by Devney Perry
God, she was beautiful. Her tender heart. Her unwavering strength. I soaked her in, giving myself a moment to swim in those chocolate eyes.
My hand lifted, my fingertips desperate to trace the soft line of her jaw, when little feet pounded at our backs.
“Mom!”
She jerked, dropping her gaze. Then she inched away, as far as she could toward the nightstand, and cleared her throat. “In here.”
“Can we go now?” August begged.
“Yeah.” I took a step away from his mother. “We’d better go.”
They’d better go.
For the first time since Clara had surprised me with the Cadillac, I was ready to send her back to Arizona.
Maybe if she was five hundred miles away, I’d actually be able to resist her.
Chapter Fourteen
Karson
“How do you feel?” Clara asked as we drove away from the junkyard.
“Lighter. You?”
“Free.”
Free. Not quite. But almost.
I wouldn’t be free until I could let Clara go.
But for the moment, I was content.
We’d put the top down to get some fresh air. I drew in a long breath, holding it in my lungs. In the back of my mind, I heard the click of a door. The turn of a page.
A chapter had ended, and it was time to move on.
August was in his seat, playing with some metal rings he’d found at Lou’s and had asked to keep. Beside him was the box that contained Lou’s letters and whatever items he’d stored beneath.
Clara and I hadn’t spent time looking through them. Gus had been antsy to get out of there and since he’d been such a trooper all morning, we’d locked everything up and left.
“Think you’ll come back here in twenty years?” Clara asked as we rolled down the road and put the junkyard in the rearview. “See what it’s like?”
“Maybe. You?”
She shook her head. “Probably not. I’m glad I got to see it again. I feel like that door is closed now.”
“I was just thinking the same damn thing.”
“It’s a good reminder of how far we’ve come and why I’m working so hard to make sure August never has that sort of life.”
“You’re a good mom, Clara.”
“That’s the best compliment you’ve ever given me.”
“Ever? What about the time I told you that you were the prettiest girl in the universe?”
“That was because you were a shameless flirt.”
“With you?”
“Always,” we said in unison.
Clara closed her eyes, scrunching up her nose.
I cringed.
Back to awkward then. Because I couldn’t seem to help myself.
Why couldn’t I just see her as my friend? Completely platonic. Why? The answer was buried deep and at the moment, I was not going to acknowledge it. I couldn’t acknowledge it.
The trip to the junkyard had been another distraction to shove it all away, but now that the meeting was over, the nagging guilt came rushing back.
“Sorry.” I ran a palm over my chin.
Maybe it was time to shave. Holly would hate it. She loved the beard. Did Clara? It doesn’t matter, asshole. She’s not your girlfriend.
“I’d better get some gas,” I said, needing a task and a moment to pull my shit together. We were in the middle of town and I stopped at the next station. When I pulled in beside the pump, I got out and stayed out, hovering beside the tank, letting the guzzling sound from the nozzle block out Clara’s muted conversation with Gus.
One more night.
I’d swim with August this afternoon. We’d have a nice dinner. Then tomorrow I’d take Clara to the airport and put this behind me. For good.
Holly deserved better.
And fuck, so did Clara. She needed to find a man who was free.
The tank was nearly full when a door opened and Clara stepped out of the Cadillac, her wallet in hand. “August earned a treat for being so good this morning. Want anything?”
“Nah. Thanks.”
She gave me a small smile and turned, but instead of walking across the lot, she froze. Her entire body turned to stone.
“Clara.”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she stared forward at the convenience store where an older man had just come out the door with a plastic sack in his hand.
Abandoning the gas pump, I rounded the trunk and went to her side. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
She gulped and nodded at the man. “That’s him.”
The man had thinning brown hair and a splotchy pallor to his face. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips. His frame was thin beneath his shirt, the bones of his shoulders trying to cut through the cotton.
When he glanced our way and those beady eyes narrowed on Clara, her body flinched.
“Your uncle,” I guessed.
I hadn’t seen the guy before, not that I’d needed to. There wasn’t a person on earth who was likely to get this reaction from Clara. And Gemma had seen him once, ages ago, and the way she’d described him fit this man perfectly. A total fucking creep. That hadn’t changed.
And the rage I’d felt toward that man hadn’t dulled either.
My fists balled at my sides. When Clara had told me about her uncle, I’d wanted to kill the bastard. The anger was still there, an inferno churning in my veins. Hungry for a victim.
I took a step forward, ready to walk over and make that son of a bitch pay for all that he’d done to them, but before I could take my second step, Clara’s hand slipped into mine.
She clutched it, not holding me back, just holding on.
Her gaze was still glued to him as he stared back. She kept her shoulders straight, her chin held high. She didn’t cower. And the glare she sent him was nothing short of murderous.
A swell of pride mixed with my rage. Good for her. Damn, but she was strong.
It took a moment, but he recognized her. His bony frame tensed. He gave her a sideways look, and then he was gone, scurrying to his nineties-model Honda Civic, the tires squealing as he raced out of the station’s lot.
And Clara just held on, staring at the spot where he’d been.
“He tried but he didn’t ruin us,” she whispered.
“No, he didn’t.”
“He knew who I was.”
“Yes, he did.”
“We were scared of him as kids. We knew it was wrong but not how to fix it. We should have turned him in.”
“You still can. You have the power here, Clara.”
Her head tilted to the side. “You’re right. We should have. I didn’t get that as a kid but we’re not those scared girls anymore. And we’ve been ignoring it, burying it. He deserves to pay. To be registered as a sex offender at least. When we get home, I’ll talk to Aria. We’ll do what we can and then never think of him again.”
“Good for you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Then she closed her eyes and finally, her shoulders sagged. “I really hoped that he was dead.”
“Me too.” Without hesitating, I spun her toward me and hauled her into a hug, wrapping her in my arms and feeling her cheek press against my heart.
Clara snaked her hands around me, and as tightly as I held her, she clung to me.
“I’m sorry,” I said into her hair.
“They should have made a better plan. My parents. They let us down.”
I stayed quiet. My hatred was aimed at her uncle, but there was resentment for her parents too. Resentment I hadn’t understood as a teenager. Her mom and dad had let their daughters down by not having a better plan in case of their deaths.
Clara and Aria never should have been given to their uncle.
“What can I do?” I asked.
“You’re doing it.” She relaxed, giving me her weight.
The scent of orange and vanilla filled my nose as I rested my chin on her head. Having her in my embrace felt so familiar. So . .
. right.
I should let her go. Let her go.
I didn’t move.
“Do you still hug everyone goodbye?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then why not me?” I remembered that so clearly from our time at the junkyard. Whether it had been in town when she’d go one way and I’d go the other, or even when she caught me at the junkyard before I’d leave for the day. Every goodbye had come with a hug. Most hellos too.
Until now. Last night, there’d been no hug.
Not once since she’d come to Elyria had she touched me.
Clara loosened her grip on me and slid her arms free. Then, too soon, she was gone and there was a gulf between us.
I’d asked the question.
But she didn’t answer.
We both knew the answer would only make this worse.
“I’d better get August his treat.” She pointed to the store, but the crease between her eyebrows told me she didn’t want to go inside.
“What does he want? I’ll grab it.”
She opened her wallet, but I waved it off. “I’ve got it. I’m going to get some water too.”
“Skittles or Swedish Fish or Starbursts or Twizzlers. He loves fruity candy.”
“Got it.” Then I got the hell away.
Fuck. Maybe we should say our goodbyes tonight and I should go home. That would be the smart thing to do. Call it over and done with.
Instead, I bought August’s candy and listened to him tell me about which color combinations of Skittles were the best as we drove to the hotel. Then we went swimming for a few hours while Clara looked on from a lounge chair.
Entertainment at dinner was once again provided by the five-year-old, and when we returned to the hotel, I had this sinking feeling that I wasn’t going to see him again. In just a few days, August had made a lasting impression.
I’d miss dinners without a nonstop stream of interesting facts that he learned at school. I’d miss the excitement that seemed to pour from every word.
But if I couldn’t control these feelings about Clara, then I had to cut off contact. I’d done it for twelve years, so what was a lifetime more?
No Clara meant no Gus. I’d miss out on seeing him as a teenager. A young man. An adult. There was a twinge in my chest as he pushed the elevator button. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his smile and his small hands and the slight waves in his dark-blond hair.
Was this why Clara was always looking to him? Because she knew how fast he would change?
My throat was dry as we stepped into the elevator and rode to our floor. As Gus raced down the hallway toward the room, my steps dragged like I was wearing lead-filled shoes.
Clara’s steps seemed even shorter and heavier than mine.
This was goodbye. There was the trip to the airport in the morning, but that would be full of logistics, baggage and a rushed farewell.
“Can we rent a movie?” August asked, standing beside their door.
“Sure.” Clara nodded.
“Want to watch with us?” he asked me.
I opened my mouth to let him down gently, but then Clara answered for me. “Yeah. Watch with us.”
“Okay.” Reckless, but that was my defining trait this week.
So we went inside her room, the three of us settling on the couch in the common room in her suite, with August in the middle, and rented a movie.
Gus fell asleep halfway through the musical cartoon.
“This is more excitement than he’s used to,” Clara said, turning down the volume on the TV.
“He’s such a great kid. Maybe the best I’ve ever met.”
She smiled down at him as he slumped into her side. “He’s pretty fantastic, isn’t he?”
“I have to tell you something,” I said. “Probably should have admitted it sooner.”
“What?”
“I looked you up on Facebook.”
Her eyes widened. “You did? When?”
“About six years ago. I was curious. Temptation got the better of me and I wanted to know that you were okay. You didn’t have much posted but a few pictures. I saw one of you and him together. You looked happy. In love. It was hard to see.”
So I hadn’t looked her up again. Clara or Londyn or Gemma or Katherine. I’d taken it as a sign to move forward. Easier said than done.
“I assume the guy was Gus’s father. What happened?”
She sighed. “About what I said last night. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I know it put you in an uncomfortable position with Holly and . . . I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” If only she knew the real reason that I was uncomfortable had nothing to do with her words, but the words I wanted to say back.
“I met Devan in Las Vegas.” She stared at the TV as she spoke. “I’d been living there for years and work was mostly my life. It was rare that I did anything exciting, but one weekend some friends dragged me to a nightclub. That’s where I met him.”
Green crept under my skin but I stayed expressionless, listening. “How long were you together?”
“About a year. I should have ended it long before that. But Devan had his moments when he was wonderful and funny and loving. Whatever pictures you saw were probably from those times. But the longer we were together, the more I realized that those good moments were only because he knew I was about to call it off. Then he’d charm me, and I’d fall for it. I’d forget that he was a narcissist, and I was only a beautiful decoration in a world that revolved around him.”
How could anyone in Clara’s presence not want to fall into her orbit? This guy Devan must have been blind.
“I got pregnant. Obviously. It hadn’t been planned, but he accused me of doing it on purpose even though I’d been on birth control.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugged. “A baby meant Devan wouldn’t be the center of attention. To this day, I don’t know if he ever believed that it was an accident. We’d fight about it. I’d tell him we were done. He’d apologize and we’d be good for a week. Until we weren’t. It was this sick, unhealthy cycle, but I didn’t want to let him go. Not for me, but for August. I was sure that if I could just get Devan through the pregnancy, he’d meet our son and realize that love wasn’t a competition. That there was enough for him and a baby.”
“Did he?”
“No.” She tore her eyes away from the wall, dropping them to August. “By my third trimester, he was already checked out. I suspected he’d already found another woman who’d worship him. I was an afterthought by then. When August was a newborn, I told him we were done. He didn’t argue.”
“Has he been involved at all?”
“No. Devan was never going to change. He was never going to make a good father. I didn’t want to put August through any disappointment when Devan made a promise he couldn’t keep. So I gave him an out. I wouldn’t ask for any money or support if he signed over all of his parental rights. Ask me if he put up a fight.”
Of course he hadn’t, the dumb son of a bitch. “I’m sorry you went through all that alone.”
“Don’t be. I had Aria. And Brody. Not long after that, Brody told me he was moving to Welcome, Arizona, and asked if I wanted to come along. A new town. A fresh start. It was a no-brainer.”
Had Brody always planned on offering Clara the opportunity in Arizona? Or had he offered after the fallout with Devan? I had a feeling I wasn’t the only man who did what he could to protect her.
Regardless, Clara and Aria were good allies to have in your corner. Brody was a lucky man to have them both.
Clara blew out a long breath. “After I broke it off with Devan, I’d go through these days when I was so mad at myself for not seeing through his façade. He was . . . attractive. I’m not proud to say that I let his looks cloud my judgment. But when August was a baby, one day I just stopped being mad. At myself. At Devan. I got the best part of him and he was too self-absorbed to realize that when I left Vegas, I took that piece with me.”
“I l
ike the name August.”
She gave me a sad smile. “That was my dad’s name. Did I ever tell you that?”
“No.”
“If I’d had a girl, I would have named her after Mom. Hopefully Aria will have another baby one day and if it’s a girl, she can take that name. Millie. That was her name.”
“Pretty name.”
“I like it too.” She shifted, turning slightly sideways on the couch so August’s head rested in her lap.
The muted light from the TV cast a light glow over the room. They caught the gold flecks in her gaze, making them dance.
How could he have let her go?
How could I have let her go?
Two stupid men.
“I should have come to you anyway. Despite the Facebook pictures. I assumed you were happy and had moved on, but I should have come to find you.”
“Except then I wouldn’t have August.” She gave me a sad smile. “Timing was never on our side, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t.” If I had looked her up a year later, after Devan had been out of the picture, or if she had come here a year earlier, before Holly . . .
Or if at nineteen, I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my mother’s words.
You’re a piece of shit, Karson. You’re worthless.
Get out of my sight. I hate you. I hate looking at you.
You are nothing. A disgrace. You’re a fuckup.
“My mom died,” I blurted.
Clara tensed. “When?”
“Not long before I moved to Elyria. After she died, I wanted to get out of Temecula for good.”
“Is that why you came back here? When Gemma hired the PI the first time, he’d said you were here. That always seemed so crazy to me. I figured you’d be long gone like the rest of us.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I got a call one day when I was living in San Diego the second time from a police officer here in Temecula. Mom had been in a car accident and was in a coma.”
“Karson, I’m so sorry.”
“Should I tell you this? It might be hard to hear.”
“Drunk driver?” she guessed. Her own parents had been killed by a drunk driver, and the last thing I wanted was to cause her any pain.
