It Was You Read online

  "If you were sorry, you'd be honest with me. I've told you my secrets, my fears, my life, and you're holding everything back. That is, except your feelings, which you're denying me of!" Turning on my heels I start to march off but Jaron doesn't let me get too far.

  "We can talk," he says loud enough to grab my attention. I pause, waiting to see if he has anything more to add. When he doesn't, I cautiously turn back to face him. He looks restless. Maybe even afraid. "If you want. I will tell you. You're going to hate me, you're going to wish this all away, but I'll let you in."

  Biting down on my lip I think it over. Do I honestly want to know his secrets? They seem bad. If they weren't so horrible, he'd have told me by now. Right? This is my opportunity to know the real Jaron Spilner, and dammit if I'll let that opportunity slip through my hands.

  Nodding my head slowly, I make a few steps towards him. "Tell me, Jaron. I want to know."

  Grabbing my hand he laces his fingers through mine, giving it a tight squeeze before pressing his lips to the back of my hand. He stares directly at me the entire time, begging me with his eyes not to force it out of him but I don't open my mouth. I may not want this, but I need it. It's not that he owes it to me, it's that I owe it to myself. If they're really that bad, this will tell me if my feelings for Jaron are strong enough to fit his demons as well as mine.

  After several minutes of staring at one another in a pool of people rushing about, he finally pulls on my hand, walking me away from everyone. We make our way back out through the gate over to where his brother in law's pickup awaits. He lets my hand slip away from his, then he turns, not able to face me.

  I can understand it so I don’t push for anything more than he is willing to give me.

  Leaning back against the truck, I wait impatiently for him to say something, to say anything at all. A thousand thoughts pour through my mind at what his secrets are. Did he kill someone for real? Who? Why? Is he really on probation or is he on the run? Does he have a secret drug addiction? Sex addiction? So many thoughts start to borrow themself deep within, and each one gets a little worse than the last.

  When I'm ready to give up on knowing, ready to start walking away, he sighs heavily, still not turning around as he speaks. "My mom wasn't the healthiest person. She went from man to man because she couldn't do it on her own, that’s why we traveled so much. It's also why my sister lives here; she was fifteen, I was seventeen. She got pregnant by Kris and said she'd never leave him no matter what. I didn't blame her but I got angry because she was the one thing in this world I could count on. My dad and brother were in a different state and didn't give two fucks about me, and here I was watching my mom get beat, doing drugs, selling things she definitely shouldn't have.

  "I met this girl and she said she could make it all disappear. The pain, the misery, the isolation. She was wrong but at the time I didn't care. I didn't care about anything. I wanted everything she promised me. When she placed a white powder on the table in front of me I knew exactly what it was, I knew exactly what it'd do to me, but still... I didn't care. I snorted that shit until I couldn't feel my face any longer."

  When he pauses, I ask, "So you're addicted to coke?" It doesn't make much sense, as I've been with him for a few days and in no way does he seem like a fiend.

  "Was. I was addicted. I'm not anymore." He turns to face me finally, his eyes red from the tears he refuses to break free of. "We still moved around, for the next four years we must have made it to at least sixteen different towns in several states. When we got to Chicago my mom met this faggot named Jack." The anger in his voice increases. He's now spitting out his words instead of speaking them. I watch as his jaw ticks back and forth- and although he's staring directly at me, he isn't looking at me. He's watching the horrible memories play out in front of him.

  "My mom caught me doing blow. You'd have thought she'd whip my fucking ass for it, but no. Instead she sat down and did a fucking line with me. Then another. Her douche bag of a boyfriend walked in and was straight pissed, not that we were doing drugs, but because we were doing his drugs. I watched him grab my mom by her hair and throw her down like some kind of rag doll, then he kicked her in the God damn ribs."

  I don’t mean to gasp but I can’t control it, as I’m sure Jaron can’t control the small sob that escapes from his mouth. His tears finally break free. He isn't the only one crying either. I can feel his pain in the way he speaks. I walk over to wrap him in my arms but he backs off, shaking his head back and forth. He doesn't want me to touch him, probably because of how angry he is. His fists tighten, turning his skin around them pale white then red when they loosen back up. He's doing everything in his power to stop the tears, so I back off completely, settling against the truck once more. I let him continue, knowing this is probably the hardest thing he's ever said out loud.

  "I... I got so fucking pissed that I got up and tackled that son of a bitch, but as soon as he shoved me off him, he blasted me in the face, breaking my nose. I knew he had a glock in his room, I knew exactly where it was, so as he grabbed my mom by the neck I ran into his room and returned with the gun. I pointed it right at the mother fucker but I... I... fuck."

  With a quivering lip I ask softly, "You... missed him, didn't you?"

  Closing his eyes tightly he nods his head.

  "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Jaron."

  "Once I realized I got my mom instead," he says with a broken voice. "I kept firing shots until I watched it go through his fucking skull. I turned the gun on myself, devastated in what I had just done, but it only clicked. It was empty."

  My shaking hand comes up and covers my mouth, trying desperately to cover up my shriek caused by utter shock. Everything he says doesn't even seem plausible. How could that have happened? How can that be his life? I've been dealt a shit hand, but that... that is so much worse than anything I've been through. I see completely why he thinks I couldn't look at him the same, but not only do I look at Jaron like he's my savior, I now look at him with sorrow too. Poor, sweet Jaron. He doesn’t deserve that.

  When the silence around us becomes deafening, I finally find the strength to speak again. "I'm so sorry, Jaron. I'm so sorry you went through that." I want to add that I'm thankful there wasn't another bullet but I'm scared I'll upset him, so instead I say it in my head, over and over again.

  With a sniffle, he wipes at the tears falling down his face, trying to get them to disappear. "Somewhere in the mix of things, probably when I tackled him, I somehow broke one of my ribs. While in the hospital getting fixed up they found it."

  "Who… found… what?"

  "The real reason you're going to hate me."

  This time when he stares at me he is watching me. He wants to see my reaction. He is honestly concerned about what I'm going to think. I'm not sure how much worse this story can get, but I know what he told me isn't even close to the end of it. "Found... What?" I repeat, my voice stern even though I feel like everything inside of me is going to crumble.

  "Bone Metastasis."

  "Which is..."

  "Cancer."

  I stare at Jaron the same way he stares at me, with despair, with grief. I'm waiting for him to say how he's going through chemo, or already has, and that it’s all gone.

  But he doesn't.

  "How long ago?" I ask, not knowing if I actually want the answer or not.

  "Five months ago."

  "Is that why you're living with your dad?"

  Maybe he stayed in Chicago until it was all gone, then he came to Nebraska to finish his probation. It has to be the answer. He needs to tell me that. I can't bear to hear anything more than that.

  "No," he says. Is that a good thing? I can't read him. I don't know what is going on. He needs to explain it further but I'm too scared to ask. He must know it because after a few more seconds, he finally tells me what I don't want to hear. "I signed a waiver that they weren't to treat me. I did the jail time I had to do, then they sent me to live with Dad for my probation."

>   "So you still have it?"

  He slowly nods. "It's my punishment."

  "What do you mean?" I yell, not meaning to raise my voice but not being able to stop myself from doing so.

  He steps closer to me, enough to be able to run his fingers along my jaw line. His hand is shaking, or maybe it's me. Probably the both of us. "I killed my mom, I don't deserve to live."

  With a quivering lip, I cry out, "But you saved me, Jaron! Now save yourself. Please!" I beg, and I'll continue to beg, until he does the right thing. Dying isn't going to correct his wrong, he has to know that. I'll try to convince him every single minute of every single day until he goes back to the hospital and begs for them to help.

  His palm holds me, caressing my cheek, attempting to warm me. I can't be warmed though, not until he tells me he'll do what it takes to save himself. "It's too late."

  "It's not too late," I plead. "You're still alive. You're here. It's not too late."

  "It is, Ravyn. I'm so sorry." He leans in and presses his lip to mine but I shove him away. I can't savor his touch right now, I can't allow him to comfort me- it's a lie. It's all a lie. Every single time he makes me feel loved, he is lying to me, because if he has any feelings for me at all, he'd admit it wasn't too late.

  I stare at Jaron, full of rage but not an ounce of regret. I'll never regret falling for him, but I'll despise him forever for allowing me to. I'm thankful he saved me, but it's temporary. He'll leave me and I'll be right back to where I was, probably even worse off than before now that I've embarrassed Kyler the way I had.

  Shoving at his chest once more I walk away from him. I have no idea where I'll go, but I can't be here any longer. He doesn't stop me- which in a way makes me glad but it also hurts me a little more. I need this time to myself but I was hoping deep down he'd ask me to stay with him. I could show him comfort, he could put me at ease, we could talk about it, I could convince him.

  I learned long ago just because we wish for something with all our strength, it doesn't change what our reality is. I hate it, so much, but I can't change it.

  Chapter Twelve

  After I walked away from Jaron, I ended up back inside the carnival. I saw his sister and in seconds of her spotting me, she knew exactly what had happened. She walked over, wrapped me in a welcoming embrace, but didn't say one word. It was what I needed. I walked around the carnival with her and her family until the sun settled deep in the west, then we headed home sans Jaron.

  She tried to reach her brother a few times before leaving but there was absolutely no response. I hated leaving him behind, but she assured me he'd make it back to the house when it was time. All I could picture inside my mind was him doing a line of coke or something equally horrible- only because of the story he told me about his past. I don't want him to get so upset that he'd go back to that horrible habit.

  Three hours of lying in bed staring up at the moon, slightly covered by a cloudy sky, the door finally creaks open. I sit up in bed quickly, looking over to the door. His shadow stands before me in the doorway, illuminated by the hallway light. He stumbles in, intoxicated by something.

  "They gave me six months max," he murmurs. "Five months ago."

  I don't say anything. There is nothing to say. My response will be the same every single time. He needs to try to get some help. It isn't too late because he isn't dead... yet. One day it will be too late.

  "It's incurable," he adds. "Treatable but incurable. I knew it was a sign from God, or whatever there is guiding us on this journey."

  Speaking through the thick lump embedded in my throat, I tell him, "Please stop talking about it."

  I can hear his sniffle but I'm not completely positive if he's crying or not. I'd assume so.

  I am. Silently.

  I can't help the tears. He broke my heart today. It's going to keep breaking, long after he's gone.

  Stumbling towards me, he climbs onto the end of the bed, making his way towards me on his hands and knees. The light from the outside shines against his face, which is puffy from the tears he obviously has cried. He doesn't stop crawling towards me until his lips are on mine.

  I'm not entirely sure if I should let him kiss me, but I don't stop him this time. He kisses me with so much passion and fierceness that I'm all-consumed by him. Our tears meet as they roll down our cheeks, becoming one. His tongue caresses along mine while he holds me to him, not allowing me much breathing space, but I don't mind. I’ll never be able to enjoy any other kiss on this planet, not for the rest of my life. It's Jaron. He's it for me, no matter how long or short I have him in my life.

  I can’t resist him. I’ve become addicted already. His touch is unlike any other.

  Without him I can’t focus, I can’t breathe, I can’t live. He’s my lifeline.

  His body presses against mine even tighter. His lips separate from me for a moment before he starts kissing along my skin- kissing away my tears, all the way down my neck until he reaches my ear. Then he whispers, ever so softly, "I have a lot of regrets in my life, but my biggest one is not meeting you earlier in life."

  I can't find a justifiable response, so I don't say anything. I don't need to because when his face comes back in view in front of me, he looks down at me with so much love in his eyes, I know he feels this too. We're connected by our souls.

  "I should have never let you fall with me," he whispers, closing in on my mouth once more. "But I couldn't imagine anyone else's love."

  Wrapping my hand around his neck, I pull him down to me, holding his lips against mine. His kiss is salty and dry, but it's the best damn kiss imaginable.

  His hands follow my body, memorizing every inch of me. When his thumbs hook into my shorts, I lift my body up to allow him to strip them from me. He slowly lifts my shirt from my body after, separating our kiss only for the sake of removing my clothing. I slowly strip him from his clothes too, ready to be connected both soul and body. I already know he loves me, and without a doubt I love him too, so when our bodies unite I'll finally be making love for the very first time.

  He pushes slowly into me, setting my soul on fire. I feel more alive in this moment than I ever have. My body isn't the only thing exposed to him, everything that allows me to live and breathe now belongs to Jaron. He kisses me passionately, working his mouth all over my face and neck, slowly and fervently, taking away all my pain, even if for a moment.

  When my body starts to crumble with the most intense feeling it's ever had, a sob echoes out. Jaron covers it with his mouth, but he doesn't stop the sound in its entirety. More tears fall, this time not because I'm scared of losing him, but because my emotions are on haywire. He brought out more of me than I ever knew possible.

  "I love you," I whisper when the feeling of euphoria fades.

  He grunts out softly, pushing harder into me as his body partially collapses upon me. His mouth comes down by my ear once more as he whispers those words right back to me. "I love you, so much, Ravyn. So very much."

  *--*--*

  Awaking the next morning my body feels sore, especially between my legs. I bite down on my smile, trying to hold it back, but there is no use. I've seen on television shows where the woman is smiling ear to ear the day after sex and I never once understood it, I didn't think something like sex would ever make me happy the next morning- especially since it never made me happy while it was happening. I guess that is why people say there is a difference between sex and making love.

  Jaron's arms are still wrapped snug around me, just as they were when we fell asleep last night. I melt into him, allowing my body to infuse into his. I want to stay connected to him as long as I possibly can- because one day it'll be gone. Jaron will be nothing but a memory. Unfortunately that day is probably much sooner than I'd have ever imagined.

  The idea of him already leaving me chokes me with emotions. I reluctantly peel his arm off me as I get up from the bed and run down the hall to the bathroom. Vomit rises in my throat mere seconds before I'm in front of the toilet.
I don't even have time to turn the light on while I open the lid and let it all out. When I no longer feel sick, I collapse on the floor next to the toilet, hugging my knees to my chest, rocking slowly while I calm my nerves.

  It's some kind of sick, twisted joke that Jaron would be sent to me. Haven't I been through enough?

  I close my eyes tight as I curse all the heavenly God's there possibly could be for giving me such a torturous life. I hate everything about it. I was born into a beautiful home with a father that adored me, a mother who worked endlessly to please everyone, and a brother who protected me the way he should. Then it all disappeared and I was thrown into a whirlwind of horrible situations and people who no longer cared. Somewhere in a past life I must have been a atrocious person- a monster to say the least.

  "What are you doing?"

  Cracking open my eyelids, I glance through the wetness and see Jaron staring at me with an odd expression on his face. He leans against the door frame, arms crossed, not seeming too impressed by me laying here crying my eyes out.

  "I'm sorry," I murmur. Repositioning myself, I sit up and reach for the flush so he can no longer see what had happened.

  With an audible sigh, he asks, "Last night... you didn't want that, did you?"

  "What?" I gasp, horrified I gave him that impression. "I did. It was incredible." My lip quivers, and I fear I'm going to start crying even more. Damn all the emotions that never used to surface- now I can't rid myself of them.

  Kneeling in front of me, Jaron runs his fingers through my hair, gripping a handful of locks hard but not with force. Without notice he pulls me to him, locking our lips together. I pull back, looking away. "Ravyn..."

  "I just threw up, I can't kiss you."

  With another small tug, he adjusts my view to face him once more and his lips lock into mine all over again. Apparently it doesn't bother him that much. I don't waste much time thinking about it, instead I get lost in his kiss once more. Savoring each second I have with him.