Credence

I run up the stairs of the deck, breezing past my uncle and all the commotion in the shop as I hear the truck tires grind the gravel behind me. I pick up my pace.

Noah made good on his threat to put me on the website and scheduled an impromptu photoshoot with the motorcycles. I won’t take good pictures today, but at least it keeps me away from Kaleb.

I wipe the tear from my face.

“What’s wrong?” I hear Jake ask.

“I don’t know,” Noah tells him as I hurry for the front door. “She ran away from Kaleb.”

“Tiernan!” my uncle shouts.

“Let’s just do this,” I call out, swinging open the door. Where’s the photographer?

An SUV and a Jeep sit parked in the driveway, and I know they’re setting up lighting and such in the garage, but I should take a moment to compose myself.

I need to get in my room—my room—and lock the goddamn door for a few minutes.

Why was he in such a hurry to toss my birth control this morning? He didn’t even think about it. He didn’t hesitate. It was like a lightbulb went on and the solution to a problem he’d been facing finally occurred to him.

I stalk through the living room, but a hand wraps around my arm and pulls me around. I jerk out of Kaleb’s hold, glaring at him through watery eyes.

“Kaleb, stop,” his father orders, entering the house.

Noah follows. “What happened with you two?”

But I just stare at Kaleb. “This is why you wanted me pregnant,” I tell him. “You wanted to trap me before I found out about her.”

“Pregnant?” Jake repeats. He darts his eyes to Kaleb. “What did you do?”

Kaleb’s face is flushed, sweat glistens on his neck, and his eyes look pained. He’s wrecked.

And quiet. Always quiet, because if he doesn’t have to address any problems, then they don’t exist.

I barely have the strength to breathe. “Even now, you won’t talk to me,” I say quietly.

Jake inches in. “Are you pregnant?”

“No.” I shake my head, my sadness turning to anger as I look at Kaleb. “Thank God,” I spit out.

Kaleb steps in, hovering over me with an edge to his expression. He’s mad now.

Noah pulls him back. “Kaleb, back off her.”

Jake presses a hand into his chest.

But Kaleb throws them off, growling, and I back up, tears welling again as he swoops in and picks me up, holds my face and forces his mouth on mine. I choke down a sob, the assault of his scent reminding me how happy we were just this morning.

Before we came back to the world.

I push him away, crying out as Noah and Jake pull him off me.

I breathe hard, falling to my feet and backing up, farther away from him.

“Cici Diggins is pregnant,” I tell Jake and Noah. “Very pregnant.”

Kaleb doesn’t look at anyone but me, but I see Jake and Noah staring at me, stunned.

“It could be anybody’s,” Noah argues.

“Yours?”

“No,” he retorts like I’m crazy. “God, no. I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Did she say it was Kaleb’s?” Jake straightens, releasing his son.

“She didn’t have to,” I tell him, but I lock eyes with Kaleb.

If it’s his, I might learn to live with it, even though that means living with her in our lives.

If he knew about it all along, though…

“Say something,” I tell him. “Say something to me.”

Anything, please.

“Or write something, then,” I ask. “Tell me anything. Tell me you love me.”

He just stands there, though.

And I stop crying, my heart broken but not. Maybe it’s just not there anymore, because I draw in a deep breath, knowing someone will have his kids, but it will never be me. I can’t live in another house where someone I love won’t talk to me.

“We’re all set,” I hear a woman say from the kitchen.

It only takes a moment, but I blink away the tears and follow her into the shop, desperate to get away.

“Let’s get you ready,” she chirps.

I nod, pushing Kaleb and Cici out of my mind.

They change me into a pair of short jean shorts and a black off-the-shoulder top that shows my belly. I sit down to have my hair styled and my make-up done, Noah having accounted for everything when bringing people up here, I guess. I feel like I’m on one of my parents’ movie sets.

“Not too much,” the blue-haired photographer tells the make-up artist. “I want natural. I want her to look like someone the average guy can get into bed with.”

Someone clears their throat behind us.

“Kidding,” the lady quickly replies, and I guess Jake is standing behind me.

Then to the artist again, she says, “You catch my drift, though, right? Pretty, not porno.”

The man with short-cropped blond hair and tattoos on his fingers nods, blending concealer under my eyes, probably to get rid of the splotchiness from my crying.

The stylist fluffs my waves, sprays my hair, and I open my mouth, stretching my face, because I haven’t worn make-up in so long, it’s like cake on my face.

Noah pulls up a stool and plops down, waggling his eyebrows at me as the stylist moves to his head next.

“Keep Kaleb away from me,” I tell him in a low voice, but it’s more a beg.

“Sure.” He sighs. “I was in the mood to bleed today.”

I give him a sad smile. We finish readying, and I move, as if on auto-pilot. Mirai is flying in tonight, and whether or not she’ll recognize me is irrelevant. She’ll know things happened here, and I won’t blame her for not understanding. I don’t think I do myself anymore.

I’m hurt, but at least I’m leaving stronger than when I came.

“Noah?” the photographer named Juno calls.

I straddle the dirt bike, spotting Kaleb’s black T-shirt off to my left by the shop doors, but I don’t dare look. Noah climbs on the bike behind me, jeans and bare chest, because we’re supposed to look sexy as if this image is supposed to have any basis in reality. Motocross racers will probably laugh and pick apart our lack of proper attire and equipment, but sex sells, I’m told.

So here we go.

He fits behind me, placing his hands on my hips. Kaleb shifts off to my left, and I think Jake steps in, stopping him.

I lean back into Noah, the air hitting my bare stomach as I arch my back a little.

“Not too close,” someone tells Juno. “She’s his cousin.”

Noah snorts, his chest shaking against my back.

I clench my teeth. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s hilarious.”

I roll my eyes. I guess I should laugh, too, or I’ll cry. The cousins in this house are so much closer than they realize. My hips are the least of what Noah has touched.

Before I can stop myself, my gaze flashes to Kaleb. He leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, and his expression more pained than I’ve seen it. He stares at us—at me—like something he’s already lost, and he hasn’t the slightest clue how to get back what he wants most in the world.

All he has to do is talk. Find a way to communicate.

I let my eyes fall as I cock my head to the side and turn it for a candid shot, because I can’t look at the camera in case I’ve ruined my mascara.

“I love that, Tiernan,” Juno coos. “You look amazing, honey.”

I rest my hands on my thighs, lifting my chin a little. I guess the point of this is to feature the young faces of Van der Berg Extreme, and Noah knew this wasn’t Kaleb’s thing. I’m glad it’s Noah behind me, though. He’s who I’m safe with.

“Look at him now,” Juno tells me.

My throat tightens, and I’m overwhelmed. I take some deep breaths, trying to get my head back in the game.

“Look at me, Tiernan,” Noah whispers.

Slowly, I look up, meeting his eyes over my shoulder.

The photographer snaps some shots.

“We’re not letting you go,” he murmurs to me, so no one else can hear. “This is family.”

I can’t help but smile. For better or worse, I’m not escaping them, am I? This is family.

They won’t run from me, and no matter what happens with Kaleb and me, I love Jake and Noah, too. They lend credence every day to what happened to me and to my need to be in this. They validated me when I had nothing.

Jake was holding onto his past and punishing himself, just like me. Noah had no one to talk to, just like me. Kaleb struggles to connect, because of his pain of being forgotten by someone who should’ve loved him enough never to forget.

Just like me.

They lend truth to the fact that I was lost, and it was okay to be hurt. We found each other, and no matter what anyone would say about what happened up here this winter, I’m the only one who needs to understand.

“Lean into him, Tiernan,” Juno instructs.

I do as she says and lean into Noah, looking up at him, a small grin I can’t help but feel spreading across my lips. He winks at me.

“That’s good.” A few more snaps go off. “Now, Noah, look off to the side and down.”

He hesitates, but finally, he looks away, looking like Kaleb as he stares off like the tortured hero.

“Oh, that’s great. You both look great!”

I slide off the bike and climb on behind him now, spreading my knees and placing my hands on his waist.

“Looking good,” Juno says, moving around us to take more shots.

I hear someone giggle and look up to see a few more people have arrived, racers and their girlfriends whom I vaguely remember hanging around the shop last fall.

One girl stands next to Kaleb and stares at him, looking nervous but smitten.

I gulp. At least he’s not paying her any mind.

“Now, Noah, off the bike,” Juno says. “Tiernan, I want you to lean forward and grab the handlebars. Noah, do the same from the other side, straddle the front wheel, and challenge each other. Kind of like siblings.”

Noah laughs again but follows orders. I scoot up in the seat, both feet on the ground, while Noah plants both legs on either side of the front wheel and leans into me, holding the handles.

“Tiernan, can you arch your back?” she asks.

I do, jutting out my butt a little more as the muscles in my thighs flex.

“More, honey.”

I sigh, trying to lean forward more and stick out my ass.

But Noah urges me further. “More,” he whispers. “Like you’ve got a man behind you.”

I arch an eyebrow. Leave it to him to make some sexual joke right now.

I dart my gaze to Kaleb, seeing his eyes crinkled at the edges as he watches us. The girl has moved away a step, but she’s still swooning.

No short supply of women to take his mind off me once I’m gone, I guess.

“You ready to go to L.A.?” I ask Noah as Juno takes our picture.

“I’ve been ready. You?” he challenges. “You ready to get the fuck out of this dump?”

I want to shoot him a look, but I don’t want to lose the shot.

“I don’t want him to be angry with you,” I tell Noah, referring to Kaleb.

If I leave with Noah, Kaleb will assume the wrong thing.

“If he wants to follow us and bring you back, then maybe that’s what he needs to do,” Noah retorts. “If not, I get you to myself. Win, win.”

I fluff my hair and adjust my stance. “You don’t want me. You want to race.”

“I’d love my family with me, though.”

Yeah.

I can do that.

“I’m not letting you go,” I tell him.

He smiles. But then he stops, remembering himself.

He glances off toward Kaleb and then back to me. “He’s five seconds from rearranging my face.”

I could care less if Kaleb is angry.

“Ugh, doesn’t that just take the cake?” someone says somewhere by the doors. “I love women in that position. All she’s gotta do is hold it like that.”

Someone chuckles, but I don’t know who. I ignore them.

“She’s carrying herself a little hotter than last fall,” the same guy says. “Wonder what changed?”

“I don’t know, but I’m wishing I was locked up here with her all season,” the other man adds.

There’s a shuffle, a gasp, and then all hell breaks loose as a table topples over and shouting ensues.

“Kaleb!” Jake shouts.

I shoot up, watching as Kaleb throws one of the racers down on the floor of the shop and Jake rushes in to haul his son back. Juno and the stylists rear back, out of the way, and the girls who came with the guys stumble out into the driveway.

I climb off the bike, seeing Noah rush over and keep Kaleb back as his dad picks up the guy off the ground.

“Motherfucker!” the guy growls at Kaleb.

But Jake pushes him and his friend out of the shop. “Hit the road,” he tells them. “Closed shoot, you little shits!”

Those must’ve been the jerks making remarks.

Kaleb goes after him again, but Jake is quick to catch him. “Stop!” he yells. “Stop it right now.”

He points in his son’s face, but Kaleb is seething. The racers take their girls, climb on their bikes, and speed off, everyone in the shop standing around, shaken.

Finally, Jake just waves them off. “Alright, that’s enough,” he bites out. “We’ve got what we need.”

Juno nods and turns off her camera, everyone hurrying to close up shop and gather their equipment.

Kaleb stalks toward me.

But Jake grabs him again. “No,” he says. “Get in the truck. Now.”

He glares at Kaleb, pushing him out of the shop.

Kaleb stumbles back, staring at me.

“Now!” Jake fires at him again.

I can see the vein in Kaleb’s neck bulging from here, and he hesitates, but… he leaves, heading into the driveway.

“You, too,” Jake orders Noah.

Noah grabs his T-shirt and follows his brother out to the truck.

Jake charges over to me. He stops close, keeping his voice down as much as he’s capable since there’s still people around. “I’m going to go deal with the sheriff, and I’m taking them to the fucking bar to sort some shit out.”

“A bar,” I grit out. “And I have to stay here?”

“Yes.” He glowers at me. “Don’t leave the house, or you’ll be sorry.”

“What did I do?” I fire back. “I don’t want to be stuck here all night while you’re all out, shopping for tail!”

“You’ll stay here, because Kaleb’s not going to leave you alone if I don’t get him away from you!” he barks, not caring who hears us now. “You haven’t been separated from him for more than two months, and everyone needs a few hours of space. I’m doing this for you. Take a shower. Calm down.”

I shake my head. He thinks a shower is going to solve this? I have every right to be upset. I won’t calm down.

He pauses, relaxing his shoulders and checking himself.

“I need to talk to him, Tiernan,” he says, softening his tone. “I need to make sure there isn’t a warrant out for him, and we need to talk to the Diggins girl. You need to stay here. We’ll be back later.”

And I watch as he leaves, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

I stand there, even after the photographer and stylists have left and I’m all alone in the house, knowing that Kaleb and I only have one problem, and the only thing that will solve it wasn’t on Jake’s agenda tonight.

It’s something his father can’t take care of for him. It has to come from Kaleb.

See you soon.

I stare at the text from Mirai that came in four hours ago as she was boarding a plane at LAX.

She can’t come here. Kaleb has no restraint. He won’t care about appearances, he’ll scare her, and she’ll try to drag me out of here.

Standing by my bed, I look down at my half-filled suitcase that I started packing when the text came in. At first, I threw in a few clothes to stay with her at the motel in town, just to keep her away from here.

Then, I started packing more than I needed, and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe Jake was right to take them out tonight, so we could all have space. Maybe space is exactly what everyone needs right now. I could go home for a bit. There’s texting, email, FaceTime… I’ll stay in touch. I could say I’m taking Noah to get him settled at my house while he meets with sponsors and just take the opportunity to get some air myself. Some perspective.

But I stopped packing when I realized I wouldn’t come back. Not unless Kaleb came for me himself.

Am I prepared to draw that line?

Tonight?

Sticking my phone in my back pocket, I head up to Kaleb’s room to clean out anything I’ll need in the immediate future. Lightning flashes out the window as I enter his room, and I turn on the lamp, the smell of the wood, fire, and books like home now, because I’ve spent countless hours in this room over recent months.

Picking up the tattered hardback on his bedside table, I open it to where a pencil is stuck inside and look at the sketch I saw him working on one night. Me in the shower, water spilling over my top half as I rinse my hair.

I told him that I read some of his journal entries, and while he wasn’t upset, I haven’t seen him write any more since. When he does dive into the flyleafs, he just draws now.

I assured him I wouldn’t read more, unless he wanted me to, but he doesn’t feel safe. In some ways, he opened up more with me. In others, he retreated.

I pick up the pencil and start writing on the opposite page.

Noah said something a couple of months ago. He said you were my first, and if I followed my mother’s advice, then I wasn’t supposed to end up with you.

Rain starts hitting the roof and lightning strikes again, followed by a roll of thunder.

But at the time, in my head, you weren’t the first. You were the one I should be with, because I finally liked myself, and I liked how you pushed me, because it made me push back. You made me learn how to demand.

And for that, I’ll always be grateful.

I can’t take any more than short, shallow breaths, because a lump lodges in my throat.

You’re at the bar with them now, and I’m alone in your room, knowing I should keep packing my suitcase but not wanting to, because the highs with you are so good. I don’t want it to stop.

But the lows…

The lows are like I’m nine again and still waiting for them to love me.

I can’t keep being grateful for the scraps. I need more from him.

You won’t change, and the bottom line is… I won’t stay. You’re not my parents. You don’t ignore me. But you’re punishing me. You wield the only power you have, and I don’t know why I thought I could get more out of you, because if you didn’t talk to Noah and Jake for seventeen years, why would you talk for me?

Maybe it’s about control. A way to dominate us. I don’t know, but it hurts.

I think you loved me, though. And I love you. I was yours that first night when you took me in your arms in the shop, and you didn’t even know my name. It was a rough road we traveled to get here, and I knew you were the one even then.

I look up at the ceiling, listening to the storm. Kaleb was rain. Passion, a scream, and my hair sticking to my face as I wrapped my arms around him. Spontaneous and loud all over my skin.

He was whispers, too, though. Snow, firelight, and searching for his warmth between the sheets at two a.m. when the rest of the house is asleep.

Remember the three L’s I talked about—Lust, Learn, and Love? There’s another one. One my mother didn’t tell me about, and I’m not sure where it fits, but I know it’s necessary.

I need some time alone to hear myself.

It’s time to Listen.

My head and heart are both saying the same things. I need more from him. I stick the pencil in the book and close it, laying it on his bed before turning off the lamp.

Closing the door, I head downstairs, texting my uncle on the way.

I’m picking up Mirai at the airport.

He just doesn’t need to know I’ve decided to keep us at the motel in town. It’s a wise choice, anyway. The peak could get snowed in again, and I don’t think she and Jake need to be locked up in such close proximity.

I toss some toiletries into the suitcase and close it up, carrying it downstairs. Setting it by the door, I pull on my rain boots and coat, hearing the dogs barking out in the barn.

I walk over to the window and look outside. It’s not like they aren’t used to thunder up here. What are they barking at?

The door to the stable swings open and closed in the wind, the light left on and casting a glow as the rain pours. Mud puddles dance as drops hit, and I buckle up my raincoat, heading out the shop door.

I walk across the room, opening the bay door and stepping outside.

Running to the stable, I squeal as water hits my jeans, and I dash inside, throwing off my hood.

Danny howls as Johnny runs up to me, and I give him a quick pet, hearing Shawnee thrashing in her stall. She whinnies, jumping up and down, her hooves hitting the wooden door.

What the hell?

I run over, grabbing her mane and pulling her down to me. I stroke her nose.

“Hey, hey, it’s just rain.” I chuckle, giving her a good rub. “You’ve gotta be used to storms by now.”

“It’s not the storm upsetting her,” someone says.