Never Say Goodbye (Rebel Walking #6) (13 page)

"Yeah.  I usually take the stairs.  This piece of shit is on its last leg."  He steps out of the cage and stops at the first door on the right.  He opens the door to the smallest apartment in the world.  It's a one room apartment with a small bed and a metal chair as furniture.  One wall makes up the kitchen and there's a small dorm sized fridge.  I don't even know what to say as I look around.  'Nice apartment' isn't an option.

He moves to clear a folded pile of laundry from his bed in an attempt to tidy up the place.  There's nothing to tidy.  Talk about simplicity.  This man has nothing that isn't considered a necessity in his apartment.  My eyes stop at the two guitars in the corner.  They seem odd and out of place in this space. 

I notice a small door to my left and pray that there's at least a toilet behind that door.

"Is this your restroom?"

"Yeah.  It isn't much, but it serves the purpose." 

"It'll be fine.  Thanks."  I pull the door closed and take a minute to look at myself in the small mirror.  What am I doing?  What's happened to me?  It's like life is fighting me and my efforts to become the person I want to be.  My swollen face and tear drunk eyes are all I see in the reflection. 

How did I become this disgusting woman who can't stand up for herself and move on?  Greg seems to always have a way to get me to stay and I knew the baby was the most important reason for me to leave.  I'll never forgive myself for staying for the money. I should've left a few days ago when I found out I was pregnant.

Money means nothing when you lose every reason to fight.  I loved the idea of becoming a mother.  I was even willing to do it all by myself to shelter the baby from the life I've always known. 

My heart is breaking and I can't stop the tears from falling anymore.  I grip each side of the sink and begin to cry through the torture I've been holding in.  How could I let this happen?   

Chapter Three

Luke

The last thing I ever planned to do was bring someone back to this shithole apartment.  Living in California is expensive and I've been doing it all without using any of my money from Rebel Walking.  If I plan to stay under the radar, I need to keep it that way. 

I can hear her crying and I don't know how to handle it.  She's lost a baby and that tears me up inside.  I can't imagine the pain that would cause me if it were my own.  That asshole will pay for what he's done to her if it's the last thing I do before I leave.

I knock on the door and listen for her to say something.  Her sobs are all I hear and they're only getting louder.  Turning the knob slowly, I ease into the space behind her.  Her grip on my sink is tight and I can tell she's seriously about to have a panic attack by the way her gasping breaths are echoing through the small room.  She needs to be grounded and I'm hoping I can handle this.

I wrap my arms around her and watch her through the mirror.  I stand there until her sobbing becomes a cry and then hold her when she turns to bury her face into my chest.  Minutes go by and we remain just like this until she pulls away from my hold.

"I'm sorry.  I just can't believe this happened.  I wanted that baby more than anything I've wanted in my entire life."  She turns around and begins to run water over her face. 

"I'm sorry.  I wish I would've gotten there sooner."  She looks into the mirror and looks straight into my eyes.  Her expression of guilt screams through the mirror.

"You didn't do this.  He did this to you." 

"I'll forever blame myself for not acting fast enough.  That's something I'll have to deal with."  I know she's going to feel the weight of this for a very long time.  I struggle with something to say to help, but nothing comes to mind.  This seems to be an issue for me lately. 

"I'll give you the bed."  She has no idea how her words hit home for me.  I know how it is to feel the guilt from something you wish you could've changed.  Guilt can ruin you, consume you, and impair you from moving forward in life.  I should know.

Sitting in the metal chair I watch her slowly edge into the sheets.  She sits up against the pillows and watches me.

"I won’t be able to sleep with you staring at me, besides that, I'm not tired right now.  You should at least be comfortable too." 

"It's alright, I'll be fine."

"No, I insist.  Just sit with me and keep me company while I try to figure out a plan."

"What kind of plan are you talking about?"

"I need to go get my money tomorrow morning so I can leave just like I had planned.  I can't stay here.  Tonight proves that I need to get as far away from here as possible."

"Where is your money?"

"My father will have it."  I wonder how clean this money is that she's referring to.  After tonight, there's no way that I'm getting into bed with that asshole.  He wants me to fight in this next match up, but after seeing her like this, there's no way.  She doesn't even feel comfortable going home to her own father when a real tragedy happens.  That's all the information I need to prove he's a shady fucker of some sort.

"Greg's reaction is what I worry about.  He must know that I'm packed by now.  He won't like it and I'm scared to see how he'll react if he sees me." 

"I'll go with you.  That fucker won't touch you while I'm with you."

"I have to fight my own battles and I can't ask you to do more than you already have."  As if stepping away from her before she reaches safety is an option.  She has no idea who I am or how I roll.  In my eyes, there's no lower scum than a man who would hit a woman or a child. 

"It's not really an option at this point.  I've watched you fall apart tonight at the hands of a huge asshole.  If I have a chance to help you prevent another scene like last night, I will.  I'm pretty positive that me being there will keep him away from you all together, but if he decides to go for round two, then I'll be more than happy to beat his ass all over again."  Her eyes fill with tears again and I watch her attempt to turn away before they fall.  She rolls over to face the wall and it takes everything in me not to hold her like she needs to be held. 

I do slide onto the bed and put my arm around her hoping this is enough for her. 

"I'm sorry."  Her words barely a whisper. 

"No need to be sorry."

"Thank you, Luke."  The sounds of her cries continue for a few minutes before she rolls over and tucks herself into my side.  I lay back and she rests her head on my chest.  My eyes shift to the ceiling and I focus on it for what feels like an hour.

I don't move until I know she's asleep.  The back and forth emotions that I'm feeling are fucking my life up and I'm not sure how to deal with all of this.  I just met her and she's had the worst night of her life.  Here I am in the bed next to her and actually feeling my heart beat for the first time in months.  Knowing I'm keeping her safe as she sleeps makes me happy, but the guilt is getting to me as I hold her this closely.

I miss Lilly.  Memories of my last night with her begin to torture me, just like every other sleepless night since the accident.  How many times can I wish to change just one thing from that night?  If I could go back and just stop her in the parking lot, I'd tell her exactly how I feel and I'm sure it would have been no struggle to pass even more time up against that car.  Unfortunately, our paths crossed with a drunk driver and nothing will ever be the same again.  

Time was all I needed.  Time is what I no longer have.  Along with the memories comes the pressure in my chest and I have no choice but to get up out of this bed.  For the first time in months tears actually fall for her.  I stand by Lilly's guitar and let my head fall back against the wall.  The slide down the wall shifts my shirt up my back and I wish the scratch was deeper so my focus could shift, but my pain remains deep inside.

I sit against the wall and lose it.  All the numbness gone and the horrible pain taking over every feeling in my body. 

I feel her hand run through my hair just as I inhale a deep breath.  Her touch sends tingles across my scalp and I pause to just feel.  It's been so long since I've been touched. 

"Luke, who hurt you?"  I refuse to answer her.  There's only one answer.  I did this to myself. 

She lowers until she's sitting with me along the wall.  Her simple gesture of holding my hand goes so much further than anything else she could've done.  What's wrong with me?  This girl lost a baby tonight, and I'm falling the fuck apart. 

Neither of us say anything.  We sit in the dark and I feel the swipe of her thumb across my fingers the entire time.  It's oddly calming and that comforts me, but she doesn't need to be down here like this.

"You need to get off the floor and back in bed."

"I will when you do." 

I decide to make it easy on us both and rise from the floor, pulling her up by the hand once I do.  There's not many hours left to get some sleep, but a few hours will be better than nothing at this point. 

We lie side by side; she pulls my hand into hers and begins to rub her thumb across mine. 

Kimber

I wake to silence and an empty apartment.  It doesn't surprise me, but knowing he feels comfortable leaving me in his apartment is strange.  He's a little too trusting, not that I'd do anything, but many people would.  This is California.  If I ever see him again, I need to remind him of that.

I need to get out of here and get to my father before Greg decides to come looking for me.  The thought of what he'd do if he saw me in this apartment has me jumping up to get ready.  Trying to appear somewhat decent, I try to clean up.  After everything I've been through, this could be difficult.  My cramps remain dull and not near as bad as they were in the hospital last night.  I know I passed the baby last night at the hospital.  I sent Luke to the car when I felt it happening.  He didn't need to witness my complete breakdown.  

Looking in the mirror, you'd never know that my life was ruined last night.  My cheek is slightly swollen, which doesn't reflect how sore it truly is.  My eyes are a little puffy, but overall I look like I just had a rough night. 

I can't believe the baby is gone.  I had just come to terms with raising it on my own.  Greg has been getting really territorial and over bearing the last few weeks.  He has never hit me like this before, but he has pushed me a few times.  Things have been progressing and I knew it was time to leave.  I wanted to keep the baby safe and I wasn't sure how he'd react to me being pregnant in the first place. 

I slide the shower door open in hopes of finding soap of some sort.  Talk about basics.  I've never seen anything like Luke's apartment.  I almost feel sorry for his lack of belongings.  It's as if he's moved in here with a duffle bag and two guitars.

I guess I should appreciate it, since this is exactly where I was headed with a baby in tow.  To me, this meansl he's running from something.  After his breakdown last night, I can only assume it's a girl that has him running.  When a guy reacts like this, his heart is taken.  There's no doubt in my mind there's a very lucky lady out there that has that man's heart, I just hope she knows how to handle it with the care he seems to need right now.

The water pressure feels good and I take a longer shower than I should have.  The scent of his soap opens up my senses and for the first time since last night I feel like I can breathe.  It isn't long and the cold water begins to force me out of the shower and I grab the only towel from the cabinet. 

Getting dressed is challenging in this cramped space, but I manage.  Once I'm fully covered, I open the door to let some of the steam escape and notice him in the metal chair.

"Hey.  I didn't hear you come in."

"Yeah.  You were in the shower."

"You know you really shouldn't just leave a stranger in your apartment."

"I didn't."  His answer is matter of fact and quick.

"We just met yesterday."

"And we've been through more than some people go through in a lifetime."  I can't even argue with that. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I bought some eggs and a few things if you want something before you head out."  I notice the 'you' in that sentence and begin to plan my path out of this place.  I've inconvenienced him enough and it's time I let this guy have his space back.

"Nah.  I think I'll just get something later."

"You need to eat.  Don't you plan on driving most of the day?"

"Yes, after I get my money, I'm driving until I can't go any longer."

"Okay.  So you need to eat."

"I hate to have you do any more for me."

"I'm making my own, so it's nothing."  I watch him maneuver around the smallest kitchen in the world.  I had no idea they had cook tops with only two burners.  He seems so huge in such a tiny space.

"How long have you lived here?"  His back is still turned to me and I start to notice more tattoos this morning than I acknowledged last night.  I can tell his tank top is hiding one hell of a canvas, but I sit and take in all the ink that's visible.

"A few months."  I would've guess it had been weeks with the way his apartment looks.

"You like things basic, huh?"

"Yeah.  I guess more like simple.  It was time to uncomplicate my life."  My eyes move as he does. 
Did I just watch his tight ass when he bent over for something in a lower cupboard?
 

"I get that.  You have no idea how much I relate to that."  I battle the urge to ask him more information.  This guy is deep and there's no way he'd open up to someone he just met.  Besides, I'm not sure I can handle anyone else's struggles when I'm battling my own like this. 

He makes enough scrambled egg whites to feed about ten people.  I watch him scoop them onto two plates, obviously not an even portion on each.

"I hope you don't mind egg whites."

"Sounds perfect.  Luke, thanks again for everything.  Last night was hell.... and I have no idea how I would've made it to the hospital if you hadn't helped."  Tears well up and I swallow hard trying to fight them back.  I know everything will hit me soon, but I really need to try to keep it together until I'm away from him.  He doesn't deserve to have to deal with the ball of emotion that I am.

"Quit saying thank you."  He walks toward me with a plate in each hand.  He stops mid step only a few feet from me for a second before he continues and I look down, hoping he misses the moisture in my eyes.

Taking the plate from his hand, I watch him try to avoid looking directly at my face, which only verifies that he saw exactly what I was hoping to hide.  I sit in silence as he stands against the kitchen sink and begins to inhale his breakfast.