’d kept me hidden.

And if he couldn’t share me with his family now, how would he
ever be comfortable with me at all? I was someone to hide, the girl
who
would never measure up to his family’s level of success, with the
mystery scar that covered half her face.

The girl who rocked back and forth for no apparent reason.

The girl who had nightmares she couldn’t explain to him, and
who wouldn’t let him touch her cheek no matter how tender he was.

How would he ever be able to truly accept the girl in the never-ending storm?

I NEEDED
my best friend. His understanding voice, his non-
judgmental gaze watching over me as I spilled my soul. His kind, patient hands rubbing my back while I vented everything I had pent up inside. But today wasn’t a visitation day at the rehab center, which meant Brady wasn’t available. So I drove to Shane’s house. It was the closest thing
I’d had to a home since Darren had died. Feeling like this, it was also the only place I wanted to be. It wasn’t even noon yet. I knew Shane
would still be at work because I should have been there, too. There was no chance of that happening today.

I took my cell phone out of my jacket pocket to send him a text.

Me:
I’m outside your house. Do you care if I hang inside for a while?

Shane:
Why aren’t you at work?

Me:
Looong story.

Shane:
We’ll talk about it when I get home.

Me:
Ok.
Don’t tell him I’m here.

Shane:
Now we definitely need to talk. Stay put until I get there.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and let myself in through the front door using the key Shane had given me years ago. It was the
first time I’d used it since I had moved out.

His place was so different from Hart’s. It was cozy and felt like someone actually lived in it instead of having the model home feel where nothing was ever out of place. It wasn’t normal for a house to
constantly
smell like lavender and be dust-free all the time. Shane’s house smelled like pine and tree bark, with a touch of sport-scented
deodorant. And it
was worn-in: the couch sagged in the middle in the spot where he sat, and the coffee table showed marks where his feet rested. There
were
newspapers on the counter and dishes in the sink. It was more of a
home than anyplace I knew.

I dropped my bag on one of the chairs and curled up in the
corner
of the couch cushions, breathing it all in. There should have been more
life in the house than there was. Brady’s absence felt so obvious. I fingered my phone in my pocket. I wasn’t able to see him, but that
didn’t mean I couldn’t talk to him.

I dialed the rehab center. It was the direct line to the phone in the common room. No one had ever answered whenever I’d called
before. I had no other way to contact him, so I tried again.

Someone picked up after the third ring. “Rec room.” It was a male voice.

“Is Brady there?” I pulled a pillow against my chest.

Please. Please
say yes
.

“Brady who?”

“Brady Lucas,” I clarified.

“Oooh, yeah…him. Let me check. Hang on.” I heard him place
the
phone down. His feet pounded over the floor. There was laugher in
the background or yelling. I couldn’t tell which.

I busied myself by brushing my fingers through the long strings
that hung from each side of the square pillow. I stopped when I felt
something weird. It was a little piece of a potato chip. I smiled as I
set it on the coffee table.

“Hello?” His voice came through the phone like sunshine.

“Brady?” I sat up sharply. “It’s Rae.”

“Hey, good timing! I just got out of my one-on-one.”

I tried not to let my voice quiver. “I’m so glad you answered.”

“Is everything okay?”

I couldn’t bitch about Hart not telling his family about me, or what had happened with his mom. Brady wasn’t a big fan of Hart to begin
with. But he was also in rehab working on himself, which was difficult enough. He didn’t need to be dealing with my shit, too. More than anything, I wanted to see him, to be in his presence. It had been too
long. “I’m coming to see you tomorrow.”

“Something’s wrong…” His voice deepened. “Tell me what’s
going
on.” I loved his concerned tone. It was the sound of someone who
truly cared about me
.

I wanted to crawl into his lap. I wanted him to hug me and tell me everything would be all right.

“I was just missing your voice,” I said. “That’s all.”

“Bullshit.” He didn’t buy it. “What did Hart do?”

I leaned back into the couch again and tucked my legs
underneath me. “It’s nothing, Brady.”

“You think I can’t handle it, don’t you?” I heard his breathing slow, as if he was trying to force himself to stay calm. “You
know
I can, Rae.”

I sighed. “His mom came to the house this morning. Hart wasn’t
home so it was just us. She thought I was the maid, Brady. He didn’t tell her about me, or our relationship. She was so fucking mean.” I could have used some weed to dull the pain of thinking about our
encounter. But I had nothing on me to smoke, and talking to my best friend in
rehab didn’t seem like the right moment to light one up, so I went to the fridge for a beer. “She doesn’t think I’ll ever be good enough for
Hart. And she kept making comments about my scar.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

“Screw her, then.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“You haven’t told Hart any of this, have you?” He knew me too well. He could tell there was more. “I bet you left his house and went straight to my dad’s. You’re sitting on his couch right now, aren’t you?”

I set the beer on the coffee table while I sat back down. “Yup. I’m
here and…I can’t go back there. Not after that bitch put me in my place.”

“I know you’re working for Hart now. Dad told me. If he messes
everything up for you, I will kill him.” I loved that he had my back,
but
that was the opposite of what he should have been feeling,
considering how his anger had damaged things for him in the past. “Those bank deposits are important to you, and losing that job means you won’t be able to make them anymore.”

I took another sip, tucked my legs against my chest, and
rocked
…back and forth
. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

He huffed. “I know why you didn’t tell me, and you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” His voice turned gentle. “Does he know
what’s coming in six days?”

He remembered. Again.

“He didn’t even know that Darren had died. I told him as little as possible.”

“You’re afraid to tell him about it.” It wasn’t a question.

I shrugged. “I’ve never had to tell anyone before. Everyone
around here already knows.”

“Listen, what his mom said is really fucked-up, but you can’t hold Hart responsible for that. He might have a good reason for not telling her about you, like maybe he knew she’d react like the
Wicked Bitch of
Bar Harbor.” I laughed at that. “Before you get all crazy, find out what that reason is. It’ll hurt if he says something you don’t want to hear, but you’ve been through way worse. You’re stronger than you
give yourself credit for.”

I had never heard him be so rational before. “Wow. This rehab
thing is really working for you, Brady.”

He laughed. It was a beautiful sound to hear. “No matter how it goes down, Rae, I’m here for you. That will never change.”

He was right; I could handle whatever was going to happen
between
Hart and me. And I did need to talk to Hart before I assumed to
know his reasoning, though I wasn’t sure I could do that today. I needed to get my emotions under control first.

Six days
was affecting me in the worst way. Even worse now that Gerald had left me the voicemail.

I didn’t want to take any of that out on Hart.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You knew all of this already. You just needed to hear me say it.”

“I miss you so much, Brady.” Tears rose without warning, but I smiled through them.

“I love you, too. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Nothing could keep me away,” I said.

I held the phone in my hand even after we’d hung up, feeling the warmth of it as though it was Brady’s hand in mine. Then I
pulled up Hart’s name and hit the button to start a text. I composed it carefully, making sure it wouldn’t come across as a screaming accusation.

Me:
Won’t be coming to work today and I won’t be back to the house tonight.

Hart:
Are you okay?

Me:
Not feeling so great.

Hart:
Do you need to go to the doctor? I can take you if you want…

I should have known he would have asked that. He wanted to take care of me—as always. It didn’t make sense; he was so caring,
so giving, and yet he hadn’t felt secure enough to share our
relationship with his family.

Me:
No doctor needed, but thanks.

Hart:
Then what can I do to make you feel better?

He could have ensured his mom knew who I was, that she hadn’t mistaken me for Maria or Mary…or even Marlene. My hands
shook as I thought about the way she had looked at me, and the tone of her voice when she spat those ugly words.

Yes. I definitely needed more time to cool off before I spoke to him.

Hart:
?

Me:
Doubt I’ll be into work tomorrow either. Not sure if I have sick days yet so just hold my pay until I come back.

Hart:
Rae, what the hell is going on? I’m worried about you now.

Me:
Don’t be. I’ll text you tomorrow morning.

Hart:
Call me instead. Please.

I let him have the last word.

***

Several hours later, Shane walked through the door, carrying two plastic grocery bags and a twelve-pack. There had only been
two beers
in his fridge; I’d already downed both. He placed the bags on the
counter
and removed two beers from the case. He twisted off the caps,
handed me one and joined me on the couch.

“I lied to my boss for you today,” he said.

We both took a sip, mine a little longer than his. “I’m sorry,
Shane. I never wanted you to get in the middle of this.”

Since I was sitting in his usual spot, he took the one next to me, reclined into the cushions and put his feet on the other side of the
table.
We’d sat like this many times over the years. It had been a while,
though. Too long, probably.

“You know I’d do anything for you.” His calm, compassionate hand went to my shoulder. “Shit gets messy when it involves my job, though.”

“You won’t ever have to lie for me again
—
I promise. Everything between us will all be fixed soon…however it ends up.”

He nodded. “I stopped by your uncle’s store to get the groceries and beer. He asked about you and said you haven’t been in lately to visit him.” His fingers squeezed gently. “I know you’ve got your issues with him and your mom, and I understand why, but he’s
shaken up
over Darren’s birthday, too.” He exhaled, the beer on his breath mingling with the other scents in the room. “Maybe you should just
pop in there and say hello, just to put him at ease.”