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He doesn’t stop. He unlocks the door and opens it without even looking.
“What’s up?’ he asks in a somewhat cocky tone as he shoves his hands down the front of his waistband and adjusts himself.
“Good afternoon.” I hear the familiar voice of Ryan Bennett and freeze on the spot. “I’d like to speak to Lorraine.”
“About what?” Jason asks, not moving.
“A personal matter,” Ryan clips back.
“She’s busy,” Jason hisses.
“If that’s true, I’d like to hear it from her.” I see Ryan push past him, and Jason grabs the back of his collar.
“Did I invite you in?” he snarls.
“Jason,” I gasp as I walk toward them.
“You know this dickhead?” he asks as Ryan pulls away from him and stomps toward me.
I nod and swallow hard. “He was my sister’s boyfriend.”
“Christ, Lorraine.” Ryan looks around and points to the stairway. “What the hell is this? Where is all your furniture, your photos, a sign of life?”
“Why don’t you back the hell off, son?” Jason asks, walking toward me.
“Who the hell is this joker?” Ryan points at Jason.
“This is my . . . friend Jason,” I answer.
“Friend?” Ryan asks, seeming unconvinced.
I look at Jason, hoping I haven’t offended him. He seems to be questioning my answer as well.
“I certainly hope so,” I whisper.
Jason’s eyes widen just a bit before looking away from me to Ryan. “What can we do for you?”
“I heard through the grapevine she allowed someone to enter into her home,” Ryan says, looking around, “if that’s what the hell this is.” He looks back at me. “This needs to stop, Lorraine. You need to move on, have a life. If you can’t do it here, you can come back home. You smiled there, lived.” He walks around, waving his hand about, and then stops and looks at me. “We miss you. Come home.”
“This the doctor’s kid?” Jason asks.
I nod and look down.
“Well, Ryan,” Jason starts, “Lo has decided she’s gonna put this house of hell on the market and get herself a new place. She is working things out.”
“For two years, she’s been working things out. If she’s telling you that, she’s lying to you and herself.” I can tell by his tone that Ryan is angry at me.
I shake my head. “I’m not lying to anyone.”
“You should probably hit the road, Ryan,” Jason says firmly.
“Lorraine, you and I need to chat . . . alone. Please tell this . . . gentleman that you are fine with me here.”
I nod. “You were leaving anyway. I’m fine, Jason. I truly appreciate everything.” I look up at him, and he appears angry, but he finally nods.
“Take care, Lo.”
I walk him to the door, and when he opens it, I grab his arm. His body tenses, and then he pulls away.
“See ya, Lo.”
I feel an immediate sickness, a sadness, as he leaves without even a glance at me.
“Lock the door,” Ryan says in a quiet calm that is all him.
I shut the door and lock it then turn to him.
He looks at me with hunger and sadness in his eyes. “I have missed you so damn much.”
I don’t know what to say to him, but I don’t have time to say anything before he is in front of me, his arms wrapped around me. I hear a sigh as he kisses my head over and over again.
“Ryan,” I say softly. “Please don’t.”
“I can’t help it. I’m home now for good. I’m starting my residency at Henry Ford next week.” He pulls back and looks at me. “Dad told me about yesterday. He worries about you and wants you to come home. We can handle it. We can. I know it. I just want you to feel safe again.” He pauses, as if he is gathering his thoughts. “Lorraine?”
“Congratulations,” I say, stepping back and away from him.
He nods. “Thank you.” Then he turns and looks around the house. “I’m going to really help you this time. Let’s call the Realtor and start making this place presentable.”
“I can’t live with your family again,” I say quietly.
“That’s fine. We’ll get you a place.” He walks toward my parents’ room. “Somewhere in a building with security. Where the hell do you sleep?” He looks back at me.
“The basement,” I answer.
“Jesus Christ, I can’t have that. I can’t allow you to do that. It’s over. You need to move forward.” He walks toward me and stops. “I’ve changed. I am ready to move forward and really live again. It’s time for you to do the same.”
Chapter Twelve
Jason
The getup frustrates me. The wig, the makeup, all the black clothing—it all eats at me. Watching her fluff her hair and smack her lipstick-covered lips irritates me more. What the hell is she doing? She climbs into her Impala, and even the car pisses me off. How do the levelheaded eyes of an angel nurse go from one extreme to another?
