Home > Dangerous Boys(54)

Dangerous Boys(54)
Author: Abigail Haas

I tried to think if I was missing anything, what more I could have done. ‘I packed a file of important papers in your luggage,’ I added, remembering the folder of insurance documents and bank details. ‘Give them to Carol, she’ll know what to do.’

Mom’s eyes filled with tears. I hadn’t told her what was really happening, that when Carol called to find out where I was, I would already be gone. But she knew, this was an ending, I could see it in her expression.

‘I’m sorry, sweetheart,’ she whispered, hugging me tight. ‘I tried, I really did.’

‘I know.’ My voice cracked, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and the lavender lotion she always liked to use. ‘Me too.’

I watched her join the line for security, her steps hesitant and slow. A guard patiently showed her how to put her things in the bin for the scanner and step through the metal detector.

She would be OK, I told myself. People would be kind to her, kinder than I could manage, and perhaps she would get better because she had to now. She had no other choice and, as I’d discovered these past months, necessity could drive you to things that seemed impossible, once upon a time.

She turned back, her eyes catching mine for a moment. I felt a deep ache cut through my chest at the plaintive look in her eyes. It wasn’t too late, I could run to her, take her home again, and keep her safe, just the two of us. I could get another ticket and go with her, just as we’d planned; find a way to start fresh somewhere else, together.

It was a wild longing, a child’s futile wish, but even as the thoughts whirled through my mind, I felt something rise up in me, resistant and cold.

I was close, so close to being free. Being with Oliver. This was my escape.

I deserved this.

So I walked away from her, out of the airport buildings and back to my car. I sat there, waiting, until her flight took off, then made the drive to Haverford one final time. As the harsh winter landscape sped past my windows, that resistance became a chorus, humming inside me like an anthem.

You’re better than this. You always have been.

I was so close.

I was twenty miles outside Haverford when my phone rang. I glanced over, expecting another message from Ethan, but it was a different number this time. Oliver.

My pulse kicked as I answered, keeping one eye out for Blake or one of the deputies, bored on the side of the road and eager to ticket. ‘Hey, I just dropped her off.’

‘Good.’ Oliver’s voice was even. ‘Swing by the lake house on your way back. There’s something I want to show you.’

‘How mysterious,’ I teased. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Let’s just say I have a surprise. A way to send this town out with a bang.’

I smiled. ‘I’m on my way.’

I hung up and took the turning that would lead me out past the lake to the site. As I rounded the curve, I saw lights flickering in the far house, so I pulled up in the dark drive beside Oliver’s car and turned off the engine.

‘Hello?’ I called, pushing the open door. The electricity was off, but inside I found candles flickering on the edge of the stairs. Night-lights were set in a path, leading upstairs. I followed them, my curiosity building. In the hallway, I found another trail of candles and a scattering of rose petals on the floor, leading to the master suite.

I pushed open the door. ‘Oliver? What’s going on?’

The room was lit up with dozens more candles, flickering from every window ledge and mantel. There was a blanket on the floor; sultry music playing from his phone on low.

‘What, you don’t like it?’ Oliver strolled out of the shadows. He had a bottle of something in his hand, and a wry expression on his face as he gestured around the room. ‘I thought we could celebrate your newfound freedom.’

I blinked. Oliver wasn’t the type for big gestures, but the room was set up like a scene from a movie: the perfect romantic hideaway.

‘What’s really going on?’ I regarded him carefully. ‘This, flowers and candles? This is so not you.’

He grinned. ‘You know me well. No, I thought I’d see how the other half lives. Try a little Hallmark sentimentality. What do you think, darling? Doesn’t it make you want to move to a nice house in the suburbs, get ourselves a couple of rugrats and a dog?’

Oliver pulled out a knife – Ethan’s hunting knife, I recognized — and used it to lever the cork from the bottle. It came free with a hollow ‘pop’, and foam flooded over Oliver’s wrist. ‘Damn,’ he cursed, but I laughed, and lifted his arm to my mouth to lick it off.

‘Champagne?’ I raised an eyebrow.

‘Only the best for you, my dear.’ Oliver took a long swig. ‘After all, it’s the first day of the rest of our lives.’

‘Start as you mean to go on,’ I quipped in response, taking the bottle from him.

‘Carpe diem.’

I drank long, feeling the effervescence of the bubbles shimmer through my bloodstream.

I felt reckless, and golden, and bright. Oliver was joking with his trite sayings, but they were true. This was my beginning, and I felt reborn, fresh from the shadows of the past year.

‘Thank you.’ My voice was quiet. Oliver looked up. ‘For . . . everything. Not just . . . ’ I paused, trying to explain what he’d done for me, but failing all the same. I shrug. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you.’

Oliver tilted his head, and the smile he gave me was one I’d never seen before: quieter, and sincere. Almost sad.

‘It’s my pleasure,’ he said softly, reaching to stroke my cheek. ‘All this time . . . I never thought I’d find someone like you.’

His eyes were dark, but I recognized the expression there. To be seen, and truly understood; we both had found that in each other. No need to hide the sharp edges and smooth ourselves down, play-acting at being just the same as everyone else.

We were different, in all the same ways.

I reached for him, kissing him hard until I was breathless. We tumbled to the blanket, lips and hands and gasping breaths. This was what it felt like to truly lose myself in someone for the first time, to be more than myself, gone. I poured myself into him, in every kiss and touch, giddy with the possibility of tomorrow.

I didn’t hear the car pull into the drive outside, or the door pushed open. I didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs until it was too late. I didn’t have time to do anything but pull away from Oliver and see him there in the doorway, staring at us in furious disbelief.

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