It Was You Read online

  I hate the hurt he so obviously feels.

  "I want to live on a beach," I tell him, taking the focus off his non-future. "I haven't thought about kids, I don't know if I want them. I mean, I'm sure someday I will, but the thought of any child growing up the way I did makes it easy to dismiss the idea of ever having any."

  "Which is why I wanted a lot. I wanted to raise my children the way my grandfather tried to raise us. With respect and morals, imaginations, labor. Kids now-a-days sit in front of a damn PlayStation while their parents are off doing God knows what. I wanted children that I could raise the way they deserved, and I wanted enough that I knew if one of them were going through a rough time, they'd have a friend."

  I can see the pain in his face when he talks about it all. I hate that he grew up rough, too. I hate that we didn't find each other sooner so that we could have saved one another at a younger age. So we could have loved each other longer. I hate that he can't have the future he so truly deserves.

  Since we're discussing our upbringing, I decide I'm allowed to prod and probe a little. "You lived with your grandfather?"

  "For a few years, yeah," he answers without any hesitation. Maybe now that his secret about cancer is in the air, we can discuss other things that previously were forbidden. "My parents split because Mom found out that Dad got some other chick knocked up- which happened to be Jamison’s mom. She went all crazy and reported that my dad was abusive, this, that and the third. I don't even know, I wasn't barely four at the time. Justice and I got taken from his custody, then a few months later my mom had to do this stint in jail that was almost three years for distributing drugs."

  "Oh." I let the word drag for a bit. I’m not sure what else to say.

  "Yeah." He laughs. "The bitch was crazy, I'll give her that much. Loved her to death though, no matter what she put us through."

  “Who is that Ray guy? I was thinking it had to be your dad or something, but it’s not… is it?”

  “Ah, I was wondering when you’d ask about him,” he mentions with a smirk. “He’s my uncle. Colin’s dad to be exact. He runs the gang the bikers belonged to and I know damn well they heard about what I did…” he lets the words drag out. No need to repeat what happened.

  "Why didn't your dad ever try for you, instead of sending you with your grandfather?"

  He snorts out a laugh like it's a joke that I'd even think that. "He's a lazy ass bastard. When he found out Monica- which is Jamison’s mom- was pregnant, he finally got a job. Then she left him about three months after he was born. My grandfather spent most of his income on supporting my dad and Jamison, the rest of it supporting Justice and me. When he died he had nothing to give anyone. He did his damn best and I miss that old man like crazy."

  "I'm so sorry." I look down at the empty plate in front of me. I can't look at him right now, I don’t want to see the sadness in his features. I had a rough upbringing but he had a full on shitty one. I feel selfish even comparing the two.

  His hand comes out in front of me, curling his fingers a couple times in a way that asks for my hand to be placed in his. Hesitantly I place my palm into his, allowing his fingers to grasp mine. "Don't ever apologize for something you can't control. Life happens, it moves on. We live, we die, we're a person in a sea of people. Some people have shit lives, others have the world in the palm of their hand.” He squeezes my hand with a soft smirk on his face. Is he calling me his world? “Everyone has their own personal hell, as well as a dream or two they know will never come true. It's... life."

  "How is it that you're so..." I can't even think of the words to say. Positive? Motivational? Okay with dying? I almost roll my eyes at the thought of saying any of those things out loud, they're either corny or rude.

  I think Jaron knows all the words at the tip of my tongue, so he decides to answer anyways. "I've been through a lot. Experienced some life changing things. Had a grandfather who taught me the way of the world at a young age. I don't know. I guess I've learned that instead of hating everyone and everything, including myself, that I need to just go with it."

  "I wish it were that simple."

  "Nothing is simple, even you told me that, but practice makes it easier." He squeezes my hand once more while he stares lovingly at me. "You ready to go?"

  I answer him honestly, "No."

  "We'll get a hotel in a few more towns over. We got to at least make an effort to go a little further. I'm supposed to be at work tomorrow morning."

  I feel guilty he has to work and is missing it. Although, I can't imagine focusing on work when my life could end at any second. "Can I ask one more thing?"

  "Anything." I can tell by the way he says it that he completely means it. I love that he trusts me enough.

  "Why do you go ahead with what you’re required to do for probation or whatever, if you... you know..." I let the sentence die out. I don't want to say it.

  He lifts the side of his lip in a sad smile. He always knows what I'm about to say without me actually saying it. Maybe because I'm not that hard of person to read, or maybe because we actually have a connection deep enough that he can feel it.

  "I don't need to be on the run for the last remaining weeks I have. I would rather do what is asked of me and make everyone happy."

  "Is that what you're doing for me? Trying to make me happy?"

  He stands from his side of the table, still holding my hand. Standing before me, he pulls on my arm, bringing me to stand with him. Twirling me around, he holds my hip with his other hand, then starts to sway us back and forth in a dance.

  There isn’t any music so Jaron starts to hum out a melody.

  My face heats up while he dances me around our table, in front of the handful of patrons in the restaurant. He doesn’t seem to care that we have all their undivided attention, so I stop trying to care as well. Embracing him in his ridiculousness, which is actually one of the sweetest things a person has ever done for me.

  "If you're thinking I'm doing this for some kind of charity reason, stop thinking that right now." His voice is stern and to the point. He eyes bore into mine with a force not to be reckoned with. "Yes, I'm trying to make you happy but for no other reason than you deserve it.”

  "You deserve it, too."

  "I am happy. I'm dancing with the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I know... I know that when I die, I'll die the luckiest son of a bitch there ever was. I not only fell in love with you, but you actually loved me in return. There is no better joy than that."

  A few awes echo around us, but they fade out with the rest of the surroundings. I didn't expect this dance, those words, nor the moisture in his eyes. Without a doubt every single word he says he believes to be the truth, so rather or not I believe I'm beautiful or worthy, I accept everything he says. Pushing myself up on my toes, I reach my lips to his. I don't ever want to kiss another soul.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That night was more than magical. When Jaron laid me down on the hotel bed, he watched me closely, assessing each and every reaction. He kissed my body head to toe. He touched my skin, dug into me when he moaned, guided his hands down different paths of my skin. I can't even call it making love because it was so much more than that.

  When I woke this morning I was bound so tightly within his arms, I never wanted him to wake only for the sake I didn't want the moment to evaporate away from me. Eventually he did, and it wasn't long before we were hitting the road again.

  Now we're crossing the border into Arlington again, and everything that is familiar surrounds me, coating me with a sadness. My fingers grip into his tee-shirt. I don't want this to end.

  Pulling down my dirt road, he doesn't stop at the beginning like he had before. This time he pulls into my driveway. I didn't think he knew where I lived, but again it is a small town so I shouldn't be too surprised. Mom's car is in the driveway and someone else's is parked on the edge of the lot.

  I climb off the bike and stare curiously at Jaron when he shuts it off. "What ar
e you doing?" I probably sound more panicked than I meant to.

  “Meeting your mom," he says nonchalantly.

  "What? No. You can't."

  It doesn't stop him from taking my hand in his and giving it a squeeze. "What are you so afraid of Ravyn?"

  I start to open my mouth but it snaps shut. I don't know how to answer that because right now, I don't know what I'm afraid of. He isn't going to judge me from how my home looks, or think of me any less because of my mom. He'll probably hate Bruce, but that's to be expected. I may be embarrassed about things but... none of that matters. He showed me that. Half the things I was scared of no longer matter.

  "Nothing," I whisper. It brings out a smile on his face I want to frame.

  "You have some serious fucking explaining to do!" Mom screams from the front door.

  Glancing over, I see my brother standing in front of her, arms crossed over his broad chest. To say he is pissed is an understatement. I shouldn't expect anything else I suppose. I am surprised to see him caring enough to be here, but he is my brother and I did take off without much of a word to anyone except Dawn.

  Jaron steps in with his reserved perseverance. "I apologize. She was with me."

  "And you are?" Mom questions like she actually cares. This is the most I've ever seen her interested with my life.

  "Jaron Spilner, ma'am."

  "Means nothing to me," she barks out. Looking at me once more, she sighs loudly. "Well, what are you waiting on? Get in this house and tell your... friend... to leave." She says the word friend as if it its poisonous that I have one.

  "Want me to stay?" Jaron whispers close to my ear for only me to hear.

  I turn into him, my face as close to his as it possibly can be without actually kissing. I do want him here, but knowing my brother and Bruce, it probably isn't the best. The worst images flash through my head, causing me to shake it no. "Can I call you later?"

  "If I don't hear from you by nine I'll be back."

  "Thank you."

  "Let's go!" Mom yells. "I haven't all day!"

  Jaron faces the door once more and gives a curt nod as well as a hint of a smile. "It was nice meeting you."

  "Yeah, yeah," she groans. Her arms cross over her chest, matching my brother. He hasn't said a word but I can see his face getting redder. Welcome to my life.

  Feeling like a scolded seven year old child, I bow my head in shame and make my way towards the house as Jaron's motorcycle revs up. He takes off down the road by the time I'm in front of Mom and Moose.

  Mom grabs ahold of my hair, pulling it towards her. The shooting, hot pain reminds me of Kyler and what is to come once he finds out I'm back home. "You have embarrassed me so much," she seethes. "I cannot believe you had me file a police report and everything. The town has been stopping in, asking questions, voicing their dumbass concerns. I'm sick of it. Some people think it's my fault you took off without a damn word. This is bullshit, Ravyn, fucking bullshit. I've done everything for you."

  My lip quivers when I try to speak but nothing comes out. I know I should apologize, I should reassure her, something, but it's all lies. I don't feel sorry. I don't care. I truly don't. I want more than anything to pack my shit and move away with Jaron, but unfortunately I have the remaining of summer to get through.

  "Have nothing to say?" She grips my hair harder, this time screaming in my ear. It all hurts too much.

  Using more force than I even realized I had, I shove at my mom. Her hand unlocks from my hair, pulling a few blonde strands with it. "I have a lot to say, like leave me alone!" I yell back at her, not caring we're outside for all the neighbors to hear.

  "Ravyn, don't speak to Mom that way," Moose orders me.

  "You know what?!" I point first to my brother than to my mom, realizing more in this moment than ever that I never belonged in this family. "I'm sick of you. All of you. I'm sick of this life. I'm sick of this home." My voice continuously rising.

  Walking through the door, I pick up a picture frame of mom and Bruce smiling in a false happiness. Throwing it across the living room, I feel the slightest amount of bliss as it shatters into a hundred pieces. "I'm sick of everything. Of all the lies and the drugs and the abuse. I'm sick of this family."

  Bruce cracks open the bedroom door, his eyes wide in outrage. "What the fuck is going on?" He yells, looking first to me then to my mom.

  Moose steps in, trying to save the situation. "Nothing. Just an argument. I'll calm them down."

  "No," I say loudly. "No. You're not calming me down! You never come around, so why in the hell do you think you can have any control over me?"

  Dexter comes out of Mom and Bruce's room looking towards me. He is shaking in his skin, scared of all the noise- and he looks like he hasn't been fed much lately. It breaks my heart. I was the one who took care of him and I've been selfish. "Come here boy," I whisper, patting my legs, trying desperately to will away everyone around me.

  As he makes his way towards me, Bruce kicks him in the back leg, causing him to whimper. "Stupid fucking mutt." Dexter nearly tumbles but manages to make his way towards me.

  I grab the next thing on the end table and chuck it at Bruce, missing him ever so much. The nick knack breaks when it hits the wall aside him. "Don't touch him you stupid asshole."

  He looked pissed before, now I can't even explain the look on his face which turns a near purple.

  "Ravyn," Moose yells the same time my mom whispers, "What did you do?"

  I march towards my room with Dexter in tow but Bruce intersects me, grabbing my arm as tight as he can, shoving me into the wall. "Listen to me you little cunt, don't you ever speak to me like that again."

  "Don't you ever touch her like that again!" Jaron's voice echoes throughout the home.

  The entire place goes dead silent as we all turn to look at Jaron who shoves past my brother to Bruce. He pulls his arm, removing Bruce's hand from me, then he shoves him back. Bruce slams into the wall at least twice as hard as he pushed me but immediately charges back to Jaron. I watch in horror as the two of them start throwing punches, but unsurprisingly Bruce is high, giving Jaron the better throws- eventually causing Bruce to fall to the ground. Mom screams in the background, begging them to stop, while Moose bitches and moans but does nothing to end it. I can't say a word nor can I move. I'm completely frozen in place. That is until Jaron straddles Bruce who has fallen to the floor, slamming his fist down over and over.

  Rushing over, I grab for Jaron's arm. "Stop, Jaron-" but before I'm able to grab it, his elbow comes back and connects me with my eye.

  Falling to the floor, my breath rushes out my lungs so fast, it takes me a second to come to. Moose is screaming at Jaron, calling him a piece of shit for hitting me. Mom’s racing to Bruce, careless of me.

  Shaking my head, I say, "It's my fault." Talking to Moose.

  Jaron stares at me with terror in his eyes. I can see the guilt racing through his mind. "I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to."

  "It's fine," I say as my automatic response. This time, it really is fine. It was my fault- and I know it was an accident. I don't know much about the real world, but I do know Jaron would never intentionally harm me.

  "No it's not," he fights back with his words.

  Standing before me, he reaches down to help me up but before I'm able to grip his hand, Moose shoves at Jaron, knocking him to the ground. "Leave my damn sister alone. Get the fuck out of this house, you're not welcomed here."

  "Yes he is!" I shout at my brother.

  He doesn't even bat a lash when he points the door. "Get the fuck out."

  Standing up, I keep my two feet planted to the ground. I can feel the courage inside me growing faster than the anger. "Then I'm going with him."

  Moose stares over at me this time, his brows pinching together. "I think you have a fiancé looking for you. Why don't you head on over there and stop making him wonder where the fuck you are."

  "Don't talk to me like that," I tell him, standing my ground. Just the
way Jaron has been teaching me to do lately. "You don't ever come around, so don't you dare start to think you know anything about Kyler and me. We're through. I don't love him, I don't want him."

  Moose starts to say something but mom speaks up finally after all this time. "Let the girl go if she wants." Her voice carries a lot of pain with it and I'm curious if maybe, just maybe, this was a wakeup call for her.

  Bruce grunts in the fetal position. I believe he's trying to say something but Jaron got the better hand in that fight without a doubt. Hurrying up, I run to my room, making sure to avoid Bruce at all cost. I grab a backpack and start filling it with random clothing and other things I'll need to last me a couple days. I have no idea when I get back if anything will be here still, but hopefully my mom will do something right by not allowing Bruce to touch any of my belongings.

  Walking back out into the living room I notice Bruce and Moose are in the bedroom- my brother helping stop some of the bleeding. Mom is in the kitchen passing Jaron a frozen pack of peas. They both spot me when I come closer. Mom looks down with shame but doesn't say a word as she walks past me. I don't know why I expected her to say something- but I was hoping that she'd tell me she was finally leaving Bruce, or that she was sorry, or... anything.

  "I'm sorry for that," I tell Jaron shamefully.

  "What?" he questions. A brow of his perks up curiously. "You're kidding right? I got to beat his ass and save you. Damn, I'm your modern day prince."

  A smile spreads across my face even after everything that just happened. "That you most certainly are." Not wanting to stay here any longer than need be, I ask if we can get going. Anywhere but here.

  Placing the peas on the counter, we leave the home, not glancing back once as we walk through the threshold. He cracks a grin when we get up to his motorcycle. "What?" I ask.