Love Me If You Dare

  Love Me If You Dare

  Safe Haven, Volume 2

  by Lauren Hawkeye

  Published by Lauren Hawkeye, 2014.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  LOVE ME IF YOU DARE

  Second edition. January 5, 2014.

  Copyright © 2014 Lauren Hawkeye.

  ISBN: 978-0991916610

  Written by Lauren Hawkeye.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  For Suebee, as always.

  Chapter One

  No one who had loved Ella would be happy that I’d come home.

  The memories hit me like a battering ram, one solid blow that nearly knocked off me feet as I slowly climbed out of my car, hiding behind the driver’s side door like it was a shield.

  I stood for a moment, listening to the tick of the car’s engine as it cooled. The heat of early summer in Oregon was heavy, thickening the air. Making it hard to breathe.

  I almost turned around. Almost got back in the car to leave. The only thing that kept me in place was the mental nudge that reminded me that I had nowhere else to go, not for the next few months, anyway.

  “Shit.” Raking suddenly sweaty palms through the mess of my red curls, I surveyed the yard, the house.

  It looked the same as it always had. Same stucco, same wraparound porch. Same apple tree whose sturdy branches were too close to Ella’s bedroom window.

  I shuddered and turned away from the tree, from the dappled shadows it cast on the sun-drenched lawn. There was no point diving back into those memories. This summer was going to be hard enough without remembering that.

  “Buck up, Sawyer. You don’t have a choice.” I sank my teeth into my lower lip, hoping the bite of pain would help me shake off the dread that weighed me down like two fat monkeys perched on my back.

  From down the street a car honked. It jolted me out of my reverie, and I turned to survey the boxes that were crammed into the Focus hatchback that had been a high school graduation gift from my dad.

  Ella had gotten one, too. I had no idea what had happened to hers. I’d never asked.

  “Here we go.” I decided to leave most of the boxes for later, grabbing the handle of the one suitcase that held my essentials. The hard plastic dug into the clammy flesh of my palm as I lugged it across the lawn.

  “Mom?” I called as I shoved open the front door of the house I hadn’t entered in three years. I knew no one would answer me. At seven o’clock in the evening my mother would be seated on a bar stool at Stems, the gaudy, neon-lit wine and martini bar a block away.

  Colors and smells and silence assaulted me as I stepped into the empty house. Blanching, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the door. Maybe I’d head down to Stems and pour Mom into my car, take her for something to eat. We could talk... or maybe not. Prolong the inevitable.

  I turned, headed back down the stairs to get another arm load of my stuff from the car. There was a half empty bottle of vodka in one of them, the other half consumed by my roommate and I as we celebrated finishing finals.

  To unpack my things and acknowledge that I would be here for a while, I had a feeling that I was going to need it.

  ***

  Three hours later, my back was aching. I was sweaty and my throat was dry as dust. Feeling I’d earned a break, I made my way to the kitchen and leaned into the coolness inside the fridge as I scavenged on the nearly empty shelves and found a can of root beer at the back.

  “Ella?”

  I jolted and screeched, root beer sloshing out of my can as I whirled in the direction the voice had come from.

  The woman who stared back at me with wide eyes was lost in a cloud of gin and vodka fumes. Her hair was pale red, this woman who looked so much like both my lost sister and myself and yet was nothing like either.

  “Kaylee. It’s Kaylee, Mom. I’m home for the summer, remember?” Sighing, I placed my soda on the counter and reached for a questionable dish towel to mop sticky soda off of myself before I crossed the room to help her into a chair. As I approached I saw her blink again, her vision seeming to clear as she took me in.

  “Right. Of course.” Was that disappointment that flashed across her face? It was gone before I could say for certain, but it hurt anyway. “Sorry, honey.”

  I refused to address the slip. Our family, myself included, was great at brushing things under the rug, even major things, like my dad’s unfaithfulness, my parents’ divorce.

  All the things that had been wrong with Ella. With me.

  “Have you eaten?” I felt myself slipping almost seamlessly back into the role of the good daughter as I settled Mom at the kitchen table and helped her off with her jacket. She propped her head on her hands heavily, watching me with a hint of puzzlement on her face.

  “No.” Her voice was vague, which meant that she couldn’t remember. I sighed, then started opening the cupboards, searching for food.

  I winced when I realized that most of them were bare.

  “Mom, when’s the last time you went grocery shopping?” I sank my teeth into my lower lip as soon as the words slipped past my mouth.

  It was clear that she hadn’t gone for a very, very long time. The cupboards were empty, but there were boxes of empty bottles at the back door.

  If I’d been here...

  I shook the thought out of my head immediately. If I let myself, I’d spiral into a never ending circle of that game, and would find the entire sense of self that I’d fought to obtain in college going right down the drain.

  “I’m going to make you some soup.” A spark of resentment that hadn’t been there three years ago flared to life inside of me as I located a small saucepan and rinsed the dust out of its depths. The back of one cupboard revealed two cans of tomato soup, both expired but only just.

  Until I could go to the store the next day, it would have to do. I set one into the electric opener and thumped the other down by the sink to be thrown away, knowing that mom likely wouldn’t eat much.

  I hadn’t had supper either, but I didn’t have much appetite.

  “S’good to have you home, baby.” My mom muttered as I slid a bowl of soup in front of her. She swirled the spoon into the bowl, lifting it and watching the stream of red fall back down as I swallowed past my irritation.

  I wanted to ask who she was talking to this time—myself or my dead sister— but refrained. The old Kaylee would never have had the guts or even the need to ask that—but then, the old Kaylee had been the good daughter, the dutiful one who followed her mess of a family around, sweeping up the disaster that they left behind.

  Ella—Ella would never in a million years have catered to our drunken mother. She would have let her wake up the next morning in a puddle of her own puke as a lesson.

  But as I stared at my mom, as my past and my present collided, I knew I would never have been able to do that. I still couldn’t. But I had been gone for three years, and I was a different person now.

  ***

  It took half an hour for my mom to eat part of her soup and for me to haul her upstairs and into bed. Exhausted, I closed the door behind her and collapsed on the top stair.

  How did she manage when I wasn’t here?

  Scrubbing my hands over eyes that were painfully dry, I thought about how hard I’d tried to escape all of this at school. How I’d tr
ied to be someone different.

  But now I was back, and it was impossible to sit here and not fall back into some of my old habits. The ones that had made me so different from the twin who had been full of life.

  Though we’d been fraternal twins, Ella and I had still looked enough alike to give people pause, even our parents from time to time. My hair was bright copper, and hers had been a paler shade of gold kissed with rose. I’d been taller, slimmer—when we’d hit puberty, she was the one who’d gotten the curves.

  Though we both had the same wide caramel colored eyes and rosy toddler cheeks, she’d looked infinitely more innocent than I had.

  But she was the one who had been more wicked. She’d been the trouble maker to my good girl. The fun one. To the people of this town—to my family—I was the twin who was just... less.

  In my pocket Muse blasted, making me jolt and sending the dancing dust motes and the memories flying.

  THIBODEAU, JOEL.

  Pinching my lips together, I lowered my voice as I answered, though I didn’t quite know why—when mom was sleeping off a bender, an airplane could land in our house and she’d be none the wiser.

  “Hey.” I forced a smile to my lips, hoping that it would be reflected in my voice. “Sorry I didn’t call earlier, I was unloading the car.”

  This was my attempt to deflect the guilt trip that I knew was on its way. But I was unsettled enough by being back in this house that I hadn’t wanted to face the accusation that would have been woven into the fabric of Joel’s voice when I called.

  From the other end of the line I heard a stilted sigh, then the voice that, after two years, was nearly as familiar to me as my own.

  “I figured as much.” Joel’s voice was part of what had attracted me to him—it was smooth, cultured, like the nice wine that always sounded better than it tasted, at least to me.

  “Sorry.” I winced as I apologized again. Though we were currently in the off-again stage of our long relationship, I always felt the need to apologize to him.

  Though I didn’t say it, we both knew I was apologizing for more. I was saying sorry for the fact that, even after two years, I wasn’t able to commit to him for any length of time. That I couldn’t dredge up any feelings for him beyond friendship.

  “I’m just glad you’re there okay. That’s a long drive by yourself.” I knew Joel would have driven out here with me if I’d let him, whether we were on or off. He truly cared about me—truly loved me.

  I wished that I could love him back. Joel was safe. Joel was from a good, solid family, on his way to law school, didn’t even drink. He’d be able to give me a good life. I was even attracted to him—hell, he was hot, with a baby face, thick brown hair, and a body that he kept fit in the gym at school.

  But the attraction that I felt for him was like... it was like lemonade on a hot summer day when what you really craved was the wicked punch of a strong margarita. He satisfied the thirst, but since I’d once had a taste of the combination of salt, of tangy lime, of tequila all together, I’d never be happy with anything else. This was why, after so much on and off, I’d finally told Joel that we were done for good last week.

  I don’t think he’d believed me, since we’d been back and forth so much throughout the course of our relationship. But I meant it.

  He deserved better than I could give him. He deserved someone who wasn’t still hopelessly thirsting for a taste of that margarita.

  I struggled to shove the boy who represented that drink from my mind. Dylan wasn’t going to be happy I was back, any more than I was.

  “So. What did you get up to today?” I asked, pulling at a loose thread in the hem of my tank top. Joel was one of those rare ones who had gone to school close to home. He’d hoped that I’d be sticking close again this summer, and had made no secret of the fact that he’d love it if I turned our relationship back to “on”.

  “Went into the office.” Joel worked for his dad in the summers, doing whatever needed to be done at the legal office to gain experience.

  I frowned.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to start until next week. Isn’t he going to give you a break at all?”

  I could picture the shrug that accompanied the noncommittal grunt.

  “I don’t have anything else to do. Thought I might as well get started.” There was no accusation overt in Joel’s voice, but I knew it was there, hidden beneath that smoothness in his tone.

  “Joel, I couldn’t find a job there this summer.” My words were a bite, the sharp edges honed from being home. “You think I’d have come back here if I’d had a choice?”

  There was a tense pause. I drummed my fingers on the hardwood of the steps with irritation.

  “I don’t know anymore, Kaylee, what you would or wouldn’t do.”

  I felt as though he’d slapped me across the face, though his words weren’t anything he hadn’t said to me before.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?’ I knew what it meant, knew exactly, but somehow needed him to say it. In this house things were always hidden away, buried beneath.

  It was my small way of rebelling, of fighting back in a way that I couldn’t usually manage when underneath this roof.

  “It means that no matter how much I think I know you, I really don’t.” To his credit, Joel didn’t sound overly bitter—just tired. A fist squeezed my heart, knowing that I’d done that to him.

  “Joel...” I started, then halted as panic overtook me. Joel and my best friend Serena had been the only two constants in the last few years of my life, the only people who truly loved me for me.

  But could I even make that claim, when neither of them knew about Ella? When neither of them knew that the Kaylee I was at school back in New Haven, Connecticut—the party girl, the good time girl, the girl who existed to wring the most out of life—wasn’t really me at all?

  At school I wore my sister’s attitude like a dress that I never took off. In that way she never died... and I never had to deal with the fact that I was the reason she was gone.

  “Don’t say it.” There was that tiredness again, painting his voice a deep shade of blue. My heart was heavy as I listened to the man who had never really stood a chance with me. “Let’s just leave it. We’ll talk in a few days.”

  “Joel, remember what we agreed. This is done. We can be friends, but that’s it.” My own words were quiet. “Maybe, until we get used to it, we shouldn’t talk for a while.”

  There was a long moment of silence.

  “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” Joel’s tone was laced with something I couldn’t quite understand as we ended the call, and as I sat on that top step, my fingers turning my phone over and over.

  My heart thumped with the finality of it, but I knew it was the right decision. Being back home, with the ghost of my sister hanging over my shoulder, I knew that I wasn’t in a place to be with anyone.

  I’d never be able to be with Joel in the way that he deserved, and there was a damn good reason why. Three years ago that reason had been over six feet tall, lean and with a smile that made me want things I didn’t understand.

  “Aaaah!” I screamed softly into my hands, trying to shake away the memory.

  Thoughts of Dylan McKay never did me any good.

  For a long moment I sat on that step, tears threatening, feeling more sorry for myself than I ever had in my life. Who was I kidding? I was Kaylee, the less exciting Sawyer twin, the good girl, the one who got into trouble the one time she tried to let herself go.

  Except... that description didn’t sit quite right anymore. I might have gone to college determined to channel my twin, but over the last three years some of her wildness had knit itself into my own personality.

  I wasn’t content to stay home and fade into the silence of this ghostly house.

  If I was back at school, what would I have done?

  I stood abruptly as the answer came to me, brushing my dusty palms over the thighs of my jeans.

  T
he Kaylee I was at school—the Kaylee that I now was, full stop—wanted to seek out some company. I wanted music and the cacophony of people.

  I wanted a party.

  My fingers suddenly slick with dampness from the need to get away, to get out, I pulled up the contact list on my phone and scrolled through it until I found who I was looking for. Caroline Chase was the only person in Fish Lake that I’d kept in contact with, the only person Id been friends with three years ago that I could stand to be around now. We weren’t close by any stretch of the imagination, but she was one of those friends who could pick up where we’d left off, no questions asked.

  Spurred on by the need to escape the suddenly stifling air of the house that was crammed with memories, I tapped out a quick text.

  Hey Caro. Back in town for the summer. Anything going on tonight?

  I expected her to get back to me quickly, and I wasn’t disappointed—the girl was even more attached to her phone than I was to mine.

  Girl! Gotta see you! Nate and I r having a party right now. UR welcome to come, but not really your scene. Want to catch up tomorrow?

  I scowled for a moment. Not really my scene? Back in New Haven I was the party queen. I might have gone out so much because I was seriously messed in the head, but no one else knew that.

  I calmed down after a moment. The Caroline that I texted and emailed with hadn’t seen me in person in over three years. She had no idea how much I’d changed.

  She would have no idea how a few hours back in this town was making wanting to stay the same.

  Rising to my feet, I hurried back to my room to change, typing out a text as I went.

  A party sounds perfect. C u there.

  A party at Caroline and Nate’s meant beer, loud music, and people. Lots of people. I could have a drink, dance, forget my problems for a while.

  It was risky, since Caroline and Nate had been part of the group that Ella had hung out with. But I had no idea if Dylan McKay was even still in town.

  If I couldn’t even face the room where the tragedy had happened yet, then I sure wasn’t ready to face him. But I was going crazy, trapped here in this house.