Come to Me Quietly (Closer to You #1)(47)
Author: A.L. Jackson

“Come on, this way,” Christopher commanded. He pointed to the right, then tightened his hold on my hand as he took off at a jog into the darkness that ran behind a strip mall that had long since been closed down for the night.

My hold tightened on Jared’s hand as I dragged him behind me. I refused to let him go.

Christopher wound us back around the long way. The approaching storm pressed in from above. Energy crackled through the clouds and sped along the ground. Lightning flashed, and I stole a furtive glance over my shoulder at Jared. He kept his face hidden as he trained his eyes on his feet, his hand almost limp where it burned against mine.

I wanted to stop, to take his face in my hands, to beg him to tell me he was okay. Instead I struggled to keep up with Christopher, who raced ahead. Desperate, I squeezed Jared’s hand as I tugged him harder, hoping he would at least understand my worry. His touch remained unresponsive.

We slowed our pace as we rounded the corner and slinked around to the front of the buildings. “Just play it cool, Aly,” Christopher warned.

We hit the sidewalk, the dull streetlamps lighting our way as they blinked through the haze of the storm. Jared removed his hand from mine and dropped back two feet, and I walked hand in hand with Christopher, nestled up against his side with my head held low, as we approached the bar parking lot.

We’d come full circle.

Three cop cars sat in the middle of the lot. Red and blue lights flashed. No one even noticed us as we drew near. All attention seemed focused on the mayhem that was undoubtedly still taking place inside.

Silently, we slipped up to my car that sat in near darkness, dim lamps from the front of the bar casting shadows across the lot. I clicked the door locks on my fob, and we slid into our seats, Christopher in the front and Jared directly behind me in the back.

We said nothing, just let the tension stretch between us as I fumbled with the keys to start the ignition. Finally I found the slot and turned over the engine. Shaking, I backed out, put the car in gear, and slowly eased out onto the street.

In silence we waited for something… for someone to follow… for some consequence to come. Warily, I glanced up in the rearview mirror to the empty street behind us. No one followed. My eyes wandered to find Jared’s head hung how, his face buried in his bloodied hands.

Christopher turned fully in his seat and searched the distance. Then he cracked up. “Holy shit, man.” His smile was wide and sloppy when he looked at Jared, his buzz making a resurgence as he slapped Jared on the knee. “That was f**king awesome. You beat the shit out of that ass**le. The second he said something about Aly, I knew you were going to lose it.” He laughed as he rushed a hand through his disheveled hair. “You were always that way… sticking up for her. Shit… I bet you’d kick my ass if I said something bad about her.”

He slanted a grin at me, then turned it on Jared. “You’re like some kind of avenging angel, or some shit. Who knows what would have happened if you didn’t step in tonight? Either my ass would have ended up in jail or I’d be the one in that ass**le’s place. Dude was huge.” He laughed, glib, making light of whatever had occurred back at the bar. Christopher was oblivious of Jared’s misery, to the restlessness that twitched through his muscles, to the anxiety silencing his tongue.

Christopher turned up the radio and sang along to some terrible pop song, his voice raised and completely out of key. Leave it to my brother to completely miss what was really going on.

I turned at the gate to our complex. Again I lifted my face to search Jared’s in the mirror. I could feel it, him warring with whatever he’d been stricken by as he sat silently in my backseat. Punishing himself for his actions.

The protecting, I understood. One hundred percent. I would never criticize him for that. And maybe it was just the two of us who recognized it; the two of us that had felt his seething burn, the loss of control.

It scared me, and I knew it scared him, too.

Catching his eye in the mirror, I tried to convey that I understood. Ashamed, he dropped his gaze.

I pulled into my parking spot and cut the engine. Christopher and I climbed out of the car. It felt like an entire minute passed before the back door finally unlatched, resting ajar on the jamb. With his hand on the handle, Jared seemed to hesitate before he finally pushed open the door. When Jared slowly rose from the car, Christopher clapped him on the shoulder before he turned to head toward the apartment. Jared said nothing while the two of us made our way up the stairs. Walking a couple of steps ahead of him, I kept glancing back, searching for something. Jared gave me no response. And again I was silently pleading with him not to go.

All I wanted was for him to stay.

We entered into the sanctuary of the apartment, and I found myself wishing we’d never left it.

Christopher was in the kitchen, loud as he rummaged through the refrigerator on a mission to find something to eat. Just inside the door, I stopped. Exhaustion suddenly weighed down my arms, while adrenaline still knotted my stomach. It left me agitated and unsure.

Jared brushed by me and started toward the hall. Guarded, he paused and looked back on me with something that appeared to be an apology, before he disappeared into the bathroom. The door quietly snapped closed behind him, the click of the lock shutting me out.

I retreated into my room, calling, “Good night,” behind me.

It was an invitation. Please come.

I changed from my jeans and T-shirt into pajama pants and a tank, twisted my hair up into a messy tie. Sitting back on my bed, I leaned over and pulled my sketch pad from the floor and onto my lap. I turned to the last page I’d been working on, let my mind drift as I freed my hand.

Thunder rumbled overhead, shook the walls as the wind barreled and whistled through the trees.

The pencil rushed over the page, shading the perfect planes of his face, darkening his eyes because in them there was so much pain. Every time I thought maybe we were ebbing the pain away, it was only exposed how much deeper it went.

Outside my room, I listened to water running in the bathroom. I pictured him hunched over the sink as he tried to wash the night from his consciousness. Blood dripping from his knuckles, swirling through the water, tinting it pink before it vanished down the drain. But I knew even though he was erasing the physical traces of the fight, Jared would hang on to this as another scar.

I kept stealing glances at my door, willing him to come.

To come to me.

To love me the way he had done last night.

Or maybe just lie with me, hold on to me while I held on to him.