breathing gets harsh and his whisper tears straight through me. “I'm sorry I fucked up long before I met you, sorry I did things that I regret, that haunt me, that are trying their fucking damnedest to fuck us up.” Ty releases me abruptly and turns away, raking his fingers through his hair, closing his eye. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“That's a lot of fucks, even for you McCabe.” I put my hands on my hips and try not to panic because that's the first thing I want to do. I want to freak out and start screaming, cussing, shaking him and demanding that he tell me what's going on. But I don't. I hold it all in because he can't, because I'm the other half to to his broken heart, and it's my job to keep this black, bloody thing beating.
He's pacing back and forth, biting at his lip ring, spinning it back and forth with his tongue. That means he's thinking hard about something. But what? What? What? I move forward and grab Ty around the arm, wrapping my hand around his solid bicep, his swarm of butterflies. He pauses then and looks down at me, eyes lost and faraway. I do my best to bring him back, reaching up and grabbing his nose ring, pulling his face down and kissing him again. It seems to work, clears his head just enough that he's able to speak. Demons still dance behind his eyes, but they have no hold over his lips.
“Remember,” Ty begins and then has to swallow, run his tongue over his lips. “Remember the story I told? The one about the girl?” I try to smile, but inside, I'm freaking the fuck out.
“I remember all your stories, and I seem to remember there being a lot of girls.” I try not to sound jealous when I say this, but I can't help myself. Ty is mine; he's always been mine, even if I didn't know it at the time. I take my eyes from his face and focus on my rings, the red and gold, the silver and blue. Both from Ty, both precious. I lean forward and press my forehead against his skin. “Why?”
“The girl … the kidnapped one.” Ty swallows. His pulse picks up. I can feel it thumping thrumming through his veins. “You remember her, right?”
“How could I ever forget?” That bit of darkness, that horrible sliver of pain is still stuck in Ty's soul, and I don't know how I'm ever going to get it out. I'm going to do my best though, or die trying. Ty swallows and steps back, untangling my hand from his arm, putting his palms on either side of my face. He looks me right in the eyes and lets me see the horror in his gaze.
“Well,” he begins, stops, pauses. I have to wonder where this is going, how we got from one house of horrors to the next. This is not about Hannah, not exactly. “People are asking questions, lots of them.”
“People?” I ask, trying to puzzle out what's going on. Ty doesn't respond to my question and keeps going.
“And they're starting to get answers. Somehow, someway, these answers are all leading straight to me.”
10
Ty is like a rubber ball – he bounces back real quick, even when the odds are stacked against him, even when a lesser man would crumble. Balls to the wall doesn't even begin to describe this man. He's the perfect walking example of perseverance. I wonder absently where he'd be if we hadn't met. Probably in a better place than me. Most likely, I'd still be back at the U, fucking random frat boys and dudes with substance abuse problems. I put a cigarette in my mouth, but don't smoke it, watching as Ty loads up our rental car and tries to figure out how to get the dog crate into the backseat. I figure he'd have been okay. After all, he was the one getting his shit together long before I came into the picture. And it was his idea that we get tested, that we go to SOG. I owe him my fucking soul.
“Holy fuck,” he says, stepping back and examining the big plastic rectangle. Angelica watches from a safe distance behind my ankles. As soon as we walked out of the airport, she started to whimper and Ty, softie that he fucking is, let her out. She has
“That's a lot of fucks, even for you McCabe.” I put my hands on my hips and try not to panic because that's the first thing I want to do. I want to freak out and start screaming, cussing, shaking him and demanding that he tell me what's going on. But I don't. I hold it all in because he can't, because I'm the other half to to his broken heart, and it's my job to keep this black, bloody thing beating.
He's pacing back and forth, biting at his lip ring, spinning it back and forth with his tongue. That means he's thinking hard about something. But what? What? What? I move forward and grab Ty around the arm, wrapping my hand around his solid bicep, his swarm of butterflies. He pauses then and looks down at me, eyes lost and faraway. I do my best to bring him back, reaching up and grabbing his nose ring, pulling his face down and kissing him again. It seems to work, clears his head just enough that he's able to speak. Demons still dance behind his eyes, but they have no hold over his lips.
“Remember,” Ty begins and then has to swallow, run his tongue over his lips. “Remember the story I told? The one about the girl?” I try to smile, but inside, I'm freaking the fuck out.
“I remember all your stories, and I seem to remember there being a lot of girls.” I try not to sound jealous when I say this, but I can't help myself. Ty is mine; he's always been mine, even if I didn't know it at the time. I take my eyes from his face and focus on my rings, the red and gold, the silver and blue. Both from Ty, both precious. I lean forward and press my forehead against his skin. “Why?”
“The girl … the kidnapped one.” Ty swallows. His pulse picks up. I can feel it thumping thrumming through his veins. “You remember her, right?”
“How could I ever forget?” That bit of darkness, that horrible sliver of pain is still stuck in Ty's soul, and I don't know how I'm ever going to get it out. I'm going to do my best though, or die trying. Ty swallows and steps back, untangling my hand from his arm, putting his palms on either side of my face. He looks me right in the eyes and lets me see the horror in his gaze.
“Well,” he begins, stops, pauses. I have to wonder where this is going, how we got from one house of horrors to the next. This is not about Hannah, not exactly. “People are asking questions, lots of them.”
“People?” I ask, trying to puzzle out what's going on. Ty doesn't respond to my question and keeps going.
“And they're starting to get answers. Somehow, someway, these answers are all leading straight to me.”
10
Ty is like a rubber ball – he bounces back real quick, even when the odds are stacked against him, even when a lesser man would crumble. Balls to the wall doesn't even begin to describe this man. He's the perfect walking example of perseverance. I wonder absently where he'd be if we hadn't met. Probably in a better place than me. Most likely, I'd still be back at the U, fucking random frat boys and dudes with substance abuse problems. I put a cigarette in my mouth, but don't smoke it, watching as Ty loads up our rental car and tries to figure out how to get the dog crate into the backseat. I figure he'd have been okay. After all, he was the one getting his shit together long before I came into the picture. And it was his idea that we get tested, that we go to SOG. I owe him my fucking soul.
“Holy fuck,” he says, stepping back and examining the big plastic rectangle. Angelica watches from a safe distance behind my ankles. As soon as we walked out of the airport, she started to whimper and Ty, softie that he fucking is, let her out. She has
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