He retreats, lifting his hands, and then he’s gone, leaving the doorway empty, my escape route free.
I have a sudden, strange yearning to call him back, tell him why I’m acting this way. Antisocial by default, made worse by past events. Retreating into my shell when people are around. Hiding.
A yearning to tell him where my terrors crawl out from, where they are born, in that black pit of the past on which I tried to put a lid and failed.
But I can’t. I can’t open up, lay myself wide to anyone, much less him. Someone I don’t know, someone who’s so beautiful and arrogant he scares me to death. Truth is, I don’t do people. I don’t get close. Di
stance is necessary for safety.
Experience tells me not to give away anything, not even a shred of myself, or they’ll tear me apart. Not to let anyone in or they’ll eat me up from the inside and spit me out where everyone can see.
So I wrap myself up in my past, the memories I tried to bury for so long and failed, and sit down on the closed toilet lid. Damn, they’re still inside of me, pieces of me, mind scars, fear grooves running straight to my nightmares.
Get yourself together, Amber. You’re free. The bullies aren’t here. It’s been a while. They wouldn’t even know you if they saw you. And you know how to defend yourself now.
Okay. There’s a stitch in my side, as if I’ve been running. I suck in a deep breath and almost choke on it. All right. I can do this.
I’m stronger than this. I’ve fought it and beat it once before. I can do it again. So I sit and struggle to calm my pounding pulse and erratic breathing, try to calm my mind before I go out there and face the world once more.
Chapter Four
Jesse
The one chance I got to talk to Amber, and I scared the shit out of her.
Great job, J. No idea how I frightened her, but it’s left a sour taste in my mouth and no frigging clue why I care. Girl only just arrived to town, never missed a chance to tell me off and make clear she doesn’t want me around, and I just can’t keep away from her.
Goddammit.
I’ve been out of sorts since the party. I can’t stop thinking of her, and now I have a pissed-off Micah on my back, unhappy because he told me to leave her alone and I didn’t. But hey, she ran off to the restroom, and she looked pale. What’s a guy to do but check on her, right? God knows I’ve seen my fair share of breakdowns and panic attacks. Just wanted to make sure she was okay.
And, fine, I was hoping she’d stop glaring at me for a change. It’s getting to me, turning me inside out. Ridiculous, I know. Stupid. I barely know her. But it’s somehow important to me.
Besides, Micah should know that’s how I am. Worrying at the bone, poking at the snake to see if it will bite. Scratching at the scabs to see if they’ll bleed. Trying to figure life out.
Hasn’t worked out too well so far. At least not where people are concerned. The only ones who’ve stuck around are Zane and his gang, and if you asked me, I wouldn’t know to tell you why. Doesn’t make a lick of sense to me why they’d want me around.
My concentration isn’t the only thing I lost at that party. My leather wrist band is gone, too, and I’m pretty sure I wore it there. That band’s important to me. This sucks.
I go back to work, an itch between my shoulder blades. When I bring the drinks to the guys’ table, Amber’s there, talking quietly to Evangeline, and I let my glance bounce off her. Ocean and Cassie are giving me intense looks I can’t decipher—at least Ocean’s, ’cuz I know Cassie wants in my pants—and I grin at them, pulling the mask back down over my face.
Thanks to Zane and Rafe, I’m learning a craft I love, I have a place to crash, and now I got this second job through Megan. I know I’m damn lucky to be here, and I won’t fuck it up, I swear it to any god who might listen. Hell, I swore it to Helen.
I’ll stay away from Amber and keep the smile on my face every day, even if it kills me. Nobody ever wants a sullen, whiny brat around.
“Here you go, guys.” I put the cups on the table with a flourish, wink at Cassie who winks right back—see? Some people are easy to please—and avoid Micah’s heavy stare. “Anything else you need?”
“Sit, have coffee with us,” Ev chirps, and I give her a genuine smile, because she’s so nice when she has no particular reason to like me—apart from the fact I work with her boyfriend at Damage Control.
“No can do, sweets, sorry. Gotta work.”
“When do you get off work?”
I keep the smile firmly on. “In an hour.”
“In an hour, then. We’ll still be here.”
“Right.” I lift a hand, rub the back of my neck. “Fact is, I really need to run afterward. Gotta work.”