“Between us, yes,” I assure her. “But we need to discuss your past, Karlie.”
“There’s nothing…” Her voice rises an octave. “I don’t have any history.”
I kneel between her knees, staring into her luminous eyes. She’s on the defensive already, her shoulders rigid, her mouth clamped shut. Shit, just what I feared. I squeeze her arm gently. “Do you remember the guy we met in the parking lot at Roper’s the other night?”
She nods. “Of course.”
“I responded to a public intoxication call the other day…”
“And?”
“It was the same guy.”
She throws me a look. “I don’t understand.”
“I checked his ID, Karlie. His name is Steven Byron Augustine. He doesn’t have a son.”
The emotions flashing across her pretty face cripple my mind and heart. Confusion—anger—pain…
“What are you saying, Lucas?”
“Steven Augustine is your father.”
She bristles, her eyes keenly focused on mine. “That’s a lie.”
I expected denial. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Karlie. God help me, I didn’t want to tell you.”
“I don’t believe you. I’m an orphan—a ward of the state of Texas. My parents died in a car accident after I was born. Why would the Johnsons mislead me?”
I suck in a ragged breath. “Didn’t you ever wonder why a precious little baby girl like you never got adopted?”
She grimaces. “Mrs. Johnson said I was sick as a child. No one wanted to take on that responsibility—face potential medical bills.”
“She’s correct, Karlie. You were sick.”
“How do you know that?”
“Your father told me.”
“Don’t call him that!”
“All right.”
“He’s a goddamned liar, an imposter.”
I try to hold her hands, but she snatches them away. “There’s more, baby.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“It’s my responsibility to tell you. Please.”
She fists her hands, shifting uncomfortably. “I can’t do this.”
“You’re strong, baby. The sooner it’s out in the open, the quicker we can deal with it.”
“Fine.”
I share the rest of what I know—minus the part that her foster parents are really her aunt and uncle. Too much information at once will break her spirit. Why they denied their flesh and blood a true home, I don’t know. And I’m still not sure how to manage it.
She’s deathly pale and quiet. I attempt to touch her, but she shakes me off.
“Karlie…”
“Shut up, Lucas.”
“Please, let me help you, comfort you.”
She shakes her head, pushing herself up. “I-I need to get out of here.”
I grip her legs, still kneeling. “You can’t drive in this condition.”
“Condition?” She laughs. “I’m not sick, Lucas. I’m fucking devastated.” She brushes past me, running to her bedroom.
Chapter 29
I hear my alarm clock going off in the distance. I rub my eyes, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. I’m on the couch in the living room and don’t know what time I fell asleep, but I kept vigil outside Karlie’s door for hours. Her loud, violent sobs kept me awake for a long time. I check my watch: it’s early, half past seven. Sitting up, I’m surprised to find her bedroom door ajar. Maybe she’s making breakfast?
I check her room first, then pad into the kitchen. It’s quiet and dark. Next, I search upstairs; not a trace of her. “Karlie?”
Making my way out back, I traverse the grounds—even look inside the RV. When I head to the front yard, I realize her truck is gone. I swallow the lump in my throat. She’s gone. And somehow, it feels like she’ll never come back. I curse, then storm back inside, ransacking her bedroom, searching for a clue. There’s no note and only half her stuff is missing. Clothes, her laptop, cell phone, books, and jewelry box. Things people take when they’re determined to disappear.
I punch the wall, leaving a hole in the sheetrock. “Fuck!”
I can’t let this happen. Where is she? I sit on the edge of her bed, resting my head in my hands. Maybe I should never have told her. No. That would have been dishonest. And if she found out from someone else, especially Steven, my silence would have come back to haunt me. That’s a coward’s way out.
I race upstairs, grab my cell, and call in to work—taking the day off.
I don’t bother changing or brushing my teeth. I grab my wallet and keys from the entryway table and take off, headed to Marie’s.
I screech into her parking lot and race upstairs, banging on her front door. She opens it, staring at me. “What’s wrong, Lucas? Where’s Karlie?”
I don’t answer, but force my way inside, eyeing the small space. Brandon is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee.
“Good morning,” he says. “You look like shit.”
“Where’s Karlie?” It comes out sounding accusatory.
“Not here,” he says. “Why? Is she missing?”
I scrub my face with both hands. In order to get their help, I need to explain. I give them a condensed version.
“Jesus,” Marie says. “No wonder she ran away.”
“What do you need us to do?” Brandon asks, putting his windbreaker on. “Want me to ride with you?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m headed to A&M now, then the beach. I’m sure she’s gone somewhere to think. Is there a special place she hangs out?” I ask Marie.
“N-no.” She appears devastated. “She likes Cole Park and the aquarium, but it’s too early to go there. Karlie is a creature of habit, Lucas. What you see is what you get.”
“I know. That’s why I love her.”
I reach the college in fifteen minutes and drive through every parking lot, one row at a time. I don’t see her vehicle. Next, I search fraternity/sorority row, getting the same result. She’s not here. I pull off Ocean Drive and call Craig; he answers on the first ring.
“What’s up?”
“Karlie is gone.” I fill him in on what transpired between us last night.
“Shit—want me to put out an APB?”
I don’t want anyone at work knowing about this yet. She’s such a private person, and although I want to find her, need to before I can’t fucking breathe anymore, this is something I’ll deal with as the man who loves her—not as a cop. “No, but I’d appreciate you keeping your eyes open today while you’re on patrol.”
“Hell, I’ll take the day off.”
“No,” I say, appreciating the offer. “You’ll cover more ground on duty.”
“All right.” He sighs. “Don’t do anything stupid, Lucas.”
“I just want her back.”
“We’ll find her.”
I hang up.
After checking all the parks on the south side and downtown, I head back to the island. There’s too much ground to cover out here. She has a four-wheel drive and could go anywhere. She could be in Portland, Rockport, or bloody San Antonio. I slam my palms on the steering wheel. I didn’t want to do this, but it’s the only option I have. I drive back to town, determined to talk to Steven Augustine and his cold-hearted sister.
I ring the doorbell three times. A woman wearing a pink robe and matching slippers answers the door. She eyes me head to toe.
“I think you have the wrong address.” She starts to shut the door, but I thrust the tip of my boot in the doorjamb.
“No, I don’t.” I’m close to losing control. “I’m here to discuss your niece, Mrs. Johnson.”
She gasps, placing her hand over her heart. “Steven came home the other day spouting off about meeting Karlie’s fiancé. Are you a cop?”
I flash my badge. “Let me inside.”
She steps aside.
Her home is unremarkable, not too clean, but not filthy. There’s cheap artwork hanging everywhere and pictures of dozens of c
hildren.
“Foster kids?” I query.
“These four are my natural children.” She preens like a goddamned peacock. “The rest, we took in.”
I don’t see a photo of Karlie anywhere. “What about Karlie?” I growl.
Her eyes dart around the room. “We don’t keep one.”
“Why?”
She swallows, hard. “You know the story.”
“And now Karlie knows, too. She disappeared after I told her she had a family.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not good enough. Why didn’t you adopt her? Accept her as family?”
“Just because you’re a cop doesn’t give you the right to bully me. What’s your badge number? I’ll call your sergeant.”
“I am a sergeant.”
Her thin lips form an O.
“Tell me the truth.”
A long moment of silence passes between us before she perches on the edge of her couch. “Steven is my brother—my only sibling,” she starts. “Our parents died when we were young, leaving me to raise my brother. When he fell in love with a junkie fresh out of high school, I wasn’t happy. Karlie’s mother destroyed his life, our lives.”
“I understand your pain and resentment, but how does that keep you from loving Karlie?”
“She sucked the life out of my brother. Week by week I watched him slowly die inside, drifting farther and farther away from reality. The medical bills were unmanageable. And her mother didn’t do anything to help. She was more interested in her next fix than loving her family. Sometimes I wished Karlie would die. But she didn’t.”
Anger stirs inside me. What kind of animal is she? The kind that eats her own young.
“After Steven was arrested, he begged us to adopt Karlie. I refused, but promised to provide a roof over her head on the condition I never had to acknowledge her as family. Try to understand—with every passing day, she reminded me of her mother.”
Thank God I didn’t tell Karlie this bitch was her flesh and blood. At least her father loves her. This shell of a human being makes me sick. “Has she contacted you?”
“No. Why would she?”
“Exactly,” I say. “If she does, don’t tell her who you are. If you do, I won’t be held responsible for what I do. Understand?” Our gazes lock.
She nods.
I approach and she flinches. “This is my card. Call me if she shows up.”
“I will.”
“Now get your brother.”
I spend the next hour discussing everything with Steven, begging him not to pursue Karlie any longer.
“I’m reluctant to agree to anything,” he says. “I want to spend whatever time I have left on this earth making it up to her.”
“She’s incapable of processing all of this right now. She needs time, Mr. Augustine. Once she’s emotionally stable, I’ll gently encourage her to get to know you. But not a minute sooner. Do this for me and I’ll help you get your life on track. I have friends who own construction companies in town. You need a job, right?”
He nods.
“I’ll put in a good word for you.”
“You’d do that for me?”
Through his rough exterior, I see a father who loves his daughter. Right or wrong, blood is blood. “You’re going to be my father-in-law. That makes you family.”
He stands, offering his hand.
I shake it. “Promise you’ll honor my wishes.”
“I will.”
I believe him.
“Can I call occasionally to get updates? I need to know she’s all right.”
I give him my card. “Day or night.”
“Thank you. Please let me know when you find her.”
I drag myself back to my truck, feeling like my whole world is coming undone. When I find her? Doesn’t he mean if?
Please Karlie, come back to me.
—
I haven’t talked to Lucas or Marie in three days. There are texts and numerous voice messages on my cell and emails I simply deleted. I can’t find my voice, although I did contact my professors individually to tell them I had a family crisis. It’s no lie. I do. Out of nowhere I have a father. But he killed my mother. It reads like a bad book or country song at best. I’m the product of a drug addict and a felon. Tears slide down my cheeks and I don’t bother wiping them away. That empty canvas I always envisioned myself as has been forever altered; now it’s striped with black. I liked it better when I didn’t know, when I didn’t have to admit I had a past.
I sit on the pleather couch, taking in my dismal surroundings. For fifty dollars a night, since it’s off-season, I can rent an efficiency condo on North Beach. I dipped into my savings and decided to buy myself some time to think. I gaze at my engagement ring, my future unknown.
Lucas didn’t do anything wrong. Acting out of kindness and responsibility, he shared information about my life and I snapped. This is about self-loathing. All these what-ifs are whirling through my mind. Especially the what-if where Lucas undergoes a new court-ordered background check to get custody of his son and they find out about my father? I can’t keep those two apart. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if Lucas were forced to choose between us.
And what if I’m like my father? Or mother? Do I have an inherent proclivity for violence or drug abuse? God. No wonder the Johnsons emotionally isolated me. At least they never pretended to care. I received what I needed to survive—food, water, clothes, and education. Occasionally a hug if I did something right, but no kisses. No deep admiration like the other kids received. It didn’t take me long to figure out I was different. That’s when I began building that defensive wall inside. Marie was the first to penetrate it, then Connor.
My cell rings; it’s Marie. Without hesitation, I answer. I need to hear her voice—I need her help.
“Karlie?”
“I’m okay.”
She exhales. “Thank God. Everyone is freaking out. Lucas filed a missing person report and from what I hear, even Brandon’s coworkers are looking for you.”
“Bounty hunters?”
“And cops—under the radar, though.”
“Oh my God. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.” I didn’t. Emotions overtook me. “The only thing I could think about was getting away.”
“Where are you? Let me come over.”
“Please don’t ask, Marie.”
“You can’t hide forever. What about Lucas? He’s going crazy, Karlie. Hasn’t eaten in two days. Even Charles is searching for you.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“Yes,” she says. “I’m sorry—I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball, baby girl, but that doesn’t mean you give up. Where’s my determined Karlie? The one who wants to get married and start her own life? That’s the woman you need to be. Not the desolate girl I met in high school. Don’t take three steps back—you’ve fought too hard to get where you are now.”
I sniff into the phone. “I can’t. Living in the same town with that man…”
“Why do you need to make any decisions concerning your father right now? If you choose to never meet again, Lucas will make sure he stays away. He already agreed to stop following you.”
“My father is a murderer.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “According to the law and the State of Texas. He spent twenty years in prison, and if we’re sticking to the law, he’s paid his debt to society.”
“Are you defending him?”
“No. But the circumstances surrounding your mother’s death are different than most. A crime of passion, Karlie. And I refuse to lie to you. Don’t withdraw into some dark place because of something you have no control over. Lucas loves you. I love you. There are a lot of people who care.”
“For Lucas’s sake.” I owe him that much.
“No. Because you make him happy.”
I know she’s right. Lucas is the silver lining, my happily-ever-after; the proof is on my finger. He wa
nts to marry me, not someone else. I make him happy. I make him smile. Not a girl with a perfect life. Me. Karlie Augustine, the girl from nowhere.
“Come home, Karlie.”
“I-I…”
“Come home,” she pleads.
—
I press send for the thirtieth time. Where is she? I throw my cell on the couch, then visit Karlie’s room again. I found her journal in a drawer yesterday. I opened it, reading a couple of paragraphs on the first page. After I realized what it was, I immediately put it away. However, more and more I’m tempted to read it. She’s left me no alternative. What if there’s a clue inside?
Unable to resist, I scan the first few pages, random entries about school. I flip through a few more, finding a page entitled Lucas. My breath hitches; her deepest feelings might be revealed. Do I risk finding out? Yes…
My only love, Lucas Lafontaine…
You tell me I’ve brought you more joy than any woman you’ve ever met. You swear something more powerful than fate, maybe divine intervention, placed you at the track the night Connor attacked me. I’ve never believed in fate, or maybe I just never knew what it was. I cling to my faith because it gives me something to believe in. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t believe in myself.
But a few weeks ago, I noticed the tiniest spark in my heart. Then I began to understand fate—how everything happens for a reason. As early as the morning after we met, I woke up with a smile on my face. Although I didn’t know in the moment where it came from, it was there just the same.
When I turned over in bed, I didn’t cringe at the thought of Connor opening his eyes. He wasn’t there. I was free. Free to think for myself. Free to choose what I’d do with my day. Free from the prevailing anger that had dominated my life for nearly two years.
You did that, Lucas.
You.
And for that—even if we can never be more than we are now—I love you.
I close my eyes. The entry is dated three weeks ago. She fell for me at the same time I fell for her. Our hearts have been in synch all along. “It’s not fate, darlin’, it’s love.”
I put the diary away, ashamed I violated her privacy. But what I read has renewed my hope. She needs time. My phone rings. I run to the couch and answer.
Loving Lucas Page 19
