NEVER GOODBYE (An Albany Boys Novel) (4 page)

“Sorry,” I keep saying. I want to stop, but it keeps falling out of my mouth even though it means nothing and sounds small and ridiculous. I know all this, though right now, all I can do is utter an apology and hope he’ll step aside so I can get the hell out of here which I’m sure he would prefer.

“I suppose you like what you see here; big house, pool, property, money. All you girls see this and imagine some ludicrous dream with my boys, flash your young, pretty assets and they’re putty. Well, let me tell you something young lady ―”

I think I’m about to either faint or cry and I don’t cry. Not in public anyway. Though something about Vaun’s father scares me and creeps me the hell out. He continues, taking a step closer to me and I take another back even though I know I don’t have a lot of space behind me before I’m going to be against glass. “Those boys will have no power or money without my say so. So ―”

“That’s enough, Dad,” comes a voice off to the side and I jump. It’s Vaun and he looks less than happy and yet absolutely and insanely hot as he pulls a black tee down his ribcage covering that amazing tattoo.  I’m relieved I’m no longer alone with his father and will myself to calm the eff down.

2

No love lost

Harper

‘There's no love more intense than the love we have for our kids - and where there is intense love, there is also intense fear lurking beneath the surface.’

Arianna Huffington

His father laughs, though it is less than friendly. Menacing is clearly more his style. “You think I’m done. I’m not done, boy. When I’m done you’ll know about it. Actually, why don’t I give you a quick lesson, since you’re such a quick study and all.”

Holy hell. I want to shrivel up and disappear. The threatening demeanor toward me is now passed onto his son tenfold as he continues with his tirade.

“I’m cutting you off for a month. No funds, privileges. Nothing. Is that done enough for you?”

“Do you think I care about your money? I don’t want your money and never have,” Vaun growls. Every muscle in his body is tight and pulsing so close to mine while I’m glued to the spot, trying to seem invisible and stop shaking. I’m not normally a chicken shit, but Vaun’s dad is really scaring me. He would scare Bruce Willis if he were here in my place.

“I seem to remember when you asked me for money to buy your mom’s house? Funny how quickly the hand came out then, huh. Let’s not forget about your hussy girlfriends like this one here?” Once again he was looking at me, scanning my body and again I feel the filth he’s insinuating. I’m no stranger to dirty looks living in the city all my life and all, but this man can soak you in his disdain.

I feel this contempt right up until Vaun’s hand lies across my stomach, which I suck in automatically, and his shoulder brushes mine as he steps in front of me, nudging me behind him. My breathing stops, burning my lungs and I think my heart is about to stroke out.

“Harper has nothing to do with this. This is
our
bullshit and it’s been brewing since you abandoned my mother. If it were possible, I wouldn’t be here under your roof, but the state says that’s where I have to be for now. If you want me out, you should have given me the money to buy Mom’s mortgage out before some stranger bought it.”

I can’t see much past Vaun’s back, but what I do see is the clenched fist Vaun has and I can feel the tension emit from him. There is certainly no love lost here and a very heartbreaking story I care not to get involved in. I have enough heartbreak and I don’t think I have any room for more no matter how Vaun makes me feel.

“You are such a selfish shit. If you think a piece of ass like hers or your mothers isn’t in it for the money and what they can get from you, you’re dumber than I thought.”

“Don’t! Don’t talk about her like that. Either of them.”

Oh my God. I don’t know if it’s my rage at what a terrible father this guy is, disgust in his lack of respect for Vaun’s mother and Vaun’s feelings, or plain stupidity on my part that makes me do it, but I feel the tremor run through Vaun’s back and against me and I know I have to step in to save him from making a violent mistake. So I squeeze past Vaun and try to keep my voice steady as I plead with this man who I have quickly grown to dislike. “Mister  Campbell, it must have been bothersome to have teenagers you don’t know in your house and quite worrying to think people would be taking advantage of your sons, but I assure you, I’m not here to do that. Vaun is a friend and I think the two of you have some major history that needs to be sorted out, but you’re both quite heated right now and I don’t want to see you hurt each other with stupid words which can’t be taken back.”

Both Mister Campbell and Vaun are gawking at me as though I just grew a second head and I want to shrink back behind Vaun again. But I’m out now and I only have myself to blame for it.

Mister Campbell begins to chuckle. No, that’s not quite right, more like snicker. Yup, the guy is an ass and I can’t believe he is any relation to Vaun. And then my brain freezes right here because, really, how on earth do I really know that? I don’t. I don’t know Vaun from Santa Clause. As far as I know he could be as fake as the guy I used to get my photo taken with once a year until I was nine. For all I know Vaun could be just like his old man and I’m making a complete asshat out of myself.

“Well, I’ll tell you what Happy, Harley…what was your name again? No, it doesn’t matter what your name is because I will tell you something for nothing. That boy you are protecting is a worthless piece of shit that brings more worthless pieces of shit sluts into my house and although you seem different and have spunk, I don’t doubt you won’t be of interest for very long so I don’t need to know your name.”

Someone gasps. I can feel Vaun’s hand slip into mine and my feet are moving and then I realize it’s me who gasped because one of my hands is over my mouth and Vaunispractically dragging me from his father who is still snickering. I have no idea where I’m being taken and, right now, I don’t really care. All I want, all I need, is to get as far away from Mister Campbell as possible. The man is poisonous and the biggest asshole I’ve ever met in my life. Although, I’ve said I didn’t want it or need the extra heartbreak, it’s with me and it’s goddamn heavy. My soul is breaking for the son of a father who is loveless and callous with his words. I always thought my father’s near indifference to Benny and I was bad, that the barriers he put up were gutless and heartbreaking, but now I know better. What Vaun endures is so much worse than anything Dad could have done.

It’s not until I’m pulled into a room and the door is closed that I see Vaun. His hands are on my cheeks and his eyes are searching mine. What is he searching for? I must be staring at him so intensely he becomes a blur and I have to blink, but it doesn’t help. It’s not until his thumbs glide across my hot cheeks and I feel the cool dampness that I realize I’m crying. I’m actually crying in front of another human being and my body begins to shake so hard I suddenly find it hard to keep standing so I let my legs have their way and crumple to the floor.

Vaun has other ideas and all of a sudden I’m not descending but being lifted from the ground and for just a couple of seconds I’m against his hard, warm chest and listening to the fast beats of his heart before he is lowering me to the soft mattress of a bed.

I hadn’t even realized I was in a bedroom until that moment and although I should be a little freaked out by it, I’m not. When he pulls me against him so my cheek is against his shoulder, I don’t resist. I merely lean into him and disappear.

His fingers trace up and down my arm and my silent tears begin to fade away. I know I should be embarrassed and I should be worried that I could bare such raw sorrow to a stranger when I keep it closed from the ones who love me most, but Vaun doesn’t feel like a stranger. He feels like an old friend. One I had once lost and found again. A friend who understands my tears aren’t a moment of weakness but of love. Vaun and I share a kindred spirit of pain, in so many ways different, but heart altering all the same.

Vaun’s heart and breathing has settled under my ear, as has mine to a point and I push from his chest leaving a damp patch on his fresh tee even though I really just want to stay there.

              I’m not normally a crier, I’m not normally someone who will allow people to see me void of my mask. A lot of shit has hit my fan in the last few years and I’ve been able to hold the demolition of what I can’t hide, or help, at bay. So I don’t know why this has me in such a mess. I haven’t cried in front of another since I got the news I had Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. I didn’t cry when they gave me the shittiest odds of survival or when Dad said we would have to move and leave our lives behind to live in a tiny town to be near family I didn’t know. No. I held it in for the strength of everyone who had none left. So I don’t know why Vaun has this power over me, over my emotional barrier. What I know is he whispers to my soul and my soul needs him.

But I’m sick, not insane, and I can’t be staying in … I’m assuming this is Vaun’s room. “This is your room, right?” I ask quietly as I glance around at the décor. I recall the conversation between him and his father ― if you could possibly call it that ― I still can’t figure out how long he’s been here, but he has very little and I wonder if this is all he owns. There’s a couple of posters on the wall. One of a motorbike with bright, red writing that says Suzuki. It’s obviously a bike made for the dirt since it has mud splashed up the side like it’s a trophy. The other poster is of a truck. A big, black truck. He’s such a boy.

There’s a basket of clothes in the corner, a guitar beside the drawers and I want to ask him if he plays. I miss live music. My heart’s actually aching just thinking about the sound of raw tones from a musical instrument. But I don’t ask because he still hasn’t answered my last question. Why?

He’s looking at me, really looking, and I blush. Ugh, I hate blushing. More than I hate crying. Both are emotions that give too much away and blushing is one of those physical reactions you can’t hide.

“You know what? I think this is your room, not Luke’s, and I also think it’s a bad idea for us to be in here,” I say and turn to leave. But that boy is quick on his feet. Before my hand settles upon the silver doorknob, he has my wrist in his grasp and once again that deep heat in my cheeks flames up and I dip my head to try and hide.

“Don’t go yet,” he mutters. “I don’t think I can handle going back to the party yet and I don’t think you feel up to it either.” Then he grins, “Besides, you looked stoned,” he teases, making me gasp and him chuckle. “Stoned and beautiful,” he adds as he smoothes out my hair and winks. “Much better. Though, I think you might like to take a beat until your eyes clear or the school halls and our small town will be filled with rumors about your hidden drug addiction and our love affair by Monday morning. I’m thinking it’ll go something like this; poor city girl, exposed to the hard life and struggling with her drug addiction seduces country boy.”

              I laugh once and sniffle. “I’m not staying in your room with you the whole night. People will definitely believe the rumors then.”

              He chuckles again and I realize I really, really love his laugh, which seems to vibrate from him. “Okay, I think I have a neutral place where no one will find you. It’s a place I go to think.”

              I purse my lips and scrutinize his expression, looking for anything that says, ‘I’m a serial killer in disguise that wants inside your pants.’ Yet there’s nothing but protectiveness there, and maybe something like sadness that he keeps close. I don’t know what it is, but there’s a certain vulnerability to his tough exterior that
I
want to protect. So I smile and watch as he sees the answer before it leaves my lips and I nod. “Okay.”

              He beams and I feel that ridiculous flip again before it turns to a full fledge war against my resolve when he holds out his hand for me to take. I look at it and want dearly to take it, I really do. But I know that simple act opens up a full outbreak of other feelings and complications of which I have no time for in my life. I have a week before my treatment is scheduled and after that, I’m not going to be me anymore; I’ll be a sick shell of what I was. As it is, I’m only partially what I used to be.  I wonder if he would’ve liked the old me.

              “Come on, we’ll go out the front door. But first, we need to make a detour to the kitchen.”

              “We’re going outside?” I don’t understand.

              He turns to look at me with that big grin I bet turns all the girls to putty in his very capable hands. In another life I could allow myself to be one of those girls, but no today. “Changed your mind? You want to stay here now?”

              I chortle even though I don’t want to because it’s only going to encourage him and I’d say, Vaun Campbell needs no encouragement. “No, I was just wondering where we would go that keeps me from these alleged rumors you speak about.”

              “Do you trust me?” It isn’t only his lips asking, but his eyes. Those deep, chocolate brown eyes are searching through me, I can feel them. They want my trust more than anything, which makes me realize I can trust him with just about anything.

              “Yeah, I trust you,” I say, and he lets out a heavy sigh before smiling and once again holds his hand out for me. This time, despite the consequences, I take it and allow the warmth of the simple act to fill me.

After retrieving a blanket from the couch, a bottle of water and a bag of chips from the kitchen, Vaun pulls me out the front door. When we get to the corner of the house he squats down low, pulling me beside him so our bodies lean against each other and I can smell the chlorine from the pool mixed with his deodorant and the soap from his tee. My heart pounds like crazy and I don’t know if it’s from adrenaline or from our close proximity — either way, I’m smiling. I feel more alive in this second than … well for a long time.