Waiting for You (38 page)

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Authors: Shey Stahl

BOOK: Waiting for You
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I know what I lost,
him. And the thought killed me inside. It was like watching the door close,
drawing back the curtains on a sunny day, and faded light overcome with
darkness.

 

Dylan left that morning back to Drew’s
house. I went with him and sure enough, my dad was waiting. I needed some
answers, I told Dylan I would come back and I went to breakfast with my dad.
Afraid he would kidnap me, I made Drew drive me.

We never made it inside
the restaurant. Instead, we talked outside his car. Truth be told, I didn’t
want to have breakfast with him. I didn’t want to be around him. Yeah, he was
my dad and nothing would change that but sometimes you can destroy a
relationship beyond repair. He did that.

“I don’t even know you
right now,” he said to me and it was finally the truth. It was honest and real
and maybe the first honest statement he has made in years, or ever.

I offered the smallest
flicker of my lashes, dark and unyielding. I had my own anger for the
situation. Anger I wanted to inflict and anger I wanted him to own and feel
deep―deeper than he ever felt imaginable. I wanted to show him that mine
was the kind of anger that would rise and spread like wildfire turning
everything to ash and black billowing clouds into the night’s sky. “You chose
not to know me. You never tried to, ever. You knew the daughter you wanted to
know, the daughter you created and the life you tried to control. And now
you’re just a liar, so far from the truth it’s pathetic.”

His face became hard
and anger flared. “You have no idea what it’s like.”

“You’re right,” I
agreed folding my hands over my chest. “I don’t have any idea because you kept
the truth from me. Why did you cover it up?”

He sighed, a frustrated
palm smacked against the hood of his car. “All right Bailey, here’s the fucking
truth. I was a drunk for years. I’ve cheated on your mom more times than she
probably cares to ever know. She found out that I was sleeping with Teresa and
got mad at me. I shook my head, repulsed that he slept with Mercedes’ mom. “I
got drunk and crashed a car into an innocent woman’s car. Come to find out, she
was our neighbor.” He was speaking this as if it was no big
deal,
words were flowing, scripted almost. “I was on the city council at the time and
set to be mayor,” he shook his head, “that would have been the end of my
career. I pulled a few connections with the prosecuting attorney, made sure it
was taken care of and set the Wade family up with a hefty financial security,
all of them. Ken benefited from it just as much as his boys did.”

“Money would never make
up for what you did,” I said crying again. “You took their mother, his wife
from them. Money doesn’t fix that shit.”

My words meant nothing.
He snorted, watchful of my guarded stance feet from him and Drew sitting in the
car, waiting for me. He knew I wasn’t leaving with him and that pissed him off.
It wasn’t in his control, this was out of his hands and that’s what he had a
problem with. “It could have happened to anyone. You think Dylan’s impervious
to it? You don’t think his
drunk
high ass couldn’t
have killed someone?”

It was the only truth
he had.
The difference?
Dylan wouldn’t have covered it
up. He would have owned his mistake.

“You’re wrong,” I said
stepping back a foot. I wasn’t going to respond or defend his actions and I
wasn’t going anywhere with him. “I’m not leaving with you.”

“You’re not going
anywhere, Bailey,” my dad said in a thick tone, he reached for me, his hands on
my arms gripping me tightly. I could feel the pulsating as his hands squeezed.
“I’ve had enough of this shit. You’re coming home.”

“No, I’m not.” I tasted
the salt from my tears when they ran over my lips. “I’m not going anywhere with
you.”

I heard Dylan’s GTO
before I saw it, as did my dad, his anger flared. “That son of a bitch just
doesn’t quit.”

He had no idea. I
looked to Drew who stood beside me now, reached for me knowing I would run to
him. “Stay back Bailey. Dylan is not something to get in the way of, especially
not now.”

My hands shook as did
the rest of my body, so badly that I could barely move or breathe without
wanting to scream. I felt trapped, like the world was ending right in front of
me and there was nothing I could do about it. My heartbeat was in my stomach,
racing, wanting to run to him.

Dylan pulled next to my
dad’s car and stepped out. With his hands in his pockets, his head was down
focused on the pavement. Memories from last night flashed behind my eyes when I
closed them.

With his fatherly
demeanor, my dad stepped to him but I couldn’t hear his words with my heart
beating and I know his words were threatening and forbidding.

To anyone else, it may
seem like my dad had the upper hand in this situation. He was older and louder
than Dylan, smarter, maybe but not analytical like Dylan. He’s the mayor. He’s
a father, my father, my protector. He was feared and respected by our entire
community. But that’s his world.

It wasn’t the world
Dylan and I had created this summer, not the world we know, not the love we
know. Dylan didn’t have to shout, or use his razor sharp words or cuss or hit
to get his point across unless he wanted to.

He could fuck you up
with one look. I’d been on the receiving end of that look before.

As my dad spoke,
walking closer, Dylan finally looked up at my dad and smirked.

The gesture sent my dad
over the edge he was barely teetering on. “You little shit. You think this is a
fucking joke, don’t you?”

Dylan’s eyes found
mine. My dad didn’t see it, his back was to me. His eyes lingered my way before
slowly shifting back to Jeff, challenging but relaxed.

They exchanged a few
more words, nothing I could hear and it made me want to get closer.

Dylan held his hands
up, as if surrendering. He shook his head and looked down, ignoring harsh
words. Then my dad pushed him against his car.

“Dad!”
I screamed fighting against Drew who was holding onto me. “Stop it, leave him
alone!”

Dylan stumbled back
against the car but didn’t fall. My dad pushed again, this time Dylan fell to
one knee, catching himself with his hands against the car.

My sight blurred from
the tears, my thoughts lost on anything but Dylan as my dad pushed him again.
This time Dylan laughed and used his car, his hand on the door handle
supporting him.

My dad had Dylan backed
into a corner but stepped back long enough for him to react, holding his hand
in the hair speaking but not yelling.

That’s when Dylan
looked at me. “Everything is fine brown eyes, get in the car with Drew,” he
said, his hands trembling.

My dad asked him a
question, but I couldn’t hear it. Dylan paced, spewing the answer and looking
around as if he wanted to escape. “I need to speak to Bailey, Jeff.” Dylan’s
voice rose but kept a calm mask.

“You’re not going
anywhere near my daughter again,” my dad replied, shoving Dylan back when he
tried to move past him.

Dylan looked at me and
spit blood on the pavement before meeting my father’s stare. “Do you think you
can keep me away from her?” he asked, smirking condescendingly. “You haven’t
done a great job so far, mayor. She’s been on my dick all summer and you
couldn’t stop that, could you?”

My dad grabbed Dylan by
his shirt and then slammed his knee into his stomach. Dylan fell, hard, the
wind knocked out of him, coughing and gasping for air.

In true Dylan form, he
recovered quickly, laughing as he kept his eyes on me.

I lost it. No one could
touch Dylan like that.
No one.
I didn’t care that he
was my
father,
he wasn’t going to hurt Dylan.

Eddy held his hands up
and let me go, backing away as if to say go for it.

Dylan stood slowly,
rising to his full height and bounced a few times, shaking out his hands and
twisted his head from side to side. “Don’t fuck with me, Jeff.” His voice was
low and commanding for the boy he was, his posture violent.

“What are you going to
do about it, kid?”

Dylan’s smirk was crooked,
condescending and menacing, promising but not threatening. He was relaxed,
surprisingly. Moments passed where my mind shifted through more memories and
moments.

Dylan was back on his
feet, yelling at my dad. I was pounding my fists into his back, trying to get
him to stop, screaming, crying, all of it.

As if Dylan’s patience
had ran out, he stepped forward. You could see my dad tense. I think he knew
then what Dylan was capable of. “That girl will always be mine,” he motioned to
me with a tip to his bloodshot eyes. “You can take her away but you can’t take
my memories. You can take my mom, Bailey, my life but they are my memories!” he
screamed until his voice gave and then he cried.

My heart was beating
irrational love, reckless and dangerous love that knew bleeding colors.

My dad stood near his
car, one hand on the door, the other pointing at me. “You’ve fucked your life
up Bailey.” He was done, finally done fighting. He knew by the look in my
innocent eyes that I wouldn’t go with and I wouldn’t forgive him. “He will
destroy everything you had going for you.”

He left.

Some might say what the
fight was for if he gave up but those were the people that never fought Dylan
Wade.

He wouldn’t give in. He
wouldn’t back down from this. Not when Jeff Gray had taken everything from him
already.

 

23.
  
Dangerous Love – Bailey Gray

 

 

Dylan and I were
two kids who fell hopelessly in love one summer, or maybe it happened when we
were younger but never knew it. Our intentions were not vindictive. Although we
accepted we probably would, Dylan and I never wanted to hurt anyone let alone
ourselves. But dangerous love, jealousy and spitefulness changed a lot of
things. Our circumstances made true liars out of us, and turned our innocent
love into dangerous love.

Somewhere along the
lines, it shifted and I couldn’t tell you where or when that happened.

We were back at
Drew’s house.

Dylan met me
halfway down the driveway. He was crying, slowly, slightly and barely
noticeable to anyone but me. Sliding one hand behind my neck and one against my
cheek, he pulled me close until out foreheads touched. He brought my hand to
his cheek, leaning into my
palm,
he closed his eyes
and breathed. “Brown eyes,” he whispered breathlessly, his tears fell, mine
fell, ultimately, we fell, together.

Dylan smiled with a
sweetness I knew well now. “I remember the first I ever saw you, brown eyes. I
think about that shit all the time.” He pressed our lips together. “I loved you
then, you know that, right? We were only three but I loved you then.”

I nodded knowing he
did, hot tears rolled down my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I said, moving closer.
Dylan’s hand fell from my face, to my shoulder, and slid down my arm.

“My heart will
always be with you,” he cried, choking on his words. He knew what this was.

I remembered his
words.
“Tell me a secret Dylan, something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“I love you.”

He was barely
moving, barely breathing, waiting for me to say something.

I stared at the ground
trying to process everything but I couldn’t think.

He hugged me and
kissed down the side of my face with wet lips. “Do you have any idea how hard
it is not to throw you in my car right now?” he smiled, he studied me,
candlelight contagious warming smile. I wanted this moment to last forever.

He looked down
before meeting my eyes, his face expressionless like he was attempting to turn
off any emotion he had, or didn’t want to have.

Dylan cleared his
throat and looked at me. Breathing through his noise, his eyebrows drawn
together and his chin quivered. “Say something.”

I couldn’t.

This was the worst
pain I had ever felt but also numbing, like I was dying.

It was hard to
believe that there would be no way around this. No matter what way I looked at
this, I would wonder what life held for me. And I don’t mean with anyone else.
I meant for me, with me. I didn’t know myself and this situation, the
conversations with my dad, my sunrise and sunset proved that.

Dylan wasn’t a
rebound or distraction. No. He couldn’t be. Not Dylan. Like I said, you don’t
just fall for someone like Dylan Wade. You bleed for someone like Dylan Wade.

We had the best of
intentions and maybe the way we got together was vindictive, spite, a way out,
the way we loved wasn’t. It was as pure as a snow covered lake. We loved. We
made memories.

Our love was
dangerous.

It was asking me to
come with him.

It was
“South it
is,
brown eyes.”

It was dancing in
the rain on the hood of his car.

It was making dents
that only we knew.

It was living in
the moment and making memories and deals.

It was being in
love and having your heart ripped from your chest. Here you take it, I don’t
want it anymore. It was that kind of shit.

It was
“Please
don’t do this, not here.”

It was here me now,
listen to me.

It was waiting, I
waited, and we waited.
Nothing.

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