Misfit(116)

“Fee, he doesn’t want to lose you, either. He just doesn’t believe he’s equipped for a relationship.” Stretch smirked at Cash. “Now I’m talking for you. Feel better?”

Cash flipped Stretch off, stood, then stalked to the kitchen.

Tired of standing, Fee returned to her seat on the sofa, although she put a little distance between her and Stretch. Nervous at how he’d taken her honesty, she twisted strands of hair around her fingers. She couldn’t make that final step of leaving. Based on Stretch’s silence and Cash’s disappearance, she should make her excuses. If she ran from this now, however, she’d never know the truth.

“Fee?”

Stretch’s soft voice halted her. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him, kissing her mouth. “You’re so special. Amazing. You bared your soul to us. That took so much courage. More than I’ll ever have.”

His sadness compelled Fee to wrap her arms around him. “You’re very courageous,” she whispered, settling her head on his shoulder. “You fought to survive.”

“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t. I didn’t deserve it.”

“If you hadn’t deserved to survive, you wouldn’t have.”

He kissed her forehead. “Spiritual advice?”

Was it? She hadn’t meant it that way. Her mother taught her to never push her beliefs on anyone. “I was brought up to never discuss religion and politics in polite company.”

“Polite company? You’d have to be around polite people first,” he said dryly, tucking hair behind her ear.

She laughed, her insides warming when he laughed, too. “Do you know what I’ve always wondered?” she started, lulled by the sound of Stretch’s voice and the feel of his body against hers. This could be a fleeting moment. When Cash returned, they might decide she was out, something she’d have to accept.

“What have you always wondered?”

“Your road name. How’d you get it?”

“From his asshole father,” Cash answered, his voice startling her and Stretch apart.

Cash leaned against the doorframe.

“His father?” she repeated, wondering how long he’d been there, unable to detect his thoughts with his closed expression. “I thought you were given your name based on your personality, or something.” She couldn’t remember Meggie’s explanation.

Walking back to his chair, Cash sat, placing another six pack of beer on the table. Instead of lining them up like little soldiers, he slid the carton closer to her. “Normally, that’s how you get your road name.”

When she didn’t move to take a beer, Cash took one and handed it to her, then grabbed a second and held it out to Stretch.

Stretch accepted the cold bottle. “Thank you.”

Cash got one for himself and opened it. “Stretch didn’t get his road name from us, though. He was once tall and skinny. His mother said it seemed as if he went to sleep one night and had his body stretched on a machine.” Relaxing against his seat, he took a casual sip of beer. “His father went with it and the name stuck. Later, the asshole turned the name into something ugly and dirty.”

Cash stared at Stretch, a message—a question—in his eyes.

“You remembered that?” Stretch asked in a quiet, incredulous voice, explaining Cash’s look. It seemed to say ‘I hear you more than you know.’

“Yes.” Cash sidled a glance at Fee. “I know that you cut your hair quite short and kept it in gelled spikes to get out of Zoann’s shadow. You wanted to have your own identity, separate and apart from her. I know you love her deeply, that she’s the one you always felt closest to, but didn’t like how your mother compared you to her. I know you felt obligated to stick with your sisters when your mother was killed, despite your feeling that you all were deserting your brother.”

“Cash,” she breathed, moved beyond words. They’d discussed her family and where she felt she fit, only once. In recent months, her belief that Cash listened to her, had wavered. He’d been so focused on physical pleasure.

“I remember everything the two of you have ever told me. At times too well.” He had no hint of arrogance, or condescension, or any assholery. “I don’t believe that I have what it takes to make a relationship work,” he repeated for the countless time. “I’ve never really tried, especially with us. It can’t work, Ophelia. You shouldn’t have to be hidden away. As long as you’re with us, you can’t be out in the open. Not only would your brother have a problem, but so would the entire world.”