Dear Tori Page 15

  Was it? I’m not entirely convinced of that, but despite my doubts, I’m feeling oddly optimistic at the moment.

  Me: I love you

  I feel just as warm, glowing and sure typing those words now as I did saying them out loud last night. I don’t know if I’m remembering the way I used to love him, or I’ve fallen in love with him again, but in either case, I can’t deny it anymore. I love Noah Stone.

  Noah: I was afraid that was the whiskey talking last night, and I love you too

  Me: I wasn’t that drunk

  Noah sends me a picture of a tipsy, cartoon skunk that makes me laugh. Then we say goodbye and promise to talk later.

  I can’t lie to myself and say the thought that he might be having a baby with another woman isn’t still weighing on me, or my doubts that Noah could really love the new me, but I can’t deny the way I feel anymore.

  A little after noon I have Maggie follow me out towards town in her van. If Christian really doesn’t want me to return this stupid car he bought me, I’m going to sell it and use the money to go towards this past due loan.

  I’m glad to have Maggie there with me to negotiate the transaction, although I think I manage to hide my disability with numbers well enough.

  I hate having to depend on people around me for help with such trivial and simple tasks, and I can’t ever remember not needing that help. My earliest memories before the accident were from when I was twelve years old, when I was still too young to be truly independent.

  I’ve opened up to Noah about the issues I have now. I don’t want to hide anything from him, but I wonder if he’s really ever sat down and thought it through. I would be a burden to him, the same way I am to everyone else around me now.

  As we drive out towards the bank, I stare out the window at the familiar storefronts blurring by. So much of this place is the same as I remember, but plenty has changed. I try not to dwell on things too much, but it happens anyway.

  I can’t deny that Noah still has feelings for me, but that might not be enough. When the reality of a life with me sets in, will his feelings for me change?

  Maggie parks the car outside the bank. Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to go in there just yet,” she says quietly.

  “It’s okay. I can do it.” I have all the paperwork for the loan. An employee can help me fill something out if need be.

  The interior of the bank has all been redecorated from the last time I visited many years ago. Everything is cheerful light green, yellow, and pale wood grain. My shoes squeak across the tile floor.

  I try so hard not to think about it, but I can’t help but wonder where exactly he died. Was it right here in this very spot where I’m standing and patiently waiting for the clerk to finish typing something?

  The girl behind the counter looks up and smiles. She has dark hair, and bright hazel eyes lined in lots of mascara. “Hi, Tori.”

  Her name tag says Megan, and I’m shocked to realize I vaguely remember her. “I think we went to school together, didn’t we?”

  She laughs. “Only since kindergarten.”

  I force a laugh of my own. I guess I’m only remembering her from before.

  No matter how much time passes, I still have this naive wish that one day all my old memories will return and I’ll be instantly fixed, like a fairy waving a magic wand, or a genie from a lamp granting a wish. Real life doesn’t work that way though. Traumatic brain injuries as severe as mine don’t instantly mend out of the blue.

  Megan is friendly and kind enough to help me fill out the deposit slip without a big fuss. “I’m sorry about your dad,” she says quietly, handing me a receipt for my payment. “That was a real shame. He always seemed like such a nice man.”

  I almost want to ask if she was here the day it happened, but the words get stuck in my throat. I manage a nod, and mutter a hushed thanks, but I can’t help but notice her eyes falling on a spot behind my shoulder.

  Somehow I know it happened right there, and I have this overwhelming urge to go over, touch the specific tile. It’s stupid, and of course I’m not going to do that. I thank Megan, and start towards the glass doors at the front.

  A familiar figure emerges from an office over to the side and plants himself in my path.

  “I thought that was you,” Christian says.

  “Are you working here now?”

  He shakes his head down at me. “I’ve been stopping in since I’m in town. You know I like to stay busy.”

  “That’s nice.” I start to move around him, but he blocks my path.

  “Have you given any more thought to my proposal?”

  I glance back over my shoulder towards Megan, then stare back up at Christian. “I just made a payment to start bringing the loan current if that answers your question.”

  Christian crosses his arms in front of his chest and sighs. “I thought you were smarter than this.”

  Was he always such a weird control freak? Maybe so, but I never offered too much resistance when we were together. I was content to let him call most of the shots. The only thing I ever really put my foot down about was my job that I refused to quit, and he pestered me about that constantly. “Well, it was nice seeing you again,” I say coolly. “Good luck finding a baby mama, but like I already told you, I’m not interested.”

  Christian gives me a deep scowl as I shoulder past him. I have the receipt for the payment I just made clutched tightly in my fist as I scurry to the van. The last thing I need is that psycho messing with my account somehow, doing something in the computer to make it look like I’m not taking strides to rectify the past due amount.

  If he could make the debt disappear, there’s no telling what else he can do to make my life even more miserable.

  Later that evening, after the afternoon chores are complete, I head back out in Dad’s old pickup truck, which I’ll be driving now. I want to return Noah’s bike helmet, and we need to discuss these plans for the farm, but really I just want to see him again.

  When I knock on his door, Lola barks and scratches from the other side. I hear Noah chastise her quietly, then the door swings open.

  My mouth gapes as I take in the sight of his bruised eye that is nearly swollen shut, his bottom lip that is busted and caked with dried blood. “Oh, my god. What happened to you?”

  Noah doesn’t answer right away. He fans an arm out for me to come in, and I see he’s holding a damp, white washcloth that’s stained pink at one corner. It looks like he just got here and he’s trying to get himself cleaned up.

  “Who did this to you?” I ask, taking the washcloth from him, and dabbing gently.

  “It’s not that bad. It looks worse than it is.”

  “Did you get in a fight?”

  “Something like that,” he says cryptically.

  I freeze. “It wasn’t Christian, was it?” Even as the words leave my mouth, I hear how foolish they sound. I can’t imagine Christian being able to inflict this sort of damage on Noah.

  Shaking his head, Noah chuckles, and winces as the expression causes the gash on his lip to split back open. I drop his scuffed helmet on the counter, and have him sit down so I can make up a quick ice pack for his eye. “What were you fighting with someone about?” I ask, trying to keep the strain out of my voice as I hand him the ice pack and a beer.

  Noah collapses on the couch. Lola meanders over, and lays her head across his lap. “Is there any chance we can not talk about this, and pretend like it never happened?”

  “Why don’t you want to tell me who did this to you?”

  “Because I’m embarrassed.”

  “You shouldn’t feel ashamed because someone beat you up.”

  Noah laughs again, and grimaces as fresh blood seeps from the wound on his lip. “I gotta a few good hits in too, but if I had any idea who he was, I probably would’ve stood there and let him beat the shit out of me.”

  “Huh? Who was it?”

  Noah sighs. “Natalie’s husban
d.”

  My hand holding the washcloth freezes in mid air. “You were fooling around with a married woman?”

  “I swear to god I had no idea she was married.”

  “After all that time how could you not know?”

  Noah shrugs. “She didn’t wear a wedding ring, and she never told me she was married.”

  My eyes scour over his face, searching for the truth. I want to trust Noah, but sometimes I don’t know what to believe. He said the first time we kissed, he knew I had a boyfriend. The first time I remember kissing him, when I still thought his name was Buck, he knew I was engaged. I’m starting to wonder if Noah simply has a very lax view on monogamy.

  “Babe, don’t look at me like that.”

  “Everytime I start to feel like I know you… Is this the sort of thing you do all the time?”

  “No!”

  “I don’t know what to think right now.”

  “Can you please try and not make me feel any worse about this than I already do? The guy is in the military. He comes back from deployment to find out his wife is pregnant with some other guy’s kid. It’s shitty. The whole thing is a really shitty, and I feel like shit for being involved. I didn’t ask to be in the middle of this, Tori. If I had any clue she was married, I would’ve never laid a finger on her.”

  I stare directly into Noah’s soft, brown eye. Just the one, since the other is swollen shut. “I want to believe you.”

  “So, believe me.”

  “It’s not that easy,” I say, my thoughts spinning a million miles a minute. Noah has freely admitted to getting into some trouble, and avoiding getting caught for other trouble. On several occasions we’ve run into women that knew Noah, and judging by the spiteful, jealous looks they threw me, knew him well.

  Apparently my dad hated him, and I’m beginning to think he had good cause. Maybe my dad, who sacrificed everything for me, was only trying to protect me. For all I know, there are even worse things about Noah that I can’t remember.

  It’s easy to forget that I’ve only known the man seated across from me a month. When we touch, I feel so connected to him and grounded in the present. When we kiss, everything around me freezes. Time stands still. I’m caught in a bubble where the past and future don’t matter.

  But that’s all silliness. It’s lust, not love. How can I be this old and not know the difference? “I’m starting to think I may have come back into your life at a bad time,” I say, standing to leave.

  The corners of Noah’s mouth turn down, and a pained expression washes over his face. “Tori, don’t go.”

  “You have things you need to take care of, and so do I.” I’m not mad like when we last discussed the possibility that he might be a father. Right now I’m only weary and gutted. “It’s just a bad time,” I repeat, retreating to the door.

  He hops up and strides fast to put himself between me and the exit. “Is this your answer to everything now? Just walk away as soon as it gets hard.”

  “Noah, I’ve only known you a month. The things you’re asking me to see past… It’s too much.”

  “I waited too damn long to get you back for this to all fall apart again.”

  “I know it’s not the case for you, but can you at least pretend that we’ve only been dating a month? Is it possible for you to see things from my side?”

  “Last night you said you loved me.”

  “I do, but… I’m afraid you’re going to make me regret it.”

  “So it’s easier to run away than to face the possibility that I might hurt you in the future?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out what kind of man you are.”

  “Okay. Then give me a chance to show you. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, Tori. I’m just asking that you judge me by what I’ve done since you came back. Let me prove who I am now.”

  God, I want to believe him. I want to trust him, but I also need him to understand what he’s getting himself into. “Have you ever considered that me walking out that door and never coming back might be the best thing for you?”

  “Not for one second.”

  “I’m a mess now, Noah.”

  Smiling, he makes a motion towards his face. “In case you missed it, I’m a bit of a mess myself.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “So am I.” He shrugs his shoulders, and slides his fingers through my hair. “We’re both a mess in our own way but no one’s perfect. It doesn’t mean we can’t be good together, and good for each other.”

  He rubs the tip of his nose against mine, giving me an eskimo kiss. A real kiss would only stain my lips with his blood.

  Chapter Twenty

  Noah

  Trevor lives way out in the boonies, at the end of a rutted dirt road. His double wide looks like a run down piece of shit from the outside, but inside it’s decked out with every luxury. I haven’t stopped in for a visit in a while, so I take a long look around the ludicrous interior after he invites me in.

  I’m not sure if there is a name for this decor theme, tacky, pimp-wannabe, drug dealer meets hillbilly millionaire? He has a huge leather sectional couch in a camo print situated in front of a giant TV that spans one wall. There’s a freaking crystal chandelier, but the ceiling is so low I have to duck to avoid walking into it.

  “Looks like you’ve done some redecorating.”

  Trevor grins proudly. “Yeah, but I’m runnin’ out of space. I would love to build an actual house, but you know how that goes.”

  I nod. I don’t know personally, but I grew up in and around enough shit to understand it was dangerous to buy up land, properties, or cars with dirty money.

  “You sure about this?” Trevor asks.

  Nope. Not at all. Agreeing to do work for Trevor is one thing. Taking a huge loan from him that I’ll be expected to work off over time is something else. “I’m not killing anyone,” I state firmly.

  My cousin huffs and rolls his eyes. “Jesus. I’m not a fucking mobster.” He stares down at his nails. “You’ll still wanna take a side piece along to some of these places, but that’s more for your own protection. If you need one, I can hook you up.”

  I nod grimly.

  Sandy, Stacey or something that starts with an S wanders out to greet us in nothing but a snug T-shirt and panties. She gives me a vacant, lost look.

  “You remember Stephanie, dontcha?” Trevor asks.

  She looks thinner than I remember and strung out. I nod again and say hello. Stephanie mumbles something my way that I can’t make out.

  God, Trevor is a piece of shit, and everything he touches turns to shit. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but it’ll all be worth it in the end. I’m doing it for Tori, I remind myself. That’s the only reason I agreed to this nonsense.

  I’m doing it to try and put things right, because even if she doesn’t remember the way things happened that night, it’s seared into my fucking brain forever.

  This isn’t just about making amends though. It’s a first step in securing a future for us. Tori is the only woman I’ve ever wanted a future with, and seeing her smile makes me smile. I want to make her smile every day for the rest of my life, and that life can start for real just as soon as I pay off this debt to Trevor. It shouldn’t take more than three or four months. I’ve just got to be smart, and careful. I can’t take any unnecessary risks or chances.

  Trevor gives me a gun. It’s been a long time since I’ve held one in my hand, and I hate the weight of it, the cold feel against my palm. “So, what the hell happened to you?” he asks about my face.

  “Don’t worry. The other guy looks worse,” I say with a note of false pride. I don’t want to explain to Trevor, and I don’t need that idiot high fiving me or some dumb shit.

  Trevor grins. “Just like the old days.”

  “Yeah,” I grumble. I tuck the gun into the waistband of my jeans, and grab the letter. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ read that, and you better give it to her if something happens.”

&nbs
p; Trevor holds his hands up. “Hell, I’m not interested in reading your love letter.”

  I nod and give him a hard look. “Remember everything I told you.”

  He taps a finger against his temple.

  Despite the fact that he’s a piece of shit, I trust him to do what I asked him to do in the event that things go south during one of these jobs. If I get locked up, or god forbid don’t come back, I need him to carry out those instructions to the letter.

  Trevor is family, and he trusts me too. We won’t fuck each other over, which means a lot in this racket. I guess that’s why he’s been so eager for me to work for him again. The last few guys he brought on tried to skim off the top. One actually got away, and I didn’t bother asking what he did to the other two. I can pretty well guess.

  I start to leave, but Trevor tries to tempt me to stay. He can call a few of his friends, he suggests. It’ll be a party just like the old days. “Not tonight, man.” I pause as I’m halfway out the door. “How much would you knock off that debt for my bike?”

  Trevor’s eyebrows shoot up. “You serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d pay you what it’s worth and then some. You know I’ve always loved that bike.”

  It’s an old-school Indian, fully restored. Custom exhaust, paint job, chromed out, the works. More than that, it’s got some sentimental value attached to it since it belonged to my old man. Trevor always looked up to him when we were kids.

  My father lived sort of like this, lots of expensive crap laying around the string of shitty dumps we stayed in to keep under the radar. He threw money around, and liked to show off, which I guess impressed Trevor enough when he was young to make him wanna go into the business himself.

  But Trevor didn’t see the other side. Never having real friends because we moved all the time. Never learning shit in school because I changed schools so much. Never having clean clothes or real food, despite my dad and his harem of girlfriends having plenty of time since they didn’t work real jobs.

  On two separate occasions I found one of those girls dead. One was in the bathroom, crumpled over the side of the bathtub with dried vomit down her front. The other was slumped over the kitchen table, her gear still laid out around her. At the time I thought she had just nodded out, something that happened enough I wasn’t alarmed. I scarfed down a Pop Tart a few feet away while I watched cartoons, unaware that she wasn’t breathing.