Page 81 of The Spider & the Storm

It wasmyfault for being too blinded again by love to see that I’d neglected the most important people in my life.

I clambered from my bed to walk down the hall. I needed to apologize to Luke. I needed to tell him that this wasn’t his fault, that Dr. Sibilia had been wrong once upon a time, and this had all once again come down tome. I was the problem here, not him, and even if it wouldn’t bring Melanie back, he had to at least know that I accepted all of this damn blame.

So, I stood in front of the door, ready to knock, when I heard something coming from inside.

Something I hadn’t heard since the day of our parents’ funeral.

Luke was crying, and this time, Melanie wasn’t there to hold him.

And that was also my fault.

I didn’t open the door, didn't want to intrude on his grief and mourning. So, I sank to the floor, sliding my back against the wall, and pressed my forehead to my knees. Then, I cried with my brother, mourning the woman who’d kept our pieces together and wondering what would happen to us once they inevitably fell apart.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MASSACHUSETTS, PRESENT DAY

Dozens of girls had been on the back of this motorcycle with their arms wrapped around my brother’s waist. Most of them had ended up at our house, and some of them had even managed to stay the night. Yet what nauseated me wasn’t the number or the memories of listening to Luke fuck random women in various parts of the house while I locked myself up in my room with markers, paper, and very loud, very angry music.

It was that Melanie had never been one of them. She should've been the only one.

But now, it was Stormy girl. And she was the first woman to ever sit behind me on this seat, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist and her chin perched atop my shoulder.

I had agreed to give her a ride back to the hotel with all intentions of dropping her off and never allowing my path to cross hers again. I’d even quit my job and find a new city to hide in if I had to.

Except I hadn’t expected this to feel so nice, her body tucked around mine. I hadn’t expected her to smell so good as we zipped through the dark streets of Salem toward the road that stretched between her hotel and my graveyard.

I was so acutely aware of a part of me, pulsing and weeping with needs I had kept silent for a long, long time.

The need to be touched.

The need to be in the presence of a beautiful woman and remain there for as long as she wanted me.

But before I could allow that miniscule, stifled part of myself to regain too much control, I pulled into the hotel parking lot and remained silent as I waited for her to dismount. All while reminding myself that I had never had the best of luck with relationships and I couldn’t afford another heartbreak.

The last one had nearly killed me.

Stormy girl stood beside the bike, looking out of place in her Victorian gown while holding the helmet she’d borrowed from Blake’s wife. She looked like she was hesitating, holding back the things she wanted to say, and I was beginning to get nervous. I wouldn’t leave until she was safely inside, but my brain was racing with every possibility of what words were about to pour from her mouth. I didn’t want to hear any of them. I’d already let this night go too far by just attending the damn party.

“Do you think—”

“No,” I reflexively fired at her, interrupting in a way that was immediately embarrassing.

“What?” She was taken aback, and I refused to give myself room to care.

“Whatever you’re going to say, the answer is no.”

“Wow. Okay,” she replied, huffing a belligerent laugh.

She turned away, releasing a deep breath, but she didn’t walk away.

Her reluctance to leave made me groan inwardly as I tipped my head back and asked through gritted teeth, “What were you going to say?”

“Never mind, Charlie. Don’t worry about it.” Cold and distant—a stark contrast to how she’d been all night.

It bothered me. But it bothered me more that it was a direct reflection of how I had treated her.

Would it kill me to not be an asshole?

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