Maybe Old Landon isn't dead.
Maybe I could be someone who won’t disappoint her, won’t blow her heart to smithereens all over again.
But I know that’s a lie.
I know what I am.
I know what I have to do.
These stolen moments are just a brief reprieve from the harshness of reality.
Nothing more.
I’m languishing in one such stolen moment, now. I only have a day left before I’m heading down to the Bay Area again to deal with Milah. I’m soaking up as much sun and as much Kenna as I can.
We’d dozed off on the patio last night, sprawled out under the clear bright sky on the outdoor lounger, and now I’m half-asleep, drowsing and lingering on how insanely good she feels in my arms.
I don’t really want to wake up. I don't want to leave this woman. I don't want to push her away because all the bad shit puts me on my knees.
But the feeling of someone watching us puts me on high alert.
I hold completely still. Trained combat reflexes, everything I learned by fire not to let a potential enemy combatant know I’m awake and aware of their presence.
Carefully, I crack one eye open.
And then release an explosive, pent up sigh, opening both my eyes fully for the hell that's in front of me.
Steve. Sitting there on one of the patio chairs, watching us with a hangdog look.
“Jesus, Steve,” I mutter.
Oh fuck. It's sinking in.
Steve. Here. Watching. Us.
And I'm here with Kenna in my arms.
I start scrambling up, but there’s no use denying it now.
Shit! I sink back down in the lounger, while Kenna stirs sleepily, burrowing into me in that kittenish way she has. I bump her with my elbow.
“Wake up, Reb.”
“Nah...no...five more minutes...”
This is not the time for her to be this cute. “…you really want to wake up. We’ve got company. And he doesn’t look too happy.”
“Understatement of the year,” Steve growls, his voice tight.
I haven't seen him look this pissed since we lost our last game of football Senior year.
His voice doesn't match. Mostly, it sounds dejected. Worse than pissed off.
At the sound of his voice, Kenna stiffens. Her eyes go wide, and she turns a slow, dread-filled look over her shoulder – only to scramble upright, prying away from me, skittering to the other side of the lounger.
That shouldn’t sting, but it does. The truth is out.
It's too late.
Rejecting me now won’t really help.
She stares, frozen, between me and Steve, then stammers, “I-it’s not what you think...”
“Don’t. Please, Kenna,” Steve interjects quietly. “You already lied to me once. Can’t stand it again.”
That stark, heavy look in his eyes – fuck. I’d expected anger.
I hadn’t expected the open, naked betrayal on his face, or how deep it cuts me as he continues, “Melanie found the condom. You should’ve been more careful.” His jaw clenches. “Or, hey, maybe you both could’ve just told me the fucking truth instead of sneaking around behind my back, screwing around on my property..”
I close my eyes, dragging a heavy palm over my face.
Getting caught before breaking the news to my best friend was always a risk. I hadn’t expected to feel this fucking guilty.
I don’t want to feel this guilty, and it makes me snarly, though I try to rein it in. “I thought you’d be angry, and you should be,” I mutter. “Don’t be mad at Kenna. I lied to you, Steve. She just went along with it. We haven’t talked about it since.”
“Yeah. Communication isn’t your strong point,” Steve whispers flatly. “So, you're telling me you'd rather I never trusted you again than deal with me being annoyed?”
“I didn’t know it'd stop at annoyed!”
“Of course you didn’t,” Steve bites off. “Because apparently you don’t know me, and I don’t know you anymore, Landon. I love you like a brother. I love Kenna. Why the fuck would I be upset with you for being together? Why couldn’t you trust me?” That hurt in his eyes hardens. He’s hitting me like bullets, peeling me open in the way only screwing over my oldest friend can. “That's not why I'm up in your face,” he growls, coming closer.
I never thought this man had an intimidating bone in his body, but here he is: up close, eyes wide, drilling my betrayal into me. He pauses, shaking his head. “I'm not pissed off because you're with my sister. I'm livid because you couldn't come clean with me, when I'm practically the only real friend you've got.”
Fucking ouch. It stings because it isn't wrong. At Enguard, I have co-workers. Associates. Employees. Steve's the only one who's stayed with me through thick and thin. Only one local, too. I keep in touch with a few of my hardass military buddies like Gabe, but they just knew me under the stress of battle. Steve knows who I was, and what I've become.
He's talking again. “Because you can’t trust anyone, right? Not since Micah died. So you just treat everyone like they’re the enemy.”
“That’s not fair,” Kenna cuts in. “You don’t know what Landon’s been going through –”
“You’re right,” Steve answers. “I don’t. Because Landon never trusted me enough to tell me. I’ve put my faith in him all these years only to find out he can’t even trust me enough to tell me how he feels about my sister.” His fists clench and unclench. “How do you feel about my sister? Do you at least trust her, or are you just using her, too?”
Too much.
I know I’ve been a prick these past few years and Steve doesn’t really have any reason to believe in my character, but I can’t sit here while he cuts holes into me with the reminders of all the ways I’ve fucked up – until even the people I love the most can’t trust a single word I say, because I’m too damaged and broken to ever trust them.
I thrust to my feet, fists clenched tight enough that my nails dig into my palms. “Fuck this. Ask her, why don't you. Rather than talking about her like she’s not here. I’m out.”
Steve never moves. Kenna stands, pushing herself between us. Her hand rests on my arm, a reminder of that soft warmth that's been broken, dashed to pieces at my feet.
“Landon, don’t go,” she pleads, then turns to her brother, stepping toward Steve. “Please, just...just...I’m sorry. I know we should've told you the truth, but it happened on impulse. We were caught off guard. We meant to tell you everything, we just didn't have enough –”
“Time?” Steve cuts in. “Two weeks isn’t impulse, Kenna. You had plenty of time to tell me.”
Steve looks like we’ve broken something in him.
Fuck, this is so wrong.
This is all my fault. I didn’t mean to fix the rift between me and Kenna only to create one between her and her brother.
If I have to lose Steve, I’ll deal with the consequences, but I can’t be the reason for a break between brother and sister.
But before I can say anything, Kenna says, “We did. But we were...we were...” She shakes her head, losing the words. “I can’t say what we were, really. But it was selfish. Just give us a chance to explain. Please.”
“Not now,” Steve says, his voice cracking. “I can’t even look at you. It’s bad enough you lied to me, Kenna. But you.” His gaze transfers to me. “I kept giving you chance after chance, Landon. All these years of you thrusting me away. Of you lashing out. And I kept saying you just needed time. You’d be okay. You'd sort your crap out. You just needed us to be here for you.” He swallows hard. “And you just shat all over that because you couldn’t tell me the truth.” He shakes his head, stepping back. “I can’t be here right now. I just can’t.”
And then he’s walking away. Kenna makes a forlorn sound and starts after him, then stops.
She stares helplessly between us. I should go to her, comfort her, but right now I feel like if I do I’ll just poison this more. Poison her because I'm fucking toxic.
And if Steve can’t be here right now, then neither can I.