“Three years and a child together, and not once,” she whispered. “Not once in all that time did you ever say you loved me. Not one time, Randy. Ever."
Pilar vanished into the sidewalk crowd with Caleb wailing in her arms. He sat at the bistro table for a long time after, Caleb’s cries echoing in his ears. The lunch crowd came and went while he stared, unbelieving, into the distance. He wasn’t really surprised about the cheating. He'd suspected for months before their breakup but couldn’t bring himself to face the truth.
Four strong bourbons did nothing to fill the hollowness in his gut. After a while, he walked in the direction of Felony because he had nowhere else to go, and he needed time to think. She’d left him over three little words. Hadn’t he shown her how he felt a million times in a million different ways? He kept walking with his hands shoved into his pockets until the sidewalks narrowed and the crowds thinned.
A park bench opposite the post office offered a shady resting place where he sat with his head in his hands, trying to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. Two kids clattered past on skateboards. Locust whirred from the trees behind him, the insistent buzz a parody of his confusion. Why couldn’t he say those words to her if it meant the difference between having his son or not? He sat up, scrubbed his hands over his face, and blew out a long sigh. Deep down, he knew the answer. He didn’t love her. Never had.
CHAPTER 6
THE ACHE in Karly’s feet was nothing compared to the pain in her heart when she returned Emma to her parents. It took two busses and a ten-block walk to reach the house. No one answered the doorbell, so she let herself in, Emma dragging behind reluctantly. Mom sat on the couch, still wearing her faded purple housecoat despite the afternoon hour, watching the television with an expression of disconnected ambivalence. Dad, thank goodness, was at the factory where he worked as a janitor. Karly didn’t think she could manage to sit in the same room with the man and remain civil.
“Mom?” Karly stepped in front of the television, blocking the game show from her mother’s view. “I brought Emma home.”
“Really?” Mom didn’t move, but her eyes flicked to Karly before returning to the TV. “Did you two have a sleepover?”
“No. She ran away.” Karly scowled while her mother clicked buttons on the remote control. “Did you hear what I said, Mom?"
As she waited for her mother to answer, Karly surveyed the living room as if seeing it for the first time. Although dark and dingy, the cramped space was scrupulously clean. Worn sofa cushions hid beneath a knit, multi-colored afghan. Cigarette smoke yellowed the flowered wallpaper. Framed photographs of Mitch hung on the walls and lined the bookshelves; there were no pictures of Karly or Emma anywhere in sight.
“Mom!” With a sigh of exasperation, Karly turned the television off and waved a hand in front of her mother’s blank face. She looked healthy, despite the previous night's beating, but then her father made sure to hit where the bruises wouldn’t show. “Are you telling me that you didn’t even know Emma was gone?”
“I think maybe I was asleep,” her mother said. At last, she lifted sad eyes to Karly’s face, and her once pretty mouth twitched in a reluctant smile. "Did you two have a nice time?”
When her mother smiled, Karly caught a glimpse of the woman she used to be, before the beatings and her father’s drinking grew out of control. Once, long ago, they had been a family who laughed and enjoyed each other’s company. Today, Karly wasn't sure who those people were or where they had gone.
Overcome with emotion, Karly sank to her knees beside Mom’s chair and touched her knee lightly. “Mom, are you okay? Did he hurt you badly? Do you need a doctor?”
“I’m fine, dear.” Her mother patted Karly’s cheek before pointing the remote at the television and resuming her game show, glazed expression in place. “You probably should leave before your father gets home. You know how upset he gets when you’re here.”
“Yeah, Mom. I know,” Karly replied, but her mother had already retreated into the safety of her fantasy world, oblivious to everyone and everything outside of The Price is Right. With a pang of regret, she gave Emma a kiss goodbye and promised to visit soon. The front door closed behind her with a soft click of the latch, the sounds of the TV bleeding into the front yard through the open windows. At the end of the street, away from the prying eyes of neighbors, Karly sank to her knees and cried.
CHAPTER 7
AS REPUTATIONS went, Felony Bar had one of the worst. Located on the derelict side of town, it attracted the wrong type of people, served nothing but beer and hard liquor, and conjured up visions of lawless anarchy. Karly stepped inside to find flickering flames on the flat-screen TVs, half-dressed women writhing in cages around the dance floor, and the chaotic assault of hardcore rock music. It was like a sideshow on steroids and promised the distraction she needed to forget about Emma for a few hours.
The crush of people jostled and bumped her on every side. She struggled across the dance floor like a salmon swimming upstream and tried not to lose sight of Ally ahead of her. In that moment, with the throbbing drumbeats of “Bodies” by Drowning Pool reverberating through her chest, the troubles of her life dissipated.
The room moved in a surreal filmstrip sequence beneath the strobe lights from the stage. Dancers bounced in unison, a roiling mass of colors and confusion. Randy materialized through the crush in a flash of laser light. Broad shoulders shoved aside the dancers. He shouted something over the music to Ally, but his words were lost in the melee.
Randy jerked his chin at Karly in greeting with none of the easygoing manner of the night before. Tension, confidence, and watchful wariness exuded from every square inch of his body. He was all business. When he took her hand in his, the intimate gesture caught her by surprise. Large fingers threaded through her smaller ones and dragged her toward the bar.
As she followed him, Karly tried not to stare at the smooth curve of his back, the play of muscles beneath his tight T-shirt, or at the way his dark hair, short and stubbly on top, glinted copper in the stage lights. Her gaze dipped lower to long legs thick with thigh muscle and his bitable ass. The warm grip tightened on her hand, calloused palm against her smooth one, sending a surge of butterflies into her stomach. When he stopped, his head bent low so she could hear him over the fray.
“Good to see you.” His voice, deep and rough, reverberated in her ear. God, she could just imagine that sexy voice speaking erotic words while she clutched his back in ecstasy.
“Yeah, you too,” she replied. His fingers loosened and slid through hers, releasing their proprietary hold as he vanished into the crowd. She stared in astonishment at the spot where he’d been until Ally sidled up next to her and broke the spell.
“Somebody’s got the hots for you,” Ally chided.
"You’re one to talk." Karly jerked her head in the direction of Jack. From the end of the bar, he looked up and winked at Ally. A dimpled grin full of wicked promise lit his handsome features. He crooked a finger, beckoning her to him. “Go on." Karly winked and nudged her friend in the side with an elbow. “If you don’t go to that guy, I’m going to steal him for myself.”
"I see you made it home okay." Randy’s deep voice rumbled in Karly’s ear. “Another drink?" He trailed a hand across her waist as he passed behind her. The contact jolted through her skin, firing her nerve endings into overdrive. If that kept happening every time he touched her, it was going to be a long night.
"Uh, yes. Please." She slid her glass across the smooth oak countertop as he walked behind the bar. “What you did the other night? That was really nice. I appreciate it.”
“No big deal.” He shrugged and slid the refilled glass back to her. She raised it to her lips and took a gulp.
“Did you really walk all the way home? The Scotsman is a long way from here.”
A fleeting blush of color crossed his cheeks then disappeared. Like her, he carried the curse of a redhead, his skin flushing with telltale signs of emotion. She’d always hated t
he way her fair skin betrayed her. His complexion was less fair but just as traitorous.
“No. My car was in the parking lot.” He looked guiltily away. “I knew you wouldn’t let me drive you home so I walked with you.”
“I thought maybe you were some kind of kissing bandit. Kissing random women at bus stops,” she teased. This remark brought his gaze back to hers with alacrity and a fleeting redness to the tips of his ears.
“Nope. You would be the first.” Despite his gruff tone, a smile quirked his lips. After grabbing a towel from beneath the counter, he wiped away the ring of moisture left by her drink. “And I believe you were the one who kissed me.” The smile on his face turned to the pretty girl in skinny jeans and a sequined halter-top standing next to Karly. He took the girl’s order with quiet efficiency and poured up two shots of Wild Turkey for her. An unexpected twinge of jealousy swept over Karly as his eyes lit up for the other girl.
“I think you’re a little confused. You definitely kissed me first,” she continued when his attention returned to her.
“I know you kissed me.” His eyes, long-lashed and deep charcoal gray, dipped to her mouth and held for a beat before flashing up to meet hers. “Believe me, when I kiss you, you'll definitely know it.”
When I kiss you? Butterflies unfurled in her stomach. What did that mean? Her toes curled in her strappy sandals at the thought of his strong arms wrapped around her waist and his lips parting hers. The taste of his cherry tongue…that sensitive upper lip……
He turned his back to her and moved to the opposite end of the bar to talk to two girls dressed in fishnet stockings and denim cut-off shorts. Was that the kind of girl he liked? She cast a glance down at her strapless knit dress and triple strand of fake pearls. Most of her clothes came from a secondhand store near her apartment. The dress was a bit on the conservative side, but the hemline showed a good stretch of thigh, and the tight knit emphasized her tiny waist.
“You want to dance?” A cute guy with warm brown eyes touched her elbow, saving her from her thoughts.
“Sure,” she said and slid from her barstool with a grateful smile. The more distance she put between Randy Mackenzie and herself, the better. She had no place in her life for distractions right now.
CHAPTER 8
FOUR METAL cages stood on platforms around the perimeter of the dance floor. Longhaired, long-legged hotties teased and swayed to the band’s cover of “Trenches” by Pop Evil. She loved to dance, especially to music like this, with its catchy melody, driving beats, and edgy bass. When she was a child, her family had been too poor to afford studio lessons, but Mitch had found a hip-hop class for her at the community center. Later, in her high school years, she’d taught those classes herself.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder. A tall girl with swinging brown hair and legs like a giraffe gave her a bright smile. She recognized the brunette from one of the cages. A skintight red mini-dress hugged the stick-straight figure, and a deep V-neck plunged down to her navel. Karly smiled back at her, startled but curious to be singled out.
“You’re a good dancer,” the girl shouted over the music. She pointed at one of the cages. “You want to go up in one?”
“Me? Are you serious?” Karly froze and after a few seconds realized her mouth was hanging open. She shut it with a snap.
“Yeah. Sure. I need a break. Come on.” The girl grabbed Karly’s hand and pulled her toward the cage.
The band rolled into “I Sat By The Ocean” by Queens of the Stone Age, one of her all-time favorites. She let herself sink into the music, tapping her hands on her hips, smoothing a palm along the length of her side, undulating her body in a slow and teasing groove. With a flip of her hair, she turned to face the bar. When she opened her eyes, Randy stood a few paces away, directly in front of her cage.
He was engaged in conversation with a couple of guys dressed in faded concert tees and sporting multiple piercings. When her gaze locked with his, he stopped mid-sentence to stare. His broad chest rose and fell with a heavy breath. She bit her lower lip and began a slow roll of her hips, grinding around and down with sultry intent. The muscles of his throat constricted as he swallowed. She closed her eyes, turned, and threw him a heavy-lidded glance through her lashes. He smiled and shook his head, clearly amused and aroused by her performance. She winked and smiled back, feeling an unexplained warmth and sense of camaraderie for the big guy.
Thirty minutes later, she was about to return to the bar, breathless and exhilarated, when she ran into a former classmate, Cody Northcott. Except for a few extra pounds around the middle, Cody looked much the same as he did in high school when he was the star quarterback and hung around Mitch.
When he waved and beckoned her to his booth, she cautiously approached, reluctant to join him but unwilling to appear rude. Although Cody had always been kind to her, he was a painful reminder of a past she struggled to forget. To her relief, the smile on his attractive face seemed genuine. She relaxed and chided herself. They had been kids back then, and it had been a long time ago. There was no reason for her to feel inferior. She had come a long way, and she was proud of her accomplishments. Buoyed by confidence, she smiled back at him.
“Hey, Cody,” she said. “I didn’t expect to see you here."
“You either,” he replied. “You look great, Karly.” A sweating pitcher of beer sat in the center of the table. He poured a glass and slid it over to her. “So what have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in forever. How’s Mitch?"
“Mitch is good. He’s a cop now.” She took a gulp of the beer. It was warm and flat, but she was parched.
Cody rolled his eyes and laughed. “No way. He was always cheating on tests and skipping school. I pictured him on the inside of the jail cell.”
“Yeah, well, he surprised us all.” She started to say more but stopped when three more popular guys from high school joined them. After a brief round of introductions, the conversation skipped from one topic to the next, running the gamut from politics to the latest celebrity scandals. They were entertaining company, polite and attentive, laughing and flirting with her. She glowed under their attentions until the band stopped for a break.
“Thanks for the beer,” she replied. “I need to check up on my friend. It was nice seeing you again.” She slid across the wooden bench of the booth to exit. One of Cody’s friends offered a hand to help her stand.
The crowd thickened around the bar in search of refreshment, making it nearly impossible to enter or exit the dance floor. Karly stood immobilized by the crush a few steps from Cody’s booth. She bit her lip and smiled at their lighthearted quips, trying to pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping.
“She seems nice,” the guy who had helped her from the booth said. “I don’t remember her from high school, though.”
“She’s a few years younger than us,” Cody replied. “She had a nickname back then. What was it?”
Oh, yeah, I remember,” said one of the other guys. “Easy Karly.”
Shattered glimpses of high school flashed through her mind, like pieces of a broken mirror reflecting moonlight. Too much beer. Fogged car windows and heavy breathing. Young and flattered by the attentions of a popular upper classman, she let things go too far. The next day, he told all of his friends. One indiscretion stuck with her for the rest of high school. She had been the butt of more jokes and ridicule than she cared to remember.
A crushing tightness forced the air from her in a whoosh. She pressed a hand to her chest to ease the pressure. The room tilted. The air thickened, heavy with humidity, and redolent of human sweat. Desperate to flee, she shoved through the crowd and fled down the hall behind the bar. All she wanted was to get as far as possible from the wreckage of her past. Blinded by hurt and disappointment, she bolted through the nearest door, plummeted into the alley, and ran into a hard, unyielding chest.
A warm hand gripped her elbow to steady her. She looked up into Randy’s face. He scowled down at her, cigarette dangling between his lips, c
ell phone to his ear.
“Holy fucking hell,” he muttered, clearly alarmed by her expression. His hand slid from her elbow, and he stepped back. With a concerned frown, he took one last drag on the cigarette and tossed it to the pavement.
Startled out of her dismay, she turned to go back inside and found the door had no exterior handle. She slapped a hand on the steel surface. The hollow smack echoed down the empty alley.
“It’s exit only.” Randy’s voice rang with amusement. He raised one finger, a silent plea to wait a minute. The expression on his face transformed into something softer as he spoke into the phone. “Hey, buddy. What’s up? I know… I know…… Did you have a bad dream?”
Karly huffed out a frustrated sigh, crossed her arms over her chest, and tapped a foot on the pavement. Seeing no choice but to wait, she closed her eyes, focused on her breathing to calm her racing heart, and choked back the urge to punch something. Dimly, she heard Randy’s rough voice mellow with affection and compassion for the child on the other end of the call.
“I can’t come over, bud. I know you do. I miss you, too.” Randy swallowed audibly. She opened her eyes to see his face contorted with pain. "You’re the only thing that matters to me. Understand? Okay? Put your mom on the phone, will you?”
One of his hands ruffled through his hair, sending random strands into spiky disarray. He glanced up at her. Their eyes met, and she saw unfathomable depths of emotion in his stare. Feeling as if she’d caught him naked, she lowered her gaze to the pavement. She knew that kind of pain. She felt it every time she spoke with Emma on the phone.
“This is not my fault, Pilar,” he said. His tone remained even and calm, but the disheveled mess of his hair showed his distress. “You're the one who left.” He held the phone away from his ear. Karly heard the caustic female voice on the other side. “You can’t keep me from my own kid.” After a few seconds, he stared at the phone. “Fuck!”
Felony Romance Series: Complete Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 28
