Very Wicked Things (12 page)

Heather-Lynn patted my hand. “It’s okay, Dovey. We’ll pay him back.”

With what?

Cuba’s jaw tightened. ‘Dovey, someone came into your home today,
threatening you
. If what you’re saying is true, then they’ll be back. Call the police or I will.”

Fear slammed into me at the thought of policemen showing up at our house, blue lights flashing. It would be a death sentence as soon as Barinsky found out.

I had to end this now. “
I
can handle this. And face it, you don’t know jack about my world. Anything you think you know about the mob, you saw at the movies. So stop interfering. You’ll only make things worse.” I took in a deep breath, needing space from him, from everything. “Excuse me, but I wanna check on Sarah. Thank you for the ride home.”

I gave him one last lingering look and left the kitchen, going straight to Sarah’s room.

“Regret is a bitter pill to swallow.”

–
Cuba

SHE LEFT THE kitchen upset with me, taking all my air with her.

I wanted to call her back and wipe that frantic look off her face. But, she didn’t want my advice or help. That much was obvious.

And what the fuck was she doing involved with gangsters?

“You like her? Maybe more?” Heather-Lynn asked, a knowing glint in her eye.

“Nobody comes down to Ratcliffe for fun,” I replied.

She quirked a brow and Ricky yipped at me, his little teeth gleaming. Yeah, even the dog knew I was no-good.

“Thank you for the tea.” I set my cup on the counter, my hand trembling like a feeble old man.

What was wrong with me?

But didn’t I know?
She
made me like this. Being near Dovey made me all kinds of off-kilter. It was nuts to even be near her, yet I’d given her a ride, talked about Cara, and had had a cup of tea in her house. All in the space of a day.

And back in the hallway, I’d wanted to kiss her.

I needed to get the fuck out of here and get myself back on track.

“Don’t be breaking her heart again,” she said tartly as if reading my mind.

I cringed.

“Mmm-hmm, I know who you are,” she said. “Hollywood.”

And that nickname haunted me. Because I wasn’t that person anymore. Deep down, I wasn’t the charming and carefree guy everyone thought. I was self-centered and—

“I have to see Dovey before I go,” I said suddenly, needing to talk to her.

“Down the hall on the left, hotrod,” she murmured, shooing me out the door.

I left the kitchen and stopped at an open door where a lamp was lit, spreading its glow on Dovey as she rested behind a sleeping older lady I assumed was Sarah.

I paused, taking in the scene, noticing how protective Dovey seemed as she cradled Sarah’s waist. I realized she’d been attending BA and doing ballet as usual even though her guardian was slowly dying.

My phone pinged and I pulled it out. It was a text from my dad, telling me he was staying in the city again tonight. No surprise there. His absence stung, and I rubbed my chest, wanting to erase the guilt that lay there
.

Perhaps hearing my phone, Dovey’s eyes opened, automatically finding mine through the open door. Sadness swept over me. For us, for what I’d done. And like a dark cloud, loneliness descended, making me ache, making me want to
go to her
.

She sent me a questioning look, as if sensing my distress. She smiled softly, and something in me cracked.

Thank God, she didn’t turn away—when I had rejected her.

I stood there, pumping myself up, wishing I had the nerve to go in and just—I don’t know—let her hold me like she was holding Sarah, just
something
. I wanted to lie down with her on that bed until our breaths were in sync; I wanted to hang on to her like I’d die without her; I wanted to touch every hair on her head and bury my nose in her scent. And it wasn’t a sexual thing. Not at all. Because she was so much more. She was someone who’d loved me at one point, and right now, I just needed some forgiveness for the things I’d done. My body shifted and
I wanted to go in
, but my fists clenched, and I backed away from the door and fell against the wall, away from her gaze.

She’d refused my apology. She hadn’t taken my jacket.

“Cuba,” she whispered from inside the room, and I straightened up, heart hammering. It didn’t take much to get me to moving when it came to her. Never had.

I walked in, getting my words together, picking at my track pants. There was so much between us, her problems, my problems, our past.

She eased out of the bed, checked to make sure Sarah was still asleep, and tucked the covers around her with light hands.

Then she came to me.

I swallowed, suddenly wanting—no needing—for her to see the real me. To know the truth. “I mentioned Cara earlier…” I drifted off. Afraid of what she’d think.

“Yeah. You wanna talk?”

I nodded and leaned against the bedroom wall, my body boneless. “My sister loved to ride horses and play soccer, a tomboy, I guess. One day—” my voice broke, but I coughed, yanking it back.

“My mom left her with me so she could go shopping. We played inside that day because of the rain. We watched a Disney movie, something about princesses or fairies. I—I got distracted by a phone call from one of my buddies. We started talking about sports and girls, and before I knew it, she’d slipped out the door. And then sh—she rode her bike out into the street. A truck ran her down and ended up wrapped around a tree. Cara…she died in my arms. The man driving passed away at the hospital from injuries. I wasn’t paying attention. I—I killed them
.
” My voice splintered, my entire body aching from remembering everything: the screech of tires I’d heard from the house, the thumping sounds of my feet as I ran down our long drive, the groans that came out of Cara, and then the terrifying screams that had erupted from me until I had nothing left.

And finally the sirens.

I beat my fist against the side of my head. Trying to knock it out, make it all go away.
God, please.

She pulled down my hand, her eyes bright. “Oh, Cuba, please don’t hurt yourself,” she said gently. “You were a kid.”

I shook my head. “I kept thinking she was okay because there wasn’t any blood, you know? Not a drop anywhere, but she was all broken on the inside.” I chewed the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling out. “People say everything happens for a reason. Do you think fate or God or whatever is out there, wanted my sister to die? Wanted it to be by my hands?”

Her eyes softened. “No, life just happens, bad and good. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. Did a higher power give Sarah a deadly disease? Or make my mama an addict? I don’t think so. Life is choices. It’s how we go on that makes us who we are.”

I paused, forgetting about myself for a second. “You never told me about your mom.”

“I didn’t trust you,” she said sadly.

My hands clenched. “Yeah, I’m a selfish fuck.”

“I remember you when you weren’t,” she said.

“Don’t be fooled by me, Dovey.”

She ignored me, taking one of my hands and unfurling the clenched fist. She pressed our hands together, palm to palm, her eyes soft with—
God, I wanted it to be love
.

I bowed my head and
yes, yes, yes
, I wanted to sink into her softness; I wanted to drown in her gentle touch; I wanted to fall to my knees and cling to her waist for a thousand years.

I just needed this,
her.

I leaned into her, inhaling her wildflower smell.

Regret filled me for the love I’d thrown away when I’d used her.

“I wish I could take this heartache from you,” she whispered, her eyes bright with emotion.

And that was enough to make me feel lighter than I had in months, knowing she understood. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and pulling her to me, gently so she wouldn’t flee. My head rested on hers, and I rubbed my face against her hair, enjoying the closeness, the warmth, the
intimacy
. I had to. Just this one horrific day, I wanted her tenderness and perhaps her absolution.

After a while, she pulled away, and I stepped back, feeling awkward and self-conscious. My need for her hadn’t diminished. Could she tell? Yeah, that was dangerous ground.

Needing some distance, I left her and pulled the curtains back from the window to check the street. The Mercedes was gone. “If that car comes back, call me. And you damn well better call me if those men come back.”

She scoffed. “Barinsky’s men coming over was a huge misunderstanding. I’ll straighten it out tomorrow.” She smiled brightly, but I wasn’t so sure. It felt like she was trying to downplay it.

“Why don’t I stay the night?” I offered. “Or better yet, come home with me. I have plenty of room for you and your family, Dovey.” And then neither of us would be alone. Maybe we could sit out by the pool and talk. Maybe, just maybe, I’d tell her more of what was eating me; I’d tell her why this entire year had changed me into someone she didn’t recognize.

“Cuba, go home,” she said. “I don’t want your help.”

My body flinched. What had I expected? That we’d be best buds now?

Whatever.

And didn’t I need to stay away from her anyway?

Yeah, there’d be no getting her back
someday
. Not that I wanted to, because I didn’t.

I didn’t.

“I didn’t want something I needed. I wanted Cuba.”

–
Dovey

AFTER HE LEFT, I went back to the kitchen and found Heather-Lynn. I needed details.

“Why would you think asking Cuba for money was a good idea?” I asked her, still irritated with her audacity.

She opened a can of tomato soup and poured it into a pot. “Because these men will do whatever it takes to get their money. Remember what happened to old man Carson, the one who used to own the tobacco place? Those men cut off his fingers when he didn’t agree to sell his store.”

“That’s just gossip,” I said, downplaying what I knew to be truth. I rummaged around and found the pan to make us grilled cheeses to go with the soup.

She grunted. “In case you didn’t know, Carson’s new nickname is Nubs. Face it. We’re in over our heads.”