Lead Me On

by Victoria Dahl

  “Sure, it’s totally inconsequential, but humor me.”

  She loved him. She did. Even the things holding her back made her heart speed with sheer joy. His calloused hands and dusty shirts. His muddy boots and inked skin. And his frickin’ hair was turning her on like crazy. “You should hate me for the way I’ve treated you.”

  He shrugged. “I’m pretty tough.”

  “I’m scared. I don’t think I can do this.”

  “You changed your whole life when you were sixteen years old. You really think you can’t change your dating habits at thirty?”

  “Twenty-nine,” she muttered.

  He winked. “I know.”

  Her hands shook against the cup. “If I love you, I’ll have to be me for the rest of my life. Really me.”

  “Don’t you think it’s about time?”

  “Oh, God,” she breathed. Be herself? Her real self? “Maybe. Maybe I’d like to try.”

  Chase smiled, not looking nearly as surprised as she’d expected.

  “Can you give me a couple more days? You were right. I need to work a few things out first.”

  “Sure. I can get by that long.”

  She picked up her purse, a red-hot mix of hope and terror swirling through her chest.

  “But…” Chase stopped her with a hand around her wrist as she stood. “I’m gonna let my hair grow out next week, so you’d better make up your mind.”

  Her eyes flew to his tattooed skull. Jane licked her lips.

  “You’re going to miss your chance, darlin’.”

  He knew. He knew she wanted to nibble her way all the way up, wanted to lick him, wanted to look down and see that tattooed head between her thighs…God, he was so arrogant.

  He pulled her hand toward his mouth and slowly lowered his lips to her wrist.

  “Chase,” she whispered.

  His smile was pressed to her skin. “You didn’t look around that time, Jane. What if people are watching?”

  She shook her head, too consumed with the shivers spreading up her arms from the feel of his breath on her pulse.

  “You want to touch it?”

  Jane pulled her hand away, afraid that she’d start to pet him and things would get out of control. “I’ll be in touch. Soon.”

  “Okay.”

  She didn’t want to go, but if she stayed, she’d be hypnotized by his blue eyes and wide smiles. She took a step. Then another.

  “Jane?” he called when she was only one table away.

  She turned back.

  “I’ve got a degree in geology, so you can use me for my educational achievements anytime.”

  “What?”

  “Do you think they hand out dynamite to any firebug with fuse and a prayer?”

  “I…”

  “Want me to have it tattooed on my other arm? ‘College educated with love and Jane Morgan approved’?”

  She gaped at him in utter shock.

  “Ha! You’re such a snob. They let guys with tattoos into college, too. I’ll call you later to find out how you’re doing, Miss Jane.” And with a wink, he turned his attention back to his food.

  Jane stood there in the middle of the restaurant, watching him eat bacon. When she finally recovered enough to think, she glanced around. Sure enough, the people at the nearby tables were staring at her, most of them with knowing smiles. She looked back to Chase sitting there, muscles bulging in his T-shirt, black tattoos glowing dark against his skin, looking like a damned punk-rock criminal.

  Then she caught the smiling eye of a woman at the next table, and Jane’s fear seemed like a pitiful thing. Something easily ignored. She found herself suddenly smiling back.

  That man—that big, gorgeous, scary-looking man—would be Jane’s if she had the courage to claim him. He could belong to her. And it had nothing to do with his degree. None of these people knew about that, but Jane felt proud all the same.

  As she walked out, the tiny little kernel of bravery she’d hidden beneath layers of fear began to burn and grow. If she wanted a chance to lick that man’s tattoo again, she was going to have to find a way to resuscitate her courage completely. She was going to have to set aside decades of guilt and shame and anxiety and learn to live.

  It seemed an insurmountable task, but Billy Chase’s skull might be the only motivation in the world strong enough to help her overcome her terror. Maybe there was hope for her after all.

  TWENTY-FOUR HOURS AFTER her first visit to her mom’s house, Jane was back on her parents’ couch. She’d come to face her demons, but the battle was less than dramatic. Her mom was out getting groceries and Mac was working, so Jane sat alone on the couch, clutching the photo album so hard that her knuckles began to ache. The sound of revving power tools echoed through the open window from the direction of Mac’s shop. A motorcycle roared past the house before it slowed and turned into the shop drive.

  All familiar sounds.

  For a while after she’d stopped sleeping around, Jane hadn’t been able to go to the shop to see Mac. Too many times his customer would be some biker she’d hooked up with at one of the bars. Too many times she’d had to hurry out and hope Mac hadn’t noticed the knowing gleam in the man’s eyes.

  When she thought about it now, she couldn’t quite believe she’d escaped that life so safely. She’d gotten a second chance, and she’d clutched at it with desperation.

  Jane looked back to the picture she’d been staring at for the past fifteen minutes. Most of the photos were posed family shots, but this one had been taken when she wasn’t paying attention. Instead of staring boldly at the camera with a smirk or a pout, she was sitting on the hood of Mac’s old truck, looking into the distance. Her knees were tucked up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs. Without the camouflage of a defiant glare, she looked very young. And sad. And lost. She looked like a girl grown men should have gone to jail for touching.

  She traced a finger around the edge of the photo. Chase was right. She’d been a kid. And if she saw this young girl hanging around Ryders today, Jane would feel sorry for her. She’d think this was a girl who needed help, not a girl who could never be forgiven.

  If I forgive my mother, I’ll have to forgive myself.

  The motorcycle started again, a roar that would’ve carried through the window even if it hadn’t been open.

  Jane could hang out in Mac’s shop with him now if she wanted to. No one would recognize her even if they knew about Dynasty’s new name. But it was a catch-22. If she wanted to remain separated from her past, she couldn’t hang out with her stepfather. She couldn’t be Mac’s daughter. She couldn’t be Jessie’s sister. She couldn’t be herself or she had to be Dynasty, too.

  The hinges of the front door squealed. “Jane?” her mom called.

  “I’m in here!”

  “Mac said you were waiting for me.” She walked in with two shopping bags clutched in each hand.

  “Let me help,” Jane offered, jumping up to grab a bag.

  “Thanks, sweetie.”

  She helped her mom put the groceries away, surprised that she remembered the exact spot for each item.

  “Jessie called me,” her mom said. “Did you hear they’re charging that locksmith already? Jessie’s so relieved they caught the guy. He was worried about you living alone. We all were.”

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve been acting a little odd. Is everything okay?”

  Jane stared into the cupboard, hand frozen on a box of cereal. The same kind of cereal Mac had eaten twenty years before. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “Sorry for what, baby?”

  She couldn’t move, couldn’t face her own mother. “I’m sorry for the kind of person I’ve been.”

  “What?”

  “And I’m sorry I’ve been so awful to you.”

  “Honey, you haven’t been awful to me.”

  Jane couldn’t just stand there with her hand on a box of cereal for five minutes. She finally closed the cupboard
and turned to meet her mom’s troubled eyes. “I’ve been mad at you since I was twelve, and I’ve stayed away so I wouldn’t have to think about it, but you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, you’ve been busy with your own life, baby. It’s okay.”

  “No, Mom. Don’t make excuses for me. I live twenty minutes away. I haven’t been that busy.”

  Her mom looked down before giving a small nod.

  “I’m trying to make some changes, but first I wanted you to know that I thought I was mad at you, but mostly I was mad at myself. It was easier to resent you than it was to admit the truth. That I hated myself.”

  “Oh, Jane,” her mom said, reaching out to pull her into her arms. “Don’t say that. You’re so smart and pretty and strong.”

  “It’s okay.” Her throat burned, but her eyes were dry. It felt good to admit it. “I hated myself, but I think I’m going to give up on that, too. I was just a kid. Teenagers do dumb things. It’s part of the job description.”

  “What do you mean? What happened?”

  Jane shook her head. If her mom wanted to pretend she hadn’t known anything, then Jane would let her have that. “Just growing pains, Mom. It doesn’t matter now.” She tightened her arms. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. But you know that. We always had each other, didn’t we?”

  That much was true. It wasn’t as if her mom had been out on the town with a new boyfriend every week. She’d worked and spent time with Jane and that had been it.

  Her mom stepped back, taking hold of Jane’s hand to pull her toward the kitchen table. “You are so much smarter than I ever was. So much more determined. Do you know why I married your father?”

  Jane held her breath for a moment, trying to calm her galloping heart. “No.”

  “My stepdaddy…You never met him, but he wasn’t a nice person. He beat my mom when he was drunk. Screwed around on her when he wasn’t. And sometimes…sometimes he paid too much attention to me, if you know what I mean.”

  She squeezed her mom’s fingers in answer.

  “I didn’t trust men. I liked them, but they made me nervous. I never knew what to expect from them. Like your dad…I knew him before he was sent away. He was reckless and arrogant, but charming as hell. We went out once, but he had lots of girlfriends. I knew he’d never settle for me. I was too…small, I guess.

  “But when he was arrested, I wrote to him. I figured he could use a friendly word. And he wrote back, Jane. He wrote me so many letters. He said he loved me. Asked me to marry him. I guess he figured I was small enough that I’d marry a man who was about to be sent to prison for twenty years. And I was. I was scared of men, but I so wanted someone to love, and this wild and handsome man had chosen me.”

  “So you married him,” Jane said past a tight throat, fighting against the sad need she could hear in her mom’s words. Jane knew how it felt to feel worthless and still want to be loved.

  “I married him. And I got you out of the deal, and I was so happy. But your dad started getting mad that I wasn’t writing as often, and I made too many excuses not to come visit. I got tired of the arguments. The woman next door was married to an inmate, too, and she had a brother in a Texas prison, so I started writing to him. I don’t know what I was looking for, but I kept on looking.”

  Jane nodded.

  “And then I met Mac and you know what happened after that.”

  “Why’d you stay with Mac? After he got out, I mean. I kept expecting that one day he’d go to work and we’d just pack up and leave.” Her mom frowned, and Jane saw wrinkles she’d never noticed before.

  “Did you want to?”

  “At first, yeah. There’d never been a man around. I was scared of him.”

  Her mom laughed, but it turned into a tiny sob and she pressed her fingers to her mouth. A few tears leaked from her eyes even when she managed a smile. “I was, too. I was so shocked at first, I didn’t know what to do. I told myself, the moment he lays his fist on me, we’re out of here. When that didn’t happen, I told myself I’d leave if he said one mean word to you. But he didn’t. He was just like his letters—thoughtful and fair. And sometime later I realized I felt safe with him, even though he wasn’t behind bars anymore.”

  She shook her head, sniffing back the last of her tears, and she managed a watery laugh. “I don’t know what would’ve happened to us without Mac. But I…I’m sorry for everything that happened before him, baby doll. I thought I was keeping you safe, living without a man in the house. I thought that was best for you, but…I guess I just didn’t understand.”

  “You did your best,” Jane whispered, finally believing it.

  “I did, but my best was nothing compared to yours. I’m so proud of you.”

  They hugged and cried a little more before Jane walked over to the shop to watch Mac work. It had been one of her favorite hobbies before she’d turned into a sullen youth, and it was the perfect place to find the strength she needed before her next stop.

  CHASE FINISHED WASHING the last of his dad’s dishes, then took a very long time to dry his hands. When he turned around, he’d be faced with the sight of his father shaking on the couch.

  Chase felt stupid now for imagining they would have a nice Sunday dinner together. But this afternoon when his dad had asked him to come over, for the first time it hadn’t sounded like a request for alcohol. In fact, it hadn’t been. His dad had been trying to quit cold turkey, but by the time six o’clock had rolled around, the tremors had started. Now he sat with an open beer, the contents dribbling out when a bad tremor hit.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, eyes falling away from Chase’s gaze.

  “You can’t do this on your own, Dad.”

  “I’m not giving it up to a higher power!” he snapped. “It’s not a disease. It’s a defect.”

  “All right. Fine. Call it whatever you want.” Chase opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of brochures. “There are other programs besides AA. You don’t have to do it that way if you don’t want to.” He put the brochures on the coffee table, but his dad just eyed them as if they were contaminated with nuclear waste.

  “Will you think about it?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “You helped to catch a killer, Dad. You could still do something with your life. It doesn’t have to be like this forever.”

  When Chase’s phone beeped, he pulled it from his pocket with a hard stab of relief. That relief swelled to happiness when he saw there was a text from Jane.

  Where are you?

  Chase nearly fumbled the phone as he slid open the keyboard. At my dad’s.

  Can I come over?

  Chase snuck a glance at his father leaning down to grab one of the unopened cans of beer at his feet. The shaking was subsiding, but his pants were covered with damp splotches of beer.

  Meet me outside?

  Now he was the one hiding his family. Great.

  Her car pulled up five minutes later and Chase rushed outside, a smile tugging at his mouth before she even got out of the car. “That was fast.”

  “I was at my mom’s.”

  “Oh?”

  She shrugged and stopped ten feet away from him.

  This was it, he thought, tension winding through his muscles.

  She glanced toward the west, where the sun was beginning to sink behind ragged peaks of snow-covered mountains. She tilted her head toward his truck. “Want to sit with me?”

  “Sure.” He thought she’d meant in the cab, but Jane boosted herself onto the hood and settled against the windshield. Chase raised an eyebrow.

  “I like it up here. And the sun’s setting.”

  “Okay.” He scooted up next to her, still teetering on the brink of uncertainty. Serious talks could end in many different ways.

  Jane took a deep breath. “I love you,” she said simply.

  Chase waited. He steeled his heart against her words. She’d said it, but she was fully capable of following that up with a but… />
  She turned to him and took his hand, a nervous smile playing over her mouth. “I love you.”

  “And?”

  Her gaze fluttered over his face, and she gave a breathless little laugh. “I love you and I want to be your special gal. If you’re up for that.”

  He was squeezing her hand too tight, but when he tried to relax his fingers, he realized it was her squeezing him. “In public?”

  “Yes.”

  Unwilling to be happy just yet, despite the shout that wanted to rise in his throat, Chase narrowed his eyes at her. “Why?”

  “Because I love you. And you know me. And I’m ready. I thought I’d left that girl I hated far behind, but really…really I’ve been sinking deeper into her this whole time. I’ve been a child, hiding from everything that scared me. I’m ready to grow up. I want to not be scared anymore.”

  He nodded. “Good. I’m glad. But I don’t want you to use me anymore. I don’t want to be your therapy, Jane.”

  Her free hand rose to touch his face, the palm pressing into his skin. Despite his brave words, there was no force in the world that could have stopped him from closing his eyes so he could concentrate on the feel of her hand.

  “I won’t deny I need to work through a few things, but I promise I’ll never use you again. I’m sorry for that. I love you so much already, and I’ve been fighting it so hard. I…I want to know how good it feels not to fight you, Chase. I’m sorry for how cruel I’ve been to you. For using you. Can you forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” he whispered, turning to kiss her palm. “If you hadn’t used me, I wouldn’t love you right now.”

  She pulled him down for a kiss. A soft kiss that didn’t hold any of that familiar, desperate need.

  When she leaned back, her smile made her look ten years younger. Younger than she’d ever looked back then. “I lied to you about something, though,” she warned.

  “What?”

  “I actually am a neat freak.”

  “That was kind of obvious. Just don’t sneak any fresh flowers into my place and we’ll be fine.”

  They smiled at each other like idiots for a few long seconds, then her eyes shifted to a spot over his shoulder. “How’s your dad?”