Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5)

by Jade C. Jamison

  In a flash, Kevin reached the front door and I could barely keep up with him. “Did you want to take any of your stuff with you—the wine, salad, or some spaghetti?”

  “No. It’s all yours. Thanks again for having me.” Half-heartedly, he waved as he walked through the door. In case I’d had any doubts, the fact that he didn’t kiss or even try to hug me was a dead giveaway. There was no meeting tomorrow; there was only immediate discomfort that had to be relieved.

  “Thanks for coming.” As I shut the door, I noticed my breath in the cool night air. Before turning around, I paused, drawing another deep breath into my lungs. I couldn’t stop myself from growing angry.

  Too angry.

  As I walked back to the kitchen, Justin was already amusing the kids with a magic trick involving one of the dice—but he and I needed to talk. “Kids, it’s time to go brush your teeth.”

  “Aw, mom,” my son whined.

  “It’s nine-thirty, Devon. I let you stay up late tonight. But it’s time to get ready for bed now.” Reluctantly, he got up, frowning, and started walking toward the bathroom reluctantly, Sarah right behind him. Goddamn. I needed a cigarette.

  As soon as the kids were out of earshot, I hissed, “What the hell was that about?”

  “What?”

  “Quit the innocent act, Justin. It’s getting old.”

  “Oh, come on, Randi. It was all in fun.”

  “Fun for you, maybe. Confusing for the kids, awkward and embarrassing for me, and downright cruel to Kevin.”

  “That’s what he gets for being a perv on a first date. Fuck him if he can’t take a joke.”

  “Why are you such a dick sometimes?”

  “Rascal, someday you will look back on this and laugh. I promise.”

  “And if I don’t?” I simply glared at him and then found my cigarettes. As soon as the kids were done, I was going outside. In that instant, Sarah and Devon both appeared in the kitchen doorway. I said, “That was awfully quick. How well did you brush your teeth?”

  Devon spoke. “Good. Do you wanna smell my breath?”

  “No, I trust you.” I hugged then kissed him. “Get your pjs on and then get in bed. Sleep tight.”

  “I want Justin to tuck me in.”

  Sarah said, “Me, too.” Holy hell. I was still blown away by Sarah’s response to Justin. Good grief—how had I never before noticed how much my kids adored him? Was it because I’d been immersed in my own emotions for the man?

  “All right, all right.” Justin finally stood. “Just gimme a sec.”

  “Get your pajamas on. Sarah, come here,” I said, giving her a hug and kiss as well. “Sweet dreams, honey.”

  I decided I’d let Justin tuck the kids in bed, but then I was going to read him the riot act and send him on his merry way. Why the fuck had I even told him about Kevin and me? Damn him.

  Grabbing my cigarettes, I went into the utility room by the back door to have at least half a smoke. As I sucked it into my lungs, I felt my pulse slowing—and then I allowed myself to walk through the house to see what was going on with the kids.

  Peeking into Devon’s room, I spotted smooth Justin sitting on the edge of my son’s bed, having located his favorite book. Justin was reading to him and, had I not been so angry with the man, my heart might have swelled at the sight.

  I headed back to the kitchen and put the board game away before cleaning up what was left in the kitchen. That whole time, I could hear Sarah and Justin—and my daughter actually laughed. It sounded like music to my ears, melting the ire in my chest, and I sat down, fighting back tears. When Justin came in, he said, “All tucked in.”

  But I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

  “Don’t tell me you’re still pissed off.”

  “Exactly what do you expect?”

  “Aw, come on, Randi.”

  And then my cell phone rang. Lateness in the evening aside, my blood began boiling again when I saw who it was. “Hello?”

  “This is Chelsea. I wondered if Justin is there.”

  I rolled my eyes. Why hadn’t she called his cell? Not that I cared at the moment. “Yeah. Just a second. I think he was just getting ready to leave.” Unable to stop from scowling, I handed him my phone while mouthing the word, “Girlfriend.”

  While he dealt with her, I took the board game to the living room and put it the closet. Based on how Justin seemed to be growing as angry as I was, I could only imagine what was being said on the other end of the phone.

  And I almost laughed out loud.

  “Goddammit, woman, I don’t have a leash attached to my neck.” He paused, pressing his fingers into the table. “I never said we were doing anything tonight. I already told you Randi and I are friends, and you can’t stop that. You need to get a life. One without me.”

  At that point, I couldn’t help but smile, but I tried to hide my face from Justin—because this was karma in action. I leaned against the table, relishing the moment as he began pacing.

  “Think what you want.” Justin stopped by the fridge, splaying his right hand on the refrigerator. “Whatever. Know what? I’m gonna fuck the shit outta my friend now, so I gotta go. Have a great night, sweetheart.”

  My jaw slackened as I stared at him while he slid his finger over the face of my phone to hang up. Just what I needed—another reason for Chelsea to hate and harass me. “Thanks a lot, Justin.”

  “Not you, too.” The phone rang again.

  “That’s what I mean. Now she’s going to freaking call my phone all night.” I stood up, snatching the phone from Justin and turning the volume as low as it would go. I’d have to figure out how to block this crazy bitch but, for now, I’d settle for silence.

  “Chill out, okay. I don’t need any shit from you.”

  “It’s only fair, friend.”

  After I set the phone down on the table, he grabbed me around the waist, pulling me close. “I wasn’t kidding, you know.”

  I managed to maintain eye contact, licking my lips. “It’s not going to happen.” And I meant it.

  Cocking an eyebrow, Justin continued looking me straight in the eyes. “You know I usually get what I want.”

  “Not tonight. You need to go home.” I didn’t have the strength to push him away and wasn’t even going to try. Instead, I turned my head away, but he started kissing my neck.

  Damn it—he always knew what to do. But I was still so fucking angry. I refused to let him make love to me tonight. “Knock it off, Justin.” Finally, I brought my arms up to his chest and pushed against him half-heartedly—but he continued kissing the tender flesh on my neck. “I said stop it.”

  “I know what you need. And no matter how pissed off I made you,” he said, his left hand moving to the front of my jeans as I realized my body had already betrayed me. Not only was I no longer pushing against him, my hands were now on his shoulders, ready to run through his hair. Had he noticed my resolve melting before I had? “I know you need a good lay. The last time was with that guy.” He slid the zipper on my jeans down. “I can’t even tell you the last time we were together. You know you can’t say no to me, Randi. You’ve never been able to tell me no.” And as his hand made its way underneath my panties, all it took was the gentle touch of his index finger and his tongue in my mouth to make me realize that what he was saying was true. I’d never been able to say no to Justin and mean it. Suddenly, my hands were in his hair and I pressed my open mouth against his neck as an orgasm overtook my brain. I didn’t want to bite him, but I had to stifle my moans lest I disturb my children.

  As I gasped for breath, he pulled both my pants and panties down past my knees before unzipping his own jeans and entering me. My orgasm continued, and as my whole body at last grew weak and limp, I realized he was so right.

  I would never be able to tell him no.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “All right, now you can go.” I was sitting on the floor, my back leaning against the refrigerator. I was dying for another cigarette but wa
s too fatigued to get up.

  Of course, Justin laughed. “Whatever, Rascal.” He was lying on the floor next to me, resting his right hand on his chest. By this point, he’d zipped up his pants but was still breathing hard, his eyes were closed.

  “I mean it.”

  “Christ, you know how to hold a grudge.”

  “I wouldn’t if you weren’t such a jerk.”

  He sat up just enough to pull my arms to bring my upper body on top of his. Although I struggled against him, I was too tired to put up a good fight. Then he grabbed me underneath the arms to pull me the rest of the way so our faces were close to one another. “Ya really think I’m a jerk?”

  “Tonight you were.”

  “Let it go, Randi.”

  I sighed, more upset now with myself than with him, because he knew me well enough to know I couldn’t stay angry with him. Relenting, I pressed my nose to his. “Fine.” Then I rested my head on his chest, letting my eyes drift closed. “So what’s this bullshit about meeting me before we met in class?”

  “Not bullshit. You just don’t remember.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  His chest rose and fell under my cheek before he began talking again. “I had two weeks off in between summer school and the fall semester—right before you started taking classes. I’d never been to Play It Again before and I came to the store—and you were so damn sassy, I demanded you point me in the direction of the porn section just to shock you.”

  I started laughing. “You and a bazillion other guys. Nothing shocking about it.”

  “But you made an impression on me, Rascal.” I lifted my head to look at him, and he had a dreamy smile on his face. “The first night of math class, I was standing in the hall talking to a guy I knew when I saw you out of the corner of my eye walking down the hall. The sunlight was behind you, shining through the doors, and it made a halo around your head. The way your hair bounced while you walked was almost like in slow motion. It made my night to see you walking into the room I was going in, and I made sure I sat right next to you. Over the next few weeks, we got to know each other—and by the second week, you remembered my name.” He opened his eyes to look at me.

  Did I dare ask? “So you intentionally sat by me?”

  A slight smile crossed his face. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I’m a fucking train wreck.”

  “You’re not. Besides, woman, it didn’t take me long to find out you could keep up with me in the wise-cracking department. You were sarcastic and ballsy, besides being a smart ass with a sailor mouth—and that first day I met you at Play It Again, you totally blew me off. You wanna know how many times I get blown off?”

  “Don’t we all?”

  “No. I don’t. Any other woman would have been in my bed that night if I wanted.” I shifted, intrigued but hoping the amusement I felt wasn’t showing in my eyes. “You got my attention. You weren’t susceptible to my usual charms—and I had to have you. So, of course, when you mentioned you were having problems in math class, I offered to help. It was a natural. And you still had to be chased. You weren’t just bowing down to the almighty Justin.” As he started to sit up, I had to adjust, getting off his chest. “And about the time I was content with just being friends, because we somehow connected…that’s when we hooked up, when I just didn’t expect it anymore. You blew me away. I was just happy being around you.”

  Holy shit. Maybe Justin would never in a million years profess anything similar to love—but this was the closest he’d ever get. Or had I pushed him into this corner?

  I didn’t know. Unable to help myself, I stroked his cheek as his eyes told me that maybe he’d said too much. So I simply whispered, “I’m glad you didn’t give up on me.” Then, as if to assure him, I brought my lips to his and we kissed.

  That was when the doorbell rang. Not once, but three times, followed by banging on the door. “What the hell?” I got up quickly, storming through the living room toward the front door. “This had better be good enough to wake my kids up for.” What if it was Kevin ready to fight the man who’d interrupted our date?

  But there was no stopping Justin. He wasn’t far behind me as I opened the door to find Chelsea standing outside, her face mushed up like a puppy not getting attention. I tried to keep my voice to a whisper but I was loud nonetheless. “Are you fucking crazy? You’re going to wake my kids up. What’s your damage?”

  “I want to see Justin. I know he’s here—his truck is right there.” She pointed to the curb where Justin’s truck was parked as if I couldn’t see it.

  “I’ll get him. But I’d appreciate it if you’d use some manners from now on. One doorbell ring is enough. I mean, the lights are on, for Christ’s sake.”

  But there was no getting Justin. He was already beside me. “What the hell’s going on here?”

  I spoke before Chelsea could. “Your girlfriend’s here to pick you up.”

  Justin’s voice was crazy calm. “Did you hear a word I said to you over the phone?”

  Her voice quiet, she said, “Yeah. You said you were gonna fuck her.” Then she stuck out her bony finger, pointing at me as if I were in a lineup.

  “Shit, woman, have you ever heard of a joke? Can’t I hang out with my best friend without having you totally freak out about it?”

  At first, I’d been impressed at his smooth lie—until I realized that it completely dampened everything he’d just said on my kitchen floor. If he really cared, he would have sent this woman packing.

  She asked, “How would you feel if I said that?”

  “If your friend looked like Randi, I’d ask to join you.”

  Without hesitation, Chelsea slapped him with her open palm while I wondered if I could shut the damn door. The air outside was cold and my wet underwear didn’t help. Shivering, I held my arms over my chest, wishing this would be over soon.

  Justin sucked in a deep breath. “You know, this just isn’t gonna work.” Sure, his words had conviction, but he was still a player.

  It just wouldn’t work with Chelsea.

  The young woman practically whined. “I just want to talk to you.”

  “Yeah, let’s talk.” Then, as if he needed my approval, he looked at me. “Call you tomorrow.”

  I gave him a nod but wondered how smart that would be on my part. As they walked down the driveway, Chelsea continued nagging, and I looked around the neighborhood, waiting for porch lights to switch on as people tried to find the source of commotion outdoors. I went inside and finished watching from my front window, hoping they’d hurry up and leave before someone called the cops.

  But they finally left—and, once again, I was alone with my thoughts. The most comical part of that entire debacle was that, no matter how I felt, Justin was no more mine than he was Chelsea’s. The man had never tried to pretend to be something he wasn’t, and he was not a one-woman man.

  As I struggled with drifting off to sleep later that night, I tried not to wonder if Justin was making love to Chelsea, too.

  * * *

  On Tuesday, at Sarah’s appointment, I sat in the waiting room as usual reading for classes—but, about halfway through, the receptionist caught my attention. “Ms. Miller?”

  “Yes?”

  “Dr. Hopkins would like you to see you.”

  I gathered up my things and followed her into the back. I half-expected to find that Sarah had had one of the outbursts she’d been having as of late—but the room was quiet, like a funeral, and my breath caught in my throat as I sat next to my daughter. She hadn’t even looked up at me, instead intently gazing at her pants as if she were solving a difficult math problem.

  Rebecca said, “Sarah has revealed to me the source of her trauma.”

  Maybe the news should have felt like a relief, but it didn’t. Instead, the tension in the room was so thick that I could barely breathe—and now I felt like I could understand why my daughter’s shoulders had been slumped for months. Forcing out words, I asked, “Can you tell me?”
>
  Rebecca laid her notepad on the table. “Sarah asked me to help her tell you about it—and I want to make sure you’re prepared.”

  “Prepared for what, for God’s sake?”

  “I need to preface it by telling you that something highly traumatic has happened to her. Something she’s been afraid to tell you.”

  Oh, God. What the fuck might have happened to my child that she would be afraid to tell me? Had Mike hit her? Had she gotten into drugs or something? I leaned over, lowering my voice. “Honey, you have no reason to be afraid of me.”

  Sarah nodded but still refused to look at me, so I shifted my gaze to Rebecca, my eyes pleading with the woman.

  “It’s nothing you’ve done, Randi, but it is common for children to be apprehensive about telling their parents something of this nature.” After taking a deep breath, she said, “Sarah has been sexually abused.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Oh, my God. Never before had I felt this sensation, one of the earth falling out from underneath me as I plunged headlong into darkness. As if I were on a ship in choppy waves, my stomach lurched while saliva rushed to fill my mouth. Swallowing and trying to get my bearings, I forced words past my teeth. “I don’t understand. What…how?” The question in the back of my head, even more horrific, was who, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

  “It happened over the course of the last school year. Sarah, are you ready to share this with your mom?”

  Although my daughter nodded, she still didn’t look at me. As though my maternal instincts finally got a fucking clue, I wrapped my arm around Sarah’s shoulders, holding her as close as I could without crushing her, and I wondered why the hell I hadn’t realized the severity of her behavior. And I blamed myself. Was it my fault that Sarah hadn’t told me?

  I couldn’t question, though. For now, it was my job to listen.

  Rebecca’s voice, soft and kind, cut through the air. “Sarah, you can begin speaking whenever you’re ready.”

  Although she started talking, she kept her eyes down, so I focused on her hands that appeared to be folded almost daintily—but the knuckles were white. “The, um, beginning of fifth grade, Mr. Buckley seemed nice.”