Unafraid

I catch my breath, feeling the icy fear settle around me and collect into something hard and sharp.

He’s ashamed of me.

The knowledge slams through me, triggering a tide of old memories. Every time a guy arranged to meet me out of town, after dark. The secret hook-ups, and times they’d pass me on the street without another glance. Every night I saw them out with their daylight girlfriends, laughing with their families and friends, knowing they thought I was good for only one thing.

And after everything, Hunter’s just the same.

Oh God.

The pain rises in me, but I bite it back, reaching for the only weapon I can. Anger.

“What, are you worried she’ll catch you fooling around with the help?” My voice is brittle and sarcastic.

Hunter looks up. His eyes widen. “What? Brit no. I’m happy you’re here.” He catches my hands again, holding them to his chest. “God, I’ve missed you so bad. It’s just… bad timing. There’s a lot going on.”

“Like the party.” I say, with a hard tone.

“The party, Dad’s company, Mom.” Now he’s away from the crowd, Hunter’s dropped the smile, and just looks worn out. “But I’m glad you came, really I am.”

He tries to pull me against him, but now I’m the one who’s frozen in place. I’m trying to stay in control, but a wave of emotion is crashing down around me, every doubt and insecurity I’ve managed to ignore since Hunter came walking back into my life now rearing its ugly head.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whisper, my eyes never leaving his. “About the party.”

Hunter looks confused. “It’s just another one of their bullshit events. Mom roped me into helping, guilt-tripped me all over again.”

“But it’s a family event,” I say, clenching my jaw to keep back the tears stinging in the back of my throat. “Everyone’s coming, she said so.”

“You talked to my mother?” Hunter’s face changes. “Shit.”

My mouth drops open. He’s more worried that I ran into his mom than the fact he’s been lying to me all week? “Is that not allowed?” I challenge him, my anger growing. “You want me to sneak in the servant’s entrance, so nobody knows I’m here?”

His forehead crinkles in confusion. “Brit, what are you talking about?”

“You don’t want me here!” I cry. My fists are clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms. If I can hold it together, then maybe I won’t collapse in a sobbing mess, no matter how much it hurts inside. “You didn’t ask me to come visit, you freak out now that I’m here. God, if you don’t want to do this anymore, just say so! Don’t string me along like a f**king idiot!”

Hunter shakes his head. “That’s not what’s happening. You need to calm down.”

“Why, so I don’t cause a scene?” I yell, the tangle of rejection biting in my chest. “You’re forgetting, Hunter, that’s what I do. I’m the crazy white-trash bitch, ask anyone!”

“Brit!” Hunter tries to reach for me, but I wrench away.

“What are you doing, Hunter?” I demand. “You say you want to get away from this. Build your own life, on your terms. I thought you meant it. I thought we…” A sob rises and I have to stop, but the words sit, unsaid between us.

I thought we were for real.

“I did mean it, I do!” Hunter’s expression is harsh. “But hell, Brit, you don’t even know what I’m dealing with here.”

“That’s because you won’t tell me!” I cry. “How am I supposed to be a part of your life if you won’t let me in?”

“I’m trying to protect you!” He cries. “Jesus, you want my mom on your case all day too? All the guilt and bullshit and grief?”

“I want you to be honest,” I hiccup back, the tears finally overflowing and sliding in hot, wet streams down my cheeks. “If you wanted it to be just sex, then you should have just told me! But instead, you made all those promises to me. And I believed you!”

Stupid girl. You knew it was too good to be true, and you went and fell for him anyway.

“This isn’t about you!” Hunter yells, his whole body coiled with tension. “Nothing’s changed here, Brit. Jesus, if you could just leave me alone to deal with it all—”

“So you don’t want me here.” I cut him off, hearing only the rejection in his words. “Well, maybe you should have said something before I came and made a damn fool of myself.”

I turn on my heel to go, but Hunter grabs my arm and yanks me back. “No way,” he curses, pushing me against the wall. “You don’t get to make this my fault.”

I gape at him. How can he say that, after everything?

“You left me!” I scream. “You promised. You said, you would never walk away. But here you are.” I gesture around, at the manicured lawns and white-trimmed mansion, and the fancy, rich life I could never even dream about. “Do you even know when you’re coming back?”

“My father—” Hunter protests, still stormy.

“Bullshit,” I cut him off, sobbing. “Your daddy is fine, he was always fine. But you’re still here, running around playing at being the perfect son, even though you hate every minute of it. Or maybe you don’t.” I stare at him, realization dawning. “Maybe your mom was right, and Beachwood was just you acting out, playing at making your own choice. It was all just a game to you. I was just a game.”

I feel another sob rise up in me, hollow and desperate. Oh God, I did it again. I believed him, when he told me this was for real. I gave him my heart, I gave him everything, and he’s going to leave me, just like they always do.

“You don’t understand the pressure I’m under!” Hunter’s eyes are dark with frustration. “My dad is counting on me, both of them are. You don’t know what that’s like!”

I inhale in a sharp rush. “Gee, you’re right. I guess I’m lucky that my junkie mom ran off years ago, and I never even knew my dad.”

Hunter looks mad. “That’s not what I meant!”

“So tell me what you do mean!” I feel myself crumple, the weight of rejection too much to bear. “You’re not coming back, not anytime soon. You don’t want me here. It’s over.”

“Dammit, Brit, you’re not listening to me!” Hunter yells, slamming his hand against the wall.

“Your actions are speaking loud and clear.” I lift my head, one final burst of determination carrying me forwards as I stare straight in his eyes. “If you can’t say it, then I will. It’s over. You don’t want me here. I don’t belong.”

I hurry away from him, tears already filling my eyes.

“Brit!” I hear him call after me, but I don’t slow. I race desperately back through the house, but I’m sobbing and turned around—the rooms circle back into each other, a never-ending labyrinth of polished floor-boards and velvet chaise. I find myself right back where I started, running head-long into Hunter’s solid body.

He grips my arms, holding me up. “You’re not leaving like this!”

I choke back my tears, hating the way his touch still affects me, the heat that sweeps through my body just to have him near. “Why can’t you let me go?” I cry.

Hunter’s eyes flash with conflict. “How many times do I have to tell you, this isn’t about you? This is my bullshit, Brit. I’m trying to protect you!”

“I don’t need protecting!” I shove him hard, and Hunter stumbles back, finally releasing me. A wave of grief sweeps through me, so deep I can barely stand.

When am I going to learn? There are some things girls like me don’t get to keep.

“I thought you were different.” I sob, wretched. “But you’re just like the rest of them.”

Hunter scowls. “Don’t put that on me!” He roars. “I’m telling you, but you won’t listen. You’re too blinded by the past to see things straight!”

“Me?” I reel back, “Look around, Hunter. If I’m blinded by the past, then you’re trapped by it! You’ll never be free from this, not until you realize it’s not your fault. But you won’t leave them, will you?” I sob, this time not for myself but for him. Because even in the depths of my pain and rejection, it still breaks my heart to see Hunter so tormented, trying to pay penance for sins that aren’t even his to carry. “You’ll waste your whole f**king life trying to make it right, but you never can.”

Pain flashes across his face, and for a moment, my rejection doesn’t matter. I want to go to him, hold him tight, tell him that he can be strong and brave and leave all of this guilt behind. I want to heal his scars with my kisses, and chase away the dark shadows in his eyes. He would let me, I know. He can feel my body calling to him, just the way I hunger for his.

But what happens come morning, in the harsh light of day?

He’s still the golden boy, and I’m no-one.

Nothing.

I force myself to take a step away from him, using every last drop of strength I can summon. “This was doomed from the start,” I whisper. “Goodbye.”

“Brit,” Hunter protests again, his voice hoarse and broken. His eyes are filled with pain. “Please.”

It’s a desperate request, but I can’t hold it together another second longer. I turn and flee, the pain overwhelming me, sobs wracking my body with rejection as my heart breaks clean apart and shatters into a million tiny pieces.

I find my way to the front hall and burst out of the door. I can’t breathe. The hurt is too bad, I can barely put one foot in front of the other as I stumble down the driveway to the truck. I wrench open the door and climb inside, blindly fumbling with the keys and ignition until the engine sparks to life and I speed towards the gates, the tires screeching.

I wipe the tears from my eyes long enough to look back through the rear-view mirror at the house. A figure appears on the front steps as I drive away: Hunter, staring after me, getting smaller with every passing second.

And then I turn the corner and he’s gone.

I fix my eyes on the road ahead, while my heart keeps on breaking.

I make it out of the house after her in time to see the truck speed away in a cloud of dust. I sink back against a column, gasping for air. It feels like Brit’s yanked my heart right out of my chest and taken it with her, like everything that matters to me in the world just up and walked away.

Fuck.

Fuck!

I charge back inside and up to my old room, grabbing my keys and a bag to leave. I can go after her, back to Beachwood. I can get through to her, I know it. I can make her see…

What? That she’s right about everything? That you’re trapped, and broken, and no better than every other man who’s ever made her cry?

The truth of her words cuts through my desperation, sending a fresh shard of guilt slamming straight to my heart.

I sink down onto the bed, and try to gather my thoughts. How could I have been such a fool?

I never meant to hurt her, but that didn’t stop me from doing it, all the same. God, I can’t imagine how she must have felt, showing up here and seeing the preparations for a party I never thought to invite her to. I figured I was sparing her another useless night of society bullshit, but to Brit, I’m no different to that scumbag I saw on my first night in town: acting like I’m ashamed of her, like she’s just some dirty little secret.

The truth is, she’s my everything.

And now she’s gone.

I fall back, so I’m laying flat out, staring at the ceiling. My heart feels like it just went ten rounds, raw and bruised, but that’s nothing compared with the crashing weight of shame as I realize all the ways I’ve f**ked this up.

I told her I’d never leave, and I did it anyway. She told me she loved me, and I broke her heart in two.

I can’t live without her.

Even when she was yelling and screaming at me, and I was so frustrated I couldn’t see straight, I needed her. Strong as water, true as air. I clench my eyes shut and picture her beautiful face, the depths of sad bitterness in those crystal clear eyes. My whole body is crying out for her, not just with lust, but something deeper, like our atoms are fused together now, a bond even distance can’t break.

I need to fix this. Fuck, how do I fix this?

How do you fix yourself?

I get up, my mind racing. I thought I was doing the right thing, coming home and shouldering whatever guilt and blame my parents wanted to throw on me, but everything Brit said was true. I’ll never be free. I can see it stretching out in front of me, years of parties and client meetings, mom’s guilt-trips and dad’s stoic disappointment. A suitable wife, a proper home. Everything I decided to leave behind.

My whole life, wasted, and for what?

To make amends for a past that can’t be undone? To honor the brother who would have kicked my ass to see me like this?

It’s no way to remember him, I realize. Forcing myself to live in Jace’s shadow won’t bring him back to us. Hell, if he was here right now, he would be telling me to get up off my dumb ass and take back the things I love: stop beating myself up, and build a life for myself, go out and take every moment of happiness that he doesn’t get to taste; love hard enough for the both of us, until my very last breath.

And God, he would knock me flat on the floor for messing things up with Brit.

I feel a smile on my face, for the first time in what seems like forever. I know now what I have to do. I can only hope to God I haven’t left it too late to make things right.