The Best I Could (31 page)

Eli’s free hand came up, his thumb caressing
my cheek. “You’re afraid of me.”

I could deny it, but I didn’t. “Yeah, I
am.”

The hand Eli had on my thigh moved, his
fingers brushing the cuts. “I asked you to give me the person you
are, and you have. I expect the fear.”

My eyes widened. “You think you understand
what I’m afraid of?”

“Do you?”

It was a humbling question.

Eli

The moment in the ring was supposed to be
about Tansy. It was supposed to get things in the open, tear her
walls down so she’d quit harming herself.

Instead, it was
our
moment. By tearing her
walls down, I’d ended up tearing down mine. All of the prejudice
I’d had about tears. All these ideas I had about people and women.
About life and what it stood for.

When Tansy collapsed, her tears soaking my
shirt, she saw a weak girl. I’d never seen anyone stronger. She’d
stopped crying years ago, not because she couldn’t cry, but because
she’d needed the strength to survive. Let’s face it, tears
exhausted a person, and there’d been no room for exhaustion in her
life at the time.

When I put on a pair of boxing gloves and
stepped into a ring, I left the fight there. I came out of it with
my usual Eli-ness. My resentment of people, at how awful they could
be. At my mother for what she’d done, and Mandy for the type of
girl she’d turned out to be, but I still left my ultimate fight in
the ring.

Tansy put on a pair of boxing gloves three
years ago and never took them off. She never stopped fighting.
There was no down time. No getting out of the ring and leaving
stuff behind, and now she didn’t know how to quit fighting.

Most eye-opening moment of the day. Drum roll
please.

I was fucking falling for
Tansy Griffin because of
all
of it. Because of her strengths and her
weaknesses.

In my gut and my heart, Tansy was mine now,
and damn if that didn’t tear me a new one. Trust wasn’t something I
did easily, but needing her to trust me had caused me to trust
her.

Funny how I’d fought so hard not to let
people in. Even with Mandy, I’d never really said, “I love you.”
She said it, but I always answered with, “Me, too” or “Right back
at ya”.

Now, when I realized I wanted to say those
words to Tansy, I couldn’t.

Saying them would send her running.

My hand splayed against her leg, my fingers
sliding under the hem of her shorts. “What are you really afraid
of, Tansy? Falling in love or losing the people you love?”

Please don’t pull away from me, roof
girl.

She held perfectly still, her hand resting on
my leg. We’d sunk to the floor after she started crying, her body
caged by mine.

“I need a minute … I need to take this slow,”
she whispered.

I knew by the way she looked at me that she
wasn’t talking about the physical stuff. She meant the
emotional.

The angry Eli reared his head, sending
irritation radiating through me. “Taking it slow isn’t worth shit
when you’re never going to move past the beginning.”

She blanched.

I cursed under my breath. “Tansy—”

Her hand eased up my neck, her fingers
sliding into my hair, her nails scraping my scalp, pulling me
toward her.

She kissed me, her lips full and soft, and I
sank into them.

Her mouth opened, her tongue touching mine,
and I was lost, her boldness sending heat to my groin.

All of my good intentions went to hell, but
my dick rose to heaven. The hand on her thigh tightened, my other
hand gripping her head, her hair tangling around my fingers,
deepening the kiss.

Rising, I pushed her back onto the floor of
the ring, my body hovering over hers, my hands playing with all of
her; her hair, her neck, and her breasts.

She groaned, hunger burning in her eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” I heard myself say. My
lips found her neck, my tongue teasing her skin. “All of you.”

Her hand rubbed my back, her fingers curling
into my shirt, her legs wrapping around me. I could feel her heart
against my chest, beating hard, the pulse in her neck speeding
up.

Suddenly, I felt like we were on the roof of
the hospital again. Me, resentful and looking for space. Her,
afraid and looking for freedom. Two souls hanging over the
world.

Lifting my head, I started to speak when
Tansy stopped me.

“Don’t say anything,” she begged.

“Is there anything I could say that won’t
make you run?” I asked her.

She sighed. “Just do what you’re doing
now.”

My hard dick rested against the apex of her
thighs, and I laughed shortly. “Sweetheart, if I keep doing what
I’m doing now, I’m going to finish this, and I don’t bring condoms
to the gym.”

Reaching down between us, she touched me
through my shorts, and I hissed in a breath, pressing myself
against her hand.

“Then soon?” she asked.

My hand found the place between her legs, and
her body arched. “Soon,” I promised.

Pounding on the door filled the gym, but we
didn’t move.

“You’re not going to let me say it, are you?”
I asked.

“No,” she replied, diverting her gaze. “I’m
doing the best I c—” She froze, her eyes widening.

“The best you can,” I finished.

A tear slid from the corner of her eye,
trickling down into her hairline, and I knew by the look in her
eyes that those words had never treated her well.

“You’re not going to leave here and cut
yourself, are you?” I asked.

She didn’t answer me, and I knew it was
because she couldn’t promise me she wouldn’t. Emotions ate up this
room, and emotion was something she’d learned to fight against. She
understood pain better. Pain she could control.

“If you can’t tell me you won’t, then you
need help, Tansy. Help I don’t know how to give.”

Her gaze met mine. “I know.”

I rolled off of her, our hands falling away
from each other, leaving me cold and helpless. “Hetty—

“Will you come with me to talk to her?” Tansy
interrupted.

Possessive tenderness invaded me, catching me
off guard.

She’s mine,
I thought.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I promised.

The pounding on the door grew louder, more
insistent.

“That condom,” she said abruptly. “Make sure
you have it next time.”

My roof girl and her glorious contradictions.
Bold and sweet. Witty and smart. Weak and strong. She needed help I
couldn’t give her, but the same could be said for me.

“I’m going to talk to Nana tonight,” she
promised, worry lines streaking her face.

My forehead fell against hers. “I’ll be
there.”

Knocking echoed around us, and I stood,
offering her my hand. She accepted it. I wasn’t sure where we went
from here, but holding her hand felt good. New, even though I’d
held her hand before.

These clasped hands connected more than our
bodies.

I was fucked, plain and simple. This was
either going to be the best ride of my life or the hardest fall I’d
ever taken.

Tansy

My heart pounded.

Thud, thud, thud …

So loud I couldn’t hear myself think. So loud
that the only thing I wanted to do was release the fear I felt.

I hadn’t realized just how good the first
three times I cut felt until the moment I needed to come clean
about it.

I also hadn’t realized how much I hated
admitting I was wrong.

My room, one small cut on my outer right
thigh, and I still didn’t feel any better. I needed a deeper cut
and more blood, but a car pulled into the driveway, headlights
flashing, stopping me.

Eli. He kept his word.

Relief mingled with nerves, the emotions
colored by something deeper, by the affection I felt for Eli. He
had become important to me, and that terrified me more than the
prospect of talking to my grandmother.

A knock sounded, murmuring voices reaching me
through the door.

“Tansy!” Hetty called. “You’ve got
company.”

Glancing at Snow, who was curled up next to
me, I asked, “You ready for this?”

She lifted her head, sniffed the air, and
then laid her head back down again.

“Traitor,” I murmured, trying to find
something light in a moment I knew wasn’t remotely close to
light.

Covering the new wound, I walked out of the
bedroom to find Hetty standing in the living room, her wary gaze on
Eli. I should have prepared her for this meeting, but I’d been
unable to find the words. My mind had been fighting a conflicting
battle all afternoon, finally ending with the new cut, sharp pain,
and a moment of clarity.

“Please tell me he’s not here because you’re
pregnant,” Hetty said, glancing at me.

My cheeks reddened, and I tugged at the hem
of my navy blue cotton shorts. An oversized T-shirt fell off of my
shoulder.

“I’m not pregnant,” I mumbled.

She knew I wasn’t. Eli and I hadn’t been
acquainted long enough for that to happen, but it was a creative
way for her to find out if I’d had sex with him.

Hetty exhaled, a suspicious smile playing on
her lips. “Then I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

She started to walk into the kitchen, but I
stopped her. “No, wait. I do need to talk to you about something,
though.”

Eli sat on the sofa, ignoring the death glare
Hetty sent his way when he took a seat. He patted the place next to
him, and I joined him, my knees pressed together, my hands clasping
them.

Hetty’s expression changed. “This looks
serious.”

“It’s actually not that bad—”

Eli threw me a look, silencing me. “Show
her.”

I think he knew I’d never be able to say it
out loud.

Hetty joined us, sitting in an armchair
across from the couch. “What’s going on?”

I pulled my shorts leg up, revealing the
gashes in my left thigh, took a deep breath, and pulled up the
right side.

Eli inhaled sharply. I didn’t look at
him.

Hetty stared at my legs, her eyes wide,
horror-struck. The cuts weren’t deep enough for stitches, but they
were impressive. The length of my middle finger and deep enough to
draw blood, they left a stark mark.

“Tansy,” Hetty finally whispered. “What have
you done?”

A lump formed in my throat. “It feels good,”
I admitted.

Eli’s hand found my knee, squeezing it.

“You,” Hetty hissed, her gaze rising to his.
“You taught her this!”

“No!” I protested, putting a stop to that
line of thought. “Technically, it started with my piercings,” I
told her, flushing. “When I was seeing this guy, Jeff, I got my
nose pierced, and I liked the pain. With everything going on at
home … I went back for more piercings, my ears this time, and did a
few of them on my own.” I swallowed hard, Eli’s hand a welcome
pressure on my leg. “I’m not saying that the piercings were the
same thing as … you know. I just mean that while most people want
piercings for aesthetic reasons, I wanted them because I liked how
they hurt. How I felt better afterward.”

“But this.” Hetty gestured at my legs.

“Those felt way better than the piercings,” I
let slip, still riding the euphoria from the most recent cut.

“Tansy,” Hetty continued to stare. “Why would
you do this? They could get infected! You could cut too deep or in
the wrong place …” She gasped. “Were you trying to kill
yourself?”

Hetty wasn’t taking this well. She tapped her
knees, her fingers drumming out the beat to “When The Saints Go
Marching In”.

“I’m not suicidal,” I breathed, my voice
dropping.

“She’s coming to you for help, Mrs.
Anderson,” Eli explained, sitting up.

The door to the house burst open, and Deena
popped into the living room, her eyes bright. “I saw Jonathan’s
car—”

She stopped short, her gaze falling on
us.

“Just me,” Eli said, raising his hand in
greeting. “I drove the Porsche.”

Hetty turned her disapproving gaze on him.
“Your license is suspended.”

“I know.”

Deena stared at me, and I realized her gaze
had dropped to my exposed legs, her eyes widening. “Oh my God!”

Grabbing the hem of my shorts, I yanked them
down. “Deena, it’s not what it looks like—”

“What is it supposed to look like?” she
asked, appalled.

“They’re just cuts,” I inserted quickly.
“Just something I did—”

“Something you did?” she
interrupted, laughing, the sound tinged with madness. “To
yourself?” Her head shook. “You
are
a freak,” she gasped. “They were right about you
all along.” Fury filled her face. “Are you that much like Dad,
Tansy?’

She was screaming, the sound drawing the
attention of the cats, who shot through the living room. Snow
barked from my room.

“I didn’t … this isn’t …”

Shame slammed into me. Talking to Eli in the
boxing ring had seemed easy, as if everything I said explained who
I was and how I’d gotten here. I hadn’t been ashamed. I’d been
willing to admit I was wrong, but I wasn’t ashamed.

Eli stood, his gaze on my sister. “She didn’t
try to take her life. She … she …”

I stared up at him. “I cut myself,” I
finished. Even he couldn’t say it to them.

He peered down at me. “There was a cutter in
my therapy group my first stint in an alcohol recovery program.” He
glanced at my grandmother and Deena. “There’s nothing freaky about
her. It’s a coping mechanism. She just needs better ways to
cope.”

I hated being talked about in third
person.

Standing, I looked at all of them. “I’m okay.
Just forget it.”

Pushing past them, I grabbed the van keys off
of a hook on the wall and left the house.