by Kristen Echo
His mouth swallowed her protest. He kissed her hard. His lips bruised hers. She gasped, and his tongue invaded. He wasn’t gentle. He pulled her hair and bit her lip. His raw need flowed into her, reaching down to her toes. She clawed his arms and tugged his shirt. Gwen wanted nothing more than to let things progress and be with him. But that couldn’t happen.
She gripped his biceps and pushed him away. They couldn’t do that anymore.
“You should go,” she whispered.
“After everything we discussed, you can’t mean that.”
“I mean every word.” She climbed off his lap and headed for the door. Her fingers traced her puffy lips. “Our conversation about the past changes nothing. I would always have left; that incident propelled the inevitable. You’re a good guy, not an asshole. I’m sorry for thinking the worst. I was wrong.”
“You believe me?”
“I do,” she conceded. She believed his side of events, but her sister’s words continued to flash like an emergency sign in her head. Cherie liked him. Getting closer to Spencer could ruin the fragile relationship she was rebuilding. No man was worth losing her family.
It was one or the other. She couldn’t have both.
He joined her by the door. “Come home with me. This is only the beginning for us.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head and a wayward tear fell.
“I won’t let you stay here. If you don’t feel comfortable staying with me, let me set you up someplace else.”
She stared at the disgusting carpet, considering his offer. His money came with strings. She refused to hurt Cherie by accepting his help. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll be fine here for a few more days.”
Spencer kissed the top of her head and hugged her. “I’m not letting you go. Gwen, I’ve loved two women in my life and you’re one of them. My feelings for you run as deep today as they did then. I’m not afraid to put myself out there. I love you.”
His proclamation pierced her resolve. She’d only loved twice, and she still loved Spencer with all her heart.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to be with you,” she lied, twisting the doorknob. Until she could fix things with her sister, Spencer was off limits. It was simple. She had to look ahead. “Please go.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
G wen had pushed Spencer out the door without telling him the truth. Watching him walk down the hall with his head hung low had broken something inside her. She’d made a lot of poor decisions in her lifetime, but she’d never regretted any as much as that one. She had to right that wrong, but she needed to talk to Cherie first.
The days of being ignored were over.
After a long and cold shower, she hopped on the first bus. It turned out to be the wrong one. The extra-long trip gave her a chance to prepare what she wanted to say. By the time she arrived at her sister’s condo complex, she had a plan. Gwen crossed her fingers and called her sister for the third time.
As expected, Cherie never answered. Gwen adjusted her large sunglasses as she peered up at the wall of windows. The sun hid behind the clouds as she rang her sister again. The phone went to voicemail over and over. She never left a message.
Waiting outside, she tapped her flip-flops against the concrete and debated her next move. She hated bringing Westlyn into this, but she had no choice. She dialed her number and waited.
The phone rang four times before she answered. “Hi,” she yawned.
“Morning, my girl. How are you?”
“Sleeping,” she rasped. “It took me a long time to fall asleep.”
Gwen rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m so sorry I woke you up. How come you couldn’t sleep?”
“Kept seeing his smile in every corner of the dark room. At first, I try to hold on to the vision as long as I can. Then it hurts too much. I wish he’d stop haunting me. Turning on the lights doesn’t help, but I’m alive. So, there’s that.”
“Did you take your pills?”
“My head is fine. It’s my heart that won’t heal,” Wes snapped. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can I go back to sleep?”
“I won’t press you,” she answered, wishing she could make everything better. “Can you check if your aunt’s home? She’s not answering my calls.”
“Fine.” A long moment of silence followed. “She’s home. I’m sorry she’s ignoring you. Want me to give her my phone?”
“Don’t be sorry,” she replied. “It’s not your fault and I don’t want to put you in the middle, but can you tell her I’m outside? She can either—”
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” Wes huffed. “I’ll buzz you in and then I’m crawling back under the covers for the rest of the day.”
“You’re the best. I love you,” Gwen said as she approached the building entrance.
A minute later, she stood in front of her sister’s home. Staring at the chipped pink nail polish on her big toe, she tapped at the door. No one came. She knocked louder.
Wes answered and hugged her mother. “She’s in the kitchen. I don’t want to be involved, so I’ll catch you later.”
Gwen held her daughter, drawing strength from her presence. “I missed you.”
“You can let go anytime,” Wes pleaded.
“Again, I’m sorry I woke you,” Gwen said, releasing the squirming teen.
“It’s cool,” she yawned and stretched her arms above her head. “I’m working at the Northcote’s tonight and tomorrow morning. If it all goes well, he’ll give me more hours when he leaves for the NHL Draft this weekend. So, we’ll see each other lots.”
“I… um… won’t be there. But I think it’s great you’re working,” Gwen added.
Westlyn’s eyes widened. “Where will you be? What’s going on? Are we moving again?”
“Whoa… relax. I moved out, and I’m back at the motel. Things between Spencer and I are complicated, and it’s best I not live under his roof.”
“Mom, can’t you stay there and keep your distance? The house is massive. It shouldn’t be hard.” Wes twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “He seems into you. I mean, you guys were laughing lots. I think he’s a super nice guy.”
“He is a good man, but I need to talk with Cherie. Get some rest.” She hugged her daughter and watched her amble towards the guestroom. “Have a good sleep.” With sweaty palms and a lump in her throat, she stepped into the bright kitchen.
Her sister sat at the island, facing her. “Hi,” she said, crossing her arms over her designer blouse.
“Hello,” Gwen croaked and cleared her throat. “Let me start by saying I’m not mad, or angry or sad. I’d like to talk. I understand I’m not your favorite person, but I’m trying. Can you at least meet me halfway?”
“Fine,” Cherie huffed and wrapped her hands around a tall glass of water. “What do you want from me?”
Gwen sat on the stool next to her sister. “I want to clear the air. Bury the hatchet and get to know you. We are family, but you keep me at arm’s length.”
“Whose fault is that?” Cherie reared her head back.
“Mine,” she conceded. “I left and created the divide, but we worked past these issues years ago. You can’t keep—”
“Yeah. You left without a care for anyone but yourself. It’s always been that way. You care more about strangers than your own relatives. You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met,” her sister yelled, tossing her hands in the air.
The need to defend herself rose, and her mouth popped open, but she stuffed it down. They needed this heart to heart. Even if it got ugly.
“Go on.”
Cherie closed her eyes, splayed her fingers on the island and breathed deeply. She looked at Gwen and shook her head. “I lost a mother and a sister within a few months of each other, and I grew stronger. I learned to depend on myself. You lost a mother and Westlyn’s father a few years later, and you blamed the world. It’s always been poor Gwen. Let’s help Gwen.”
“For starters, I don’t blame
the world,” she countered.
“What pisses me off, is I stepped up and took care of Dad. Not you.” Cherie stood and took a sip of water. “Yet, he divided everything equally. You did nothing for him, except steal his retirement income with all your mistakes. You insisted on being a single parent, living in the most expensive city in this country because you wanted Wes to see her father’s roots. So, Dad worked longer to support you. I get it was his choice. Then he got sick. I took him for treatments. I watched him wither away. And you couldn’t be bothered to show your face until the last hour.”
The words stung like stepping on a bee hive. It was clear her sister wanted to fight. Gwen couldn’t take the bait. “You’re being dramatic. I used every second of leave I had to be there for him. Are you seriously pissed about the money? You’re pushing me away because of money.”
Cherie set the half-glass of water down and tucked her hair behind her ears. “It’s the principal; not the money. You did nothing to earn it other than share some DNA. Then you wasted your inheritance on a loser. You always help the wrong people.”
Gwen couldn’t bite her tongue any longer. “I’m not perfect. I’ve made expensive mistakes and trusted poorly. Dad helped when he could, but I never asked for a dime. The inheritance money was supposed to fund a project that would have helped thousands of kids stay away from drugs. Given our family history, I figured… well, it didn’t happen.”
“No, it didn’t,” Cherie repeated. “Because your broke-ass-boyfriend stole the money. You really know how to pick ’em.”
“Another shining moment for me,” she said, hanging her head.
Cherie grabbed her water and tossed the contents at Gwen. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
The cold liquid splashed against her face and shirt. Rather than get pissed, Gwen laughed. The water dripped down her chin and onto the island. She wiped her face with her arm and fanned her shirt. “Feel better?”
Her sister laughed. “Maybe. I’m sorry,” she said, handing her a towel from the drawer. “Look, my love life hasn’t been stellar either. I don’t chase losers like you but catching a successful and ambitious man isn’t easy. Lots of men shy away from successful women. Spencer isn’t like that. I apologize for not telling you I’d bumped into him at a fundraiser. We’ve been getting closer and I don’t want to jinx it. He’s amazing. I’m glad you’re not mad about us dating.”
Her sister was chasing Spencer.
It hurt to hear her sister confess she liked him romantically. Gwen hadn’t meant to cause problems. Her sister deserved a good man, but not him. She could have any man, except her ex.
“We slept together,” Gwen admitted.
“A long time ago, and I don’t care. I told you before, I only look ahead. I see a bright future with him. Our social circles connect perfectly. Already, being seen with him has opened a few doors for me.” Cherie smiled, making Gwen squirm on the stool.
“He’s not the man for you.”
“Why? Because you met him first like a million years ago. Who cares? He’s mine now,” she declared.
“He’s not yours. Cherie, you can’t be with Spencer.”
“Just because you won’t date a man with money doesn’t mean that rule applies to me. He’s a sexy billionaire. There aren’t many of those around.” Cherie flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You say you’re not mad, but you don’t seem happy for us.”
“Spencer told me he wanted a second chance, and we made love the other night. It’s not ancient history. I had no idea you two were involved. Had I known—”
Green eyes narrowed as she lifted her perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Well, you sure moved fast.”
A long and awkward silence followed.
“I’m sorry,” Gwen said.
“I overheard you tell Wes you moved back to the motel.” Her tone turned glacial. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you. I honestly moved here because I needed my sister. Men will come and go, but we’re family. Wes is going through so much and she needs you. I need a friend,” Gwen acknowledged. “Can you please forgive me?”
Cherie seemed to consider her words and nodded. “I’m going to let the past go and that includes you sleeping with Spencer. I used to wish you’d move home and here you are. You still owe me money, but I won’t lord the reasons over your head any longer. It takes too much effort to hate you.”
Gwen jumped off the stool and hugged her sister. Cherie patted her back. It was a start.
“Thank you. I’ll pay you back.” Gwen chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering about Spencer. If Cherie could forgive her, maybe he could too.
“I told you I’d make calls and find you someplace to live and I’m working on it. Westlyn can stay with me, but I don’t think we should live together. We’re still not on solid ground.” She held up her hand when Gwen went to hug her again. “Give me a few days and I’ll get you out of the motel.”
“Spencer offered a—”
“Absolutely not. You slept with my… Spencer. It’s completely inappropriate for you to be anywhere near him again. Are we clear? I’m willing to overlook his wandering. I have no claim on him yet. Plus, with our busy schedules, I wouldn’t expect monogamy. He can sleep with other women, but not you.”
The wind evaporated from her sails, leaving her adrift in the sea. Gwen suspected her sister’s interest in him had less to do with the man and everything to do with the zero’s in his bank account. However, that made no sense, since Cherie prided herself on making her own money and never riding on the coattails of others. This seemed more calculated.
“Are you dating him to punish me?” Gwen tried to read her sister’s expression, but Cherie turned her face away and shrugged her shoulders. “Did you purposefully seek him out to hurt me?”
“I’m interested in Spencer Northcote because he’s a catch. It has nothing to do with you,” she explained.
Gwen didn’t buy it. “You’ve only been out a few times, and it’s not serious. Please date someone else,” she begged.
“You choose someone else,” her sister challenged. “Better yet, you should go. I have to get ready for work.”
She rubbed her ears. Unable to believe what she’d heard. “I’m not fighting with you over a man. I don’t want to fight at all.”
Cherie walked to the door, and she followed. “Good. Figure things out on your own. I’ll call you about the apartment in a few days.”
Shocked and out of sorts, Gwen left. She walked back to her motel. If she called Spencer, she’d lose her sister forever. If she didn’t call Spencer, her heart was likely to explode. After hours of wandering the streets, she had no solution.
When she arrived at the motel, her feet were blistered and aching but inside she was numb. The clerk at the front desk informed her the credit card she’d given them was declined. She had no money left and couldn’t stay. They were nice enough to let her grab her stuff before kicking her out.
What a nightmare.
The first person she wanted to call was Wes. But it would be best for her daughter not to worry. She’d gotten herself into this mess and she had to find a way out. Easier said than done. Even if she begged someone for work, the money wouldn’t come for a few days.
For the first time in her life, she was officially homeless. She stumbled upon a park near the river and cried. Nestled in the trees along the bank she curled into a ball and let it all out.
Day turned to night. She was exhausted. As the sun tucked behind the horizon, her phone buzzed. Spencer. She wasn’t ready to face him and ignored the call that would only devastate her more.
CHAPTER TWELVE
S he woke up with the sun beaming on her face. Based on its low position in the sky, the day had just begun. The soil beside her was damp as she got up and stretched. Sleeping on the ground wasn’t the most restful, but things could have been worse. At least it wasn’t raining.
The last time she’d slept outside it had been part of a fundraising effort to
raise awareness about homelessness. It was ironic given her current situation. The skies had opened, and the rain had poured all night, drenching everyone from head to toe. It had been worth it. They’d raised over forty thousand dollars for the cause.
This time there was no reason for her to be sleeping outside, other than her own obstinate stupidity. Her need to atone for past wrongs continued to plague her. Cherie might never forgive her for leaving. They might never be close like before their mother’s death. After all these years, Gwen had to let go of that dream.
The limited sleep had forced her to reevaluate her goals. The more she tossed and turned the clearer things became. She had an epiphany.
She was an idiot. Plain and simple.
Second chances at true love and happiness were not common. They weren’t handed out like candy at Halloween, and she was throwing hers away. Her sister was angry at her, and punishing her for past mistakes, but she loved her. They were blood. At the end of the day, they’d find a way to work past the problems. Spencer was a different story. She’d hurt him, not once but twice.
Gwen rubbed her shoulder. Her back ached and her arms itched. Inspecting her skin, she saw several mosquito bites. Stupid bugs. She scratched the raised red bumps and ran her fingers through her wild mane, picking out the blades of grass.
She wiped her hands on her pants, which proved to be a mistake. Her clothing was damp from the morning dew. A layer of mud covered her jeans and her once pink sweater. It had been dark when she finally picked a place to sleep. The closest shelter was blocks away, and she’d been too wiped out to make the trek. In her exhausted state, she hadn’t noticed the layer of topsoil covering the freshly seeded lawn.
Using her phone as a mirror, she checked her reflection. Patches of dirt clung to her cheek. Wiping it away, she succeeded at looking dirtier. She cursed and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She scrolled through the missed calls and messages. Spencer wasn’t giving up. That was a good sign. Her heart soared though she knew she had some heavy duty groveling ahead.
