Unleashed

by Jami Alden

  Free of the past. Free of the dark cloud of accusations hanging over her head. Free to move forward into the future together.

  But as the conversation progressed and Danny became more and more withdrawn, a sick pit formed in her stomach and dug in its roots. She tried to shove it aside, but she couldn’t shake the grim foreboding that maybe things weren’t as different as she wanted them to be.

  “Look, we can yammer about this as much as we want,” Danny said tightly. “But the only unforgivable thing is that I didn’t get there in time to kill Patrick Easterbrook myself.”

  “I think we all would have liked to have been in on that,” Joe said grimly.

  Caroline rubbed the bunched muscles of Danny’s thigh reassuringly. It was eating at him, she knew, the fact that he wasn’t the one to put the bullet in Patrick’s head. He threaded his fingers through hers and absently raised her hand to his lips.

  “I hate unfinished business,” he’d said in the hospital, a little dopey from his meds. “Like to take care of things myself.”

  “I’ve got some unfinished business you can handle,” she’d said, trying to lighten the mood, and had earned a sleepy, sexy, smile that curled her toes for her efforts.

  Danny pushed himself up from the couch, a slight grimace the only evidence he had any pain from his wound. Caroline immediately stood to help him but he brushed her off. Still she followed him behind the granite topped island that separated the kitchen’s sitting area and breakfast nook from the stove top and double ovens. The conversation about Anne Taggart, the choices she made and whose fault it was that no one had managed to discover the truth continued as Danny turned the roast he was searing in a large saute pan.

  He flipped it quickly and it slapped down into the pan, spattering hot oil everywhere. Danny jumped back to avoid the spatter, wincing as the sudden movement was too much for his wound. Caroline put out one hand to steady him and reached for the tongs with the other. “Why don’t you let me do that,” she said, “and you sit down and take it easy.”

  “Stop coddling me,” he snapped. “I don’t need you hovering over me right now.”

  Pain speared through her at his unexpected outburst. “I’m not hovering, I just wanted to help,” she said, then wanted to kick herself for feeling like she was the one who needed to defend herself. Boom. It had been less than a week, and already she was back in that old pattern, trying to smooth everything over when Danny got too impatient and frustrated with the world.

  That pit of dread in her stomach had a growth spurt.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Ethan asked the question that was on the tip of her tongue.

  “Nothing is wrong with me,” Danny said as he poured wine in the pan and threw in handfuls of carrots and onions to surround the roast. He picked up the pan and slid it into the oven, closing the door with a metallic clang. “I just wish we could stop talking about this shit. Every family dinner is like a goddamn Oprah show. It’s over and done with, and trying to figure out what her problem was and trying to take the blame for what happened doesn’t get us anywhere. We finally know what happened to her. It’s over. Now let’s stop wallowing around in all this emotional bullshit and move the fuck on.”

  Caroline stood frozen as Danny stormed out of the kitchen. As his heavy footsteps reverberated on the hardwood floors his words echoed in her head in an endless loop. I can’t deal with your emotional bullshit. Stop talking. Move the fuck on.

  Grief washed through her, as raw and devastating as the first time she’d broken up with him. No, this was worse, because she’d let herself hope that they really had a second chance. Just as they’d tried to push an intense high school romance well past its breaking point, Caroline had let herself believe that their brief, adrenaline fueled reunion of the past couple weeks could be the beginning of something new.

  But even though everything had changed, nothing had changed. He was still the same Danny Taggart, and he would never let her in, and never tolerate her moments of neediness. And she was the same Caroline Palomares, and she’d never be satisfied with being shut out and shut down.

  “I’ll go talk to him,” Derek said and started for the door.

  Caroline held up her hand. “No, Danny and I have some things to discuss.”

  She set her wine glass on the counter and crossed the hallway into the living room. Through the glass sliders at the other end of the room she could see Danny out in the yard. His muscles bulged under the long sleeves of his knit shirt and his face was grim as he stared off into the distance. She took a moment to study him, to drink in every nuance of his face and features, letting the memory of him as a thirty-five-year-old man overlay those she had of him as a twenty-three-year-old.

  Different, yet gut wrenchingly familiar.

  His silver eyes that could go from molten hot to icy cold in a heartbeat. His sharp cheekbones and hard jaw dusted with black stubble. His big, long fingered hands that could stroke her to ecstasy as easily as they could snap a man’s neck.

  She loved him so much it hurt, and she knew she always would. The realization that they could never make each other happy was so painful it nearly brought her to her knees.

  He looked up as she stepped through the sliding glass door and raised an impatient hand. “Caroline, I really don’t feel like talking right now.”

  She let out a half laugh, half sob as his words sent a stab of pain straight through her heart. She mustered every bit of strength she possessed to do what needed to be done. Do it quick, like ripping off a bandaid. Let the blood flow. “I think I know better than to ask that of you by now,” she said. “So I’ll do all the talking. I can’t do this again.”

  His dark brows pulled together sharply. “Do what?”

  “This. Us.”

  “What are you talking about?” His voice was sharp with irritation.

  She folded her arms around herself as though that could stop her from breaking into a million tiny pieces. “I thought things would be different. I thought we could be different.”

  “It is different,” he said looking bewildered. “Now I understand what happened and why you broke up with me—”

  She could feel her herself weakening at his genuine confusion. “I didn’t leave you because of the miscarriage, or even because you went out and got drunk when I needed to see you. I left you because you close yourself up and shut everyone out when you have to deal with anything painful.”

  “I just want to shut up and move on,” he said. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Because you don’t move on. You think you do, but you don’t. You just bottle everything up and let it fester until it destroys you from the inside out. And you don’t let anyone else deal with their pain either. We’re all just supposed to suck it up and move on like big, strong Danny Taggart. But not everyone operates that way.”

  “What, just because I won’t spill my guts and cry like a girl, you’re dumping me again? I love you!” It sounded almost like an accusation.

  “And I love you too,” she felt her heart crack in half as she said it. “I think I always will. But that doesn’t mean we can make each other happy.”

  “This is ridiculous. Why are you going psycho on me again?”

  The P word sent fury surging in her chest, hardening her against him like nothing else could. “I’m not going psycho,” she snapped. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think you could change or that anything could be different. You’re doing the exact same thing you always do. Lashing out and pushing me away every time I try to get you to talk to me. Well I’m done. I’m ending it now, before I let you destroy me again.”

  His mouth twitched and she saw something flash in his eyes. That bleak, soul deep need she’d only seen from him twice before. A spark flickered inside her, igniting a feeble ray of hope as she acknowledged the ulterior motive she hadn’t realized was there until that moment.

  A tremor rippled through her body as she watched him, waiting for him to speak. For all her angry
bravado, there was still part of her that wanted him to refuse to give up. Fight for me. Fight for us. Maybe this time when she backed him into a corner he wouldn’t make the same mistake.

  The vulnerable look disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, shut away behind his cold, gray stare, snuffing out the spark of hope.

  His mouth took on a derisive twist. “Fine, if walking out on me is what you need to do, go ahead. I won’t stop you.”

  Her eyes burned with tears and his features blurred. “I do love you Danny. And I hope you’ll be happy someday.”

  He didn’t come after her as she walked through the house and out the front door. She really didn’t expect him to, but silly girl that she was, she hoped.

  Three weeks later

  All this fucking happiness was making him sick to his stomach.

  Or maybe it was the scotch.

  Nah, he thought as he sloshed more MacCallan into his glass. Had to be all the goddamned love in the air. Sickly sweet and radiating off everyone in the room, especially from Ethan and Toni who had announced a few minutes ago that they were engaged.

  He took a healthy swig of the scotch and watched Alyssa give Toni a congratulatory hug. The lines of their bodies started to blur around the edges, letting Danny know the scotch was doing its work. He took another gulp to keep the magic going.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Toni said, spreading her fingers and angling the platinum and ruby creation to catch the light. “It makes it even more special that you designed it personally.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Alyssa said and gave Toni one final squeeze. “I’m just glad Ethan trusted me enough to run with it.”

  “I told her I wanted something as amazing and unique as you,” Ethan said, embracing Toni from behind and pressing a kiss to her neck.

  “Gag me,” Danny muttered. Too loud, apparently because Toni, Ethan, Derek, Alyssa, even his father turned to glare at him. “I mean, congratulations, many happy returns, all that shit.” He grabbed the bottle for another pour and wondered why the hell he’d even come tonight.

  Oh yeah. Because after Danny hadn’t shown up for work for the past three weeks and had avoided any attempts by his family to pin him down, Ethan had threatened to bring the weekly family dinner to Danny’s place if he refused to come to them.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Alyssa asked, her hip cocked as she looked pointedly at the bottle.

  “Nope.” As far as he could tell there wasn’t enough booze in the world to get Caroline out of his head. But he was still hoping. I do love you Danny. And I hope you’ll be happy someday. Her words echoed ceaselessly, until his days had taken on a dismal pattern. Wake up. Run long enough and hard enough to sweat out and puke out the toxins from the day before. Come home. Shower. Spend hours trying not to think of her, resisting the urge to call her. Reaching for a bottle of whatever was on hand to dull the edges of the memories. Hiding his phone from himself before he got too wasted so he wouldn’t do something dumb like drunk dial her. Waking up the next morning to start the whole damn process over again.

  Lather, rinse, repeat.

  You swallow it up and let it fester until it destroys you from the inside.

  Maybe she had something there. He took another swig of scotch to keep himself from thinking too hard about it.

  “Yeah because drinking your face off is obviously the best way to deal with a breakup,” Derek said.

  “‘Snot what’s happening,” Danny lied. “Y’know, you think jus’ because you’re getting married,” liquor splashed his hand as he used his glass to gesture between the two engaged couples, “that everyone needs to be mashed—matched up. But who wants that? Who wants one pussy for the rest of his life? You think Ethan does?” he asked Toni, who hit him with a stony glare. “Honey, Ethan used to get more ass than a toilet seat. You think in a few more months he’s not gonna go sniffin’ ’round?”

  “That’s enough,” the two Dereks said as they moved in to grab Danny’s arm.

  “Aw, come on, dude, like you have it so much better.” Danny wrenched his arm out of Derek’s grip, staggered, and spilled most of his drink down Derek’s shirt. “Lemme tell you somethin’ about Alyssa,” he said in a stage whisper. “She’s a little hellcat. You think she’s going to be happy up here in the ’burbs making her little rings and necklaces when she could be partying on P. Diddy’s yacht? She’s wild. I saw the pictures—”

  He almost felt relief when Derek’s fist caught him square in the mouth and sent him to the floor.

  Finally. Maybe someone would put him out of his fucking misery.

  “Listen you asshole,” Derek said as he grabbed Danny by the collar of his shirt and hauled him back to his feet. “You want to get shit faced and wallow in self-pity because you can’t pull your head out of your ass enough to fix things with Caroline, that’s your choice. But don’t you fucking take it out on Alyssa and Toni.” Derek released him and shoved him away. Danny hit the bar and sent a glass shattering to the floor before he steadied himself.

  Through the boozy haze he could feel his jaw throb. “Din’t mean to ruin the party,” he said and took an uneven step toward the door. “I’ll head out now.”

  A firm hand closed over his shoulder. “Let me drive you home, son.”

  Danny tried to shrug him off. “I’m fine.”

  Joe wheeled Danny around and gave him the steely gray stare that made Danny want to stand up straight and give a full salute even in his drunken state. “You’re an idiot if you think I’ll let you drive in this condition.”

  Danny clumsily fished for his keys and handed them to his father. When they got to his Jeep he climbed into the passenger seat, leaned back and closed his eyes. As the Jeep started to spin like a Tilt-a-whirl, he acknowledged that letting his dad drive was the right decision.

  As they drove in silence he thought of Ethan and Toni and Derek and Alyssa and their bliss that burned him like acid. Why couldn’t he have that? Why didn’t she stay? He was shut out, excluded from their happy little club. Like a fat kid pressing his nose to the bakery glass. Flaunted in his face, just out of reach.

  Danny woke up the next morning face down on the couch, head pounding, and his mouth tasting like he’d been eating shit sandwiches followed by a scotch chaser. Nothing unusual there. The only weird thing was that his jaw hurt and his father was sitting across from him, sipping a cup of coffee as he watched Danny drag himself out of his drunken sleep.

  Danny eased himself into a sitting position, wincing as his brain ricocheted around his skull.

  “So are you going to go after her or what?”

  Danny rubbed his grit filled eyes and tried to focus. “Dad, it’s a little early—”

  Joe put his coffee mug down on the table with a thud that stabbed through Danny’s eyes. “Son, you know I’m not one for giving advice. After what happened with your mother, I’m hardly one to tell you what to do with your love life. But you need to pull your head out of your ass, and soon, or you’re going to destroy yourself over Caroline all over again.”

  It was way too fucking early and he was way too fucking hungover to have that conversation. “Dad, that’s not going to happen. It’s not like that with her. I’m not like…” He managed to cut himself off in time.

  “Not like me? Is that what you were going to say?” Joe’s mouth, so like Danny’s own, pulled into a rueful half smile. “Danny, you’re exactly like me. You’re a stubborn, pigheaded know-it-all who doesn’t know when to admit you’re wrong. And when you love, you love so hard that when it ends you think its going to kill you.”

  Danny pushed off the couch and shuffled to the coffee pot, hoping the caffeine would help him stand up to his father’s onslaught. “Don’t you think that’s a little melodramatic?” Sure, he walked around most days feeling like half of his guts had spilled out, but still…“And forgive me for pointing this out, but I wasn’t the one who stopped my life and couldn’t move on after Mom disappeared.”

  “You think you
moved on from Caroline because you managed to sleep with a bunch of different women? Are you moving on now by shutting yourself off, ignoring your business and turning yourself into a drunk?”

  Danny couldn’t hold his father’s piercing stare as the truth of his words sank in.

  “I know you thought I was crazy, spending all those years and all that money looking for your mother. But I would have given anything to have one more chance with her, to do it right. Any hope of that is gone now, and I have to live with that. Just as I have to live with the knowledge that she died, violently, and I didn’t protect her. And she died not knowing how much I really loved her.”

  Danny swallowed around the painful lump in his throat. On some level he’d been aware his father felt all those things, but hearing the usually taciturn Joe say it out loud punched him in the gut.

  “But what’s really crazy is that Caroline is out there. She’s alive, and she loves you. And you’re sitting here in your cave drowning yourself in a keg of scotch. I can’t believe I raised you to be such a quitter.”

  Danny’s hackles rose at that. “It’s not that simple, Dad. I can’t make her happy. I can’t be who she wants me to be.”

  “Bullshit. When did you even try?”

  Danny was afraid he knew the answer to that. Any time Caroline had even hinted that she needed something more from him, that she was anything less than satisfied with what they had, he’d gotten defensive. He’d all but warned her outright not to ask him for something he didn’t have to give.

  “How do you know you can’t make her happy unless you really try? I sure as shit never did with your mother. We loved each other, and I gave her a good life, and I thought that was enough. I’ll regret that attitude till the day I die. Learn from my mistake. Talk to Caroline, figure out what she needs, and give it to her. That’s how you make her happy.”

  Fifteen minutes later he was running through the woods, his father’s words reverberating through his head as his feet ate up the miles.