Deciding to try a different approach to searching for information, I type in the name of the charity event Clay runs.
Several articles pop up, so I click on one dated around the time the event was held last December and skim over it.
Still engaged.
Jackpot.
At six-thirty, the local evening news comes on. For once I’m hoping Becca’s image appears on the television. I’m curious to see how she interacted with Clay when she arrived at the event, and I’m interested to know what the media asked them.
Fifteen minutes into the broadcast, the story comes on. I sit up, stock still.
Clay is drilled by reporters.
Becca’s eyes close briefly, panic rising, her nerves getting the best of her.
Alice’s name is mentioned.
Becca’s skin pales.
She’s ushered away before I can see if a panic attack ensues. I have to know if she’s OK. I’m going to get my girl, and not a damn soul is going to stop me.
Becca
Since I’m pissed, sad, and emotionally spent, the first two and a half hours of this event are stagnant. Clay finishes his speech; the one I struggled to focus on, and is walking purposefully back to our table.
There will be two musical performances before the event comes to a close. The encore will be a battle of hurtful words and wit between Clay and me on the car ride home. A tug-and-pull of who’s right or wrong, but I only see us both losing.
The applause subside, and the blip from a text message I receive becomes a rude intrusion on the silence. Clay’s look could kill, so I drop my gaze as I pull my phone out of my purse to turn it off.
The words on the screen are first a fuzzy white in the dim room, but as they materialize in my mind, it’s as if they’re being displayed in all caps by an overhead projector for all to see.
“I’m here to rescue you, beautiful, and if you don’t come out, I’m finding a way in.”
Holy shit!
My head whips up, and I lean over to Clay’s ear.
“Travis is outside the building. If I don’t go to him, he’s causing a scene.”
Clay’s jaw stiffens.
“I’ll have security remove him.” He begins to lean over toward Steve, who’s sitting beside him, so I grab his forearm.
“No, I should go out there. I’ll be back.” Slipping out from my chair, I head toward the doors of the ballroom behind us, wishing my heels were tennis shoes.
Passing through the glassed-in lobby, I spot two reporters still hanging out. They see me. Shit, they’re going to follow me.
My heels clack against the few concrete steps I take after exiting. Hearing a whistle, I look to my left and spot Travis leaning against the end of the half concrete wall forming the handicap ramp.
Marching toward him, I’m relieved he’s not at the front doors of the building. My lungs suck in the cold air, but my body is heated, my heart driving the blood through my veins at a vigorous speed.
“What the hell are you doing here?” My forceful exhale is a puff of white air between us, and I shiver for the first time.
“I saw you on the news. You were a wreck, so I had to know you’re OK.”
“I’m fine, so you can leave before anyone spots us together.”
“You look spectacular. He doesn’t deserve to see you like this.”
“Will you listen to me?”
His eyes skid their way down my body, the desire swelling and smoldering in his baby blues, and as his gaze travels, the desire in my belly heads south, too, the thick of it settling between my thighs.
Unlike the other people in the vicinity, Travis is dressed down in a black sweatshirt and a grey hooded Carhartt coat. His brown work boots are laced just below his jeans, his masculinity shrouded only with a layer of sexiness.
I don’t want to be turned on at the moment since I’m furious with him for showing up here and stalling to leave.
“Travis, I have to go back inside. I’ll call you tomorrow like I said I would.”
He grips my waist and spins me around, pinning me between him and the concrete wall.
“See, beautiful, I thought I could do that, but I can’t. You don’t owe Clay shit. You’re part of his political agenda. I feel it, but before I can tell you about Alice, I have to hear you say you’re mine.”
“How do you know about Alice?”
“I did my research. Did he tell you about her?”
“No, but he says he’s going to tonight. Please, Trav, go home!” I stomp one of my heels in frustration and look toward the door.
“Tell me your mine. Say it, Becs.”
Leaning into me, his nose skims up my neck. The goal of his trajectory is to prove we share a passion Clay and I don’t.
Travis perceives the truth. Feels it to his bones. Senses it in my rapid breaths and thundering heart. My head falls back, and the cold slams against my skin. His lips press to it, giving me back warmth.
I blow out a breath and grip his shoulders, my silver clutch barely hanging on beneath my fingers.
“You’re freezing, but I could heat you the fuck up. Baby, leave with me. Let me take you home right now.” His tongue twirls along my ear as he hikes up one of my legs, hitching it to his hip.
“Once we’re alone, my hands are going to tug, caress and spread you wide. My mouth will nip, and lave and taste your sweet pussy. You’re going to let me work your body over because you crave it as desperately as I do.”
“Travis …”
“Say it. Say you’re choosing me so I can carry you out of here and fuck you senseless.”
I smack him with my purse.
“Ugh! You’re so infuriating when you don’t get your way!”
“And so are you. It’s one of the reasons we’re in the mess we’re in, but I won’t let you get away from me again. We’ll work through our dumb shit in the future. Say it, baby. Say you choose me.”
“I choose you. I love you and only want you.”
Relief almost overshadows his victorious expression. Almost.
Our lips collide, and his pelvis pushes into me. I’m drowning in his kiss, his touch, his breath, his growl. All of it has finally swallowed me whole. He can give me his last name and babies, and I’ll give him all of me: my present, my future, my body and soul.
He stops our kiss and pulls me in for a hug.
“I’ll give you everything I can, beautiful, and one day we’ll have another baby, too. I promise.”
“A baby? Becca, what the hell is he talking about?” Clay asks.
Travis is spun around, and in a split-second, he stumbles back against me, shoving me into the wall from the punch Clay has laid into him.
Turning to me, Travis’s eyes are panicked, and blood is spurting from his nose, but it’s not fazing him.
“Are you OK?” he asks. A flashing light stuns my eyes, so I look to the right.
Men in tuxes and suits are running full speed toward us, cameramen, too. A play-by-play of our drama is unfolding for the public’s viewing.
“Get the hell away from her!” Clay shouts. Travis’s brow furrows as he’s yanked back again, but this time he spins around and lays Clay flat to the ground.
“Travis!” Grabbing my hand, he tows me toward his truck at a brisk pace. “I can’t just leave!”
“Why the fuck not? He didn’t even think about you when he hit me.”
“She’s all I was thinking about,” Clay barks. “Becca, please don’t go with him. Let’s talk about this and everything I should’ve told you.”
Travis comes to an abrupt stop, and I collide with his shoulder as he shifts to face Clay’s direction.
“Oh, right. You still need to tell her about how you were engaged at last year’s charity event,” he sneers.
“Or maybe you need to fill her in on how Alice is a paraplegic who looks identical to Becca. Are you trying to replace her with a younger, healthier version?”
“Travis! That’s enough.” I grab his chin, but he wo
n’t budge. “Look at me.” He’s struggling to listen, his piercing stare shredding Clay to pieces.
I fumble to pull a tissue from my purse and hold it out to him. His anger gets a brief break at controlling him as he takes it and wipes the blood still dripping from his nose.
“I have to go with him, to hear him out and tell him the truth, too. I need to diffuse this situation for the both of us, or you could be in a world of trouble.”
“He hit me first, and I don’t want to let you go.”
Steve and another gentleman, a security guard I believe, are tending to a cut over Clay’s eye.
He continually glances to Travis and me as a cameraman records our theatrics. The snarky reporter from earlier is directing him, adding her commentary.
The commotion is high-pitched, a clamoring of voices, but I give my attention back to Travis and tune it out. My hand cradles his cheek.
“I promise to come back to you. Give me an hour.”
His eyes once lit up with victory and desire are now desperate and sad.
“I didn’t mean to cause you more hurt.”
“I know. I dragged this out too long.”
“Swear to me it’s over with him and you’re coming back.”
“I swear.”
His hand covers mine at his cheek. He holds them both there for several seconds before he brings them down and let’s my fingers slip from his.
Without another word, he tramps away from us toward the dark parking lot. I stand frozen and freezing, watching him go, feeling the weight of his heart inside my own chest.
I’m hesitant as I approach Clay. He’s speaking with Steve while holding a white handkerchief above his eye.
“Have Glenn bring the car up,” he says before Steve leaves to give us privacy.
“Every guest is going to file out of that building any minute. We need to get out of here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Save it. I think the media has enough to ruin me and my career.” Regretful for his words as soon as they leave his lips, he sighs and shrugs off his tux jacket before draping it over my shoulders.
“Were you hurt when I punched him and he fell against you?”
“No. I’m fine.” I remove the handkerchief from his hand and pat at the cut above his eye. He’s staring at me–through me–in a way he never has before, and it’s as if we’re seeing each other truthfully for the first time.
“I was eager to start a new life once Alice set me free,” he murmurs.
“When I met you, I wanted to start over, too … but I’ve since discovered I never needed a new beginning.”
“I know.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Becca
We’re a mile down the road, the car remaining eerily silent. Undoing my seatbelt, I turn my body to face him.
“We’re going to spill it all, Clay, right here, right now.” He unbuckles, too, and shuts the partition before shifting his body. “If it will be easier for you, I’ll go first,” I add.
“Travis and I had been dating only a few months when my parents gifted Molly and me a trip to Europe.”
I continue with my story, sharing with him about the breakup and the horrid details of the accident. I cry along with my words, especially when I tell him about the miscarriage.
He holds my hand, his eyes tearing up alongside mine, and any anger he held toward me fades as he hangs onto every word I say.
“… When I went to visit Travis at the hospital, another woman was in his room with him, so I left crying, feeling the finality of our future. That’s when you approached me in the lobby.
“I was serious about dating you, Clay, but he was persistent, and I was forced to face that I still loved him. I’ve been battling it, wishing it could work between you and me, but I’m sure I want to spend my life with him.”
A long exhale leaves his chest, and his fingers graze my cheek.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.”
I notice the car has stopped, and I can see through the darkness that we’re parked in front of my house.
“Glenn can’t hear us, and he’s a patient man.”
Giving a faint smile, I stare at Clay.
“It was Alice who you had planned to see on Thanksgiving, wasn’t it?”
“I was going to visit her, but she refused to see me. Let me explain....
“Alice and I began dating in college. We stayed together into graduate school, both of us working toward law degrees. We were about to marry when we went on a joint bachelor/bachelorette vacation in Miami Beach with our closest friends.
“The first couple of days were a blast, but we were getting carried away, drinking too much on the beachfront property we’d rented.
“My buddies and I were playing cards inside, but Alice and her girlfriends were on the second-floor balcony, dancing while inebriated. The railing was short and Alice stumbled. She fell over the side, and that’s when our lives were forever changed.
“As she lay on the ground, she opened her eyes long enough to tell me she wasn’t in pain, and that was because she was paralyzed from the neck down with no chance of recovery.”
Picturing the life-altering moment, I bring my hand up to my mouth.
“I was there for her as she adjusted to her new way of living. I was by her side through the sadness, anger and bitterness, feeling a lot of the same things myself.
“But the grief of losing our mapped-out future was too much for her to overcome. After only six months, she was encouraging me to leave her, but I refused. I told her we were staying engaged until she was ready to marry me.
“We could’ve had a fulfilling life together. It would’ve been challenging but doable. I swear, Becca, I still wanted to marry her.
“We could’ve adopted children or had a surrogate, but she wouldn’t budge. She was always rejecting me, and it became a battle of wills, often leaving us both lonely.
“We’ve shared countless time together over the years. Holidays, birthdays and many days between. Sometimes Alice would seem like her old self, happy and hopeful, but more often than not, our time together would end in a fight.
“She would plead for me to let her go. She loved me enough to watch me move on, and I loved her enough to stay.
“Yet over the years I’ve been unfaithful, giving in to temptation on occasion, and I would beat myself up for it each and every time.
“It was Alice I longed for, but I also missed the intimacy. A hug. A woman’s touch. If she had allowed us to be closer, I believe I would’ve been faithful, but I felt stuck and alone between two worlds.”
The tears well up in my eyes as the magnitude of what they lost settles deep in my gut.
“I’ve protected her all of these years, shutting down reporters every time they pried about our relationship. As the years passed, the story became old news, only coming up around the annual charity event.
“In May of this year, she asked me over. She’d been distant for some time, keeping me away at every turn. I was relieved she wanted to see me, but the visit didn’t go as I expected.
“She said if I didn’t let her end our relationship, she’d never allow me to step foot inside her home again.
“She made me take the engagement ring I’d given her over a decade before and told me she wanted to move on, too, and find someone who had a disability like hers.
“All the years I thought I was being there for her, I was actually holding her back. Anyway, I finally caved. I grieved all summer, feeling like a failure and a deserter, but Penelope helped me through it. She’s Alice’s best friend and gave me a different perspective on things.”
“Oh, my god. To Penelope, and everyone else you introduced me to, I looked like Alice’s replacement. My looks–my youth. It’s why Penelope reacted the way she did.”
“I admit when I saw you at the hospital, your resemblance to the Alice I fell in love with nudged me to you, but once we spoke, I felt a connection.
“You were different
than the other women I’d known, and seeing you sad at the hospital stirred something inside me. I thought I could be your hero and fix whatever was upsetting you. Then, maybe I wouldn’t feel useless like I did with Alice year after year.”
“Wanting to rescue me to right the unjust in your life isn’t the same as loving me.”
He grips my chin.
“I admit I was in a hurry to find all the things she and I lost, but I genuinely wanted to build a different life with you once I unearthed how special you were.”
Pulling his hand down, I hold it snugly.
“You shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting the kind of life you would’ve had with Alice. It’s OK if you marry a woman from a wealthy family who has a law degree or a PhD.
“She can love the symphony, politics, and yearn for five children, and you don’t have to beat yourself up over that, but I’m not that woman. We both wanted it to be true, but it was only to escape the familiarity that had caused us so much pain.
“We’re nothing alike, Clay. I love the country life and want to share it with Travis and our families. I want to lie under the stars, ride dirt bikes with the guys, and have picnics in the backyard. I look for bargains at Walmart and enjoy curling up on the couch to watch reality TV.
“I’m no dummy, but my brain has no desire to work as hard as yours.” We both laugh, and it’s a nice change to the evening. His hand wraps around my neck, and he brings me to him to kiss my forehead.
“You’re a wonderful woman, Becca, and thank you for saying what you did. Travis is a lucky man.”
“I’m sorry he showed up tonight. What’s going to happen now?”
“It will be ugly for all of us. Once I consult with Steve and my PR team, I’ll give a statement. I should’ve been open about Alice from the beginning, so I will bear the brunt of the blame. Can you not comment until I call you?”
“Of course.” Once I’ve kissed his cheek, I open the door but turn back to him. “I’ll always be here for you as a friend, Clay. I mean that.”
He smiles as I’m shutting the door. I’m overwhelmed with emotions, but the one staking claim is the yearning to get to Travis.
Fail to Trust (The Casteel Trust Series Book 2) Page 22
