All That Matters (23 page)

Fear spiraled through her as the thought he might have posted the video on one of his pages with the same hashtag. Meg checked all of them, held her breath as each page loaded. The fear eased when she didn't see it there. It was a small thing to be thankful for, but she was thankful that at least for now her secret hadn't been exposed.

<#<#<#<#

Meg looked out the window at the falling snow. “You're right, Sandra. They won't have school tomorrow, but are you sure it's not too much to keep Leo?” She'd barely noticed that the snow which had been falling earlier in light flurries was now coming down fast and furious, fueled by a sharp wind.

“I'm positive. Hell, I might invite him over every day after school. He's a dream.”

“Alright, call me tomorrow when they start to drive you crazy.” Meg hated that she felt relief that she didn't have to put on a happy face for Leo. She ended the call with Sandra and stepped away from the window.

She was still alone in the house. Train hadn't been back. For the past three days, he hadn't been home much. He'd come in after she was already asleep; she'd wake in the middle of the night to feel his warm body next to hers. Just next to hers, not wrapped around her the way that he would normally be.

Bile rose in her throat at the thought that he hadn't touched her in those days because he knew about the video. What if Josh had sent it to him? What if he was so disgusted that he didn't want her? Since they'd started having sex, they had it at least once a day. Meg tried to reassure herself that if he had seen the video, he wouldn't still be there at all. He'd have been long gone. He could just be tired with all the hours he spent working and doing club work, but the worst case scenario just kept pushing to the front.

The storm grew worse as the night went on. Meg dug out the emergency flashlights and some candles when the power started to flicker around nine. By ten o'clock, she was reading by the light of the candles and was very glad that she'd charged her phone, though she didn't dare go on the Internet because she was nearly over her tiny data plan as it was.

The book she was reading was fantastic, about a woman turned into a werewolf after a vicious attack, but she found herself reading the same paragraph over and over because her mind kept wandering. Each hour that passed with Train not being there somehow convinced her that her worst fears were the truth. Finally, she gave up and headed upstairs to bed because she knew that when she woke in the morning, he would be there.

It was still fully dark when Meg woke. The illuminated numbers on the digital clock told her it was just shy of five. The bed next to her was as cold and untouched as it had been when she'd lain down five hours before. Train hadn't come home.

<#<#<#<#

Meg pulled on her snow boots and grabbed her jacket. It was still snowing, but if she stayed in the house one more minute, she was going to lose her mind or what was left of it. The power had come back on earlier that morning, but she honestly expected to lose it again. She'd set everything from the freezer outside to keep it from spoiling. It was certainly cold enough.

She realized she should have come out earlier, or even last night, and shoveled some so that she wasn't facing what had to be ten inches of fresh white snow. The mere thought of how heavy it would be made her back ache, but it had to be done. “One of these years, I'm going to buy a snow blower,” she grumbled to herself as she started to clear the porch. She'd heard one earlier, so she looked around to see if she could see who had the blower. Maybe it was one of the neighbors she knew who would lend it to her without a problem.

Meg scanned the houses that were occupied on the street, most walks and driveways were still covered. When she realized it was Train's house that only had an inch at the most on the ground, she was confused at first. If he'd been home to do his own, why hadn't he done hers, like he had for every single storm since they'd started this?

Her phone rang, and she answered it quickly even when she saw it wasn't Train. “Hey, Sandra.”

“Hey, honey, how'd you make out last night?”

“I lost power for a while, but I figured I would. Figure we will again.”

“Same here.”

“How are the boys?”

“They're good. The highlight of their night was when the power was out. Manuel told them scary stories and then scared the shit out of them.” Sandra laughed. “They're having a great time. Leo's welcome to stay again tonight.”

Meg wanted to protest, but she couldn't stop him from having fun just because the thought of spending the rest of the day with just her thoughts made her want to weep. “If he wants to, and you're sure that it's not too much of a problem, I've got no problem with it.”

“Fantastic, the boys will be thrilled. They're outside right now, building a bad-ass fort, apparently, though right now they've got their hands full fending off Zoe, who has taken offense to not being included in the fort-building. I'm making them soup for lunch. What are you up to?”

“I'm going to try and work up the energy to start digging myself out,” Meg answered. “I should probably get to it.”

“Your old man didn't send someone to do it? Some of the hang-arounds were here earlier with the snow blower. I guess that they were making the rounds, so maybe they just didn't get over to you yet. You should wait and see, or better yet, call Train and tell him to get them there.”

Meg would have done that if not for the fact that his own house had been shoveled. She didn't want to deal with the statement that made. “You're probably right. Let me do that.” It was the easiest way to get Sandra off of the phone. “Tell Leo to behave and to call me later.” She ended the call, put her earbuds in and got to work.

She was about halfway done when a truck came to a stop in front of the house. She didn't know the truck, but she knew the man who got out of the passenger side. Train was the last person that she'd expected to see. She could tell he was angry by the look on his face and the way he moved. Behind him, she saw Manuel get out of the truck and walk to the cab.

“Why are you out here doing this yourself? Why didn't you call me when it wasn't done? I sent guys over here hours ago. Those dumb fucks only did my place. Fucking idiots,” Train fumed. “You must be frozen.”

“Get her inside, I'll handle out here.” Manuel called out from behind him. Meg looked and saw he was taking a snow blower out of the back of his SUV.

“I appreciate it.” Train reached out and grabbed her hand. “I'll catch up with you tomorrow. Let's go. It's freezing out here.” Meg went along with him into the house. She took off her hat and gloves slowly, kept her eyes anywhere but on him because his anger was still obvious. “You really should have called me, Meg. It was stupid to go outside and do it yourself. Look at you, you're so cold you're shaking. I'm going to shove their heads straight up asses.”

“I'm okay,” Meg's voice trembled. She cleared her throat to cover it. “I'm going to make some tea. Do you want some?”

“I'm good. I need to take a shower. I'm filthy. Maybe you could make me a sandwich or something? I'm starving. Did you eat?”

“I did,” Meg lied. “I'll make you something, though.” She waited where she was to see if he'd come over and give her a kiss or touch her, but he didn't.

“Thanks.” He headed up the stairs, and she headed to the kitchen to make him something to eat. A spark of hope had ignited inside of her when she'd seen him walking towards her outside, it had flickered but remained burning as they came inside. As ridiculous as it might be, if he would have kissed her or touched her, she'd have known that they were okay and her secret was still safe. But he didn't, so even if her secret was safe, there was something going on.

Meg started the kettle for her tea and opened the fridge to find something to make for Train. The act of making the food and the tea calmed her a little, or maybe she was just becoming numb to the inevitable. By the time that Train came back down, she'd made him a cheese steak sandwich, and the french fries were nearly done.

“That smells amazing.” Train walked into the kitchen wearing a white tee shirt and pajama pants.

“Sit down, the fries are almost done.” Meg thought, not for the first time that no one should look so good in a simple tee and a pair of plaid pants. He always looked good to her, she was probably biased, though, because she loved him so much.

“You need a hand?”

“No, I'm good.” Meg could feel the unease between them. There wasn't the easy comfort she'd grown to expect. “I've got tea. Manuel left. I went out of offer him something warm to drink, and he was already gone. He did a really nice job.”

“It should have been done hours ago. And you should have called me instead of going out and doing it yourself.” His anger was back, his eyes were dark with it. Meg looked down to see his hands curled into fists.

“Why are you so pissed about it? It's not like I haven't shoveled before. Do you think Josh got out there and did it? I'm perfectly capable of it.”

“If you're capable or not isn't the point,” he growled. “The point is that it's not something that you have to do now. I'll get it taken care of. I'll take care of you and the boys, no matter what that means. You know that right?”

Meg didn't know how to respond. She'd spent the day wallowing in the worst possible places, she'd been sure that he was getting ready to leave her, that he knew her secret, but here he was, pissed because he felt like he'd failed to take care of her. Was her wallowing for nothing, just another product of her crazy mind?

“That hesitation isn't giving me the warm fuzzies. You didn't call because you didn't think that I'd do anything about it.” His eyes narrowed. “Wait a second, did you think I sent someone to do my place and not yours?” The question was so on the mark that Meg suddenly felt naked and completely exposed. She said nothing and knew the moment that he took her answer from it. There was the anger again. “That's it, isn't it?”

“I didn't say that,” Meg protested, but she knew how weak it sounded.

“Sometimes, you really piss me off.” He looked like he wanted to say more but he didn't.

“Sorry,” her reply was automatic but sincere. She'd spent years saying sorry as every third word in an attempt to not rock the boat. It was only since she'd met Train that she'd started to get out of the habit. It looked like things might be coming full circle after all. “You should eat before the food gets cold. What do you want to drink?”

“Fuck the food.” His voice was low, hardly more than a whisper, but she heard him as if he'd shouted. “I don't know why it feels like I need to walk on eggshells around you right now, so why don't you tell me? What's going on with you? Is this because I didn't come home last night? I probably should have called.”

It wasn't exactly an apology, but Meg knew him well enough to know that it was as close as she'd get to one right now. “You probably should have,” she replied carefully, hoping that she wouldn't make him angrier.

“You must have been worried.” His expression softened. “I didn't mean to make you worry. Next time, I'll call. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Come here.”

“What?” Meg looked up at him.

“Come here,” he repeated. Meg walked over to where he stood. She shut her eyes when he cupped her face with his hand. “I've missed you. Missed this.”

“I missed you, too.” Meg felt her hands start to shake.

“You still cold?” His free hand gripped her hips, pulled her closer to him. “Need me to warm you up?”

“I...” Meg swallowed hard. “I love you.”

“I know that,” he replied. “I love you. You sure that you're okay?”

Meg nodded even though she wasn't quite sure what she was. Everything that Train said made a warm hope spark inside of her despite the niggling voice in the back of her mind. The idea that things had gone bad between them had hooked its talons in deeply. “I'm good now.” It even felt a little like the truth as she leaned her head against his chest.

Chapter Thirteen

The vote to bring the former Street Kings into the club as full members passed without a hitch. Train had seen, and been both amused and annoyed at, Buster's surprise when he'd voted for them without hesitation. Manuel, Caesar and Einstein had proved themselves. They would be an asset for the club. The possibility that they would betray Nightshade lingered in the back of his mind, but that was the way he was wired. Trust was hard to dole out for him.