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She stood there in silence, her eyes searching his face, and then she bit her lip before she stepped to the side, granting him access to her apartment.
He walked past her and into her living room, the nerves temporarily wi
“How did you know where I lived?”
Da
She sighed softly, laying her coat over a nearby chair before she motioned for him to sit down. Da
A few seconds later, he heard her come into the room, and he looked up as she curled into the chaise lounger next to him, her eyes on the hem of her sweatshirt as she twisted it between her fingers.
He took a deep breath before he shifted to face her, and her fingers stilled as she glanced up at him.
“Last night,” Da
Her eyes were still pi
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want you. I did. I wanted you so fucking bad. I still do.”
Leah’s eyes flashed up, her expression taken aback, and he felt his shoulders soften.
“Did you really think it was because I didn’t want you?”
She shrugged. “What else was I supposed to think?”
He exhaled heavily before dragging both hands down his face. “God, I’m an asshole,” he mumbled. “You have to understand something, Leah. You had just told me you hadn’t dated anyone, hadn’t been with anyone in two years, and then you wanted me. It didn’t matter how bad I wanted you. I couldn’t do it. Not before you knew the truth. You were making a decision without having all the information. I didn’t want you to regret being with me, and there’s a good chance that after you hear what I’m about to tell you, you would have. And I refuse to be another reason for you to doubt yourself.”
Da
He heard her shift slightly, and he turned his head to look at her.
“Just tell me,” she said softly.
Da
“Where are you going?”
Fuck. Just say it.
He swallowed around the knot in his throat as his eyes met hers. “Prison.”
She sat completely still for a few seconds before she closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips into her temples. She looked more confused than upset, although Da
“What did you do?” she said weakly.
Da
She dropped her hands as she opened her eyes. “What did you do?” she repeated more firmly.
He took a deep breath before he said, “Bryan isn’t dead.”
Her eyes flew to his; there was fury behind them, and he held up his hand quickly. “I didn’t lie, Leah. He’s alive because machines do everything for him. Pump his heart, make him breathe, give him food. His body is alive, but he’s gone. He’s been gone for a year. There’s no brain activity. There’s nothing left. It’s just that Gram can’t let him go, because she’s still hoping. But he’s gone.”
Leah stared at him, her eyes softening slightly before she shook her head. “What does that have to do with you going to prison?”
Da
“The night it happened, I was with him. We were hanging out at this bar in Manhattan, and Bryan kept ordering round after round of Alabama Slammers.” He smiled sadly before he said, “That was his shot. He’d always start the night off with one, but that night he just kept going. And I went right along with him.
“At some point during the night, these three guys came up to us. We had no clue who they were, but apparently they knew this girl that Bryan used to mess around with. So the one guy started with Bryan, talking about how he was go
Da
She nodded gently, and he said, “By the time the bar was closing, we were both pretty fucked up, and I went to the bathroom—” He stopped suddenly, his jaw flexing in rapid succession as he rode out the sharp pain in his chest.
Da
He glanced up at Leah; she was staring at him with equal parts sympathy and dread, like she knew where this story was going. And even though he knew that she didn’t, he grabbed on to the small thread of compassion she’d thrown him and pulled himself through the rest of the story.
“He couldn’t hold his own,” he said hoarsely. “Bryan was wasted, and there were three of them. And I had to get through that goddamn crowd.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I could see everything, but I couldn’t get there fast enough. Bryan got hit and went down, and one of the guys kicked him hard in the side of the head. Right in his temple.”
He saw Leah press her fist to her mouth as she shook her head slightly.
“And I lost it,” he said. “I charged the guy, and we went over a table and through the front window of the bar.” He looked down and flexed his hand, watching his scars expand and contract with the movement. “I don’t remember a lot after that. I remember hitting the ground outside. And the broken glass. And the blood all over my hands. I had no idea where it was coming from.”
He looked up at her; her fist was still pressed against her lips, but her eyes were welled with tears. “And the next thing I knew, I was being thrown over the hood of a cop car and cuffed. They were reading me my rights, telling me to remain silent, and I just kept shouting at them to go help Bryan.”