Devil's Despair: Travis's Stand - Part 31
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Part 31

"He loves me, Ace," I say quietly, hoping to reach my brother's heart.

"I love you, Sarah. And I know what's good for you."

"Don't talk to me about what's good for me or what you think Bean would have to say about this," I slam him with truth, then add an extra insult. "She'd be ashamed of you for doing this to him. He was your best friend."

"You come first. Always, before any and all of them."

"Do I, though?" I ask sincerely. "Because it doesn't feel like I do. It rarely did, Ace."

Ace turns, giving me a look of what I determine is confusion, so I continue. "You left me not once, but twice, when you went to Ohio for all those months. You left me again when you went to Vegas for Rae."

"You were taken care of," he tries to explain.

"Yes, I was. Travis took care of me. He made sure Bean and I were okay. Travis, Hayden, and Toby all put me first, but not you."

I'm right. He knows I am and it hurts. My intention isn't to strike him with the truth, but to get him to realize what he's doing.

"Sarah," he says on a sigh.

"Ace, where were you when Bean died?"

That question lingers in the air, the honesty of my blatant point causing him to stay quiet, letting me finish. "Trav was there," I whisper quietly. "If he wouldn't have done the things he did, Ace, I'm not so sure I would've been okay."

Ace still has nothing to say in his own defense. He has to know I'm right.

"I love him," I continue. "And you're hurting me by doing this."

Ace thinks he's won this. He hasn't and the first chance I get, I'll figure this out with Travis. Come h.e.l.l or high motherf.u.c.king water, I'll figure this out with the only person who matters.

"I don't want to know you anymore," I mumble to the window of his truck as I listen to the radio play a song not so unlike the life I wish I lived.

Andrew Belle knows how to make a girl hurt. "In My Veins" is crushing my heart and twisting my soul.

Finally, after pulling into Ace's driveway, I get out and walk in the front door. Not looking back to see if Ace followed, I move quickly and head straight back to the room I don't plan to stay in long. Pa.s.sing Rae, sitting quietly at their dining room table, I don't offer her so much as a glance. I don't think she's in any shape to handle my anger and hostility right now. She's got to be just as heartsick as I am; Travis is, or was, her best friend.

Diamond, Ace's dog, wags his tail in excitement, thinking I've willingly come back and apparently just for him. Thankfully, Decklan is nowhere in sight.

The immediate knock on my door, shortly after I've closed it, further p.i.s.ses me off. I haven't had time to process, and these people want to pick apart what they think they know about my relationship with my best friend.

I don't move off the bed to answer.

The door opens carefully, and I find Rae leaning against the jamb. She's been crying. Her hands are hidden under her arms, which are crossing her waist. She's changed into her night shorts and her own Devil's Despair tee. It f.u.c.king kills me to look at it.

Clearing her throat, she asks, "Can I come in?"

"No, Rae. You can't," I tell her. "I don't want company."

She takes a brief second to a.s.sess what's in front of her and enters anyway. I sigh heavily at the intrusion.

"I won't stay long. I'm only here to ask if there's anything you need."

Dear G.o.d, is there a Post-it Note big enough to list what I f.u.c.king need?

"Yeah," I snap back, not caring it's not her fault my brother's a giant d.i.c.k. "Travis. That's what I need."

"Sarah," she starts. Her head tilts to the side and her eyes fill with tears. "I don't know how to help."

"Then don't worry about it. Shutting the door on your way out is help enough right now, Raegan."

I start to feel bad but, good G.o.d above, this is the last place I'd thought I'd end up today and I just came from the hospital so that's saying something.

Rae dismisses my request and asks, "Ace wants to talk to you. Will you let him?"

"f.u.c.k that s.h.i.t. I hate him, Rae."

"Sarah, if you let him talk he's more likely to listen to you than anyone else."

Tears fill my eyes and I look to the ceiling trying to control them before they have a chance to fall. "Do you not know him, Rae? Once Ace decides on something, that's it, it's done."

"You're giving Travis up?"

Again, I've not had time to process anything. All Ace's demands to walk away from Travis, seeing him lying in that cold hospital bed alone after our weekend together, Ace forcing me to stay away from him, watching Raegan go through this as I am-it's too f.u.c.king much.

"Can you go? This isn't your fault, but I don't want to talk to you anymore."

She nods, lifts her body off the doorframe, and grabs the handle. She stops, turns around, and quietly tells me, "Let Ace calm down. He does want to talk to you, Sarah. He just doesn't know how."

"Raegan," I sigh. "I'm telling you that's not a good idea. I'm not saying I hate him like I did when I was a kid. I mean it when I say I f.u.c.king hate him."

Wiping the tears I've caused to fall from her face, her eyes meet mine and she voices, in a rigid tone I've not heard her use toward anyone, "I realize you don't know the relationship I had with my mom growing up. The woman who was supposed to love and protect me, didn't. Instead, she hated me for just being alive. I can't tell you what I would've given for her to show me an ounce of interest, let alone try to step in and protect me from a future she was scared I'd have. Ace is doing this because he loves you, not because he hates you or Travis. You can continue to sit in here and be angry but imagine your life without Ace in it and how you would've ended up without him."

Wiping away evidence of my sadness for Rae, I plead, "Please shut my door on the way out. I'm done for today."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

Travis TELL HIM TO stop. Please, Mom. Wake up and tell him to stop.

It's all I can think as I watch the man continue moving on top of my mom. His breath is heavy and his hands are digging into her skin as she remains sleeping under him.

"Payment's a payment, alive or dead," he spits out before licking her cheek where I've kissed her so many times.

She can't be dead.

I want my dad.

Since Lacey brought me home from the hospital, I've sat alone in my apartment remembering with twisted reality what's happened. It doesn't matter what I say or do; things are what they are. Ace isn't a person who can be persuaded. He never has been. My only choice to make Sarah happy is to let her go and free her to find happiness-just not with me.

It's been three days since I've seen Sarah's face, heard her voice, or felt her body next to mine.

I miss her smile, humor, wit, and oddly more than anything, I miss her foul mouth. My rooms here feel empty without her crazy spirit filling them.

It's not Sarah and me together that I'm missing exactly. I'm missing Sarah, my best friend, most of all.

I've gotten a string of restless text messages from her, which were sent from Rae's phone. I didn't replace hers as I had promised. There hadn't been time. Her messages were vexing, uncontrolled, and each proving how upset and betrayed she felt by those she loved the most, including me. I didn't text her back. It wouldn't be right to drag Rae into the middle of this. I haven't talked to her since Sunday either. My hope is that Ace hasn't been taking any of his anger out on anyone else.

The sadness of knowing I'll wreck Sarah is overwhelming. My chest aches to think about the things I've got to say to get her to walk away. She won't understand. We were good, solid, and happy-for a short time.

I, however, could never be as happy as I was when I was with her. It was happiness I'd never felt possible.

My sister has been insistent I eat, rest, and relax. Lacey's cooking does nothing for my appet.i.te. The whiskey helps me sleep, but I wake with the nightmares that haunt me when I'm most vulnerable and alone. I used to appreciate time alone, but I can't find any sort of peace and calm in my own presence anymore, so I haven't been able to rest.

I decided yesterday to renovate my dad's house and sell it when it's finished. I'm good with my hands and my dad taught me how to do repairs when I was a kid. Anything further I need help with, the guys at work will have no problem doing.

Twisting the bottle in my hand, I take another drink and swallow hard. The sting the whiskey burns briefly before its warmth is able to soothe my nerves. Lying back on the couch after taking another drink, I mentally beg the alcohol to do its job and help me find a peaceful night's sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

Sarah "GO ON. GET out of here, Sarah. I'll finish the rest of your orders." Colbie, my friend and fellow waitress at the diner, has been forced to pick up my slack all week. "The guy at the corner table looks lonely, and since you're sulking and too sad to notice he can't stop looking at you the way he is, I'll let him down easy."

I turn to the man who asked me for my number while I waited on him earlier and smile before turning back to Colbie. "I don't know if I should. No one's talked to him and he won't answer my calls."

Colbie reaches out and places her hand gently on my shoulder. I feel my face get warm as I attempt to control my emotions. "You said you know where he may have gone, right? Go there, check it out, and if he's not there so be it. At least you tried."

I still refuse to casually talk to Travis's "friends." I've kept my distance and so far, Ace has accepted it. He hasn't pushed, which is surprising. The first call I made with my new phone was to Travis . . . again . . . and again. He never answered and I never left a message.

"You're sure you're okay being alone here? I can stay."

Smiling softly, Colbie says, "You've been scaring the customers all week, Sarah. I've got this."

Lettie pipes in from behind her, adding her usual nonsense. "For the love of G.o.d, girlfriend, you're scaring me. Go find that hot piece of a.s.s. This is what you want and from what you said, it's what he wanted. We've got this place. It's dead in here anyway. Lunch rush is over."

Removing my ap.r.o.n, I lay it on the counter of the diner bar and move in to hug Lettie, then Colbie. They're both smiling, understanding what I'm about to do.

Rae said no one's talked to Travis since he got home from the hospital-no one but Lacey. When I called her from work this morning she was quiet. She was surprised to hear from me since my wall of silence hadn't come down since this started.

She didn't want to tell me where she thought Travis had gone, only that he'd been "absent" for a few days and didn't want to be found.

After getting nothing from her, I sent a text to Hayden, knowing if there was anyone in their traitorous group who would keep his mouth shut about me asking, it would be him. He didn't confirm Trav's whereabouts, but when I suggested Trav might be at his dad's old house, Hayden didn't deny it. And so I had my answer.

Pulling up to the old house, I feel uneasy. Travis's unrepaired Jeep is in the driveway. The side of it is completely torn apart, paint scratched and door dented in completely. He hasn't gotten it fixed. I park my car next to a black truck I've never seen.

The front door is wide open and tools are scattered along the porch and into the yard. The screen door has been removed and I have an un.o.bstructed view inside.

Before walking up to the open front entrance, I take in a collective breath. I haven't seen or heard from Travis since I left him at the hospital a week ago and didn't come back as I had promised him I would.

"I'm back now," I whisper to no one as I take a step in through the front door.

I hear music blaring and voices shouting from the kitchen, so I slowly walk up the small set of stairs leading to it. I don't see Travis, but my eyes fall on another man. He's young, appearing closer to my age than Trav's. He's tall, thin, and his skin is pale from the settling dust that flies throughout the room. His hair is covered in small white particles. His arms are crusted with white splotches of what appears to be paint.

I don't know anything about home renovations, but as I take my eyes off the man in front of me, I look around quickly and a.s.sess; this place has been completely gutted.

The mess Travis caused during our visit has been removed and in its place are small power tools and building supplies. The back door has been taken out and sits against the wall next to where it once stood. The carpet's been removed, and the walls are stained haphazardly with s.p.a.ckle. And it's cold as h.e.l.l in here.

I close my eyes at the small comfort of knowing he hasn't been sitting home alone. Trav's been keeping himself busy.

"Hi," the tall man greets gently, laying down the sander he was holding. He removes his work gla.s.ses and places them on top of his head. "I'm Greg."

"Sarah," I return, still taking the place in.

"You here for Travis?"

"Yeah."

"He's down that way." He points, and I follow the direction of his finger.

My eyes move to the mouth of the hall and I see Travis leaning the top half of his body against the wall near his dad's room. His face is covered in the same dust as Greg's, along with his clothes.

He's wearing old, worn, brown work boots and a pair of black work pants. The tool belt hangs low from the weight of the many tools hanging on it. The sling I left him with at the hospital is gone. His posture is straight, signaling his ribs must've already started to heal.

He's not saying anything as I stand still in front of him, arms at my sides, and my mouth slightly open in awe of his presence taking up the room. G.o.d, I've missed him.

"Give us a few minutes?" Trav asks Greg, but doesn't look away from where I'm standing.

"Take your time," Greg answers sweetly, then removes his own belt and lays it down on the counter in front of him. "I've got s.h.i.t to do anyway. I'm in no hurry, man. Call me when you're done here."

"Thank you," I whisper to Greg as he walks around me and makes his way to the door.

Travis doesn't say anything after Greg walks out. His eyes scan my body, up and down, then they settle back on my face. My body's reaction to him is the same as it's been since the night of Bean's funeral. And it's the first time I've recognized it for what it is-warmth and safety in the presence of the person I've loved for so long.

And G.o.d and Bean above both know I do love him.

Travis And here she is.