Save Me (Elk Creek) (7 page)

             
I waded in until the water was at my ankles, and brushed my feet against the sandy bottom. When I was here, it was really the only time that I could let thoughts of my Dad creep in.  I missed him; missed his dry sense of humor, his nerdy polo shirts and glasses, the notes he always left on the fridge for me. I missed his hugs and the way he would always make me feel courageous, capable, and like I was the most cherished girl in the world.

             
A burst of anger suddenly hit me, and I thought of how one person, one moment in time, one circumstance, or one choice could change the lives of others forever. God, I despised Malcolm McCarty, I wished…

             
“Hey, what are you doing out here?”

I spun around with a start, and ca
me chest to face with none other than Carter Belmont.

             
“Jesus, do you have to scare me every time you talk?” I snapped, jutting my chin up at him. And, dear lord, was it a ways up. My nose only came to the middle of his chest. His size alone should have intimidated me. For some reason, I wasn’t intimidated, but irritated.

             
He laughed lightly, looking down at me. I took a step back, and the smell of him could seriously have driven me crazy. It was a clean, outdoorsy smell, almost like he had been out chopping wood or something. I liked it, I liked it more than I should have, and that bothered me.  I was completely unfamiliar and untried when it came to men. These feelings that I found myself having were a little concerning.

             
“Do you have to get scared every time I talk?” he asked with a smirk.

             
I scowled at him. “What can I say? I’m afraid of stupidity,” I smirked back. What a jerk!  What a handsome jerk!

             
He was laughing, actually full on belly laughing. I stood there watching with disbelief. I loved his laugh, it was rich and hearty. The light in his eyes was intoxicating, I thought this might have been the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Jesus, really? Did I really just think that? Holy crap, if I weren’t already crazy, I sure was now. I needed to get away from him and regain what sanity I had left.

             
“You are quite the smartass, aren’t you?” he asked between chortles. I hadn’t even responded to that when he continued, “You and I are going to get along great, little one.”               “Little one? Did you just call me little one?” I said with indignation. Really, who did he think he was? Mega jerk, that was who.

             
“Well, you are little,” he said simply. He was still grinning. I wanted to smack it off his face. I lied earlier—I hated his smile. Well, that was a lie, but it sounded good.

             
“Who the heck isn’t little compared to you?” he asked. “You’re like your own species.”  His grin got bigger.

D
ammit, I did not like it, he was not handsome. I kept telling myself that, but it wasn’t helping.

             
“You’re a little spitfire too, I like it.” 

I swear
, if he said “little” one more time, I was gonna deck him. Given his size, and he was probably hard as a frickin rock, I’d probably just break my hand. I decided not to say any more, obviously talking to him was only encouraging him. I pursed my lips closed and tried to direct my gaze anywhere other than his chiseled chest and shoulders.

             
“Are you going to tell me what you were doing way down here?” he asked again, breaking the momentary silence.

             
I let out a long, insufferable sigh. “If you must know, I just needed space. I like it here, it’s quiet. Well, it
was
quiet, I should say.”

             
“Do you mind if I hang out in your quiet place?” he asked, and darn if he didn’t seem sincere.

             
“Sure, just please don’t scare me. I’d hate to have to really put the hurt on you.” I gave the meanest face I could muster, and it must not have been effective because he just chuckled.

             
We walked down the shore for quite a while, one of his long, confident strides equaling two of mine. I was surprised that I was really enjoying his quiet company. He was different from Ethan in that I felt more like an equal with him, not like a child. It was actually quite freeing. I allowed myself to relax and listen to the soft noises surrounding us: the lapping of water on the shore, the call of songbirds overhead, our feet crunching into the sand—his loud and even, mine soft and lopsided.

             
I was baffled by my comfort with him. Usually I wouldn’t go anywhere near anyone who wasn’t family—especially some behemoth of a man.

             
“What size shoe do you wear?” I blurted out of nowhere. Good grief.

             
“Uh… fourteen, why?” he asked, looking caught off guard.

             
“I was just curious,” I quickly shrugged. “I was thinking you were more than twice my size, and I wondered if your feet were in proportion with your body.” Did I really just say that out loud?

             
“I honestly don’t think I have ever been asked that by a girl before,” he mused.

             
“Glad I could be your first,” I said. He gave me a look, and I’m not sure I could name it, but if he were a wild, carnivorous animal, I think he would have eaten me.

             
He cleared his throat. “Do you think we should head back? I don’t want Ethan to think I kidnapped you or something.”

             
I sighed. “I suppose, although after tonight I might pay you to kidnap me,” I muttered.

             
“Oh?” he quirked his brow.

             
“You know a person can really get a crick in her neck looking at you?” I deflected his question. I couldn’t believe I said that.

             
“Well, how about instead of me kidnapping you, you come over for dinner? Then your brother won’t try to kill me, and I don’t run the risk of a prison sentence,” he said. His hands stayed at his sides, but his eyes, those eyes, were imploring.

             
Well, wasn’t this fan-frickin-tastic?

Chapter 5- Carter

              God, she was cute. And witty, too. She was a firecracker, all right. I hadn’t laughed like that in forever. I looked down at her and a bright crimson blush had reddened her face. I knew I put her on the spot, but I wanted to ask her out, and knew from the incident at the diner that it would be a safer bet to ask her over to my house, rather than a public place.

             
I kept thinking about what Ethan had said to me earlier. After we cleaned up the food mess, Ethan had grabbed my arm, and started pushing me outside.

             
“I need a word,” was all he said, and not wanting to make an issue of it, I allowed him to drag me out. Once out of earshot, and with Mr. Dalton looking on with a bewildered expression, Ethan turned on me.

             
“Look, I don’t know what is going on between you and my sister. Normally, I would just kick your fucking ass for touching her, but the fact that she let you touch her is what’s holding me back,” he said, studying me intently. 

             
“What do you mean, she’s letting me touch her?” I asked, not quite understanding.

             
He let out a long breath, ran his hands over his face and looked back to me. “Man, it’s just what I said. She let you touch her. Normally, if someone she isn’t real familiar with—and I mean like anyone other than her family—touches her, she will panic. The fact that she didn’t go into a real panic then when you startled her, or even when you touched her, well, that is the first time that’s happened.”

             
I didn’t know what he meant by her not panicking when I scared her. It sure as shit looked like she panicked to me.

             
“I’m not sure why or how, but she is obviously comfortable around you. But… if you are going to hang with her, you need to know a few things.” His eyes turned hard and his jaw tensed. “She is not like normal girls. If you hurt her in anyway, God help me, I will kill you. She has dealt with enough shit, and if I hadn’t seen the way she reacted with you, I wouldn’t risk it.”

Ethan
started to bounce on his toes, and I couldn’t tell if he was nervous or agitated. Sensing this conversation would be lengthy and wanting him to keep his shit together, I told him, “I’ll be right back.” I gestured with my pointer finger in the air to show that it would only take me one minute.

             
I quickly walked to the coolers, pulled out two icy beers, and grabbed two folding chairs on my way back. He was still bouncing when I got back to him, so I handed him the beer, set up the chairs and said, “Sit the fuck down and just get it out.” He was starting to make me nervous.

             
After Ethan sat and took a swig of his beer, he started talking. “I’m going to tell you some things about Tare, and if you think you can’t handle them, please don’t pursue anything with her.” I nodded, wanting him to continue. “She panics from a lot of different things, but the main triggers are swearing, mostly “fuck,” but other words will sometimes do it, too. She doesn’t do public places well, as you saw yesterday. She can’t go into a crowded place, she hasn’t even been into a store in more than two years. The last time was a total clusterfuck, and she passed out in front of a slew of shoppers. Not only that—God, she’d kill me if she knew I was saying this— but you need know.” Ethan puffed up his cheeks with air then blew it out in a short burst. “She… um, pissed herself, right there in the entry of a Walmart, of all places. She was embarrassed for weeks, and refused to leave her room.” 

He looked at me to make sure I was
still following. I could see his distress over telling me these things. I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

             
“She hates being treated like a child,” he continued. “She thinks I have given up my life or some shit. She wants to do things on her own, but you have to understand, she can’t. At least not right now, she can’t be left alone.”

Ethan was
adamant about telling me this. I didn’t quite get why, but it was not really the time to question.

             
“She can’t stand the dark, or to be touched by someone she doesn’t know. She also has a limp. She tries to hide it, and she will never admit when she is in pain. It’s one of those things I have to watch for, and try to rein her in when she’s taken it too far. She has pride, Carter. It kills her to be, as she puts it, babysat.”

             
“What caused the limp?” I asked.

             
He was quiet for a moment, and I saw sadness and pain, then rage in is expression. He sat straight up, looked at me and the cold fury in his eyes was unsettling. “She was shot.” He spit it out.

             
It took me a second to comprehend what he just said. “What?!” I burst out. I couldn’t help it. I stood up, not being able to control the instant panic that hit me. Shot? What the fuck?  How the fuck? WHO THE FUCK? 

A burst of heat propelled through my chest
, and I felt the need to crush something. My vision grew hazy for a moment as my brain ran through all the emotions it knew—not one seemed to process how someone could hurt Taryn on purpose. Ethan met my gaze, and I saw in his eyes exactly what I was feeling.

             
“How?” was all I could manage to verbalize.

             
“I made a promise to my sister that some things were between us, and unless she decides to tell you, I can’t break this with her,” he replied. He looked solemn, and I think he wanted to tell me, but he was obviously devoted to Taryn, and I couldn’t fault him for that. But, Jesus, I needed to know. I had to know. Did she have an abusive boyfriend? I couldn’t imagine Ethan letting someone hurt her, but maybe that was why he was so overprotective. I just didn’t know.

             
“Just tell me this: does any of this have to do with your Dad?” I asked, watching his reaction.

             
He closed his eyes, and hung his head in—what? Defeat? Remorse? I wasn’t sure.

             
“Yes.” It was almost a whisper. 

             
I sat back down in the chair and let out the breath I’d been holding. Some of the tension left my body, but more questions circled in my mind. What would their dad have to do with her getting shot? Did he go crazy and shoot his own kid? The questions that I desperately wanted answers to would not stop invading my head. I had to grit my teeth to stop myself from voicing them. I didn’t think Ethan would answer them, and he looked too forlorn to press.

             
  I couldn’t help but feel connected to Ethan. I didn’t think it was a remnant of our childhood, but more from the respect and awe I felt for him. What these two must have gone through was staggering to think about. 

             
“What exactly do you want with my sister, Carter?” he asked, still with his head bowed.

             
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I didn’t even know the answer myself. I decided to give him honesty—how could I not with all he’d told me?

             
“Honestly, Ethan, I don’t know,” I said quietly. “I am attracted to her, but it’s not just that. I feel drawn to her, I can’t explain it. Hell, I don’t even understand what it is,” I paused for a moment, trying to think of the right words to truthfully explain what I was feeling. “I know you only told me this because you felt you had no choice, but I am grateful you did. I would like to get to know her, and you, for that matter. But I also don’t want to hurt her or be the cause of her panic.”

             
Since leaving Florida, and after dealing with Felicia, I never wanted to get involved with anyone again. But this felt completely different. It felt overwhelming, and butt-fuck crazy, but also it felt right. 

             
Ethan looked up and scrutinized me again. I knew he was gauging my sincerity, and only thinking of his sister, so it didn’t really bother me. I sat silently, not looking away, waiting for him to say something.

             
“Okay, as long as she wants you around, I’m okay with it. Just know that she is the most important thing in my life, and if you hurt her, you will regret it,” he said with determination, and I would be smart to assume he was serious. I might have been bigger, maybe even a better fighter, but I would be a fucking idiot to underestimate Ethan Dalton.

             
“Yeah, I get it, man. The last thing I want to do is hurt her,” I replied.

             
“Okay, well, I think I’m gonna get another beer. You want one?” he asked as he stood up.

             
“No, I think I’ll just hang out here for a while.”

             
“All right, just holler if you need anything,” he said as he walked away.

             
I needed to process everything he had told me, and calm down enough before I was fit to be around other people. I walked around a while contemplating, thinking, and eventually clearing my head. I saw Taryn walking down the sloped yard and hesitated only for a moment before deciding to follow her. I didn’t want to startle her, but I felt so drawn to the connection I felt when I grasped her hands.

             
I could see the limp, but it did nothing to distract me from her backside. Good lord, coming and going the girl looked hot. She had on shorts, so I could see just how curvy she was.  Her legs were slender, and looked toned. She had great legs. Her curly hair was loose, and I was surprised to see how long it actually was. It was like a yellow curtain that flowed down to the top of her shorts, and I wanted to touch it, to see if it was as soft as it looked.

             
I followed her to the lake, and as she stood at the shore, I watched her, wondering what she was thinking. Calling myself crazy for wanting to get involved with this girl, yet unable to stop myself, I walked toward her.

             
“Why exactly do you want to have dinner with me?” Startled from my woolgathering, I looked to Taryn, trying to assemble an answer.

             
“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked.

             
“Don’t answer my question with a question.  It’s deflecting, and some might consider it rude,” she snapped at me. She looked pissed, and maybe a bit hurt. Shit, I was fucking this up already.

             
“Taryn, I would like to get to know you,” I said, deciding plain old honesty was the best route. “I thought having dinner would be a good place to start. I promise not to kidnap you,” I said with a grin, trying to ease the tension. I really wanted her to say yes.

             
Her face was scrunched up in concentration, but her eyes were wide, and I could see although she was calculating, she was nervous.

             
“You look like you’re trying to solve world hunger or something,” I said. “It’s just dinner and talking, Taryn,” I said, trying to alleviate her obvious turmoil.

             
“Um, who will be there?” she asked, looking down and fidgeting with her fingers. I wanted her to look at me, so I slowly cupped her chin and lifted her face to meet mine. She was so small and feminine. I just wanted to take care of her, make her happy. God, I must have been going bat-shit crazy, no other explanation for it.

             
“Just you and me, unless you would rather have someone else come, too,” I said, knowing she might feel more comfortable if Ethan came.

             
“When?”

             
“Well, when are you available?” I asked.

             
“Friday,” she blurted out, and I thought I saw a little excitement flitter in her eyes. It gave me hope.

             
“Okay, Friday at seven all right?”

             
“Yes,” she replied firmly, and she gave me the brightest smile I had ever seen. It knocked the breath out of me. It wasn’t just her mouth that smiled, but her whole face. Her eyes illuminated with light and little creases appeared in her forehead, somehow imperfect and ridiculously perfect both at once. A breeze passed and rustled her curtain of golden hair. I smiled back at her, as there was no helping whatever this was between us, and hell if I gave a shit right now. Not with this girl, whose smile ensnared me and whose soft hair I wanted to wind around and around my fingers. I was so fucked, it wasn’t funny.

             
Feeling emboldened by the tingle her smile had ignited in my gut, I grabbed her hand and turned back toward the house. Her palm felt warm and smooth. “Let’s go back, before Ethan decides I have kidnapped you,” I said, and was happy when she clasped my hand back.

             
As we made our way, I noticed that she was much slower than I was. She was a lot shorter than me, but I could see tension on her face as we started to climb the sloped yard. I knew her speed had more to do with her limp than with her height. I didn’t even ask Ethan where exactly she had been shot, and since I didn’t see any scars on her legs at least the parts that weren’t covered, I assumed it was either her upper thigh or hip area.