14

 

Head spinning, knees weak, I stumbled alongside Siyah as we took a path out of the woods. Rain and mud flooded the small road.

“We should not try to walk through that right now.” He glanced at me. “You won’t stay on your feet.”

“W–what were you doing out there?” My skirt snagged on a patch of thicket, and I nearly went down. My limbs numb with the cold, I stuck my tongue between my teeth to stop the chattering in my head. I felt Siyah’s arm along the small of my back, his hand at my hip keeping me steady. “I thought you were ahead of me. Did you see the—”

“Shh, concentrate.” The coat he held over us drummed with the driving rain. “We’re not far.”

Afraid of falling face first in the mud oozing around my ballet flats, I kept my focus on following Siyah. He led us onto the boardwalk, to his home; a place I never intended to see the inside of. Under the overhang, I shook his coat, pushing down the worry that swirled in my stomach as I watched him unlock the door to the building.

What happened to keeping your distance? Entering his home, his private place, is the last thing you should be doing.

I shook my head, this was not a social visit. The rain and cold decided for me, nothing more.

We took the service stairs up, and when he pushed through the entrance to his home, I blinked with surprise.

Spanning the length of the three empty gift shops below, Siyah’s loft was huge and mostly unused. Three quarters of the space sat unfurnished, the walls dotted with tacked-up blue prints, snapshots of the boardwalk, and hand-drawn plans. Foldable tables peppered the floor, their surfaces piled with tools and rolls of paper, books and debris from the renovation.

He turned, motioned for me to enter with a gesture. He cleared his throat. Was he nervous? “This is just the work area,” he muttered.

Seeing Siyah around Noble was one thing, but as I stood so near him in his home I looked up at the brooding tilt of his mouth and was not sure I wanted to stay. This was too close, too familiar. I needed distance. Had he always towered over me like this?

His glance sent a quake through me.

I hesitated at the threshold. “I–I think I should just go home.” Soaked to my skin, the frigid water sapped all of my strength and I shivered in the middle of a puddle in his kitchen. “I can call—”

“The road to the harbor is blocked by a tree,” Siyah said as he walked ahead of me to his bedroom. “We could try the East road around the other way, but your cut looks bad, Raven. For now, the choice is the storm, or this place.”

I think I’d prefer drowning outside to this. Battered and freezing beat awkward and mortified.

“Well, Talia can come and get me if I call.” I didn’t bother to carry my cell phone on Noble, the coverage was next to nothing. “Where is your phone?” I scanned the wall of the kitchen, the side tables in the living area.

“Haven’t installed one yet,” Siyah said when he returned with a sweater and some sweat pants. “You’re not trapped, Raven, so please stop trying to escape a safe place in the storm.”

Wondering if he understood the meaning of his own words, I let it go, took the clothes, and gave him a grateful smile. In the bathroom, I fumbled to get dry while trying to keep the handkerchief to the cut on my forehead. I wiped the mud from my feet and his floor with my drenched skirt.

Once done, I sat on the rim of the tub, nerves wringing through my chest as I took in the dark stone sink and stained wood rafters. His entire loft was done in deep rich tones and no frills. It struck me as every bit the dwelling place of a man. Where was the boy in the sneakers and ratty t-shirt I had known? This man, this Siyah, had his own taste and it struck me that he had changed so much. Did I even know this person anymore?

Did you ever know him, given how you never suspected his betrayal?

Taking in a deep breath, I smoothed my hair and stepped out of the bathroom. Where the far side of the loft served as a work space, the opposite side was clearly his personal space. A deep burgundy and black rug spread out over polished wood-plank floors. Dark leather chairs flanked a wall of built-in book shelves that rose to the ceiling.

“There is a first aid kit here, I know it.” Rummaging through his kitchen drawers and cabinets, Siyah looked up. “Keep pressure on that.”

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to ignore the throbbing of my head. “The branch grazed me, that’s all.”

“Just…” He looked over, his brow furrowed with concern. Walking over to me, he grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Please sit down, Raven.” His voice was low, measured. “You’re shivering. I do not want you to fall and hurt yourself further.”

Being so near him, feeling his warm hands on my shoulders sent my heart fluttering. I tore my gaze from his, fidgeted with the blanket, and hoped the heat that rose to my face wasn’t as obvious as I feared. The idea of him getting any closer sent my heart tumbling. This was a bad idea.

“It hardly hurts at all, Siyah,” I said. “Please don’t—”

“The branch hit you hard enough to draw blood and knock you down. When the storm passes, I’m taking you to get that looked at.”

“Uh…I don’t believe it’s that bad.” I couldn’t let him take care of me, couldn’t let my heart latch on to the ridiculous hope that his concern came from something I’d given up on long ago.

Siyah pressed his lips in a thin line, his gaze holding mine.

I put my hand up in surrender. “I will apply pressure,” I said and gave him a reassuring smile. “See?”

Siyah looked at me for a second longer, and then went back to his search.

A brick wall divided the kitchen and work areas. The small table sitting against it looked handmade.

I ran a palm over the surface feeling the ripples of the flamed oak. My grandfather used to do woodwork like this, and I admired it as I took a seat. Huddled in the wool blanket, the numbness left my fingers and the trembling stilled.

His stern face and hurried movements made me nervous, and I stood again, walking to peer out the windows that ran the length of the far wall. I leaned against the sill listening to the rain drum against the glass. On the second floor, I had a view of the carnival rides, the boardwalk, and the forest beyond.

“Still can’t sit for more than a few moments.” It was a statement, not a question. Siyah walked over to me and held up a white metal box. “Will you at least stay put long enough for me to do this?”

“Doesn’t this seem a little overboard?” I asked, but followed him to the large chair next to the books. “It probably—” Pulling the handkerchief from my scalp, I caught sight of the amount of blood, and a wave of heat rushed over me. My vision grayed at the edges, and I swayed. Was all that from me?

Siyah’s arm slipped around my waist, and he helped me into the chair. Kneeling in front of me, he set the first aid kit on my lap.

“That is why I wanted you to be seated,” he said.

He squinted, his attention on the injury as he brushed hair back from my forehead. His touch sent a ribbon of heat across my skin.

Ramrod straight in the chair, my hands around the first aid box, I let my gaze trace the contour of his jaw, across his full lips, and marvel at the depth of blue in his eyes. An ache seized my throat, a loss so deep it was difficult to breathe. I pulled in a shuddering sigh and he stilled, sinking back on his heels to look at me.

“Are you all right?”

I nodded quickly, blinking back the sting of tears in my eyes. “I don’t understand how I can feel so lost back here,” I whispered. “This was my home.”

His jaw tightened and he nodded silently, his gaze on the roll of tape in his hands. Siyah smoothed the bandage against my skin and stood, taking the box from me and striding back into the kitchen. Standing with both his hands on the counter, he lowered his head, his eyes closed. Intensely private, he would do that when we were together when he was troubled. Back then, though, I had not been the reason for his dark thoughts.

Why had I said that? My thoughts clashed against each other as I reminded myself that those kinds of confessions were for friends, and he’d told me himself, friends was something we could never be. I bit my lip, concentrating on my wringing fingers.

“Sonja needs me now,” I added as if that would make the painful silence disappear. “I think for a little bit, anyway.”

“I am sorry about your sister’s loss,” he said quietly. “But I am more concerned with how you are faring here.”

I did not expect his words or the concern in his voice.

“I’m fine.”

“And your father? I saw what he did at the bonfire. How can—”

“I’m fine,” I repeated, my voice cracking.

“Raven…” His gaze met mine, held it, and I couldn’t look away.

Instead, I gathered the blanket around me tighter, sliding into its depths until it blocked me from his line of sight. The warmth of Siyah’s home seeped in, stilling my shivering, and I bit my lip to keep from crying. Forcing calm into my voice, I changed the subject. “You have a nice home, Siyah.”

“I just live here,” he murmured after a moment and strode over. Sinking into the leather chair opposite me, he seemed tired, burdened. Looking around, lips tight, his gaze settled back to mine. “There is nothing here that makes it a home.”

“No, it’s…” At a loss for words, I rubbed a rivet in the chair’s leather. “It’s what I imagined for you.”

“Have you?” His guarded expression gave nothing away, and I searched in vain for a hint of what he was thinking.

“Have I what?”

“Imagined what life was like for me here?”

Siyah’s sudden lunge into so sensitive a subject took me by surprise, and I stared back at him, my mouth working. “I–I mean…”

He sank back in the chair, long arms dangling over the sides, hands fisted. Letting his head fall back, he stared at the ceiling with a heavy sigh. “I am sorry.”

Moments passed, seemingly endless seconds of silence before I gathered the courage to say what was on my mind.

“I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.” My words, barely audible, forced a frown from him and he sat up.

“That was a problem long before you left.” Sorrow darkened his eyes. “And I am the one who should be sorry, for everything.”

I shook my head, unable to think of what to say. A shard of pain shot across my skin, and I winced, my hand going to the bandage.

“You are not fine.” Siyah leaned forward in his chair. A flicker in the sky outside the window flashed across his features lighting up his eyes. “Not even close, Raven.”

“Leave me alone.” I stood, fighting the lightheadedness that assaulted me, determined to escape the tumble of my heart that came with being near him.

“You should—”

“I know what I should do,” I interrupted, avoiding his gaze. “I’ve always known what I am supposed to do, Siyah.” I wanted to be furious. I wanted to rail at him and throw things as I would have before. Instead, my insides quavered with all the loss and sorrow and loneliness of years spent in exile. It nearly shook me to pieces where I stood.

He didn’t answer, didn’t move.

I could not bring myself to face him. Concentrating on a single row of framed photos that hung on the wall opposite the bookshelves, I wandered over to them. Black and white, they were of places around Noble Island. Crescent Point, the moon shaped rock formation framing the rising sun, a view of the sky through the canopy of oaks, waves spraying over the jetty at Black Shore beach; all of them held memories for me, for us. The last one gave me pause. Larger than the others and set off from them by foot, an image of a scarred tree trunk filled the frame. Lips parted with surprise, I froze as the image of him in bandages flashed behind my eyes.

And then he was behind me, his breath against my ear. Startled, I jumped, but his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight in my blanket cocoon.

“So I don’t forget that everything can change in one careless moment,” Siyah whispered. “It was not until that accident that I realized my actions cost our future.”

“You…” A sob escaped my throat, and I buried my face in the blanket, my knees giving way. He clutched me tighter, his breath warm against my neck.

A knot pulled through me and all the resolve to keep a brave front dissolved in his embrace. “I’m just tired. I just need to rest and I’ll be fine—”

“Don’t tell me you’re fine when I can see that you are not.” His voice was harsh, the emotion in it raw. “Why did your father behave like he did? What are you not telling me?”

“It’s nothing. It’s between my father and me.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest vibrating against my shoulders. “Tell me the truth, Raven.”

Shaking my head I tried to pull away, but he kept me close. “Siyah, let me go.”

“Tell me…” he lifted his chin, tracing the shell of my ear with the tip of his nose. “Why are you really back?”

“What are you doing?” I whispered, longing and fear vaulted in my chest, but I pushed it down, wanting nothing more than to be here, with him holding me.

“Losing my way, I think…” Siyah loosened his hold and I turned, facing him, barely able to draw a breath.

“I told you why I returned—”

“But why now, of all possible moments?” Heat and loss flitted behind his slate eyes. They had darkened with his mood. He stroked his thumb along my cheekbone and shook his head, his brows furrowed. “There must be a reason behind all this, but what…” The words faded on his lips and he sighed, stepping away from me and rubbing his face with both hands. “I apologize, putting my hands on you, that was…you’re not for me to—”

“Tell me about your plans,” I interrupted. Breathless and desperate to put space between us, I strode towards the work area, dropping the blanket on the couch as I went. “Nalla said there was trouble?”

“Raven—”

“She said something about trouble with workers here?” I glanced in his direction, praying he would follow my example.

Please just pretend that didn’t happen, Siyah. For once, just let something go.

Siyah didn’t move. He stood still, waiting.

I ground my teeth, frustrated. If he insisted on either silence or soul wrenching discussion, then I could resist speaking just as well as he. I took a turn round the work tables, touching the tools, flipping a paper over, pulling the trigger on a drill just to hear it whir. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shove his hands in his pockets and bite back a sigh. Much more in control now, he surprised me with patience I never thought him capable of. And still, the hurt and anger I’d fought to suppress for five years threatened to boil over and sear us both, so I kept my words to myself. Distance, I needed space between us.

You moved across the country, as far as you could go, and still did not escape thoughts of him every day.

“I can never make up for how I hurt you,” Siyah said quietly.

I froze, the ache in his voice cutting through me.

“But I hope you know how much I wish I could take back all the pain I caused.”

Hands gripped onto the table edge in front of me, I shook my head. “I’m not talking about this, Siyah.”

“Loss can change someone. It changed me.” He took a step towards me.

“Stop this, please,” I stared at the table willing him to listen.

“Do you still only see the boy that caused your pain?” Spreading his arms at his sides, he came closer. “Will I only ever be the one who failed you?”

A shudder shook me and my gaze shot to his. “Why is it that you only seem to change for others?”

He froze, pain flitting across his breathtaking features.

My anger surged, chest tightening, heat flared. “I see all you’ve done to change, Siyah.” I grabbed a stack of papers in my hand, shaking them as my voice rose. “I also see that someone else is on your arm during all of it.”

Siyah raked a hand through his hair, a ragged wave of dark locks falling into his eyes. “Maybe we should not—”

“Why wasn’t I enough,” I cried, my voice cracking. “Why couldn’t you be this man, the one I believed you could be, for me?”

“It wasn’t you,” he said, his face pained. “I was lost.”

“Lost? On Noble, surrounded by family?” I tossed the papers to the side, strode around the table with my hands balled into fists. Tears burned down my cheeks, my breath came in hitches. “You said you didn’t want any of this. That you were crushed by the weight of your future, one planned without your consent.”

“Raven, please listen to me.”

“My heart, my hopes, everything I was belonged to you,” I said, my soul tearing open like it had that night. “And you chose someone else!”

“I was young and foolish. I had no idea what I was losing.”

Hands to my cheeks, I tried to keep my face from twisting with sorrow.

“No you didn’t.” My voice shook. “Well, I know my worth now. I deserve to be more than the lesser of two options. I deserve to be loved by a man who believes there is no one in this world who can take my place in his heart.”

Siyah stepped to me, his hand going out, but I backed up. The rain sputtered to a stop and below the noise of the wind, an engine approached. Siyah glanced out the window, his face falling. I followed his gaze and as the door to the small truck pushed open, my heart throbbed with an ache that made me gasp.

Mahogany hair blowing in the wind, a basket clutched to her chest, Lenora hurried across the pavement to the door of Siyah’s loft.

When he turned to me, I spoke with a steadiness I didn’t feel. “That doesn’t seem to be something you are capable of doing,” I said, my anger suddenly gone cold. I couldn’t hurt any more, not unless I was willing to crumble apart again. Losing Siyah nearly destroyed me. I wouldn’t survive it again.

“I’ll ask her to leave.”

He moved past me to the door, but I reached out and snagged his sleeve. “I get to say it this time,” I whispered.

“Raven,” he said, his dark eyes rimmed with red as he fought for control. “Don’t do this.”

“This is over,” I said.

Siyah flinched as if I’d hit him, but didn’t stop me as I turned and walked out the door.

Lenora passed me on the stairs, her young face registering surprise, and then anger, before she glanced up to the loft door, worry wrinkling her brow. “Siyah?” She called, running up the stairs.

Stepping out into the whirlwind, I tilted my head to the sky, arms out as Noble’s cold chill tore at me. I ached to my soul, broken.

I am undone, Lord. I can’t do this anymore. I know my sister needs me, but I have no more fight, no more strength.

The resounding silence sent tears flowing.

I felt truly alone. Shaken, I hurried from the boardwalk, promising to leave Noble as soon as I could.