Very Wicked Things

But didn’t I know? She made me like this. Being near Dovey made me all kinds of off-kilter. It was nuts to even be near her, yet I’d given her a ride, talked about Cara, and had had a cup of tea in her house. All in the space of a day.

And back in the hallway, I’d wanted to kiss her.

I needed to get the fuck out of here and get myself back on track.

“Don’t be breaking her heart again,” she said tartly as if reading my mind.

I cringed.

“Mmm-hmm, I know who you are,” she said. “Hollywood.”

And that nickname haunted me. Because I wasn’t that person anymore. Deep down, I wasn’t the charming and carefree guy everyone thought. I was self-centered and—

“I have to see Dovey before I go,” I said suddenly, needing to talk to her.

“Down the hall on the left, hotrod,” she murmured, shooing me out the door.

I left the kitchen and stopped at an open door where a lamp was lit, spreading its glow on Dovey as she rested behind a sleeping older lady I assumed was Sarah.

I paused, taking in the scene, noticing how protective Dovey seemed as she cradled Sarah’s waist. I realized she’d been attending BA and doing ballet as usual even though her guardian was slowly dying.

My phone pinged and I pulled it out. It was a text from my dad, telling me he was staying in the city again tonight. No surprise there. His absence stung, and I rubbed my chest, wanting to erase the guilt that lay there.

Perhaps hearing my phone, Dovey’s eyes opened, automatically finding mine through the open door. Sadness swept over me. For us, for what I’d done. And like a dark cloud, loneliness descended, making me ache, making me want to go to her.

She sent me a questioning look, as if sensing my distress. She smiled softly, and something in me cracked.

Thank God, she didn’t turn away—when I had rejected her.

I stood there, pumping myself up, wishing I had the nerve to go in and just—I don’t know—let her hold me like she was holding Sarah, just something. I wanted to lie down with her on that bed until our breaths were in sync; I wanted to hang on to her like I’d die without her; I wanted to touch every hair on her head and bury my nose in her scent. And it wasn’t a sexual thing. Not at all. Because she was so much more. She was someone who’d loved me at one point, and right now, I just needed some forgiveness for the things I’d done. My body shifted and I wanted to go in, but my fists clenched, and I backed away from the door and fell against the wall, away from her gaze.

She’d refused my apology. She hadn’t taken my jacket.

“Cuba,” she whispered from inside the room, and I straightened up, heart hammering. It didn’t take much to get me to moving when it came to her. Never had.

I walked in, getting my words together, picking at my track pants. There was so much between us, her problems, my problems, our past.

She eased out of the bed, checked to make sure Sarah was still asleep, and tucked the covers around her with light hands.

Then she came to me.

I swallowed, suddenly wanting—no needing—for her to see the real me. To know the truth. “I mentioned Cara earlier…” I drifted off. Afraid of what she’d think.

“Yeah. You wanna talk?”

I nodded and leaned against the bedroom wall, my body boneless. “My sister loved to ride horses and play soccer, a tomboy, I guess. One day—” my voice broke, but I coughed, yanking it back.

“My mom left her with me so she could go shopping. We played inside that day because of the rain. We watched a Disney movie, something about princesses or fairies. I—I got distracted by a phone call from one of my buddies. We started talking about sports and girls, and before I knew it, she’d slipped out the door. And then sh—she rode her bike out into the street. A truck ran her down and ended up wrapped around a tree. Cara…she died in my arms. The man driving passed away at the hospital from injuries. I wasn’t paying attention. I—I killed them.” My voice splintered, my entire body aching from remembering everything: the screech of tires I’d heard from the house, the thumping sounds of my feet as I ran down our long drive, the groans that came out of Cara, and then the terrifying screams that had erupted from me until I had nothing left.

And finally the sirens.

I beat my fist against the side of my head. Trying to knock it out, make it all go away. God, please.

She pulled down my hand, her eyes bright. “Oh, Cuba, please don’t hurt yourself,” she said gently. “You were a kid.”

I shook my head. “I kept thinking she was okay because there wasn’t any blood, you know? Not a drop anywhere, but she was all broken on the inside.” I chewed the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling out. “People say everything happens for a reason. Do you think fate or God or whatever is out there, wanted my sister to die? Wanted it to be by my hands?”

Her eyes softened. “No, life just happens, bad and good. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. Did a higher power give Sarah a deadly disease? Or make my mama an addict? I don’t think so. Life is choices. It’s how we go on that makes us who we are.”

I paused, forgetting about myself for a second. “You never told me about your mom.”

“I didn’t trust you,” she said sadly.

My hands clenched. “Yeah, I’m a selfish fuck.”

“I remember you when you weren’t,” she said.

“Don’t be fooled by me, Dovey.”