Written on My Heart Page 18

…

  Lane

  “Tell me you want me,” he whispers in the dark

  Trapped in leather, his touch lighter than silk

  He holds me in a cage with the door wide open

  “Tell me to stop,” he says, “and I will.”

  But I don’t want him to stop

  The second he lets go, that’s when I’ll truly be lost.

  The words dig into my heart like Lane’s tattoo machine, each letter a hundred stabs with a needle. I toss the notebook aside and stand, even though I have nowhere to go. “Fuck!”

  Hank, stops chewing his bone long enough to cock his head at my behavior.

  “I didn’t ask for this,” I tell the puppy. “I can’t afford to have feelings for anyone right now. We’re leaving in less than a week!”

  The day after Lane tied me to the chair, a box showed up on my doorstep with my childhood stuffed panda bear, several yearbooks, and a brochure for an Atlanta community college. To be able to go to school full time, without having to work, is something I never dreamed possible. A month ago an opportunity like this would have been a dream come true. I should be happy.

  But I’m not.

  With a sigh, I flop on the floor beside Hank and rub his belly. His rolls onto his back to give me easier access, his tail thumping happily against the floor. It’s been almost a week since I told Lane I’m leaving for Atlanta, and he’s not staying away to make the move easier. He’s brought me dinner every night. And while he doesn’t always stay, before he leaves he makes certain I’ll get a good night’s sleep.

  I don’t ask him to stay even though I desperately want him to. I know there’s a girl named Harper in the picture, but I don’t know how she fits. Lane’s told me their relationship “isn’t like that.” I want to ask what that means, but at the same time, if I’m leaving, why make things more complicated than they already are?

  Laying on the floor, I can hear the muffled sound of Lane’s shop radio as well as the buzz from his needle. Over the last week, these sounds have come to represent something I’ve never had before—home. For the first time in my life I have a place that makes me feel safe and protected.

  A small voice whispers inside my head. Is it really the apartment that makes you feel that way? Or Lane?

  I push the thought out of my head. Despite my best attempts to keep him at a distance, Lane’s infiltrated my life in more ways than I care to admit. His scent lingers on my sheets, his art decorates my skin, and his touch haunts my dreams.

  “What am I supposed to do?” I ask Hank. I’ve worked so hard to guard the remaining bits of my heart, only to have given them away without realizing it. And now it’s too late.

  He stretches his neck and licks my nose.

  There’s a community college here in town, the voice whispers. Yes, you’d have to work while you attend, because you’re not a freeloader, and it won’t be easy to juggle school and work, but you can do it. And isn’t he worth it?

  I chew on my fingernail as I mull the idea over. It is a possibility—to stay. I’m sure I’d qualify for some kind of financial aid. I wouldn’t be the first person in history to work while going to college. And with access to the computers at school, I can pursue publishing options for my poetry.

  I can keep the life I’ve built.

  I can have Lane.

  That is, if he wants me.

  Because he has some chick’s name tattooed on his chest. That has to mean something, right? Even if he said it “wasn’t like that.” What the fuck does that even mean? And if he wants me to stay, wouldn’t he just say so?

  I groan and roll onto my back. Hank takes this as an invitation to climb on top of me and lick my face again. Laughing, I push him off. “You’re not helping the situation.”

  He grins like he understands me.

  Right.

  I sit up and pull the puppy onto my lap. “What do we do?” I ask him. “There are a million reasons to go and only one to stay. I risk my entire future if I don’t go, but I risk my heart if I do. What if Lane doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do about him? What if he can’t really be with me because he’s already involved? What if I drive myself crazy and end up in a mental ward?”

  Hank huffs and rests his head on my leg.

  So much for his help.

  My phone buzzes and I snatch it off the coffee table.

  Lane.

  My heart flutters when his name pops up on the screen.

  His message is a single word.

  Dinner?

  I can’t help but laugh. That silly boy is obsessed with feeding me. I quickly type back, Sure.

  His reply is immediate. Great. My last appointment cancelled. I’ll see you at six.

  Smiling, I glance at the clock. It’s nearly five, which gives me an hour to get ready. I need all the time I can get. Even though a shower and quick makeup application will take a half hour, I need the remaining minutes to psych myself up. With my move date rapidly approaching, I need to know how Lane feels about me—if my staying is something he even wants. Is he falling for me as hard as I’ve fallen for him? I’ve been used my entire life, so I won’t risk my future or my heart over a maybe. I’m done with the games, vague answers, and guessing.

  Lane is worth the sacrifices and the hard work I’d have to do to stay. I’m happy with Lane. I’m home. But in order for this to happen, he’s going to have to answer my questions.

  I need to know who Harper is, and if there’s room in Lane’s life, and heart, for me.

  And tonight I plan to ask him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lane

  I’m standing at the counter, double checking the bag I packed for Harper to make sure it includes her allergy meds as well as a toothbrush, when the door chime sounds.

  “Hey, Dad!” Before I can walk out from behind the counter, Harper rushes to me, wrapping her slender arms around my waist.

  “Hey, kiddo.” A pang of guilt shoots through me at how little time I’ve spent with her this week. Ignoring it, I squeeze her against me until she squeals. Hopefully, if all goes well tonight, I won’t have to feel guilty anymore.

  Emily breezes through the door with a strand of licorice dangling from her mouth. “Hey, big brother.”

  “How was the movie?” I ask.

  “Great!” Harper answers first. “Aunt Em bought a ton of candy and snuck it in her purse.”

  I narrow my eyes at my sister. “How much is a ton?”

  Smiling, she pulls the licorice from her mouth. “Chill, Laney. There’s no such thing as too many gummy bears.”

  “Yeah. I’ll remind you of that when Harper gets a cavity.”

  “You worry too much.” Em reaches out and ruffles my hair. “You got the kiddo’s bag all packed? We’re anxious to get on with our girl’s weekend.”

  “Yeah.” Harper releases my waist and grins. “We’re going to go shopping, get some dinner, and then watch movies until we fall asleep.”

  I frown. “How about until ten o’clock?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Emily takes the backpack off the counter and slips it over her shoulder. “Until ten o’clock.” She winks at Harper, who giggles.

  I sigh. I suppose there are worse things for a child than to be spoiled silly by her aunt.

  “So… ” Emily smirks and arches an eyebrow. “Working late again?”

  Ignoring her, I turn to Harper. “You know what? I think I forgot to pack your phone charger. It’s in the back on the counter. Why don’t you get it?”

  She shrugs. “Sure.”

  A second later she disappears behind the curtain, and I turn to Em. “I’m going to tell her.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Ashlyn. I’m going to tell her about Harper. Tonight. I’m going to tell her everything.”

  Em’s smile dissolves. “What? Why? You know she’s leaving in less than a week, right?”

  “I know. It’s just… ” Sighing, I jam my hands into my back pockets. “I don’t want her to go
, Em. Maybe she doesn’t have to. Maybe she’ll stay.”

  The remaining licorice falls from Em’s mouth onto the floor. “Holy fuck, I didn’t think it was possible.”

  “What?”

  She grabs my arm. “You. Lane. Lane Garrett. Man with an iron heart. You like her.”

  I make a face. “Iron heart?”

  Still holding my arm, she starts hopping up and down. “You like-like her. Oh my God.” She cranes her neck toward the window. “Am I dreaming? Are there zombies outside? Is it the end of the world? What’s happening?”

  I yank my arm from her grip. “Calm down. Just because I like her doesn’t mean she’ll stay.” The memory of walking into an empty apartment and finding Harper’s mother gone hits me square in the gut, and I turn away. “I might not be enough. You said she doesn’t like kids.”

  “That’s what she told me, but I don’t believe it. After all, didn’t you tell me how great she was with Harper?”

  “Yes. But why would she lie about something like that?” I ask.

  Em shrugs and places a hand on my cheek, forcing me to look at her. “I don’t know. But I do know this; you’re enough. You’re more than enough. I bet when she sees what an amazing dad you are, she’ll fall even more in love with you.”

  “What?” I jerk back, startled by this revelation “You think she’s in love with me?”

  “Please.” She drops her hand and smiles. “I’m not blind, Laney. The girl had it bad for you from the minute she saw you.”

  “Really?” Despite my best effort, a smile tugs at my lips. “You’re not just saying that so your brother makes a royal ass of himself tonight?”

  She folds her arms across her chest. “Just because you’re my annoying, overprotective big brother doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy.” Her face softens. “Because I do. That’s all I ever want for you.”

  I pull her to me. She yelps and tries to push away, but I only cuddle her harder until she laughs. It’s funny how whenever I look at her, I see the small girl she was, crying beside our dad’s fresh grave—the girl I promised Dad’s partner I’d protect. “When did you grow up to be such an amazing, strong woman?”

  She tilts her head up and smiles. “I had a great older brother to guide me.”

  I hook an arm around her neck and kiss the top of her head. “And now?”

  “Now I’m good.”

  The words she’s not saying swell inside my chest, tightening it. “You don’t need your old, big brother anymore?”

  She leans her head against my shoulder. “I’ll always need my big brother, just not as much. That doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.” She wraps her arms around my waist and gives me a squeeze. “You’re stuck with me.”

  I’m glad she’s tucked beneath my chin so she can’t see the impact her words have. That doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere. The words echo inside my head, striking a chord that vibrates throughout my entire body. I always told myself I was doing what Dad wanted me to do by following her to parties and monitoring her every move. But what if my overprotectiveness wasn’t about fulfilling my obligation to take care of the family, but was more about the fear of losing someone else I love?

  I chuckle softly. “I think I may be a little fucked in the head, Em.”

  She shrugs. “We all are, Laney. At least you’re not scared to admit it.”

  No. I’m not scared to admit it. There’s only one thing I’m terrified of. “I’m scared I’m going to lose her, Em.”

  She pushes off my chest. “Then you have to tell her the truth. You have to tell her exactly how you feel. No more holding everything inside.”

  “I don’t hold things inside.”

  She crosses her arms and makes a face.

  I grunt and push my fingers through my hair. “Fine. Maybe I do. It’s just… what if I tell her everything, about how I feel, and it’s not enough?”

  She’s quiet a moment, pressing her lips into a tight line. Finally, she touches me lightly on the arm. “Then you have to be strong enough to let go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ashlyn

  There’s a sharp knock at my door. Hank barks, and I grab a hair tie from the small pedestal sink in the bathroom and put my hair in high ponytail. I walk out of the bathroom and glance at the oven clock. Five forty-five. Lane’s early.

  I’m brimming with a mixture of excitement and dread as I walk to the door. Tonight will determine whether Lane feels the same way about me as I do about him. Tonight will either be the beginning of something amazing or the end of everything.

  I give myself a little shake before I unlock the deadbolt. Whatever happens, my future is on the other side. I place a hand on the doorknob. There’s no going back now.

  I’ve barely cracked the door open when it flies inward. With a yelp, I stumble out of the way, but I’m not fast enough. The door’s edge clips my shoulder, sending waves of fiery pain down my arm.

  The sun backs the man in my doorway so he’s only a red silhouette. I blink until my eyes focus. Even then I’m not certain I believe what I’m seeing—my biggest nightmare manifested before me.

  “No,” I whisper, my throat so tight it’s on the verge of closing.

  “You think you can hide from me? I’d call you stupid, but that would imply you have a brain.” My stepdad strides inside my apartment and slams the door hard enough to rattle the walls. His body is rigid, from his arms to the tendons flexing in his jaw. His hands are fists, and his eyes are so wide I can see the red spider web of veins around the edges. Anger radiates off of him in waves so hot they burn against my skin.

  I scramble away only to hit the couch’s armrest with the back of my knees. I tumble over the edge, landing on a cushion. “W-what are you doing here?”

  Growling, Hank darts for Charles’ ankle. Before the puppy can sink his teeth in, Charles kicks him in the side. Hank yelps as he tumbles backward.

  “Hank!” A flare of anger burns through my fear, giving me the courage to stand. I push myself off the couch and start toward the corner where Hank is cowering, but Charles blocks my path.

  He glances around the room, his lips curling in a sneer. “I should have known you’d end up in a dump like this.”

  The urge to curl into a ball is overwhelming. A whimper pushes up my throat and I swallow it down. If not for the throbbing in my shoulder, I’d be convinced I am having a nightmare. Charles took everything I had—my home, my mother, my belongings. What more can he want? “Why are you here?” I ask again, a slight waver to my voice.

  He laughs and crosses his arms. He’s not a large man, shorter than Lane by several inches, but his presence fills every inch of the tiny apartment, to the point I can no longer breathe. “Like you don’t know.”

  When I don’t say anything, he makes a disgusted sound. “You really are that stupid.” Before I can respond, he grabs my arm. His hand is fire hot and slick with sweat. I try to recoil, but he only digs his fingers in tighter, just enough to bring pain, but not enough to bruise. He’s a master at knowing the difference.

  This time, I can’t hold back the whimper, and I cringe at how pathetic I am. He wrenches my arm forward and draws me closer, ducking his head low so our foreheads almost touch. I turn my head away but he squeezes my arm, making me yelp.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” The words are a roar, thundering in my head and reverberating through my bones. My knees go weak, and it takes every ounce of strength I have left to remain standing. “You know why I’m here.”

  His breath is sour, and flecks of his spit speckle my cheek. I grimace.

  “You stole from me you stupid, worthless girl! And I’m here to get back what’s mine.”

  I always knew he was slightly unhinged. I mean, what kind of man can charm a perfect stranger one minute and terrorize his own family the next? Surely he must see none of my meager possessions ever belonged to him. I shake my head. “I don’t have anything of yours.”

  “Liar!” With his hand on my
arm, he shoves me backward. “You stole money, my money, that I worked hard for—something your lazy ass knows nothing about. How did you get this place, anyway? Are you selling drugs? Your body?” He releases me suddenly, a disgusted look on his face.

  I scramble away from him, rubbing my burning arm as I do. I don’t bother to correct him. Years of him assuming the worst have taught me it’s pointless to try to explain. Instead, I steer the conversation back to where it started. “What money do you think I stole? Look around. I don’t have anything.”

  His eyes narrow. “You think I’m an idiot? You think I wouldn’t find out about the money you conned your mother into giving you?”

  Shit. He found out about the money Mom gave me to move. I don’t believe she lied to me that she’d saved it from her earnings. To Charles, everything belongs to him.

  Somehow, despite the lump of terror wedged in my throat, I find my voice. “You need to leave. This is my apartment and you’re not welcome here. If you don’t… ” I glance at the phone sitting on my coffee table only a few feet away. “I’ll call the police.”

  “By all means.” He pulls his own phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll call them myself to report your theft.” He gestures to around the room. “I’d actually be doing you a favor. Spending the night in a jail cell will sure as hell be a step up from this place.”

  I almost relent. If there’s anything Charles knows how to do, it’s influence people. Even without proof, he might actually be able to convince the cops I’m a thief. He’s a master at keeping his real persona hidden behind the mask of a church-going, white-collared, respectable man. For the first time in my life, anger overpowers my fear. It burns through my veins like acid, curling my fingers into fists. “How dare you come into my home, kick my dog, and threaten me!” I take a step toward him.

  For just a second, his eyes flutter wide with surprise before they return to their usual expression of contempt. I go on, “You’re nothing but a sad, old man who’s so pathetic you get off bullying a girl—a girl you were supposed to take care of.”

  His cheeks puff with rage. “You little bitch. How dare you talk that way to me?” He spits the last word through clenched teeth. Even though I flinch on the inside, my anger gives me the courage to stand firm. I spent my entire childhood living in terror of him, but since being kicked out, I’ve learned there are scarier things than a fat, balding, fifty-something investment banker. In fact, compared to the meth tweakers, perverted truck drivers, and drug dealers I’ve encountered, he’s nothing.