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His smile touches his eyes. “I’ll see you soon, baby.” I take in a deep breath and nod. As he walks away, he keeps his eyes on me. I laugh when he runs into a lady. He looks at me, shrugs and mouths “I love you.”
Wayne wraps his arm around my shoulder and we watch together as Kase disappears into a sea of other travelers. “Ready, Buttercup?” I slap him in the stomach and he doubles over with an exaggerated grunt. Why did we have to bring him with us?
I repeat to myself over and over on the drive home, he’s coming back. I stare at the silver band he gave me a couple of weeks ago when he got down on one knee. The same one I hide from my parents when I’m home.
We’re getting married and they can’t say anything to stop me.
He’s mine.
Chapter Three
Kase
Splashes of brown and green rush by in a blur as I stare out the window in the back of the taxi. The landscape is choking in this Texas heat. The lush greenery that was thriving just two months ago is slowly fading. I focus on the dying brush instead of the disappointment brewing in my head. Walking out past airport security, I thought I’d see the face that got me through the past couple of months. Instead, I got faces full of sympathy as they watched me look for someone who wasn’t there. I wasn’t worried that I didn’t get a hold of her when I got a chance to call, but now this, it stings a little.
I close my eyes, running scenarios through my mind. She had the date wrong of me coming home. She’s shopping with her friends, lost track of time. She got a job and couldn’t leave. But I always end at the one that kills me inside; she’s moved on.
“Bootcamp as bad as I’ve heard?” The driver asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Physically, no.” I had it in my head that boot camp would make me more in shape than before I left. I think I gained fat being there. Pre-training is going to kick my ass.
I have the driver take me to my dad’s house first so I can pick up my truck. When we pull up, I shake my head, looking at the overgrown yard. Weeds have taken over the lawn. Days of newspapers litter the driveway.
Home sweet home.
My duffle bag makes a thud sound against the old worn out hardwood floor. The stench—from god knows what—invades my nostrils. I bet the asshole hasn’t cleaned anything since I left. The house is dark from the pulled curtains and the putrid smell gets worse as I walk into the living room. I pull my t-shirt over my nose hoping for a slight reprieve from the offending odor. Beer bottles are strewn across the coffee table with the caps littering the floor. I’m thankful I have shoes on when I step on one.
Yanking the curtains back, a couple of months of dust float in the air. I feel like I’ve walked into an abandoned house. There’s no resemblance to the house I grew up in. The life inside of it died when my mom died. I grumble at the smell, it’s so bad. “What the fuck is that?” I yell out.
I should turn around and leave. The only reason I came here was to get my truck, pack up some things and then go see Everly. I get pissed at myself for feeling guilty. He did this to himself. He’s a fully capable human being able to take care of himself. It’s like the angel and devil of my subconscious are having a fight. I’m on the devil’s side, but it’s the angel that’s making me head toward the closet. The box of trash bags I bought before I left is unopened, proving the bastard didn’t throw anything away. I yank a bag out, shake it open and start cleaning up.
When my fingers touch something wet on the counter under the mound of paper plates, I snap them back. I smell my finger and my stomach convulses and I cough through my gagging. My eyes water as I rush to wash off whatever the hell that was. I think I found the culprit of the stench. Tying a towel around my face, making sure to cover my nose, I dive back into cleaning.
The spilled curdled milk on the counter only made me gag a couple more times, but the house is somewhat clean now. I snatch my bag off the floor and walk down the hall to my bedroom. The shower is calling my name. I practically lived outside the last two months, yet I never felt this dirty. It’s probably the damn smell of spoiled milk that won’t go away.
“Well, if it ain’t the prodigal son returning.” My dad’s gruff voice slurs as he walks in the front door. I look up from tying my shoe for a moment, briefly catching his blood-shot eyes, before looking back down and finishing. “I’m surprised you came back, boy.” Sitting up, I watch him look around. He nods with his lips puckered like he just ate a lemon.
“You’re welcome,” I say, snidely.
He ignores me, walks to his La-Z-Boy and drops into it. “Not sure what you came back for. It’s not like you have a girlfriend anymore.” I stare at the back of the chair, stunned by his words. I’m trying to figure out if he’s being his typical asshole self, or my worst scenario is actually true. No. He’s lying.
I jump up, grab my keys and jog out the door. I can hear him heckling as I shut the door. Asshole. See if I ever clean your house again. You can die in your stench next time. The drive over, I nervously tap my thumbs to the beat of the song. Could she really have moved on from me? Did our love mean nothing to her? I knock the heel of my fist against my head. Stop thinking this shit. There is no way she forgot about me and moved on. Never.
“Kase, wait,” Everly’s dad says, holding out his hand. As soon as I drove up, he met me outside and stopped me. I stare at him wondering why he’s keeping me from going inside. “She was in an accident.” What? My body lunges forward needing to get to her before my brain can catch up to ask questions.
“Everly!” I yell as he holds me back. I repeat her name again.
“Kase.” He shakes me, and I glare at him, my nostrils flaring. “She was hurt pretty bad.”
“Where is she?” My voice is in full panic mode. “Tell me where she is!”
“She’s inside, but —”
He might be bigger than me, but he’s not as fast. I twist out of his grip and run inside, the screen door slamming behind me. “Everly, where are you?” I yell, trying my hardest not to scream it at the top of my lungs. Glancing into each room as I rush through the house, I finally find her in her bedroom. She’s sitting up with a book in her hand, but her eyes are pinned on me when I enter the room. I’m halted by the look of panic. It’s not until that second I wonder why she didn’t come running for me when I was calling her name.
“Everly, what’s wrong?” I take a step and her back stiffens, so I stop. She’s scared. Of me? The rise and fall of my chest is the only movement in the room. I glance around and question myself if this is the guest bedroom. No, the guest bedroom is in the back of the house. That window, I’ve crawled through a million times. But this isn’t her room. Pictures of us that are normally plastered everywhere, are all gone. The walls are bare. What the hell is going on?
“She lost her memory.” Her dad stands behind me in the doorway, his words feel like needles pushing into my heart. I keep my eyes on her to see her reaction. “Everly, this is Kase. He’s a friend.”
