Loving Me, Trusting You(55)

Amy smiles at me, and I feel a little surge of disappointment. Maybe I could've made peace with her and her stupid friend, too. I feel like I could, like I'm at a point in my life where it would be okay. I glance back at Kimmi, too. It would've been nice to have some female friends in my life. I spend all this time defending women and trying to protect their rights, but I don't ever actually hang out with any. It's kind of pathetic.

“This is a big decision, and I see where you're coming from.” She moves forward and reaches out a hand to touch mine. I look at it, but I don't smile back. I can't. If I move my face at all, I'll cry, and I've done way too f*cking much of that lately. I haven't sobbed in years, and I'm paying for it. All of the past pain is coming back, breaking through my dam and drowning me. “Some decisions we make; others are made for us. You might think this is a little of both, but it's not. This is all you. You have choices.”

I stare at her for a moment before a scowl hits my face like a train, knocking me back with a surge of anger.

“Bullshit!” I scream at her, feeling my facade of calm slip away. It's always been pretend. I don't know how to act, how to behave, how to feel things. All I know how to do is get angry. That's it. I'm a f*cked up eighteen year old girl inside, one with scars so deep they cut straight through to her heart. I can't pretend anymore. I'm done pretending. “I don't have any choice! I can't see the people I love get hurt, and I can't charge myself with anymore dirty deeds. I am f*cking broke!” I hit my fist into the wall and spin before Gaine can come up behind me. “I made my decision and I'm sticking to it. I'll say my goodbyes tonight, and I'm leaving in the morning. If you don't like it, too damn bad. This is the way things have to be.”

I turn and grab the handle to my room, moving through it as Amy calls out behind me.

“Sleep on it,” she asks, and I pause. “Sleep on it and let's talk about it again tomorrow.” Gaine moves forward and I step back, turning to throw him a wet glare, the muscles in my face taut from forcing the tears to stay back. He moves into the room but doesn't touch me, just goes into the bathroom and slams the door. “We can go to the beach and look at the ocean. That always changes things. Do that and then decide,” she whispers as I start to close the door. I don't want to hear it anymore. I'm not going to change my mind. They need to accept that. The sooner they do, the easier this will be. “And Mireya,” she says before I get a chance to block her out completely. I look at Amy's heart shaped face, at her moist eyes, and I see that she doesn't want me to go. I don't know why. I've been nothing but rude to her. “About Gaine, you said you didn't want to love him. Think about that. How can you not want to do something you've never done?” And then she winks at me and the door slams shut in her face.





I feel like a train's hit me, like I'm never going to be able to stand up again. I'm paralyzed, frozen in place, blinded with fear and frustration. I can't make Mireya stay, that's true. But there is no way in hell I can let her go. Do I follow after her? Do I ride my bike like a damn stalker and chase her around the country? If I did that, she'd never let me live it down. My chance at her heart would go from slim to impossible.

“Are you going to tell me or not?” she asks a few hours after her initial confession. I'm lying on the bed with my hands clasped behind my head, eyes closed. I've been here most of the day. Everyone else has come and gone, enjoying the new bounty of money that's been sprung onto the group. I don't know how much it is, but Austin's been pretty generous with it. Still, Mireya and I end up sharing a room when we don't have to. She could've walked out and gotten another at any moment, and she hasn't. I try to see that as positive.

“Tell you what?” I ask, and I don't like how angry my voice sounds. That's not what I want her to see. I can't control her with rage and a bad temper. She has to stay because she wants to. Anything else just won't work.

I open my eyes and look at her face. It's softer than usual. Her saucy lips are tilted down in the corners and her sharp eyes are open wide, looking at me like she's never seen me before. Or maybe more like she's never going to see me again. I absorb her into my system, staring at the fall of dark hair around her shoulders, the straight ebony blackness that ends in a gentle wave. Her body is just perfect, like a goddess descended from Mt. Olympus. It's round in all the right places, full, ripe. I doubt Mireya would ever be interested in having kids, but she's got the right body for it, solid hips and the softest f*cking breasts.

I don't try to hide my erection from her.

“What you lied to me about.” I laugh, but I don't mean to. It just comes out, nervous and shaky. As soon as I tell her about that girl, I'm sealing her ticket out of here. I may as well pack her bags now. I sigh and run my hands down my face as I sit up. I've got to come up with a solution, an atypical one, something that she'll never suspect because I'm pretty damn positive that she already has a retort ready for every protest in the book.

“Mireya, take my bike.” I look up at her as she wrinkles her nose. The softness is getting erased already, and I've only just seen it. I lock the image in my mind and promise I won't forget it for the rest of my life. “It's better than that piece of shit you just bought. If you're going to go, I'd feel a lot better if you took my baby with you.” I try to smile, but it doesn't come across right.