Tirade (Heven and Hell #3)(52)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too.” He straightened. “Now stand back. You need to go.”

I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stand here with my dad and just be with him. To see him and to talk to him. I just wanted his presence to fill me up.

“Thank you, sir,” Sam said, taking my hand.

“Watch out for my girl,” Dad said while a ball of light formed in his palm.

“Dad? Have you seen Mom?” I needed to know she was happy before I went home.

His eyes widened. “Why would I have seen your mother?”

My heart stopped. “She died…”

“What?” The light in his palm dimmed considerably. “She died?”

“Yes. Yesterday. You haven’t seen her?” He should have seen her. Her soul should be in heaven, at peace.

“I haven’t. I didn’t know…,” he murmured, not really looking at anything.

“Dad!” I cried, trying to capture his attention. “What’s happening? Why haven’t you seen Mom?”

He looked up at me, sadness in his eyes. Then he flinched and looked behind him. “You have to go. Remember what I told you.”

“Wait!” I cried.

But he didn’t listen. He threw the ball of light at us and everything went white.

*

I’m not sure where Dad was trying to send us, but we appeared a few blocks from Sam’s little efficiency. It was good enough for me. It was dark out and I wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed since I first went into hell. It seemed as if we were down there endlessly, but I knew it had been much shorter than that. When we rounded the corner there was a large clock outside a bank that told us it was only nine p.m. I glanced at Sam and he was looking around at everything, drinking in his first time in civilization for eight days. It suddenly hit me then that we made it. He was free and we were finally together and we were alone. He glanced at me, no doubt picking up on my thoughts and feelings as something shifted in the air between us. Both of us looked away and began walking.

The whole way back to his apartment, we didn’t touch. We hardly looked at each other again, except to steal glances out of the corner of our eyes when the other was trying not to look. All the muscles and nerves in my entire body were shaking, but not from what just happened. As terrible as it had been in hell, I didn’t think about it. All I could think about was Sam finally being here. I ached to touch him, but didn’t dare. Of all the days he was gone, I never once worried that things would be awkward between us. I never once thought that maybe things wouldn’t be the same.

Even now, I didn’t worry about that.

This was Sam. My Sam. The only boy I’d ever love. I went to hell and back with him and I could honestly say I would do it all over again.

But in small ways he was different. I wasn’t sure of all the ways yet, only sensing he wasn’t quite the same. I didn’t worry about that either because nothing would change things between us. Of this I was sure.

I focused on the next street over, the street where Sam’s apartment was. I clenched my hands at my sides and counted the breaths I took, all the while staring at Sam out of the corner of my eye. I knew he was fighting the same fight that I was and I knew he was just trying to get there. I picked up my pace to a full run. He seemed a little surprised, but he matched my pace with ease, not even breathing hard. Finally, the front door of the apartment came into view. Sam ran ahead and up the steps to the door, but then he stopped, his back going stiff.

I don’t have the key.

I came up the steps behind him. I do. I reached around him and held out the key. It seemed important that he let himself into his own place.

He took the key without even brushing his fingers against mine and quickly opened the door and went inside. I followed him, closing the door behind me and leaning against it. The room was dim because all the shades were drawn and it was cool because I turned the air unit on the last time I was here.

Sam turned around, his whiskey eyes deepening and focusing on me in such a singular way that the breath caught in my throat. It smells like you in here. His chest rose and fell with his deep breath.

I nodded while I pressed my palms flat against the door behind me. He stared at me for a few long, charged moments and then exactly what I knew would happen did. Exactly the reason we avoided touching each other until we were completely alone rushed to the surface.

We were like a pair of strong magnets, resisting was useless.

Sam rushed forward, his wide hands splaying against my ribs and lifting me off the ground. His touch seared me, set every cell in me on fire and turned my brain to mush. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist and hugged him hard, never intending to let go. I wasn’t ever letting go.

His hands found my face and he grasped it, held it firm as his lowered. The minute his lips touched mine I started to cry silent, fat tears that fell quietly from beneath closed lids. The relief of being where I belonged was so great I thought I might turn into a puddle. After spending so much time fighting, being strong and pushing away my emotions, it was overwhelming to finally be somewhere I could fall.

I don’t know how long he kissed me. Endlessly, blissfully, urgently.

Then he pulled back. Not away, but just enough to look at me. His image was a little blurry at first, but then it cleared and I could see all the emotions play on his face. My heart turned over.

He brushed the pad of his thumb over my cheek, then he frowned. I got you dirty.

I don’t care.

I need a shower.

My fingers dug into his back, twisting his T-shirt. I couldn’t let him go.

He carried me into the bathroom and turned on the shower and kicked the door shut. He didn’t put me down, but began kissing me again. There, in the center of the tiny bathroom, he stood, holding me in his arms and kissing me while the room filled with warm steam.

I’ll be fast. He promised before reluctantly sitting me beside the shower.

I didn’t shy away when he began stripping off his ripped, ruined shorts and white T-shirt. I stared down at them while he showered and imagined all the things he went through that I would probably never know about. He wouldn’t tell me. I wouldn’t ask. I would never ask him to relive that nightmare twice.

The shower shut off and his dripping, strong hand reached out from behind the curtain and grabbed the towel I hung there just for him. It occurred to me then that I should probably clean myself up too. I went to the sink and washed my hands and face and rinsed my mouth out with the mouthwash in the medicine cabinet. I was about to do something with my wild mass of hair when the shower curtain slid open. I turned and my heart began hammering in my chest.