That I always had.
His arms came around me, crushing me even closer. Not an inch separated us as our breaths mingled and our tongues did battle. Everywhere he touched me, I burned; every kiss ignited a new spark, but then he slowly released me and I gradually became cold again. Dazed, I blinked my eyes open only to see him scooting back. Chill air sliced a path between us.
He canvassed my face for several moments, his breath coming in short bursts. When I reached out, he dodged my hand. “You’ve got two paths,” he said. “One is a straight shot. It’s safe and predictable.” He gazed meaningfully into my eyes. “But there’s this other path. It’s less traveled and it’s full of surprises and detours. So which one do you want?”
“You. I choose you,” I insisted. “I’ll always choose you.”
His eyes slowly turned granite hard, as if the kiss and my admission hadn’t affected him at all. Several heartbeats passed before he went for the door again. Over his shoulder he said, “In case you missed it, I chose you a while ago.” He glared at Darien’s ring, then lifted his eyes back to me. “Far as I’m concerned, you’ve been cheating on me with him. So until you give him up, we’re done.” With that, he slammed out of the car and disappeared inside the garage. He didn’t look back.
I was still trembling when I pulled away from the gas station minutes later. He was right. How could I expect anything from him, much less a declaration of love, when I was engaged to another man? Besides, it wasn’t fair to Darien. As soon as I picked him up, I’d go somewhere quiet and tell him the truth. He deserved as much.
Halfway to the airport, my cell phone vibrated. Would I ever remember to connect the thing to Bluetooth? Scowling, I hooked my headset into the phone, eyed the incoming number, and wilted against the seat.
Auntie.
I took a deep breath and told myself it was time for brutal honesty. There had been enough lies. So I pooled my courage and didn’t bother with a ‘Hello.’ Instead, I just started speaking in a mad rush of words. “We need to talk,” I said. “First, I-I’m on my way to break things off with Darien. I’m just not in love with him. The truth is, I’m in love wi—”
“What?” She sounded breathless. “Look, I don’t know what you’re babbling about, but I’m at Temptation Memorial. Mead and Francine are on their way.”
“Dear lord, what’s happened?” I asked, shoving myself up.
My aunt hesitated long enough to scare the life out of me. “It’s Sears. They’re running tests now, but they think he’s had a heart attack.”
My stomach spasmed. “I’ll be right there, okay?”
I hung up with trembling hands, flipped the car into gear and sped down the interstate. My heart was skipping all over the place. Adrenaline burned. Without looking, I poked Darien’s speed-dial button.
“Hello,” he barked, four rings later.
I blinked. “Darien?”
“Oh, sorry, love—I’ve got an annoying client on the line.”
“Where are you?”
“Waiting for my bags. Is something wrong?”
“It’s Uncle Sears,” I said, trying to keep the panic from my voice. “They think it’s a heart attack.”
“Sweet Jesus.”
“He’s at Temptation Memorial.”
“Go on,” he told me. “I’ll grab a cab and meet you there.”
After we said our goodbyes, I was about to hang up, when I heard the audible click on his end, then…. “All right, I’m back,” he said in the same irritated tone I’d heard when he answered my call. “Look, Sears is in the hospital so don’t show up. Okay? You’ll only make this harder. We’re over.”
My breath caught.
“Kate? Are you there?”
Something in me…died. “No,” I bit out. “Try again.”
Ignoring Darien’s, “Oh, my God” and “Let me explain,” I pitched the headset and phone across the dashboard. The gadgets shattered on impact.
TRACE
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“Hi.” The soft voice reached out from the shadows.
I was walking past the first bay in the garage when I jarred to a stop. Angling around, I found Bev in the driver’s seat of a Speedster. Its door lay ajar. She wore black pedal pushers and an oversized sweater. Her legs were crossed, with one foot planted on the concrete, the other doing a frantic wag.
“What’re you doin’ here, Beverly?”
“We’ve got some things to settle.” Her husky voice echoed. “Cholly said you’d come back for your bike.”
I dragged my jacket off and tossed it aside, not caring where it landed. “You got two minutes.”
She stood and approached me with caution. “Do you know what it’s like to be in love with the wrong person?”
I stared into the darkness for a long while. “Yeah, I just might.”
“Maybe you can give me some advice then.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “Patrick is like a drug to me. How do I turn it off? How do I make it stop?”
Sadness welled. “Wish I knew.”
“I had that abortion ‘cause I was scared. Mama said if I didn’t, I’d be stuck with a baby and no husband. Least not a fit one.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “If I had to do it all again, I’d have my baby, with or without Patrick.”
I glanced off. “Beverly—”
“No! Hear me out. We’ve had enough heartache to last us a lifetime. Daddy’s gone. Mama. Cole….” She stood before me, trembling. “I left Patrick yesterday, so you’re all I got now. Don’t let me lose you too. I’m sick with missing you, Tracemore. Please, forgive me!”
She threw herself at me and buried her face in my shirt while I stood with my arms at my sides. Tears soaked the fabric, just like they had the day I was released, when she’d lifted the weight of the world off my soul.
This was Bev, warts and all. She’d stuck by me. Visited me in prison every week. Wrote. Called. Gave me strength to carry on. I had to forgive her, even though I knew she’d be back with Icky in a few days—a week tops.
That was a certainty.
The ice around my heart melted as I gathered her in my arms. “It’s all right, Bevy.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.” I squeezed her and kissed the top of her head. “Blood’s thicker than bullshit.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Big Break
TRACE
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“How long ago did she ring the bell?”
Amber tossed a toothbrush into her purse. “I dunno. Maybe five minutes.”
“Shit!” I threw a towel around my waist. Water poured off me onto the bathroom floor. “Why didn’t you just let her in?”
“I don’t like drama, shug.” She walked out and started toward my room. “Have you seen my ankle bracelet?”
“Check the dresser.”
I barreled into the hallway, raced down the stairs, and skidded to a stop at the landing. Winter stormed the house when I flipped on the outside light and tore the door open. The chill sliced into my shower-damp skin like a thousand blades. I swiped the wet hair from my eyes and the pitiable sight of Shannon came into focus.
She stood hunched over on my porch bathed in yellow light; the street beyond her was nearly pitch black. Her coat lay open. Corpse-pale, she shivered and her eyes were huge in her face. She appeared lost, dazed, and vulnerable. A strange sensation pierced my chest.
She was in pain and I felt it.
I drew her inside with one hand, my other fisted in the towel, holding it firmly around my hips. After I kicked the door shut, I braced her shoulder to steady her, then stooped until we were eye level.