The Space Between (The Book of Phoenix) (35 page)

I darted down the dirt lane, zigzagging back and forth, calling his name. Like a madwoman, I pounded on an RV’s door and when no one answered, I went to the next one. People came out of their campers, staring at me, but nobody answered my pleas for help. My legs pushed me toward the front of the campground, and I could feel his presence growing stronger.

The front office came into sight, and I sprinted for it, my mind, my heart, my soul focused on Jeric. And there he was, in the doorway of the apartment connected to the office, stumbling and squinting against the bright afternoon sun. I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my life.

“Jeric,” I yelled again. He turned toward me as if he could hear me. Ran to meet me, his hands flying in front of him.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he ran, his face full of concern.

“Yes! I’m fine,” I said aloud, hoping he could read my lips as we ran to each other. “I know! I know, Jeric! You and me—”

Behind him, on the periphery of my vision, Bethany’s red head appeared in the same doorway Jeric had come from, along with the rest of her body, which was barely covered in cut-off shorts not much bigger than a bikini bottom and a halter top. Another young woman with darker hair and clad as skimpily appeared next to Bethany, both of them staring at Jeric. My gaze focused on him, my mind taking in what it hadn’t seen at first, blinded by the thrill of him actually being there when I thought I’d lost him.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Now I really saw him.

Saw his disheveled hair, as if he’d just woken up at 3:30 in the afternoon. The shoes in his hand. His bare chest, sunlight glinting off the nipple rings. His undone belt buckle, the ends hanging loosely on each side of his unbuttoned fly, the hunter green fabric of his boxers or briefs or whatever he wore showing.

I stood there dumbfounded, blinking against the image in front of me, against the bright sun, against the sting in my eyes. Trying to blink it all away, but it was still there, the truth in plain view. A half-naked Jeric—my Twin Flame, my forever love—stumbling out of the home of a girl dressed like a Playboy model.

So much for him remembering what I had. So much for his not wanting any girl anymore but me. So much for him being patient.

I’d had it all wrong. How unbelievably stupid I was!

He’d bolted last night because of me. Because I’d pushed him away. And he’d run to the first girl who’d open her legs for him, which, of course, was the first girl he’d come across. Jacey had been right about men, and I’d known it all along, the reason I was a virgin. I was just glad I was
still
a virgin today.

People had come out of their campers at all the ruckus I’d created, and I felt the burn of their stares now. They probably waited in anticipation for some white trash, trailer park drama to erupt, but I refused to be their source of entertainment.

“We’re them,” both my mouth and hands said, finishing my thought on their own. Then I spun on my heel and strode down the dirt road for my Airstream.

Chapter 28

  Leni’s panicked emotional state had ripped me out of deep unconsciousness. I had no idea where I was—on a couch, wood paneled walls, an old woman sitting in a rocking chair with a shotgun over her lap—but only cared about getting to Leni. I stumbled through the door, squinting against the brightest fucking day in the history of time. I couldn’t see shit, but I could feel her. I turned in her direction, my own panic matching hers, and ran, barely noticing the gravel digging into my bare feet as I asked if she was okay.

She stopped mid-stride and stared at me with a pained expression that tore at my heart, ripped me in half, making me think I was going to die right there.

Her lips moved and so did her hands. “We’re them.”

Then she spun and strode to the camper, and I simply stood there like a damn idiot. She didn’t run, but only walked, her shoulders squared back and her head held high. I followed after her, but when I reached the camper’s door, she shut it in my face. The camper didn’t shake—she hadn’t slammed it. But I could feel her anger. Real anger. And her quiet fury was much more terrifying than a violent storm.

I tried the knob, but she’d locked the door. I pounded on it, more to let her know I was here, wasn’t going anywhere, than expecting her to actually open it. If I’d really wanted in, the flimsy door wouldn’t have stopped me. I decided to wait it out knowing she’d quickly get over her anger as she always did, and then I’d have to face what had ripped through my core last night. I sat on my old friend the picnic table and dropped my pounding head in my hands.

I couldn’t blame her for being mad at me. She’d obviously remembered what I had last night. A truth beyond anything either of us could have ever expected. And I’d reacted like a damn moron. Stormed off and drank myself to oblivion. Like that helped anything.

Yeah, she had a right to be angry.

She calmed down after a while—I could sense it. Not the quiet but frightening aura she’d had a few moments ago, but a real sense of calm. I stepped off the picnic table and strode to the camper door. I stood on the single metal step, but instead of trying the knob or knocking again, I leaned my forehead against the smooth surface of the door, ashamed of myself. The door opened, and I fell through it.

I scrambled to stand, relief washing over me as I threw my arms around Leni and pulled her to me. She stood completely still, her arms stiffly at her sides, not returning my hug. She was still mad. Reluctantly, I let go of her and stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” I signed hurriedly. “I’m sorry for being a fuck-up. I’m sorry for rushing out on you and taking off. It was all too much. You . . . me . . . I . . .” Shit. My fingers fumbled as I tried to form the words.

She grabbed my hands to stop me. “Enough. I get it. You are who you are, Jeric. I can’t change that.”

I shook my head. “No! You can. You
have
changed me. But it all crashed down on me, and I couldn’t handle it. I needed a drink or two to take the edge off, and then more memories came and one thing led to another and—”

Her whole body stiffened. Her expression turned to stone, her green eyes like jade. “Wait. You
know
? You remembered?”

“I’m sorry for how I reacted. Please believe me. I promise to never hurt you like that again. I’ll spend the rest of my days making it up to you. Please let me?”

She stared at me with wide eyes that looked on the verge of tears, then her gaze rolled to the ceiling. Her chest lifted with a deep breath. Then she lifted her arms away from her thighs and dropped them again. I would have preferred more commitment, but I’d take what I could get right now.

“So we’re good?” I asked. “We’ll get out of here when your truck’s done and take off, right? We can go wherever you want—back to Georgia, maybe, and start over.”

Her brows pushed together. “We still have to go to Tampa.”

“No way,” I signed, shaking my head. “I’m not doing what Micah did to Jacey . . . what
I
did to
you
. That place is a death trap.”

“There’s nowhere else to go!” Her temper suddenly—finally—flared. Her calmness before had been a temporary hold on the fire building inside her, a fire she could no longer control. Maybe she’d given up trying. With a shaking hand, she pulled a paper towel out of her back pocket and waved it in my face. My handwriting showed on parts of it. “You tell me to go home, but I don’t have a home to go to! I have no one, but you, Jeric! And I don’t even have you.”

The tears filling the rims of her eyes poured over now, breaking me once again.

“Of course you have me,” I signed as I stepped closer to her. “I’m right here.”

I moved to pull her into my arms, but her face filled with disgust, and she shoved me away.

“They’re still all over you!” she yelled aloud, so loudly my chest felt the vibrations. I stared at her stupidly, thinking I misread her lips. She pressed the paper-towel-note against my face and scrubbed my mouth and cheek so hard she might have taken a layer of skin off, then showed me the pink smear of what could only be lipstick.

Ah, fuck
. I was the biggest cocksucker in the world.

“I can’t believe you!” she screamed, her face bright red and the veins in her neck showing. “Even knowing what you did about us! And you say you’re
here
for me? Bullshit!”

The hate in her eyes hurt worse than any physical blow I’d ever received. The knife in my heart an injury I’d never recover from.

How could I do this to her when she meant so much to me? How could I screw up this badly? Worst of all, I couldn’t recall doing anything with anyone. And I
should
remember—I should have to live with the scathing memory forever, just as the image of the lipstick on my face would be forever etched in her mind. But the last thing I remembered was sitting on the picnic table and gazing at the stars.

I’d considered taking off, had packed up my stuff and left Leni a note and everything, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. My whole body had wracked with pain at the thought of leaving her, vulnerable and alone. So I’d sat outside, staying close in case the Shadowmen made an appearance. But some protector I was, considering I remembered nothing else until I woke up on that couch an hour ago with Leni freaking the hell out.

She shoved me again, toward the door. “Get out. Get the hell out!”

Chapter 29

  I’d been the biggest fool to ever exist on this earth.

I’d fallen for Jeric’s charms, naively believing he’d changed for me. Grasping at the ridiculous idea I’d captured the heart of this man-whore because our souls were connected. We may have been lovers before. We may have even been the same soul. But this was a different life with different circumstances. Our history together didn’t guarantee a future. But for some reason I’d believed in a happily ever after. With Jeric!

I’d set myself up for this heartbreak. It wasn’t his fault. He was only being Jeric. How could I be mad at him for being himself when I could never be myself? Sure, he’d lied to me, although he probably thought he was simply feeding me lines. Everything he’d ever told me was part of his usual game. I knew what he was like that moment in the dark parking lot at the motel, when he’d come running out of his room, another girl following behind him. I knew this when I asked him to come to the lake with me.

Somewhere along the way, I’d become the girl who thought she could change the bad boy, rescue him from his past and make him want to settle down. I’d told myself going in to avoid such hopes and expectations, because they rarely came true. Bad boys were bad boys for a reason. Jeric was Jeric for a reason. It wasn’t fair to blame him for my own idiocy.

This had been my reasoning when I’d opened the door for him, thinking he hadn’t remembered what I had after all. He hadn’t known we’d been together for eons. But now I knew. He
had
remembered.

“You say you aren’t a runner,” I said as I continued shoving him out the door, “but when the truth hit you, you ran last night, you coward. If you’re not in this with me, you may as well go back to your bimbos.”

He tripped over the threshold, barely catching himself before face-planting on the ground.

“Um . . . pardon may?” said a female voice with a heavy Southern drawl, and my head snapped up. Speak of the devil. The other bimbo, not Bethany, but the dark-haired one who could have been her sister based on their shared facial features, stood in the sun beyond the shade of the camper’s awning. Jeric’s belongings sat at her feet. “Ah’m sorry, but thought ya’ll might want his thangs.”

No, I didn’t. She could have him and his
thangs
.

I slammed the door so hard, the camper shook and dishes rattled in the cabinet. And it felt good. Jeric had been right about the feeling of release. I screamed at the top of my lungs, my fists balled at my sides and the veins and muscles of my neck straining. That felt good, too. I dropped to my knees and punched the pillows and the futon. More adrenaline pumped me up further. I stomped through the camper, grabbed random items and hurdled them at the walls. Air rushed through my lungs. Blood flowed to my fists. I slammed my hand into the bathroom door, punching a hole through it and leaving a delightful pain on my knuckles.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as my hands gripped the edges of the bathroom sink and I stared into the mirror. A tiny part of me wanted to crumple to the floor, sobbing and cradling my broken heart. To cry away the hurt and the anger behind closed doors. But no. I didn’t want to cry. Not this time. I
wanted
to be angry. I wanted to feel the rage roiling inside me and let it all out for once.

“I
HATE
YOU!” I shrieked at my reflection with so much force and volume, the words were indecipherable.

No matter. The person I meant them for was far, far away. Not Jeric. My bitch of a mother. Imagining her reaction to my words and my tantrum came easily—the sugary smile on her face accompanied by a warning I knew too well in her eyes. I saw her face now as I stared in the mirror. How could I ever doubt she was my mother? We had the same green eyes. But I wasn’t her. I never was.

“I’m ME!” I yelled at the mirror. “Do you hear me, Mama? I. Am.
Me
.”

And it was time to be myself. I’d let Jeric off the hook for being himself. Why did he get to have all the fun? Why did everyone else get to do what they wanted but I could never allow myself the same privilege? It was my turn. I was done trying to be someone I wasn’t.

I stormed into the bedroom, dug through my suitcase and threw my clothes over my head until I found my favorite, tight-fitting jeans with the rip up the thigh and a snug, white tank top. I yanked my clothes off and changed, surprised I didn’t rip anything in the process with the force I put into every move. My faded red cowboy boots made the outfit better than heels ever would.