by Natalie Ann
“Does it matter?” Mallory asked.
“It does.” It should, shouldn’t it? “Was it me? Did I cause you to leave?”
He had to know. If she said yes, he’d hate himself, but no more than he already did.
“Why the hell would you think that?” Mallory asked, looking more annoyed than he’d ever seen her before. Then he stopped and really looked at her. The eighteen-year-old was gone and in her place stood a woman, and one that was nothing like the shy girl from before.
She still had the long blonde hair and the big blue eyes. The same fair-colored skin and sharp cheekbones. She was thin like always, but stronger now. Not so frail in her stature, and there was a strength in her eyes. A determination.
She wasn’t the bashful meek girl that had a crush on him back then. He could see it now. Something had changed with her…that was obvious.
“I turned you away. I hurt you. I made you cry. Then two days later you were gone,” he explained, and felt like a fool when she burst out laughing at him.
“Nick, do you really think you telling me we were just friends would cause me to leave home? You’re thinking awful highly of yourself right now. It had nothing to do with you.”
It was more than saying they were just friends, but he didn’t add that. “Then what?” he asked. When she refused to answer, he turned to his grandmother. “There is more going on. It’s apparent. Someone tell me something.”
“Nick,” his grandmother said while she poured another shot for him. “Have another drink. It’s long and it’s complicated and you can’t expect to get answers all at once after twelve years.”
He wasn’t buying that, though. He wasn’t one for being pushed off and he wouldn’t be now. “So you came to my grandmother hoping she’d help you. Or hide you, or whatever?” he asked, looking at Mallory.
Again, he watched the two women eye each other and knew he wasn’t going to be getting much of the truth out of them. “Yes,” Mallory said, but he didn’t buy that answer one bit either.
“Bullshit.” He turned to his grandmother. “And why didn’t you tell anyone? You didn’t even tell Mom, did you? What was so bad she had to run away? Mom’s a lawyer. If Mallory was in trouble, Mom would have helped and you know it.”
“Your mother didn’t know. She doesn’t know. No one knows Mallory is here, Nick. And for now, Mallory would like to keep it that way. Can she count on you to keep her secret?”
Nick looked at Mallory, and saw she was losing some of her composure, or the front that she seemed to be putting on. If he said no, he’d never get any answers.
“For now. Whether or not I continue to keep the secret will depend on what you two end up telling me.” He stood up and walked off the deck. “I’m going home. I’ll give you two time to get your stories straight.”
***
Mallory looked over at Trixie as she watched Nick paddling back home. “What are we going to do?”
Trixie shook her head. “About what?”
“Nick. He can’t know the truth. I don’t want anyone to know,” Mallory said, adamant.
“You can trust him.”
“Maybe, but I don’t want to relive it. I’ve put it behind me. Why can’t it stay there?”
“It will never stay there if you don’t tell someone.”
“You know,” Mallory pointed out.
“I’m not talking about me. I helped you set up a new life here. I’ve watched you grow and turn into a beautiful woman, but I’m sick of watching you hide. I want you to go out and live your life just as much as I want Nick to. Maybe it’s time I stepped back and let you handle this on your own. Let you take control of the wheel now. You should have years ago and you know it.”
“I don’t know which way to go.”
“Then figure it out, Mallory. You’re smart. No one says you have to do it right this minute. No one says it has to even be next week, though I can tell you I don’t think Nick will leave until he gets answers.”
“He was always stubborn that way.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” Trixie said, then walked over and gave her a hug. “Sweetie. Maybe things are going to work out for the best. Maybe not. But it’s time now, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
Trixie stepped back. “I’m going to go home and try to handle Nick. I won’t answer any questions. I won’t say anything other than he has to hear it all from you.”
“I don’t want him to know you helped me. That you set this all up and got me away. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
Trixie laughed. “How am I going to get in trouble? You were eighteen. You were an adult and you went with me freely. I didn’t kidnap you and no one can say otherwise. I was still in Richmond when you disappeared. No one can come back to a little old granny for that, can they?”
“You’re going to hold that little old granny comment over my head now, aren’t you?”
“I just might. Go in the house, have another drink, take a shower, read a book, work on your book. Do something to get your mind off of what happened. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Mallory watched Trixie walk off the deck and toward the front of the house and her car. She’d take Trixie’s advice and lose herself in her work. Trixie had never steered her wrong before. Never. Ever.
Picking up the three glasses and the bottle of vodka, Mallory went back in the house and into the kitchen. Pouring herself another shot, she tossed it back and grimaced, feeling the burn in the back of her throat, the water springing to her eyes. She’d never been much of a liquor drinker. She only kept the vodka in the house for Trixie.
She remembered the look on Nick’s face when she laughed at him for thinking she ran away because of him and what he’d said to her.
Sure, he hurt her, and she’d wanted to run far away when he told her she thought more of him than he did of her. That he’d only played her as a bet. A bet with a friend to see if he could get her to sleep with him. To be her first. She was glad he didn’t go through with it. That he stopped and told her the truth a few days after he’d kissed her.
She’d been heartbroken. She’d thought she was in love with him.
The two years prior to that he’d brushed her off. He was always nice when he saw her hanging around with his younger sister, Rene. But he only saw her as Rene’s friend, and never had much to say to her otherwise.
Then when she was seventeen and he was nineteen, he started to look at her differently. He started to notice her.
Of course, so did everyone else then. She was a late bloomer, but when she finally hit puberty everyone noticed. Including some people she would have preferred didn’t.
But when Nick noticed, she was happy. She was thrilled. So she approached him. She tried to flirt and hung all over him when he was around.
He always acted like he enjoyed it. He seemed like he tried to find time together for the two of them, even sought her out when he was home for college breaks. More so the summer before she left.
And that first kiss. It was everything she always wanted it to be. Everything she dreamed of.
She’d gone to bed that night and hugged her pillow tight, falling asleep with a silly grin on her face and stars flashing in her eyes. Rainbows and unicorns were dancing above her head over Nick back then.
Until two days later when he told her what he’d really been after.
She picked the shot glass up again, turned it around in her hand and contemplated taking another shot. Instead she threw it against the wall and watched it shatter everywhere.
Another crappy birthday on the books.
Never Change
The next afternoon, Mallory started to walk the mile to Trixie’s house. She hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before, not that she thought she would. Every possible scenario had formed in her mind and nothing gave her the ending she had hoped for.
She’d finally gotten up at some point after two in the morning and started to write. That always calm
ed her and transported her into another place. A place to put her own troubled past behind her—to let her take a break from what had happened to her.
When she was wrung dry and had nothing else left to type, she’d taken a shower, ate some breakfast, and ended up crashing on the couch for a few hours.
Rather than put it off any longer, she decided to seek Nick out.
She still had no idea what she was going to say to him. The best she could come up with was to answer what questions he asked—questions that she chose to answer.
His BMW was in the driveway so she walked around back. She opened the door and saw him sitting at the kitchen table in front of his laptop. He looked up sharply, half jumping, half annoyed.
“Sorry. I should have knocked, but I’m not used to doing that.”
He schooled his features, shut his laptop down, and stared at her. From her view, he looked no better than her and she would guess he’d gotten about as little sleep as she did.
“My grandmother isn’t here.”
“I know. She goes to lunch with friends on Wednesdays. I came to see you.”
Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and nodded her forward. “By all means, come right on in. Not that you need an invite from me. Seems to me this house is more a home to you than it ever was to me.”
She walked forward and pulled the chair out across from him. “Don’t be mad at your grandmother. It’s not her fault.”
“Fault is debatable right now. But who says I’m mad at her?”
Shrugging, she said, “You are, it’s obvious. You’re tense, your eyes are narrowed, and your nostrils are flaring.”
And it didn’t detract from his looks at all. He still had those deep, dark brown eyes—eyes that she’d gotten lost in as a child. High cheekbones, more pronounced in his anger, and a nice strong square chin.
Power. His face always looked powerful to her. She wasn’t surprised to learn how successful he’d become. He was born to lead.
“You think you know me so well, but you don’t have a clue,” he said, half snarling.
“Some things never change.”
“A lot of things have changed. I’m not the person I was twelve years ago. And by the looks of things, neither are you. No, I take that back. You look the same, only better. But the girl I knew back then wouldn’t have done what you did. She wouldn’t have stayed hidden for so long, and she sure the hell wouldn’t have come here this morning all cool and collected like the last twelve years never happened.”
Cool and collected? Was that what he thought? Talk about clueless. Cool and collected was the last thing she was feeling right now.
She was tense, she was nervous, and she was terrified. Not only because she was positive he hated her right now, but because she didn’t know her next move and she always knew her next move.
Being on the run for so long, she’d had to plan for every outcome. For once, she had no plan. “No, I’m not that person anymore either. But some parts of me haven’t changed.”
“Not from where I’m sitting.”
She crossed her arms in front of her, mimicking him. He wanted to play this way; then she would too. Screw it. She could be a hard ass too. “Then what do you see? Tell me.”
“I remember a girl that was shy, that was sweet, and that was naive. You’re none of those things.”
“I’m still shy. I don’t like people all that much and can honestly tell you I talk to very few. Sweet, probably not anymore, at least in your eyes. And naive…well, that was forced from me years ago.”
“What does that mean?”
She ignored his question. “Listen, Nick. I came here to talk to you. I don’t even know what to say. I don’t know where to start, but I had to talk to you. You deserve some answers.”
“I would think so, but somehow I doubt I’m going to get any.”
“Ask away,” she said and wished she didn’t. She couldn’t remember the last time she was around someone that pushed her buttons as much as Nick was right now. But in all honesty, he was justified in her eyes.
“Why did you leave?”
“I can’t say right now.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“A little bit of both.” She held her hand up when he went to speak. “I trust very few people in my life. Actually, the only person I trust is Trixie and she is the only person who knows everything. When I think I can trust you, I’ll tell you more.”
“That’s kind of a joke. You don’t trust me, huh? What makes you think I have any trust in you, or even want to trust you?”
His words hurt, but he was right. One hundred percent correct in his statement. “Trust works both ways. I know that. Maybe we can try to trust again.”
“Again?”
“I trusted you once,” she pointed out.
“And I broke that trust that night, didn’t I?”
Did his face just soften? Did he look remorseful? Maybe she was seeing something she wanted to see rather than what was.
“You did,” she said softly, losing some of her annoyance. They weren’t going to get anywhere if they were snapping back and forth.
“I thought you said that had nothing to do with you running away.”
She composed herself a bit more and said, “It didn’t. I’m just saying I trusted you once, but not many other people. Just you and your family and my father, and then Trixie.”
“And when your father died, it was just my family and me, right?”
Her father had died in a car accident when she was fourteen. Her parents had been coming home from one of the many work functions that her father had to attend as president of a large bank. It was late and the roads were foggy. A kid going too fast in the other direction lost control of his car and hit her parents head-on. Her father died instantly, her mother in critical condition. “Yeah.”
“You used to trust your mother. What happened?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious what happened,” she said dryly.
Her mother was never the same after that accident. In more pain from her injuries than any person should have to endure, she turned to the prescription pain pills she’d been given, then started to steal them from her job when the doctors refused to prescribe her more.
No one spoke of her mother’s addiction in public, but it wasn’t a secret, either.
“I’d tell you that your mother passed away, but I’m assuming you already know that.”
“Trixie has kept me informed. I said my goodbyes.”
“You said your goodbyes? You weren’t at the funeral; I would have known. I looked for you.”
He did? He was looking for her? She’d watched him that day, but never once did she think he was looking for her.
“I was there. I learned to hide well.”
“I don’t believe it. There is no way you were there and no one knew.”
He was the one who looked hurt now, and she couldn’t blame him. She had wanted to go up and talk to him five years ago. To hold him, to just touch him, but she couldn’t. She’d watched his parents and Rene that day, and her heart shattered again. Almost as much as it had the day she’d left.
If it wasn’t for Trixie being there with her, she didn’t know how she would have handled it.
“I dyed my hair black, put in brown contacts, and padded my clothing. I have a good hand with makeup and can disguise my face enough, not to mention I kept my face down most of the time and never made eye contact. I didn’t stay very long, but I had to be there. I had to say goodbye.”
It was probably the hardest thing she’d had to do, to go back home and see everyone again.
Burying her mother, that wasn’t hard. Her mother had checked out years before, but part of Mallory wanted to see the woman she once loved. The woman that once held her hand and read her stories at night when she was scared. The woman who let her sneak into bed with her and her father on Sunday mornings and snuggle in for cartoons.
Only the reality of it was that
woman had ceased to exist.
“None of this seems possible to me,” Nick said, holding her stare and making her feel a vulnerability she hadn’t felt in years.
“Trust me, it is.”
He pushed back from the table and stood up, then started to pace.
She felt caged in. He always had a presence in a room and had one even more so now as an adult. She felt him stop behind her but refused to turn her head and look at him.
“We’ve gotten off the topic here. I’m sure this isn’t what you wanted to talk to me about.”
She could feel his breath on the back of her neck when he spoke, the thrill of it, the chills bringing back memories of her childhood crush.
She stared straight ahead at the clock on the wall, not even noticing the time or anything else in the kitchen, just pushing back a deep longing she’d thought had been buried years ago.
“Not really. I didn’t have an agenda on what to say. I just thought I’d take it one step at a time.”
“And what’s the next step? Aside from you needing to trust me before you tell me more?”
“Friendship maybe?”
“You want to be my friend? Seriously? That’s what this is about?”
She tried not to get insulted by his tone. His reaction was warranted, she knew that, but held her ground and put on the front of a strong person again. A person who had enough courage to run away in the middle of the night and start a whole new life so far away.
“Sure, why not?” she said.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
“It seems to me we could both use a friend right now.”
Whose Idea
He stared at her as if she’d grown two heads, only she hadn’t.
He was looking at her from behind still, at her long blonde hair, the soft waves in it. She was staring at the wall and couldn’t see him or sense what he was going through. The mixed emotions pouring out of him.
