For All We Know (One Strike Away Book 3)

by Mary J. Williams

  "People are starting to talk about you and Dippy Delaney."

  "Stop calling her that. Or any of the other names you use. She's Delaney."

  Eddie snorted.

  "I'm serious, Eddie."

  "Serious? About Dippy—" All Travis had to do was raise an eyebrow. Eddie recognized the look, though this was the first time the warning had been directed his way. He closed his mouth, but he wasn't happy with the turn of events.

  "Do you want to know why you think Delaney is strange?" Travis asked as he stored his bag on the back of his motorcycle.

  "Because she is? Sorry." Eddie raised his hands as if trying to ward off his oldest friend's displeasure.

  Travis gave Eddie some slack. He couldn't condemn his friend for a crime he'd been guilty of not so long ago.

  "Delaney is shy. Introverted. Instead of trying to see past her insecurities, we branded her. Strange. Dippy. Yes, she's different. Smarter than the rest of us. Younger. Not as experienced. But different isn't necessarily a bad thing."

  Eddie shrugged, not ready to concede Travis' point.

  Travis sighed, searching his brain for a way to explain that Eddie would understand. His lips twitched when an idea popped.

  "Remember when we were around eight, maybe nine? The old shed by your house?"

  "Maybe." Leary, Eddie's eyes narrowed.

  "You wouldn't go near the thing because you were convinced a monster lived inside. All the creaks and groans when the wind blew had you freaked out."

  "Freaked out is a bit of an exaggeration."

  Travis snorted.

  "Come on, man. I was there. You practically crapped your pants when your dad finally had enough and dragged you out there."

  Eddie's father, flashlight in one hand, holding his son by the scruff of the neck with the other, examined every inch of that old shed. Under the rotting boards. The cobweb-covered corners. Twenty minutes later, no more monsters.

  "The unknown is always scary. Try getting to know Delaney. She's worth the effort."

  Slowly, Eddie nodded, as if giving Travis' words serious thought.

  "You've forgotten the most important thing about that old shed."

  "What's that?"

  "The monster didn't disappear until the next day when Dad bulldozed the motherfucker. Razed the bastard to the ground." Eyes sharp as daggers, Eddie smiled slowly. "Then burned the remains to nothing but ashes."

  Travis felt a sick lump form in his stomach.

  "Jesus, Eddie."

  "Lighten up, man. Can't you take a joke anymore?" Eyes clearing, a chuckle slipping past his lips, Eddie patted Travis on the back. "Enjoy your new little friend. If you change your mind about the party, you know where to find us. If not, see you Monday."

  Watching as Eddie jumped into the cab of his girlfriend's late-model pickup, Travis wondered if the boy he thought he'd known for all these years had changed. Or had he been blind to a dark side that always lurked beneath the surface?

  Since they could crawl, they had been like brothers. Mischief making. Secret sharing. Imagining their futures.

  He was tired, Travis decided, blaming his restless sleep instead of Eddie.

  Late at night, darkness invaded his thoughts as well as his bedroom, bringing nerves he hadn't realized he possessed and a trace of doubt to his—up until now—unflagging belief in his talent.

  Maybe he wasn't good enough to play professional baseball at the highest level. Maybe he'd flame out, end up back in Green Hills, trudging through each day with nothing to look forward to but a nine-to-five, nowhere job and bitter regrets.

  When the sun rose the next morning, Travis woke with renewed optimism. But the little voice of doom wasn't gone, simply waiting, making him toss and turn when normally, he'd sleep like a log. His brain clear and untroubled.

  Shaking his head, Travis pocketed his keys, jogging across the lawn. Placing his hand on the door, he paused, music reaching his ears. The melody entered his blood, relaxing his tense muscles, easing his mind. Quietly, he entered the room.

  Travis could have spent all day trying to explain to Eddie the connection he felt to Delaney. But why waste his time when he didn't understand completely? On the surface, they had little in common. But they could talk nonstop about nothing in particular. Or simply walk side by side, the silence never feeling awkward.

  Friends. Pure and simple.

  "I know you're there," Delaney said without breaking the flow of the song.

  "Naturally. You have eyes in the back of your head." In a few long strides, Travis covered the distance between them. "Besides, I wasn't trying to hide."

  Delaney raised her head, her eyes—a clear, pure purple—unobstructed by the glasses that sat on the piano. Lips curved in a small, but welcoming smile.

  "Then why stand in the shadows?"

  "The acoustics are better over by the door."

  "Okay." Her smile widened, not buying his excuse for a second.

  Travis shrugged.

  "Sometimes when you know I'm watching, you stop."

  "You made me nervous."

  Her fingers flew over the keys, ending in a flourish Travis could appreciate but never dream of duplicating.

  "I made you nervous? Not anymore?"

  "Not anymore."

  Delaney lowered her hands to her lap. Once, she would have clasped her fingers together, her knuckles white. She would have kept her head down, her eyes averted.

  Gaze steady, chin held high, hands relaxed, the way Delaney held her body told a tale beyond her words.

  No. Travis didn't make her nervous. Not anymore.

  "I didn't expect you to come to the game."

  "How did you…?" Delaney frowned. "I didn't think anybody noticed me."

  "You can't hide from me." Travis grinned. "Not anymore."

  "I should embroider that on a pillow."

  "You embroider?"

  "Badly," she admitted. "But if pressed, I could do a few simple words."

  "If pressed, I'll buy us t-shirts."

  Laughing, Delaney reached for her glasses. Travis was faster.

  "What would happen if I accidentally stepped on these things?" Casually, he tossed the frames in the air, catching them easily. "Again and again?"

  The look in Delaney's eyes told him she wouldn't mind if his questions become a reality. Still, she held her hand out, waiting until Travis gave her back the glasses.

  "My stepfather would buy me another pair. As soon as he gets back from Mexico."

  Travis didn't know Munch Brill beyond recognizing him on the street. But if he were anything like the rest of his family, living with the man couldn't have been easy.

  The Brills weren't particularly liked around Green Hills.

  "When did your stepfather leave?"

  "Yesterday."

  "How long will he be gone?"

  If a sigh could tell a story, Delaney's did. Happiness and joy. They looked good on her.

  "A month. Four whole weeks."

  "Thirty-one days?" Travis grinned, her mood contagious.

  "If we're lucky."

  "Delaney—"

  Travis didn't know what questions to ask. He wanted to help. But how?

  Before he could think of something—anything—Delaney tossed her own question his way. And surprised all other thoughts from his head.

  "Can we go for a ride on your motorcycle?"

  "Now?"

  The hope that briefly sparkled in her eyes died a quick death.

  "I suppose you have plans." Delaney's chin dropped to her chest with a dejected sigh. "Saturday night at Tillman's Quarry."

  "What do you know about the quarry?"

  "Everybody knows, even if they aren't invited."

  Travis couldn't picture Delaney standing around an impromptu bonfire, a beer in her hand.

  "You want to go?"

  "Not really. But I wouldn't mind if someone had asked—at least once."
/>   "Now I feel guilty."

  "Good." Delaney squared her shoulders. "I'm not the only one who's been left out, Travis. Look around sometime. You might be surprised how many kids go unnoticed. People you might like if you gave them a chance."

  Hadn't he said almost the same thing to Eddie not thirty minutes earlier? Talk about his words coming back to bite him.

  "Well, shit."

  "Exactly," Delaney nodded. "Don't beat yourself up, Travis. You did a good deed by me. One charity case is enough for anybody."

  "You're my friend, Delaney." Travis took her hand—one of the few times he'd touched her. But he wanted her to understand. "Friends. From the beginning."

  Delaney looked at their joined hands, then looked at Travis. Her eyes—God, those eyes—were like a punch to his gut and ray of sunlight all tangled up together.

  "I know."

  "Good. Still want to go for that ride?"

  "Really?"

  Travis laughed. For the first time that he could remember, Delaney's face lit with excitement. She looked like what she was. A fifteen-year-old girl.

  "But you can't go wearing that."

  A little of the light left her eyes as she touched her baggy dress.

  "I don't have anything else."

  "Don't worry. I do."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ● ≈ ● ≈ ●

  TRAVIS RACED THE bike up the mountain road, controlling the powerful machine with practiced ease. Behind him, Delaney held on tight, her laughter about the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

  Slowing down, he turned off the pavement onto dirt and gravel. The back wheel fishtailed, but Travis regained control quickly.

  "Don't worry," Travis yelled over his shoulder when Delaney squeezed him harder. "I won't let anything happen to you."

  "I know."

  A simple response, but filled with absolute conviction. Only human—a teenager through and through—Travis felt a flash of pride. Followed by a warm glow that spread over his body.

  Delaney trusted him.

  Not completely. Not with her deepest secrets. However, the fact that she was sitting behind him was a huge step. A few months ago, she never would have agreed, let alone made the suggestion. Progress, indeed.

  Travis couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when the thick walls she'd built around herself had lowered enough to let him in. Slowly. Steadily. Their casual conversations had taken on a deeper meaning.

  If not with words, then the way she could look him in the eyes without hesitation. Or the smile on her lips when she didn't know he watched.

  And, Travis could say without hesitation—the feeling of ease went both ways.

  Another turn, then one more, Travis brought the bike to a stop.

  "What a beautiful spot. How did you know it was here?"

  "A few years ago, Dad and I were up here doing a job. On the way home, we had a flat. Changing a tire is pretty much a one-man job. So, to pass the time, I took a walk. My wandering brought me here."

  In the center of the small, secluded area was a grass-covered hill perfect for a person to sit and think. Or take a nap. Or simply stare at the sky. Since that day, Travis had come back to do all three—depending on his mood.

  However, he'd always come alone. Until Delaney.

  "I feel like we're surrounded by an oasis. Without the sand. Or palm trees."

  Chuckling, Travis swung his leg over the bike, removing his helmet. Delaney's observations weren't so far off from his thoughts the first time he walked into the clearing.

  "No camels either. Sorry."

  "Too bad. If there were camels, we wouldn't be in South Carolina."

  Travis couldn't miss the touch of wistful longing that filled Delaney's voice.

  "You want to be someplace else?"

  "I want a lot of things." Delaney removed her helmet, setting it on the seat of the bike. "And one day, I'll get them."

  No longer wistful, Delaney sounded determined, a touch of unexpected steel entering her tone. Travis understood need. Want and desperation were his old friends. The feelings burned in his gut 24/7.

  Delaney knew Travis' plans. Hell, the entire town of Green Hills knew. But she hadn't shared what she wanted after they graduated. And because she always tensed up when their conversations turned too personal, he hadn't asked.

  Travis was tired of pussyfooting around. They were friends. Delaney trusted him not to smash her body into a million pieces. Why shouldn't she trust him with her dreams?

  "What do you want to do with your life, Del?"

  As she turned her head, her eyes met his. Purple. Dark. Intense.

  "I want to live."

  For a moment, Travis didn't think Delaney meant to elaborate. She slowly walked around the clearing, her fingers lightly dancing over a patch of wildflowers.

  Delaney looked a fraction of her age, like a little girl in the middle of playing dress-up. The leather jacket he'd loaned her was three sizes too big, hanging loose on her slight frame. And though the hem of the blue jeans hit her several inches above her ankles, the waist gaped a bit, her slim hips not close to filling out the denim in the same way as the original owner.

  However, when she reached up, loosening her hair until the long, dark locks fell free down her back, Travis caught a glimpse of who she'd be a few years down the road.

  Her face bathed in the late afternoon sun, he knew that with a little seasoning—a touch of experience to add interest to her still maturing countenance—Delaney would turn heads in every room she entered.

  Striking more than beautiful. Something about her would demand a second look. Then a third.

  Like him—at this moment—nobody would be able to take their eyes off her.

  "I want to wake up every morning free to make my own decisions. Free to wear what I want. Eat what I want. Talk to whomever I want." Delaney sighed. "I want…"

  "Freedom?" Travis teased. Didn't all kids want to do whatever they wanted?

  Instead of the answering smile he expected, Delaney's expression turned grave—deadly serious.

  "Yes."

  Then, before Travis could respond, her face cleared, light replacing dark.

  "The clothes?" Delaney slipped off the jacket, swinging it back and forth on her outstretched hand. "Where did you get them?"

  "They were in the saddle bags on my bike."

  "Ah," Delaney said as if she suddenly understood everything.

  Normally, Travis enjoyed when a twinkle entered Delaney's gaze. But not this time.

  "Whatever you think you know, you're wrong." He found himself on the defensive, and not happy to be there. "You aren't the first girl to ride behind me on my bike."

  Delaney's lips twitched, obviously enjoying Travis' discomfort.

  "You sent her home naked?"

  "No." Travis snatched the jacket from Delaney. "She'd consumed a little too much beer." A lot of beer, if Travis' memory served him right. "We—and some friends—went swimming. She had her bathing suit on under her clothes. We argued. She chose to ride home with somebody else."

  "Without her clothes?"

  "You're awfully inquisitive today." Unusual for Delaney. A sudden thought hit Travis, one that put a smile back on his lips. "If I tell you the whole story, will you answer a few questions of mine?"

  "Sure."

  "Really?"

  "However, I reserve the right not to answer."

  He should have known there would be a catch. Perhaps Delaney dreamed of becoming a lawyer. The way her mind worked certainly seemed suited to the profession.

  "Tell you what." Travis took his usual seat. On the hill. In the shade of an old oak tree. He patted the ground, an invitation for Delaney to join him. "I'll finish my story about the jacket and jeans. Then you can tell me about your plans after we graduate next month."

  Delaney sank to the ground, her legs crossed. She wore a t-shirt—a spare Travis always carried with him. Baggy as her everyday d
resses, at least she'd knotted the ends at her waist.

  "What my plans are? Nothing else?"

  "I have a million questions." Travis relaxed on the ground, his hands behind his head. "We'll start with that one."

  Delaney copied him, so they were lying side by side.

  "Okay. You first."

  "The first week in April a few of us went out to Dawson's Pond. The weather had turned warm, around eighty degrees."

  "I remember."

  "I gave Meg Drake a ride."

  "Is she your girlfriend?"

  "She's a girl who's a friend."

  "Semantics."

  "Fact," Travis corrected.

  When Delaney laughed, Travis closed his eyes and recounted the story of what started out as a casual get-together. After too much beer, Meg decided to jump in the pond even though everybody else decided the water was too cold.

  "She managed to take off her clothes. But the second she hit the water, the beer hit her—hard. She tried to kiss me. I held her off. There were tears. And a lot of screaming about God only knows what. Meg ended up going home with Stacy Prescott, I ended up with Meg's clothes."

  "And you still have them."

  "Mm." Travis ran a hand over his face. "Kind of a complicated situation."

  "You take the clothes and hand them back. What's complicated about that?"

  "How much experience do you have dealing with emotional teenage girls?"

  The second the words were out of his mouth, Travis wished them back. Delaney was a loner—whatever the reasons. Through sheer stubbornness, he'd pulled her partially out of the shadows. He looked forward to the time they spent together.

  Snarky comments about her lack of friends was a great way to ruin the progress they had made.

  To Travis' surprise, Delaney didn't take offense.

  "I may not be friends with any teenage girls. But I am one."

  "You aren't like other girls."

  "Thanks a lot," Delaney said with a rueful chuckle.

  "Believe me, I just paid you a huge compliment." Rolling to his side, Travis propped his head on his hand, his gaze on Delaney's relaxed face. "I can talk to you without worrying about the usual crap."

  "You mean you aren't attracted to me?"

  "No. Not that you aren't pretty," he hastened to assure her.