Allison (A Kane Novel)
Page 40
“You’re suggesting that we simply pick up where we left off?”
“No. I want to start over. From the beginning.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Why not?”
“Mike, we both made mistakes—mostly me, I guess—and for that I’m truly sorry,” I replied. “But after all that’s happened …”
“Please, Ali. We can’t let things end like this.” Mike took my shoulders and turned me to face him. “I wasn’t being completely honest when I said that I’ve missed you. It’s more than that. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I liked you from the first moment we met. It’s hard to describe, but I feel … alive when I’m with you. I love having you in my life, Ali. And I don’t want to lose you.”
My thoughts flashed back to a conversation I’d had with McKenzie earlier that summer. We had been driving to the beach, and McKenzie had been probing my opinions on romance.
“Remember that story you wrote about a blind girl falling in love for the first time? It was so romantic, I cried when I read it. What was the title?”
“I don’t recall.”
“Sure you do. Your main character went through all these changes, only to finally discover what she truly wanted in life was to have someone who really knew her—what food she liked, her taste in music, what side of the bed she slept on, how to make her laugh.”
I glanced down at the bench where I had found Mike waiting. “You never answered my question. How did you know I’d be here?”
“Your secret spot? Actually, I wasn’t sure I would recognize it.” Mike craned his neck, staring up at a giant eucalyptus towering above us. “But when I found a bench beneath the tallest tree in the garden, I knew this had to be it.”
“But how did you know I would come?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does to me,” I replied.
Mike shrugged. “I just knew. I also know that we deserve another chance. Will you give us one?”
Again my thoughts traveled back, this time transporting me to a Thanksgiving Day years earlier, a day on which Nate and I had accompanied Dad to the cemetery where Tom was buried. Though our father had picked that particular time and place to make an announcement of his own, it was there, beside Tom’s grave, that I had finally confessed the secret of my rape. Dad, in his rough way, had tried to reassure me. Sounding the depths of my memory, I could still hear his words.
“When things go bad, really bad, just remember who you are … and hold to it.”
At the time I had considered my father’s advice simplistic and facile. But before the year was out, on the night fire had destroyed our home, his words had returned to me with unexpected force, giving me the courage to face my fears.
Remember who you are … and hold to it.
But who was I?
For the first time since the summer of my rape, I looked deep inside myself, searching a place no one else could go. Some of what I found there I liked: resolve, and humor, and a bold, adventurous spirit—traits I had inherited from my father. Intelligence, nerve, and an uncompromising strength of character, things Mom had given me, were there as well. But there were other things, dark things—things I didn’t want to face. Jealousy. Insecurity. Envy. Spite. And worst of all, a fear of failure that had made it almost impossible for me to open myself to others, a fear that for years had caused me to hide behind a mantle of sarcasm and cynicism and wit. And worse, to my shame, I realized now that following my rape, my resolve never to be weak again had driven a wedge between me and the people I loved.
Remember who you are …
At last I turned to Mike. I found him watching, awaiting my reply. “Lunch at County Line and a hike,” I said. “And then what?”
“I don’t know,” Mike answered. “If you don’t have plans, we could shoot over to my place, throw a couple of steaks on the barbecue, watch a video …”
“A video? Hmmm … I hear there’s an award-winning documentary out that chronicles the history of the Los Angeles River.”
“And it just so happens I have a copy,” Mike said with a tentative smile.
I raised an eyebrow. “And I suppose you’ll want to watch it with the sound off?” I asked, remembering our time together when we first viewed his film.
“Actually, I thought we would just take things one step at a time.”
“A fresh start? Really?”
Mike nodded. “Really. What do you say?”
I stared at the flowing stream below us, hesitating a moment more. Finally I came to a decision. I didn’t know what the future would bring, only that I wanted to be a part of it. There was a big, unpredictable, dangerous, beautiful, cruel, heartbreakingly wonderful world out there to explore … and I intended to, my eyes and mind and heart open for whatever might come, no matter what.
With a growing sense of confidence and an abiding trust in life, I lifted my eyes and met Mike’s gaze. “A new beginning,” I said softy. Still holding his eyes with mine, I answered his question at last. “I would like that, Mike,” I said, meaning it with all my heart. “I would like that a lot.”
Acknowledgements
I would like to express my appreciation to a number of people who provided their assistance and expertise while I was writing Allison. Any errors, exaggerations, or just plain bending of facts to suit the story are attributable to me alone.
To Detective Lee Kingsford (LAPD, retired), I again owe a debt of gratitude. His gift of knowledge and friendship once more proved invaluable during the preparation of the manuscript. To Susan Dunning, my muse with a sharp eye for detail, to friends and family for their encouragement and support, to my editor Karen Oswalt, to Karen Waters for her work on the cover, and especially to my core group of readers—all of whom made critical suggestions for improvements—my sincere thanks.
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About the Author
STEVE GANNON is the author of several bestselling novels including A Song for the Asking, first published by Bantam. Gannon divides his time between Italy and Idaho, living in two of the most beautiful places on earth. In Idaho he serves as the Executive Director of Sun Valley Artist Series, a nonprofit organization devoted to the promotion and encouragement of the art of classical music. In addition to presenting an annual series of classical music performances and educational programs, he spends his days there skiing, hanging out, and writing. In Italy Gannon also continues to write, as well as enjoying the Italian people, food, history, culture, and mangling the Italian language.
To contact Steve Gannon, purchase books, or to join his email list to receive updates on new releases, please visit his website at: http://stevegannonauthor.com
Other STEVE GANNON Books (See Following Pages)
A Song for the Asking
Kane
Glow (2013)
Stepping Stones
Read the bestselling book that started the Kane Novel Series!
To Purchase A Song for the Asking” at Amazon: Click Here
Los Angeles is terrorized by a grisly series of murders. One man can stop the killer: Detective Daniel Kane. But for Kane—devastated by personal tragedy and haunted by a secret that could destroy his family—to do so may cost him everything, including his life …
To purchase Kane at Amazon: Click Here
When Mike Callahan he picks up his daughter for a motorcycle ride up the California coast, he has no idea he is about to embark on a journey that will lead to death, rebirth, and a final chance for salvation … as well as testing the limits of his sanity. And possibly yours …
Glow ~ Coming in 2013!
What do a Las Vegas insomniac, an amateur inventor whose tinkering triggers a war, a boy with a strange and terrible gift, a medical researcher who discovers the secret of eternal life, a beautiful woman in a coma, and a homicidal rock climber all have in common? Rea
d Stepping Stones to find out!
To Purchase Stepping Stones at Amazon: Click Here