Silver Heart (21 page)

He lifted his eyes so that they met mine, intensifying the pressure of his hot, wet mouth as he worshipped me from below. His look was indescribable—a mixture of adoration, passion, devotion, and desire. Tender, but sinful. Loving, yet lustful.

“Silver…” he breathed as I rocked my hips against him. “God, Silver. You taste so good.”

The combination of his touch, his gaze, and those words sent me tumbling over the edge. My skin was on fire; my blood boiled inside my veins and turned into molten lava as hot waves of excitement rocked me from inside out.

Both my heart and my body burst apart in the most erotically sensual way possible, shattering into a million different pieces. I didn’t mind breaking in front of him; I knew that he would be there to catch me and put me back together.

Dizzy and spent, I collapsed into him, steadying myself by placing my hands on his shoulders. He grasped my wrists and pulled me down to the floor, cradling me on his lap as he brought his mouth to mine. The kiss that followed was sweet and tender, a gentle culmination of the passion we just shared.

“You’re right,” I whispered against his mouth. “I do taste like lime popsicles.”

He swallowed my smile with another kiss. “I always knew you would,” he murmured softly.

“Always?” I narrowed my eyes teasingly. “You make it sound like you’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

A low chuckle rumbled deep within his chest. “Don’t underestimate the imagination of a teenage boy, Silver.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and dipped his lips to my neck.

“So you’re a good instructor and a great medic,” I mused out loud as his teeth grazed my jaw. “What else can you do?”

“So many things, baby,” he murmured against my skin. “But you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

“I guess I will.” My smile dissolved as I counted the days left in my vacation.

Four.

Only four.

We would be going back to reality on Friday.

That night, as I drifted off to sleep in Sawyer’s arms, a memory that had been buried in the dark crevices of my mind for a very long time suddenly began to seep out. It was the worst memory of my life—one that had Sawyer lying in my arms, staining my shirt with his tears. It clawed out of the shadows and choked away the warmth of my happiness.

We’re lying on my bed and I’m holding Sawyer’s head between my hands as he presses his face into my lap. His body shakes violently as he sobs. I’d never seen him cry and the vision breaks my heart.

I’m too numb to shed a single tear. Lyla’s death still hasn’t fully sunk in. How can someone so kind, so beautiful, and so innocent be forced to meet such a devastating end?

Her father. Right. An abusive drunkard. A poor excuse for a man who doesn’t deserve his family. So why is it that he’s still alive and Lyla is gone?

Sawyer’s practically gone too. I’m afraid he’s about to break apart right here in my hands. No matter how much his father had hurt him over the years, he’d never showed weakness. He pushed through every punch and swallowed the pain of every cut so that he could protect his sister from the monster’s wrath. He never cried. But now, now…I don’t know if he can get through this. I’m not sure if he can come back from this darkness.

“She was all alone when she locked herself in that bathroom,” he sobbed, fisting the fabric of my skirt between his fingers. “She was all alone with no one to hold her!”

Sawyer had been away at a tournament and their mother spent the weekend working at the supermarket. It wasn’t until the neighbours in the apartment below saw the water begin to leak through their ceiling that they found her.

Bloody, red water…

With a heart-shattering half moan, half groan, Sawyer grabs my shirt and pulls me into him. “They’re not even pressing any fucking charges, Silver!” He scowls. “Because she committed suicide. How about charging my fucking father for years of abuse that drove her to slit her wrists? How about that? Huh?!” Goosebumps cover my entire body as his painful cry resonates though my chest.

A simple “Shh…” is all I can manage. There are no words to help ease Sawyer’s pain.

“I’m going to fucking kill him. I’m going to rip his head off.”

“No, you’re not.” I brush strands of hair from his face. “You’re going to spend the night right here in my bed.”

“I need to get out of this place,” he moans.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere.” I wipe away the tear sliding down his cheek. “My parents will be away all weekend so we’ll stay here and I’ll take care of you. Adam won’t say anything. I’ll make sure of it.” I can’t let Sawyer go back to that apartment. I’m scared of what he will do.

“I’m not talking about leaving your room,” he says. “I’m talking about getting the hell out of this godforsaken place. This city. My house. My fucking life.” I’ve never seen his eyes looks like this. Instead of the clear bright green color, his irises are so dark they’re almost black.

“Shh…”I repeat, desperately wishing I had something better to say.

“I need to call up every sponsor that has ever expressed any interest in me.” He looks around the room manically. “Graduation is a few weeks away. After that, I’m getting as far away as they’ll send me. China. Europe. Canada. I don’t care. Just not here.”

The resolve in his voice tells me that he’s already gone. Previously, whenever we discussed what he was going to do after high school, Sawyer had talked about college and staying in Aspen to train so that he could be only a few hours from Denver. Despite my parents’ strict rules, we were determined to find a way to see each other and continue our friendship. But I now know that he’s going to run as far away from Colorado as humanly possible. And he’s going to leave me behind.

That day, my heart breaks in more ways than one. It shatters for Lyla. It explodes for Sawyer. And it ruptures for me because, once again, I’m unable to save the one person in the world I love more than life itself.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The piercing ring of my phone woke me at the crack of dawn. Slipping out of the bed, I quickly crossed over to the door, trying not to wake up Sawyer in the process. He was still sleeping soundly, his dark hair falling over his face in messy waves, his bare chest rising and falling with each breath he took.

I didn’t even have to check the caller ID before picking up. Only one person ever called this early. My mother. Any normal child would probably worry that something bad had happened to warrant a before-sunrise call, but this was a regular occurrence for Lydia Silver.

“What is it?” I grumbled, yawning sleepily.

“Is that any way to greet your mother?”

“When she calls before six in the morning, it is.”

“Were you up partying?” Her voice oozed judgment. I could practically hear it dripping off each word.

“No.” I was up doing something much better, but I wasn’t about to share that with her.

“Luanne Stonewall called last night.” My mother never told the whole story in one piece. She relished in having others drag it out of her.

“Oh?”

“She said that Preston had something very important to talk to her about.”

“Is that so?” A sense of pride washed over me. Hopefully, Preston had gathered enough courage to come out to his parents.

“I’m assuming he proposed to you this weekend.” She sounded impatient. “Why didn’t you call?”

“He didn’t propose.”

“No?” There was a long pause as she inhaled deeply, probably realizing that she’d spoken too soon and spoiled the surprise. She didn’t dwell on it for too long, because she quickly added, “Well then. I’m sure he will. And I expect that you’ll say yes.” It wasn’t a question.

“Uhh...” There was no way in hell that we could have this conversation right now. If I told her that Preston and I weren’t getting married, I’d probably be forced to come back to Denver and explain myself in person or risk having her come up here. Then she would insist I see a shrink to evaluate exactly which part of my brain wasn’t working properly. Because there
obviously
had to be something wrong with me to not want to marry someone like Preston Stonewall.

I put the phone on the counter, turned on the speaker, and busied myself with making a cup of coffee as my mother continued to talk.

“We’ll have to make an announcement right away,” she said. “You’ll want to get married before starting your program in the fall. Even though that will give us hardly enough time to find the perfect venue and plan the perfect party.” Once again, it wasn’t a question.

I nearly dropped my mug when she gasped and shouted, “Did you know that the Stonewalls are friends with Governor Richards and his wife?! How many people can say that a governor attended their wedding? You’re a very lucky girl, Dylan.”

“
So
lucky.” I slowly started to tune her out.

“I don’t like that sarcastic tone,” she chastised. “I know that this is overwhelming, but Luanne and I will take care of all the planning.”

If a wedding was really going to take place, I had no doubts that I would have absolutely no say in anything—down to my dress.

How could I be trusted to choose the perfect dress to impress the governor?

“Don’t worry about any of the details,” my mother said. “You and Preston will just have to show up.”

Don’t forget to bring the shotgun
, I wanted to say, but chose not to provoke her. The sooner she stopped talking about the wedding that was never going to happen, the faster I could go back to bed. And Sawyer.

“After all, you’ll be very busy all summer,” she said. “I spoke with Doctor Forrest and he’s agreed to take you on.”

“Take me on?”

“As a volunteer. At his practice,” she explained.

“He’s a podiatrist, mother.”

“The very best!”

“You know my area of interest is in
pediatrics
, right? Kids, not feet.”

“Yes, dear, but he’s one of the most respected doctors in the state. A reference from him will be worth its weight in gold on any resume.”

Sighing loudly, I massaged the tension that had suddenly built up in my shoulders. “I told you not to ask Doctor Forrest for any favors on my behalf.”

“Trust me, Dylan. This is what you need.”

“Is that so?” I snapped.

As always, she ignored me. “Is there any way you could end your little trip with Maddie sooner?” she asked. “Doctor Forrest wants to meet with you on Thursday and I told him you’d be available.”

“
Mother
.” Yet another case of her thinking it was acceptable to speak for me. “I just finished four years of school. This is my one week off before many more years school. One tiny week. Can’t you at least let me have that before sinking your claws into your next project concerning my life?”

“What’s gotten into you lately? I’m not a fan of this attitude.”

“It’s not an attitude.” I sank my head onto the cool surface of the counter, letting it soothe away the heat rising into my face. “You’d know an attitude if I really talked back to you.”

Why did I even bother trying to reason with her?

My mother choked on her gasp. She cleared her throat and whispered, “What did you just say?”

“I said that I have to go. Maddie needs me.” Maddie wasn’t even home—she was sleeping over at Connor’s.

“I’ll email you Doctor Forrest’s number. I want you to give him a call and try to arrange a meeting for Friday if you can’t go on Thursday. Right away.”

I wondered if Doctor Forrest would appreciate being called at the crack of dawn to be told that I had no interest in working for him. “I have to go, Mom.”

“Dylan Evelyn Sil—”

I hung up the phone and took a long, calming breath. Deep down inside, I felt slightly guilty for not embracing my mother’s offer. Any sane doctor wannabe would jump at the opportunity to work with someone as reputable as Doctor Forrest. Even if that meant looking at people’s feet all summer long.