Chapter Two

Two

Lucas

The blood in my veins comes to a standstill when I get a look at the guy sitting at Natalie’s grave. Someone I never thought I’d lay eyes on again. Shawn Brooks. The first guy I ever fell in love with. He’d blown into my life like a windstorm and then left just the same.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand, stopping a few feet away from him. My anger wants to carry me closer, grab him by the collar and force him to tell me what the fuck he was thinking.

“I’m sorry.” Shawn stands quickly. Despite the fact that he’s grown into a man and is no longer the gangly sixteen-year-old he used to be, the wariness in his eyes is still the same. I don’t miss the way he glances around the cemetery, checking for exits in case I decide to do something.

I take a breath because no matter how pissed at him I may be, I don’t want to hurt him. Not ever. Too many people did that already, and I won’t be one of them. “I asked what you’re doing here.”

“I’m working a job,” he mumbles. “I freelance.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your job. What are you doing here in the cemetery? At my sister’s grave?”

“I just wanted…” He trails off, and then his eyes turn dark and cold. Like they were when he first came to live with us. “I have just as much right to come here as anyone.”

“You left her,” I snap. “She wanted you around, and you just left. Too caught up in your own selfishness to even consider that she might need you.”

“I wasn’t caught up in anything.”

“Bullshit. You knew the doctor didn’t think she had a high chance of surviving, and you cut and ran before you had to see too much. Because that’s just what you do.”

“Go fuck yourself,” he snarls. “You don’t know anything about that night.”

“I know you left. You didn’t even have the decency to tell anyone goodbye. Didn’t even have the decency to tell me goodbye.” I hate myself as I say it because it’s too much. I’m upset he left Natalie, but the betrayal was that he left me. After everything we’d shared together, he left like it was nothing. And that’s what really stings.

“I had to,” Shawn says, his voice softening. “I didn’t want to, but it was for the best.”

I shake my head. “Maybe the best for you. But don’t try to act like it was the best for me or Natalie.”

His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t try to argue any further. I wish he would. Because the truth is, I know Shawn wouldn’t have left just because things were getting bad. He survived more than anyone I’ve ever known; Natalie getting sick really wouldn’t have scared him off.

I don’t know what else would’ve made him run though.

“I’ll go,” Shawn says. “I’m sorry.”

He starts to move past me, and I grab his arm. My grip isn’t tight, but he still flinches anyway.

“You’re going to just run off again?”

“What do you want me to do?” His voice is tired. Exhausted even. Where has he been all this time?

“I want you to at least tell me what happened. If you think it was for the best, you should tell me why you thought that. If you’re actually sorry, you’d do that.”

He swallows and looks away from me, staring at the parking lot, empty except for our cars. “No.”

“Shawn, I’m serious.”

“So am I. I don’t owe you anything. Now let go of me. I’m leaving.”

I release him because I’m not a total asshole, but I also turn and follow him out of the cemetery. He doesn’t look back once as he makes his way to his car, but he has to know I’m following him.

When he reaches the beat-up SUV, he jerks the driver’s side door open and gets in the car.

“You’re really doing this?” I ask. “How many times have you been here in all the years?”

“Tonight was the first,” he replies. “And the last. I’m out of town next week, so don’t worry.”

He closes his door and sticks the key in the ignition. But instead of roaring to life, the engine simply sputters repeatedly.

I stand at the side of his car and watch him through his window as he turns the key harder, like that’s going to help anything. I almost feel bad for him until I remember how Natalie cried when she learned he’d disappeared. Then I just get pissed all over again.

He finally stops trying to force the car to work and jerks the key from the ignition. Still in the car, he pulls his phone out, and I watch him stare at his lit-up screen, searching for a mechanic or towing company he can call for help.

But I already know he’s not going to find one. Not at this hour.

The door opens, and Shawn steps out of the car. Without a word, he opens the back door and grabs an expensive-looking camera case, then locks the car. He slides the strap of the case over his shoulder and turns for the gravel road that leads into the parking lot of the cemetery.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Walking. My hotel’s about ten miles from here.”

“Let me give you a ride.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I don’t want to be around him, but my heart just doesn’t want to listen to reason. Despite everything, I still want him. And that irritates the fuck out of me.

“I’m fine,” Shawn replies.

“Come on, just get in the car.”

Thunder rumbles overhead, and Shawn pauses to glance up at the dark sky. The lightning is too close. There’s no way he’ll reach his hotel before the clouds open and pour the rain out.

Still, he doesn’t make a move toward my car. Because if there’s anything that Shawn’s good at other than leaving is surviving. He doesn’t need me or anyone else taking care of him.

So I use the only thing I know he’ll respond to.

“You owe me, Shawn.”

He turns to scowl at me over his shoulder. When he first came to live with us, some guys at school were messing with him, and I made them stop. Later, I’d joked about how he owed me. He’d turned so serious instantly. Wanted to know what I expected in return. He was prepared to give me anything I wanted if it cleared the supposed debt.

It was the first time I got a glimpse at how bad life must’ve been for him before that.

“Fine,” he says, his voice clipped. “You can give me a ride to my hotel.”

I unlock my car and get inside as thunder rumbles again. When he gets in beside me, he puts his camera case carefully at his feet before tugging his seatbelt on.

Then he doesn’t say a word the entire drive to his hotel. It’s not a long ride, but we seem to hit every red light along the way.

When I finally steer the car into the lot of the hotel he pointed to, I’m relieved to see it’s not a bad place. For some reason, I was picturing one of those pay-by-the-hour things.

He takes a breath as he reaches down for the camera case. “Are you coming in?”

I lift my eyebrows, surprised and more than a little irritated at the question. “Are you serious?”

“What? You’re the one who said I owed you something. You drove me to the hotel. I thought that’s what you were aiming for.” Annoyance slips into his tone before he can hide it. I can’t tell if he’s doing this because it’s what he really expects or he’s just trying to get a rise out of me.

I don’t know much about his life before he came to live with us for those six months. I know he was beaten. He came to us with bruises and stitches, but I don’t know anything other than that. He wouldn’t talk about it.

“Well?” he presses when I don’t speak. “Are you coming in or what?”

“Yes.” I say the word before my brain can tell me it’s a bad idea. Because in spite of everything that happened, I’ve missed him. I’m not ready to say goodbye to him again yet.

His gaze is wary as he opens the door and steps out into the warm night.

I follow him quickly, only pausing long enough to lock my car.

He leads me inside the lobby of the hotel, and we take an elevator up to the third floor. Being this close to him in the car wasn’t that bad because I had to concentrate on driving. But here in the elevator, it’s all I can do not to reach out and touch him. Yeah, I’m still mad as all hell at him, but my hormones aren’t interested in getting on the same page as my head.

We step out into a brightly lit hallway, and Shawn wordlessly makes his way to a door near the end of the hall. He sticks the card into the door, waits for the chirp, and pushes it open. Then he backs up a step and waits for me to enter first. I’d almost forgotten he did that. He doesn’t enter a room with his back to anyone.

When he follows me into the room, he locks the deadbolt before setting his camera case gently on the brown desk by the window. Then he turns to face me. “So what do you want to do?”

“I want to talk. I want an explanation.”

His jaw clenches. “Well, I’m not talking. I have nothing to say.”

It’s so obviously a lie that I want to call him on it. But I’m afraid of making the situation any worse. I’m angry at him, but I don’t want to hurt him. “Then what do you want?”

The smallest smirk pulls his lips up at the corners. “How about you show me how much you’ve missed me?”