This chapter is ridiculously short, everyone...I must warn you! I wanted this scene to be a separate chapter. But check tomorrow evening for the next part...the conclusion to this little "episode."
Chapter Twenty-Four
They stood there staring at each other for what felt like five minutes, but what must, in reality, have been no more than a few seconds. The only sound was the dreary late-afternoon rain pelting the window. Sawyer tried to keep his breathing under control, waiting for her to speak first.
Finally, she did.
"Do you even want me to try to explain, or do you just want to go straight to the yelling?" she asked in a tired voice.
He looked as if he couldn't believe she'd chosen to start with this.
"I don't know that you can really afford sarcasm right now, sweetheart. So why don't you just do yourself a favor and start talkin'. Where the hell did this come from?"
There was a dangerous edge to his voice.
"You know where it came from," she said in a quiet tone. "It came from the attic."
"When?" he asked with his teeth clenched.
"A few days after I got here."
Inwardly, he felt a small measure of relief. So at least it wasn't something she'd done recently. It didn't change the fact that she'd taken it, but it made it somewhat more bearable.
"Why?" he asked, a tiny bit calmer now, but still angry. "Were you plannin' to make off with it?"
"No," she said, defensively. "I'm not a thief, Sawyer." Unless you count bank robbery, she thought to herself, but said nothing out loud.
He waited for her to go on, to offer some kind of explanation.
She sighed deeply and looked at the floor. "At the time...I didn't know how close they might be. I knew they didn't follow me here, but there was the chance - there's still the chance - that they could have picked up my trail. I didn't know whether I might have to clear out of here with only a moment's notice. And coupled with the fact that I knew you didn't want me here..."
She looked up at him, hoping he would fill in the blanks himself and let her off the hook, but he still waited. She continued.
"I didn't have any money. I had absolutely nothing to live on...I tried to think of what I would do if I left..if I had to leave..and I couldn't come up with anything. I figured I could get enough money from that stuff to last a few weeks, anyway. But I would have paid you back," she said sharply. "Every cent...as soon as I could."
"You think I wouldn't have given you money?"
"I know you would have! You did, remember? But I didn't want you to have to do that. The reason I took the jewelry was because I didn't think you would ever miss it. You said yourself that you didn't even know what was up there."
"And I believe I also told you to stay the hell away from it."
She closed her eyes for a second. "Yeah, well I didn't take it, did I? That night I left, I had it in my hand, ready to go...and I couldn't do it. I put it back in there and I haven't touched it since. I just... forgot to put it back where it came from." She said this last bit almost casually, as if she was letting him know she'd forgotten to turn the coffee pot off.
"And that's all you have to say?" He kept looking at her intently.
"What else do you want me to say? I just explained to you what happened. What more do you want, Sawyer?" Now she was starting to get irritated.
"I don't know," he said bitterly. "Guess I shouldn't really expect anything more from you."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
He looked down at the pile of trinkets on the quilt. "You even know whose jewelry this was?"
She tried to resist rolling her eyes. "You know that I don't. Why would you even ask that?"
"How 'bout this one?" he went on, quietly, dangerously. He lifted the ring and held it up to show her.
She crossed her arms in front of her, not answering, knowing that at this point he wasn't really expecting an answer. She waited.
"This was my mom's wedding ring," he said, in the same tone of voice. "How much you think it'd be worth?" He tossed it in the air and caught it, looking at it almost experimentally. "How much you think you coulda got out of it to live on? Enough to stay in some cheap fleabag motel for a few days? Maybe buy a bus ticket...get you to another stoppin' point, till you figure out who to steal from next? How much mileage you think you coulda got out of my mom's wedding ring?" He looked at her almost lethally.
She held his gaze, now growing angry herself. "You know, I wouldn't think her wedding ring would mean all that much to you...considering what your dad did to her."
Almost immediately, she regretted saying it. But the words were already out. In a flash, he'd crossed the room and brought his palm down loudly onto the wall just inches away from her head, where she stood in the doorframe. She flinched, but made no effort to move. He leaned toward her, his face so close that she could feel his breath. She closed her eyes and swallowed, but otherwise remained still.
In a hoarse, furious whisper, he said, "Don't you ever mention my parents again. You don't know shit about my parents. You got that?"
Now she opened her eyes, slowly, and looked directly at him. In a calm, infuriating voice, she said, "You want to hit me, Sawyer? Then go ahead and do it. Don't take it out on the wall."
Now he removed his hand and stood up straighter, stepping back away from her a little. He looked at her incredulously, stunned.
In a contemptuous voice, he replied, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Then you could make this whole thing about me...take the focus off of what it's really about." He shook his head, almost laughing. "Nah. Sorry, Freckles. It's all you this time."
They remained silent for a few seconds, regarding each other warily.
Finally, Kate brought her hand up to her face, covering her eyes briefly as if she was hiding tears. When she lowered her arm, her eyes were dry, but it was clear that a change had taken place. She no longer looked angry, but instead, apologetic.
"I'm sorry," she almost whispered. "Is that what you're waiting for? I'm sorry, Sawyer," she repeated. "It happened right after I got here...before...before any of this, with us..." She gestured around the room, as if the explanation for their relationship was lurking somewhere near.
Turning her gaze back to him, her expression became almost pleading. "You have to know that I would never do anything like this now, with the way things are between us. Everything's different...I wouldn't even consider it."
He kept watching her, his face hardened.
"You know that, right?" she asked, near tears.
"All I know is that you're one hell of an actress. So I guess maybe I oughtta stop pretendin' that I know anything else about you."
She drew in her breath sharply, now looking as if he actually had hit her. His words were more painful than a physical blow could ever be.
"How can you say that?"
"Guess I shouldn't feel bad, though," he went on, almost to himself. "Hell, I probably ain't the only one, am I? I bet I'm just one in a series... You probably do this all the time, right? Find some poor bastard, get him to fall in love with ya, and then use him till you decide it's time to split?"
He realized he'd said too much almost before the words were out of his mouth. It was the one word - love - that neither of them had been brave enough to mention yet. He certainly hadn't intended to mention it like this. For a second, he hoped that she'd missed it in the overall insult, but he knew that was wishful thinking. She didn't miss anything.
She looked at him sadly, but with a question in her eyes, wanting him to confirm what she'd heard.
"Yeah," he said bitterly. "Guess my secret's out. Like you didn't already know it, anyway."
"Sawyer," she said gently, wanting to respond, but knowing now probably wasn't the best time for this particular issue. She sighed, wearily.
Glancing at the bed, she said, "Why are you doing this? The jewelry's right there...I didn't take it, and I didn't leave. I'm not planning to, either! So can we please just...drop this?"
"Don't think so," he said, obviously still bitter. "Not this time."
"Why?" She was genuinely confused.
"Because this ain't about the damn jewelry, sweetheart. Tell you the truth, I don't care if I never see it again."
"Then what's it about, then?"
He seemed to consider for a second. "It's about me realizin' that I'm livin' with a goddamn stranger."
Wounded, she looked away from him. "You really believe that?"
"You gonna deny it?" he asked savagely.
She didn't say anything, still refusing to look at him.
"You know, I've had a lotta one-night stands in my day...won't lie about that. Most of 'em were nothin' but trash. Guess I always thought that once I actually cared about someone, it would be different. That I'd actually know the person I was sleepin' with, for once." He shook his head. "Shoulda known I wasn't ever gonna get that with you."
"Please, stop."
She wiped away a tear, and then looked at him forcefully. Although her voice wavered, she continued. "You just said the other night...on my birthday...that you would take what you could get. Do you even remember that? Or does it not mean anything to you?"
"You're the one who said that, not me."
"But you agreed, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then...what? That isn't good enough anymore?"
He looked pained. "Guess not," he said truthfully.
She nodded slightly and made an effort to stop crying. "So...that's it? Just like that? After everything we've been through, that's what it comes down to?"
"That's up to you." He swallowed hard.
They looked at each other steadily, almost longingly.
When she didn't say anything, he broke their gaze, looking disappointed in her. Brushing past her, he went slowly toward the door.
"I'll be out on the porch if you feel like talkin.' If not..." He paused, appearing tortured, but forcing the words out anyway. "Then maybe it's about time for you to start makin' some other plans."
She closed her eyes again, feeling like somebody was stabbing her. To hear him say those words now, when she'd come to depend on him so much, was almost more than she could bear.
At the door, he paused, turning his head slightly back in her direction. In a tired voice, he spoke. "I can't do this no more, Kate. I don't know who the hell you are." He met her eyes one more time, and then turned and left the room.
She stood there without moving for a second, listening to him descend the stairs.
She now had a decision to make, and it was one of the hardest she'd ever been faced with. She could tell him everything, or she could leave...and keep her past sealed off, private, and her own...the way it had always been. She knew it wasn't fair of him to ask this of her. He hadn't been able to give up his search when she'd asked him to a few nights ago, so he had no right to demand anything of equal weight from her. But, fair or not, the options were clear. She could take it or leave it.
Feeling that her knees wouldn't support her much longer, she walked over and sank down onto the edge of bed. Lowering her head into her hands, she tried to make up her mind.
