Aflame (Fall Away #4) Page 3

  But the other part of me knew that she’d recovered. She’d earned a second chance, and after five years sober, I guessed she was ready for it. She’d also been a perfect surrogate mother to my half-brother, Jax, when he came to live with us, and she had an amazing support system now.

  Just one that hadn’t included me since I’d been absent.

  Her stepson, Madoc, and his wife, Fallon; Jax and his girlfriend, Juliet; my mother’s husband, Jason; the housekeeper, Addie . . . everyone was there for her except me.

  I shook my head clear and turned back to the screen. “Jesus . . . Mom, I . . . I’m . . .” I was stammering badly. I had no clue what to say or do. I wasn’t touchy-feely or good with this kind of stuff.

  “Mom.” I swallowed and looked her in the eye. “I’m happy for you. I never would’ve thought—”

  “That I wanted more kids?” she cut in. “I want all of my kids, Jared. I miss you very much,” she admitted. “Madoc and Fallon are watching over me, since Jason is finishing up a case in the city, and Jax and Juliet are being wonderful, but I want you here. Come home. Please.”

  I cleared my throat. Home.

  “Mom, my schedule is . . .” I searched for an excuse. “I’ll try, but it’s just—”

  “Tate’s not here,” she cut me off, dropping her gaze. My pulse echoed in my ears.

  “If that’s what you’re worried about,” she explained. “Her father is in Italy for a few months, so she’s spending the summer there.”

  I tipped my chin down, inhaling a hard breath.

  Tate’s not home.

  Good. My jaw hardened. That’s good. I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I could go home and spend time with my family, and it could be done with. I wouldn’t have to see her.

  I hated to admit it, even to myself, but I’d been afraid of running into her. So much so that I hadn’t gone home.

  I ran my palm down my thigh, ridding myself of the sweat that always came when I thought about her. Even though I’d left to make myself whole, there was still a piece of me that seemed forever hollow.

  A piece only she ever filled.

  I couldn’t see her and not want her. Or not want to hate her.

  “Jared?” My mother was talking, and I evened out my expression.

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “I’m here.”

  “Listen to me,” she ordered. “This isn’t about why you’ve been away. This is about your sister. That’s all I want you to think about right now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I . . .” Her eyes fell, and she looked to be searching for words. “I never know what you’re thinking, Jared. You’re so guarded, and I wanted to have you to myself to tell you this in person. You never find time to come home, however, and I’ve waited as long as I can.”

  I didn’t know why it bugged me that my mom had a hard time talking to me. I guess I’d never really thought about it, but since she’d put it out there, I realized I didn’t like that I made her nervous.

  She took a deep breath and looked at me, her eyes kind but serious. “We need you,” she said softly. “Madoc will be the one playing with all of her toys with her. Jax will be climbing mountains with her on his shoulders. But you’re her shield, Jared. The one who will make sure she is never hurt. I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Quinn Caruthers needs all of her brothers.”

  I couldn’t help it—I smiled.

  Quinn Caruthers. My sister. She had a name already.

  And hell yes I was going to be there for that.

  I nodded, giving her my answer.

  “Good.” A relieved look crossed her face. “Jax emailed you a plane ticket.”

  And then she clicked off.

  Chapter 2

  Jared

  Two Years Ago

  I love mornings like this. Mornings when I wake up first, and I can just watch her sleep for a few minutes. The smooth, glowing skin of her chest rises and falls with her shallow breaths, and I know that if I slide my fingers up her back, underneath her tank top, I’ll feel her sweat. She overheats when she sleeps.

  I relax into the chair by her window, watching her soft pink lips purse as she starts to stir. Her long, slender neck calls to me, and I’m desperate.

  Fucking desperate never to leave her. Wanting never to do what I know I have to do right now.

  Tate holds my heart, and I could choke trying to swallow and bury my need for her.

  I try to remember the good things. The things that will keep me alive in her heart while I’m away. The rainy nights in my car. How the skin of her neck tastes different from the skin of her lips. How hot she gets under the sheets.

  How I hate sleeping alone now.

  Her phone starts vibrating on her nightstand, and I tighten my fists, knowing that everything is about to fall apart.

  When she wakes, I have to hurt her.

  Her head turns to the other side, and I see her eyes flutter open, her body coming to life. She inhales a deep breath and slowly pulls herself to a sitting position. She notices me right away and holds my gaze across the room. A small smile dances across her face until she sees me not smiling back.

  I nod to her phone, hoping she’ll answer it and give me a minute. Heat floods my chest, and my heart pounds. I need to be able to do this. For her, and for me.

  For our future together.

  She looks at her phone, swiping her thumb up and down the screen, and then back up at me. “They made it,” she whispers. “They’re in New Zealand.”

  She’s talking about Jax and Juliet. I’d driven them to the airport yesterday, and they must’ve been texting to let her know that they arrived safely. I probably had the same text, but my phone was in my duffel bag at my feet.

  “Where are you going?” she asks, noticing the bag.

  I drop my eyes but look up again, determined not to be a fucking coward. “I’m leaving for a while, Tate.” I try to keep my voice soft.

  Her eyes turn worried. “ROTC?” she asks.

  “No.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I . . .” I let out a breath, speaking slowly. “Tate, I love you—”

  But she throws off her sheets and starts breathing hard, already knowing where this is going. With her long blond hair pulled back into a low ponytail, I can see the realization written all over her face.

  “Jax was right,” she rasps.

  “Jax is always right,” I admit, wishing I could keep doing what I’d been doing for the past two years. Just take her lips, turn off the lights, and shut out the world.

  My brother can voice what everyone else is afraid to face, and he knows me like he knows himself. I’m unhappy, and I can’t use Tate to hold me up anymore.

  “Continuing like this . . .” I shake my head. “I’d make you miserable.”

  My brother knows that I hate ROTC. He knew without my telling him that I hate my life in Chicago. I hate school. I hate the apartment. I hate feeling like I’m a lost puzzle piece.

  Where the hell did I fit?

  And since Tate had overheard Jax and me the other day, now she’s on to me, too. It’s time to own up.

  Fuck up, own up, and then get up.

  Her eyes shoot to mine, and I can see the tears pooling there. “Jared, if you want to quit ROTC, then quit,” she cries. “I don’t care. You can study anything. Or nothing. Just—”

  “I don’t know what I want!” I burst out, yelling so I won’t cry. “That’s the problem, Tate. I need to figure things out.”

  “Away from me,” she snaps.

  I stand up, running a hand through my hair. “You’re not the problem, babe.” I try to soothe her. “You’re the only thing that I’m sure of. But I need to grow up, and it’s not happening here.”

  I’m twenty, and all I know about myself is that I love Tatum Brandt.

  Two years ago I thought that was e
nough.

  “Here, where?” she prods. “Chicago? Shelburne Falls? Or around me?”

  I clench my jaw and stare out her French doors. I just want to grab her and keep her. I don’t want to leave.

  But I can’t do what she wants me to do. I can’t quit school to find myself and be around her at the same time. What do I do? Stay home all day, wander the city, take on odd jobs as I explore my options for who knows how many years while she comes home every day from her classes, which keep her life moving forward?

  I hate to put it like this, but the raw truth? My pride can’t take it.

  I can’t be the deadbeat boyfriend doing shit with his life as he figures himself out while she’s there to see it.

  But I will come back. I’ll always want her.

  She sits on the bed where we’ve slept next to each other for nearly ten years. The bed where I’ve made love to her countless times, and I feel like a candy-ass right now. I’m a fucking coward because I need to leave, and a coward because I don’t want to. I feel myself giving in.

  But I clear my throat and meet her eyes, pushing forward. “The apartment is paid up for the school year, so you don’t have to worry—”

  “A year!” she cuts me off, shooting out of bed. “A fucking year! Are you kidding me?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing, okay?” I admit. “I don’t feel like I fit in at college! I feel like you’re moving a hundred miles an hour, and I’m constantly trying to catch up!”

  She shakes her head at me, unable to believe what’s happening.

  I steady my voice, speaking firmly. I have to do this. “You know what you’re doing and what you want, Tate, and I’m . . .” I steel my jaw. “I’m fucking blind. I can’t breathe.”

  She turns away to hide tears I know are falling. “You can’t breathe,” she repeats, and my stomach knots. Did she think that this didn’t hurt me, too?

  “Baby.” I pull her around to face me. “I love you.” I look into her storm blue eyes. “I love you so goddamn much. I just . . . I just need time,” I plead. “Some space, to figure out who I am and what I want.”

  Her eyes search mine as she lowers her voice. “So what happens?” she asks. “What happens when you find the life you’re looking for?”

  I straighten my back, taken by surprise. There was no future without her in it. She had to know that.

  “I don’t know yet,” I admit. I didn’t know where I’d end up, what I’d be doing, but she was mine. Always.

  I would be coming home again.

  She nods. “I do,” she says, her voice turning clipped. “You didn’t come in here to tell me you’ll be back. That you’ll call or we’ll text. You came in here to break up with me.”

  She pulls away and tries to turn around, but I catch her. “Baby, come here.”

  But she brings her arms down, severing my hold. “Oh, just get out!” she shouts, looking up at me with fire in her eyes. “You cut off everyone who loves you. You’re pathetic. I should be used to this by now.”

  “Tate—”

  “Just leave!” she shouts and walks for her bedroom door, yanking it open. “I’m sick of the sight of you, Jared. Just go.”

  I shake my head, narrowing my eyes on her. “No,” I argue. “I need you to understand.”

  She lifts a defiant chin. “All I’ll ever understand is that you needed to live a life without me in it, so just go and do that.”

  “I don’t want this.” I search for the words to get her back. “Not like this. I don’t want to hurt you. Just sit down, so we can talk. I can’t leave you like this,” I press. Why can’t she understand? I’m not leaving her. I’m coming back.

  But she shakes her head. “And I won’t let you stay. You need to be free? Then, go. Get out.”

  I swallow the hard lump in my throat and watch her. What the hell’s happening? Regret races through my brain as I think that maybe I should’ve done this differently. Sat her down and eased into it. But I don’t know how to do that shit. I don’t know how to be gentle.

  Fuck, I’d blindsided her. Even though we’d been distant the past week, I knew she wasn’t expecting this.

  After everything I’d done to her over the years, she still doesn’t trust me. She doesn’t see that I’m trying to be strong. That I’m trying to be a man. All she sees right now is me causing her more pain, and she’s had enough.

  “Now,” she orders, her tears drying on her face.

  I let my eyes fall, and every muscle in my arms tenses with the urge to charge her. Take her, hold her to me, and will her to melt into me like she always does. I have to have Tate in my life.

  She’ll wait for me.

  And as I grab my bag and leave, I know that I’ll be back. I have to do this, but I will be back for her.

  I didn’t even need a year, either. Only six months.

  Turns out six months was too long.

  ***

  “Awesome,” Pasha bit out, peering out the window of her first-class seat. “I totally get what they mean by ‘flyover state’ now.”

  I ignored her distaste for whatever she was seeing out there and stuffed my iPad into my carry-on, nudging it back under my seat with my foot.

  “Cheer up,” I sighed. “We have cars and liquor and cigarettes in Shelburne Falls, too. It will feel just like home to you.”

  She settled back into her seat, and I could feel her little scowl directed at the seat in front of her. “Looking forward to it.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “I do get to get drunk tonight, right?” she confirmed.

  I grinned and closed my eyes against the popping in my ears as we descended. “As long as you are glued to my side, I don’t give a shit what you do.”

  I could hear her short, aggravated breaths, and I wondered—probably as much as she did—why I felt the need to drag her with me. “This is weird,” she grumbled. “You’re weird. Why do I have to be here?”

  “Because I pay—”

  “You to,” she finished. “Well, someday when you want a kidney, it’s really going to cost you, man.”

  I licked my lips, envisioning an invisible hand pressing on my heart to slow that fucker down. In a minute, I’d be back at home base, and even though Tate wasn’t there, I was nervous. Seeing my house, her house next door, our old high school . . . and my best friend, who wasn’t talking to me . . .

  Jesus, I was a little bitch.

  I twisted my head, still lying on the headrest. “Pasha?” I mumbled softly. “What do you want me to say? That I can’t chew my food without you these days?” I shrugged. “I’d rather have you around and not need you than need you and not have you.”

  Her dark eyebrows—the right one adorned with two barbells—pinched together, and she looked over at me like I’d grown a horn. I’m sure she knew it, but I’d certainly never admitted it before. I relied on her a lot, and it was a perfect arrangement, because she liked to be needed. Neglect did that to people.

  As much as I liked her dad, he was about as good a parent as my mom was when I was growing up.

  Pasha turned out well, though. She reeled me back in when I was drowning and made a lot of decisions for me when I couldn’t. She got me out of the pit crew and turned me on to motorcycles, hooked me up with sponsors and investors, and convinced me to buy into the shop. None of this happened over calm and reasonable business dinners—more like her screaming at me to get my head out of my ass—but before I knew it, I had so much shit going on, there was no time to think. She filled my life with noise when the quiet was too dangerous.

  I not only needed her, but I wanted her around.

  And now she knew it.

  She was probably going to ask for another fucking raise.

  ***

  Jax was waiting outside the terminal even though I’d told him I would text when we were at passenger pickup.

&n
bsp; But I grinned anyway the minute I saw him, barely noticing Pasha zoom past us to go outside for a cigarette.

  “Hey.” I hooked an arm around Jax’s neck and pulled him in, dropping my duffel on the floor.

  “Hey,” he said for only me to hear. “I missed you.”

  I let my eyes close for a second, all of a sudden weighted down by how long I’d been away from him. We’d kept in regular contact, and even though I’d stayed away only to avoid one particular person, Jax had suffered the price, too.

  I was his blood. The only blood he had.

  Pulling away, I took stock of everything that hadn’t changed. His black hair, styled to look like he’d just run his fingers through it, and his blue eyes were the same vibrant azure as the last time I’d seen him. No scars or bruises that I could see, so I knew he was keeping out of trouble.

  Not that Jax got in regular fights anyway, but instinct told me to make sure. He still dressed in jeans and black T-shirts, matching me almost to a tee. I shook my head when I realized he was also taking stock of me, and then he finally relaxed, putting an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

  “Juliet.” I finally looked over, seeing her slip a hand around his waist.

  She smiled and then greeted me. “It’s good to see you.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I didn’t really care. She and I got along fine, but we weren’t—and probably never would be—besties. I had a limited tolerance for mindless chatter, and she seemed to regard me with less and less cordiality as well. Probably because of Tate.

  Back in high school, Juliet went by her sister’s initials, K.C. When she started dating my brother two years ago, she reclaimed her birth name, and it still took some getting used to for me.

  I picked up my bag and looked at both of them. “I hear congratulations are in order,” I told Juliet. “Teaching in Costa Rica? You two ready for that?”

  Juliet had just graduated with her teaching degree, and since Jax had also beaten the clock and finished college early, the two of them were headed to Central America in the fall. Jax had told me a few weeks back that she had signed a one-year contract, but I hadn’t talked to Juliet about it at all.