Seal All Exits (Tangled Web #3) (16 page)

“Just forget about me, Kiefer.  You don’t love me.”

“I do.”

She had to stop this now.  She would wind up ripping his heart out, and better to hurt him now while it was fresh and new than later when it would feel like she was performing open-heart surgery without anesthesia.  “I don’t love you back, and I never will.”  His eyes questioned her.  This time, there was no hurt in those green pools—just confusion and a look that bespoke his desire to understand.  “I can’t love, Kiefer.  Don’t you understand that?”

He got closer.  “I don’t believe that.”

She pulled out the knife, poised to stab, and when she had it lined up, she jabbed:  “Then you’re a damned idiot.”  She walked toward the door.  Yeah, it was her room, but she wasn’t going to toss him out.  The only reason why she was hurting him now was to wake him up to the fact that she was no good for anyone, let alone him.  He was one of the sweetest souls she’d ever known, and if she loved him back, she would let him go so that he could be with someone who deserved him.

Wait. 
She
loved
him?

Yeah, she did, and that was why she needed to end it now…before there was no return.

He was frozen in place, still not looking hurt, but maybe unsure.  She couldn’t read him anymore.  She was going to deliver the final blow and then go before she changed her mind.  “Get a fucking clue, Steele.  I was just using you.  You’re hot.  I fucked you.  That’s what I do.  Chew ‘em up and spit ‘em out.  Next.”

Yeah.  That did it.  He was hurting properly like he should have been all along, so now he could get on with his life and forget about her.

She walked the rest of the way to the door.  She stood holding the doorknob for a moment, paused before delivering the final blow.  “I’ll see you in the next life.”

She made a quick exit, almost running down the hall to find the big bathroom.  She needed to collect herself and stop crying.  And then she was going to prove to herself and Kiefer that she wasn’t meant to be happy.

There wasn’t only one way to do it, but she knew the best way…one of the only ways she knew how.

Chapter Eighteen

IT TOOK KIEFER several seconds to realize he’d been holding his breath in, as though someone were punching him in the gut over and over.  In essence, that had been the kind of tumult he’d been experiencing.  Heather had delivered multiple blows to him in the space of seconds.

It didn’t feel real, though.  He couldn’t believe it.

He took a few steps back and sat on the bed again.  He was in doubt about the whole thing.  Heather herself had told him she’d been in therapy, trying to get her shit together.  And he knew she cared about him, in spite of her hateful words just now.  She was struggling with something internal, that he knew, but why couldn’t she believe in him?  In herself?  In
them
?  Was it so hard to believe she didn’t deserve love?

Goddammit.  If he ever met that piece of work who donated sperm to Heather’s existence, that asshole she called father, he’d probably pummel the daylights out of him.  Heather had to be one of the most sensitive women he’d ever known, someone who really listened to him.  She had no idea what she’d done for him over the past few years.

He figured she’d come back when she got her emotions together, so he reclined on the bed for a while.  He decided to pull up his email on his phone while he waited.  He was going to show her he knew better.  Surely, there was something in one of her emails that would prove she was just scared right now.

With that goal in mind, he spent the better part of an hour reading through emails, copying and pasting phrases from her emails into the notes app on his phone.

Kiefer, I think you get me better than most people.

Thanks for “listening,” my friend!

You are
amazing
and I’m so glad you’re in my life, K!

Why can’t you be my roommate?  I could totally spend 24/7 with you.

I’ve never told anyone that stuff before.

You know that old anecdote that’s overused about if you were stranded on an island, who would you want to be there?  Well, I choose
YOU
!!!

He could have continued, but he didn’t have to.  Re-reading so many of their emails to each other and not even getting through half, he was able to confirm that what she’d said today was bullshit.  She was pushing him away.  He didn’t know why, but he didn’t have to be a psychologist to know that was what was happening.

It also struck him in that moment that he’d never deleted a single email exchange between the two of them.  He’d deleted lots of other ones, but not hers, and he knew why.  It was because they were so personal and meant so much, and often when he was having a bad day or week or dealing with feeling like no one gave a shit about him, not on a deep level anyway, all he’d have to do would be to open up one of her emails and read through it and then he’d feel her love all over again.

She said she didn’t care about him, had only been using him.  He now knew that was bullshit and he just had to call her on her bluff.

After another few minutes, he glanced at the time and realized she’d been gone for close to an hour.  He knew then that she wasn’t coming back until she was sure he’d vacated her room.  She was hiding out.  Or maybe she was exploring her feelings to either confirm what she
really
knew was true or trying to convince herself that she’d meant all the awful things she said.

He needed to find her, and there was no reason to delay.  He needed to be the one to convince her, and what better way than with her own words?

He had no idea where to look for her.  Here, her own room, would normally be the first place, but maybe the pool and sauna?  Maybe the deck?  He was going to find Katie first.  Maybe Heather had sought out her other close friend and was baring her soul.  That made the most sense.

Kiefer sat up and walked to the door.  He had to find her, had to help her realize they could do this all together.

* * *

Heather spent the better part of an hour getting her emotions under control.  Yeah, she was no fool.  She knew what that meant.  It meant she really
did
care for Kiefer—loved him back, even—but that was all the more reason to put a stop to it right now…because she would hurt him eventually.  That much she knew.

She splashed cool water on her face, her resolve intact.  She had to prove to herself—
and Kiefer
—that she was no good and that he deserved better, and she only had to find a willing conspirator.

She examined herself in the mirror.  Jesus.  Yeah, she still looked chubby to herself but she’d learned to focus past that by zeroing in on the details.  Her cheeks were pink from crying, but her eyes weren’t as bad as she’d thought they would be.  They were a little glassy but that was okay.  The cool water on her face had helped her skin to calm down from her emotional outburst.  She ran more water and cupped a hand under the faucet, then sipped a little and looked up again.

She couldn’t rely on her own eyes.  She believed she was all right and repeated the mantra that her therapist had taught her a long time ago: 
I am a beautiful creature, and others see me for what I really am.  I must believe what they see.

She sucked in a deep breath through her nostrils and then opened the bathroom door.  Checking the hallway for signs of life, she decided the house was pretty quiet.  She didn’t know where Kiefer had gone, but she was going to avoid him if at all possible.  That meant she’d be tripping stealthily through the house, looking before moving forward.

As she walked past the kitchen, she heard someone in there stirring something on the stove, and she guessed it was Katie getting dinner ready, no doubt.  She saw some guys on the deck, Riley included, and decided to avoid them.  Kiefer could very well be part of the gang.  So she tiptoed toward the front door after first glancing throughout the expanse of the great room to determine that no one was in there before crossing the space.

She was almost there.  Once outside, she’d sneak to her car and pray she still had the spare key in the magnetic box on the underside.  Sure, keeping a key there was stupid, but Heather had lost her keys enough to need it.  Yeah, if she still relied on her daddy, she could get a new car anytime she wanted, or she could call on the locksmith whenever her heart desired, but she’d completely cut herself off from her father two years ago and there was no turning back.  Using him had never hurt him like she’d always hoped, and so she had to cut him out of her life.  It was symbolic, really, and had been meant to be a way of letting it go.  It had never completely worked, though, and she wondered if she’d ever be able to stop hating the man, despising him for his coldness.

Yes.  The door didn’t creak or make a noise at all, and she was slow in opening it.  When she got outside, she pulled it toward herself quietly.  She turned around and noticed that the sun was lower in the sky, heading toward evening.  As she let out a breath, she noticed she was not alone.  The bassist from the band—
Mickey?
—was smoking a cigarette just off the front porch.

Hmm.  Maybe
he
would do.  No need to go back to the bar.  He turned his eyes to her just as she was assessing him.  He was nice looking—light brown hair, long, dark eyes.  He wore a few rings that made him look bad ass—one was a skull ring—and he had a mustache and goatee that wasn’t unlike Kiefer’s.  He had a sleeve too, but she couldn’t see it right now because he was wearing a black leather jacket.

Yeah, he’d definitely do.  She licked her lips.  She knew all the right moves to get a guy to fuck her, but she had to warm him up a little first.  “Mickey, right?”

Her biggest challenge would be keeping him quiet enough that the people on the side of the house on the deck wouldn’t hear their conversation, but she could tell this guy was an easy mark.  She felt bad that he was going to be her next victim, but the best part was that she knew how to make it worth his while.

* * *

Going to Katie had to have been one of the most brilliant things Kiefer had ever done in his life.  She’d equipped him with enough ammunition, along with what he already had, to take down any stupid argument Heather might continue to fling at him.

The problem was he couldn’t find her anywhere—not in the pool area, not in the library, not even in her room after checking again.  And all the bathrooms were empty.  She wasn’t hanging with everyone on the deck (and she hadn’t been helping Katie when he’d asked for her help).  He was considering going back up the hill to see if maybe she’d decided to take another walk back where they’d been earlier.

But he shook his head.  He didn’t think that was likely.  He decided he’d maybe join everyone on the deck and talk to her when she decided to show up again.  She had to come out eventually, right?

His friends greeted him and Johnny even threw a cold root beer at him.  He started to open it when Sage asked, “Dude, what’s up, man?”

Goddammit, he’d never been good at hiding his emotions—good or bad, they showed on his face.  He’d vowed to never play poker for that very reason.  A good part of that game was masking it all, and his face just wouldn’t cooperate with him.  Well, maybe he could avoid a direct answer by asking a question.  “Nothing.  I don’t suppose you’ve seen Heather recently.”  Yeah, she hadn’t wanted anyone to know that the two of them were involved and a question such as that would likely give it away, but he didn’t give a shit anymore.  He wasn’t going to hide it any longer, and maybe that too would help her come clean with the emotions he knew she was feeling too.

Sage shook his head.  “Nope.  Not since earlier today.”

Johnny looked concerned, almost sad, but he said, “Hey, come here a sec.”

Kiefer didn’t like that, not one bit.  In fact, his stomach felt like it was sinking, but he had to know.  He slunk over to Johnny, trying to hold onto a shred of hope but fearing what his mentor was about to tell him.  “Yeah?”

Johnny put an arm around him and led him down the deck farther, away from everyone else’s ears.  “Heather the one you wrote that song about?”

Kiefer swallowed.  Was it that obvious?  “Yeah.”

“Goddammit.”

“Just tell me, J. C.”

The guitarist frowned but nodded.  “It might be nothing, but I can see it in your face, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let someone tear you apart.”  He swallowed.  “I saw her and Mickey walking to the garage a little bit ago.  Like I said, it might be nothing.  Maybe they wanted a beer and had to sneak it since Riley’s back.”

That sinking feeling only grew worse.  After what Heather had told him, he suspected he knew what was going on.  That made it all the more reason for him to go to her, to tell her he knew the truth—
her
truth, the one she was afraid to even admit to herself.  He could brave whatever he was going to find in order to get through to her.  “Yeah, maybe that’s it…but I need to talk to her.”

Johnny looked resigned to it and nodded his head.  “I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks, man.”  Kiefer dug deep and pulled out some courage.  Somehow, he just
knew
what he was going to find but he had to witness it himself anyway.  He already knew what Heather was up to.  He knew it because he was starting to think he knew her better than she knew herself.  Now that she’d let her secrets out of the bag, he understood so much more about her.  He understood all the self-deprecating humor she’d thrown at herself, as well as some of her fears.  All the little comments she’d made that he’d thought had been jokes were likely things she really felt and disguised as comedy.

He started walking slowly at first but then increased his gait as he resolved to do it.  He had to save Heather from herself.  Yeah, he could let her go through with it, but then she’d feel even worse.  He was afraid it would cause her to go into a tailspin.

And it would hurt too.

As he got closer to the garage, he listened with intent.  No moans of pleasure yet, but that didn’t mean shit.  And Heather was Mickey’s type—female.  He didn’t require much more than that.  Well, the guy liked big tits, so Heather had an advantage there as well.

The garage bay doors were closed, and Kiefer wasn’t surprised.  He placed his hand on the doorknob.  Goddamn, this was turning out to be harder than he’d expected.  He let out the air in his lungs, drew in another one, and then turned the knob, pushing the door inward.

He might have expected to find his friend and Heather mid-coitus, but actually
seeing
them making their way there was something quite different.  Mickey was up close, holding Heather by her hips, her back against the refrigerator, and she was unbuttoning her blouse.  Yeah, there were three beer cans on Katie’s red car too, so they’d primed themselves with a little alcohol.  Mickey was moving his face toward Heather’s neck and Kiefer felt a sudden surge of rage and jealousy, in spite of the fact that he’d determined not to go all caveman.  What pissed him off more was that they didn’t even notice him when he’d opened the door.

He scowled and pulled the door behind him hard, so hard that the dust on the floor by his feet swirled and arced upward.  The noise was perfect, because it got their attention.  Mickey looked up and Heather turned her head, her eyes wide.  Mickey seemed confused and then gave Kiefer a look his friend had seen more than once on the tour bus and backstage—it was a look that said,
Amscray, dude.  I’m getting my rocks off here and I’ll be done in a fucking second.
  It was followed by a second look he’d seen multiple times as well, and that one said,
Fine, you fucking perv.  I’m gonna fuck this chick and go ahead and watch if you need to.
  Mickey pulled Heather closer then, having communicated to his bandmate through eye contact, and even though Kiefer’s blood was still boiling, he wasn’t mad at his friend.