September Rain Bk 2, Savor The Days Series (22 page)

22

—
Angel

My unseeing eyes stare at the air of
the interview room, still caught in that moment beside Jake. I can
smell his deodorant. He didn’t wear cologne very often, so that was
the most recognizable scent. And he always smelled so good. I can’t
even describe it, because I haven’t been around anything scented in
a long time. It was just a Jake smell.

Without thinking, I try to raise the
wrong hand, to run it through my hair, but just feel the cuff
cutting into my wrist. My other hand is still free but any sense of
freedom that lingered in my memory disappears, replaced with bitter
resentment.

“I’m pretty sure that all of this is
my mothers’ fault. Because of her, I have been trapped my entire
life.”

Some people choose to take a lonely
path because they like the solitude, but some people have no
choice. Some people just live a loveless life: they can’t pass on
what they don’t have and so, remain alone. Even after they get
married and long after they have kids.

It’s not a crime to live without love;
it’s just a shitty road to take. My mother didn’t love herself so
she couldn’t love me. It’s that simple.

Taking a deep breath, I let the words
I usually keep down, surface with my anger. “She treated me like
her perfect little doll: comb my hair, put me in pretty dresses,
but don’t feed me. Don’t listen to me. Definitely don’t talk to me,
because that might make you want to care. No. Just set me in the
car. Don’t let me buckle up. And drive as fast as you can straight
into a tree.”

What recourse is there when the people
who brought you into the world reject you? You’re small, helpless,
and have no way of knowing that life should be
different.

There was nothing to do but
try to deal with being born to a father I never met and a mother
who tried to kill me when she killed herself. The part that really
eats away at me is that I don’t think she put that much thought
into it. For all I know she had no plans to include me at all. I
was an afterthought. She decided to drive off an embankment into
the trees, and on her way to the car she saw me and thought,
“oh yeah, I should do something about
that.”
How pathetic is it that I want to
think she cared enough to plan to my murder?

Love is the most wonderful and
powerful force on earth. It’s the drug that gives you the most
powerful highs and lowest lows. It means the most to people like
me, who grew up deprived. And when you’re young and desperate, and
you’re presented with something you want, you don’t think twice
about it. You take it without even knowing what it means. Life with
the boy you love, who has no idea he barely knows you—that you
barely know yourself?

Take it.
Don’t think twice about what it means to run off
a two months before you turn eighteen, to turn your back on the one
woman who spent the last year nurturing and caring for you without
a second thought. Leave the only friend you ever had to move off to
a place you know nothing about.
Do it for
the boy.

Jake was that important. I didn’t
think twice. Not an ounce of apprehension after those first five
seconds of shock.

With Jake, I felt truly
loved by the one person that mattered more than any other and
having that was like . . . oxygen or sunlight. I depended on it. As
long as I had him, I knew whatever we came across we’d be fine and
I gave it no more thought beyond those three
words—
he loved me
.

+++

Jake showed up twenty-five minutes
after he got off work—a whopping nine minutes after the Foster left
for her graveyard shift at the confection factory.

When I opened the front door, he was
just climbing out of the van. I stepped out onto the porch wearing
a bright yellow sundress. It wasn’t really my style, but Jake liked
that the straps tied up on my shoulders. He was freshly showered
and carrying two forty-ounce bottles of beer.

“Contributing to a minor?” I teased
taking the sweating bottles from him when he reached the
porch.

“That’s nothing new.” He tugged at the
ties on my shoulders with his newly freed hands and smirked. “So,
Austen’s home?”

Both of us turned to the curb out in
front of the trailer, where Austen’s faded gold Mustang was so
obviously parked. “Yup.”

“Damn.”

I put the beer in the fridge and
stirred the sauce that was warming on the stove. As I plunked the
spaghetti noodles into the pot of boiling water, the echoing riff
of Rush’s Dreamline began drifting from the living room. I glanced
back to see Jake moving from the Fosters stereo cabinet. My heart
thundered at the sultry way he strolled towards me. It was slow and
deliberately provocative the way he lifted the front of his shirt
to touch his stomach.

“Honey, you cooked?” His dark grin
made my insides melt.

“Oh yeah. You know me.” My sarcasm was
obvious. I couldn’t do much beyond boiling water.

The Foster made the sauce after she
got up that afternoon. I had already eaten with her and Austen, but
I guessed that Jake would be hungry when he came over.

Jake crept up behind me, taking me by
the waist, and kissing my neck and shoulders while I tried to
prepare a plate for him.

“This foods gonna end up on the
floor.” I sighed, leaning into his chest. The plate
teetered.

Jake stepped back and eased into a
dining chair at the small table in the kitchen. He said nothing,
but slowly looked me up and down. I tried to focus on the food, but
the heat he exuded had my blood blazing.

“Hey, man.” Austen greeted, appearing
from the hallway.

Jake halted his visual groping,
releasing me from the spell, and turned to greet my foster brother.
I took advantage of the clarity and drizzled a little olive oil
over the noodles, followed by a sprinkling of salt and pepper
before hitting them with the sauce. It was the way his mom served
it when I went over for dinner once. I remembered because it was
odd to me that she kept the noodles separate. I’d never had it like
that before.

Jake got a very goofy smile as I set
the plate in front of him. Like his face was made of taffy, it
softened and pulled further than I had ever seen.

I poured some beer in a glass and
grabbed a napkin before setting them in front of him and taking my
seat.

“You know how I like my spaghetti.” He
set his napkin in his lap and started twirling his fork. “Thank
you, baby.”

“You’re welcome.”

Austen was on the couch, folded over
to tie his shoes.

“You want some beer?” Jake offered,
nudging my arm.

“Nah, man. I’m leaving.” Austen got up
and walked back towards his room. A minute later, he was back,
standing in the mouth of the hallway, staring into the open kitchen
at Jake and me. His car keys jingled in his hand.

Jake waived—his mouth full of food.
Austen waived back and locked his stare on me. “I’ll be back in a
while.” He turned towards the door then paused. “My mom’s not off
until seven.”

Jakes eyes widened. “Seven in the
morning?”

Austen kept his eyes on the door in
front of him as he explained. “They got everybody pulling overtime
for the next couple weeks.” With that, he stepped out the
door.

“He’s still with that
girl?”

“Sheila. Yeah.”

“Good for him.” Jake took his empty
plate over to the sink and set it inside. “Come here,” Jake
commanded, using that sexy, stern voice of his as he leaned against
the counter.

I walked over, but not fast enough.
Hooking the tie of my dress strap with his hand, Jake pulled me
closer. When I leaned into him, he widened his stance, making his
tall frame shorter than usual. I got up on my toes to kiss him as
he set his arms around me. I felt every ridge and ripple of his
lean body through his Ozzy t-shirt and sank my nose into the smooth
cotton and inhaled. He always smelled so good.

“Did you tell Deanna?”

I almost laughed. “No.”

“Why not?”

I pulled back to look, alarmed by his
suddenly wounded tone. Sure enough, his forehead was
creased.

“What if she tries to stop
me?”

He shook his head. “It’s not right.
She’s been good to you, Angel. She’ll be worried. You need to tell
her.”

All the air left my body. “What am I
supposed to say? My boyfriend wants me to skip out on my graduation
to follow him across state lines?”

“That’s a start, but you might also
mention that I love you and how we’re in a committed relationship.”
He slipped his hands into my hair, cradling my head. “I have every
intention of taking care of you. I’ll be there with you, if you
want. We can tell her together.”

“She’s going to say no. She doesn’t
like me going to see you play. How do you think she’s going to
react when I tell her I’m moving away with you?”

Jake sighed. “Angel. Think about it.
What she says doesn’t matter. It’s the principle. If you and me are
doing this, we’re doing it right. You have to give her the respect
she deserves as the woman who took you in. You may not like what
she thinks, but you have to let her voice it. Besides, she’s a
reasonable person. She didn’t try to stop you from seeing me, did
she?”

“Well . . . no.”

“Even though she doesn’t approve,
because she understands she can’t control you like
that.”

“
But what if she doesn’t
understand this time?”

“We can explain it to her. Baby, I
can’t risk cops chasing me across the state. It’s bad
PR.”

As soon as he said it, something
clicked. “You talked to Pierce about me?”

He tightened his hold on my waist. “Of
course I did. He’s trying hard to sign us and . . .”

I waited for him to finish. When he
didn’t, I asked, “And?”

“And that scares the shit out of
me.”

I looked up, touched his
chin. “
Scares
? I
thought you wanted it?”

“I shouldn’t be concerned about
someone offering me fame and fortune on a silver
platter?”

What he said caught up to me. “He
tried to sign you already!’ I swatted at his arm, “Didn’t he?” Jake
shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Did you turn him
down?”

“No, but I haven’t agreed. I need to
know more: what he’s about, what he can offer us. I’d be stupid to
take him at his word.”

“So he’s pushing?”

“Kind of.” He took a hand from my hair
and set it on the back of his neck, rubbing the stress. “I’m not
comfortable with the contract. The way some of its’ worded. And
it’s fucking huge, Angel. Pages and pages of legal bullshit. How am
I supposed to understand what I’m signing? I told Pierce, I want to
keep doing what I’m doing—I have to maintain our sound. I can’t
sign something that will make me change. I can’t have a team of
people putting their stamp on my music to dissect and sell. I have
to do it my own way and they want me to sign it all
away.”

I thought for a second. “So Max and
Andrew . . . ?”

“He talked to them before me. I’m the
hold-out.”

“Wow.” I thought over what that meant.
He was living with two anxious, persistent, musicians who wanted
exactly what Jake wanted. “He talked to them. Before you? And he
knows you write the songs?”

“Of course.”

“Jake, there has gotta be other labels
sniffing around.”

“I haven’t heard anything.”

“Well, there is a reason he’s
pressuring you. You’re smart to wait. You need someone who
understands contract law to make sure you’re protected. How much
does it cost to get someone to explain something like
that?”

He sighed, setting his forehead on
mine. “If it’s this much weight just being approached . . .”
Tucking me into his chest, he breathed in my hair. “You’re the only
one who gets it.”

I looked into his eyes and felt the
words bubble up from the truest part of me. “I love you, Jake. I
want what’s best for you. And I’m so happy that you asked me to go
with you.” My hands stretched around his back.

“Are you kidding?” His hazel eyes
smoldered like coals over his black t-shirt. “I can’t believe I had
to ask.”

“What?”

His lips stretched a little, like he
was trying to hold back a laugh. “Naturally, I assumed you were
coming. I mean, why the hell would I go without you? But you never
said anything and you started getting more headaches and acting
weird. I wondered if it was because I didn’t come right out and say
what I thought was obvious. Then, when you came by my job, I
figured better to be safe than sorry.”

He dropped his hands, his forehead
crinkled. “You were surprised, I could tell. Angel, why didn’t you
know?” My lips trembled as he cupped my face. “Because you should
know by now, baby.”

“Know what?”

“That I’d never leave you
behind.”