Unraveled (3 page)

Cole's arms
wrap around me tightly and I feel him kiss the top of my head. “I just heard
the news. I came here since Paige isn't my biggest fan,” he says quietly to me.

“I tried
calling you,” I say into his shoulder.

“I saw. How
is Paige?”

I look up at
him and as I meet his green eyes, I realize I really do care about him. It may
not be love but there is
something
there. “She's a wreck,” I manage to
say as guilt and remorse sweeps through me over the fact that I'd cheated on
him the other night. What had I been thinking? Cole may not be perfect but in
the end he's always there for me.

Tate clears
his throat loudly from behind us. “You guys can go out on the patio if you'd
like some privacy.”

It dawns on
me that I'm still in Cole's arms, oblivious to my brother and...Noah.

Crap.

I pull out
of Cole's embrace to find that Tate looks less than thrilled at our display of
affection while Noah is looking at Cole like he'd like to beat him to a pulp,
his jaw slightly clenched.

I realize
the three of them in the same room is asking for trouble. I quickly grab Cole's
hand and lead him outside onto the patio. Cole walks with me and then he sits
down on a lounge chair and immediately pulls me onto his lap. I find myself
leaning into him and I enjoy the feel of his body close to mine.

“Who's the
shirtless guy?” Cole asks as he peers up at me, his eyes strangely watchful as
he waits for my answer.

“Um, that's
Noah. Tate's house mate.”

This has his
eyes narrowing slightly. “I get why your brother doesn't like me, but why is
the other one all pissed?”

“They're
kind of protective,” I say as lightly as I can.

“Isn't that
the one who's deaf?”

“Yes.” I
look for any kind of distraction and I see that Cole's right hand is slightly
swollen and bruised, red scratches marring his knuckles. I pick his hand up
gently and look up, my eyes searching his. “What happened?”

Cole's jaw
clenches as he glances at his battered hand before his fingers slip in between
mine, holding my hand firmly in his. “I hit a wall.”

“When you
found out about, Blake?” I ask, taking note of the dark circles under his eyes
and his slightly messy blond hair. It looked like Cole had a rough weekend and
now the news of Blake's death was obviously taking a toll on him.

“Yeah.”

“I'm sorry.
I know you two were close,” I say softly.

He stares
moodily out at the pool. “I can't believe he's gone. Was he drinking or
something? Normally he's pretty cautious on his motorcycle.”

“The
toxicology report came back today. He was,” I admit.

“So he just
lost control or something?”

“Looks like it.
I think Blake's mom told Paige that he took a corner too fast and he hit a
tree.”

Cole falls
silent for a long moment. “When is the funeral?”

“Tomorrow at
nine-thirty.”

He sighs,
rubbing a hand over his face before looking at me. “I better go find something
decent to wear. Want to come with and help? I'm clueless about that shit.”

“Sure.”

Cole's arms
tighten around me and he leans close, his lips meeting mine. My lips
automatically part as I revel in his familiar taste—a mix between alcohol and
yet something sweet. He kisses me for a long minute and then pulls back. “Let’s
go,” he says as his hand tightens on mine.

We both
stand up and when we enter the kitchen, we find it empty. Tate has the TV on in
the living room and he does his usual grunt as we walk past and leave. When we
walk outside, I look at the unfamiliar car parked in the driveway with
surprise. No wonder no one had heard Cole pull up. “What's up with the car?”

“I'm just
borrowing it from a friend for the weekend. I didn't feel like taking the
motorcycle up the coast.”

I slide in
the passenger side and peer at him as he settles into the driver’s seat. “The
last car you had that you said was a friends turned out to be stolen. This one
legit?”

Cole laughs
as he starts the car up. “Would I drive a stolen car to a cop's house?”

“Knowing
you, yes.”

I'm nervous
about the funeral. I've never been to one before or at least one that I can remember.
I had been too young to remember my parents’ funeral. Actually, I have
absolutely no memories from before the fire. All I have are the nightmares. I
couldn't even remember what my parents looked like or if they'd smiled or
hugged me a lot. It was almost as if my aunt and uncle had begrudged me any
memories of them. They never put any pictures of my parents up at their house.
I literally have nothing from my old life.

My lips
press flat as I study my reflection in the mirror. I still have dark circles
under my eyes and shadows in my gaze. Did people see the guilt that lay within
their depths when they looked at me? I'd had a hand in three deaths now.

Slowly, I
close my eyes and try to calm my thoughts. If I allowed too many dark thoughts
in, I'd be jittery and on edge all day. With the funeral just a short hour
away, that's the last thing I need.

I try to
focus my thoughts on getting ready and I spend fifteen minutes trying to pull
my dark hair into a neat bun at the nape of my neck. Finally, I feel that I am
ready. I'm wearing a nice pair of black pants and a silvery-grayish blouse with
black high heels.

When I open
the bathroom door to leave, I am startled to find Noah standing in the hall,
leaning against the opposite wall. Normally he is long gone by now and I take
in his casual gray tee and the khaki shorts he's wearing. “Aren't you late for
your morning class?” I ask with surprise.

“My first
class doesn't start until ten.”

“But you
always leave around the same time I do or a little before,” I point out.

“I hit the
gym in the morning sometimes.”  His brown eyes run over my dressy outfit.
“You look very nice.”

“Thanks,” I
murmur politely as I leave the bathroom and walk past him to enter my bedroom.
I grab my cell phone and car keys off my dresser before shoving them in the
only purse I own. Cole—believe it or not—felt that taking his motorcycle to
Blake's funeral might be disrespectful, so I was picking him up since he'd
returned his friend's car last night.

I turn
around to find Noah standing in my doorway, his eyes focused on me. “Did you
want something?” I ask with a frown, while on the inside I am sad and
frustrated that things have changed between us. I wish we could go back to the
easy friendship we'd had before we'd almost slept together.

“I want a
lot of things, but for now I'll settle for your undivided attention,” he says
simply.

I look at
him incredulously. “I'm about to leave for a funeral and you want to do this
now?”

He gives me
a level look, his arms crossing over his chest. “No, I don't. But every time it
so much as looks like I'm going to approach you, you run off.”

“I'm not
running off. My best friend's boyfriend died.”

He steps
forward, his eyes on mine. “I understand that, but I have a feeling you'll come
up with all sorts of excuses to avoid this conversation. Am I right?” he asks,
stopping directly in front of me.

“You're
acting like a stalker,” I retort.

His eyes
narrow with displeasure. “Stalking implies the attraction is one sided. We both
know it's not.”

“Noah, not
today,” I say tiredly as I reach up and rub my right temple as it begins to
throb. The day has just began and already my head is aching.

“If it was
just about us, I'd wait.”

My eyes jerk
to his. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes
hold mine steadily as he deliberately says, “I'm talking about your scars.”

The blood
drains from my face and I try not to panic. “The scar on my arm?” I ask,
referring to the scar I now carried on my forearm when I cut too deep the night
of the robbery. I'm praying that Noah isn't going where I think he's going with
this conversation.

“No,
Blayre,” he says quietly. “I'm referring to all those fine little scars on the
insides of your thighs and around your pelvic region. That's why you wanted the
light off, isn't it?” He watches my reaction closely as he waits for my reply.

My heart
quickens and I feel a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. “You're imagining
things.”

“I
felt
them, Blayre. Since the other night, I've been trying to figure out how they
got there. What have you been doing?” He asks softly as his eyes turn grim.

“You're
being ridiculous,” I say abruptly as I quickly move around him and rush down
the hall.

“Run all you
want, but I'll still be here when you get back!” he yells after me.

It's impossible
to concentrate on the sermon during Blake's funeral. Instead, my mind is back
at the house on my conversation with Noah. I'd just assumed that I'd be in the
clear with the lights off the night we made out. The scars on my body were tiny
little lines and they barely raised up from the smoothness of my skin around
them. Whenever I ran my hand over them, I could barely feel them. But then
again, Noah's hand had paused right on top of the scars when I'd instinctively
tensed up. Would he have even noticed if I hadn't given away my sudden
discomfort? His hand had after all just barely grazed the scars as it trailed
up to...

I shift in
my seat at the memory and Cole glances at me questioningly. I manage to flash
him a small smile before turning my attention to the front of the church. I try
hard to concentrate on the service but it's next to impossible.

What if Noah
told Tate his suspicions? I can feel panic rising in my gut and I try to calm
it. Noah hadn't outright accused me of anything at this point. Plus, he has no
proof. If he went to Tate, I could simply deny all of it. I try to assure
myself that nothing has happened. My secret isn't out and it'll stay safe and
hidden.

Shame sweeps
through me though at the thought of Noah possibly having an inkling of what
I've been doing to myself all these years. Out of everyone in my life, Noah is
the last person I would want to find out.

I realize
the sermon is over and Blake's mom is at the podium, giving a heartfelt eulogy
with tear filled eyes. It's time to put aside my own problems and concentrate
on the present.

After the
funeral, I end up driving Cole back to his house before I head over to Paige's.
I'd managed to keep Cole away from Paige at the funeral and burial service. I
hadn't missed the fact that Blake's mom hadn't even acknowledged Cole. Like
Paige, she wasn't a fan of his, either.

Sometimes, I
find myself wishing that I'd listened to Paige's warnings and had never began
to date Cole. He and I are a lot alike in some ways, but sometimes it seems like
the relationship is more trouble than what it's worth. And of course there's
the fact that had I not started seeing Cole, I wouldn't have had a role in the
convenience store robbery that had cost a cop his life.

I am still
waiting for the detectives investigating the case to somehow get a lead on
Cole, but so far nothing pointed them in our direction. There'd been a couple
suspects in the past few weeks, including the owner of the stolen car, but
they'd been cleared. I could tell Tate was agitated over the investigation
which seemed to be going nowhere. He wanted Sean's killer brought to justice
badly and I couldn't blame him.

I've managed
to move on with my life but the guilt I carry is like an ulcer and it's slowly
eating away at me. There were times I thought about coming forward with the
truth, but then I think of how I'd likely end up in prison. Prison scares the
living daylights out of me. I am ashamed that I am not a stronger person. I
should come forward, no matter the repercussions, but I won't.

When I reach
Paige's apartment building, I park in the guest lot and head inside. Paige
answers the door in shorts and a tee, her blonde hair once again in a sloppy
ponytail. I can tell she's losing weight and it bothers me to see her this way.
It's as if she's lost the will to want to live. She silently opens the door
wider so I can step inside. I kick off my high heels and enter the small
apartment. Her little brother was at school, so we were alone.

Paige shuts
the door behind me. “Hungry?”

It's the first
time in two days that she's even thought to offer me food. Normally Paige is so
lost in her misery that she ignores her body's needs and forgets that others
still need to eat. “Are you?” I ask, not wanting to eat in front of her.

She shakes
her head. “I had a sandwich as soon as I got back from the funeral,” she says
as she walks toward the living room and shuts off the TV. Paige seems calmer
today now that the funeral is over with and I follow her into the room. “I need
to talk to you about some things,” she says as she sits down. I take a seat on
the other sofa and hope this has nothing to do with Cole. She takes a deep
breath and exhales as if she's nervous. “I'm pregnant!” she blurts out.

Whatever I
was expecting, it wasn't that. My mouth falls open and I stare at her. Paige is
pregnant?

Paige sighs
and rubs the bridge of her nose. “And before you ask, yes, I'm sure. I took
four tests and they all came back positive.”

“How long
have you known?” I ask slowly, trying to process the shocking news.

“I found out
two days before Blake...crashed his motorcycle. My period was late. I'm about
four weeks along.”

“Did Blake
know?”

Her eyes
fill with tears but she takes a deep breath and pulls herself together. “No. I
wasn't sure how to tell him and he'd been acting so strange. I didn't want to
add to whatever he was dealing with.”

“Are you
going to keep it?” I ask cautiously.

“Absolutely.”
She touches her flat stomach, a flicker of hope now evident in her gaze. “He or
she is innocent, it couldn't help the way it was conceived or the timing of
it.” She gives me her first real smile in days. “I love kids. It'll be tough,
but I think I am up for the challenge.”

“Have you
told Blake's mom?”

Paige's
smile instantly fades. “This baby may not be Blake's. I can't do that to her.”

I'd
forgotten about Ethan. “Oh Paige...”

“It's okay,”
she says quietly. “I've come to terms with the possibility. I have a few shirts
of Blake's here and there are a couple strands of his hair on one of them. When
I'm ready, I'll have the DNA compared to the baby's. If it's Blake's, I'll let
Linda know.”

Paige had
been so miserable the past few days, I'm surprised she'd been in the mindset to
think this all through after just finding out about the pregnancy itself. “Is
there anything I can do to help? You know I'll be here for you every step of
the way,” I promise firmly.

This earns
me an oddly sad look. “I'm not sticking around, Blayre.”

“What do you
mean?”

“I'm leaving
tomorrow morning to go live with extended family. My mom knows about the baby but
she doesn't know the rest. I told her I can't stay here after Blake's death,
that I need to be somewhere without his memories haunting me wherever I go.
She's been pretty understanding about it.”

Paige is
leaving me. I'm devastated but I try to hide it. “Where are you moving to?”

“I can't
tell you that.” She bites her lip, her gaze shying away from me.

“Why not?”

“Blayre,
this baby could be Ethan's. If he finds out I'm pregnant, there's no telling
what he might do. I'm leaving and protecting this baby. You have ties to Ethan
through Cole...”

“So you're
just going to up and leave?” I ask as I stare at her with amazement. My stomach
clenches painfully. “You don't want any sort of contact with me?”

She shakes
her head, her guilty gaze meeting mine. “You're the best friend I've ever had
but now this baby has to come first. I hope you understand.”

I can't sit
still, so I rise to my feet and walk to the living room window that overlooks
the street below. I'm upset that Paige is cutting me out of her life completely
like yesterday's trash. I get that she's protecting herself and the baby, but
she has to know I'd never betray her. I figure it's pointless to argue. I can
see the determination in her eyes and if Paige is set to sever all ties with
me, then that is what she's going to do. I guess maybe we hadn't been as close
as I thought. If this is what it felt like to be burned by a friend, it totally
sucked.

“I'm sorry,”
Paige says softly.

I turn and
look where she still sits on the couch. It's hard not to look at her accusingly
as I say, “Why didn't you tell me this earlier?”

“I made up
my mind yesterday. I wanted another day with you before I left. I suppose it
was selfish.”

“No, I get
it,” I say quietly. Even though I'm upset with how things are going down, I can't
fault her for wanting to protect her baby.

“I feel like
such a bitch. I just...Ethan scares me, Blayre.”