Always In: The Shore Series Book 2 (14 page)

My
Presenting Complex Information
class is a bitch, interesting, but a bitch. This one is going to take lots of concentration. Craw just pulled up. A few minutes have passed by and he's still not in yet. I look out the window. He's pacing back and forth, smoking like a chimney, and talking to someone on the phone. I peer out of the blinds but I try not to let him see me. Every once in a while he looks up at the window and I can tell something is wrong. It's has to be Harlow.

Shit.

I run out and Craw says to whomever he's speaking with that he has to go, and ends the call. He looks up at me and brushes his demeanor off.

"Oh, hey, Cruz. How was your day?" He scurries into the house, throwing his keys onto the table and goes to the fridge for a beer. He gulps it down in two seconds flat.

I stand with my shoulder pressed against the doorframe of the kitchen, crossing my arms in front of me.

After a few moments, Craw looks up at me. "What?"

"You going to tell me what that little show was outside?"

He looks at me confused with an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"What show? I’m fine. Long first week of student teaching is all."

Unconvinced, I let out a huff and roll my eyes.

"Okay, you don't have to tell me but it better not have anything to do with Harlow. She better be okay. She better not be hurt and you're keeping it from me, ’cause I will hurt you, Craw."

He leans back against the counter, takes a deep breath in, and attempts to say something, but then turns away from me.

I keep my place but raise my voice a little higher this time, letting him know I mean business.

"Craw, I swear to Christ, you better not be holding out on me. I will fucking shove your nuts up your ass if there is something wrong with Harlow and you are keeping it from me."

Startled, he whips his head around. "How'd you know it was about Harlow?"

I point at him, "Ha. Got you. Now spill before I
spill
your blood."

He relaxes a bit, but not enough to try and change the level of my anxiety.

"She's fine. She's actually doing great," he answers me soberly.

"Then what is the problem?" He's not fucking answering me and it's pissing me off.

"I...I can't tell you. I don't want to tell you." He turns around again and is headed for the front door. I grab onto his shoulder in the process and squeeze hard.

"Craw, you know I have killed people in war, right?" I don't want to threaten him with that statement but he needs to know I mean business.

He nods.

"I am here because of your sister, because she's the woman I love more than I love myself. If you have information pertaining to her, I have to know. You have no other choice other than to tell me. I’m not giving you the choice, Craw."

He is still turned away from me, his body pointed toward the front door, ready to take off at any moment.

"Cruz, I think she's seeing someone."

When you hear words like that, the crushing, heart-stomping words like that, you want to vomit. I mean I seriously want to throw up right here, right now. I swallow hard and try to process the information. I shake my head, rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands, hard, like I need to dig what I just heard out of my brain.

"I...I don't understand what you're telling me."

Craws turns to me, his head hung low, but he looks at me with an unwanted somber expression.

"I wasn't sure so I didn't say anything. It’s not like I wanted to but in the kind fashion of you, you leave me no choice."

I keep my composure, dizzy with confusion, and I don't feel bad not giving him a choice to tell me or not.

"When I started student teaching this week, Harlow showed me the ropes of the school and introduced me to a lot of people. One person in particular."

I sniff and try not to let the bile rise up in my throat, being so afraid of the next words he's going to say.

"Go on," I whisper.

"He's a new teacher. Last week she went out with him in town. She told me it wasn't a date, but you don't go out for ice cream looking the way she did that night."

Now it all makes sense.

"I saw her that night. Pink sun dress on, hair done up, looking..." I take a deep breath in and let the memory of her stunning beauty sink in. "Looking absolutely perfect."

Craw nods his head. "Yeah, that night."

My questions need to continue because if Craw got this all wrong I can breathe, but not until I know everything. Every fucking detail.

"How do you know all this for sure? Do you have proof? Did she tell you this herself?"

He takes a seat on the couch, his head between his knees and running his hand through his hair, clearly looking like he's in turmoil.

"Cruz, I’ve been with them all week. I see the looks between them, the flirting, and my sister does not flirt. I don't know what's going on with her. It's almost like she's becoming a different person. Something's up with her. And of course, I couldn't ask her in school so I trapped her by her car the other day. I waited till no one was around and I just came out and asked what her relationship was with him."

I have to sit down. I take a seat across from him and I can tell he doesn't want to go on, but he needs to. He looks up at me and my eyes will him to continue.

"She said they are getting to know each other. She's not looking for a relationship ’cause she needs to concentrate on her recovery, but she says she likes him and they are going out on a date. She says she'll see where it goes."

And that's all it takes for me to run to the bathroom, toss the lid to the toilet up, and gag up my lunch.

Someone else is going to touch her.

Someone else is going to look at her beautiful face.

Someone else is going to get to know her.

That's not going to work. No fucking way. It's not going to happen. I can't.... I can't let it happen. No! No! No!

She is mine. I’m here doing what I’m doing because of her, because I love her with every vessel in my body. With my whole fucking soul. I’m not going to stand back and let someone else fall in love with her when I know she belongs with me. I’m not allowing it. Fuck this. It's not happening.

Craw comes in as I dry heave into the bowl.

"Cruz, man. I don't know what to say. I didn't want to tell you. I really didn't and outside I was on the phone with Willow. She agreed we shouldn't tell you. We wanted to see where this was going to go."

I swipe at my mouth and lean my tired body against the tub that sits next to the toilet.

"Yeah, well it's not going to go anywhere. I’m not allowing it. She can't do this. She just can't. I rearranged my whole fucking life for her. I'd do it a thousand times over for her, but this is not happening."

Then he gives it to me. Hard truth. Tough love. Straight to the fucking heart.

"You don't get to make the choice for her, Cruz. She doesn't fucking remember being in love with you and all these plans you have to help her remember may work or may not, but you have no say in whether she should move on with her life. It's her fucking life. She had no control over what the fuck happened to her, and she sure as hell has no control over who she wants to be with."

I look up at him pissed at the world and at him for slapping me with this reality.

He calms his voice a little.

"Cruz, you think I want to see my sister with anyone else but you? I know that sounds very pussy-like but the answer is no. I saw what you guys had together. I’ve never seen Harlow so happy in her entire life except when she was with you. You brought her back to me, back to her friends, back to our family. You loving her did that. But, Christ, man, things change, and her memory, no matter how hard you try, you can't change that."

He's right. I can plan, and scheme, and read all the medical articles I can on her type of amnesia, but I can't force this. So now I question whether it was all a mistake. Me being here. Going to college here, getting a job, changing my life, trying to change her. At least change her memory.

Why do I get the feeling that she's going to slip through my fingers? I’m thinking I created a false reality. Something I conjured up in my head because I didn't want to lose her, again. I thought I could do it, change her mind, but the true reality is, she has no control over her mind. What her brain wants her to remember, it will. No plan of mine is going to change that.

This stings so bad. This pain I’m feeling in my chest. I guess I’m not the fighter I thought I was.

Craw grasps my shoulder and pats it as I sit on the cold bathroom floor, sweating and facing what the ultimate reality may turn out to be.

"Cruz, I’m not saying anything may come out of this thing with this guy. I’m just saying that Harlow needs to make her own decisions, do what she needs to do to get through all the pain she's been through. This could be just a phase she's going through and it could just be an attraction that could very well fizzle."

I look at him like he needs to get real. She wouldn't be going out on a damn date with him if she weren’t attracted to him. That I can face, but someone else being with her, looking at her blue eyes, running his hands through her beautiful hair, touching her soft, satin-like skin. Fuck that. That is something I can never accept.

Craw looks like he wants to take that last statement back.

"That came out wrong. I mean maybe it's just for male companionship or friendship. Aw, shit. Every word I say is coming out wrong. I’m sorry. I just don't have the answers. I wish I did, but what I can say is that you have made all the ultimate sacrifices for Harlow. I can't recall ever seeing anything like it. You go from fucking anything with a vagina, to falling in love with my sister and giving up so much for her. I don't know if I’ve ever met a person who made such a complete turn around and I guarantee if her brain wasn't fucked up like it is, she'd be a nut job not to be with you."

I give him a solemn smile. Craw’s words help, but still I feel hopeless.

Craw stands up and goes to the bathroom door. His words drift in my mind and spin in a cycle of confusion and grief.

He turns to me. "All of what I said doesn't mean you should give up though. Do you remember the day in the hospital when we were sitting there just staring at her and I said to you, ‘I don't know if she'll ever wake up’?" I nod thinking back to when it had been weeks since she was in the coma and Craw felt helpless and hopeless.

"You said she'll wake up. That she was a fighter and fighters don't quit. You told me to have faith and wait till she wakes up ’cause that would be the TKO. That opening her eyes meant she won. Well, that's what I’m telling you to do. Let it happen naturally, don't force it, but be her friend, be in her life, take the good with the bad, even though it may hurt. I mean, you're a fighter, Cruz. You're fucking Muhammad Ali without the Muslim background."

I chuckle. It's small but I do. I fist pump him and grasp his shoulder in recognition.

Yeah, he's right. I don't give up. It will be the fight of my life, but I won't go down without a fight.

CHAPTER 9

About A Boy

Harlow~

I sit here at this damn desk rubbing my temples. These headaches come and go, but when they come, holy crap, they come in full force. The school day isn't over yet and I’m exhausted. I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night with some pretty weird dreams. The other night in my dream, I was dancing in the middle of the street down in Sandy Cove. I could see red and blue flashing lights but I didn't know where they were coming from. I knew it was Sandy Cove ’cause I could see the weathered brown sign in front of me. I kept hearing a man speaking to me. All I could make out was “Miss Hannum”. I didn't know whose voice it was. I still don't know. Then last night's dream was about me sitting on our back dock at the house on Barnacle Lane. My legs were dangling in the water and they looked normal. No scars. My toes were painted red, which I never paint them, but they were. Then someone was running their hands through my hair. It felt good, normal even. Very familiar. I can't decipher dreams so I’ll have to ask Dr. Goldberg at my next session.

I close my eyes and keeping rubbing my head. My next class should be here in a few minutes. I know I left my headache meds in my lunch bag and I’m too damn tired today to go down and grab them. I'll struggle with it until lunch.

With my eyes still closed, I feel someone standing in front of me. I hear the fizzle sound of a soda can being opened. I look up and Daniel is here smiling at me. He holds out his closed hand. He motions to me to hold out mine. He opens his hand and puts my medication into the palm of my hand.

I look up at him confused but thinking about how wonderful it is all at the same time.

"How'd you? How did you?"

He pulls up a chair and sits in front of my desk.

"Simple really. I walked by your room while I was taking Jason Cross to the office for cussing and I saw you rubbing your head. When I walked back you were still rubbing it so I thought maybe you needed your medication."

He amazes me. I think I’m staring at him like a love-sick puppy dog, like a teenager with hormones the size of Texas. I break from the spell of his hypnotizing eyes.

And that damn accent. My poor underwear.

"Yeah, that Jason Cross has a worse mouth than Willow." I think about that one and Daniel cocks an eyebrow at me. "Well, almost," I say as he smiles and I return one back at him.

"Thank you for these, Daniel. But how did you know where they were?"

"That is something I think I may need to apologize for. I’ve noticed at lunch, since we often eat together, that you keep them in your lunch bag. When I saw that you looked like you were in pain, I stopped in the lunch room and grabbed them out for you. I’m sorry if that seemed a bit out of line. I mean, the invasion of privacy."

I smile at him as I take my meds and toss them back with my Coke.

"Oh, yes, my privacy. What did you see in there? A banana and my P,B & J with the crusts cut off?” I look at him with a dead serious expression, hoping he will pick up that I am just joking. “I feel as though you owe me a very large apology, Mr. Mathewson. A big one."