Loving Me, Trusting You(46)

“A preacher's wife?” I ask her as I straighten my legs out and let my feet hit the water with a splash. The coolness washes over me, bringing a sigh to my lips. I bite it back, refusing to show Amy anything but my harshest side. I think about that damn video again, and I wonder how much it played a part in my fate. What would've happened if I hadn't sent it? I glance over at her and can't help the feeling that somehow, things would've ended up the same. I don't necessarily believe in fate, but sometimes shit is just meant to be. I roll my eyes at my own inner thoughts and Amy smiles wider.

“A person who thinks she should be one way, but might be happier if she let herself be another.”

“And what makes you the ultimate, f*cking authority?” I growl at her, scooting back, feeling my chest tighten with anger. This bitch is going to come down here, disturb the one freaking peaceful moment I've had in a long while, and then psychoanalyze me? Nuh uh. Not happening. “Listen here, sweetheart. You don't know me, so don't act like you're a freaking expert all of a sudden. I don't need your advice, and I sure as hell didn't ask for it.” I lean in close, but Amy doesn't flinch. She sits stone still and listens to my rant without the slightest hint of fear or anger in her blue eyes. “You don't know where I've been or where I come from or what's going on in my head.” Amy nods which surprises me into a brief second of silence.

“No, I don't. You're right. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't make judgments like that.” She pauses and reaches out a hand, placing her fingers on the back of mine. “But if you want to tell me, I'm here. You can say whatever you want, about anything you want, and I'll listen. I'm actually quite good at that.” She pauses again and this time, swallows nervously. “Even if it's about Austin, you can talk about it.” Amy stares at me with such a warm expression in her eyes that I don't know what to do or how to handle it. I don't have female friends. I just don't. And I definitely don't have heart to hearts either.

I stand up suddenly, my lace nightie billowing in the wind around my ankles, and open my mouth to speak.

I find that in reality, there's absolutely nothing that I can say.





I leave Amy at the pool with Beck and march up to my room, rapping my knuckles gently against the door and waiting for the sound of movement inside.

“It's me,” I say before Gaine gets the chance to ask. I let my fingers rest against the wood and try not to think too hard about the erratic thumping in my chest. Obviously, he's having an effect on me, maybe he always has and I just never noticed. I guess I might've taken him for granted all this time. I try to think back on my weakest moments, the moments where I needed someone the most. Did I run to Austin? Only for the little things. When it came down to it, when it really counted, it was Gaine I was spilling my soul to.

I step back and swallow my resolve, letting it slide down my throat like a dry lump. I'm cutting him off. Period. If I keep playing this game with him, things will change, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that.

“You have a nice swim?” he asks me, and there's no hint of anything in his voice but mild interest. I look up and find that he's not smiling, not gazing at me with affection. Guess he listened when I told him to back off. It's what I wanted, so I try to be happy about it, try to pretend that I don't feel anything in the air when I slip past him and move into the room.

Christy's asleep on top of the bed, curled up into a ball. This journey is going to tax every last ounce of strength from her. I hope she's willing to pay for it with all she's got.

I check the clock on the nightstand and decide that I don't have time to shower. Austin and Kimmi should be back soon and then we'll be moving out again, hopefully to someplace free of conflict. I run my hands down my face and breathe in the sharp scent of chlorine. I know I'm wishing for something that'll never happen. I might have made peace with my needs, but that doesn't mean Bested by Crows will go away or that this … war on women will stop. I can only hope it doesn't get bigger than this. I mean, I get that there's an antiquated consensus among some gangs about women being pledged members, and I've dealt with my fair share of half-assed insults and bullying, but I've never seen it get so serious. Bested is going to turn this into an all out war if we're not careful.

I move over to my suitcase and let my mind wander.

“Is it alright if I step out for a bit?” Gaine asks, surprising me. I turn my head and glance at him over my shoulder. He's staring at me with a carefully blank expression now, like there's a lot he could or would say if he had the chance. I don't give him one.

“Yeah, fine with me.” I pause, mouth open, and think about saying something else. But there is nothing to say. The best thing for me to do right now is to keep my distance from him. “But be careful, alright? The air might be settled, but it'll only take a gust of wind to stir it all up again.” Gaine nods and moves away, reaching for the door handle without another word. It doesn't feel right to let him go, but I don't have much of a choice. I have no control over him or what he does.

The door closes and cuts us off from one another, leaving me alone with whirling thoughts and curiosity that I can't satisfy. Where Gaine is going and what he does right now is none of my damn business.

I get dressed quickly and close up my bag, tossing it next to the door in anticipation of leaving early in the morning. There is no way in hell I could sleep right now.