"Yeah, I have. And I lost her."
Pain again. I hear it sharp and brittle in his voice. "You broke up."
"She took her own life."
"Because you broke up?" As soon as I say it, I wish I could haul the words back. Sometimes my brain works far ahead of my sense of social etiquette. I was trying to figure out what exactly happened, and I should have been thinking about speaking carefully so I didn't hurt him more.
"No, while we were dating. She killed herself while we were together. While I was in love with her and I thought she was in love with me." He shakes his head. "There are a lot of reasons you should stay away from me-"
"And one of them is that you have a broken heart," I say softly. A broken heart that hasn't healed. Maybe the time he's spent with me reminds me of how much he misses her. "You've had a lot of terrible things happen."
"I'm aware of that," he snaps.
That hurts. I know I said a clumsy thing, but it hurts that he attacked it-and me. Maybe this is why he was willing to risk his life racing bikes. He lost someone he loved, so he doesn't care about his own life.
But that's wrong.
I need to find a way to get him out of racing.
The car stops. We've reached the concert. Without saying another word, I get out of his truck. He gets out too.
"What are you doing?"
"I don't know. I'm sorry. I can't just drive away from you." He pushes through the crowd at the entrance to the pub, and I follow him in. We stand side-by-side, but he doesn't say a word. He buys me a soft drink without asking if I want one.
He's still in love with someone else. I have to accept that.
It doesn't change the fact I care about him. It just means we aren't going to have a relationship.
It doesn't change my determination to save him from the deadly thugs who are using him as a pawn.
As the crowd grows to watch the band, Sawyer leaves me to get more drinks. Standing on tiptoes, I see him over the crowd. He's carrying two glasses of Coke, but he's been waylaid by a girl.
It's Shanelle. She looks a little tipsy-apparently she had a few drinks before coming here. She is draped over Sawyer's arm, stroking his shoulder and giggling.
Shanelle knows Sawyer and I are dating. She is supposed to be my friend, but apparently all is fair when a guy like Sawyer is concerned. And she did have a one night stand with him.
I wonder how intimately they … talked that night.
That's what really grips my heart and twists. Did he share as much with her as he did with me? Was it just sex between them? Did he give her the same gorgeous smiles he gave me?
Uh, of course he did. That is how he smiles.
But did he open his heart to her?
They talk together in low voices. I move closer, feeling like an idiot. I have no right to listen in and I'm going to leave, when I hear Shanelle use my name.
"Claire's whole plan was to have a one night stand with you and learn some seduction techniques. Then apply them to Trey, this guy she's been crazy about since high school," she tells Sawyer. "She was using you to teach her about sex."
It shouldn't matter. I mean, I know now that he is still grieving. But his expression changes. His mouth hardens and his eyes go cold. "I didn't know that," he says.
"It's totally true," she says. "I assumed that's why you two have been together for more than one night. A course in great sex apparently takes longer."
He looks around. I slip behind a large Yardley football player-who is fairly huge even without his protective equipment-and hide.
I don't know why I'm hiding.
So I step out again, right in front of Sawyer.
We're outside, in the parking lot. The concert is over and Sawyer is taking me home. I know I have to be honest. "I heard you talking to Shanelle. I didn't mean to overhear, but I was close to you, and when she mentioned my name, I listened."
Sawyer leans back against the door of his truck. He's studying me. "That Trey guy-he was the one who talked to me at the party."
I hate to admit it now. "Yes, that was Trey."
Sawyer's dark blond brows draw together. "You like him?"
"I did in high school. Years ago. It was a stupid, meaningless crush, based solely on Trey's looks as I had no idea he lacks both brain and personality."
Sawyer's lips twitch in a smile for a second, but it disappears. "So that's why you wanted to go to bed with me? To learn how to seduce that asshole?"
"No! I mean-"
"It is, Claire. That's why you propositioned me, which I have discovered is very unlike you."
"I-" I'm floundering. I did want to experience sex. I did think Sawyer was gorgeous. My heart had been broken by seeing Trey with another girl. "I don't know why I did it. But when I-uh, when we made love, I did not care about Trey. I don't care about him."
He looks so hurt. I can't understand it. He just told me that I made him unhappy, and that he was in love with someone else-someone he couldn't forget. How can he be hurt by a stupid crush I had on Trey that is now over? Is his pride hurt because he thought I had been crazy about him from when I first saw him and that was why I propositioned him?
He's had one blow after another: losing his girlfriend, having his mother reject him, losing Jaxon, having to do whatever a group of violent criminals want him to do.
"I couldn't care less about Trey now," I say. "I do care about you. Even if you don't want us to date, I won't stop caring about you."
"I care about you." He approaches me, his head tipped down. He holds my gaze. "I really care about you. I guess it scares me. My girlfriend's name was Kerry. I knew she was unhappy about stuff at home, but I acted like she didn't need help. I acted like she didn't need anyone other than me. She really needed to talk to someone who knew how to help her through depression. My stupidity hurt her. My stubborn need to be the most important person in her life killed her. Because if I'd been supportive and got help for her, she wouldn't have committed suicide-"
"You don't know that," I gasp. "And you were young, too. I don't think it was your fault."
"I've been afraid to tell anyone about that. You're the only person who knows."
I get up on my tiptoes and touch my lips to his. After wanting to learn how to kiss, I know how to kiss Sawyer now. Tenderly. Lovingly.
He cups my face and returns my kiss.
When we stop and take ragged breaths, he looks deeply into my eyes. "I can't understand how you can accept me, now that you know about this."
"Well, I do," I say.
"After everything I've said to you, are you willing to spend the night with me?" he asks.
Oh God, of course. "Yes," I whisper.
On Saturday, I meet Sawyer at our diner-that is how I think of it now-for breakfast. I can tell he is distracted. He didn't order a large breakfast. He's just drinking coffee.
I pry, poke, prod, and beg him to tell me what's going on. Finally I sigh. "Okay, Sawyer. I care about you, but I can't just stand by and let you continue to be in danger. I don't care if you need the money. I don't care if you hate me for the rest of my life. I'm going to go to the local cops right now if you don't tell me what's going on."
He jolts up and gapes at me.
"I'd rather lose you than see you end up dead, Sawyer."
He winces. "I talked to Helman last night. He made it clear that my mother would get hurt unless I do what he wants."
"God, Sawyer, this has to stop! You've got to go to the cops. This is crazy."
"Claire, I'm buying time right now. I'm going to do what he wants. I'm going to keep winning money for him, while I figure out how to get out of this. If I go to the cops now, I have no way of ensuring Mom is safe." He drinks the rest of his coffee. After the waitress brings one for me and refills his, he slips a silver flask out of his pocket and sloshes in a liquid I am sure must be Bailey's. Which he should not be drinking in here.
"I do know of one way out," he adds grimly. "If Helman were dead, I'd be free."
Oh God. God. God. Fear makes my veins ice up. "Sawyer, you can't do that. You could be arrested for murder. You could spend your whole life in jail. You-you wouldn't really do it, would you?"
I'm so terrified, my hands are shaking. The thing is: I really don't know Sawyer well enough to know what he is capable of doing if he's pushed into a corner. The thought of him being willing to kill scares me. I mean, I understand. When I was being bullied in high school, I used to say that I wished Heather, my main tormentor, was dead. But in my heart, I didn't really want her to die. I just wanted her to leave me the hell alone.
Murder isn't a solution. Sawyer would be giving up his entire life. "Sawyer, answer me. You can't do something like that."
"I won't, Claire."
"Please don't race tonight."
"That I can't promise, Claire. You're supposed to go out tonight with your friends. Go and have a good time."