Entangled Summer (17 page)

Eventually, hours later, in the quiet aftermath of holding one another, I turned in his arms, propping myself on my side. “So, this was what I was running from? Seems pretty crazy now.” I leaned back, folding my hands behind my head. “You can consider my mind officially blown.”

“Glad you think so.” He kissed my forehead, each cheek, and finally my lips, before climbing out of bed. He slid on his boxers. “I need water before sleep, how about you?”

I nodded. “But I don’t think sleep will be happening anytime soon.” Not the way my toes were still tingling.

He was pensive for a moment. “You can sleep Nora. I’ll protect you and fight off anyone who tries to hurt you in your dreams.”

I laughed a little. “With what?”

“With whatever it takes.”

“That’s sweet, but what I mean is, sleeping isn’t really what’s on my mind right now.” I held his gaze waiting for my meaning to sink in.

“Well,” he gave me a dangerous grin, “you can watch TV for a while, and then I can proceed to blow your mind again.”

I watched his lean body leave the shadows next to the bed until he entered the circle of light cast by the hallway sconce. Part of me wanted to call him back and refuse to let him ever leave my side again.

I was still basking in the waves of bliss, as I reached across the bed, to the night table and pulled open the drawer. I fished around for the TV remote, and then peered inside when I didn’t find it. No remote, but there was something that caught my attention. A picture. A picture of my house. The same picture as the one I have on my bookshelf, the one Troy stared at for ages. I picked it up slowly. For a second my heartbeat stilled and I wondered why he’d taken it. But then I realized it wasn’t the same size as mine. This one was older, more handled, with creases and folds. But it was my house... the one I grew up in. Why would he have this saved in a drawer?

The door opened and soft amber light from the hallway flooded him, illuminating his features.

My mind was reeling. I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure what. Sliding back against the headboard, I watched the sliver of light grow smaller then disappear as he closed the door, leaving us both in the shadows.

By the time he reached the bed carrying two glasses of water, I was sitting upright, knees bent, the sheets drawn up under my chin.

He set one glass on the table next to me and leaned in for a quick kiss, but stopped midway. Questions lined his face as he sensed something was up. His dark gaze flicked from my face to the open drawer, then finally rested on the photograph gripped in my hand.

For an uncomfortable length of time, neither one of us spoke. Finally we both started at the same time.

“Why do you have this?”—“I can explain.”

I waited, matching his stare with my own, but no explanation came.

“Where did you get a photo of my house, and why is it in your bedroom?” I said it louder this time, as the sense of panic swelled. Something told me I was not going to like the answer.

His hands washed over his face. “Nora. Listen, I’ve wanted to tell you this, but...”

“But
what
? What this time? You lied to me about Celeste, are you going to lie about this too?”

He tried to touch my arm, but I pulled back raising my hands in front of me. “Just, tell me what the hell is going on.”

Troy perched on the edge of the bed next to me and I slid further away from him. The opposite of what I’d done just moments before.

It didn’t go unnoticed, and I saw the pain sweep through his eyes. “I told you about the dreams, but not why I had them. I was just a kid. There was this house, behind the park where I rode my bike. I stopped in front of it every day. No idea why, but I used to listen to the voices. They were always loud. Angry and screaming, full of rage and hatred. Like mine. Then one day there was a little girl’s voice, small, frightened, crying.”

Prickles chased down my arms as he spoke.

“I used to creep up to the window to look inside. The girl was younger than me, by a few years. Small, and fragile. She would curl up in a ball in the kitchen, her skinned knees drawn up under her chin, tears streaming down her face. It broke my heart in a million pieces. I used to imagine taking her away from this hateful place. Then, one day, I did.”

I sucked in a slow breath, as his words formed the missing pieces of a puzzle in my mind.

“There was a fight one Sunday afternoon, worse than most. But this time when I looked in the window I didn’t see the little girl. I saw the man and he had a knife. He slashed at the woman. She screamed. Then as she fell to the floor, she pulled open a drawer, and grabbed a gun. She said she had three bullets. One for Him. On for her. And one—for Nora.” He paused, choking on the memories he remembered so vividly, memories I’d all but forgotten.

My world froze.

“I was scared, but even more when I saw you in the distance, walking from the den toward the kitchen. I dropped my bike under the window and ran to the back door. I slipped in, grabbed your trembling hand, and slipped out before the first gunshot rang out.

Your mother must have heard the screen door slam, because she saw me—saw us—as we ran away from the house as fast as we could. We were almost too far away to hear the second shot.”

He stopped talking when he saw the tears streaming down my face, my knees drawn up under my chin.

“Nora, I’m so sorry. I know you don’t remember any of this, and I wanted it to stay that way. Grace warned me it was too soon to tell you. I wanted to protect you from it. Always. But, when your dreams started becoming like Celeste’s, I needed you to remember. The picture of the house was my only connection to you for years. I took you to my foster parents and they called the police. That was the last time I saw you until last year when you walked into my classroom. But I’ve been dreaming of you ever since.”

For a blinding moment, my mind went blank. It literally emptied of all thought and reality floated soundlessly away.

For a moment.

Then it all came crashing back into me full force. This wasn’t happening. Everything went numb. I think I might be having a panic attack. Sweaty palms. Rapid heartbeat. Inability to move.

I stared into his pained gaze, blinked once, and instantly fell apart. Memories flooded back, each one more gut-wrenching than the next, until I couldn’t take it and my mind shut down. I fell asleep, sobbing against his chest.

It was still dark when I woke up. Troy’s deep slumbered breaths filled the darkness. I had no idea what time it was. Or what day it was. All I knew was I had to get away. From him. From the memories. From this place. From the unbearable ache in my chest. Tear-stained and numb, I slipped out of his bed, and into my clothes, then like the time before, I stole away into the night, and ran home.

Kenzie thankfully was either still sleeping or at Steve’s cabin when I got in, which gave me time to shower and crawl back into my bed. How could I stay here? There was too much going on and I didn’t know how to deal with any of it. And
this
—being on the brink of an emotional breakdown—was exactly the sort of thing Grace would be all over. She’d amend the terms of my contract to include even more therapy sessions with her. I didn’t want to talk about any of this. I wanted to forget it. To lose myself in my imaginary world, where my imaginary boyfriend protected me. Only he wasn’t imaginary, and he wasn’t my protector. Troy was.

The knocking that came a sleepless hour later didn’t surprise me any more than seeing Troy on the front porch at dawn did. He was freshly showered, dressed in khaki shorts and a white shirt, but he still looked like hell. The dark skin under his eyes showed he’d had about as much sleep as I had, which was basically none.

“Can I come in?”

I nodded and stepped aside to let him in. He didn’t try to kiss me and for the first time I was glad. None of this was his fault, but I felt raw and angry. Like he betrayed me in some way, and I didn’t know how to get past that.

“I was worried when I woke up and you were gone.” Troy said, his gaze scanning me over.

What was he looking for, signs of pain and suffering, trauma, hurt? I had them all, but the scars were on the inside.

“I needed to get home.” I said.

I hated that our first time together ended the way it did. It tainted what was supposed to be an amazing memory.

“Nora I’m sorry. I should have told you. I just didn’t know how. And Grace—”

I bit my lip. “Grace knows.” I said as the anger resurfaced. “Of course she does.” Was there no part of my life she didn’t have her nose in?

Troy was quiet and it annoyed me.

“That’s it. That’s all you have to say to me?”

“What do you want me to say Nora? That I’m sorry last night happened. That I wish I’d never met you? Cause I’m not.”

I paced the floor in front of him, arms folded across my chest. I needed to keep moving to keep from hyperventilating. “Nah-ah,” I jabbed a finger in his direction, “you don’t get to twist this around again. You’re holding stuff back. Tell me the whole truth this time.”

He blew out a long breath. “I used to dream of this girl I couldn't save. I’d take her hand, but it would slip away from mine. I couldn't save her. Every night I lost you, over and over again. Can you blame me for not wanting to let you go this time?”

Never let me go Troy. Promise me you'll never let me go.
I wanted to say the words, they were on the tip of my tongue waiting to roll off, but they didn't. Instead I stuffed them down deeper where it was safe, where they couldn’t reach me.

Troy prowled a few steps. “I didn’t know you were the girl I’d rescued at first. I thought the familiarity was from the dreams. But then, when I found out, I wanted to tell you. But I didn’t know how. You’d never mentioned what happened with your parents that day. For all I knew I’d be reopening closed wounds, and for what? I couldn't hurt you like that. Not after everything you’d already been through.”

“Already been through. You mean still going through. I’d daydreamed my own anti-hero because of my past trauma. Maybe if I’d known it was you who’d saved me...” I stopped and bit down on my lip. I’d
what
? This wasn’t his fault. And I didn’t need saving.

“Damn it Nora, just talk to me. Stop shutting me out. How can I help you?”

“Help me?” I choked back my laughter. “
Help
me?” I shook my head violently. “Just tell me. Did you know back then?” I searched his face. “A year ago when I walked into your class. Did you know who I was?”

He didn’t blink. “Yes.”

I nodded, swallowing back my disappointment. “So, this wasn’t the first time you’ve pretended not to know me.”

“I didn’t
know
you Nora. You were someone I didn’t even think was real. A vision. Someone in my dreams. But it was something more than that. The memory of you was a distant one. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if it was real or just my imagination... but...”

“But what?” I shouted, a tear streamed down my face, and I swiped it away with my palm. The torment in his eyes almost crumbled my resolve, but I wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily.

“I saw the photograph of your house. And I knew. It was real. You were real,” he said. “And for whatever reason, our lives have been entangled for much longer than either of us realized.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, desperate to shut out the truth. But it came pouring in with more clarity and detail than I could bear. The gunshots. The confusion. The terror and sadness. And then his face, young and determined. Suddenly I was safe. They were flashes, more so than memories, but they were real.

I couldn’t keep the tears from my eyes, no matter how many times I blinked them away.

He brushed them from my cheeks, and I melted into his touch.

“It was you.” I nodded. “You pulled me out of the house.” I remembered it all with visceral clarity. My insides felt mangled like they’d been crushed in a vice. “And the turquoise bike… it was yours, wasn’t it,” I nodded. “When I moved in with my grandparents, they brought it back from the house along with my other things. They assumed it was mine, but when I insisted it belonged to the boy under the window, they figured you were make-believe.” I searched his face with wide eyes. “I knew it belonged to someone else, I never dreamed it belonged to you.”

Troy stayed close to me, but didn’t try to touch me. I was thankful for that.

“When I first dreamed of Darcy, he was this gallant knight, who’d come to save me. All tall dark and handsome, come to whisk me away from all of the pain, and the suffering. And he did, for a while. Then, he became my pain and suffering manifested. You saved me then, like you’re trying to save me now.” I murmured.

He nodded once, keeping his eyes trained on mine. “Nora, this connection we have—”

“Please stop talking about our connection.” I snapped. Even through the dim lighting I could see the confusion contorting his face.

“How connected could we possibly be when you’ve been lying to me since day one?”

It was irrational and unreasonable and unfair to attack him. Still, I couldn’t stop the torrent of hurtful words from pouring from my mouth. “You’re a coward and a liar and I don’t know how I could have trusted you.” I yelled.

Hot angry tears welled up, and more sobs washed away the rest of my hurtful words.

Then he was holding me, so tight I couldn’t breathe. Stroking my hair and promising me everything was going to be alright, just like he had back then. Just like he had in my dream. It was all coming true. Every moment of it. I wanted to push him away, to lash out and scream and pummel his chest, to cause him a fraction of the pain that was squeezing my chest right now. But all I could do was lean in and let him soothe away my nightmares with his gentle words and safe embrace.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Don’t worry babe. Please, don’t cry.” He kept repeating it.

Eventually, I wasn’t anymore. The unbearable weight restricting my airways began to lift.

When my body stopped shaking, he eased back. “Better?” He held me at arm’s length to examine my tear-streaked face.

I gave a nod, and wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “I think so.” I wasn’t used to so much emotion. “I’m sorry.”

His expression was agonized. “Please don’t apologize. I’m the one who should. I know what you've lost Nora, but I've lost things too. I lost you. And now that I finally have you back… every second of every day I fear losing you all over again.”

He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. “Do you want to keep talking?” he asked.

I slowly shook my head. “No.—I just want to forget.”

The banging on the door caught us both by surprise.

It wasn’t until it blew open, slamming back against the wall so hard it cracked the plaster, that the calm I was beginning to let in was stripped away.