Samantha Young - Fall From India Place

“No, you do know. I’ve never lied to you, Hannah. Not once.”

“Well, if that night was so amazing how come you couldn’t get out of there fast enough afterward? How come you left me lying there in that skeezy flat, feeling used and absolutely worthless?”

Looking pained by my questions, Marco suddenly drew a hand down his face.

I waited.

“I hate myself for making you feel that way,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

My heart was beating so hard against my chest it hurt. “Why, then?”

Understanding my question, he sat back in his chair, his jaw taut. “You were Hannah. You were this great girl who made me laugh and looked at me like I was worth something, and every year you got more beautiful.”

His words made my heart flip over in my chest.

“You were too good for me. I knew that the first time I walked you home. Pure class from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes. Not for me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Marco exhaled heavily. “I told you I didn’t get along with my grandfather or my uncle. And what I meant was that I really didn’t get along with them. From the moment I could walk Nonno made sure I thought I was a piece of scum, worthless. He told me I was nothing and that I would never amount to anything. He said I was just like my mom and dad, and that every life I’d touch, I’d ruin. He drilled that into me.”

I couldn’t help myself. Even after everything, I was hurt and angry on his behalf when he said those things. “He sounds like a bitter old bastard.”

Marco gave a huff of laughter. “You’d be right. But he was the only father figure I had. So, despite Nonna’s attempts to soften my grandfather’s blows, I believed him. It got so I was almost trying to prove him right. I grew up with this kid in my neighborhood. His stepdad was kind of a prick to him too. We were friends mostly because of our mutual hate for them. As we got older, Jamal started doing stupid shit like breaking into people’s homes, stealing stuff, vandalism, and all that crap, and I went along for the ride. Then when we were almost sixteen he got recruited into a gang.”

My eyes widened. “A gang gang?”

“A gang gang.” Marco’s eyes were dark with the memories. “He told me some of the stuff they made him do and it pissed me off, but at the same time I kept thinking how much it would really piss off Nonno if I got mixed up in that shit. I think the only thing that stopped me from taking it that far was Nonna and the rest of our family. Still, I did think about it.

“But then one night I was hanging out with Jamal and a couple of the guys from his crew, and they were trying to convince me to join. They waylaid this neighborhood girl Jamal liked.” His gaze drifted off over my left shoulder and I knew he was re-seeing it all. “I didn’t want to believe it… that he was going to rape her, but he started touching her and she was crying and he wouldn’t…” His eyes flicked back to me, hard now. “I jumped him and she got away, but his friends started in on me and it was three against one. I think if Jamal hadn’t convinced them to stop they would have killed me. As it was, I ended up in the hospital and I told my grandparents what had happened. That’s when they got on the phone to my uncle Gio and somehow convinced him and Aunt Gabby to adopt me and bring me over to the UK to get away from it all. They tracked my mom down and got her to sign the papers and by the time I turned sixteen it was all done and I was suddenly in Scotland.”

“And your grandfather? Didn’t he think what you did for that girl was heroic?”

Marco scoffed. “Heroic? No. He called me a worthless, stupid, ignorant piece of shit. He said a father’s blood always tells and my blood was telling.”

My own blood turned red-hot. “Your grandfather’s a dick of the highest order.”

“My grandfather’s dead.”

I tensed. “What?”

He sighed, leaning forward again. “The morning after we slept together Nonna called to tell us Nonno had died of a heart attack. I flew back to Chicago that night with my aunt and uncle.”

“That’s why you left Scotland?”

“Yeah. My aunt and uncle returned to Scotland but I didn’t come back for a year because I wanted to make sure Nonna was okay and I… I had a difficult time letting go of the fact that I was never going to get closure with my grandfather. I was never going to get an apology or whatever validation it was I was looking for from him. I tried to find peace, but I couldn’t, so I decided to come back here.”

I pushed my fork around my plate. “I understand all that, Marco, and I’m sorry he ever made you feel that way, I am. I’m truly sorry. But that doesn’t explain why you left me in that room after I gave you my virginity and told you I loved you. It doesn’t explain why you never tried to look me up since coming back.”

The sudden intensity in Marco’s gaze captured me. His voice sounded even rougher than usual as he replied, “I left you because I thought I didn’t deserve to touch you. I felt like a selfish bastard for having sex with you because… I felt like I was nothing because he told me I was nothing, and scum like me didn’t deserve to touch you, let alone take what you gave me. But I got so caught up in you and how much I wanted you I forgot all that… until you told me you loved me.”

I felt cold, remembering the moment well.

“When we met… at first the situation with Jenks just reminded me of Jamal and the girl. It didn’t matter if I didn’t know you. I was there, I saw that shit happening and I knew what Jenks was like, so I wasn’t going to stand there and let that happen to you. I walked you home because I didn’t want him to circle back on you.

“I stood outside the school gates to make sure you were okay because after I walked you home that one time I thought you deserved someone looking out for you. You were a funny, smart, kind girl, and you looked at me in a way no one had before. Like I had something interesting to say and you wanted to hear all about it. That felt better than you can imagine. I wanted to feel that way again. I got addicted to feeling that way whenever you were around. I even started hoping for reasons for you to miss that bus home. I let something happen that I thought I shouldn’t have. I let us get close.

“I didn’t want you to love me, Hannah, because I was terrified I’d hurt you, and, yeah, I know that sounds fucked up now since I hurt you by walking out on you, but at the time I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“A favor?” I guffawed. “I thought I was in love with you. I let myself be vulnerable with you in every way I could and you scrambled off me as if you couldn’t bear to be near me. You broke my heart.”

Marco clasped his hands into a fist, resting his chin on them. “I know,” he whispered back. “I’ve never regretted anything more in my life. It was fucked up and stupid and if I could take that moment back I would.”

“All of it?” I found myself asking.

His eyes drifted to my lips and then back up to my eyes again. “No,” he replied, his voice thick. “Just the part where I left you.”

“If you feel that way, why didn’t you come back to me when you returned to Scotland?”

“Because I didn’t feel that way then. Nothing magically changed when Nonno died, Hannah. I still felt worthless for a very long time.”

“When did it change? Why?”

Marco’s gaze lowered and he gave a tiny shake of his head. “I don’t know. It was nothing. Everything. I grew up, I worked hard, and I began to find value in myself. Somewhere, bit by bit, day by day, I found self-worth. I found it by proving that bastard wrong.”

“I’m glad you found that,” I told him honestly. “But that still doesn’t tell me why after that you didn’t come find me.”

“Because by then years had passed, Hannah. I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t know if I could stand to have you look at me like I was nothing after it took me so long to feel about myself the way you used to look at me.”

“Until the wedding?”

“Until the wedding,” he agreed, heat entering his eyes now. “It was a shock to see you there, but seeing you again… God, I thought I knew how much I missed you until I saw you again. I know I came on strong trying to get you to talk to me, and I’m sorry if I freaked you out… but you didn’t look at me like I was worthless at the wedding. You looked pissed, but it wasn’t this fucking awful thing I’d built up in my head. With that fear gone, I just really needed the chance to apologize and I was willing to do anything I could to get that chance.”

Something inside me, something I wanted desperately to ignore, exalted at his confession. “And now that you’ve explained everything… what do you want from me?”

“Forgiveness,” he answered sincerely. The sincerity quickly dissipated under the weight of the intensity that entered his expression. That look filled the whole room until I felt stifled by it. “And a second chance to get to know you.”

With my body physically responding to him, I narrowed my eyes and fought to ignore that response. “In what way?”

“Not just as friends, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I jerked back in my seat at his blunt reply. “You’re not even going to pretend to want to be just friends so you can try a sneak attack for more?”

Marco stared at me with serious determination. “I’m not going to hide that I want to get to know who you are now. I’m also not going to hide the fact that I think you’re still the classiest, most fucking beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, or the fact that I remember the taste of you and it still makes me hard.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“Hannah?” He frowned at my silence.

I reached for my beer and took a long swallow, trying to collect myself.

“Hannah?”

My eyes clashed with his. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say ‘Marco, I forgive you and, yes, I want to get to know you again.’”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” I whispered.

For a minute I thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but suddenly he stood up. I tilted my head back, watching warily as he strode around the table to tower over me. I sucked in my breath as he leaned down, his heat hitting me, his cologne wafting over me, and I couldn’t suppress the shiver that cascaded down my spine when he pressed his warm lips to my cheek. My eyes round with surprise, I gaped at him as he straightened and said, “I’ll give you a couple of days to think about it.”

I stared woefully at the wall in front of me decorated with Cole’s tattoo art. The buzz of the tattoo needle next door played a sound track to Saturday lunch with my best friend. Cole was working at INKarnate and I’d stopped by with food so we could hang out on his lunch break.

I could feel his eyes burning into me.

Giving in to his silent question, I turned to meet his gaze.

He sipped his coffee and continued to stare at me without saying anything.

“What?” I shrugged before biting into my sandwich.

“As grateful as I am for you bringing me lunch, I am wondering if I should count on silence from you from now on?”

Swallowing my food, I rolled my eyes. “What, we can’t just sit in comfortable silence?”

“You didn’t come here to sit in comfortable silence.” Cole relaxed into his seat, putting his feet up on the part of the tattoo chair my arse wasn’t covering. “You came here to talk, so talk.”

“But that would make me the whiniest best friend on the planet.”

“I’ll take whiny over mute.”

I snorted, and turned slightly to face him. “You know exactly what I’m going to say.”

“Hmm.” He crossed his arms over his chest with a mock pensive look on his face. “Is it Marco in the drawing room with the candlestick?”

“Har-de-har-har.” I made a face at him.

Cole grinned unrepentantly.

“I had dinner with Marco a week ago.”

My friend’s eyebrows rose. “And I’m just hearing about this now?”

“Well, I’ve been taking some time, going over and over everything he said. He wants a second chance. At everything.”

“Everything as in… a relationship, not just friendship?”

“Yes.”

“Did he explain why he left?”

“His grandfather died. He went back to the States to be with his grandmother. He has a lot of self-esteem issues because of his grandfather and he just thought… basically he thought I was too good to be in his life and that’s why he never told me he was leaving, and that’s why he never got in touch when he came back.”