Life After Taylah Read online

  I look over to see the lot of them staring at us, all the men with angry expressions.

  “I agree,” Kelly grunts. “Move it. Now.”

  Liam rises to his feet, his eyes on Jacob’s arm. “You touchin’ her harshly, you cocksucker?”

  Typical Liam. He goes right in for the kill.

  “I’m speaking to her,” Jacob says, but his hand drops again. “It’s none of your business.”

  “It’s my fuckin’ business if you’re touchin’ her like that,” Liam snarls.

  “It’s okay,” I say to Liam, meeting his angry blue gaze. “I’m okay. I promise.”

  He holds my stare, but slowly lowers back onto his chair. I turn back to Jacob. “You should leave now. This is going to get out of hand soon. I’m okay; I’ll be home soon.”

  “Your dad isn’t going to be happy about this,” he snaps.

  “I don’t honestly care,” I say, telling the one hundred percent truth.

  “You should care,” he growls, looking over to Liam and then back to me. “Your momma would be ashamed.”

  “What the fuck did you just say?” Liam roars, leaping from his chair.

  My eyes instantly go to Macy, to make sure she’s okay. I see her curled up on a blanket, sleeping. This isn’t a scene for a little girl. Kelly reaches out for Liam, and I snap my eyes back in their direction. Liam leaps—I kid you not—over the small fire and charges towards Jacob. Nate stands, wrapping an arm around Jacob’s chest and hurling him back. Liam might be smacked up on steroids but Nate is a strong man, stronger even than him.

  I turn to Jacob. “How dare you,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

  “I’m only saying the truth! You don’t even know if she’s alive or dead and this is how you’re respecting her? By flirting, by mistreating your father whom she loved?”

  “Go home,” I bite out.

  He leans in close. “You better be there soon.”

  He turns, lifts his bag and glares at Liam, who is still struggling in Nate’s grips, and then storms up to his car. When it speeds off, I turn to Liam. He’s watching me, his hands shaking. It hurt him, those comments. He loved Momma as much as me, and it broke him just as much when she went missing. Jacob knew that, and that’s why he said it.

  “It’s not true, Li,” I say. “He knows nothing.”

  Liam shoves Nate off him, takes his drink and walks off down the beach. “I’ll go after him,” Kelly says, standing and giving me a warm smile.

  I turn back to Nate and Lena. The other few mates of Kelly’s are minding their own business, pretending like none of that just happened.

  “I’m going for a walk.”

  I turn and walk off in the opposite direction of Kelly and Liam. The sand is soft beneath my toes, and the cool night air has come out, crisp as ever. I wrap my arms around myself and walk, just taking the chance to calm down. Jacob had no right to say those things, and I fear going home and facing him. He’s going to be angry, he’s going to make my father angry, and that’s something I don’t want to deal with.

  I find a spot on a slight dune, and sit down. I stare out at the ocean, listening to the waves crash against the shore. It’s a clear night out, and the stars are shining brightly. “You okay?”

  I turn to see Nate, two beers in hand, standing beside me. He sits down and hands me one. I look around him to see if Lena is here, but he’s alone.

  “Where are Lena and Macy?”

  “Gone home. Macy is tired.”

  I nod and take a sip of the beer.

  “So, are you okay?” he asks again.

  “I’m okay. I just needed a minute.”

  “He always like that?” he asks, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

  “Those will kill you.”

  He grins at me, showing me perfect white teeth. I smile back.

  “There are worse things.”

  “Don’t I know it.?”

  “So,” he says again, “is he always like that?”

  “Mostly,” I sigh.

  “Why do you do it then?”

  I shrug. “I can’t explain it without sounding completely whacked.”

  He leans back. “Try me.”

  “Well, he’s close to my father, and my father is the only family I have left. The business is important to him and Jacob’s dad is his closest partner. Because Liam can’t take it over, Jacob will inherit both. I’ve known Jacob my whole life; it seems the right thing to do. We dated when I was younger and then it ended.

  “After . . . my mother went missing . . . my dad changed. He shut down. I guess Liam and I were all he had. He set me up with dancing; he pays for every cent of it. I don’t know—I feel like I’m letting him down if I walk.”

  “You can’t be with someone forever just because your father wants it.”

  “He’s all I have, Nate. What else am I to do?”

  “Live,” he offers. “Love.”

  “And leave him to do what?”

  “Figure it out on his own.”

  I shake my head and look at my fingers. “She went missing when I was just thirteen years old,” I whisper.

  “Your momma?”

  “Yeah. She smiled at us as we walked out the door for the bus and we never saw her again. They searched; they investigated. All they ever found was her car on an old abandoned road. No clues. No blood. Nothing. She just vanished. That was ten years ago.”

  “I’m sorry, Avery,” he says, softly. “I don’t know how that would feel.”

  “People think it’s something that only happens in movies or in books. I mean, how can a person just go missing? There are so many theories. One is that she stopped to help someone—which is something my mother would do—and she was taken. The other is that she has taken her own life and they never found the body—maybe she jumped into a lake or the ocean. It’s unlikely; she was happy. The third is that she is alive somewhere, and not wanting to be found. That hurts more than all of them.”

  “What do you think?” he asks.

  “I think something happened to her, I just don’t know what. She wouldn’t leave us. She was one of those mothers—the ones who live for their children.”

  “Do they still look?”

  I nod. “The investigation will always be open, I suppose. If they have leads, they investigate them. We’re kept in the loop as much as possible. The police have come to know our family very well.”

  “I can imagine.”

  We sit in silence for a long while.

  “Liam is hurt,” I say. “So hurt. He hates my father—he thinks Dad favors me. It’s not like that. I try to stand by my father because I know how hurt he is. I don’t like it though, not one bit. He hardly speaks to me. There is no emotion left in him. I’m scared if I walk away and don’t do as he wants, that he’ll just break for a final time.”

  “Now it makes sense,” he murmurs.

  I turn to him, but he keeps speaking.

  “You think if you don’t do what your father wants, you’re letting him down. You’re scared it’ll be the end of him, because he won’t be able to cope.”

  I turn back and stare at the ocean.

  “You can’t live like that, Avery. It’s not fair to you.”

  “I’m fine with it, Nate. I care about Jacob.”

  “Is that the truth?”

  I turn to him. “Yes.”

  It’s not.

  He sighs and drops it. “All this sadness calls for only one thing.”

  I look at him as he stands and stretches his hand out towards me.

  “What?” I ask, hesitating.

  “The best thing for sadness . . . is dancing.”

  I shake my head and roll my eyes. “No way.”

  “Come on, Dancer, I swear it’ll make you smile. Don’t let all this ruin your night.”

  “No thanks.” I laugh softly.

  “Fine, I’ll bring out the big guns.”

  He stands in front of me, and, I’m not even kidding, he begins wiggling his hips. He st
arts making sounds to match the intro of “Knee Deep.” He does a great version of an air guitar and then he slaps his thigh while spinning in circles.

  “What are you doing?” I laugh.

  “Knee deep in the water somewhere,” he sings, slapping his thighs. “Come on, Dancer!”

  I shake my head, giggling uncontrollably.

  He keeps singing the song at the top of his lungs, spinning around and waving his arms about like a lunatic. He reaches down, takes my arm and pulls me to my feet. He spins me around and I squeal. He jerks me back and we’re dancing wildly, his arms around me, our hands pointed out beside us. He struts us down the beach, and I throw my head back laughing, unable to stop the feeling of pure joy spreading through me.

  He whistles the tune as he dips me backwards and pulls me back up. Another two twirls, some more strutting and a final bow later and we’re on the sand, laughing so hard our bellies hurt. “I. Haven’t. Laughed. So. Hard. In. Forever,” I gasp, rubbing my stomach to try and ease it. There’s some serious knotting up going on.

  “I’m good for some things, it seems.” He laughs, lying back in the sand. I lay back beside him.

  “I’m kind of glad we became friends,” he admits.

  “I make a pretty good friend,” I add.

  “When you’re not sulking.”

  “Hey!”

  He laughs.

  “No shit, Dancer. I’m pretty glad I met you.”

  ~*~*~*~

  NATE

  “You’re late,” Lena says, flicking the television off as I walk in.

  “It’s only just past midnight,” I say, dropping my keys and kicking my boots off.

  “I wanted you home so we could spend some time together. Instead you sent me home with Macy and left me to sit here all night.”

  I stare at her, annoyed. “Can I ever just come in to you acting normal? Macy was tired; you didn’t ask me to come with you. You told me you would take her home. If you wanted me to come with you, then all you had to do was ask. I’m not a god damned mind-reader.”

  “I said be home by midnight.”

  “It’s quarter past!” I bark.

  She crosses her arms. “Did you stay at the beach, or did you go elsewhere?”

  I raise my brows. “You’re not going there, are you?”

  “Well, you’re late and I know how the women are with you. They see you and they go crazy.”

  “I was at the beach with the guys. There were no women.”

  “Avery is a woman.”

  I grunt. “Avery is their family.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’s not an extremely attractive woman.”

  I turn and walk down the hall. “I’m not having this conversation.”

  She mutters something, but I don’t stop to listen. I walk into the room, slam the door and sit on the bed. My heart aches. I can’t explain the feeling of coming home to a woman that makes your heart throb in the worst possible way. Depression sinks deep into my soul when I’m here, and it’s slowly eating away at me. How do you find happiness when you’re so consumed by darkness?

  I don’t know a way out.

  I’m trapped.

  CHAPTER 8

  AVERY

  Three weeks later.

  Nate: No.

  Avery: Yes.

  Nate: Dancer. No.

  Avery: Nate. Yes.

  Nate: N.O.

  Avery: Y.E.S.

  Nate: Are you always so bossy?

  Avery: Mostly. Is that a yes?

  Nate: No.

  Avery: Don’t be such a baby.

  Nate: Bite me.

  Avery: Come here so I can.

  Nate: Nice try.

  Avery: You’re being difficult.

  Nate: You would have to kill me before I dressed up like a fuckin’ ballet dancer and spun you around.

  Avery: You don’t have to dress up. I just need you to help me so I can practice.

  Nate: No.

  Avery: Fine. This friendship is over.

  Nate: I’m so heartbroken. Hold me.

  I laugh out loud.

  Avery: You’ll regret this, Nathaniel Alexander.

  Nate: I’m quaking in my boots.

  Avery: I’m going now. Probably to pick a poor homeless man off the street to beg him to be my dancing partner for the day. It could get messy.

  Nate: Stay safe. Make sure you get your Hepatitis shots.

  Avery: You’re awful.

  Nate: Call you later.

  I snap my phone closed with a smile. Damned Nate.

  For the past few weeks I’ve spent a lot of time with Nate. Our friendship is natural, easy, and carefree. There are no awkward pauses or times where I wonder if it’s forced. It just flows. We laugh, we talk, we joke—we get along so incredibly well. He tells me about his family, his wife, Macy, and his career. He’s the little bit of light in my life that I can hang on to with both hands, and not be afraid that it’ll break.

  He’s helping me find myself again.

  That’s worth hanging on to.

  ~*~*~*~

  “Jesus, Bobby!” I cry, throwing my hands up.

  My eighteen-year-old student, Bobby, stares at me with a confused expression. He’s trying to help me with my turns, but he’s just not strong enough yet. He’s been in the school two years and while he’s a great dancer, he’s just not up to the same level most dancers his age are. I don’t need a dancer, anyway; I just need someone strong to hold onto me so I can practice the moves I’m unsteady with.

  “I’m trying, Avery,” he whines, crossing his arms. “You’re like a bull in a china shop.”

  I raise my brows at him. “Do you even know what that means?”

  He gives me an are you serious look and then rolls his eyes. Sheesh.

  “It’s okay, I’ll practice on my own.”

  “Fine,” he huffs exiting through the side door.

  “That was entertaining!”

  I spin around to see Nate, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed across his chest, a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Oh, I’m glad you’re finding it entertaining. I can’t imagine you would understand how it feels to have a man who is not a man trying to help you when he can’t even hold your weight.”

  His grin widens. Damn him.

  “Don’t grin at me, Nathaniel. This is all your fault.”

  He pushes off the wall and walks in, his shoes squeaking on the polished wooden floor. He stops in front of me, looks down at my tights and grins.

  “Don’t even,” I warn.

  “Sexy, Av.”

  I cross my arms and glare at him.

  “Well, you’re clear, there’s no camel-toe.”

  I thump his arm. “You’re disgusting!”

  He laughs and takes my hand, swinging me in a circle. “So, I’m here, I have an hour. What do you want me to do?”

  I gape at him. “I thought there was no way in fucking hell you were dancing with me?”

  He shrugs. “Changed my mind. Don’t make me change it back.”

  “Fine,” I say, turning towards him. “I’m just trying to get my petit allegro right. It seems my teacher thinks my body isn’t the correct shape when I’m moving. I’ve been trying to get it right, but I need someone to hold, um, me . . . so I can get it right and focus on my posture and position.”

  “Show me where I gotta hold,” he says.

  My cheeks pinken; I can feel them right away. I didn’t think this through, because Nate will have to put his hands on me to do this. I don’t know why that bothers me, but it does. And when I say bothers, I mean the hot-and-bothered kind of way. I trust myself around Nate, and I trust him, but something about having his hands on me makes me very nervous.

  “You know,” I squeak, “I can just use the bar.”

  He raises his brows. “Hell no. You dragged me down here with a sob story about homeless men. You’re using me.”

  “O-okay. Well, you just need to stand behind me.”

  He
comes around behind me and I can feel his body heat against my very aware flesh. This wasn’t a good idea. Not a good idea at all.

  “A-a-and, just put your hands on my hips. When I go up, I need you to go with me, keeping the weight off my feet just a little.”

  His hands settle on my hips and I stop breathing. I literally stop breathing. I can’t focus like this, and it bothers me. It bothers me that he’s bothering me.

  “Are you going to dance any time soon?” he murmurs and his mouth is right near my ear.

  “Uh, y-y-yeah,” I stammer.

  I lift myself onto my toes, letting him test my weight.

  “I’ll do a little jump up, just test my weight, see if it’s okay with you.”

  He snorts but humors me by lifting me effortlessly when I jump.

  “Okay, smarty-pants.” I laugh.

  “Get on with it, Dancer.”

  “Bossy.”

  I close my eyes, raise my arms and begin moving my legs. It’s the only move I can’t seem to execute gracefully. I’ve done it from the start and I’ve practiced a lot. I’m nearly there, it’s nearly perfect, but to teach it I have to make sure it’s exactly how I want my students to do it. Nate lifts me as I move, almost as though he knows exactly when my body is going to jump. It’s effortless and smooth, and he’s extremely gentle.

  “I see where you’re goin’ wrong,” he suddenly says.

  I stop jumping and say, “Oh?”

  “Lower back.”

  Um, okay.

  He presses his hand to my lower back, shoving it forward just slightly. Then he drops his hand from my hip and presses it into my front, supporting the entire area of my hips. There goes my breath again. His hand is splayed out against my belly. I close my eyes. Focus, Avery.

  “Now do it again,” he commands.

  I do what he asks, and as I move he presses his hands in to keep my hips straight. The move does seem to come easier, and this surprises me. Could it be as simple as poor posture?

  “You know,” he says, letting me go. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

  I turn and stare at him. “Do I want to know?”

  He grins and winks. “You sure do.”

  ~*~*~*~

  NATE

  She stares at me, then back to the pool, then back at me again.