Stay With Me (30 page)

He glanced down at them and then back at my face. “What’s going on?”

I shook my head. “Don’t be nice,” I said.

“What?”

“We aren’t nice people, either one of us,” I said.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.

I shut my eyes tight, unable to look at him. I had to do it before—

“Last night—” Oh, God, help me. “I did something—” My voice shook. “Ian came over. He was there, actually, when you—” I couldn’t finish.

“He was there?” he said. “When I dropped you off?”

I nodded, pressing my lips together.

“And what, Savanna? You did what?”

The breath shoved out of my lungs. “We—started—I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He recoiled back a step. “No.”

“I stopped it,” I said, hot tears tracking down my cheeks. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do that to you—”

He scoffed. “To me?” He blew out a breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I was even part of the equation. You—we were—” His eyes narrowed to slits. “You needed it so badly you just—Jesus, Savanna,” he said, backing up two more steps. “What happened to
we have other nights
?”

“I know,” I said, croaking like I was a two-pack-a-day smoker. “I can’t justify it. He and I have a history, but I can’t—none of it is okay. I just couldn’t not tell you. I’m not proud of it, Dunc—” I stopped on the name as it clogged my throat. It wouldn’t form. “I’m sorry.” I dragged my eyes upward, forcing myself to look him in the eye. And the real hurt I saw there put me over the edge. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. Even knowing his deception, I was mortified at my own. “I’m so so sorry.”

He shook his head slowly as he looked at me. “Whatever,” he said, backing up into his doorway again, running a hand over his face. “Okay, you told me. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Your turn.”

His expression was blank, and bleak. “For what?”

“Confessions,” I said. My heart was hammering so hard I had a hard time catching my breath. “Who are you, Michael?”

Chapter Twenty

His whole body twitched as if he’d been slapped. His eyes narrowed warily, moving from anger to weariness in a matter of seconds.

“What did you do?” he breathed.

“Nothing,” I said. “Googled you. Wasn’t much on Duncan Spoon, but then Ian told me to look up Michael Long.”

“Shit,” he said under his breath, turning to face the doorjamb and lean his forearm against it. “Ian. Why the hell not.”

I wiped my tears away and put my hands on my hips, attempting something I came nowhere close to feeling. “That’s all you have to say about it?”

He cut a glance my way. “You really think you have room to railroad me right now?”

My tiny bit of self-righteousness waned but I crossed my arms over my chest. “Yeah, I kinda do,” I said. “You do, too. But I want to hear this first.”

He closed his eyes and his whole face tensed.

“Michael,” I said, the sound foreign on my tongue.

“That’s not my name anymore,” he said, hissing the words through his teeth.

Acid sat in my belly. The sweet and sexy man I thought I knew was someone else entirely.

“And yet it was,” I said, covering my face with one hand. “So it is true.”

“You’re the one stalking me on the Internet, why would you doubt it?” he said, his tone sour. It was a side of him I’d never seen, but then why would I? I’d known him at the vet’s office and on three whole dates.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that’s all it is.

I dropped my hand. “Part of me was hoping you’d explain it away. That there was some reasonable explanation.” I looked off in the distance and swiped under my eyes again. Fuck the crying. “But it is what it is. So just one question. Was any of it real?”

His eyes grew wide and accusing. “Was it—
real?
Are you serious? Was it real for you last night when you made out with another guy? Yes, it was fucking real.”

“Then why?”

“Why what, Savanna?” he said, facing me fully. “Why did I change my name and leave my family behind? Well, you’re Google Queen, you probably know why already. Why did I not disclose that on our first, second, or third dates?” he barked. “Same answer.”

His anger was palpable, but it was the frustration and the hurt coming off him that was throwing me into a tailspin. His answers weren’t defensive like I expected them to be. Or creative. They were blunt and pain-induced.

“Here’s a couple more whys for you while we’re at it,” he said, lowering his voice and stepping closer to me. “Why would you act like you wanted me, then let another man—
that
man, especially,” he amended, shoving the word through his teeth like it physically hurt to do so. “Take up where I left off?” His eyes searched mine. “And why the hell do I care this much, three dates in?”

New tears filled my eyes. He was right. Whatever was going on between us had moved fast. Something deep had taken root, and quickly, skipping casual. I was a horrible troll. I’d done—oh, my God, I’d essentially done what Ian had done to me. Not totally, but still. I’d inflicted that on another person.

“You have no obligation to me, not yet, so why do I feel like I’ve been fucking gut punched?” he said. His jaw muscles tensed. “You want real? I was falling for you. I’m a fucking moron.”

I’d never heard him talk that way either. That was my language coming at me. Hurling at me like knives.

“Then so am I,” I said, letting my anger trump my guilt. “For falling for a man I didn’t even know. For being a gullible idiot. I’m sorry for what I did, but you lied to me, Dunc—” My tongue tripped up again. “Shit, I don’t even know what to call you!”

“My name is Duncan Spoon,” he said loudly. “Legally. Binding. I have papers if you need to see them. I changed it two years ago. Call me by that name or nothing at all.”

My breathing quickened, my blood getting a little heated by his yelling at me. I was in the wrong, yes, but so was he. “Okay,
Duncan Spoon,
take it down a notch,” I said, wiping away the tears still on my cheeks. “I came clean. I apologized for what I did.”

“And you think that’s enough,” he said.

My breath left me in a rush. “No. I know you can’t forgive me, I understand that. But I couldn’t lie to you. I didn’t have to tell you, because you’re right, we don’t owe each other anything yet, but I—” I pressed my lips together. “There’s something there. Or there was.”

I turned away at the visible flinch in his expression and scooped my hair back. “There was, and I’ve probably ruined it, but I couldn’t keep that kind of secret.” I turned my head to meet his gaze again. “I was horrible, I deserve everything you want to throw at me, but you lied.” He averted his eyes as I continued. “For whatever reason, you lied to me. Not just by omission, Duncan. You sat there and looked me in the eye last night when I told you what was happening with Bobby Greene and my business and didn’t say a word.
I’ve heard of him?
Really?”

“What would you expect me to say?” he said, his voice tired. “Oh, that’s my uncle—my sorry-ass son of a bitch uncle with the dead eyes and no soul? Yeah, we’re family. He bought me my first gun.”

“Something!” I said, holding out my arms.

“I walked away from that, Savanna,” he said. “I don’t trot it back out for conversation sake.”

“And so you would’ve just let me go down that path and never tell me just to avoid a conversation?” I said. “Or did you know already?” Goose bumps covered my arms. “Shit, did you know the barn was targeted before we met? Or the butcher shop?”

“McMasters Meats has been part of it since the beginning of time,” Duncan said. “So has your
friend,
Ian, for that matter, so you might want to check your own backyard. And no, I didn’t keep up the last few years. I was too busy trying to become someone else.”

“Ian didn’t have a choice,” I said. “He’s trying to keep his family out of it.”

Duncan rubbed his eyes. “Whatever, Savanna. Whatever you need to tell yourself.” He turned back to the door, and my chest hurt like it had watching Ian walk out of my house.
Wait. This is wrong.
I was about to say his name when he stopped and turned back around. “Did you do it because you found out about me?”

God, I wished I could say yes. To have a reason, any reason. Even a fucked-up one.

“No,” I said.

Duncan’s face went more distant, if that was possible, and he held out his arms.

“You want to be with him, be with him,” he said. “But I’d watch my back if I were you.”

I laughed bitterly. “And how’s my back in your court, huh? Nephew to the man who’s trying to take me down. How would those Thanksgiving dinners go?”

On the upside he came back out onto the porch and stood just inches from me. On the downside—same thing. I swallowed hard as I stared up into those eyes that always turned me inside out. They were just sad now.

“My Thanksgiving dinners are alone, Savanna,” he said, his voice barely over a whisper. “I don’t have family anymore. I don’t have anything.” He paused. “Or anyone. It’s just me.”

I held my chin up, not wanting him to see me falter. “You never answered my question,” I said. “Were you ever planning to tell me?”

He blinked and looked away. “I don’t know.”

I nodded. “Well, I guess you can’t trust me and I can’t trust you,” I said, hearing the wobble in my voice. “Takes care of that.”

He turned his eyes back to me, and my chest felt like it sucked inward. He didn’t argue. I didn’t either. I backed up slowly and then turned, closing my eyes against the burn threatening to take over.

Just make it to the car, Savi.

I heard his front door shut behind me.

• • •

My computer was humming. I was up and down all morning, taking pictures of various items, uploading them, posting them on eBay, and going back to obsessively stalk the bidding process. I’d gotten two coffees. I needed it. It needed to be oozing out of my pores. I needed to be busy.

Missy came in and out and in again, and I told her about Jemma and Dad and Mrs. Sullivan’s daughter. It wasn’t often that I was the one with the gossip, so it was kind of a nice change.

“Your father has hit a mid-life crisis,” Missy said.

“Mid-life?” I said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d love for him to live to a hundred and thirty-six, but I don’t think that’s what we call it at this point.”

“Nah, you’re right, he’s just an ass,” she said.

I shrugged. You couldn’t argue with that. “He got caught liking Mrs. Sullivan too much,” I said. “Now he’s backpedaling with—oh, Lord, you have to see this woman.”

“I’d rather hear about more appealing hookups,” she said. “Like you and Doggie Doctor McDreamy.”

A fresh kick, like someone put on new boots—the steel-toed kind—slammed into my middle. It had been a long, long time since I’d felt this way. Like a gaping hole was sucking my insides out.

“Oh, Missy,” I said, burying my face in my hands.

“Uh-oh,” she said, leaning forward. “What happened?”

Where to begin? I sighed. “I messed up.”

“How?”

“Duncan’s real name is Michael Long, he’s Bobby Greene’s nephew, but he changed his name two years ago to get away. But he lied to me, and I called him on it, and Ian doesn’t trust him and I don’t know what to think, but I had to tell Duncan I had nearly had sex with Ian.”

“You did
what?”
she spurted.

“That’s the part that shocks you?”

“That’s the part I’m gonna whoop your ass for,” she said. “Do you not learn?”

“Can we move on?”

“You told Duncan?” she said. “Or—what was his name?”

“It’s Duncan now. And yes, I had to. I couldn’t go call him out on lying to me if I was lying too.”

“The hell you couldn’t,” she muttered, sighing dramatically and falling back onto the couch. “Damn girl, some things are better left under the rug.”

Duncan’s face, the hurt and the anger sculpting his features, kept floating through my mind. I could have kept it a secret but it would have eaten me alive. I stopped it. It didn’t happen. But that was just logistics.

“Do you want to know the scoop or do you want to judge?” I said. “I have no energy left to convince you, so if you’re up for it, I’ll tell you. If not”—I pointed at my screen—“I’ll keep stalking eBay.”

She studied me for a long moment and then gestured with her hands. “Give it to me.”

I gave it to her. Told her what happened back then with Ian, what he had to do, what I’d talked to Dad about, and what I’d found out from Duncan.

“Jesus,” she said.

“So,” I said. “Good times.”

“I noticed you left out the part about screwing Ian,” she said.

“I didn’t screw Ian,” I said. “But yes, I don’t want to talk about that.”