“Rea.” Dexter paused me with a hand on my shoulder. “If you ever need a place to stay, or just to get away for a while, you are always welcome here.” He made sure I was looking at him before he continued, eyes clear with sincerity. “No matter where you stand with him, you’re always welcome here.”
“Thank you,” I could barely respond. Hot and cold clashed in my stomach, worry and relief mixing.
I didn’t have much time to think about it. The second I stepped out the door, I had to lift the watermelon high above my head as water soaked my shirt. Jace was holding a laughing Felix, helping him pump a water gun at me.
Dexter ran past me and grabbed a super soaker from a nearby child to chase after them.
***
“Do you want some, Regan?” Ms. Lawson held up a glass of dark red wine. “You deserve it after prepping, organizing, and cleaning up today’s festivities.” She tilted her drink towards Leona. “We all do.”
“I can drink to that.” Leona plopped in a chair at the kitchen table, picking up her own glass.
“Sure.” I took a glass from the cabinet, pouring a little wine into it. One drink couldn’t hurt, if anything, it might allow me to actually sleep tonight, to mute the thoughts of Gage running around my brain.
“Maaaa Maaaa,” Felix’s baby cry echoed around the house.
“Dexter’s putting him to bed.” Leona stiffened, waiting for the cry to quiet down.
“Lee, we need you,” Dexter’s voice rose above Felix’s cry.
She downed her glass and then rose to her feet, leaving me alone in the kitchen with Ms. Lawson.
An uncomfortable silence fell over us. The past day had been filled with things to do, helping us to break the awkwardness, but now, all we had was conversation.
“How do you like New York?” She sipped her wine.
“I like it.” I shrugged, then reached for more to say. “I spend most of my time on campus. I’m really enjoying my classes.” It was the truth. After I earned my GED, I was able to enroll at a community college and transfer to the university. I think Gage pulled some strings to get me accepted, but he denies it.
“And what about Gage?” She jumped right into her main concern with a smile, but all I could see was pain under it. “What is he doing? How is he?”
I hadn’t expected the polite talk to end so soon. I took a large drink from my glass, forcing the bitter taste down. I couldn’t meet her eyes. Instead, I focused on the deep purple liquid in the glass. “He seems to like it.”
“The club is doing well? It keeps him busy I guess.” She slid her hand over mine on the table.
Shocked by her touch, I slipped my hand away, tangling it with my other hand in my lap. I looked up at her, sorry that I had reacted so cold. “He stay’s busy.”
“I saw an article about him after his win, that he made appearances at some school programs for kids. I’m glad to see he still has that passion.” She stood, walking to the wine rack by the refrigerator and grabbed another bottle. Undoing the foil, she placed the electric wine opener over the top. The machine hummed as it removed the cork. “He reminds me so much of his father.”
I held my breath, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. I was curious, but wary of this lady.
She brought the bottle to the table, pouring herself a full glass and gesturing to my cup. I flicked my fingers over the top, signaling I didn’t need anymore.
“Did his father, Aaron, work with the community?”
She raised her eyebrow as she took a sip. “Among other things. I’m afraid Gage follows in his father’s footsteps a little too closely.” She set the glass down. “I was so happy when he won the title, I thought maybe…” She shook her head. “That club, how did he come about owning that? Does he have silent partners?”
My stomach twisted, knowing what she was questioning. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you anything about him.”
She quickly spoke up. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I can only imagine what he’s told you about me.” She put her hand up, keeping me from speaking. “But it’s probably all true. I…made a lot of mistakes. I’m trying to fix them now, but he’s not ready to accept that. But really, I just want him to be happy.” She paused to take a sip, and I did too. “You must hate me. Does he talk about me any?”
I choked down my sip and met her eyes. “I don’t hold anything against you, but I’m not going to talk to you about him. It’s up to him what you know.” I also didn’t trust her just yet. She was supposed to be clean, but she had been drinking all day, and I wonder how much that affected her boldness right now.
She ran her finger up and down the stem of her glass. “You’re right. I’m glad he has you.”
It only made me sink deeper. “I think I’m going to go—”
“No, please, stay and talk. It won’t be about him. I’d love to get to know my new daughter a little better.”
I stilled in the chair. Daughter. It sounded strange.
She took a sip and giggled dryly. “You know, Hun, I don’t know anything about you really, except what I read in the news. But,” she shook her head, eyes narrowing, “did you grow up in Maryland?”
“Yeah, in Baltimore mostly.”
“Me too. You know, I don’t even know what your name was before you became a Lawson.”
“Sommers. Regan Sommers.”
“Sommers?” she questioned, a frown pulling on her lips. Finishing off her glass, she reached for the wine bottle to refill it. “You’re not related to Angela Sommers, are you?”
The air was vacuumed out of the room, along with all heat, and I nodded.
“Really? I use to work with her at Indigo’s. We were servers together, good friends, too.” She smiled with the memory, then shook her head. “Shame what happened. How are you two related?”
I finished off my glass, pushing down the lump in my throat. “She was my m-mother.”
Her lips formed a silent O as her eyes widened. “No shit?” Then she slapped her hand across her lips, sealing in her response. She snapped her other fingers a couple of times and then dropped the hand from her mouth. “I should have realized. You look like her, I just didn’t— I didn’t think to put two and two together. Well, huh, that explains how you got involved with my son.” She sat back in her seat, still stunned. “Damn. Just, damn. So…did you—” she put her hand up. “I’m sorry if this comes out rude but, who raised you?” She was already pouring more wine into her glass and I didn’t stop her from topping mine, I couldn’t do anything. “It wasn’t Nikolai, I know that. But Jared maybe?”
“Jared?” I jumped to the new name.
“Well yeah, that was…” She trailed off as she finally looked at me. “Are you all right, hun?”
I shook off her question. “Who’s Jared?”
She looked around the room, possibly for escape, before chugging half her glass. “That was some guy your mother was dating when I first met her.” She waved her hand dismissively with a little laugh. “I thought maybe he was your father, but obviously if you haven’t heard of him, I was wrong.” She put the glass back to her lips and finished it off.
“What was his last name?” I twisted my fingers in my lap, sure they would shake otherwise, but my voice was even and calm.
She licked her red stained lips, setting her glass back on the table with wobbly hands. “Oh, I don’t remember.” Rubbing one hand over her temple in a circle, she cringed. “I think the wines getting to me. Don’t mind me, I’m just running my mouth about things I know nothing of. You would have been born already when I met your mom. He was just someone she was dating, and he didn’t stick around very long once she got the job with me.”
“That’s when she met Nikolai, right? At the restaurant?”
She reached for the bottle, but stopped herself at the mention of Nikolai. I had only questioned about him because she had brought him up earlier. Obviously she knew things, I wanted to find out what.
“I was raised in eight different homes.”
“What?” her ponytail swung as her head shook, but she sank back into the chair.
I took a deep breath, stilling the storm in my stomach. “I wasn’t raised by anyone I knew or that knew Angela. I was in foster care.”
“That’s awful. Well good thing you’ve found my son, you’ve got a family now with us—however crazy we may be.” Her smile seemed genuine, but I waved it away.
“I was saying that so you’d understand. I was asking questions because I don’t know anything about her really or who she was with,” my throat was closing up, but I forced out the words, “or who my father could be.”
“And that makes it even worse that I was just talking.” She leaned closer to me over the table. “Hun, I don’t really know anything. That was a bad time for me and I’m afraid I pulled Angela right into it with me. When I said we were friends, I guess I should have said we were users. We mostly got high together, until she left to go work for Nikolai and I stayed at the restaurant. I really didn’t know her for very long.” Her chest was rising and falling with her heavy breathing and she leaned back in the chair. “I’m sorry. That’s a time that’s hard for me to think about, a time when I completely lost myself, and it took a long time to find my way back to me.” She stood up. “There’s nothing I can tell you anyways, except you don’t want to know any of those people. Gage may remind me of his father, but he’s different. I know he is.” With those cryptic words, she nearly ran from the room.
I replayed the conversation in my head, over and over, but all I knew was that I wanted to find out more about Jared. And more about Gage’s father, Aaron.
***
As the airplane taxied around the runway, I prepared myself to meet Gage. I lined up everything I wanted to say like little soldiers going into battle. He was going to talk, I would make sure of that.
I had entertained the idea of staying with Dexter and not coming home, but I needed answers. I needed to try one last time.
Gage waiting at the luggage return gave me an odd sense of relief, at least he showed up. But he should have never left without me to begin with. The sight of him cracked the dam of my emotions. The pressure of them constricted my heart with an ache that made it hard to breathe.
He took his hat off, rubbing his hand over his hair and then pulled it back on. The small gesture gave me a small comfort; I wasn’t the only one nervous. Good, I had wanted to make him sweat.
Giving me a small smile, he wrapped his arm around me in greeting and kissed the top of my head. A rage simmered inside my veins as we waited in silence for my luggage on the carousel.
He grabbed my suitcase when it appeared and then gestured toward the sliding doors of the airport, out to the parking lot. I followed him to the SUV and he opened the door for me before walking around to his side.
When the car turned on, he turned down the volume, taking quick glances to me as he maneuvered out of the parking space. “I didn’t think you’d actually get on that plane. I thought you would have stayed there.”
“I thought about it.” I looked out the window, away from him. The careless way he said it, made me feel stupid for being here, unwanted.
“I would have deserved it.”
“What do you deserve?” I turned to look at him, emotions boiling to the surface. “What have you done?”
His lips pressed tight, and he watched the traffic as he turned onto the main road. “I don’t deserve you or the patience you’ve shown.” He pulled his glasses off and looked at me. His eyes were bloodshot and tired. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Why?” His words tangled around my heart, pulling at it, hurting it. I strained to talk through the tightness in my throat. But as I thought over what he said, my anger flamed higher. “What are you doing, and why shouldn’t I forgive you? Is it never going to change? Are you not willing to try?” I gripped my stomach—it was churning.
He tightened his hold on the wheel, knuckles turning white, and shook his head without speaking.
His non-response only drove home my worst fears. This talk wouldn’t be us making things better. “Then why did even bother picking me up? You might as well let me out now.”
“Don’t be irrational, you have no where to go.”
That was a punch to the gut. He didn’t care that I’d leave, as long as I had somewhere to go. He really would have been happier if I stayed with Dexter. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can.” He glanced at me with a watery smile. The emotion in it scared me more than anything else. “I wish you didn’t have to.”
I was drowning in my sadness, it bubbled in my chest and choked me. I shook away his words. Whatever was happening didn’t make sense. I needed to stick to my plan and get answers.
“Where have you been?” I questioned.
“The club.” He gave an automatic response. The response he always gave for everything.
“The club, that’s all I ever hear from you. What is going on that takes so much time? That would make you leave your family so suddenly?” Tears burned my eyes and throat.
“It’s complicated.” He pulled his gaze from the road to look at me and shook his head, voice soft. “Just know I’m sorry. I never wanted it to be this way…yet, here we are.” He swallowed, throat moving with the force. “Let’s save this for when we get home. We need to talk.”
All anger drained from me, leaving me empty and cold. It didn’t sound like we’d be having a conversation; it sounded like he’d already made up his mind.
***
I walked into the condo and silently sat on the couch, waiting for him to begin speaking, heart stuck in my throat.
He sat next to me, leaning forward on his knees as he stared at the ground. “I’m sorry. I’ve made so many mistakes in this. I just wanted to keep you.” He looked up at me, red eyes glossy with tears. “I wanted to keep you safe. I wanted to keep you to myself. You were the one good thing I had still, and I thought I could keep it all separate. But this life won’t let me, and I’ve done too much to deserve anything good.” He grabbed my hand, wrapping it in his clammy grasp. “But God I love you. If you don’t believe anything I say, believe that.”
I held my breath, body shaking as I waited for his next words. Words I knew were coming. Words that would kill the life I thought I had. I wanted to stop them—stop him from speaking them.
“But, it’s not fair to you. None of this is. You’ve got this life you’re making, and it’s a good one. You’ve got school, and friends, and your career. I—”
“No.” I pulled my hand from his, tears slick on my face as I shook my head. “You don’t get to say this. You’re what I want, none of the other stuff. You know this. Just talk to me, tell me what’s going—”
“I can’t. Not after what I’ve done. You need to get away, and I have to let you go.”
8: Slipping
THE TREMORS STARTED FROM WITHIN—A SHAKING in my core, an earthquake cracking all my barriers, my foundation. I tried to keep it together, struggling for air at the same time, but even my lungs were trembling beyond my control. I was drowning, held under by him.
Closing my eyes, I couldn’t focus on breathing or calming my muscles. His words slammed through me, adding to the destruction.
“Why?” my voice didn’t sound like my own, it had little air behind it, but the question was shouted in my mind.
“I’ve done too much. You can go back to Dexter’s till something more permanent is arranged. It’ll be better for you this way.” He slid his hand across my shoulders, leaning in close to me.
His touch shattered the thin, already cra
cked shell holding me together. There was nowhere to step without being cut on the shards; nothing to say that would clean it up. The destruction was already done.
I stood suddenly, breaking free of his embrace, stepping back out of reach.
“Don’t. Touch. Me. You’re a liar.” My hand vibrated in front of me as I pointed at him, so I curled it into a fist to pull it back under my control. Anger burned through me, consuming all other emotions. “This isn’t for me. Admit it. You just want to send me away so you can do whatever it is you’re doing. Whatever is so fucking important that it comes above everything else. That’s why you’re doing this. So don’t you dare put this on me.”
He didn’t break eye contact. Staying seated, he looked up at me with his once bright blue eyes now dull and red rimmed, brimming with tears. But he stayed silent.
“Tell me,” I shouted, wanting to slap him into talking.
He dropped his head. Leaning forward on his forearms, he rubbed his hands over the top of his hair. “You’re right.”
I froze. Ice slid through my veins, putting out the heat of anger.
He rolled his head up to look at me. “I have to do things, and I don’t want you around for it.” He shook his head, lines creasing his face. “But I wasn’t lying. This will be better for you. You’ll have a better life.”
“Go to hell.” I had more to say but felt like I was sucker punched in the gut.
He rubbed his hand over his face, and I barely heard his mumbled response, “I’m already there.”
I charged forward and shoved his shoulders. He sat back on the couch, looking at me with his chin raised like he expected me to hit him. I pulled my arms back and crossed them over my stomach to keep from reacting physically, already regretting what I had done.
“You’re not getting away from me that easily.” I took a step back, out of the circle of heat his body put off. “I deserve to know why. Why you’re ending a marriage.”
OtherSide Of Fear (Outside The Ropes #3) Page 6
