Life After Taylah
Page 64
“What do you want me to say, Kelly?” I whisper, exhausted. “That it will all be okay?”
“It will be okay.”
“For you, perhaps.”
“It’ll get easier, Av, you have to believe that.”
I nod, too tired and too broken to argue. He pulls me into his arms and I let him. Right now I’ll take any comfort I can get. My broken heart just needs something to make it feel better, just for a moment. My tears slide out and soak Kelly’s shirt.
“It’s going to be okay, honey,” he soothes.
He pulls back and looks down at my tear-stricken face. He uses his thumbs to wipe those tears away, then gently whispers, “I’m going to make you some tea and put you to bed, okay?”
I nod, collapsing down onto the couch as he goes and makes me a cup of tea. I slowly sip it when he hands it to me, and we sit silently on the couch together until I’m finished. Then he takes me upstairs to my bed and tucks me in. He stares down at me with a worried expression. “You going to be okay?”
“Kelly?” I croak.
“Yeah?”
“Will you . . . will you lay with me until I go to sleep?”
“Of course,” he says, dropping onto the bed beside me.
He tucks my body into his and he lies there with me until my eyes flutter closed from exhaustion. Then he stays with me all night.
I’m grateful to him for that.
~*~*~*~
I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t be here.
I duck down behind the crowd as Nate’s name is announced. I’m here, at his race, knowing that I shouldn’t be, but I had to see him. I just had to see he was okay. I can’t think of anything else but him, and I need to know that he’s surviving without me. I just need to let my eyes fall on him.
I sound crazy, I know. Hell, I feel crazy, but I couldn’t stay away.
I hear the loud rumbling of bikes and a moment later he’s in view. My breath hitches in my throat as I watch him from my position in the crowd. I can’t see his face, but it’s him: I know that man and that bike. My throat grows thick and my body aches as the timer begins and he speeds off. My hand goes to my chest. Keep it together, Avery. Keep it together.
I watch, my eyes fixed to him and only him as he goes around the track. It’s going onto late afternoon now and he’s the last race of the day. His score today means a lot in his overall chance to make it to the States for championships. The sun is just dropping over the horizon and the sky is turning a flaming red. I watch Nate near a jump and my heart leaps into my throat. It’s a big jump. He pushes the bike forward and launches off, soaring across it.
Please. Please.
He deserves this.
He lands and his bike bounces, then right before my eyes he soars over the handlebars. The crowd gasps, and then everyone falls silent. I stop breathing as his body is sent flying across the dirt before landing with a thump. Oh God, Nate. I rush forward, trying to get a better view but the crowd is pushing forward like animals, all desperate for a piece of the action.
I’m shoved backwards towards the vans and trucks. I rush into them, wondering if there’s somewhere I can get a better view. God, what if he’s hurt? Or worse? I run around the side of a massive truck and come out at a different location, but there’s still too many people. Frantic, I push on further, getting closer to where Nate landed. The crowd is thick around that location, leaving no room to view him.
“Is he okay?” I ask a man who is walking out of the crowd and towards the trucks. He stares down at me.
“He’s fine, up and storming off. Typical.”
I breathe a sigh of relief and duck back behind a truck, pressing my back to it. I shouldn’t be here; I don’t know why I am. It’s dangerous, risky, and it only makes me want to rush to him. He’s not mine. He didn’t choose you. I hurry down through the trucks again, rounding a corner and finding myself confused. I look up, trying to remember where I was sitting. I turn and head back the other way, planning to retrace my steps. These grounds are huge and if I exit at the wrong place, I could be walking for hours before I find my car.
I step around behind another large truck when I hear an almighty crack. I jump backwards and stare towards the sound only to see Nate. Oh, God. He’s got his fist raised and he’s pounding it into the side of a giant, red truck. He’s covered in dirt and there’s blood trickling from a gash on his knuckles. I want to turn and run away, but I’m frozen to the dirt. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him, and being this close to him again has everything in me sparking to life.
As if he can feel me, he turns and looks my way. I gasp as I see his face. He looks tired and worn, his eyes dark and tired, his cheeks high because his eyes are sunken. His expression turns to one of pure shock for a second as he turns his body towards mine.
“Avery?” he croaks.
“I . . .” I begin. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to . . . I wanted to get out and I was lost. I didn’t mean for you to see me and . . . I . . .”
He walks towards me, his body big and powerful, his expression determined. When he reaches me, his hand lashes out and curls around my neck as his eyes scan my face.
“Tryin’ to forget you,” he rasps. “Tryin’ to make myself stop feeling. Can’t . . . Fuckin’ can’t.”
“I . . .” I whisper, staring up at him. “You scared me out there.”
“Fucked up my race,” he growls. “Fucked it up because my head is gone. I can’t think. Can’t fuckin’ feel. All I want is you—fuck, all I need is you.”
“It will be okay.”
“For you, perhaps.”
“It’ll get easier, Av, you have to believe that.”
I nod, too tired and too broken to argue. He pulls me into his arms and I let him. Right now I’ll take any comfort I can get. My broken heart just needs something to make it feel better, just for a moment. My tears slide out and soak Kelly’s shirt.
“It’s going to be okay, honey,” he soothes.
He pulls back and looks down at my tear-stricken face. He uses his thumbs to wipe those tears away, then gently whispers, “I’m going to make you some tea and put you to bed, okay?”
I nod, collapsing down onto the couch as he goes and makes me a cup of tea. I slowly sip it when he hands it to me, and we sit silently on the couch together until I’m finished. Then he takes me upstairs to my bed and tucks me in. He stares down at me with a worried expression. “You going to be okay?”
“Kelly?” I croak.
“Yeah?”
“Will you . . . will you lay with me until I go to sleep?”
“Of course,” he says, dropping onto the bed beside me.
He tucks my body into his and he lies there with me until my eyes flutter closed from exhaustion. Then he stays with me all night.
I’m grateful to him for that.
~*~*~*~
I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t be here.
I duck down behind the crowd as Nate’s name is announced. I’m here, at his race, knowing that I shouldn’t be, but I had to see him. I just had to see he was okay. I can’t think of anything else but him, and I need to know that he’s surviving without me. I just need to let my eyes fall on him.
I sound crazy, I know. Hell, I feel crazy, but I couldn’t stay away.
I hear the loud rumbling of bikes and a moment later he’s in view. My breath hitches in my throat as I watch him from my position in the crowd. I can’t see his face, but it’s him: I know that man and that bike. My throat grows thick and my body aches as the timer begins and he speeds off. My hand goes to my chest. Keep it together, Avery. Keep it together.
I watch, my eyes fixed to him and only him as he goes around the track. It’s going onto late afternoon now and he’s the last race of the day. His score today means a lot in his overall chance to make it to the States for championships. The sun is just dropping over the horizon and the sky is turning a flaming red. I watch Nate near a jump and my heart leaps into my throat. It’s a big jump. He pushes the bike forward and launches off, soaring across it.
Please. Please.
He deserves this.
He lands and his bike bounces, then right before my eyes he soars over the handlebars. The crowd gasps, and then everyone falls silent. I stop breathing as his body is sent flying across the dirt before landing with a thump. Oh God, Nate. I rush forward, trying to get a better view but the crowd is pushing forward like animals, all desperate for a piece of the action.
I’m shoved backwards towards the vans and trucks. I rush into them, wondering if there’s somewhere I can get a better view. God, what if he’s hurt? Or worse? I run around the side of a massive truck and come out at a different location, but there’s still too many people. Frantic, I push on further, getting closer to where Nate landed. The crowd is thick around that location, leaving no room to view him.
“Is he okay?” I ask a man who is walking out of the crowd and towards the trucks. He stares down at me.
“He’s fine, up and storming off. Typical.”
I breathe a sigh of relief and duck back behind a truck, pressing my back to it. I shouldn’t be here; I don’t know why I am. It’s dangerous, risky, and it only makes me want to rush to him. He’s not mine. He didn’t choose you. I hurry down through the trucks again, rounding a corner and finding myself confused. I look up, trying to remember where I was sitting. I turn and head back the other way, planning to retrace my steps. These grounds are huge and if I exit at the wrong place, I could be walking for hours before I find my car.
I step around behind another large truck when I hear an almighty crack. I jump backwards and stare towards the sound only to see Nate. Oh, God. He’s got his fist raised and he’s pounding it into the side of a giant, red truck. He’s covered in dirt and there’s blood trickling from a gash on his knuckles. I want to turn and run away, but I’m frozen to the dirt. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him, and being this close to him again has everything in me sparking to life.
As if he can feel me, he turns and looks my way. I gasp as I see his face. He looks tired and worn, his eyes dark and tired, his cheeks high because his eyes are sunken. His expression turns to one of pure shock for a second as he turns his body towards mine.
“Avery?” he croaks.
“I . . .” I begin. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to . . . I wanted to get out and I was lost. I didn’t mean for you to see me and . . . I . . .”
He walks towards me, his body big and powerful, his expression determined. When he reaches me, his hand lashes out and curls around my neck as his eyes scan my face.
“Tryin’ to forget you,” he rasps. “Tryin’ to make myself stop feeling. Can’t . . . Fuckin’ can’t.”
“I . . .” I whisper, staring up at him. “You scared me out there.”
“Fucked up my race,” he growls. “Fucked it up because my head is gone. I can’t think. Can’t fuckin’ feel. All I want is you—fuck, all I need is you.”
