Vivid Lies (14 page)

Kane helps me to my feet and surprises me by rubbing my sore hands. I'm sure that's not all that will be sore, but I won't complain. I like a little reminder of what we did. I pull up my shorts as Kane gets rid of the condom and pulls his shorts back up.
 

I grab my shirt from the lawn chair and look back at Kane. He's watching me carefully like he's looking for a clue of some sort. When he looks into my eyes, he smirks.
 

"Feel better?"

"Much," I admit. "I hate to fuck and run, but I do need to get to work."

Kane just nods as I put on my shirt and walk past him and back inside. He doesn't chase me down or try to talk. He doesn't look hurt by my coldness or even offended. It's perfect and I take the steps down to my apartment feeling lighter than I did on my climb up.
 

London

"Miles, you can go home now," I tell him after we clean up from dinner. "I'm fine. I promise."

After fainting the other night, Miles has barely left my side. He stops over a few times a day and has stayed the past few nights. I mostly have been sleeping, always feeling drained and exhausted.
 

"But—"

"No," I cut him off. "It was just the alcohol and dancing. I was dehydrated."

If he mentions going back to Tennessee to see my family doctor, I will force him out of this apartment. There are also doctors in Florida. It's just a ploy to get us to go back home. I won't do it.

"You still look pale," he argues.
 

"Miles," I start calmly. "I am fine. I just want to go to bed and get back to work tomorrow. I appreciate you taking care of me, but I'm okay."

Miles chews on his lip, debating on arguing more. I know he's worried about me and he knows I'm not telling him something.
 

"You sure?"

"Yes." My voice is firm and confident.
 

"Was it the song?" His words were rushed, like he would lose his nerve if he didn't get it all out.
 

I don't say anything. I didn't want to admit what his words did to me. We never talked about over the last few days, and I was hoping he thought I didn't remember.
 

It wasn't what he sang or the meaning. It was the visuals that were so much like my dreams. The entire song could be a soundtrack to the nightmares that have been plaguing me. The fire. Searching the flames for the person you love.
 

It's scary that I think we were both searching for Brooklyn.
 

"No," I finally say around the tightness in my throat. "I don't think it was meant for me."

Miles's eyes go wide but he doesn't confirm or deny what I say. I wonder if he even knows. Does he think it will hurt my feelings? I shared everything, my entire life with my twin sister. Including Miles. I'm not surprised if he is one more person who likes her more than me. That's her half. She's the likable one.
 

I cross the distance between us and hug Miles tight. He wraps me up in his arms like always. I feel safe here, wrapped in his familiar scent and safety.
 

"I love you," he says in my hair.
 

"I love you, too. I need you in my life."
 

"Always."

I can't worry about him and Brooklyn, but I know he isn't going anywhere, even as he grabs his stuff and leaves me in an empty apartment. He is my rock, and we both know he could never be anything more than that.

A huge weight has been lifted of my shoulders. I flop on the couch, finally enjoying the quiet and peace of being alone. The windows are open and the cool night air flows in. It was hard to get used to the humidity at first. I look forward to when the sun drops and the air cools down.
 

I strip down to my panties and a plain shirt Brooklyn had from a 5K she did a few years ago. It's rare that I'm home alone, so I grab some wine and popcorn and get ready for a date with Netflix. With the computer on my lap, I get settled in for a night of zoning out.
 

A glass of wine, a bag of popcorn, and two episodes later, I feel my muscles relaxing. I'm debating another glass of wine when the room goes dark. The only light is from the laptop screen but the show freezes when the neighbor's wireless we "borrow" goes down. I'm annoyed at first until I hear the rumble of thunder.
 

Rain drops are pounding on the windows and soaking the floor from the one open. I rush to close it but freeze when I look outside. Lightning bolts light the sky and the floor below my feet vibrate with the thunder. My hands are trembling as I try to pull down the window but it's old and stuck open. Another flash of lightening has me jumping away.
 

Fuck the window. My heart is pounding as hard as the rain. I usually know when a storm is coming and try to prepare. I rush for the bathroom but, in the dark, I can't find my sleeping pills. I slam the medicine cabinet shut and punch the mirror in an angry panic. I doubt they would help now anyway.
 

I stumble into the hall, panting and heart pounding like I had run a marathon. My hands are shaking and sweating. I can see the colorful spots as my vision fades and blackens. The panic and phobia are like a thick smoke, snaking in and wrapping around me. It's tugging me down to the darkness, no matter how hard I fight it.

I sink against the wall and slide to the floor. I can't see outside but I hear the rain pounding against the side of the building. The thunder rumbles, only seconds apart from another flash of light and roaring sound. I tuck my head between my knees and try to slow my breathing. Tears roll down my cheeks. I wish Brooklyn or Miles were here.
 

The blood is roaring in my ears so loudly, but it doesn't drown out the storm outside, or the storm in my head. I feel like a little girl again, huddled in the bathroom with my sister. We held on to each other tight while the wind and water tore our house apart. I cried for my daddy, but he never came for us. Every other night I wished he would never come back, except that night. My heart is breaking all over again as the past haunts me.
 

I feel like that little girl again. The same little girl who held her sister's hand in the dark and watched out the window for hours, waiting for her dad's headlights to hit the gravel drive. The rain was so hard, I thought the windows would break. We watched as the biggest tree in our yard was pushed over, coming dangerously close to the house.
 

Brooklyn never cried, while I did. I was so scared, and the one person who should make us feel safe and protected was nowhere to be found. We rode out the storm alone. Tornadoes damaged most of the county that night. It was the worst storm to come in years.
 

Every storm since then, I get the same terrified and helpless feeling. Nothing compares to being a frightened child wondering if her dad would ever come home. The only thing that scared me more than thinking he wouldn't ever come home was the moment of relief I had.
 

Cold hands touch my arms and I scream, trying to scramble away.
 

"London? You okay?"
 

I look up into a dark and blurry face. Relieved that I'm no longer alone, I reach for the shadow, needing a guard against the elements outside that are tearing me apart. I clench onto to wet clothes and a warm arm wraps around me.
 

"Hey. It's okay. I got you," he whispers in my ear as he pulls me to him.
 

My vision starts to clear as the irrational phobia loosens its grip. I look up into the dark but concerned eyes of Kane. He pulls me to his chest on the floor.
 

"Kane? How did you get in here?"

"I picked the lock when you didn't answer my knocking."

Another crack of lightening vibrates my body. Kane tightens his grip and I bury my face in his chest. His jacket is wet but I can feel the heat of his firm chest under my cheek. It grounds me, makes me feel safe. The hallway lights up and darkens like a strobe light is on.
 

"Bathtub," I tell Kane, tugging on his shirt. My hands shake but I'm trying to shove down the panic bubbling inside me.
 

Kane helps me to my feet and takes me to the bathroom just a few feet away, using a flashlight to see his way around. I crawl into the empty tub, fully aware I look downright insane. I very well could be but I'm not in the right mindset to think about that right now. He closes the door and joins me in the tub, no questions asked.
 

I pull the curtain closed as Kane settles in, facing me. He looks even larger crammed in this tiny tub. His long legs are cramped up as he puts his feet on either side of my hips. I pull my knees to my chest but we are still so close.
 

"Is this better?" he asks quietly.
 

"Slightly," I admit. I can feel and hear the thunder but I can't see the flashes of light. Surrounded by the tile and Kane, I feel protected.
 

"Why are you here?" I ask.
 

"I remember Brooklyn saying you didn't like storms. I wanted to check on you when the power went out."

"So you broke in?"

"You mad?"

"No." I am relieved to see him actually. "How do you know how to pick locks?"

"I'm a P.I. It comes in handy," he admit. "You want me to call Miles or Brooklyn?"

"No. I don't want to be a burden anymore. You can go if you want."

I swallow the lump in my throat. Without his body heat on mine and his large arms caging me in, I might freak out. I can't tell him that though.
 

"I don't want to go."

I give him a crooked smile as another crack of lightening comes. When I flinch, Kane grabs my legs and pulls me closer, between his legs. He wraps his arms around my shoulders. Our faces are only inches apart.

"This is so embarrassing," I mumble, looking down.

"Everyone is scared of something."

"What are you scared of?"

Kane takes his time thinking. I can't imagine him being scared of much. He always looks so confident and in charge.
 

"Clowns."

"Clowns?" I pause and look up at his face. I expected to see a smile or some hint of a joke. I only see honesty.
 

"Yeah. Clowns scare the shit out of me."

"But, they're just people. People who are supposed to make you laugh."

"They are creepy as fuck, London," he says, shaking my shoulders like he's trying to shake some sense into me. "With those creepy fake ass smiles painted on white faces. Don't even get me started on the hair."

I can't help it. I start laughing. Kane's lips are pursed as he watches me trying to stop the laughter that's bubbling out me.
 

"Not funny," he grumbles.
 

"I know," I say, composing myself. "It does make me feel a little better though. Keep distracting me."

Kane smiles and brushes some hair off my forehead. I stop laughing at the feel of his rough fingertips on my skin. I become aware of how close we are, intertwined together in my bathtub. I'm barely dressed and practically in his lap. His fingers slowly drift down the side of my face, tickling my jaw and wrap gently around my neck.
 

Kane notices it too. His eyes take in my bare legs that are wrapped around his. Our chests are almost touching and even in the little light from his flashlight on the floor, I can see my nipples through the thin shirt. More of my skin is touching him than not.
 

His hand moves down my bare shoulder, running a soft path down my arm. His touch is so light it's almost not even there. But I know it is. There is a path of heat following his fingers. He reaches my hand, running his fingers over my palm.
 

The blood rushing in my ears is drowning out the distant thunder. Our breathing is echoing in the small space and I'm not longer cold. There's a static buzz in the room, in this tub. I can feel it buzzing in my veins and in the air between us. We are curtained off from the world until a crash of lightening shatters the small bubble of calm. It rattles the walls and I feel it in the floor below me. The fear is irrational and I know this, but I still scream and cover my ears much like the little girl I was did so long ago.
 

"Hey. You're okay."

His voice is calm, cutting through my pounding heart and fading rumbles of the thunder. His arms wrap around me and I'm pulled into his chest.
 

"Shit. You're shaking, London."

My teeth are chattering and my whole body is practically convulsing. Kane rubs my back slowly while keeping me tight against him. Even terrified, I feel safe and protected. He doesn't let me go or make fun of me for breaking down like a child. He just whispers calming words into my hair and holds me.
 

My body starts to relax and soon my shaking stops. I should pull away. There is something very wrong with huddling in a bathtub with an attractive guy that has slept with your sister. Kane can only be trouble for me. He's the type of trouble Brooklyn likes. He is someone Brooklyn likes.