Still Beating
: Part 2 – Chapter 17

T H R E E   Y E A R S   E A R L I E R

Mandy’s fingers are dancing across my knee under the table, making their way up my thigh. I catch her hand before it makes contact and shoot her a wink.

Little minx.

The Oar is noisy with rowdy patrons watching the game, slinging back beers and shouting obscenities at the big screen TVs. Cora and Brandon sit across from us, making googly eyes at each other as they try to decide on an appetizer. My friend, Reid, stops by the table with his new girlfriend to chat, while a waitress appears to collect our orders and refill our drinks.

Life is good.

I have a beautiful woman who I think I want to marry someday, job security, a new townhouse, and pretty damn good friends. I’m not sure why it hits me in that moment, hanging out at our favorite bar on a random Friday night in the middle of winter, but as laughter fills my ears and Mandy’s hand presses warm against my thigh, I feel content.

“Do you think the waitress is hot?”

Reid says his goodbyes and I turn to Mandy, who is leaning on her palm and twirling a piece of light blonde hair around her finger. “Huh?”

“Her boobs are really big. And her extensions look great.” Mandy puckers her lips with a sigh, deep in thought.

“You’re crazy. I didn’t even notice her.”

It’s true—I didn’t. Cora is convinced I sleep around because I’m a ‘giant jerk face’, and I guess cheating goes along with being a giant jerk face, but the truth is, I’ve only ever been with Mandy. We were each other’s firsts when I was a sophomore and she was a junior, and we’ve been together ever since. We took a three month break in college, but I still never strayed. It didn’t feel right.

Honestly, the only other woman I’ve ever even thought about in that way is Cora… which is a secret I’ll take to my grave. Neither of them can ever know I had eyes for Cora Lawson first when she ambled into English class as a doe-eyed freshman, radiating innocence and lavender.

The Lawson sisters are still the two most beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes on, and one of them is currently glaring at me from across the table.

“What?” I question, leaning back in my chair. “Is my breathing getting on your nerves?”

“That’s a given,” she shrugs. “And you’re such a liar. You obviously noticed the waitress.”

“I didn’t, and why would you assume that?”

“Because you’re a straight male.” Cora pauses, a wicked gleam settling in her green eyes. “Well… that’s up for debate, I suppose. We can’t forget that embarrassing incident with your college buddy last year.”

I can’t believe she went there. “You mean when you slipped me your dad’s Viagra after I mentioned I had a headache? Real cute, Corabelle. I thought it was Advil.”

She almost spits her drink out as she erupts with laughter. Damn her. That was the most humiliating night of my life, and I still have no idea how I’m going to get her back for it. Everything I think of falls short.

The waitress returns with our wings and cheese fries, and I keep my hard gaze on Cora, refusing to humor her with even the tiniest glance in the waitress’ direction. But I can see Brandon out of the corner of my eye practically drooling into his craft beer.

“Anything else I can get for you guys?”

“Nope,” I say, still staring at Cora.

She narrows her eyes at me.

The waitress walks away, and I reach for the wings, dipping one of them into the little cup of ranch dressing that was set in front of me. I take a big bite…

…and literally almost Exorcist-vomit all over the table.

“What the fuck? Is this mayonnaise?”

I hate mayonnaise. Despise it. Even the smell of it makes me want to puke.

Cora’s laughter reemerges, and I zero in on the culprit. She’s getting way too good at these pranks.

“Cor, you’re such a bitch,” Mandy says beside me, but her own laughter breaks through as she tries to hide it with her hand.

I fold my arms across my chest with payback in my eyes as Brandon leans into Cora, kissing her head and muttering, “That’s my girl.”

Mandy and Cora left about fifteen minutes ago. Brandon and I decide to stick around and have a few more beers since the game is still going on, and we’re both eager to see who wins.

“I’m gonna take a piss. Be back in a few,” Brandon says, sliding off his stool and weaving his way through the busy bar and grill.

I take a sip of my beer, my eyes on the game, when I notice the faint scent of flowery perfume floating over to me. I glance to my right. Our waitress is leaning her elbow on the bar, holding up her notepad and tapping it with her pen.

“Can I get you anything, sugar?”

There’s no mistaking the flirtation in her tone, nor the intent in her eyes as she checks me out, biting on her bottom lip and thrusting her cleavage in my face. I look away, bringing the rim of my glass to my lips. “Pretty sure you saw me with my girlfriend all night.”

“She’s not here now,” she replies boldly, tilting her head to the side and fluttering her long lashes.

I respond by pulling out my wallet and slapping a twenty-dollar bill on the bar counter, then rising from my stool. “Have a nice night.” I don’t indulge her with a parting glance. I breeze right by and head out the doors to have a smoke before I leave. I can finish the game at home.

I pull out my cell phone to text Brandon that I’m taking off, when I hear a familiar male voice coming from the left side of the parking lot. I squint my eyes through the darkness and spot Brandon leaning back against his Jeep… with his arms around a mysterious raven-haired woman. He laughs as he leans in and starts making out with someone who clearly isn’t Cora.

I see red.

I waste no time in storming over to the cheating bastard, my hands forming into fists at my sides. Brandon pulls away from the woman when he sees me closing in, looking flustered and fucking caught. I glance at the brunette and nod my head over my shoulder. “Leave.”

“Excuse me?” she demands, hands on her hips.

“Or you can watch,” I shrug. “That’s cool, too.” I grab Brandon by his shirt collar, yanking him forward, then throw him back against the hood of his Jeep. “You slimy piece of shit. Four years—four fucking years with her, and you’re throwing it all away for shiny, new co-ed pussy?”

Brandon raises his hands in defense. “Shit, man, I was just messing around. Don’t tell her, okay? It’ll kill her.”

I slug him across the jaw. “You’re going to tell her.”

Brandon grabs his face in pain, howling into his hands. “I think you broke my damn jaw.” He tries to push me off of him, but I hold tight. “You don’t even like Cora. Why the hell do you care, anyway?”

I slam him against the car and he cries out again. “I always knew she was too good for you.” I watch the mystery brunette scurry away in her high heels, then I return my attention to Brandon. “You scum bag. You’re going to end things with her or I’m going to break your jaw for real. I promise you that.”

Brandon finally shoves me away and pulls himself up, breathing hard. He shakes his head. “It’ll break her heart, man. The last guy she was with cheated on her and she hasn’t gotten over it. C’mon, just let this go. It won’t happen again.”

I run my tongue along my teeth, letting his words sink in. Then I blow out a slow breath. “Say it was me.”

“What?”

“Tell her you’re breaking up with her because I threatened you. She already hates me. She’ll believe it.”

Brandon stares at me, dumbfounded. “You’re fucking crazy. Are you secretly in love with her or something?”

I lunge at him, slamming him back against the hood. “Do it, or I swear to God you’ll be at the plastic surgeon’s office tomorrow getting a new goddamn nose.” I lift off of him, slapping at his already bruising jaw as I stand. “Then I never want to see your face again.”

A double date.

Fantastic.

Things are just as awkward as I expected them to be, considering what transpired with Jason at Mandy’s party last week. I tried to talk Mandy out of setting up this disaster, but she insisted it would be “good for Cora”.

I’m not sure going back to the same bar that Earl hunted us down in with the intention of setting Cora up with a guy only six weeks after she was raped for twenty days straight is what’s good for her, but there was only so much protesting I could do without looking suspicious. Besides… Cora agreed, despite my grievances.

And now we’re trying not to make eye contact with each other over the table as she sits across from me, only pretending to eat her mozzarella sticks.

“So, when do you go back to work?” Jason asks Cora, leaning back with his hands on his knees, looking far too interested in the way the spaghetti strap of her camisole top slips down her shoulder.

Cora pulls it back up, tucking her hair behind one ear. “Monday, actually. I’m a little nervous, but it’ll be good to get back to normal and have a routine again.”

Mandy and I share a flatbread pizza, and I return the smile she sends me when we reach for the same piece.

“Do your students know what happened to you?”

My eyes cut to Jason, then Cora.

Cora makes designs in her marinara sauce with the end of the mozzarella stick, clearing her throat. “I’m sure they do. It’s still the number one trending story.”

“Shit,” Jason says in a low breath, shaking his head with sympathy. “That’s so rough. Well, the upside is maybe you’ll get a movie or Netflix deal out of it. You know Hollywood is going to want to tell your story.” Jason reaches for his beer and takes a few sips. “Have you been asked to do any interviews yet?”

Cora is scratching at her wrist, and I notice the delicate skin looks raw and irritated.

“Yeah, but I’m not ready yet. Maybe someday.”

We share a look, but she glances down by ducking her head. Without thinking, I stretch my leg out under the table until I find her foot, linking my ankle around hers and prompting her eyes to go wide. I stare at her with a soft expression, grazing my ankle up and down her calf, trying to soothe her anxiety the only way I can. She doesn’t pull away.

And she stops scratching her wrist.

Fuck. I think we’re playing footsie under the table next to our dates.

“That’s pretty cool, though,” Jason says absently. “You’re basically famous.”

My head shoots up and I drop my foot. I’m done with this train wreck. “Cool?” I repeat through clenched teeth, trying to keep my voice calm and collected.

Mandy reaches out to touch my thigh, a gentle warning not to make a scene. I can see Cora’s eyes spearing me with her own warning as she tucks both feet underneath her chair.

Jason cringes at his choice of words. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I was just trying to find a little positive in the negative.”

“There is nothing positive about what happened to us. Nothing,” I bite back. I realize I’m gripping my fork like I’m about to use it as a weapon. I don’t even remember picking it up. I drop the utensil with a clank, then fall back against my chair while everyone goes quiet.

I tap my hand against my thigh and bob my leg, desperate for a cigarette. I haven’t had a smoke since the night of the abduction—I figured I had gone three weeks without it, so there was no point in starting up the habit again. But I’m finding myself easily agitated and low on patience lately, and the nicotine always helped calm me. Maybe I should just start smoking. Hell, I’m already a borderline alcoholic at this point… what’s another vice to add into the mix? I decide to pick up a few packs after this shitty double date, and in the meantime, I’ll just try to get drunk.

The night goes on painfully slow with Jason asking dumb ass questions, Cora playing with her food, and Mandy trying to seduce me with coy winks and thigh grabs. I sling back five beers over the next hour, grateful when I finally feel the telltale buzz creep in.

Jason and Cora are talking about some book I’ve never heard of, and Cora looks into it. She’s relaxed and engaged, laughing at something he says with a genuine smile. At one point, Jason wraps his arm around her shoulder and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” I hear him whisper against her ear.

It takes all of my lingering willpower to keep my ass in my seat and refrain from lunging across the table to throttle him.

Jason announces he needs to use the restroom a moment later and ventures away from our table. Mandy immediately perks up.

“Oh, my God, sis. He loves you,” she beams, reaching over to squeeze Cora’s hands in hers. “What do you think?”

I don’t miss the way she glances at me before replying. “He’s nice. I think there’s potential.”

“He seems like a douche,” I mutter under my breath in between chugging down my sixth beer.

Cora jerks her head towards me. “Why? He’s been a total gentleman.”

“It’s obvious he just wants to screw the damaged local celebrity.”

I regret the words instantly, closing my eyes and waiting for the well-deserved comeback. But all I feel is Mandy ramming her elbow into my ribs. I wince. When I open my eyes, Cora is simply staring at me, wounded and teary-eyed. Fuck.

“Is that what you think of me, Dean?” She swallows, her hands trembling. She hides them in her lap. “You think I’m damaged, and men only want me for one thing?”

I try to backpedal. “No. Shit, I’m just… feeling drunk and out of my head right now, and I don’t like Jason. I just meant that he probably sees you like that.”

“Because I have no other redeeming qualities…”

There is still no anger, no bitterness, no animosity in her words. Only pain.

Which is so much fucking worse.

I can’t say what I want to say with Mandy sitting next to me, watching the scene unfold with questioning eyes, and I sure as hell can’t stand to see that look on Cora’s face for a second longer, so I push myself from the table and rise to my feet. I storm away, not looking back, and head towards the bathrooms. Jason is exiting as soon as I’m about to enter. He pauses, looking somewhat rattled by my presence.

I hadn’t planned on starting anything, but fuck it. “Just stay away from her, okay?” I get in his face, watching a frown crease his brow. “She’s been through too much. She doesn’t need you fucking her all up again.”

Jason swings his head back and forth, folding his arms defensively. “You’ve got balls trying to cock block me from a woman you’re clearly in love with, while your fiancé—her goddamn sister—sits right next to you.”

What the hell? I almost choke on his words. They send me into a frenzy and I feel myself spiraling, so I snatch his t-shirt between my fists and spin him around, slamming him up against the opposite wall. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“It’s clear as day, asshole, and I want no part of it.” Jason shoves me away, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “You can have her.”

I try to get my tapered breaths under control and reply, “I’m not in love with her. You’re delusional.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Jason slaps my shoulder, then runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair and turns away, mumbling under his breath, “Fucking dick.”

I watch him leave, my blood boiling, and notice Cora standing there at the end of the hallway, clutching her purse strap in a firm fist. Her eyes dart between us, looking upset. Confused.

I’m a few feet away, but I hear Jason mutter before he breezes out the front door, “Sorry, but I’m not up for a competition. Take care of yourself, Cora.”

And then we’re left staring at each other from across the hall, both of our chests heaving, our eyes locked and loaded, the words on the tips of our tongues. But Cora walks away, pushing out through those same doors and disappearing into the night.

I follow her.

“Cora,” I call out, watching as she makes a quick escape to her car, hitting the unlock button multiple times until her headlights blink to life.

“Leave me alone.”

I catch up to her and slide into the passenger’s seat as she enters the driver’s side. “I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t look at me. “Get out of my car, Dean.”

Cora turns on the ignition, mascara streaks etched across both cheeks, and even though my head is starting to feel loopy from the beer, I realize I fucked up. Big time. I made her question her worth and I sabotaged her date.

And for what?

Why?

“Corabelle, please. Talk to me.”

Her shoulders are trembling as she plants both hands on the steering wheel, squeezing until her knuckles go white. More tears spill from her eyes. “Fine.” She sniffles, looking up at me with eyes made of emerald flames. “We’re done. Whatever this is, whatever is between us—it’s done. Over. I thought I needed you to heal, but this is toxic… all you’re doing is holding me underwater and I can’t breathe. I can’t heal when I’m constantly reminded of my trauma every time I look at you.” Cora inhales sharp, ragged breaths as she finishes. “I thought you could fix me. But you’re killing me, Dean.”

I’m stunned into silence, my heart shattering into a thousand fucking pieces. All I can do is gawk at her, and I know she doesn’t want this, I know she’s just upset and pissed and confused. I find myself feeling entirely vulnerable and at a loss for words. I glance down at the center console, swallowing my pride. “I don’t know how to get through this without you.”

“You need to try. We’re not in that basement anymore. We’re on our own now.”

“No, Cora, we are still in that basement—we never got out. And we’ll stay down there, trapped, chained to steel pipes, drowning in darkness, until we can fix our shit. Together.”

“No!” Cora slaps one hand against the wheel, releasing a gasping sob. “No… not together. I can’t be calling you in the middle of the night to come over, we can’t be sharing a bed, we can’t be talking on the phone every night until we fall asleep.” She shakes her head furiously. Adamantly. “I can’t let you hold me and touch me and look at me the way you do. It’s not fair to Mandy. I feel like my soul is rotting.”

“We haven’t done anything wrong,” I insist, trying to get through to her.

“We’ve done everything wrong.”

I gaze at her through the dim-lit car, her tears illuminated by the dashboard. She looks worn down, defeated, and lost. All I’ve tried to do is build her up, put her pieces back together, and quiet the ghosts that haunt her day in and day out.

I had no idea I was the reason for the look in her eyes right now.

It guts me.

I glance down at the chain around her neck, the heart locket hidden beneath her red camisole. Her top matches the color of her mouth, even though her lipstick is smudged from the tears still raining down her cheeks. While staring at her lips, I’m reminded of the last time I was pressed against them and how warm and soft they felt—something good and pure poking through the ugliness. I find her eyes and ask, “What happened between us that last day?”

I finally said it. I brought life to the single most confusing moment of my existence, and up until now, up until this very second, I could still pretend it was a dream. A mirage. Maybe a fucked up fantasy. It wasn’t real—as long as we never acknowledged it, it never happened.

But it’s real now. And it’s hovering between us, thick and potent, tearing away our armor and walls and carefully assembled layers.

Cora’s breath hitches as she locks her eyes on mine, blinking back more tears. “I wasn’t myself—I zoned out and my body was confused. It didn’t mean anything.”

I frown, taken aback by her words. Bullshit. “You’re lying. You were there with me, one hundred percent. I saw it in your eyes.”

“No.”

“Yes, Cora.”

“No,” she grits out, her chin quivering. “Please go.”

I lean forward until our faces are only inches apart and I can smell the flowers in her hair. I clench my jaw and say in a low, low voice, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but I was there. I know you felt it. And I’m not saying I understand it, or can explain it, or know what the fuck to do about it, but it was something, Corabelle.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, her breathing uneven and her body still shivering, but not from the cold—no, not from the cold. Cora leans into me, her eyes dancing to my mouth for a fleeting moment, then right back up again. She sucks in a breath. “Don’t call me that.” Her voice is deadly calm and full of icy warning. She falls back against the seat, still cutting me with her sharp gaze. “Now… get out of my car.”

The flickering light I’ve carried with me since the day this all began, the hope of better days, the glimmer of promise that someday, one day, everything will be bright again, extinguishes right then and there. I feel cold and dark and empty.

And so very alone.

I nod, slow and sure, silently admitting my defeat, then I turn to exit her vehicle without looking back. If this is what she wants—if this is what she needs—I have no other choice but to walk away. And even though I hear her crying, sobbing her heart out into the starry night through the cracked car window, I keep on walking.

I walk straight towards Mandy, standing in the middle of the parking lot hugging herself, her own tears of betrayal slipping down flushed cheeks.

“Mandy…” I say, picking up my pace so I can reach her, get to her, try to explain something I can’t even explain to myself.

But she whips around, her hair flying over her shoulder like a curtain closing. Mandy gets into her own car and speeds out of the parking lot as Cora’s car follows behind a few moments later. I’m left abandoned in The Broken Oar parking lot on a frosty January night.

It’s fine, I say, stumbling back until my foot hits a curb, and I collapse onto a patch of grass.

It’s okay.

I’ve slept in worse places.

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