Deserve (24 page)

“Maggie, no! You’re still in danger,” he protests, his face
tight with worry.

“Leslie texted me just now. They have Calvin in custody.
I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know if he’s your attacker.” He stands stiffly,
hands curled into fists at his side.

My hero.
Always
trying to protect me. I smile sadly. It would be so much easier if I could hate
him. “It’s very likely him, but until I get a confirmation, I’ll make sure I
don’t walk alone.” I walk up to him and rise on my toes to kiss his jaw, letting
my lips linger a beat too long. I take in one more deep inhale of his scent. “Take
care, Sean. Thank you for everything.” Dangerously close to falling apart, I
start to turn away.

“Don’t leave me, angel.” He snatches my hand and squeezes
hard. “I need you.”

I steel myself against the torment in his voice. “I can’t
stay, Sean.” I close my eyes, a tear leaking from the corner of my eye. The
pressure around my heart intensifies until that organ shatters into microscopic
particles. I bite my lip to prevent my sob from escaping and swipe away the
salty drop with the tip of my fingers.

 
“I’m going to
get my things. If you can please stay in here until I’m gone…” Tugging my hand
out of his grasp, I leave without looking back.

I call a cab and throw my things into my suitcase. The ride
back to my dorm passes in a hazy blur. All my focus is on keeping the pain
contained until I reach my room.

As soon as I close my door, my defenses collapse. I stuff my
fist into my mouth and bite hard on my knuckles as tears pour down my face. The
sounds coming out of my mouth are so raw, I sound like a mortally wounded
animal. I curl into a tight ball on my bed and bawl into my pillow, letting my
grief overtake me.

I cry for that abandoned little girl looking for validation
and love. I hug her tightly to me, letting her know she is worthy of my love
and worthy of my tears.

I grieve for the optimistic woman who believed in Happily
Ever After. For my pulverized heart that will never heal.
For
the end of my dreams.

I whisper my mom’s words to give me strength.

“
You deserve
everything
.”

I tail her cab and watch her walk back into her dorm. And out
of my life.

I feel utterly numb on the inside. What I had dreaded since
the beginning had finally come to pass. I had finally lost her. I had kept my
damn secrets, but had lost her anyway.

Boom. Time was up, asshole.

I drive aimlessly around the city for hours, avoiding my
empty apartment, but am forced to return when I realize I’m so exhausted I
almost run a red light.

As soon as I walk into the bedroom, a waft of cinnamon hits
my nostrils and I retreat hastily, but no matter where I go in the apartment,
her essence haunts me.

Slowly the numbness wears away and rage creeps in, flooding
every cell. I let it overtake me, preferring mindless fury to the desperation waiting
at the edges of my mind. With a feral roar, I kick over the coffee table,
noting with satisfaction when the glass top shatters. The armchair crashes on
its side and I rip into the upholstery with my fingers. I strike out with my arms
and legs at everything within reach, celebrating each new sign of destruction. When
I’m done wrecking the living room, I move on to the kitchen. On the peripherals
of my mind, I note with surprise that my hands are bleeding, but the pain is
inconsequential.

When the film of red haze clears from my eyes, I’m standing
in the middle of my apartment, sweat dripping down my face, hands slick with
blood, surrounded by the evidence of my rampage: upended sofa, dining table
with two broken legs, shattered chairs, cabinet doors torn off their hinges, a
dented wall where I must have smashed something against it, and broken ceramic
and glass all over the kitchen floor.

But it’s nothing compared to the ravaged landscape inside
me. There’s nothing there but dark demons and grasping shadows.

The cuts on my hand start to sting and I stare in surprise
at the seeping slashes on my knuckles and palms. Carefully walking through the
vestiges of my furniture, I go into the bathroom, take out the first aid kit
and bandage my hands. But even this practical act reminds me of the first night
she stayed with me when she held her scraped hands trustingly out to me.

“My angel.” I hunch over the sink, not recognizing the
hollow-eyed man in the mirror.

I should find someone
who loves me more than anything in the world... I deserve to find someone who
loves me.

She’s right. She deserves someone who can love her.

I massage my chest, futilely trying to ease the clawing pain.

***

I step out of my building, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep,
and jolt to a stop at the sight of
Cael
leaning
against the entrance. Even shrouded in a thick overcoat, I easily recognize the
wide shoulders and muscular build of my best friend.

“
Cael
, what are you doing here?”
My mind feels too sluggish to make its normal connections.

He jerks his head up, green eyes flashing with wrath.
 
In a blur of movement, he grabs the
collar of my coat and slams me against the closest wall. The back of my head
hits the hard surface with a whap.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?” I yell in his face, the
impact driving the last wisps of fog from my brain.

His giant fist smashes into my jaw before I even finish my
sentence and my mouth fills with blood. Jesus. Fucking Mack truck.

I shove him away and wipe the trickle of blood from the
corner of my mouth. Using my tongue, I test to see if any teeth are loose. “What
the fuck!” I massage my jaw. I wouldn’t be surprised if the brute dislocated
it.

His chest is heaving and his fists are at the ready. A vein
throbs erratically at his temple. I’ve never seen
Cael
so enraged.

“Why the FUCK didn’t you tell me my sister was almost raped?”

I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall. “Oh
fuck!”

“Yeah. Oh fuck! You’re supposedly my fucking best friend and
you didn’t tell me my little sister was in danger? How could you fucking keep
that from me? I had to find out from a goddamn news alert,” he snarls, fury
underlining every word.

I wince. I should have known he would see the article published
yesterday about Hannah Michael’s miraculous recovery. The reporter had recounted
the attack and played up Maggie’s role in the rescue, hailing her as a heroine.

Lighting fast, he jabs his knuckles into my nose and blood
gushes out of my left nostril. He pulls his fist back to punch me again and I
don’t bother to defend myself. Arm suspended, he demands, “Why, Sean?”

I’m not going to use Maggie as a shield. All this shit is on
me. I look directly into his eyes and say, “I don’t have an excuse. I’m sorry.
I should have told you.”

“Damn straight you should have, you fucking asshole,”
Cael
roars, face dark with anger. He has a right to hate
me. Instead of protecting the most important person in his life, I betrayed
him.
By keeping secrets from him.
By breaking his
sister’s heart.

His gaze locks on
mine and the hurt
and distrust in his eyes pack a bigger wallop than his fist. He lowers his arm.
“We’re done, Rowan.”

Air whooshes out of my lungs as if he had punched me in the
solar plexus. He hasn’t called me by my last name since the first month in
college.

His voice is unyielding. “I don’t need someone I can’t trust
in my life.”

“
Cael
…”

He slashes his hand through the air, cutting me off. “No.
You knew how I felt about people keeping shit like this from me, but you did it
anyway.”

I clamp my mouth shut, having no ready defense. Being kept
in the dark about Lorna’s illness had hurt
Cael
on
the deepest level.

With one last hard glare at me, he turns around and walks
away, severing the most important connection of my adult life.

Second most important,
a little voice whispers.

I laugh bitterly. Neither Jackson sibling would have
anything to do with me now. Like every other aspect of my life, I have royally
fucked up everything.

“Maggie, you have a visitor.”

Against my will, my heart lurches in my chest.

“He says he’s your brother.”

Disappointment turns to alarm and confusion. “Thanks, Ed.
I’ll be right down.” A thousand questions circle around in my mind, and then I
recall the phone message from the reporter requesting an interview.

“Shit,” I mutter, realizing the story must have been
published already if my brother is in New York. The day of reckoning is upon
me. I rush downstairs and spot
Cael
immediately.

He paces impatiently, radiating frustrated rage and pain. As
soon as he sees me, he strides over and yanks me into his arms, saying
hoarsely, “Maggie. Thank God you’re okay. When I read that article about the
attack, I almost lost my mind. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m fine,
Cael
. I’m okay.” Comfort
and love encircle me as I hug him back. This is the person who has been there
for me through all of life’s tribulations. This is the brother who made sure I
was never bullied or harassed in our rough neighborhood. Who stepped in
whenever I needed him.

I witnessed firsthand how our mother’s secrets had hurt him.
Now I was the one causing him anguish.

A sense of calm and resolve settles over me. This
conversation is long overdue. Stepping away from his embrace, I say quietly, “Let’s
talk in my room.” Silently, I lead him
upstaiars
.

When he reaches to push my door open, I gasp at the sight of
his busted knuckles. “
Cael
, what happened to your
hand?”

He flexes his hand and sneers, “It met someone’s jaw.”

“Sean,” I breathe, making the easy connection and feeling an
immediate rush of concern. “Is he okay?” Examining
Cael
thoroughly, I note that other than his scraped knuckles, he appears to be
unscathed. Sean probably didn’t throw a single punch. The stupid, noble man likely
thought he deserved whatever punishment my brother dished out.

“He’s alive,”
Cael
grunts. “It’s
more than the asshole deserves for not telling me about the attack.”

I fight the impulse to call Sean to check on him. I know my
brother would never seriously injure his friend and I’m not ready to have any
contact with Sean. The ever-present ball of pain in my chest squeezes tightly.
Maybe I won’t ever be ready to face him again.

Steering my thoughts away from my heartache, I walk into my room,
gesture
Cael
to sit in my chair, and take out my
first aid kit. I start to clean his broken skin with an antiseptic wipe. After
I bandage his knuckles, I sit on my bed, my back against the wall and my legs
stretched over the edge. I clasp my hands in my lap and meet his gaze, wincing
at the hurt in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in danger,
Mags
? Why didn’t you come to me for help?” His gravelly
voice is filled with incomprehension. “You’d rather go to a stranger than come
to your brother?”

“
Cael
, your best friend is not a
stranger.”

He dismisses my comment with a wave. “That’s not the point.”

I take a few seconds to formulate my thoughts. The last
thing I want to do is to cause him more pain. “
Cael
,
I love you.”

“I love you too,
Mags
. Which is
why I don’t under—”

“
Sh
…let me explain without interruption.”

He nods curtly and falls silent.

I take a deep breath. “For my whole life, you’ve been there
for me and I couldn’t have a better brother. And a father in many ways.” I
choke up and have to wait until the lump disappears from my throat before I can
speak again.

“Along the way, you’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice for
me.” I flash him a warning look when he looks like he’s about to interject.
“You had to forgo so many things because of me. You took care of me when I was
sick. You babysat me when you could’ve been making out with Sydney Lawrence in
the back of the movie theater.”

A reluctant smile tugs at his lips.

“You compromised on your career because you wanted to take
of Mom and me. You have always been my hero.”

“They were never sacrifices,
Mags
.
I wanted to take care of you and Mom.”

My eyes moist, I nod. “I know. But I’m not a little girl any
more. I’m a grown woman who can take care of herself.”

“I know that,
Mags
.”

I touch my temple. “I think you know it in here.” My hand
moves to my chest. “But you don’t know it in here. Do you know why your
relationships don’t last longer than a few months? It’s because the women can
sense they’re not your first priority. You’ve put me ahead of everything,
including your own life.” I drop my hand back in my lap.

“That’s not true.”

“It
is
true,” I
say firmly. “You missed your girlfriend’s birthday dinner because I had a flat
tire. You didn’t attend her debut because I was sick.”

He stands up abruptly and walks around my tiny room, looking
like a caged lion. “I knew Rachel said something to you.”

“It doesn’t matter how I found out. No woman wants to feel
like she comes second in your life.”

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about the
attack.”

“Because I knew it was going to activate your overprotectiveness.
I didn’t want you to overreact and do something crazy like move to New York to become
my full-time bodyguard.”

The flash of guilt on his face substantiates my theory and I
wag my finger at him. “I knew it.”

He sighs and sits next to me. “I still don’t get it. I just
want to take care of you,” he says wearily.

“Oh
Cael
.” I nudge him with my
shoulder. “I know and I love you for it, but I need to stand on my own two feet.”

“You’re my sister. It’s my prerogative as your older brother
to protect you.”

“
Cael
, do you want me to be
happy?”

He stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “What kind of
stupid question is that? Of course I do.”

“Have you every thought about what I want for you?”

His shoulders droop as comprehension flickers across his
face and he sighs gustily.

“I want you to be happy, too,” I say quietly.

He slings his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me with
affection. “I get it, sweetheart, but I’m not happy when my sister is in
danger. I’ll try harder to throttle back my reaction, but this was different. I
could have lost you. You’re my only family. After Mom…” His voice clogging, he
tightens his grip.

At his strangled words, I hug him close and start to cry. “I
know. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret from you, but I didn’t want to cause
any more problems between you and Rachel.”

He tugs lightly on a curl. “Sweetheart, any woman who
doesn’t understand how much my baby sister means to me has no business being in
my life. I broke up with Rachel after Thanksgiving.”

Filled with dismay, I sit up with a gasp, swiping at my wet
cheeks hastily. “Oh no! I’m sorry.”

“Don’t feel bad. It was for the best.”

“Are you okay?” I ask, studying his face, looking for any
signs of heartbreak. To my immense relief, I find none.

“I’m fine. We were never right for each other.”
Cael
shifts his weight and slants me an uncertain look.
“How would you feel if I moved to New York?”

“It depends,” I say slowly. “Why are you moving here?”

“
Mags
, I know you don’t want me to
hover over you, but I can’t change who I am. Being seven hundred miles away
from you is hard for me. I worry about you. I keep hearing Mom’s voice telling
me to look after you. I know you value your independence and I promise to
respect that, but I want to see you more often than once or twice a year. Can
you understand that?”

My eyes mist over again. My brother is a born protector and
I never considered how hard this was for him. “But what about your life in
Chicago?
Your career?
Your friends?”

“My transfer to FDNY has been approved. And the distance
won’t change who my friends are. There’s nothing keeping me in Chicago. You’re
going to be here for at least a few years and I’d like to be close to my
sister.”

“Are you sure you can be happy living here in New York?”

“Maybe. Maybe not, but I’m not happy in Chicago right now.”

I consider him for a few seconds. “You promise you won’t cancel
another date for me again?”

“Unless it’s an emergency,” he tacks on quickly.

“And by emergency, you mean there would be lots of blood
involved,” I add.

“Agreed.”

“Then I’d love to have you in the city,” I say, smiling at
him.

“You promise not to hide anything like this from me again?”

I nod solemnly. “I promise,” I say, never wanting to see the
look of pained bewilderment on his face again.

“Good,” he says gruffly and raises his hand to rub his neck.

At the sight of the bandages, I say, “
Cael
,
don’t ruin your friendship with…” I swallow past the constriction in my throat.
“With Sean over this. It’s my fault. He wanted to tell you right after the
attack, but I begged him not to.
 
I
put him in an impossible position.”

My tongue almost gives me away by tripping over Sean’s name,
but luckily
Cael
is too deep in his thoughts. Since
Sean and I are no longer together, there is no point in telling my brother
about our failed relationship. It would only cause more harm to their
friendship.

He scowls and grumbles something unintelligible.

“
Cael
, promise me you’ll go see
Sean before you fly back to Chicago.”

“Fine!”

I roll my eyes at his truculent term. Men are such immature boys
sometimes. “How long do you plan to stay in New York?”

“I took a week off.” His thick brows furrow with concern. “Maggie,
are you safe from that psycho?”

No more lies, I remind myself. At least not when it comes to
this. “Leslie Ashby, the sergeant in charge of the case questioned the main
suspect, but he denied having anything to do with the attack. He doesn’t have
an alibi, but they can’t charge him with anything because there’s no evidence.”

“Fuck! I’ll cancel my flight back.”

Placing my hand on his arm, I say, “
Cael
,
I know you’re worried, but following me around all day won’t help. Besides,
I’ve already taken precautions. I don’t go anywhere alone and I always have my
pepper spray with me. The main target was my friend, Hannah, not me. It’s
unlikely he’ll be stupid enough to risk exposing himself by coming after me and
the police are working hard to solve the case.”

“And if they don’t?”

I lift my chin. “I refuse to let the asshole derail my life.
If they don’t find him, then I’ll carry on. I can’t live every day in fear that
he’ll strike again.”

“Maggie, maybe you can transfer to another school.”

“That suggestion doesn’t even warrant a response,” I say,
wiggling to the edge of the bed and hopping to my feet. I grab a tissue and
blot at my red eyes. “Come on. I’ll let you play bodyguard while you’re here if
it makes you feel better. And our first stop is the diner for breakfast because
I’m starving.”

Despite my breezy attitude, I do feel more secure with my
brother’s bulky frame next to me. I can’t shake the sensation that someone has
been watching me over the last month, but I haven’t been able to spot anyone
who looks suspicious. I tell myself it’s paranoia, but that itchiness under my
skin won’t go away.