I hung my head. I was all out of answers. “I just can’t. I’m just…I’m sorry.”
Sandy’s voice was icy and sarcastic when she spoke. Not that I blamed her. She had every right. “Oh, great. Well, that explains everything.”
I stood, two fat tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Seriously?! Crying? If you feel so bad about this, why are you doing it then?”
“I have to.” My tone was final. It invited no argument. Of course, Sandy had never needed to be invited to an argument to join it.
“What do you mean? That makes no sense. I mean, why? No one has a gun to your head. Is someone blackmailing you? What?!”
“I just have to, Sandy. It’s not something I can explain. I just have some things I need to work through here, and I need some time to do it.”
“Holy freaking hell, Little Miss Mystery!” Sandy jumped up and started to pace around the small room. “No. No! You can’t do this. I mean what in the name of God could make you flake on our trip the day before we leave for the airport, and exactly…” She glanced down at her watch. “Oh, awesome. Exactly ten freaking minutes before we’re supposed to meet Cat and Michelle and Evelyn to go shopping for the very trip you’re flaking on? Hmmm?”
I gave her a sad smile. “I’ll let you go on that shopping trip solo. I have a feeling you’re going to have some very choice words to say about me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. Don’t do me any favors. You being there wouldn’t stop me. I’d say them in front of you.”
I couldn’t help sending her an affectionate smile at that. “I’m well aware. But I’ll give you some time to vent to the girls about me. You deserve it.”
“No. Uh-uh. Don’t do that. Don’t be all martyr-y and self-sacrificing. And you still haven’t explained to me why—”
“Hi, Sandcastle.”
I turned at the sound of the male voice in the doorway.
Holy shit. It was Hunter, Sandy’s best friend since childhood. They’d always had a “will they, won’t they” thing going on, but something had happened after graduation, and they hadn’t spoken in almost a year. I didn’t know what, but I knew it must’ve been bad. Sandy—the girl who loved to tell me everything about everything, far more than I even wanted to know, in fact—wouldn’t tell me word one about it.
Sandy backed up a couple of steps, tears in her eyes.
“How are you?” Hunter’s voice was tender, but hesitant.
Sandy made a sound like a frog croak. Oh, shit. She was really thrown for a loop!
Then, though, she pulled herself together in classic Sandy fashion, straightening up regally. “Fine.”
“I call bullshit.” Hunter’s voice had a spark of amusement in it.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re not fine. In fact, you’re so very loudly not fine that I could hear you yelling all the way down the street.”
Sandy’s cheeks reddened. Hunter had always been the only one who could affect her like that.
Hunter grinned. “From what I, and the rest of the neighborhood, could hear, there’s some kind of trip coming up that Brandy can’t go on.”
“It’s fine. We’re just… in the process of working it out.”
I had to jump in, there. That was a misconception I had to correct before it took on a life of its own. “No, Sandy. I’m sorry, but there’s no working it out. I can’t go.”
Sandy narrowed her eyes.
Hunter spoke up, his voice rushed. “I’ll go.”
Sandy and I both turned to look at him and said in unison, “What are you talking about?”
Hunter took a step toward Sandy and looked deep into her eyes. “If you want me to, I’ll go.”
Sandy adopted an air of indifference that a blind person would’ve known was fake. “Whatever. Do what you want.”
I jumped on the opportunity. I had to solidify this before Sandy changed her mind. “Great. Settled, then. I’ll just go log into the airline’s website and change the name on the ticket.”
With that, I spun and practically ran out of the house. My luck had just taken a rare turn for the better. I had to get out of there before something happened that would bring everything crashing down.
Chapter 3
Brandy
I dropped my duffel bag into the trunk and climbed into the driver’s seat. Was I really doing this? Taking off on a road trip by myself to see if my crazy, drunk mother had told me a huge lie in her alcohol-fueled stupor or if she’d finally let the truth slip? When I put it that way, it sounded utterly insane.
But…that didn’t change the fact that I had to know. I had to find the truth, and it wasn’t the kind of thing that could get handled with a phone call.
If I was going to find out if the man whose name and address were scrawled on the slip of paper in my wallet was really and truly my father, I was going to have to meet him face to face and look him in the eye. There was no other way.
I glanced at my watch, then laughed at myself when I realized I was unconsciously keeping track of when Sandy’s plane was going to take off.
She was three hundred miles away, getting on a plane that would carry her three thousand miles away, and I still couldn’t break the habit of taking care of her. Of keeping track, at any rate, so that I’d be prepared if the “taking care of” part suddenly became required.
Which was not an unprecedented event.
My stomach swirled with a sick churning as I thought about Sandy. I hated it when we fought. More to the point, I hated it when she was mad at me.
I was a people pleaser. I realized that. I wasn’t unaware of my own issues; I’d just been powerless to change them.
I squared my shoulders. Until now, anyway. I was determined that this trip was going to be a turning point. My mother could cool her heels in jail, sleeping off her drunk and disorderly charges until I came back for all I cared. Or she could find somebody else willing to bail her out. Either way. I was done letting her problems become my problems.
In fact, in a rare defiant move, I’d actually decided to borrow her car to make the trip up to Missoula. First of all, I’d actually paid for the thing using the money I earned at my afternoon job in high school. So, technically, it was my car.
But the main thing was, I knew that as soon as she was released and I wasn’t in town to give her a ride, there was only one possible course of action—she’d get pissed at me for not being around when she needed something, then she’d inevitably get drunk (her standard response to being angry…or happy, or sad, or anything, really), and then she’d drive.
So, by taking this car, I could actually be saving her life.
I had no problem leaving her to her own devices for a week, but I felt a lot better about it knowing she wouldn’t have easy access to wheels.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
Sandy could handle herself on vacation; my mother could handle herself here in Arcata. Everyone—for just one week, at least—was on their own.
I took another deep breath to quell the fear brewing in my belly. It felt so strange—taking off and pursuing something for myself, leaving my mom and sister to their own devices. But, at the same time, it felt utterly thrilling. Like the world was opening up to me, full of nothing but brilliant possibilities.
Besides – I deserved to cut loose a little. Be free, and have fun. The tingle in my belly transformed to excitement.
This could be my chance to channel Sandy, be reckless and have a freaking adventure. Nobody depending on me but me.
It was a new feeling, but I liked it! I wondered if this must be how Sandy felt all the time. If so, maybe I’d make it a goal to try to channel her a little more often.
I smiled and turned the key in the ignition, then looked over my shoulder as I backed down the driveway. Time to head out into that big, wild world and see what it had for me.
Chapter 4
Brandy
Well, shit.
It was hard to believe that it had only been eight hours since I’d pulled out of my driveway, feeling empowered, confident, and hopeful about the future.
Now, sitting in my car on the side of a lonesome Montana road, watching tendrils of steam rise from my engine, I felt no empowerment, no confidence, and no hope.
I felt like a damn idiot.
And, as the sky at the edges of the horizon grew purple, I began to also feel a creeping terror. After all, here I was, a young girl alone in a car on a rarely-traveled road in the middle of nowhere. And night was falling. Classic horror movie fodder. At least I was the “good girl.” If anyone had a chance of surviving the horror movie, it was the good girl. If Scream were to be believed, at any rate.
I held up my cell phone again. Still no bars.
Dammit.
I didn’t know what to do. If I struck out on foot, thinking I could find a cell signal, I might get eaten by a bear. Or, you know… slaughtered by the chainsaw-wielding villain I was busy inventing in my mind.
But if I stayed in the car, it could be days before anyone decided to stop and help me. I could die of cold. Or thirst.
Or boredom.
I grinned. Sometimes I’d hear deadpan quips in my mind in Sandy’s voice, and they never failed to make me smile. It was like always having my twin with me in some small way. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to imagine what Sandy might say to me in this situation.
“God, Bran, take a pill. Take several. Everything’s going to work out fine!”
It worked. Of course, it also brought up an old resentment—the fact that Sandy had the freedom to be so cavalier about everything working out fine in situations like these was because I was the one who took care of everything and made them turn out fine. That was the reason I was even on this little solo jaunt, spending my spring break in a car alone, hunting down the prospect of a father that our drunken mother had always told us was a ghost. Because I had to know if it was real before I told Sandy. Everything was about protecting Sandy.
I noticed how white my knuckles had gotten and how a pattern was starting to form. First, the parking lot of the dive bar the other night, now this. If I kept it up, I’d have to look into buying a steering wheel made of coal. It wouldn’t be long before I had diamonds.
Collapsing against the headrest, I closed my eyes and sighed. I had to make a choice—stay or go. Not making a choice, I reminded myself in the “imperious schoolmarm” voice that I sometimes found weirdly motivating, is a choice in itself.
I nodded. Hiking through the wilderness, it was. I could die either way, I figured. And I’d rather die taking action than sitting on my ass.
I climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut with a satisfying bang. I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing, but just moving felt good, whether it was in the right direction or not.
I hadn’t even taken two steps, though, before I heard it—the loud rumble that could only come from one thing. A Harley. Hell, I’d heard that sound often enough when picking my mother up from one bar or another, I’d recognize it anywhere.
I shaded my eyes and looked down the road in either direction, and that’s when I saw a dust cloud rising against the pastel brilliance of the sunset, getting closer with each passing second.
Yes!
I didn’t even know who it was yet. I didn’t even know if they’d stop. But, I couldn’t help it—for the moment, at least, I was flooded with some of Sandy’s unfounded-but-no-less-enthusiastic-because-of-it optimism. Help was on the way!
As the rider drew closer, I could make out more and more details about him. Well, first of all, the fact that it was a him.
Second, he was dressed all in black—jeans, leather jacket, heavy boots, and shades.
God, he looked like a character out of a movie. The enigmatic, wandering hero, traveling from town to town, helping those in need and leaving before anyone got too close. If this were a movie or TV show, he might not even have a name. He’d just be “The Man.”
Well, I prayed that “The Man” would see fit to stop and help me, because I was certainly in need.
I jumped up and down and waved my arms in the air, feeling like an idiot and not caring one little bit. Desperation will do that to you.
To my profound relief, he slowed and then came to a stop as he approached me and my non-functioning car. I tried to remind myself that this was not a done deal yet. Just because he’d stopped didn’t mean he was going to help; nothing was set in stone.
It was no use, though. I’d gotten so far ahead of myself that I couldn’t even see me in the rearview mirror at this point.
He planted one boot firmly on the ground and swung the other lazily over his bike, then strode slowly toward me like he had all the time in the world.
Holy ghost of James Dean, I think this guy might be the sexiest man in the entire world.
The thought popped into my head completely unbidden, and so did the flutters that claimed my belly like a herd of rogue butterflies.
My eyes widened, glued to the way his body moved as he came toward me—sleek and controlled, like a panther.
The army of butterflies moved south, and I had to reach out and put my hand on my car to steady myself.
He was tall and imposing. Muscular. The thought of those arms scooping me up and crushing me to his ripped pecs popped into my eyes and, just for a moment, my vision blurred and I felt faint.
He stepped up to me and stood close. It wasn’t exactly inappropriately close. It was nothing you could point to. But he was definitely inside my circle of personal space, and I definitely wasn’t complaining about it.
Just as languidly as he’d done everything else since I’d first laid eyes on him, he reached up and pulled off his sunglasses, giving me full view of the deepest brown eyes I’d ever looked into. I thought that I could get lost in those eyes if I let myself. In fact, maybe I already was.
And then, he spoke. And that was it. His rich, deep voice completely did me in. Stole my breath—and every thought out of my head—in one fell swoop.
“Good evening, ma’am. Do you need some help?”
Chapter 5
Brandy
I had to take a moment to catch my breath.
The prime specimen of man who’d just walked toward me was more than I could take in at the moment. Not only was he good looking—as in, almost too perfect to be a real human being—but he exuded sexiness.
Had I passed out and this was a fever dream?
Or maybe I’d died and gone to heaven?
He smiled and put out his hand. Fuck, he was charming, too? That should be illegal. How was I supposed to have any kind of defense in the face of that?
“I’m Clay,” he said, sounding friendly and warm. “What’s your name?”
“It’s…it’s Brandy,” I stumbled, and damn if I wasn’t blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush.
I reached out and grasped his hand to shake it, electricity zipping up my arm from the point of contact. I felt the strong press of his palm against mine all over my body, like a phantom touch. I’d never felt this alive before. Clay touching me, even the most innocent touch, set my body on fire.
“Brandy,” he said, his voice ratcheting up the flames licking at my skin, “do you need some help, here?”
He gestured at my steaming engine with his chin, which brought me crashing down to earth, thinking about the broken-down car.
It also made me realize that I still hadn’t let go of his hand, so I snatched it back, a flush rising in my cheeks. “Oh, yes! My car. It’s, um…”
“Broken down?” he supplied with a smile.
“Yeah.” I laughed and covered my face with my hands. “Sorry, I don’t know where my head is.”
“Don’t worry,” he assured me, putting his hand on my shoulder, a simple gesture which sent my head spinning. “I’m gonna call a tow truck, and we’ll get this whole thing taken care of.”
I felt hope flooding my chest for a mo
ment. He’s a knight in shining armor! He’s going to take care of everything!
But that was short-lived as the reality of the situation crashed in on me.
“You won’t be able to do that,” I said, my shoulders slumping. “There’s no cell reception out here.”
He grinned. “No problem. I’ve got a sat phone.”
“Sat phone?”
“A satellite phone. I ride in some pretty remote areas. It pays to be safe.”
I tilted my head, my lips turning up just a bit. “I’m really lucky that the person who happened across me was such a Boy Scout.”
He leaned in closer to me, slowly, drawing out each movement until we were almost pressed against each other. We weren’t quite touching, but I could feel the heat coming off of his body. My eyes widened, my skin flushed, and my breathing got shallow and fast. But I didn’t take even a small step backward. I wouldn’t give in that easily. I just tilted my head up at a steeper angle to look at him.
He continued to lean in just as slowly until his lips were just millimeters from my ear. I could feel his rapid breath against the skin of my neck. I was sure he could feel my hot breath against his ear and neck, too.
Finally, he whispered, “No one’s ever mistaken me for one of those before. Make no mistake. I may be prepared, but I’m no Boy Scout.”
He stepped away and walked over to his bike to pull the phone out of his pack. I whimpered involuntarily.
God. What was happening? It felt like the world was spinning off of its axis, the natural order crashing down around my head, the laws of physics no longer applicable.
And the weirdest part was that I didn’t really care, not if it meant that I could still be near Clay.
Chapter 6
Clay
I couldn’t remember ever seeing such a beautiful girl before in my life. It was like heaven had dropped her down out of the sky, right there, just for me.
Embracing Reckless Page 2
