Page 28 of Salvaged Heart

28

BECKHAM

“ Y ou need to go back in there and apologize, Laurel. You don’t have a single clue what you’re talking about.”

Laurel was striding down the front steps of the manor in the direction of her black Mazda parked in the driveway. Her hair whipped out behind her, blown about by the late August storm rolling in over the lake. It rustled the leaves and chilled the balmy evening air. She didn’t turn around until she got to her car, making a grab for her bag that wasn’t on her arm.

“Fuck.” She cussed under her breath before finally whirling on me. “Go get my purse, Beck, then leave me the fuck alone.”

She looked half-crazed. In all the years I'd known Laurel, I had never seen her this angry. Her whole body vibrated with it.

“Go. Get. My. Purse.” She spat again, throwing her arms out as if trying to shoo me back towards the house.

But I stood my ground. “I will, Laurel. But first, we need to talk.”

She huffed, sending a lock of blonde hair flying from in front of her face. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Then just listen.”

“It’s funny you suddenly have so much to say. Five minutes ago, I’d thought he had sucked your tongue right out of your damn mouth by how little you were managing to use it.”

Shame hit me.

I wasn’t sure what came over me in the kitchen. It was like my whole brain turned offline while Laurel threw hateful words at Anders. I'd told myself countless times that on her next breath, I would step in. The next insult she fired at him, I would put it down. One more minute and I would intervene. But instead, I just stood there. Unable to move. Unable to speak. Watching her tear into the man I cared so fucking deeply for, yet not doing a single thing about it.

I was a coward.

But not anymore. The second she stomped from the room, it was like all my senses came flooding back to me, and I was filled with the overwhelming need to chase after her and put her in her place. How dare she stand there looking down on me? Tapping her foot like she was better than the rest of us when she’d just shown her true colors. How ugly she was under that well-polished exterior.

“When did it start, Beck?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb. When did you start fucking my brother?” It was convenient that she suddenly viewed Anders as her brother again after always being so quick to disown him in the past.

“Jesus, Laurel. Don’t be so vulgar. What’s happening between Anders and me is more than that. I, I…” The words caught in my throat. The first time I professed my love for him would be to his face, not his sisters.

She scoffed. “So, a while then.” Her laugh was a brittle, bitter thing. “I asked you out right when things ended if your decision had anything to do with Anders, and you lied to my face.”

“You ended it with me, Laurel. I’d called to tell you everything, but as usual, you beat me to the punch, and it no longer seemed important.”

She rolled her eyes and looked back up at the house. I turned, expecting to see Anders had joined us, but the front porch was empty. The house, with dark windows, loomed over us ominously.

“I trusted you.” She whispered. “I told you he would find a way to get to you and poison you against me.”

“Laurel,” I sighed. “It’s not like that, not like that at all. Anders has never spoken badly about you. Your father and stepmom have put this all in your head. You just need to give him a chance to explain his side of things.”

“I’m not interested in hearing his justification for choosing drugs over his sister. I needed him. He wasn't there. Then he left me. There is no excuse for something like that.”

Anders had said his sister never knew what really happened to him that night, that it had all been kept a secret from her, and a part of me hadn’t believed it. A part of me clung to the idea that after all this time had passed, Laurel must have learned the truth or at least enough of it. But it dawned on me, at that moment, how wrong I'd been.

“You don’t know what happened that night, do you? The real reason Anders wasn’t there.”

She shot me an incredulous look. “And you do?”

“Yes, he told me.”

“I’m sure he did. Enlighten me, then.”

“I think you should give Anders a chance to tell you this story himself.”

It wasn’t my place to tell. He'd told me about Jonah in confidence. It hadn’t seemed like he had shared that part of him with anyone else before. Giving away that piece of him now to his sister seemed like a breach of confidence, but I wasn’t sure what other option I had. Laurel was on a war path that wouldn’t end anywhere good. Once she had the bit between her teeth, nothing was stopping her, and I couldn't risk her hurting Anders further.

“He had his chance earlier, but he didn’t take it. You know why, Beckham? Because deep down, he knows everything I said to him was true.”

I let out an exasperated sigh, trying to piece everything together in my head. Finding a place to begin was difficult when I didn’t know what little she already knew. She looked back at me, impatience and something akin to disbelief all over her face.

“Do you remember Jonah Benson?”

Whatever she'd been expecting me to say, it wasn’t that, but recognition lined her green eyes. “Anders’ weird stepbrother turned lover? How could I forget? The two of them were inseparable. Well, until Jonah disappeared off to a college out West and never came back. Anders moped for weeks. He was insufferable.”

College, fucking college. She couldn’t be serious.

“He didn’t disappear, Laurel. He overdosed and died in Anders’ arms seven years ago.”

Her lips parted, ready to spit something back at me, but she slammed them back closed before trying again. “That can’t be true.” The voice she spoke in now a complete contrast with the one she used just a moment earlier. Pain lanced through her face. “I would know if that was true.”

“That was why he forgot to come pick you up from camp. That was where he was, where your parents were, trying to cover up the fact that Anders had been there when it happened…that he was high, too.”

The second the last words left my mouth, I knew they were a mistake. Laurel would cling to them over everything else she just learned because they fit the narrative she already had in her head. She pulled herself back up, squaring her shoulders slightly, the momentary look of regret evaporating from her face.

“Anders is an addict, Laurel. Jonah was, too.”

“Anders isn’t an addict. He is just another rich party boy who refuses to be responsible for his actions. If what you told me about Jonah was true, you would think that would be enough to get his ass in gear. But no, that shows you what little fucks he gives about people.”

“Do you know where he's been the last seven years?”

“No, why would I? He never called, never answered my texts, never thought to check in and see how the sister he left behind was doing. All he cares about is himself.”

“Laurel, Anders was homeless before he came here. He was completely lost to his addiction, doing a lot of fucked up shit to get by. Neither of us could see it, but all the signs were there. He was just really good at hiding them.”

I thought back to the first time I’d met him. A completely broken man stood before me, a false smile plastered across his hollow face and something dark and troubled in his eyes. He’d taken my breath away even then, but it was nothing compared to how he looked at me now. The way his genuine smile stopped my heart in my chest, the force of it enough to burn me alive.

“Well, he seems fine now.”

“He is a long way from fine, Laurel, but he is getting better. He is sober, getting healthier and stronger by the day. It’s been a lot of hard work on his part, but he is finally beating this thing.”

My heart warmed with pride at the thought. Anders was doing so well. He'd set his mind to it and hadn’t faltered even on the hard days. There was this new strength in him. Gone was the fake cockiness he wore for the world, the I don’t give a fuck attitude, and in its place was this resilient, courageous, affectionate man, and God, did I love him.

“I don’t know if I can believe you. There are years of hurt I can’t just forget about. Even if everything you’ve said is true.”

“I know. I don’t expect you to. But please, Laurel, you have to give him a chance. You need to go back in there and try to…” her face told me not to finish that sentence.

It wasn’t only on her to make things right between them, but they would never get there if they didn’t set aside the past and focus on working towards the future. I believed Anders was ready to do just that. He knew how badly he hurt his sister and so desperately wanted to make it right, but shame and maybe pride made him stubborn, unwilling to move the first inch. His heart was battered and bruised. It had taken everything in him to trust me, even with the smallest part of it. I knew how scary the idea of trusting it to his sister would be.

They were cut from the same cloth.

“Let’s just go back inside, yeah. We were about to eat…”

She scoffed, but this time, her tone was playful. “So, that’s what you call that.”

I blushed, trying to stop the grin from spreading over my face. “I know things can’t be fixed overnight, but if you want to find your way back to one another, which I think deep down you both do, we can set that in motion.”

She looked back at me for a long time, not letting any evidence of what she was thinking come to the surface. Finally, she sighed and looked back up at the house, shaking her head slowly.

“So what, you’re gay now? How’d that happen?” There was no venom in her voice now. She sounded almost lost.

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I’ve found men attractive before, but it’s never been like it is with Anders. Something was pulling me to him from the moment we met. First, it was slow, small things like the desperate need to make him smile, to make sure he ate. Then it was sudden and all at once.” I cleared my throat, finding it hard to push words out past the emotion sitting like a ball on my chest. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Laurel. I don’t think that makes me gay. Bi honestly doesn’t feel right either.” Hell, maybe I was just Anders-sexual. Was that a thing, being gay for only one person? “It’s new…” She looked down, suddenly very interested in flaking her chipped polish from her nails. My confession was probably not one I should have made to my ex-girlfriend, of all people, but she needed to know that Anders wasn’t just a fling to me. That I hadn’t thrown us away on a whim. What I said had been the truth.

This summer was transformative in more ways than one. I’d come to Lake Norman not knowing what the end of August would bring, but now it was clear as day. I knew I wanted to get my contractor license, start my own business, spend my days renovating old houses like this one, and spend my nights making love to Anders until we fell into sleep. I wanted to wake up to the sun with him wrapped in my arms. I wanted to whisper sweet words in his ears and make him coffee and burnt toast before hugging him goodbye with promises of I’ll see you later, and I’ll miss you.

“ I honestly think he might be it for me.”

“Why does hearing you say that not hurt as much as it should?” She shrugged.

“I’m sorry.” The words were hollow, intended to pacify at best.

“You deserve the world, Beck. You always have. I’m not going to pretend I’m not shocked you found that with him, but I can tell you’re good for him.”

“He’s good for me, too.”

She answered with a small, defeated nod.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Give me a minute, and we can try this again. You might want to go in first. Make sure he’ll speak to me after all I said in there.”

I reached out and squeezed her hand in mine, mouthing thank you , and a large raindrop landed where they were joined. “Don’t stay out here too long. You know how August storms can get.”

She nodded, and I turned, letting go of her hand and striding away from her, feeling like gravity was pulling me back to him.

I didn’t head back towards the kitchen. The light off at the end of the hallway told me he was no longer there. But my feet seemed to know which direction to carry me, and I rushed to climb the stairs, eager to get back to him. Anxious to pull Anders into my arms and tell him that everything would be okay between them, tell him how much I loved him and how I’d told his sister as much. I wanted to kiss him as badly as I wanted to take my next breath. Just a few more steps, just a few more until I would have him in my arms again.

The light coming from his cracked doorway was low, only a lamp on the bedside table lit, and I peeked in, noting him sitting in his favorite spot by the window. His hand pressed to the glass, watching, I didn’t know what, outside on the back lawn. I knew he must be deep in his thoughts because he hadn’t heard me enter. I allowed myself to be content watching him for a moment before I opened my mouth.

He was so fucking beautiful. How was I so lucky that he was mine? Was he, though , or had I just presumed that he belonged to me in every way I belonged to him?

“I spoke to Laurel. I think she’s ready to talk properly if you still are.”

His head whipped around, curls flying as he went, and he looked back at me with those wide, gorgeous eyes. A smile turned up the corner of his lips. They parted slightly. I held back the urge to stride towards him, throw him against the wall, and kiss him silly.

“You came back?” His voice came out so weak and broken it was in danger of cracking my chest right in two. Did he really think I wouldn’t?

“Anders, I never even left.” He turned away again, shaking his head like he was trying to puzzle something out. Like he hadn’t thought he was worthy of sticking around for. “I just wanted to cool Laurel down before she…” What had I been preventing Laurel from doing? I wasn’t sure. It seemed incredibly important at that moment that she didn't leave.

But the look in those hazel eyes told me I'd messed this up. They glittered with tears, his features scrunched around them in an expression of disbelief. He'd thought I'd chosen her. He'd thought that when I chased her from the kitchen, that had been it for us, over as quickly as we started.

“I’m sorry,” I took two big steps towards him, hands held out, beckoning him closer. If I could lock my arms around him, he would know I could never pick another over him. As new and scary as this was, he was it for me. The words would be hard, but I could show him. I’d never let him doubt the way I felt about him again.

He came into my arms willingly, burying his head between my shoulder and neck, nuzzling down like a kitten into the warmth. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

I wrapped him as tightly as I could. “Anders, don’t be silly. I could never walk away from you. I could never walk away from this.”

His blunt fingernails dug into my sides through the soft cotton of my shirt, and we just held each other as close as two people could, allowing our deep breaths in and out to ground the worry and hurt that was swirling between us. It took me a few minutes to realize he was shaking, letting out what felt like heavy, tearless sobs. He suddenly felt all off balance in my arms, and I pulled back to try to get a read on his face, but he was expressionless. Eyes looking right through me.

“I got you, baby. Tell me what you need.” I brushed my lips over his hairline in a ghost of a kiss. “I’ll do anything for you.”

His hand left its death grip on my side and moved up to rest on my cheek, the pad of his thumb ghosting over the corner of my lips. “I wish we had more time, “ he whispered. “I’m so sorry I let you down.”

“Let me down? Anders?” He wasn’t making any sense.

“I said I would always be there for you, and when you needed me most…” his voice trailed off as he dropped the hand on my face down to his side. My brain registered the flash of orange clutched in his palm as he brought it down. “I think…I think I will be with you soon.”

“Anders, I’m right here.”

“I think…I think…I think…” Each word was more exhaled than spoken.

“You’re scaring me.”

He went to move away again, but I grabbed for his hand. He yanked it back from me, bringing the object he still held grasped to his chest like he was trying to keep me from taking whatever it was. My eyes caught on it. Almost as if sensing my sudden shift in attention, his hand opened, allowing the small orange container to drop to the floor. It fell with a tinny thud and rolled away under the bed just as it had done the last time I’d seen it. This time, the rattle of the pills inside was notably absent.

I stepped closer, touching his face, pressing my forehead into his, and taking a long gulp of air. His skin was so cold, yet clammy under my palms. “Where did you find them?” I whispered. It was a stupid question. I knew exactly where.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t move. He just kept looking at me with that haunted expression.

“How many did you take?”

His breaths were coming out slowly now, as if each required more energy than he had.

“How many, Anders?”

“I just wanted to see you again.”

“I was coming back…”

“Why did you leave me?” His tone was frantic now. Accusing almost. “You knew I wasn’t strong enough to live without you.”

“Anders, you’re so strong, but you must know I will always come back for you. What we have, I can’t describe it, but…” he swayed on his feet again, but I powered on. He needed to know how I felt about him. That I wouldn’t abandon him. “Fuck, Anders, I’m in love with you.”

“I know…” He whispered. “I know, I know, I know.” Did he know? I hoped more than anything he did. I should have told him daily since I’d figured it out myself. I shouldn’t have let myself be scared by it.

He rocked back, more violently this time. His eyes became hazy before they rolled in his head, and his body weight sagged into my arms. It took me a second to realize he was no longer conscious. “Shit.” I backed him up and lowered him onto the bed, reaching for my phone only to find it was no longer in my pocket. “Anders. Wake up.” I shook his shoulder, at first lightly, then slightly more desperately. “Anders. Please. Please, open your eyes.” I needed to run downstairs and get it so I could call an ambulance, but I couldn’t leave him until I knew he was conscious. I was paralyzed by the fear that if I left him right now, even if it was just for a minute, I’d lose him forever.

Finally, his closed lids flickered a little. “Jonah.” He gasped.

It shouldn’t have hurt as badly as it did. “Anders, it’s me, Beck. You’re going to be okay…you’re going…”

“Jonah,” He whispered again. “I love you.”

It felt like my heart had been grabbed out of my chest. This whole time, I thought he'd been talking to me, begging me to stay, telling me he wanted more time with me, but he had been talking to a ghost instead. A ghost that, at this moment, I would go to the depths of hell to eradicate from Anders’ memory. I hated Jonah. I hated that he'd done this to Anders. Hated that he’d pulled him into this darkness and left him to crawl out of it alone. I wouldn’t let Anders suffer the same fate Jonah had. I wouldn’t hold him as he died. I would fight for his life, and we would come out victorious. Then, I would make sure Anders got the help he needed. I would be by his side for all of it.

I took a deep, grounding breath, allowing myself just a moment to recenter my thoughts and focus on all the research I had done shortly after I found out about Anders’ addiction. Anders had been a child when he watched Jonah die. He was unprepared, alone, and lost. He would never be any of those things again.

Laurel’s footsteps sounded in the hall, and half a moment later, she appeared in the doorway. “Hey…” Her eyes widened as she took in Anders, motionless on the bed beside me.

“Give me your phone.”

“What is it? What happened?”

“I found him like this. I think he overdosed.” She opened her mouth to speak, but I powered on. “Look, we don’t have much time. I need you to give me your phone, then run upstairs. In the inside pocket of my duffle, there are two little white bottles in blister packaging. I need you to bring them to me as quickly as possible.”

She nodded before turning on her heels and bolting from the room. I took one last deep breath and brought the phone to my ear.

“911, what is your emergency?”