Landon & Shay: Part Two (L&S Duet #2)(24)

Shay: I watched an interview of you and saw the fakeness in your smile. I don’t know what’s going on, Landon, but I can tell you’re hurting. You don’t have to be fake around me. If there is one person in this world that you can be real with, it’s me. I’ve seen your scars and they don’t scare me. Come back to me and fall apart. I’ll catch you. I’m here.





8





Shay





One Thursday afternoon in November, I stopped by the mailbox after my class to see if there was a letter from Landon. I checked way too often, even though I knew when the mail carrier delivered the letters.

Still, nothing.

As disappointment settled in my chest from even more silence, I started walking toward the townhouse and I paused when I saw a boy sitting on the front porch steps. My boy.

My heart leaped out of my chest as I hurried over to him. His shoulders were rounded forward, and his head was lowered as he stared down at his shoes. His long, brown hair was covering his face, wet and greasy looking.

“Landon…what are you doing here?” I asked, a million thoughts rocketing through my mind. What did it matter why he was there? All that I knew was I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold on so tight.

“I didn’t want to crumple like he said I would,” he murmured.

“What do you mean? Who said that?”

“My father. He said I’d crumple, and you’d be left to clean up my mess. I didn’t want that to be what happened, but I didn’t really know where else to go.” He looked up to me with raw emotion sitting in his stare. “Do you think I’m the reason he’s dead?” he asked me. Tears welled up in his eyes and began crusading down his face. “Did I kill my father?”

I shot to his side and sat down beside him as I wrapped my arms around him. He smelled heavily of whiskey and marijuana; two things I knew he hadn’t taken a part in in a very long time.

Oh, Landon.

Where have you gone, and how can I get you back?

“No, of course it wasn’t your fault. There is no possible way it was your fault.”

“Maybe he needed me to come work for him. Maybe he’d still be here if I gave him what he wanted.”

“Landon, you know that’s not true. Your father was sick…it had nothing to do with you.”

“Then why does it feel like it’s my fault like Lance was my fault?”

“Lance wasn’t your fault. None of this was your fault.” I saw it happening right before my eyes…him slipping back into his old dark thoughts.

He sniffled, and rubbed his hand beneath his nose, choking on his words. “I’m sorry, Shay. I’m fucked up,” he murmured. “I didn’t want you to see me like this but shit…” He ran his hand over his mouth repeatedly as more tears fell from his eyes. His whole body began to tremble as he lost himself on my front porch. Stoned, drunk, and broken.

“Come on,” I said, pulling him to his feet. I wrapped an arm around his waist and led him toward the townhouse. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit,” he drunkenly whispered, stumbling back and forth as I tried to keep him steady. “You shouldn’t have to deal with my fucking mess.”

“Shh,” I hushed him, knowing his mind was moving too fast to comprehend anything I would say to him in his current state. “Let’s just take a shower, okay?”

He nodded in agreement.

As I led him through the living room, Tracey looked up from the couch. “What’s going on?” Her eyes moved to Landon. “Is he drunk? It’s three in the afternoon,” she remarked. “On a Tuesday!”

“Not now, Tracey,” I said, walking toward the bathroom. The last thing I needed was her judgements. We entered the bathroom and I closed the door behind us, locking it. Landon leaned against the wall as I turned on the shower, making sure the water was warm enough.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Shay. I’m really sorry,” he kept repeating. I didn’t say anything back. I helped him slide out of his clothes and helped him into the shower.

“Come with?” he asked.

I undressed, too, and stepped into the steaming shower with him. The water raced over us, and I placed shampoo in my hands and began rubbing it in Landon’s hair. Then, soaped up his body as he swayed side to side, still completely out of it. My mind was playing games with me as the situation took hold, and I was having flashbacks to my past, feeling so much unease with it all.

“Mama, what are you doing?” I asked, walking past the bathroom where Dad was slumped over in the shower. “Is Daddy okay?” He didn’t look okay. His eyes weren’t open, and he swayed back and forth in the tub.

“He’s fine, Shay,” she said, hurrying me out of the bathroom. “Get back to bed. I’ll be there to tuck you in soon.”

I tried to shake the memories away, not wanting them to settle too much, but the situation was so fresh in my mind as I tended to Landon the same way Mom had my father.

An eerie feeling followed me as I led him to my room and lie him down on the bed. He kept apologizing as he faded to sleep, and I wrapped my arms around his body, unable to get any rest of my own. What had Landon been going through over the past few weeks? I’d seen him in the tabloids looking happy as ever, and he was doing a few interviews, smiling cheek to cheek. But, that wasn’t who I saw show up to my place that afternoon. The boy in front of me was broken, scarred, and bleeding out in pain from the demons of his mind.