Lookin' for Trouble (Honky Tonk Angels Book 6)

by Ciana Stone

  And yet, even as she knew she was making the right decision she wanted to change her mind. She didn’t know how she was going to be strong enough to walk away. How could she face endless days and nights, never seeing him, never touching or be touched by him? To never hear his laugh or see what he was feeling shining in his eyes?

  How was she going to survive that?

  She didn’t know, but she knew she had to. For him. Olivia groaned and pulled the covers up over her head. She wasn’t ready to face this day. Not at all. She’d never be able to tell him she was leaving, that it was over.

  God, there had to be another way.

  Suddenly she sat straight up. Damn, had she gone stupid lately? She’d been agonizing over something she could fix. Lots of people had long-distance relationships. Why couldn’t she and Max? His parents would never know if she flew to California to see him, or bought him a ticket to New York.

  Yes! Suddenly she was excited about the day. The old saying was wrong. It was possible to have your cake and eat it, too. Her mind was in a whirl, thinking about the weekends they would share, all the sights and sounds they would experience together, all the nights they’d lie in each other’s arms.

  The doorbell rang, and she jumped up to throw on a robe. Leave it to Max to lose his key again. Last time they found it between the cushions of the sofa. She ran to the door and threw it open.

  His father, Mike Clearman stood on her front porch.

  “Mr. Clearman! Is everything okay? Has something— “

  “I won’t take up much of your time, Ms. Warren,” he interrupted. “This is for you.”

  She accepted the manila envelope he extended. “What is this?”

  “It’s a complaint I will file to bring charges against you if you prevent Max from going to UCLA.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m prepared to go to the district attorney with accusations of statutory rape, child molestation, or sexual assault – anything I can get to stick – if you don’t leave my son alone.”

  “Rape? I never— “

  “I’m sure you didn’t. But you did take advantage of a boy’s feelings for your own selfish desires and now because of you he’s threatening to pass up an opportunity of a lifetime. I won’t let that happen, Ms. Warren.

  “In case you’re not aware, sexual crime can be extremely damaging to a person's reputation, especially when the charges involve having sexual contact with a minor. You had sex with a minor and that can result in several charges, including statutory rape, child molestation, and sexual assault. Any of these charges that result in a conviction carry strict consequences. You could be imprisoned and you’d be required to register wherever you go as a sex offender.

  “I never had sex with Max when he was under age.”

  His father leveled a hate filled look at her. “I may not get a conviction, Ms. Warren, but I’ll damn sure ruin your reputation and damage your career beyond repair. I promise you that. I’ll make it my life’s mission.”

  She could see he was serious. He had her backed into a corner and she couldn’t see a way out. “What do you want, Mr. Clearman?”

  “I want you to convince Max to go to UCLA. Tell him anything you want, just get him to go. And once he does, don’t ever see or contact him again.”

  “And if I do?”

  “I have a number of years before the statute of limitations runs out on that,” he gestured to the envelope in her hand. “And I won’t hesitate to use it. I’ll ruin you, Ms. Warren. When I’m done, you’ll be lucky to get a job shooting porn. Do you understand?”

  Olivia didn’t know what to say. She simply nodded.

  He gave her one last hard look, then spun on his heel and walked away. Olivia watched him get in his car and drive away. Finally, she went back inside. She opened the envelope and extracted the sheaf of paper inside.

  It was all legalese, but one thing was clear, he wasn’t bluffing. He was prepared to go to war against her. She had no idea if he could successfully have her prosecuted, but was smart enough to know that he was right when he said he could ruin her.

  She looked up from the papers and looked around the room. Everywhere she looked, she saw a memory of Max. That’s when it hit her. That’s all she would have. She’d say goodbye to Max and all she would have would be memories.

  There would be no happily-ever-after for her.

  The Present

  Max stared at her for a few moments, took a step back and shook his head. “That’s a lie.”

  “No, it’s not. Your parents would have done anything to keep you from being with me, Max. They…they thought they knew what was best for you. Your mother had come to see me, too. I told her I wanted you to go to New York with me. I’d pay for you to go to college and we could be together.

  “I thought—I thought that maybe in New York things would be different, people would accept our age difference. Then she came to see me. She told me how she and your dad rushed to the altar when she graduated from high school. They couldn’t, wouldn’t wait. She had just recently turned eighteen and they snuck off and got married. Things were hard for them. She worked as a waitress while he was in college and in law school. They barely saw each other, but they stuck it out – through law school and through six long years as an associate at a law firm. They had a child, and vowed to stay together for Max’s sake.

  “But she was never really happy. She’d missed out on so much – college and what not. He gave up his partnership in Raleigh and they moved to Matthews where he opened his own firm. They were together only for the sake of appearance and you.. They’d agreed a long time ago that once you graduated high school they would divorce.

  “They didn’t want you to make the same mistake. They wanted you to go to college, explore, and find your own path. And they didn’t see that including me.”

  His reaction was worlds away from what she’d hoped. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed and his face flushed. She wondered if he was going to speak and suddenly he exploded.

  “You fucking liar!” Max’s jaw was clenched so tight the words hissed through his teeth. She’d seen him angry before but never like this. His face flushed and his eyes narrowed. “My parents love me. They’d never have done anything so heartless. They’d never have intentionally hurt me that way and you’re – you’re a liar and I want you to get the fuck out of my house. Now!”

  “Max, I’m telling you the truth. I wouldn’t--“

  “Get out!” He shouted. “I have my answers. You never loved me. You used me. I was a fool to believe in you. Get out!”

  “Max, please.”

  “Leave! I don’t want to hear you. I don’t want to look at you. I don’t want to know you exist. You’re dead to me.”

  With that, he turned and stormed from the room. Olivia sat frozen in place for a few moments. She couldn’t believe that he thought she was lying. This wasn’t what she had imagined at all.

  And it dawned on her that she was once again clinging to the tragic romance of Olivia and Max, trying to write an ending that wasn’t meant to be. She looked at the envelope lying on the island and started to pick it up and take it with her, but stopped. It had been meant for him. Let him do what he would with the truth. She’d come here to do what she knew she had to do. To tell him the truth. She’d done that. Now it was time for her to leave and go try to build a life for herself.

  Chapter Eight

  The Present

  Three months had passed since the day Livi came to see him. It had taken Max a week before he was able to work on the screenplay, but he’d finished it. In one week, he’d start his book tour.

  He looked at the copy of his book lying on his desk. For the first time since the day he’d written the first word he looked at it as a work of fiction. He’d been so wrong, so stupid. Everything he’d written was a fantasy. Everything except his own feelings. Those were all too real.

  But even those were becoming manageable. As painful as it had been, her coming to see him and co
ncocting such an elaborate lie had been the beginnings of his liberation. He could hate her, hate her for the lies, for never caring and most of all for trying to turn him against his parents.

  If only that damnable little niggle of doubt would leave his mind. His parents had split up before Thanksgiving of his first year in college. Today his mother was a year into her third marriage and his father had just celebrated his fifth anniversary to his second wife, a woman twenty-five years his junior and the birth of his daughter by that marriage.

  Max shook his head as if the act would dismiss the doubt. His parents loved him and would have done anything for him. He would never believe they were capable of doing the things Livi claimed.

  His eyes moved to the bottom drawer of his desk. That’s where he’d stuffed the envelope she’d left for him. He had not looked at it since the day she left. There was nothing there that would change things.

  He cursed, stomped to the window, jammed his hands in his pants’ pockets, and stood rocking from heels to toes, staring outside. Why now? Why after three months was all this raising its ugly head to torment him? He thought he was moving beyond it.

  He pivoted and stared at the desk drawer. Maybe whatever was in that envelope was the final step. Maybe once he looked inside it, he could truly move on. He hurried to the desk, opened the drawer, and removed the envelope.

  For a moment, he just stood there, holding it, feeling anxious. The anxiety spawned anger, anger that once again she had control. He ripped it open and dumped the contents on the desk.

  Three envelopes and a handful of photographs stared up at him. He moved the photos on the desk, looking at images of himself ten years ago. Him in a suit at the reunion they’d worked, him in a tuxedo at the wedding on the beach, him on the beach and him in her bed.

  Each image brought a stab of emotion that clawed at the wall of hate he’d worked so hard the last three months to build. With a snarl, he swiped them off the desk and flopped down in his chair, staring angrily at the envelopes.

  After a few minutes, he picked up one. It was a five by seven inch envelope. He tore it open. There were two letter-sized envelopes inside. One was addressed to him, at his parents’ house. The other was addressed to Livi and bore his mother’s return address.

  A sudden sick sweat rose on his skin. His stomach churned and to his humiliation, his hands shook as he opened the envelope addressed to him. He removed the single page and unfolded it, recognizing Livi’s handwriting.

  His eyes moved over the words, blurring as tears forced their way to the surface. She said she was sorry. She loved him and didn’t want to leave, but she had no choice. She hoped one day he would understand and forgive her, maybe even give her another chance. She was sorry she was such a coward. She’d never forget and probably never love anyone the way she loved him.

  Max threw the letter aside. He didn’t want this rush of emotion, didn’t want to let himself believe her words. He needed to hate her. It was the only way he was going to move forward. He should gather all this up and burn it.

  But he couldn’t. He had to read the second letter. It was also handwritten, by his mother. In it, she told Livi to never contact Max again. She and Max’s father aren’t going to let Livi screw up Max’s life so forget about him. If she doesn’t they will file the charges against her and ruin her.

  Charges? Could she have been telling the truth? His mind went into a spin. He quickly reached for the remaining two envelopes. One was blank, and the other was addressed to him in Livi’s handwriting, but bore no postmark. It had obviously never been mailed.

  He opened the envelope whose face was blank and removed the pages. His eyes widened as he read. It was true. His parents intended to use all their resources to ruin Livi if that’s what it took to keep her away from Max. They were determined to keep them apart and were using the law as their weapon.

  Max let the pages fall to the desk and leaned back in his chair. He felt sick. She had not been lying to him. The people he thought loved him the most in the world had deceived and manipulated to force him down a path they wanted him to go. They had taken the one thing he loved above all else from him.

  He wanted to cry, to scream, to break something or someone – something to ease the pain of betrayal. Something to erase the guilt. He’d tossed her out and called her a liar and all the while, she had been telling him the truth.

  Max reached for her letter and opened it.

  Dear Max,

  I know you’ll never read this, but I still have to write. I’m finally back home. It feels weird, like I’m a stranger in my own home. The doctors say that’s part of the process, trying to re-acclimate. I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel real.

  Maybe I just don’t want it to be real. After the bomb, I don’t remember much of what really happened. I know I was taken to a hospital in Germany and was in a coma for three weeks. But I wasn’t there. My body might have been there, but my mind went somewhere else.

  Maybe it went where I’ve always wished I really were. With you.

  I lived a lifetime with you in those three weeks, Max. A life where I never took the job in New York where you never went to California. A life where we stayed together. You went to UT, I worked at the studio, and the day after you graduated, we were married.

  We were so happy. We had a little boy. He had his father’s eyes. Life was simple and good and we had love. It was all we really needed.

  I wish I’d had the courage to make that choice, Max, but the truth was, I was afraid. Afraid your parents would have me sent to jail, or at least ruined my ability to earn a living. Afraid maybe they were right and I’d ruin your life if I stayed or if I convinced you to go with me. Fear made me choose the wrong path and I wish more than anything I could go back and undo it.

  But I can’t. So now, I wish I’d never woken. I lied before when I said I didn’t remember anything. I do remember the truck hitting the roadside bomb. I remember the pain and lying there in the dirt on the side of the road.

  I remember thinking of you and wishing I could undo it all. I hope that my mistake ended up being the right thing for you. That you have a good life and are happy. For me, I guess I was fated to have known and lost one great love and then spend the rest of my life regretting.

  Or maybe, if I’m lucky, sinking back into that dream where you love me and our son has your eyes.

  I love you, Max. I always will.

  Livi

  Max gently placed the letter on the desk, rose, and walked to the window. He stared out, blinking to stay the tears, but lost the battle. The emotion overwhelmed him, robbing him of strength and control. He braced himself, his hands on the panes of glass before him and his head lowered.

  He cried. Cried for mistrusting her all those years ago. He cried at the pain of his parents’ betrayal and most of all he cried for the way he’d treated her when she came to him three months ago and tried to tell him the truth.

  And when he had no more tears and he could think without being overcome, he called and booked himself a flight on the red-eye to New York for that night. It was time to see Livi.

  *****

  It was a miserable morning, rainy, windy, and cold. Max recognized the allure of New York but could not imagine calling it home. He gave the cab driver a substantial tip and stepped from the car, hunching down in his coat.

  He punched the call button at the door to Livi’s apartment building. There was no answer. Maybe she was asleep. He tried again. Still nothing.

  Maybe she’d gone out for breakfast. It was Saturday. Did she get up early on the weekends? Did she stay in the city or leave? He had no idea. It reminded him there was a lot about Livi he didn’t know. He tried her cell phone. It went immediately to voice mail, so he hung up.

  Should he leave? It was freaking cold. He turned from the door, scanning the street for a cab. And that’s when he saw her. She was running toward him, her head down, feet pounding the sidewalk as if she were racing the wind that sent rain pelting on her back
.

  She was ten feet away when she looked up. The moment she saw him she stopped dead in her tracks. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Max walked to her. She was thinner than the last time he saw her and her eyes held a look of pain. “Can we talk?”

  “I think you pretty much said it all,” she replied and started to brush by him.

  Max grabbed her arm. “Livi, please.”

  She looked up at him and once again, he saw the pain. It stabbed at him. He knew he was the cause. “Please,” he repeated.

  Her shoulders slumped, and she nodded. Max followed her inside the building. She was silent as they waited for the elevator and remained silent on the ride and down the hallway to her apartment.

  Once inside, she kicked off her shoes. “I have to shower,” she said and hurried away.

  Max wandered into the living area, looking around. He spotted her awards, lying on a desk. Livi had earned two Pulitzers for Breaking News Photography. She’d had each framed with the photo that had earned her the award.

  The first was of a firefighter, carrying a woman from the wreckage of the World Trade Center, and the second of a soldier with an Afghan child in his arms, running from an exploding building.

  Max was reminded of what a talented and fearless photographer she was and he wondered why she didn’t have the awards hanging on the wall. He wandered into the kitchen, found the coffee, and prepared a pot to brew.

  He could see from the small window in the kitchen that the rain was now mixed with snow. He watched the flakes float by the window for a while and lost himself in thoughts of Livi. She was just forty and already had achieved so much. He had no doubt that she could have had her choice of jobs, anywhere in the world. What made her choose to walk away from what she did so well? Was it the bombing?

  He heard a sound behind him and turned. Livi stood in the doorway. Dressed in fleece pants and a matching top, her feet were encased in thick wooly socks and her hair was wet from the shower.

  “I made coffee.” He said.

  “Thanks,” she made for the cupboard and took two cups.