Chapter 43

forty-three

LOLA

It was Christmas Eve, and for the first time since I could remember, I was excited about the holidays.

We'd made enough money at that last raffle to pay for the roof—the contractor would start in January—and even buy a Dickory Barns Ham and a few presents.

I'd just stuck the tape to the wrapping paper when footsteps pounded down the steps and entered the living room. I glanced over my shoulder at Hendrix, who I'd told to stay upstairs while I wrapped his present. He was like a kid.

"You're lucky I just finished wrapping your present, or I'd have to dick punch you."

He put his hand over his dick. "You would never wound my sword of valor. It's Excalibur and you are my stone."

"I am your stone… wow."

"I mean it in a good way." He brushed his hand through my hair, massaging my scalp. "A hot, wet stone that I want to plunge in and out of for the rest of my life."

"Good." I put the wrapped box under the tree.

The second I pushed to my feet, his arms came around me from behind, his lips skimming over my neck. "Come on, I need to show you something."

"Now?" It was getting dark outside. And cold. "We're supposed to watch a movie with Monroe and Zepp when they get back."

"You know it's going to be Human Centipede . Do you really want to watch that again?"

"No way. Monroe will veto that shit."

"Gingers don't have a say. So, it's ass-to-mouth stitching, or me and you and the dark." He dragged me toward the front doorway, then pulled my jacket from the hook and thrust it at me. "It won't take long."

It was sex. Guaranteed. And I was always down for a quickie. I shoved my feet into my worn Converse and followed him out into the freezing cold. I was not taking off my clothes outside… "Where are we going?"

His fingers threaded through mine as he tugged me down the porch steps. "Don't ask questions."

"Hendrix. It's you. I'm forever asking myself why."

Heavy gray clouds hung low in the night sky as he led me to the road. "Well, maybe you shouldn't question my genius, Lola Cola."

Not likely.

We turned onto the next street, then headed toward Old Man's derelict house, our breath fogging in front of our faces.

Our shoes crunched over the frost-covered yard as we rounded the side of the collapsing structure—right to the spot in the woods where our treehouse used to be.

Actually, I blinked, where it now was, faintly lit from within among the blackened branches of the oak tree. "You rebuilt it," I choked, trying not to cry.

"And you made fun of me for saying sumicks…Yet, here you are, stating the damn obvious."

I elbowed him in the ribs, and he pulled me a little farther into the tree line.

He'd come out here, a grown-ass man, and rebuilt a kid's tree house for me. Without even asking. I'd never told him how much it had hurt me when he had burned the old one, but I imagined he knew, the same way he knew everything about me.

Maybe it was stupid, but I was attached to that shabby little treehouse and the dirty little boy who'd made it. I'd mourned the loss of all our messages, our history, although this one looked far sturdier than the old one, with straighter walls and wood that wasn't rotting.

The chilled air crept over the back of my neck as I watched him climb the rope ladder, then followed him up.

Inside, a pile of blankets sat in the middle of the floor. A string of battery-powered fairy lights graced the blank walls. Everything was fresh and clean and new. I crawled into the space, then turned on my butt to face him. "When did you do all this?"

"I'm expelled…Reprobates have all the time in the world." He half-laughed before sitting on the tattered blankets.

"I love it, Hendrix."

"I'm glad." He pulled a pocketknife from his jeans and turned away from me. "Although…" The scrape of the blade over the clean wood bounced around the small space, but I couldn't see what he was carving. "I hate we lost all those messages."

"I don't need messages to know you love me." Maybe I used to as a kid, but not now.

Wind howled around the outside, sending a sudden chill through the treehouse. "But they meant something to you," he said.

"Only because they were from you." They reminded me of the little boy I'd always loved, of how much we meant to each other when we meant nothing to anyone else.

Finished with whatever he had scratched in, he snapped the knife's blade back into place and pocketed it before turning to face me. "I love you. And I need to know that no matter what happens in life, you're going to love me back."

There was a look of unease on his face, one that looked an awful lot like doubt. Did he doubt me?

"You know I will."

That unease let up a little, a hint of his normal cocky smile pulling at his lips. "For the rest of your life?"

"You're an impossible act to follow, Hendrix." I glanced around at the string of fairy lights, the candles. "So yes, for the rest of my life."

He scooted a little closer. "Even if I stay dirt-poor and can't buy you shit?"

"Good thing you're the best thief I know."

Then he shifted to the side. My gaze drifted to the words he'd carved on the wall— Marry me.

Not a question. A statement. A demand.

He dug into his pocket and held out a box with a bright-green ring situated in the middle of the black velvet. "This is the first thing I didn't steal for you," he said. "Because I traded my guitar for it over two years ago."

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. He'd kept it for two years… That may not seem like a big deal for most people, but Hendrix had been desperate. He could have pawned that ring, gone and gotten his guitar back, and yet, he hadn't… He'd held onto it the same way I'd held onto Sid. There was not a single doubt that I wanted to spend every minute of the rest of my life with that boy.

I wanted to scream "Yes," but I bit the inside of my cheek and stopped myself. I couldn't.

Tears welled in my eyes as I stared at that ring and realized how close we were to having everything. How damn close…I'd been willing to live a lie with him, to protect him, but now the only person I was protecting was me.

He loved me, which meant he deserved the truth, and I couldn't promise him forever based on lies. I took a breath and closed my eyes. "I have to tell you something," I whispered.

Silent seconds passed while I tried to find the words. While I tried to tamper my emotions and prepare myself for his anger, his possible rejection…

"I already know," he said.

I opened my eyes and took in the worried expression on his face… "Already know what?"

He moved closer, sweeping his hand into my hair. "I should have known you didn't cheat on me."

The sound of car doors shutting and kids giggling somewhere in the neighborhood drifted into the treehouse. Each beat of my heart felt jilted, uneven as fear set in. I fought it back. He couldn't know. How would he? But the broken look on his face…

"I'm so fucking sorry, Lola." Tears and hurt built in his blue eyes, and that was when I knew he knew .

That was when my own tears fell.

So many times, I'd wanted to tell him the truth, but now that I was faced with the reality, I was ashamed. Every horrible, self-loathing emotion rose to the surface until I felt sick. Until I wondered if he felt sick.

I pulled away and leaned back against the damp wall, tears silently streaming down my cheeks, and Hendrix cried with me, the open ring box still clasped in his hand.

"I can't take it if you leave me again, Lola." His words were hushed, pained.

"What?" I cried harder. "Why would I leave you ?"

His chin dropped to his chest, the fairy lights catching his dark hair as he shifted across the floorboards.

He looked broken… guilty… Why would he look guilty?

"Hendrix…"

The pieces came together in my mind, creating a reality I'd spent two years doing everything to avoid. He knew. Johan was dead. And Hendrix knew he'd raped me…

"I'll always protect you, Lola." His gaze met mine, and he looked at me like he loved me. Like he'd kill for me... "It wouldn't have mattered if I'd never seen you again. If it had been ten, twenty, thirty years from now, if you had been married to someone else, the second I found out, I would have made him pay."

And hadn't I always known that? "That's why I lied," I whispered.

"I know that now."

Then silence fell between us. The chirp of crickets sounded outside. Somewhere in the distance, the soft lull of old Christmas carols echoed through the cold night. And we were right there. In the treehouse, shrouded with our secrets.

But what did they change? Anything? Two years of lying hadn't changed a thing.

I looked at Hendrix, at the boy who had protected me all of my life. The boy I had broken—no, the boy Johan had broken right along with the girl he loved.

If I'd learned anything in the past two years, it was that a person couldn't change the past. In Dayton, there wasn't much any of us could do to change the future. If Hendrix had killed Johan, if he had gotten caught, would I really give up one more day with him?

No, I wouldn't. I didn't want to know if he'd done it. I didn't care beyond the possibility of him being taken from me.

"Fuck, Lola…" Hendrix used his sleeve to wipe the tears from his face, then he grabbed my cold hand in his. "There hasn't been a damn day since I met you that I haven't thought about you. Haven't needed you." His thumb swept over my knuckles. "Loving you is the only damn thing in life that I know will never change." He slipped the ring on my finger. "I'm not letting you leave. I'm not letting you say no."

I laughed through tears and glanced at the ring.

I couldn't remember a time when I hadn't pictured my entire life with Hendrix. When he didn't represent forever. That hadn't changed, and it never would, no matter what he did. Because he'd never do anything to hurt me. He'd always protect me and love me. And that was more than most people got to have.

His hand gripped my jaw, pulling my gaze to his. "No more lies."

I touched my forehead to his. "No more lies."

"So, are you going to marry me or what, Lola Cola?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Yes."

And then he kissed me as if he hadn't a thousand times before. As though he couldn't wait to kiss me a thousand times more.