CHAPTER TWO
Indiana
Tears threaten to fall as I storm down the hall towards my room, but I will them back down. I shed a lot of tears after he left, too many to count. I refuse to shed another. Fuck him.
Ripping my wet shirt over my head, I throw it across the room in anger before flopping face first onto my bed. He’s back. After all this time he’s come home. I don’t know how I feel about that. Actually, yes I do. I’m elated, devastated, and pissed off like you wouldn’t believe. Is it possible to feel so many emotions at the same time? I guess it is, because I’m feeling all of them right now.
I knew in my heart what I felt for him all those years ago was still lurking somewhere in the background. Hidden deep within the depths of my soul. Seeing him now has brought everything flooding back to the surface. It took me years to move on after he left. Fucking years.
I can’t go there again, I just can’t.
There was a time I would’ve done anything to see him again. Absolutely anything. But, he’s come back five years too late. I have Mark now. Next week we’ll be celebrating one year together. I care for him deeply. Maybe even love him. To be honest, I’m not sure. He’s already told me he loves me, but I can’t say it back. Not until I’m one hundred percent certain. Maybe because what I feel for him doesn’t hold a candle to what I once felt for Carter. I think that’s what’s throwing me.
Mark’s handsome, successful and hardworking, but he’s never been able to ignite the burning desire within like Carter could. Mark and I met at college. He chased me for months before I eventually gave in and agreed to go on a date with him. We’ve been together ever since. He’s the first guy I’ve been intimate with since Carter. I stayed clear of any kind of relationship after he left.
For years my shattered heart still belonged to him.
Finally, I gave in to the notion that he wasn’t coming back, so I decided I needed to at least try and love again. Mark’s a good guy. The total opposite to Carter. He’s definitely not what you’d call the bad boy type. He’s safe. Stable. Most importantly, he loves me. He’d never walk away from me. Never crush me the way Carter did all those years ago.
••••
I locked myself in my room for most of the morning. I wasn’t aware of what was going on next door until I finally surfaced. I had no idea Mr. Shepard had passed away during the night. That’s obviously the reason why Carter has returned. To be honest, I’m glad he’s dead. The way he treated his stepson and what he did to me after Carter left, I can’t say I’m upset about his passing.
“Elizabeth’s a mess,” my father says over lunch.
“I bet she is,” is my only reply.
“Carter came home this morning,” he adds giving me a strange look. I know he’s waiting to see my reaction. Well he’s not getting one.
“Yeah I know. I’ve already had the misfortune of running into him.” I take a bite of my sandwich so I don’t have to say anymore.
“You’re still angry after all these years?” he asks reaching across the table and placing his hand over mine. I sigh.
“No,” I lie. My dad cocks an eyebrow. I try to act like I’m unaffected, but I get the impression he can see straight through my facade. I divert my eyes and take another bite of my sandwich.
“Five years have passed, Pumpkin,” he says tightening his grip on my hand. “Maybe it’s time to let all that hurt and anger go. He may have been a little misguided in his thinking, but he did what he thought was best.” Does he think I haven’t tried to let this go? Tried to forget him? I know he had his reasons for leaving. I get that. In my eyes though, the way he went about it was wrong. The fact that I haven’t heard a word from him in five years cuts me to the core. I’m not sure if I can get past that.
“Can we change the subject, Daddy? I don’t want to talk about Carter Reynolds.”
“Fair enough. Let’s talk about the funeral then.” He gives me a weak smile before continuing. “I know how you feel about John, Indi,” he says. “I feel the same way. In saying that though, I think we should attend the funeral. For Elizabeth and Carter’s sake. As a sign of respect to them.” I roll my eyes. Going to that cocksucker’s funeral is the last thing I want to do.
“Fine,” I sigh. I don’t like that idea one bit, but I’ll go for Elizabeth’s sake. Nothing else. She’s a sweet lady. I’ll never understand what she saw in that jackass, but he was her husband, so I guess she’ll need all the support she can get.
••••
I’ve managed to evade Carter for the past two days. My emotions are still all over the place since seeing him again. I’ve spent the last two nights at Mark’s house which is something I rarely do, but it was the only way I could avoid running into him.
Thankfully, work’s been flat out, so during the day I haven’t had time to think about anything else. To think about him. The guy that crushed my heart.
Today is Mr. Shepard’s funeral, so avoiding him isn’t going to be an option. That’s if Carter even attends. I know how he felt about his stepfather. We share a loathing for him. I’m pretty sure he’ll be there for his mother though. It’s the only reason my dad and I are going.
“You look lovely, Pumpkin,” my father says smiling when I walk into the kitchen. For funeral attire, I suppose I look okay. I’m wearing a knee-length, black fitted pencil skirt, a short sleeve black silk blouse and black heels. My long, dark hair is pulled into a tight bun on the top of my head.
“Thanks, Dad. You look nice, too,” I reply as I walk towards him and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. He looks handsome in his black suit. I’m sure he has a lot of lady admirers. I understand how much he loved my mum, but I wish he could let go of the past. It’s been sixteen years since her death. It’s time he started to live again.
I’m concerned about him going today. I hope it doesn’t bring up memories of my mum’s funeral. Things are still hard for him. Well, the fact that he continues to lock himself away those two days every year, tells me they are.
There’s a black car parked in next door’s driveway when we leave. I feel sick in the stomach on the drive to the crematorium. Not about the funeral, but about seeing Carter. I feel like a fraud going to the funeral of someone I hate. I’ll never be able to find it in my heart to forgive him for what he did. Never.
Once we park the car, dad and I head over to the chapel. We mill around outside with the others. All of ten people I might add. I guess being the world’s biggest prick meant he didn’t have many friends.
My dad makes small talk with the two men standing beside us, while I try and calm the inner turmoil raging within me about seeing Carter. I overhear one of the men tell my father he’s Mr. Shepard’s brother. I’m not usually judgemental, but I’m immediately sceptical of him. After all, they’re related. The other man says he’s one of Mr. Shepard’s employees. It makes me wonder if any of the people here were actually his friends. People like him don’t have friends I guess. Just enemies.
My stomach’s doing flip-flops when the funeral car arrives. I presume Carter and his mother are in the black car that pulls up behind it. It was the one that I saw parked in their driveway before we left. My hands are trembling so I wrap them around my middle. The driver gets out of the car and makes his way towards the back door. I try not to look when he opens it, but my damn eyes aren’t doing what they’re told.
Carter gets out of the car first. I swear I stop breathing as soon as I see him. He’s dressed in a black suit. He looks so different. So grown up. So damn hot. For some reason it makes my heart ache. I’ve never seen him in anything other than casual attire. He is absolutely breathtaking. No other words could describe how good he looks. Seventeen year old Carter was a sight, but an adult Carter … no words.
He reaches for his mother’s hand and helps her from the vehicle. My heart hurts for her when I see how broken she looks. Poor thing. I feel bad that I haven’t given her my condolences yet, but there was no way I was going over to her house knowing Carter was there.
Carter leads her over towards the chapel. When she gets a glimpse of the coffin in the back of the hearse, a fresh load of tears fall from her red, puffy eyes. I feel my own eyes well just watching her. She looks so broken. Carter wraps her in his arms and holds her tight. Memories of what it felt like when he held me like that flood my mind. I try to push those thoughts away. That’s the past and exactly where it needs to stay. I have Mark now.
When he first left all those years ago, I was heartbroken. I cried for weeks. Part of me understood why he felt he had to go. I didn’t like it, but I understood. As the months and years passed though, and I got no word from him, none whatsoever, that hurt turned to anger. I know the night I gave him my virginity we’d agreed it would only be one night, but that night, I not only gave him my virtue, I gave him my heart. When he left the very next day without so much as a goodbye, it crushed me. I’m not sure if I can forgive him for that.
We may not have been in a relationship, but first and foremost, he was my friend. Friend’s don’t treat each other like that. He made me, and what we shared in our short time together seem inconsequential. Did I mean so little to him? I guess so.
After shaking Carter’s hand, my dad wraps Mrs. Shepard in his arms. She cries into his chest. He’s lost his spouse as well, so if anyone knows what she’s going through right now it’s him. As I watch them together, I can feel Carter’s eyes boring into me. I don’t dare look. Thankfully, I’m wearing my large, dark sunglasses so he can’t see my eyes.
When my father lets go of Mrs. Shepard, I wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry for your loss, Elizabeth,” I say.
“Thank you, sweetie,” she sniffles as she returns the hug. Letting go, I step back so she can move on to the next guest. A shadow falls over me. Looking up, I find Carter standing in front of me. The cheeky fucking bastard has his arms outstretched, waiting for his hug. I don’t think so buddy. I see a smirk cross his face when my brow furrows. Before I get a chance to say anything he pulls me into his arms. Fucker. He knows I’m not going to make a scene at a funeral.
God he smells amazing.
I know I should push him away, but for some reason I can’t. My arms seem to have a mind of their own when they slide around his waist. He exhales, pulling me in tight. “Christ I’ve missed you,” he whispers so only I can hear. Tears sting my eyes. I’ve missed him too, but it’s too late for that. I waited for years for him to return, and when he didn’t I moved on.
When reality hits, I have no choice but to pull away. All these feelings that I’m having towards him are consuming me with guilt. Making me feel like I’m doing wrong by Mark. As much as I hate to say this, once the funeral is over, I hope Carter goes back to wherever he came from. Having him around again is too hard. I have a new life now. A life that doesn’t include him.
••••
For the rest of the service I don’t leave my father’s side. The whole time I feel Carter’s eyes on me. Only once do I give in to the temptation to look his way. Of course I find him staring straight at me. The sad look on his face as his eyes bore into mine makes my chest ache for some reason. I quickly divert my eyes back to the front of the room.
After we left the Chapel, Mrs. Shepard invited us to her house for the wake. I had no intentions of going back, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asked had me saying yes. Damn it. Carter better stay the hell away.
“I’m not going to stay long,” I tell my father when we pull into our driveway. I can’t handle these feelings Carter evokes in me when he’s around. Staying away from him is the only way.
“Sure, Pumpkin. I’m sure Elizabeth and Carter will appreciate you making an appearance.”
Of course when we enter the house the first person I see is him. His eyes immediately find mine. The corners of his lips turn up slightly, making his gorgeous face even more handsome. He’s standing in the corner of the main room looking completely out of place. Why I feel bad for him, I can’t say. I suppose it would suck to feel uncomfortable in your own home, I guess. I find myself wanting to go over and talk to him, but I don’t. Instead I head towards the kitchen to see if there’s anything I can do to help. At least in here I’ll be away from his watchful gaze.
Just my luck they have caterers hosting the wake, so when I’m told there’s nothing I can do to help I head back into the main room, deflated. My heart sinks when I find my dad standing with Carter. There’s no way I’m going over there to join them. Thankfully, they’re lost in conversation and don’t notice I’ve re-entered the room. I don’t know anyone else here, so I slip outside and take a seat on the front step. I need the fresh air. I need the space. I need to be as far away from Carter as I can get.
Ten minutes later, I hear the front door open behind me. Turning my head, I find him standing there looking all smug and delicious. Great. Everything in me wants to get up and walk away, but that’s not the adult thing to do. As angry as I am at him, we’re not teenagers anymore.
“I was wondering where you got to,” he says coming to sit beside me. “Here, I brought you something to drink.” He holds up a glass of wine. I have a good mind to tell him to jam it up his smug arse, but the truth is, I need it.
“Thank you,” I reply reaching for it, but he pulls back his hand. I narrow my eyes at him. Ugh! “I see some things haven’t changed. You’re still an arsehole.” He laughs at my comment like it’s funny. It wasn’t meant to be funny.
“I’m just messing with you,” he says passing it to me for real this time. He’s already removed his tie and suit jacket. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing a full sleeve tattoo on his arm. He didn’t have that last time I saw him. It only serves to make him look even more like a bad boy. Three words come to mind—Sexy. As. Hell. I hate that his presence still has a huge effect on me.
I find myself wondering what his life’s been like since he left. A long time has passed since we were last together. Going by his past, he’s probably still a man whore. I hate it that that thought upsets me. “So how have you been?” he asks taking a pull of the beer in his hand.
He must’ve been wondering the same thing as me. I shrug. Is it wrong that my eyes are focused on his lips wrapped around the head of the bottle? I remember all too well what those lips felt like. Being near him again seems so surreal.
“It’s had its ups and downs,” I answer with a shrug. His eyes lock with mine. The look I see on his face is so intense I have to turn away, taking a huge gulp of my wine. I’m not sure if I can have this conversation with him. It’s funny; for years I longed for him to return, and now he’s here, I wish he wasn’t.
“How’s my man, Larry?” he asks, breaking the awkward silence. My heart sinks. He hasn’t been around, so I guess he doesn’t know. “Would you mind if I went to see him? I’ve thought about him a lot over the years.” Just hearing him ask that has tears rising to my eyes. I quickly lower my face so he can’t see them.
What I wouldn’t give to see Lassie again. Reaching up, I grab hold of the necklace Carter bought me, clutching it in my hand. I took it off after he left, but when Lassie passed I put it back on. The necklace and the picture Carter drew are all I have left.
“He died,” I choke out. Even after all these years it still breaks my heart whenever I think about him. When I think about what happened.
“What?” he says in a tone that makes me think he doesn’t believe what I said. I wish I was lying. My eyes move back to Carter’s. Even through my tears I can clearly see the colour drain from his face. “Fuck,” is all he says as he puts down his beer and engulfs me in his arms. I go willingly, burying my face in his chest. “What happened? He was still young … so healthy.” A sob escapes me as the memories of that morning flash through my mind. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that day.
“It was all my fault,” I admit for the first time ever. I’ve always known I was the reason behind Lassie’s death, but I’ve kept that to myself all these years. The truth was just too hard to live with. I’m ashamed that my childish actions were the result of his death.
“What? How?” he asks in disbelief as his hand strokes my back to comfort me. I can feel his body trembling as he holds me. I know he loved Lassie as much as I did, so I’m sure he’ll be upset by my news. For some reason I don’t hesitate to tell him the truth, it’s time I confessed.
I keep my face buried in his chest. I can’t bring myself to look at him. I don’t want to see the judgement in his eyes when he hears what I have to say. “After you left, I was so angry with your stepfather. I knew in my heart he was part of the reason you went away. Every day, for weeks, I threw Lassie’s droppings over the back fence into his yard. It was my revenge. My way of saying ‘fuck you’ for the way he treated you when you were here. At the time it felt so good. I knew it would piss him off, I just didn’t know how much.” I feel his body stiffen.
“Did he do something to him?” he asks, grasping my shoulders and pulling me back so he could see my face. Yes he did. Fucking arsehole. I hope he rots in hell.
“Yes,” I choke out as memories of that morning flood my mind. I can clearly see the anger cross his handsome features when I admit that. He stares at me for a moment before pulling me back into his chest.
“What did he fucking do?” he seethes through gritted teeth.
“One morning, I went out back to feed Lassie before school, as I always did. That’s … that’s when I found him,” I say as fresh tears begin to fall. God I wish I could erase that image from my mind. “He was fitting in his bed. There was green foam coming from his mouth. He was struggling to breathe. Oh, Carter. It was horrible,” I cry as his hold on me tightens. “I don’t think I’ll ever get that image out of my head.”
“Fuck. Did he poison him?” His body is clearly shaking with anger now.
“Yes. He poisoned him with snail bait. It’s something we never used in our gardens because we knew how toxic it was for dogs. The amount of poison the vet found in his system suggested he’d ingested a large amount. An autopsy showed traces of minced meat that must’ve contained the pellets to entice Lassie to eat it.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“By the time we got him to the vet it was too late. He was too far gone,” I continue.
“Did he get charged for what he did? My mum never mentioned it in our phone calls.”
“My dad tried. We couldn’t prove it was him, but we both knew it was. We took a sample from his garden. It was the same type that was used to poison Lassie. Unfortunately, it’s a commonly used brand, so without any concrete evidence there wasn’t much we could do.” Tears are streaming down my face as I feel my heart break all over again. I miss him so much. He didn’t deserve to die like that. He was a good dog.
“I’m fucking sorry,” Carter says squeezing me to him. “So fucking sorry. That must’ve been a hard thing to see. I know how much you loved that dog. Fuck. If that motherfucker wasn’t already dead, I’d make him suffer for what he did.” His tone tells me he means every word. That’s exactly how I felt when it happened.
When Mr. Shepard pulled into the driveway that afternoon after work, my dad marched straight over there and punched him square in the mouth. It would never make up for what he did, but it gave us some satisfaction.