Pitcher's Baby (11 page)

Chapter Twenty

Charlee

Lucas didn't text. I honestly expected him
to. I know, naive. I guess some part of me held out hope that what we had
shared really did mean something to him. I couldn't sleep all night, wondering
if he had gotten the messages. Did he read them? Did he know who they were
from? Shit, I should have signed them. God, why didn't I just call him? I
should call him now.

No. I'll wait.

Today, I give him the camel. Shit! I gotta
get ready. I jump from the bed and throw on the closest thing I can find to
actually being clean and then run the brush through my hair and apply light
makeup. I'm gonna be late.

Darting across the hall, I leave the camel
on his bed and then grab Everly and head out the door before I’m late. At least
I know he will put two and two together now when he finds the camel and the
letter pinned to it.

He never texts.

Not once.

I feel like the room swallows me whole. I
slouch down in my seat and do my best to ignore the pain in my chest, but I
can't. It’s leaking outward, filling every tiny crevice of my body. I want to
disappear. Just take me away, please.

Class finally ends after what seems like
at least twelve hours, even though I know it's only been two, and I slowly gather
my things. Everyone has already cleared out of the room by the time I finally
make my way to the exit. My head is down, and I’m not really paying attention where
I’m going. Thankfully, Ashlin is. She jabs me in the side, making me look up
moments before I plow straight into him. I glance back at her only to see her
mouth the words,
I’ve got Everly. Text me later,
and then she disappears,
leaving me alone in the hall with Lucas. The bitch.

“Have lunch with me?” he asks, looking at
the floor and shuffling back and forth on his feet. I can tell it took a lot
for him to ask me that, especially after the way I acted the first week.

“Yes.” He looks up sharply. I think he
really expected me to say no. I smile warmly and offer him my hand without
thinking. He takes it and leads me outside to his car. I wonder where we’re
going, but I don't ask. I let him drive me away from campus and try to contain
the elated feeling trying to burst through my skin.

We don't go far. I'm much more focused on
the way his hand feels pressed against mine than where he is taking me, and
then I catch sight of the cast iron gate and the giant words hanging overhead.
City
Cemetery.
I glance up at him then, wondering what the hell is going on.

“Trust me?” he asks.

 I nod my head, and I realize that
suddenly, I do. Against my better judgment, I do trust him.

Chapter
Twenty-One

Lucas

I grab a picnic basket and a blanket from
the backseat while Charlee stands next to the car nervously picking at her
nails. I said I wanted to have lunch, and I know she loves picnics, but I can
imagine what she is thinking. At a cemetery? She’s about to ask what on earth
we are doing here when I start walking . . . and talking.

“I was eighteen when I first met Kirsten.
It was June, and all the school kids had gone for home, so this place was
somewhat quiet.” I look over at Charlee, making sure she is okay with the
direction of this story. She nods her head for me to continue, even though I
know she’d probably rather never hear another thing about Kirsten as long as
she lives. I can tell she needs to hear this as much—if not more—as I need to
say it, so I continue.

“I was at the creek cooling off when I
first saw her. I had never seen someone so beautiful in my life. She was coming
up out of the water like a Victoria’s Secret model. I know, cliché, but
remember, I was just eighteen, and a virgin straight from Canada, and let me
tell you, up there, we do things way different than you guys do down here. So
to me, she was glorious. And to make matters worse, she actually paid attention
to me. We fell in love that summer, or so I thought. I started school the next
fall, and for almost three months, things were great. Maybe I was just blind.
Or stupid. I don’t know. One night, Kirsten stayed home while I went out to
some frat party on campus. I was about half-lit when I overheard a group of my
friends laughing and joking about how they had all had turns with her. My
temper got the best of me and I lost it.”

“When I confronted Kirsten later that
evening, I was a bloody mess. My left eye was swollen shut, and my knuckles
were so bruised, I could barely close my hands. She started crying and swearing
up and down it wasn't true, then she told me she was pregnant.”

“I did the only could I knew to do. I
offered to marry her. I had turned nineteen the week before. It wasn’t the
ideal situation, but I had faith that we could make it work. She agreed, and
two weeks later, we were married before the judge at city hall. Everything was
fine for a while. It wasn't great. Somewhere along the way, I had realized the
way I felt about her wasn't actually love, but a teenage boy’s idea of it. I
lusted after her and the way she made me feel, but I didn't love her any more
than she loved me. We grew distant. And then Cole was born.”

“He was perfect. Everything about him was
pure perfection. I never thought I could love anyone as much I loved that
little boy.”

We have stopped talking, and now I’m
laying out the blanket and she is sitting. I know she has to have so many
questions, and I want her to ask them. I want her to know the truth. The whole
truth. I wait until it’s obvious that she isn’t going to comment, and then I
keep on with my story, needing to purge it from my system altogether. While I
talk, I help unload the basket.

“I knew that I didn't love Kirsten, but
Cole was love. There is no other way to describe him. The moment Kirsten gave
birth, she decided she didn't have to pretend anymore. In a way, I’m surprised
she ever managed to hide who she really was, or maybe I’m just surprised that I
believed it for so long. She became what everyone said she was. A whore. I bet
a hundred dollars I couldn't find one guy she hadn't slept with in the entire
county. It should have hurt, but it didn't.”

“I filed for divorce. I thought it was the
best thing to do. She didn't care about me any more than I did her, and she
didn't care about Cole either. But when I served her with the papers, she went
ballistic. I didn't know what the hell overcame her. She left that day, taking
Cole with her. She said if I divorced her, I would never see him again. She
knew how much I loved him and that I would do anything for him.”

“I was on the phone with my lawyer,
telling him to cancel the filing, when the police knocked on my door. I can't
remember the days following right after that. My world collapsed in around me.
She had been drinking and speeding when her car collided with the front end of
a transfer truck. Cole died instantly on impact. They say he never felt
anything. One minute he was there, and the next . . . gone.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Charlee

Tears are falling silently down his
cheeks. I reach over and wipe them away, pulling him to me. My heart breaks for
his loss. The selfishness of this woman amazes me, but it doesn't surprise me
that people like her exist. After all, my own mother is cut from the same
cloth. I hold his head against my chest, and for the first time, I am the one
comforting someone else. My eye latches onto something directly across from him,
and now I understand why we are here.

Cole Black

April 19, 2011 - July 10, 2011

Beloved Son

Lucas pulls me down next to him, laying
his head next to mine. I lay my head in the crevice where his arm meets his
shoulder and lay my arm across him. I can't stop the tears from falling now. I
was such a bitch to him, never giving him the chance to explain himself. I
can't forgive myself.

“I'm so sorry. I had no idea.” Even I know
the words fall flat.

“I know. It’s ok. I kind of guessed what
had happened when hags one and two doubled their efforts, trying to get me to
go out with them. Those two are not the subtlest, but then your friend, Ashlin,
cornered me and let me know.”

“She did?” I ask, surprised.

“Yea. You didn't know?”

“No. I had no idea.”

“Well, don't be mad at her. If it wasn't
for her, you might not be here now, and I might not be kissing you.” I know
he's trying to lighten the mood, and nothing makes me happier than to get off
the sad subject of his son's death and the tragedy surrounding it, but then the
thought of him kissing me has my pulse beating in my ear, drowning out
everything else around me.

“You're not kissing me.” I laugh lightheartedly
and then gasp when he flips me on my back and captures my mouth with his. I
take it back. This is heaven.

My heart beats wildly, like the flapping
of hummingbird wings. Lucas’s soft, warm mouth slows, and the kiss brings me
down from the mountain’s edge. He pulls my lower lip into his mouth, suckling
gently on it before releasing it and trailing tiny, light kisses down the edge
of my jaw to my neck, where he delves deeper, making my pulse skyrocket.

My arms slink around his waist. One pulls
against the back of his neck, twisting his short hair in my fingers, while the
other trails along his ribcage and his taut stomach under his shirt. The lines
of his abdominal muscles ripple under my fingers as I drag them down his sides.

He kisses along my neck, causing chills to
break out on my arms. My breathing is heavy and shallow at the same time.
Nothing else exists right now but him and the way his mouth feels on mine, the
way his tongue darts in and out from between my lips, teasing mine.

I have no time to register the joy I feel from
having him close to me mingled with a heavy dose of desire. I gasp in utter
shock, my lips parting for his invasion. His mouth absorbs the cry of need,
taking my hands and holding them prisoner above my head. His tongue continues
to caress over my lips, occasionally darting between them.

I pull my hands free from his grasp and
push gently against his chest, trying to resist the lure of his body on mine. I
want to sink in the ground and pull him along with me. I want to keep him there
with me, kissing me nonstop, but my brain won't shut off. I try to deny what my
body wants. To abandon inhibition and shut out all other thoughts, but the
sharp stones beneath the blanket are piercing my skin, bringing me rushing back
to reality. We are in a cemetery on top of his son's grave. This isn't right.

Common sense wins the internal feud
between lust and logic, and I manage to push him back a fraction. His mouth
breaks from mine, our breaths panting over each other’s faces. His eyes are
wild with lust, reflecting the desire in my own. I find it hard to ignore the
raging emotions flowing through me in this moment. My chest is heaving, and
with each intake of air, my body inches closer to his. I unsuccessfully try to
remind myself why this is a bad idea, but I can't deny the how much I want to
ignore it. How much I want to feel right now.

He gives me a moment to gather myself, to
decide if I want to stop or not. My eyes drift to his lips, slightly parted and
still wet from my kiss. I want to feel his mouth on mine again. I nod my head a
fraction, giving him the permission he needs. He crushes his mouth to mine.
Demanding.

I instinctively move my hands over his
unshaven jaw to the back of his neck and tug my fingers in the hair that curls
at the base of his neck. A low moan comes from the back of his throat,
bolstering my confidence, allowing me to part my lips and take more of him. My
tongue entwines and dances intimately with his. A slow, seductive ballet
highlighted with breathy moans and panted whimpers.

He tastes of cheese and salami from our
lunch earlier. I want more. I want to soak in every part of him. To devour him
from within. His hand slides down the length of my body and back up. My back
arches as I wiggle underneath him, begging for his touch. He pulls back,
kissing along my jaw and down my neck to the top of my breast, where he lingers
for a moment before continue back up the other side. I lie beneath him, eyes
closed tight, feeling every moment. His rough beard tickles my skin in the most
alluring way imaginable. I'd give my first born to be able to feel it everywhere.

A raindrop falls from the heavens, hitting
me right below the eye, and then another on the tip of my nose. Lucas feels
them a second later and pulls back, staring deep into my soul. His breathing is
labored as he tries to control the desire running through him. I feel his pain.
I'm having a hard time getting my own heart to slow down to a near-normal rate.
More drops of water fall around us, warning us. Then the sky opens up, and
within seconds, I’m soaked through.

Lucas effortlessly jumps from on top of me,
and after adjusting his very visible erection, he reaches down and offers me
his hand. I accept it, loving the way his fingers fit perfectly with my own. We
work together, quickly packing everything up, and then we make a mad dash back
to his car.

I can’t believe how close I just came to
having sex in the cemetery. What the hell was I thinking? My heart is still
beating out of my chest, and I’ve barely gotten my breathing under control when
Lucas finishes putting the basket and blanket in the trunk. He's soaking wet
when he crawls in the front seat, and I can't help but burst out laughing.

“What?” he asks, looking at me.

His hair lays limp against his forehead
from the spontaneous downpour. His clothes are even more soaked than mine,
showcasing his amazing muscles beneath. My mind trips over itself, imagining
them pressed down on top of me again. I mentally shake my head and spit out the
first thought that comes to mind.

“You look like a drowned rat.” I slap my
hand over my mouth and internally berate myself for ever opening my mouth. I
can't believe I just said that to him, although now that the shock of my
statement has worn off, I see him grinning from ear to ear.

“Have you looked in the mirror?”

“What?” I say, slapping at his arm and
pulling the visor down. My hair is a little damp and falling flat against my
head, but other than that, I look fine.

“I look great!”

“I know. But it was worth it to see you
freak out.” His laughter fills the car, and all of a sudden, I'm finding it
hard to breathe again. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to relieve the need
I feel building there. He reaches out, closing the distance between us, and
gently touches his fingers against my arm. The hair along my arms raises. I
suck in a quick breath and dart my eyes away from his knowing gaze before he
moves away.

I can't think of a time in my life that I
have ever wanted someone or something as much as I want him right this second.
My body has betrayed me. His breathing is as labored as my own, telling me all
I need to know. If I gave the okay, there would be no stopping, but I can't do
that to him. Especially after everything he shared with me today. I am too
broken. He deserves someone who can be there for him, someone who will build
him up and stand by his side through the hard roads ahead, someone who can give
as much as they take. That is not me. I am like a leech. A parasite. I latch on
and suck everyone around me dry until they can barely live themselves. Then, in
a moment of clarity, they let me go. I don't blame them at all. I am poison,
and if they stayed, I’d just break them too.

The sound of the car starting shocks me
back out of my inward battle. Lucas's eyes light, shining bright against his
olive skin. I feel myself smile. He makes me feel like I can be better. He
makes me want to be more. For him, I think I can. Not because I want to be with
him, or because I think he could only care for me if I were normal, but because
he ignites something inside of me that forces me to see myself as more than
just a diagnosis. When he smiles at me and lights my heart on fire, I want to
be the person that he sees. I want to be worthy of his love. I want to be
strong enough to keep my monster away.

Battling this beast inside of myself every
day is exhausting. Every single day, I have to choose whether I want to fight
for a moment of peace and happiness or if I am just too tired to care.

Most days, I allow myself to be infected
by the lies I tell myself, too lost inside of my own shell to search for the
truth. Too worn down to have the desire to believe anything else, no matter
what others around me say. I know I have a pretty decent life. I know that
there is someone out there in the world who has it so much worse than I do, but
in that moment, I feel like my hell is the worst. I can't compare myself to
someone else and see the bright side of it.

I can't force myself to feel better by
choosing to have a different attitude, like so many self-help books tell me to
do. When my monster decides to rear her ugly head, I become the scared, lonely,
unloved little girl again. I crumble beneath the weight of guilt and sadness,
but Lucas makes me feel like I can stand up to my inner monster. He makes me
feel like I can conquer the world, and that scares the fucking shit out of me.

“Where are we headed?” he asks, pulling me
out of my thoughts.

“What?” I ask, caught off guard.

“Do you want me to take you back to school
to get your car, or do you want me to take you home?”

“Oh shit! I forgot about Ashlin.” I say,
looking at the clock on the dash. Thank God, I think when I see that it is just
2:50.

“I'm supposed to give her a ride home
today. Her mom had to use her car for something.” I try to explain my outburst,
but he just nods his head, unconcerned, and turns left onto the street that
will take us back to school. I squirm in my seat, trying to gather the nerve to
say what I need to say. Normally, it wouldn't be so hard, but I have so many
wild emotions flowing through me right now that it makes it hard to focus.

I realize I'm running out of time as we
pull into the studio parking lot.

“Thank you, Lucas. For everything today.”
I don't turn to him. I can't. Instead, I sit ramrod straight, facing forward,
with one hand on the door handle, ready to escape.

“Thank you, Charlee. It was one of the
best days of my life.” I wonder silently if he would still feel that way if I
hadn't spent thirty minutes mauling him to death.

He gently touches my chin, pulling my face
around to face him. I keep my eyes downcast, choosing to stare at my clasped
hands rather than look into his eyes. He waits silently, demanding my full
attention. I glance up.

“I mean it, Charlee. I can't tell you how
much it meant to me to have someone to talk to, to share all that with, and for
you to not judge me for my past.”

“Anytime,” I say lamely, not knowing what
else to say. I have a million thoughts running through my head, fighting for
the winning lead. My monster is raging, yelling things in my ear that I don't
want to hear, but I can't block her out—not completely—so I scream happier
thoughts back, refusing to let my own demons ruin this day.

He leans in to kiss me goodbye. I tense as
my monster shouts with glee, thinking she won this round.

He only wants your body.

He doesn't like you.

No one likes you.

But instead of pressing his lips against
mine, he leaves a trail of feather-light kisses along my cheek. My eyes shoot
open to his when he pulls back slightly.

“Baby fish kisses. Everly’s favorite,” he
says before leaving one more on the tip of my nose. My heart swells twice its
own size. I feel it stretching and growing inside my chest. My smile stretches
a mile wide as I climb from his car and walk to my own.

Fuck you, monster. Fuck you.

And for the first time ever, she is
completely silent. I think Lucas knocked the fight right out of her.