All the Way

by Kristi Avalon

  She’d forced herself to forget this other side of their past. Made of stolen moments when she picked up Robby, and other chance encounters. Like the concert they all attended, the three of them together. Then the weeks afterward, when he’d drop by her house unexpectedly and help her with tricky home repairs and Rob with his geometry homework. Then the two months of dating that followed, filled with nights of Chinese take-out, watching movies, reruns on the Discovery Channel of American Chopper , tucked into blankets awaiting the brush of his leg, the feel of his fingers lacing with hers.

  This was the man she’d fallen for not so long ago. And if he kept this up, it would be so easy to slip into their old comfort zone. She could handle him being lusty, possessive, push-all-boundaries Blake. But this open, gentle, come to me when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting Blake caught her unprepared. This change was unexpected.

  She’d never expected to feel this again…this falling . Hard. For him. It required the suspension of everything safe, a blind leap into the unknown of what passion, attraction and caring could be.

  The swing swept high into the air. Without pausing to consider it, she leaped off the swing. A sting skittered along the soles of her feet when she hit the ground in her flip-flops. But it didn’t begin to compare to the strange sensations skittering along her spine and through her abdomen, a combination of excitement, anticipation, uncertainty.

  All this wrapped up in the man she desired more than any other. Blake .

  “What?”

  Her shoulders jumped, hearing his voice behind her. Had she said his name aloud? She turned. “You surprise me sometimes. That’s all.” She squeezed his arm, the first extension of herself she’d made to him since she’d offered herself up to his kiss. But this was different. She smiled up at him. “C’mon, I feel like exploring.”

  “There’s only one way to do that right.” He grinned. Was that a spark of mischief twinkling in those dark green eyes?

  “Okay…”

  “Tag—you’re it.”

  “Hey,” she said to his retreating back as he took off. “There’s no way I’ll catch up to your long legs!”

  But she couldn’t let him win without trying. Racing after him, she followed his lead through the twists and turns of an elaborate jungle gym, up the rope ladder, down the firemen’s pole, up some wooden steps, across a bouncy bridge, down a blue twirling slide that made her hair stand up with static. Her stomach hurt from running and laughing.

  Had she ever had this much fun? Or done something as spontaneous as play tag in a playground at midnight?

  She stopped and smiled, eyeing the broad shoulders of the man who was disappearing into a fluorescent green plastic tunnel with big cut-out polka dots scattered all over it.

  “Aha! Tag, gotcha.”

  “Better run, baby. When I catch up to you, there will be no mercy.”

  She squealed like a girl being chased across the playground by her crush, running like mad yet hoping he’d catch her. She swung across the monkey bars, scaled the tallest ladder, and narrowly slid from Blake’s reach when she zipped down the silver slide.

  Heading for the wood and plastic again, she disappeared in the crazy maze, thinking herself clever when she spotted a day-glow orange plastic tube angled like an enclosed slide. She started down it, only to discover the moon beaming at her from the opening. Reflecting the sky, a huge puddle awaited her.

  “Uh-oh.” She whipped her head up to the opening at the top and saw Blake dive in feet first. “No, wait!” Crunch .

  They got stuck in the middle of the tube, her between his legs, while he flattened his hands on either side of the tunnel to keep from crushing her. “You’re supposed to go down the slide, not crawl up it,” he said. “Basic playground etiquette.”

  “I told you to wait. There’s a huge puddle down there. I’m not getting soaked just to win a game of tag.”

  “I see where your priorities are.” He shook his head, feigning disappointment.

  Licking her lips, she said, “So, um, what do we do now?”

  “I’ll give you a boost up, since you’ve clearly lost your sense of adventure.”

  She threw him a scoffing look. “What’s to complain about? You won.”

  “It’s not always about winning the prize, sweetheart. As long as you’re having a good time.”

  Did he mean that? He was starting to confuse her all over again. This wasn’t Blake at all. Or was it? “Are you having a good time?” she asked.

  His eyes glittered at her. “Best ever.”

  Her features softened. “Me too.”

  Layla realized they were both wearing deeply silly grins on their faces. Clearing her throat, she began to crawl over him toward the opening at the top. When she felt his hands come to her waist to steady her, she paused at his touch. She looked down into his long-lashed green eyes. His face went as still as the night around them.

  She couldn’t seem to move or breathe. There it is again, that falling… It would be so easy to follow that feeling, to dip down and press her mouth to his. He made no move to encourage her or push her away, lying there so still.

  The silence broke when a dark barked in the distance. He let out a sigh. She inhaled. The world swung into motion. She blinked, felt his hands shift at her waist, and she followed their momentum upward. Grasping the edge of the opening, she pulled herself through.

  Moonlight washed the earth in shades of silver. She felt Blake at her back, not touching her but so close she could feel his heat, his gaze, his breath.

  “Come with me,” he whispered.

  She followed him single-file across a narrow bridge, down six log steps, and over the path of pebbles to a double swing. They sat facing each other, rocking gently to and fro as he boot kicked to the side every so often to support their rhythm. Moonlight, starlight and fireflies touched the scene with magic. Sparkles reflected in dewdrops glistening on blades of grass and the delicate threads of spider webs.

  Layla felt at ease inside. She felt completely free to think or say whatever she wished.

  One question popped into her mind. She blurted it out without thinking.

  “Blake, whatever happened between you and Jack?”

  The night froze. Stark silence reigned.

  She panicked, realizing what she’d done. But it was too late to take it back.

  The night seemed to echo with her question like the ripples that follow a stone cast into water. An act that could disrupt the placid surface of their new, tentative emotional bond. It could change everything.

  And whatever the result, it could not be undone.

  When Blake recovered from the shock of her question, his jaw hardened. He tilted his head back to look at the sky. His throat worked hard at swallowing.

  The sky above them seemed to change from starry and romantic to austere and remote. The breeze blew a little colder. The moon shone a little dimmer.

  But Blake knew he had to tell Layla the story.

  Not only to reveal his past to her. Not only to show her another facet of how their experiences paralleled each other’s. But because if he opened up about the past…maybe Layla would too.

  Even if jealousy poisoned his blood so badly it could make him physically ill, he would listen as Layla finally talked about her own past with Johnson. Jack was the one physical obstacle that still stood between them, lurking at the perimeter of whatever future Blake might have with Layla. He refused to lose her to Jack again.

  Blake drew in a lungful of night air, perfumed with the smell of cut grass and the damp scent of dew. Tell her, then show her . His new mantra circled his brain. Like the flashing lights on top of the ambulance when he arrived at the scene of the accident that fateful night. Tell her .

  “Blake, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know what made me blurt that out. You don’t have to talk about it.”

  He inclined his head, letting her know he intended to talk. Fixing his gaze on the stars that seemed so far away, he spoke quietly.


  “The call came just after midnight. My parents had been in a car accident. My brother, Tanner, went directly to the hospital. But I couldn’t stand waiting around helplessly. I called my buddy, Will, an undercover cop who told me the location of the crash. I drove to the scene as the ambulance screamed away. One car waited in the berm. I parked behind it and went up to the officer who’d responded to the call.”

  Layla gasped. “Jack?”

  “Yep.” Blake shifted his gaze from the sky to the nearby field where crickets added their chirping drone to the night air. “With no compassion, he told me my parents were being rushed to the hospital. I wanted details. Jack gave me nothing.” His fists clenched.

  Layla’s pressed her hand to her lips. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” She blinked hard. “I know what a horrible feeling that is. Like your guts have been ripped out through your throat.”

  He closed his eyes briefly, nodded. “Normally, I’d never talk about this. But it’s easier to tell you, because I know you understand.”

  “I do.” The compassion in her gaze, the understanding that came with their shared experience, soothed the old scars inside him. “I wish you’d told me sooner.” She asked softly, “Did you find out what happened?”

  “The middle-aged lady who was the only witness looked almost as miserable as I felt. She said when she got there all she saw was a car taking off. She’d watched Jack let the driver go, just like that. But it was her word against his. Whoever crashed into my parents’ car didn’t pay for his crime.”

  Layla shook her head. Blake could almost see the wheels of her mind churning, gathering momentum toward outrage. “You mean, Jack let him leave the scene of the accident? But he can’t do that!”

  “I thought so, too. Turns out a crooked cop can get away with a lot. Later, a few rumors trickled in that there’d been a BMW weaving along the road. I traced the route and time to a political function earlier that night.”

  “You think some politician paid off Jack to avoid a DUI?”

  “And charges of double-manslaughter.” Blake released his fists, flattening his hands on his thighs. “Mom and Dad never made it to the hospital.”

  Layla’s round eyes filled with disbelief, sorrow, and tears. Blake felt her hand drape over his. “Blake, I’m so sorry.”

  It took effort to just relax and let her reach out to him. Blake murmured, “If Johnson had done his job right and called an ambulance to the scene first, instead of taking a bribe, maybe my parents might still be alive.”

  Her voice came out thinly. “Jack can be such a monster.”

  “Someday I want to see Johnson behind bars. Where he belongs.”

  “Nothing came of it? You never got closure?”

  “Not the way I’d hoped, but there were some decent things that came out of the loss. I learned to appreciate the people in my life, and to live one day at a time. As Tanner can tell you. He went into AA after the accident. He’d been an alcoholic and addict for years, but never recognized it until a drunk driver killed our parents. Their deaths probably saved my brother’s life in the end. He got sober and we created our business the following year.”

  “That’s a very Zen way of looking at things,” she said. “When Kenny died, I wasn’t nearly as benevolent or enlightened. It destroyed our family.”

  “You were also a lot younger,” he reminded her. “At first, Jack’s deception ate me alive. I couldn’t let it go. Then Will told me about this young guy who’d gotten picked up for underage drinking. Will heard he was a good kid, in need of some direction—whose dad had died in a motorcycle accident. Will believed that if I focused on helping someone else, I’d start to heal.” Blake nodded. “That’s how I met Rob.”

  “For which I am eternally grateful,” she murmured.

  “Me too. Because that’s also how I met you.”

  Something soft and beautiful shone in her eyes. Peace settled inside him. Then she cut her gaze, slid her hand away from his. “Blake, when I started seeing Jack, I didn’t realize everything that had happened—”

  “I know that,” he intervened.

  She looked down at her hands. “I guess what I want to say is, I’m sorry.”

  “Are you sorry about being here with me now?”

  “No.” Her features softened into a stunning smile that made his chest expand.

  “Then there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

  “You and me, going on this trip, can’t make up for everything—everyone—we’ve lost.”

  “Nothing can replace them. But when new people come into our lives and surprise us in amazing ways, it reminds us why we put our hearts on our sleeves, why we put our emotions on the line again and again. Because love is worth it.”

  Their gazes met and held. Layla’s face took on a stunning expression. She whispered, “When I’m with you, I start to believe that again.”

  Touched by her honesty, Blake honored the words. “Layla, I don’t think I ever told you this. But my belief returned because of you.”

  This time when her hand returned to his, he turned his palm to her, lacing their fingers together. She didn’t pull away.

  If Blake never kissed her or touched her or held her again, this moment of shared connection might be enough to last him a lifetime. It might need to be, he admitted sadly, since he was about to shake up her world one last time when he introduced her to the world of motorcycle gangs in order to save Rob, and hopefully shake Johnson loose from Layla’s past as well.

  As if she sensed the change in his mood, she scooted to the edge of her seat. Her knees bumped into his. “Want to start heading back?”

  He nodded. “You might want to shake your clothes when you get up. These swings are old. Our swaying made some rust flake off.”

  “Shoot.” She stood, dusting her arms and jeans. Flakes floated like red glitter from her, the bits of aged metal sparkling in the moonlight as they drifted to the ground. “Rust stains are hard to get out.”

  “So are other things when they become embedded in you. That’s why now it’s your turn.”

  Layla blinked down at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Your turn to dig deep and purge the past. Do I have to ask the question, too?”

  She twisted her hands around the chains, her expression wary.

  “Then I will.” He needed to hear her fears, how Johnson had treated her. Though morbid curiosity had rarely interested him, he wanted the whole story, like she’d needed to hear it from him. “Tell me, Layla. What happened between you and Jack Johnson?”

  Chapter 13

  Blake held his breath, braced himself.

  Every nick to his pride and futile hope and jealous frenzy he’d suffered since she’d chosen Jack over him was about to unfold before him large as life. He’d just bought himself a front row ticket to his own personal horror flick. Willingly. Deliberately.

  Eyes blank, Layla looked at him like she hadn’t understood the question.

  Then her features tightened. Her eyes pinched, forehead creased, pupils narrowed despite the darkness. The storm gathered, the same fear he’d seen on her face when he’d come through the door of the motel room.

  And just as quickly the storm of her emotions halted. Her skin smoothed. Her face let go of its tension. But her eyes told a different story, of clouds that darken and filled with the weight of their own rain awaiting release.

  She turned away from him quickly, stepping off the swing. Blake followed.

  They moved together, she the guide, he her shadow, away from the two-story jungle gym toward the parking lot and his motorcycle.

  He was about to say her name, to make her stop and face him, when a flash in the distance caught his eye. By the time his glance darted to its source, it had disappeared. An orange glow pricked the darkness, arced, then vanished. A second later Blake swore he caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. But a breeze came by and snatched the scent. Darkness restored itself along with the dewy smell of night air. Quiet reigned.

 
So Blake kept moving. “Layla.”

  She whirled on him. “What do you want to hear, Blake?” Her voice wavered with unspent emotion when she said his name. “That I made the biggest mistake of my life when I dated him, instead of trying to work things out with you? Well, there. You’ve heard it. Ego all patched up now?”

  He stopped in his tracks, surprised at the heat in her tone. He’d expected anger, denial, the silent treatment, even a refusal. But not resentment. “No,” he said, his chest tightening. “I can’t begin to describe the look of pure terror on your face when you thought I was Jack coming through the door. It’s frozen in my mind. It’s enough to drive me to edge of a death threat if you leave the truth up to my imagination.”

  Silence filled the air between them. Finally she spoke. “It’s not what he’s done. It’s what I know he’s capable of doing.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  “I don’t want to,” he admitted. “But I need to.”

  Layla closed her eyes. When her lashes lifted, she gave a single nod of acceptance, maybe even understanding. “Can we keep walking, though?”

  “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

  He shot a glance at the place where he thought he’d seen the flash in the night. Nothing stirred. So he fell into step alongside her, putting a mandatory lockdown on his emotions. He wanted to be here for her like he hadn’t been the past year. Ready to listen. Because he’d made a huge mistake, too. He’d surrendered her, when he should’ve fought for the one thing he wasn’t willing to lose. He’d gone too easily, when she’d pushed him away. He’d converted disbelief into denial, then bitterness. Too stubborn and self-righteous to believe that Jack could replace him.

  “Layla, tell me what it was like. How you felt. What made you choose him. And then what made you so afraid. Tell me everything.”

  She did. It spilled out like that storm he’d pictured. Though the deluge flooded his body with resistance, frustration, anger at himself and the situation, and though the compelling rain of her words pelted him painfully at times, he clamped his lips shut and just listened.