It Was You Read online

  "It's no white horse but I think it'll do. What do you say?"

  "I wouldn't have it any other way."

  He leans in to brush his lips against mine. "Me either."

  I'm actually surprised when we pull into Jaron's dads. I didn't think he'd want to bring me here in case Kyler was here- then again, he probably has so much adrenaline rushing through him after his fight with Bruce, he was likely hoping Kyler was here so he could put in a round two.

  I don’t think I can handle any more fights though. I’m emotionally drained.

  "Why don't you head on into my room, if you remember where it was."

  "I do," I tell him when we walk through the front door.

  He points in the direction anyways while he turns the opposite way towards the kitchen. "I'll be there in a minute."

  Several minutes pass by when he finally joins me in the bedroom. He lays down a large plate of peanut butter sandwiches and chips, then tosses over a bottle of water to me on the bed while he opens one for himself. I was busying myself in his room by looking at the few possessions he does have.

  "What made you come back?" I ask after a second. I don't even have an appetite, my stomach is in knots.

  He sits down, moving the plate back so he can be close to me. "I had a feeling it wasn't going to be good for you. I got to the end of the road and couldn’t figure out why in the hell I’d ever leave you in a situation like that."

  "He's never hit me before," I admit. "I've always been scared of him though."

  "I hate bringing it up..." He looks down instead of at me. His hands folded within one another, he focuses solely on them. "You shouldn't ever be afraid. If you're ever scared, do something about it. Tell someone, buy a gun to protect yourself, anything. I... I won't be here to protect you, but I want to save you in every way that I can."

  Placing my hand on top of his, I say the only thing I can think of- mainly to change the situation from his cancer. "I've never shot a gun."

  He peaks over at me, almost amused by my statement. "Want to?"

  "What? No!"

  "Come on. Dad's got a few we can shoot off right out back."

  I stare at him bewildered by the idea. I think about him shooting his mom on accident and it scares me something like that may happen again. I shake my head slowly back and forth. "It's fine, I don't need to know. I won't ever own one."

  "You're going to live in fucking Texas for Christ sake. You need to at least learn, and you probably should own at least a handgun."

  "I don't want to."

  "Why?"

  "Because I don't."

  "Why, Ravyn?"

  "Because I don't want to, I said."

  "Ravyn..."

  "Because I don't want there to be an accident." I look down, unable to face him.

  When he doesn't say anything after a moment I glance up at him. He's staring at me but not with an angry expression. Not amused either. Indifferent I guess I'd say. I'm not sure what he is thinking or how hard that hit home, but it's the truth. It scares me.

  Finally after a minute of an ongoing awkward silence, he speaks again. "If I would have been trained before that incident, it most likely wouldn't have happened. I've learned since, at least the basics. I'm not a professional by any means, but I damn well know how to shoot and handle a gun properly. When you get to Texas, go to a shooting range whenever you can, and learn. I want that for you. Please?"

  "I... guess."

  He smiles proudly at winning the debate so easily. "Good. Remember, I'll be watching you, so I'll know if you're lying or not."

  I smack his chest for saying that. "Stop bringing it up, please. I don't want to think about it more than I need to."

  His face completely softens as his smile disappears. He is full of concern all over again, and I hate feeling that way. Before he can say anything I grab a sandwich and head for the bedroom door. "You coming?"

  He hops up from the bed as well, grabbing only his water. "Let's go."

  Chapter Fifteen

  I had no idea holding a gun, let alone shooting it, would give me so much thrill. We've been out back of his house for the last two or more hours shooting at cans that we collected from the field where Jamison always has his parties. His dad has a large gun collection, none of which I know the names of. Well, except for the ones we've been shooting with.

  Jaron has taught me to shoot a Springfield, which happens to be some kind of rifle caliber- whatever that is- and it actually knocked me on my butt the first time I shot it off. Almost the second time, too. As well as two handguns; a Colt Mustang and a Smith & Wesson M&P, which has become my personal favorite. I feel badass holding it- which is saying a lot, because I don't ever recall feeling badass in my life.

  He sits there on the ground, leaning back on his hands while he watches me with delight. He shot off a few rounds himself but I think he got tired. When I mentioned heading back to the house an hour ago he said he was perfectly capable of sitting around. Placing the M&P down, I look over at him once more. "Ready now?"

  Glancing over at the house, he shrugs. "Sure. If you're ready."

  "Well my shoulders are starting to get sore. We can always do it again tomorrow though, right?"

  He looks back up to me, the sun dancing on his perfect skin. I love watching his smile spread along his face. "If my dad ain't around."

  "Oh. Would he be mad?"

  He shrugs once more. "Not a damn clue. He's the one that taught me how to shoot them, but they're his babies, so he might get a little pissy."

  "You shouldn't have let me shoot them then," I argue.

  He continues to grin. "And miss this? Naw. I'm not going to lie, it turned me on a lot watching you shoot them."

  My face flames red. "What?" I gasp. "How did that turn you on?"

  He barks out a laugh while standing up, then he grabs the two guns I'm not using, and we start heading towards the house. "You're kidding right? The most beautiful woman I've ever seen shooting a gun- and you have to ask how that could turn me on? Damn, you know nothing about guys, do you?"

  I shove at his shoulder, getting all embarrassed and not having a clue at what to say.

  He starts to chuckle but his yawn interrupts it. "I'm getting exhausted," he states. "Probably from all the traveling. Wanna take a nap with me?" He glances over hopeful.

  Pressing my lips together, trying to hold back my own laugh, I let him know, "I do know enough about guys to know exactly what that’s code for." I wait for his laugh but it doesn't come, a hint of a smile starts to appear on his face, but it quickly fades. He really is exhausted. I can imagine driving all that way in that short amount of time really did in him. "Yeah," I say. "I could really use a nap."

  After he puts the guns away he goes into the fridge for two more bottles of water, then we make our way into the bedroom. His bed is small, but it's perfect for the two of us to cuddle up in. He gives me a tee-shirt and pair of shorts to wear so that I'm comfortable. The smell is actually what comforts me the most- being surrounded by the scent of Jaron.

  Our legs intertwine with one another, and we hold each other close. His eyes are closed but I can tell he is still awake. I whisper against him. “Thank you Jaron, for this adventure.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he whispers.

  “I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for you.”

  After a second, he says, “I love you. Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

  “I love you, too,” I yawn out.

  *--*--*

  I'm not sure what I'm dreaming about, all I know is that I'm sleeping peacefully and calm when I'm woken up to a loud crash. It takes me a second to realize where I am. It’s near dark out, but I’m still exhausted and Jaron’s still asleep, so I pull on his arm to cuddle a little better, hoping to drift back off to sleep. The door opens, the wood splintering ever so much under the foot of Kyler's kick.

  "You fucking whore," he screams at me.

  "Jaron," I yell. Pushing at his arm but he doesn't even stir. G
rabbing the blankets, I pull them up to my chin, attempting to keep myself safe behind Jaron’s body. I know it's not going to work well but I don't seem to have a choice.

  "Come here, right now," Kyler yells. "We're leaving."

  "No," I tell him, shaking my head. Kicking my foot towards Jaron, I yell his name again but he doesn't do anything. It starts to scare me that nothing has woken him up.

  "I said come here," Kyler grits between his teeth. "We'll discuss this bullshit when we get home. You've done enough to embarrass yourself and me, so let's go before it gets any worse."

  I kick at Jaron once more, this time much harder. "Jaron," I hiss out, ignoring Kyler. When he doesn't do anything, I grab his shoulder, turning him to face me on the bed. His face is pale white with bluish bags under his eyes. He's cold. He’s...

  A fire burns in my scalp as Kyler pulls on my hair, dragging me from my spot on the bed. "The fucker doesn't give a shit about you. No one does except for me. No one can ever love you like I do, so get the fuck over it, Ravyn."

  "Jaron," I yell. Fighting Kyler off doesn't work, but I keep trying to no avail. The pain radiates in my head but it doesn't concern me. What does is that Jaron is ice cold and not moving. I push through the pain, knowing he has a handful of my hair. I want to be by Jaron.

  I barely manage to pull away, but as I do I immediately start to shake Jaron’s shoulders. He is limp. There is no life left to him. "No," I gasp loudly. "This can't be happening."

  Kyler tries to pull on my arm but I push him away and start yelling in hopes that Jamison is here. "Jamison, someone, help! It's Jaron, please! Help!" I don't realize that I'm even crying until I can taste the salt from them in my mouth.

  Kyler is pushed aside and Jamison throws himself down on the floor next to me, pulling out his cellphone before he even has a chance to say anything.

  "Yeah, this is Jamison Spilner," he says into the phone. He tells the dispatcher on the other end where they live and that Jaron is lying here... lifeless.

  I grab his shirt, holding it with everything I have. I cry into him, wishing his arms were around me somehow. I don't feel his warmth, I don't feel his comfort. I can't hear his soft snore that I fell in love with over the weekend. I can't picture his eyes watching me like I'm a painting held up in a museum. I can't.... I can't.... I just can't do this.

  "No," I cry out once more. "Jaron, please baby, come back to me. Please. I love you. I love you so much."

  There is no response though. None.

  Jamison holds my shoulder while he sits next to me, waiting for the ambulance to show up. I don't even realize Kyler is still in here, staring at the situation in horror from the corner, until the EMT's make their way into the bedroom. They move me out of the way, and as much as I don't want to let go, I do.

  I watch as they place his body on the stretcher. I listen to everything they tell Jamison, but it’s all in one ear and out the other. An officer starts to ask me questions, and do my damn near best to answer them, but it’s not easy. And although I know it's all happening, I don't feel existent. I don't feel like I'm here. I'm having an out of body experience. I hate it. I want to exist- in a world with Jaron. Where we can live happily ever after.

  Following the EMT's outside, his dad hastily pulls into the driveway. He runs over to the ambulance, his pickup still running and the door wide open. He doesn't have a care except for his son- the same way I feel. "Can I ride with you?" he asks before I have a chance. I don't expect them to let me anyways.

  When they close the door to the ambulance, they take off with sirens blasting down the road. Cars pull over to the side and I watch heads turn as they wonder who is in there and why. Everything is happening in slow motion. Time starts to stand still for me.

  Looking next to me I realize that Jamison is still here. He’s even holding my hand. I’m so numb I don’t even comprehend any of it.

  He is comforting me in a way his brother should be but can't.

  "Want a ride?" he whispers, watching the ambulance fade away.

  I don't even have to answer. We're already walking towards the truck. I climb into the passenger seat as he hops in behind the wheel of his dad’s pickup.

  It doesn’t take long for him to catch up to the ambulance. We follow behind it until we're at the hospital. Jamison does all the talking to the staff and eventually we're placed in a waiting room where his dad stands, holding his hands folded on top of his head, pacing back and forth.

  He looks over at us, tears pouring down his face as he shakes his head back and forth. I already knew the horrible truth but it wasn't confirmed until this moment. I fall to the ground at my knees, screaming out in pain and agony. He wasn't supposed to leave me yet. I was supposed to have more time with him. He deserved more time. He wasn't supposed to die. Not now.

  The greatest joy that ever took life in my world evaporated into thin air like it never even existed. Vanished. Completely out of reach. I can't savor any more moments with Jaron, I can't fall more deeply in love. He can't save me anymore, and I certainly can't save him. It ended... just like that. As if it didn't even happen. As if falling in love with him is all but a memory.

  I don't recall the next few minutes... or was it hours?- I'm not sure. Everything happens so fast yet so slow. All I can remember are people in and out of the waiting area; doctors, nurses, people I don't recognize. Some I even do. Jamison is kind to me, he holds me, talks to me, tells me it'll all be okay. I’m nonexistent right now. I can’t seem to say anything back, even when I try.

  I know he is saying what he can to comfort me but it doesn't work. Nothing works. I'm an empty shell of myself.

  His dad eventually falls asleep in one of the chairs. I stare at him. I didn't realize how much Jaron looks like him. If he were to grow old, that is what he'd look like.

  Jamison wraps a warm, thick, white blanket over my shoulders. "A nurse gave it to me," he says. I nod my head to reply and lean onto his shoulder when he sits next to me. He puts an arm over my shoulder.

  "Why are you being so nice to me?" I whisper after a minute. It’s the first thing I’ve said since the ambulance took Jaron away. I have to ask. Jamison is Kyler's best friend- and although he's Jaron's brother, they hardly knew one another. They weren't close, or so it didn't seem.

  It takes a minute for him to speak back to me. His voice is hoarse and raspy when he does, obviously holding back more tears. "He was texting me the whole time you were gone," he admits. I look over at him, bewildered by his statement. "Even Justice did a few times. He loved you. A lot.”

  I smile in response, not sure what else to say. Thank you just doesn’t seem to suffice.

  “I... I kind of knew Kyler was an asshole to you. He didn't treat you right. I tried to tell him to leave you alone but he always said he loved you too much."

  Jamison breaks into full blown tears and now I find myself holding him to me. He leans into my embrace and sobs uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, Ravyn,” he bellows out between sobs. “I'm sorry. I should have helped you. I should have done better to stop him. I didn't know he was psychical with you, I just knew he was an ass. I'm so sorry."

  "Shh," I tell him. "It's not your fault. Nothing was your fault." I close my eyes and continue to hold him as we both cry. Cry for Jaron, for Jamison, for me. For everyone effected by the hurt it causes and the memories we share, for the love we all had.

  They say time will heal all wounds, but I don't believe it for a damn second. I don't know how I can overcome any of this pain and torture.

  *--*--*

  Waking up I feel sore and exhausted. It's still dark out, so I know we haven't been sleeping all that long. My body psychically aches from all the crying. Jamison and I lay on the hospital floor next to the chairs. A nurse stands off in the distance talking with Jaron's dad and sister, Justice. I wasn't expecting her to show. At least not quite yet. She had to have sped to make it here already. I sit up and stretch my body out, feeling the cracks and aches. My heart constricts knowing I’ll never
get to see his shining, beautiful face again.

  I walk over, hoping I'm not intruding. Justice spots me before I make it to them and she pushes the nurse aside to come hug me. I hold her close to me, not able to keep the tears at bay. "I wish I could say it's been a long time since I seen you last," she whispers. "How are you?"

  The word, fine, sits at the edge of my tongue but I know Jaron would get pissed if I said those words. He hated it when I did, because it was always a lie. Closing my eyes I tell her the truth. "It hurts… so much."

  "I know baby girl, I know," she whispers. "It hurts me too. We'll get through this though. Together."

  "As I was saying..." the nurse says loud enough for us both to hear.” The funeral arrangements have been made. We only have a few more questions, then we can finish everything on our end."

  Jaron's dad bows his head. "Whatever you need," he responds.

  "Then come with me," she orders him with absolutely no sympathy in her voice.

  "Can I come too?" I ask. "I want to see him one last time."

  She stares at me wide eyed, unsure how to answer at first. After a second she gives a curt nod. "For a moment."

  As we make our way down the hall, she goes over a few things with me. "Please remember, he is going to look a bluish color. His body is swollen right now, and he may look a bit unrecognizable. There are wires and tubes attached to him. It isn't going to be easy to see him this way." She stops in front of a curtain near the nurse’s station. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes," I answer, looking her straight in the face.

  "He is right in here. A nurse will be in there with you. Her name is Jaimie. If you need anything, let her know."

  "Thank you," I whisper before walking through the curtain.

  He is laid out on the table exactly as she explained but it still takes me aback. This isn't supposed to be Jaron. He shouldn't be here. I sit down on the cold, metal chair laid next to the sterling silver table that holds the one person I love more than life itself, and in this moment I hate everyone and everything for taking the two people I care the most about away from me way too early in life. First my dad, now Jaron.