Light in the Shadows Part 12

The thing I didn't think Daniel realized, even now, is that so would I.

"I hear you, Daniel. I really do. But I'm not trying to open up a book that is better off closed, okay." I really wish I meant what I said. Because I still believed Maggie was better off without me. Not that she was better off with some douche like Jake Fitzsimmons (who was still glaring at me from behind the counter; f.u.c.king p.u.s.s.y), but I wanted more for her than what I had ever been able to give.

But Daniel only laughed. Like I had just said the funniest joke he had ever heard. And it ticked me off. I clenched my fist, my knuckles turning white. "What's so d.a.m.n funny?" I asked in a low voice. My urge to pummel people was out of control today.

Daniel shook his head. "You're what's funny. Do you really expect me to believe you won't be sniffing around Mags' skirt the first chance you get? You can't stay away from her. And I get it, okay. All I'm saying is be a bit more...careful with her this time. She's just now getting her c.r.a.p together. And you can't come blowing back into her life and s.h.i.+tting all over it." He leveled his eyes at me in warning and I wanted to deny what he said. But the man spoke truth.

We watched each other warily for a few more minutes. "Fair enough," I said finally. Daniel nodded, seeming to accept my response.

"So, you gonna come back to Jackson?" he asked me, changing the subject. I was left in a bit of recoil by the switch. Daniel crossed his arms on top of the table and waited for me to answer him as though he had all the time in the world to sit here and chat.

"I'd planned on it. I probably won't start until the end of the week. I've got to help Ruby out at the shop, make sure she's doing all right before I go back to school," I explained.

"Understandable. Well, if there's anything you need, Rachel and I are around," he offered offhandedly and I couldn't really tell if he meant it or not. Then he got to his feet. Clearly our conversation was over.

I grabbed the full coffee cup and threw it in the trash. Daniel called out a goodbye to Jake, who was still watching us, looking p.i.s.sy, which gave me immense satisfaction. We headed out to the parking lot.

"Okay, well I guess I'll see you around," Daniel said, throwing me a wave as he got in his truck. I waved back. I got into my car and started it up, not sure if I had just experienced a thinly veiled threat or unexpected support. Either way, Daniel Lowe had given me something to think about.

Chapter Fourteen.

-Maggie-

"You'll never guess who I just saw in the office, filling out paperwork," Claire said, sitting down at our lunch table. Daniel and Rachel looked up as she started to unwrap her sandwich. Daniel seemed wary, as though he knew something the rest of us didn't know. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he seemed reluctant to make any sort of eye contact.

"Who?" Rachel asked, taking a sip of her soda.

"Clay Reed," Claire said in a whisper. My head jerked in her direction. What did she just say?

"Huh?" Rachel asked, looking confused. She shot me a look as if to ask do you know anything about this? I shook my head. I was currently the last person on the planet to be in the know when it came to Clayton Reed.

"Yeah, rumor has it, he's re-enrolling at Jackson. He was talking to the secretary when I saw him. I tried to hang around outside the door for a while, hoping I'd catch him. But the bell rang and I had to get to cla.s.s," Claire said conspiratorially.

Clay was back in school? That must mean he had decided to stay in Davidson. When we had spoken after the funeral, he had seemed set on returning to Florida. I wonder what changed? And there went my stomach flip flopping all over the place.

"Interesting," I muttered, pus.h.i.+ng my lunch away. I had suddenly lost my appet.i.te.

Daniel cleared his throat, drawing my attention. Rachel gave him a look. "What do you know, Danny? Spill it," his girlfriend demanded. He looked uncomfortable.

"Well, I may have run into him on Sunday. And he may have mentioned he was planning on sticking around," Daniel mumbled, stuffing a few French fries into his mouth.

Rachel smacked his arm. "And you didn't say anything? What the h.e.l.l, Danny?" she shrieked, glaring at him. Daniel hunched his shoulders up, clearly feeling the stink eye hitting him from all directions.

"I wasn't sure he would actually do it. I didn't want to say anything if he ended up leaving again," Daniel defended himself. I grit my teeth together in frustration. Nothing like being blindsided to make me feel punchy.

"Way to keep secrets, a.s.shole," I threw at him, though I couldn't summon up a whole lot of anger. Mostly because I was annoyingly thrilled that I would be seeing Clay again. Not that that changed anything.

Sure sweetie, you keep telling yourself that. I goaded myself. Yep, the full on internal conversations had begun.

"What's with the angry faces guys?" Jake asked, plopping down beside me. Claire looked from him to me as he put his hand on the small of my back briefly before digging into his lunch. When did Jake start feeling like it was his place to touch me? He and I were definitely not on the same page. In fact, he was a good twenty chapters ahead of me. It made me want to rip out the freaking pages and shove them down his throat.

See...punchy.

"Oh, just dis.h.i.+ng out the gossip. You know with Clay back, that's all anyone is talking about." Claire grinned, licking pudding off the back of her spoon, her eyes twinkling devilishly.

Jake went instantly tense beside me and he s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, that's cool I guess." It was very obvious that it was anything but cool as far as he was concerned. Rachel was staring at me, trying to send me Morse code through her eyeb.a.l.l.s. But clearly I wasn't up to receiving encrypted messages.

"Yep, cool," I said dryly, getting to my feet. I was definitely finished with this conversation and I had homework to finish up before my next cla.s.s. "Later guys," I tossed out as casually as possible before heading to the trash can.

I was shaking the food off my tray before putting it on the counter when Kylie joined me. She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Wow, so Clay's moved back to Davidson. That's so awesome. I hope he's okay. I mean after trying to kill himself and all," she said with false brightness. I shot her a look over my shoulder and then walked out of the cafeteria, deciding no response was better than going all Kung Fu ninja on her a.s.s. f.u.c.k that b.i.t.c.h.

The rest of the day was spent fielding a million and one questions about Clay. You'd think this was the only news worthy event happening at Jackson. Had everyone already forgotten about the junior girl who had gotten knocked up by her thirty year old boyfriend? That seemed a h.e.l.l of a lot more interesting than the fact that Clayton Reed had returned.

By the end of the day I was ready to bash my head in. "Have you talked to him at all?" Lila Casteel asked me as I headed toward the gym for track practice. I hefted the bag up onto my shoulder and gave her my frostiest smile.

"Nope, but I'll get right on that, Lila. It's right behind learning to tap dance and translating the Odyssey into Pig Latin." Lila looked taken aback but I just didn't give a s.h.i.+t. I stormed away from her and was glad to have practice to keep my mind distracted.

After practice, I grabbed my bag and left before anyone else could stop me, asking questions I didn't have answers for. If one more person asked me if I had seen Clay and whether he was really coming back to Jackson, I would profess temporary insanity and go UFC fighter on their faces.

I dug through my bag for my keys as I got into the parking lot. When I glanced up, the sight of who waited by my car made me stumble. There went my plans for plausible deniability.

"d.a.m.n it," I muttered under my breath, righting myself, feeling the sting of embarra.s.sment color my cheeks.

"You okay?" Clay asked, coming to my side, making the flash of humiliation even more acute. I waved him away.

"I'm fine." He jammed his hands back into his pockets and fell into step beside me.

"This thing still lives, huh?" he asked, poking the tire of my car with his shoe. I snorted as I opened the door to throw my bag inside.

"Still kickin'. She'll outlive your fancy ride over there, I have no doubt," I said, nodding toward his BMW that was parked beside mine. Clay laughed.

"I'm pretty sure your car could take mine in a cage fight. I bet she fights dirty." I tried not to get lost in his eyes as they twinkled in amus.e.m.e.nt. It was way too easy to fall into our old banter. But too much water had run under that particular bridge.

"As great as it is to stand here and discuss the finer points of our respective cars, I'm feeling smelly and sweaty and would really like a shower. I'm a.s.suming there is a reason for your random stalking?" I asked, trying to sound annoyed, when in actuality I was entirely too excited to see him.

Clay's smile faltered and then disappeared altogether. Jeesh, I hadn't meant to be so testy. He looked as though I had just told him his favorite dog had run away. But my overly fluttery heart set me on edge. It reminded me of how simple it would be to lose myself in that place where he was my entire world. The world he had decimated.

"Yeah. Okay. Well, I just wanted to tell you that I've decided to stay in Davidson. At least for a while," he began but I cut him off.

"I've already heard." I made a show of checking my imaginary wrist watch. "About six and a half hours ago to be precise." Clay groaned.

"G.o.d, don't these people have anything better to talk about?" he growled. I lifted my shoulders in a shrug.

"This is Davidson, Virginia. You sneeze in the woods and everyone knows about it five minutes later and then proceeds to talk about it until you're forty. It's nothing personal. You just gave these people something to talk about. Be flattered," I said shortly, closing my car door and leaning against it.

Clay rolled his eyes toward the sky. "I just wish they'd talk about someone that wasn't me," he said softly and I felt bad for making light of it. I knew it was hard for him to be the center of attention. He had always preferred to blend into the background. But that was difficult to do after our stint as teenagers on the run. The town would be hard pressed to forget something like that anytime soon. And now that he was back it only served to fan the flames that had only just started to die down.

"Yeah, it sucks," I agreed, crossing my arms over my chest. Clay looked at me. I mean really looked at me and something flickered in his dark eyes that made my heart pitter patter. Annoying heart!

Slowly, he leaned against my car beside me. Our elbows rubbed together and the familiar tingles of electricity flickered across my skin.

"I just wanted to tell you myself. I know I've made things...difficult for you and I'm sure my showing up here makes it even worse." I wanted to stay angry with him. I wanted to yell and scream about the way he had left me. But it was hard to summon up anything other than stone cold relief that he was here at all. But as always I was able to hide my more vulnerable emotions under a hefty pile of sarcasm and snark.

"Nah. You give yourself too much credit," I teased, knocking his shoulder with mine. Clay glanced at me through his lashes, the look on his face leaving me breathless.

"Probably. But all the same, I don't want to make things harder for you." His voice dropped as his eyes fell to my lips.

I found myself leaning into him, my eyes searching his and not letting go. And I let the rough edges I had honed into sharp points soften a bit. "It was harder for me when you were gone," I admitted, surprising myself by laying such honesty at the feet of the one person who could stomp all over me. Something lit in Clay's eyes and flared to life. Reaching up, he pushed my hair back off of my shoulder and placed his hand on the side of my neck.

"Maggie, there's so much I need to tell you. To explain. I want you to understand why I never called. Why I felt the need to write that letter. Everything I did was done for what I thought were really good reasons. But right now it just feels like wasted time." His thumb caressed the skin under my ear and I had to tamp down on the urge to s.h.i.+ver, both at his touch and his words. The soundless chemistry began to build between us, just the way it always had. This felt so reminiscent of a time, not too long ago, when the next logical step would be to fall into each other's arms. And I saw that Clay recognized that as well. Then it all changed and the smoldering fire in his eyes flickered out.

Clay dropped his hand and stepped away, apology written all over his face. "I, uh, I really need to get home. I have to check on Ruby. I just wanted you to hear the news from me. I don't expect this to change things between us. I only wanted you to know." The s.h.i.+ft in his demeanor left me confused and then irritated. Again, this was cla.s.sic Clay. Hot and Cold. Yes and No. Up and Down.

"How typical," I said under my breath. Though not softly enough as became apparent by Clay's frown.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked in confusion. I threw my hands up in the air.

"This is so stereotypically Clay Reed! So predictable. You track me down after practice; because you had to see me. We have this little moment, you stare into my eyes, make some lame point to touch me. And just when we're getting somewhere, you turn around and leave. Because it's all so difficult for you. Whatever, Clay! I rode that rollercoaster once. And I want a f.u.c.king refund! If you're going to be living here, fine! But don't yank me around. I don't have the time or patience to go another round of will-he-won't-he with you." My voice petered out and I wasn't sure whether I wanted to kiss his stupid, perfect lips or throw my water bottle at his head.

Clay's face went pale. "I never meant...no you're right, Maggie. You didn't deserve it then, and you sure as h.e.l.l don't deserve it now. But I'm trying, I swear. I'm working really hard to pull it together. I wish you could trust that." Trust. There was no way I was giftwrapping that and handing it over to him anytime soon. It would take more than puppy dog eyes and a velvet tongue, that's for sure.

"I guess only time will tell, Clay," I said, getting into my car. I didn't wait for his response. I started the engine and left before I ended up making a fool of myself by chucking in all of my self-respect for a momentary taste of Clayton Reed heaven.

When I got home, compelled by motives I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to identify, I dug the b.u.t.terfly necklace out from the bottom of my jewelry box. I hadn't worn it since I had taken it off in the wake of Clay's kiss off letter.

But here I was, carefully clasping the delicate chain around my neck, letting the thin silver b.u.t.terfly lie hidden beneath my s.h.i.+rt.

It rested cold against my skin but I felt the truth of why I was wearing it again burn through me. Clay was in my heart and in my head. It was exhausting continually pus.h.i.+ng him out.

But was I ready to let him in?

Chapter Fifteen.

-Clay-

I had started seeing my new therapist a few weeks ago. Shaemus Laughtry was about as different from Dr. Todd as you could get. Whereas my Grayson therapist was calm and collected, Shaemus was energetic and fervent. He was a likable guy, I'd give him that, but I was still on the fence as to whether he would be a good fit for me.

Our sessions had included teleconferencing with Dr. Todd, in order to "ease my transition." Shaemus had me sign a new no-harm contract and we went over what I wanted to get out therapy. It was hard for me to open up to someone new, but I was determined to give it the good ol' college try.

As it currently stood, I met with Shaemus two times a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays. I would go to his office in Staunton right after school and stayed until six. So in all I was meeting with my new shrink four hours a week. This was significantly less than what I was getting at Grayson, but it was still a lot of time to be spending in counseling every week. I was bitter. Of course I was bitter. What eighteen year old guy wanted to be stuck talking to a balding, middle aged dude that smelled like stale coffee and cigarettes instead of doing, oh I don't know, anything else?

I felt like a freak, needing to spend that much time talking about my feelings. How does that make you feel? Lets process that. Draw a picture of your happiest memory. f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, what a pain in the a.s.s! I could have blown it off; conveniently forgotten to show up. But then where would that leave me? And the truth was I was too scared to find out.

Things at home with Ruby weren't getting any better. It was like Night of the Living Dead around there. And not in the cool George Romero kind of way. More like the c.r.a.ppy remake.

She barely spoke to me and I felt like I was taking care of a child. She had yet to return to the shop. Tilly was running things for now, which was fine for the interim, but couldn't be a long term solution. I was beginning to think that Ruby would never bounce back. But then wasn't it messed up of me to expect her to be right as rain after only a few weeks? What did that say about me that I couldn't let the poor woman grieve? That I was so set on helping her move on.

The vibe in the house was miserable. For the first time in my life, I didn't want to be there. But I couldn't leave. I wouldn't leave. Even if it did trigger every self-destructive impulse I had.

"You need to find a hobby, Clay. Or a job. Something," Shaemus announced as our session was coming to a close. I blinked slowly. Huh?

"I have a hobby. I draw. A lot," I replied, swearing that if he told me take up macrame I was out of there.

Shaemus rubbed at his greying goatee thoughtfully. I started fixating on his sweater. It was a loud teal and neon green. Who woke up in the morning and thought Today I'm going to wear a sweater that will make everyone that looks at me want to gouge their eyes out?

Just when I was going to ask where he bought his wardrobe because I think I might want one of those sweaters, he snapped his fingers. I waited for him to shout out "Aha!" and the moment would be complete.

"Not drawing. Your art is wonderful but it's become too tied up in the angsty stuff. I'm talking about something that would force you out of your house and interacting more with other people. You self-isolate entirely too much."

Oh G.o.d, he was going to tell me to sign up to coach little league, wasn't he? I had a flash of screaming children and I shuddered in revulsion. Interacting with people, in my opinion, was entirely overrated. I shared my a.s.sessment with Shaemus, who raised his bushy eyebrows as though I had just proven his point. "That's exactly why you should do it. You fall into old patterns when things get hard. That's a natural, human response. But the point of all this is for you to break those patterns. To make yourself bust out of the mold you've created. So, that is why you need some sort of activity that keeps your mind active and focused on something positive." He gave me several brochures on volunteering. Wow, I could spend my free time emptying bed pans as a Candy Striper. What the h.e.l.l did you call a guy Candy Striper? s.h.i.+t, it was going to drive me nuts.

Or I could join the litter patrol and get up at six every Sat.u.r.day morning to walk up and down the road picking up garbage like some sort of chain gang.

Not liking any of those options, I decided on something a bit more productive. And that's how I found myself, Thursday evening after my therapy session, filling out an application at Bubbles, home of gluttonous banana splits and hamburgers with a side of heart burn.

I had never worked before, unless I could list illegal sales on my job history. But now that my parents had cut me off and Ruby's shop was floundering, I figured it was time for me to roll up my sleeves and pitch in. And this would get me "interacting." Mark your calendars folks, Clay Reed was gettin' a job!

"You're here to schlep in with the rest of us?" I looked up to see Rachel smiling at me a little warily.

I put down the pen and turned to face her. "I thought you worked at the movie store in town," I said, indicating her Bubble's ap.r.o.n. She smoothed down the purple fabric strapped to her front and looked sheepish.

"I do. This is my second job. My car and insurance don't pay for themselves. Though I really wish they would." Her lopsided smile was a bit warmer this time. I laughed and nodded in agreement.