Page 14 of Trusting Skulls (Rebel Skull MC #8)

Chapter Twelve

Lexie

I hand Jesse her phone when she stands to stoke the fire.

Over the last few days, I poured all my emotions onto the pages of the journal Ash sent me.

Tonight, the four of us burned it in the fire pit.

I thought it would bring me peace, and it did, so why do I still feel like I’m on the verge of tears?

After I tossed it in the fire, Raffe stood up and threw in several pieces of paper, then Jesse did the same followed by Dirk. It eased a bit of the lonely part of my heart, but it also ratcheted up my emotions to the point of snapping.

I lean back and pull out the letter Ash wrote me, reading his postscript over and over.

P.S. I handed you a pin, hoping you might show me how it worked. You didn’t disappoint. It took everything in me not to reach out and touch you there. The place you keep hidden behind your hair. Next time, I’m not going to stop myself.

I fan my face, rubbing my hand over the back of my neck. It’s just the fire.

When my eyes lift from the page, Dirk smirks. “Want to share with the class?”

My mouth falls open, and I hug it to my chest. “No.”

“Oh, come on now. We’re all adults.”

I scan the words again, my heart beating wildly.

Will they think badly of me because of Ash’s suggestive postscript?

It’s not dirty. Not really. No, it’s definitely not.

He just wants to touch the back of my neck.

The pads of my fingers rub over the spot again.

But with my reputation they’re going to think…

Raffe taps my knee, and I look up to find him crouched in front of me. “Let’s take a walk.”

He takes the letter, folds it neatly, and then hands it back to me. Not once does he take his eyes from mine.

My hand trembles as he holds his out for me.

As soon as we step away, I glance over my shoulder. Dirk trails us with a smug look of satisfaction over his scary features. Damn it. He’s still trying to push my buttons, and he’s succeeding.

I hold Raffe’s hand tightly with both of mine, tipping my head back as we walk. He guides us effortlessly down the path. I used to walk like this with my dad when I was little. He never let me fall. It’s dizzying, but I love it.

It makes me feel like I’m floating.

After a few minutes, he stops, looking up at the twinkling lights himself.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I tell him.

“What scares you?”

He pulls us farther down the path until we come to a bench that overlooks the dark vastness of the mountains. It sends a shiver up my spine. It’s so immense.

“Between the stars and the endless view, it makes me feel a little insignificant,” I say, ignoring his question.

He takes a deep breath, patiently waiting for me to answer his question.

“My feelings are stuck in my throat, okay?”

“We don’t have to talk, but know if you’re worried about your feelings spilling over, I’m not afraid of tears.”

I know we won’t be heading back anytime soon when he drapes his arm along the back of the bench and gets comfortable.

I don’t talk or cry. I spend the entire time going back and forth with myself. Between the girl who wants to continue down the path she’s on and the one who wants something new.

Ash was flirting with me today. That’s new.

It makes me both doubt and hope simultaneously.

Ghost-touches from the past tiptoe across my skin. How do I erase them from my mind? My skin begins to crawl, and I imagine myself shouting at my demons over the canyon. How will I separate him from everyone else?

The minute a man touches me, my brain shuts off. It wasn’t always like that, but somewhere along the line my body began to reject them, and that usually ends in the night going south. Once a man has been given the go ahead, it's hard to get them to stop.

Like the night with Jason and Matt.

I close my eyes. Why am I even thinking about that night? It’s insignificant in the whole of things.

This thing with Ash and me is never going to work, and I don’t even know how to explain it to anyone. It would be easier to just give up.

“It’s getting chilly. We should go in,” I say quietly.

Raffe doesn’t force me to talk, though I’m sure he’s aware of the thoughts that have been racing through my mind. I appreciate that. Maybe he can sense that I’ve thrown in the towel.

When we get back inside, I chuckle because we find Jesse and Dirk coloring. Dirk’s eyebrow rises slightly as I cover my mouth.

“What are you laughing about? It’s color therapy time. Sit your ass down. If you were at a fancy treatment facility, you’d pay big money for this.”

It makes me laugh a little more. I grab one of the books and sit down on the floor beside them. Raffe plops down on the other side of Jesse and begins to help her with hers.

“Don’t you dare color outside the lines,” she teasingly warns him.

Dirk winks at him. I love how there is no jealousy between them.

“Do these belong to your grandkids?” I flip through the pages, trying to find a page that hasn’t been colored on.

“Sure do,” Jesse says. “Aurelia is obsessed with the one you have. You might have to grab a different book, because she’s probably colored on every sheet.”

My vision begins to blur as I continue to search for a blank page. I’m just like this stupid coloring book; all of my pages have been scribbled on. What does that leave Ash? Every part of me has been shaded. He should just find a new book too.

Dirk sits forward abruptly, noticing my internal melt down. “Spill it,” he orders.

I jump up and throw the book at him. “You want me to spill it? You want to know why I hate myself? Because I’m like this fucking book.”

My feet hurry up the stairs, making me trip and fall along the way. I’m thankful when I finally reach the bed. I throw myself face first on top of it.

Not even five minutes later, the bed dips.

“I want to go home,” I mumble into the pillow.

Raffe sighs.

“Never mind. I forgot I don’t have a home.”

He taps my shoulder lightly with a rolled-up coloring book. My emotions are right there, floating on the surface. I wish they would just drown me already.

“Sit up.”

My arms move at an unusually slow pace. My extremities feel weighed down by a heaviness that can’t be seen. When I’m upright, he lays the book between us, and then he offers me the box of crayons.

It’s not the book I threw at Dirk. This one has a blank page. A Disney princess stares back at me. His silent nod orders me to get busy. The second my crayon touches the paper, he begins to speak calmly as if he’s approaching a wild animal.

“Each color you choose represents someone who’s touched you intimately.”

The tip of the crayon breaks off under the pressure of my hand. The deep purple smudge it leaves makes my stomach turn. My first …

His icy eyes trail me as I walk around the pool. They’re warm against my cool skin. I jump into the water with no hesitation, coming up to find them still lingering on me.

My dad’s boss brushes his hands down the front of his dress pants.

I like his eyes on me.

He glances at my parents, his brows pulling together that neither of them noticed me just traipse through the house in a barely-there bikini. His eyes bounce between me and them a few times until finally they remain on me.

I’ll admit his attention frightens me a little, but it also feeds the loneliness that lives inside me.

I adjust my top. The suit was a birthday present from my parents. They don’t know that. They never ask to see the gifts they pay for. They did have a cake delivered. It’s still sitting untouched on the kitchen table two months later.

I raise my eyes, finding his hooded gaze still on me. My anxious fingers continue to blindly fumble with my swimsuit. What I’m doing feels wrong, but his attention feels so good.

I’m certain he hasn’t heard a word of what my father is saying as I wrap a towel around myself and head inside, walking past them. Since he’s still watching me, I give him a small wave in greeting. When he smiles in return, my heart skips a beat.

Again, neither of my parents even notice me.

Before I slip down the hallway, his deep voice glides across the room, wrapping around my ankles and halting my footsteps. “I’m jealous of your pool,” he tells my parents. “I’ve always wanted one.”

“You’re free to use it anytime you want. Just let me know, and I’ll have Lexie let you in,” my father says without hesitation. His nose is so far up his boss’s ass.

I glance over my shoulder realizing I may have pushed my “show” a little too far. Without fear, he winks at me right in front of my parents.

He’s just flirting with me. He’s not seriously interested. The man has a hot wife. There’s no way he wants my gangly ass. I’m delusional.

Two days later I found out I was, in fact, not delusional. He didn’t seem to mind I was an awkward inexperienced teenager. In fact, he seemed to like teaching me new things.

I stare at the image in front of me. It looks like a toddler colored it. It’s definitely outside the lines.

Raffe points to the pile of crayons. “Next.”

I roll my eyes, but I move on to number two.

The guy I chased to ease the loneliness of losing what I thought was my first love.

After the third crayon, things start to become fuzzy.

Sometimes I remember the guy’s name, but not their face.

Sometimes it’s the other way around. A couple of times I remember nothing.

No name. No face. Only the burning feeling the next morning when I would pee.

I think those were the nights I passed out.

It becomes too much … with each color, the heavier my limbs become.

“I’m so stupid,” I choke out on a sob, curling up into a little ball.

Raffe places his hand at the back of my head. “No, Lexie. You may have done stupid things, but you yourself are not stupid.”

“There’s nothing left for Ash. If I had known I’d meet someone like him, I would’ve waited.” But I can’t take any of it back. Their fingerprints have permanently stained me.

I can’t blame anyone but myself. I gave every piece of me away. No one has been more cruel or reckless with my body than me.

When I finally settle myself, he removes his hand from my head and then tips my chin. He holds the page I colored in front of my face. “Here’s a new way of looking at this. You’ve had a lot of colorful experiences. It doesn’t matter if they were good or bad. Wrong or right. They are yours.”

He pauses as his soulful brown eyes bore into mine.

“Life is an endless continuation of lessons. You’ll pass as long as you don’t give up.”

His hands cover my ears, and he shakes my head gently but firmly. “Please don’t give up. I’m proof you can keep going and make a better life for yourself.”

“Okay,” I whisper, still not sure if I can do what he has. But what choice do I have? I have to keep going.

“You know what I admire about you?”

The corner of my mouth lifts a tiny bit. “I can’t imagine.”

“Stop. That’s the next thing we’re going to work on. You need to change the way you talk about yourself.”

“Are you going to tell me what you admire or not?”

He looks me in the eye, still holding my face in his hands. “I’m proud of you for taking responsibility for your actions. You never try to put the blame on your parents, or anyone else for that matter.”

I’ve been trying to tell them that I’m the problem. It’s all on me. I’m the one who led myself down the path of regret. I’m glad to see he agrees.

“But believe me when I say the blame lies at their feet.”

I shake my head to argue. This is not where I thought this was going, but he holds me still.

“Listen to me. Your parents neglected you. You hear me? You should not have been alone. It left you vulnerable and emotionally deprived. They should have gone to jail for it. Maybe they still should.”

The thought terrifies me. I don’t want them to go to jail. I love them.

His eyes soften, but he continues to be firm with me. “And anyone who knowingly took more than you were willing to give, they deserve the same fate.”

My entire body tenses, because that’s not what I want. “I just want something different. I don’t want to live that life anymore, but I certainly don’t want anyone to get in trouble for my own stupidity.”

He grimaces. “The choice is yours. But if you’re going to let everyone else get away shame free, then you have to give yourself the same grace.” His hands fall away. “That’s the deal.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Whose deal?”

“The people who are going to look out for you from now on. Your new family.”

“And what if Ash and I don’t work out?”

“Makes no difference, but he’s part of this family too. So if you and Ash ever end, it better be amicably.”

His words give my heart a little pang of anxiety. An end means there’s a beginning.

Have Ash and I really begun?