No Going Back

by Ainsley Kincade

  “The blood test will confirm it,” he said, “but your tiredness, the positive result on the urine test, and the fact that your menstrual cycle is late, I’m fairly certain.”

  “Late?” I asked. I knew I’d been a few days late, but stress usually messed with my cycle. It was what had kicked off David’s assault back then. I hadn’t thought much of it, expecting it would start in a day or two if I could get Donovan to calm down and let me rest. Now, it was all I could think about.

  Dr. Moore sat with me a few more minutes until he was sure I wasn’t going to either faint or walk into another situation that would land me in the hospital. He had been my doctor since my freshman year in college, a grandfatherly figure that had always reminded me of my dad. It was probably inappropriate, but I hugged him before leaving the room and making my way to the checkout desk.

  I made it to my car before a text from Brandon buzzed its way into my spinning thoughts. How’d it go, Beautiful?

  Grinning as I typed, I sent back only, Terrifying, but perfect.

  WTF? Are you all right?

  I laughed, and felt bad for leaving him hanging, but Brandon was not going to be the first one to know, no matter how flattering his pet names for me were. I’ll tell you everything later. Where’s Donovan?

  You’re messing with my head, Beautiful. Your man left twenty minutes ago, fucking messed up as ever. Go home and straighten him out. Please! Then call me and tell me what the fuck is going on.

  I still wasn’t sure what was making Donovan behave so strangely, but I had a sneaking suspicion my news would trump everything else. Not speeding back to the apartment was torture in the evening traffic. By the time I finally found a parking space and impatiently rode the elevator, I was near bursting. It took three tries to get my key in the lock, and a lot of jiggling to actually unlock it. I pushed into the entryway expecting Donovan to be there, after all the noise I’d made trying to get in, but he was just coming out of the bedroom with a very strange expression on his face, and for some strange reason he was wearing a tux

  “Donovan, is everything okay?” I asked.

  His expression twisted. “Would you be willing to do a huge favor for me?”

  Confused, and more than a little worried, I said, “What is this about?”

  “I got an invitation a while back, to an event, one I didn’t want to go to, but I got a call, which is why I hadn’t called to see how your appointment went, and I pretty much got guilted into going. I know it’s last minute, but I’d feel a hell of a lot better about this if you came with me,” he said. “Please?”

  He was clearly agitated, but something felt off about his request. Still, I couldn’t deny him. “Of course, but what is the event? Why don’t you want to go? Who called to guilt you into attending?”

  Pain flashed across his features. His fingers twitched, which I’d never seen them do before. “Keira’s mother called, and…”

  He couldn’t continue and, suddenly, I didn’t want him to say another word. That was what hadn’t seemed right. I’d known the date for the benefit, the one Rudolph asked him to contribute to and he’d turned down, the one he’d never even known was for the Keira Marpole Foundation. Of course Keira’s mother would expect him to be there. Why hadn’t I even considered the possibility? Cold settled in my gut as I swallowed my own panic and guilt.

  “If it’s too much, you don’t have to go,” I said quietly, silently pleading he would change his mind and my betrayal would never be discovered.

  “I have to,” he groaned.

  Everything else slipped to the back of my mind. I’d gone against Marie and made my choice to protect him. I’d encouraged him to face his demons, and attending the benefit was part of that. He would understand. I had to believe that. He loved me enough to forgive me. He had to.

  With shaking hands, I squeezed his shoulder. “Just give me a few minutes to change, all right?”

  I slipped past him before he had a chance to answer. It wasn’t until I had stripped down to my bra and panties that I remembered what I had been so excited to tell him. Suddenly, Dr. Moore’s fears dwarfed my own. Donovan wouldn’t turn me away over a pregnancy. Betrayal was a different matter altogether, and I would have no choice but to fall upon his mercy.

  FIFTEEN

  Falling

  It was unfair of me to drag Reagan to my murdered girlfriend’s charity auction. I knew that before asking, but I couldn’t face it alone. She was uncomfortable on my arm. I couldn’t blame her. It fucking killed me to watch her cling to my side, eyes darting around the room as though Keira’s ghost or her bereaved parents might jump out at her. I didn’t know how to make the situation any better.

  Mrs. Marpole had begged me to come, and I’d followed through. How long I would stay never came up. My intentions were to find the auction, bid in order to contribute to the foundation, and take Reagan home. I’d been running her ragged, both at work and at home. Fear that the police still hadn’t caught that bastard Keeling and believed him to still be in the city had made me a lousy boyfriend, but I couldn’t let up until I knew Reagan would be safe.

  Maybe I could make it up to her by ditching the idea to hike the preserve and taking her to a quiet bed and breakfast instead. At least she would be able to relax and rest. I was worried about how tired she seemed since meeting her father.

  Approaching the bar, I asked the bartender for a white wine and beer, but Reagan’s hand tightened around mine as soon as the words left my mouth. “Actually,” she said, “I’ll just have a ginger ale.”

  “Are you feeling sick?” I asked when the bartender turned away. “I heard about Melanie. Maybe…”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just tired.”

  Before I could press her any further, the bartender handed over our drinks and I was distracted by the approach of Keira’s parents. Despite the fact that I had been close to their family before their daughter’s death, I felt myself stiffen as Magdalena Marpole wrapped her thin arms around me.

  “Thank you for coming, Donny. It means so much to us that you were willing to come and contribute,” she gushed.

  I seriously doubted my contribution in the form of any bids I might win would do much in the grand scheme of things. Her comment was odd, but I shook it off and extended my hand to Alvin Marpole when his wife retreated to his side. “Thank you again, Donny. I know coming tonight couldn’t have been easy, and your contribution…” His gaze slid from me to land on Reagan. Her eyes widened as he extended his hand to her as well. “We’re so pleased Donny’s found such a lovely young woman to share his life with. It’s wonderful to meet you, Reagan.”

  While I wondered how exactly they already knew her name, Reagan struggled to control a blush as she shook his hand. “Oh, um, thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

  Magdalena swooped back in, taking both of Reagan’s hands in hers. “Such a sweet soul you are. Just lovely.” She beamed, tears welling in her eyes for some reason. “Now, we don’t want to keep you. Please, go see the other auction items and enjoy yourselves.”

  Other auctions items? We hadn’t even seen one. I didn’t know what she was talking about, but used the invitation as an excuse to pull Reagan away from them. We were nearing the ballroom where the auction items were on display when my phone buzzed. Slipping my phone from my pocket, I almost returned it immediately when I saw it wasn’t an update from the police. The preview of Brandon’s text changed my mind. I extracted the phone and read his message.

  What the fuck is going on with Reagan? Her text after her doctor’s appt made no sense and she hasn’t replied since. TALK TO HER. Then text me before I lose my fucking mind.

  Confused, again, I turned to ask Reagan about the text and stopped when I nearly ran into the back of a crowd of people. My confusion was momentarily replaced by curiosity as I wondered what item had drawn such heavy interest. Looking over the heads of the people in front of me, I felt as if my breath had been knocked out of me when I saw a man I recogn
ized immediately standing next to two large prints I had no explanation for.

  Rudolph.

  My gut twisted and I was almost sure I was going hurl before blinding anger took control. I’d never even asked what event Rudolph wanted me to contribute to. Marie had told me the basics, but not who was organizing it. She knew…she knew I would have said no on the spot if I’d known it was for Keira’s foundation! So she lied to me instead. When I told her no to contributing, she lied again, to Rudolph that time, and went behind my back to get what she wanted.

  I’d passed off her pushing and prodding to get me into the studio as more of the same from her. She knew best, according to her, and she was relentless in proving her point. My gaze skimmed over the images as my fury threatened to consume me. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to keep myself from pushing through the crowd to rip the framed images off the easels and smash them, tear them until there was nothing left. Only the subject of images stopped me, breeding confusion as I staggered back and wondered how the fuck Marie had gotten them.

  The first, a collage of every picture I’d posted on Facebook since that first one of me kissing Reagan, wasn’t as much of a mystery. Anyone could save pictures off Facebook, yet…the image quality was too good. Uploading to the site always compressed images, making them less sharp and defined. These, though, were pristine, as clear as a cell phone camera could capture. The plaque beneath the photo read, “Starting Over – Donovan Gabriel.”

  The second one…I was going to fucking kill her the next time I saw her. I had no idea she had gotten her hands on the photos from that night. There was no mistaking them. I could recognize Reagan’s gorgeous blonde locks no matter the hairstyle. The view of the camera was level with the crown on her head, capturing the effortless tumble of her hair over the arm and down the side. Only the outline of her face was visible in that position, but there was enough to see the sweet smile on her lips, the one meant for me and me alone.

  The plaque beneath that portrait read, “Peace in Passion – Donovan Gabriel.”

  Stepping back from the crowd, I felt my hands ball into fists and my jaw clench. It was an effort to squeeze the words past my lips as I turned to face Reagan and asked, “Where the fuck is Marie?”

  The rest of my assault, demanding to know when and where and how this had happened, stalled on the tip of my tongue as I saw the guilt and shame plastered across the face of the woman who claimed to love me, who had promised to protect me, and who had so clearly betrayed me.

  “I…I didn’t…know…Marie, she….I tried, but she…”

  Disgust settled over me, coating my shoulders in a putrid weight that stuck like tar and sank deep beneath my skin. That was how. That was how Marie had gotten the images from my phone, from the photoshoot Reagan had sworn she would never tell anyone about! From Marie I could expect this kind of shit, but from her? Her betrayal tore through me, spilling out in a torrent of fury.

  “Fuck you, Reagan,” I hissed. “You promised me! You fucking looked me in the eye and promised me! I trusted you!”

  “But, I didn’t…”

  Heads turned in our direction and I stormed away, refusing to make a scene and embarrass the Marpoles. Reagan could do whatever the fuck she wanted, and she clearly already had. There was no way I could stay another minute, another second. I burst through the lobby doors into the warm summer night air and yanked my tie away from my throat.

  “Donovan, please,” Reagan pleaded as she rushed out the doors behind me.

  I rounded on her, fury crackling under my skin, scaring her into scurrying back against the building and pressing her hands against the bricks. Wide-eyed, tears careening down her face, she begged me to listen. “Just give me two minutes to explain, please. Don’t run away, Donovan, please!”

  Two long strides brought us chest to chest and I pointed an accusing finger at her. “You have no idea what I’ve gone through to protect you! You go behind my back and throw everything away? Expose yourself? Put us both in danger? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Donovan,” she pleaded, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Calm down and we can…”

  “Calm down?” I roared. “That’s all you have to say to me? Fucking calm down? You of all people…you should have understood! I should have been able to trust you! I told you what the risks were! You knew about Keeling’s threats, what it would do to me to have something happen to you, to be responsible for your life being put in danger, and still…you stole the photos you said you’d never tell anyone about and fucking put them on display! Worse than using the Facebook pictures, you took studio shots, you modeling for me, professional images he’ll see as me stealing your beauty, and he will retaliate! You did exactly what I begged you not to, what he told me he would come after me for doing!”

  “It wasn’t—”

  “He’s here, Reagan, in the city,” I growled. “It wasn’t my imagination that his threats were real. I’ve gave up what I loved to keep what happened to Keira from ever happening again and you just fucking spit all over that!”

  Reagan’s face drained of color, but I couldn’t even stomach the thought of reaching out to steady her. “Wh…what?” she whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why didn’t you fucking tell me about this?” I shouted, thrusting my hand toward the hotel we’d just left.

  Her chin quivered as more tears spilled over her reddened cheeks. “I was trying to protect you.”

  Scoffing, disgust so thick in my voice it almost had weight, I threw a hand up. “That makes no fucking sense, Reagan, but I couldn’t give a shit right now.”

  I was done. Spinning away from her, I gave up and walked away.

  ***

  “Did Donovan just fly out of here like a lunatic?” Marie demanded as she burst through the hotel doors.

  Still shaking, I slowly turned to face her. “You are such a bitch, Marie. How could you have done this to him? How did you even get that picture? I told you I’d already sent something to Rudolph and you still stole that image and sent it anyway? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Snapping her hands to her hips, Marie glared at me. “Your high school collage wasn’t going to cut it, Reagan. Just because you didn’t have the balls to do what was necessary, doesn’t mean you get to turn into a weepy little girl when Donovan has a temper tantrum. He’s behaving like a child about all of this, and so are you.”

  “Keeling is back.” My voice was so soft, I wouldn’t have been sure she even heard me if not her for hands falling from her hips and her face draining of color.

  “What?” Marie whispered. Her head shook, denial lining her features. “No, that’s a lie. You’re only saying that to…”

  I felt as if I was on the verge of collapsing, but I pushed away from the wall and forced myself to face her. “Keeling is in the city. What I did in having his Facebook pictures printed was bad enough. I don’t know if Donovan will ever forgive me, but the image you stole…Keeling’s letter was specific. He threatened to come after Donovan and whoever modeled for him if he ever attempted to steal a woman’s beauty again. Professional images, Marie. Studio images,” I spat.

  “Keeling won’t know they were a personal thing, between a boyfriend and girlfriend. Not hired work or art for a show. All he’ll see is the hype already forming around Donovan being back, and images that look like exactly what he told Donovan to never again produce.” I held my hands up, defeated. “If something happens…this is on our heads, Marie. He won’t even speak to me, and I suspect things won’t go well if you try to talk to him. But if you’re really his friend, you better find a way to make sure he’s protected. I don’t know what to do.”

  That was all I could take. I burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably as I thought of Keeling finding out, of him hurting Donovan. Concern for myself was far in the distance, barely more than a blip in my thoughts. The image Marie choose wouldn’t identify me. She had unknowingly protected my identity while exposing someon
e she claimed to care deeply about to the one person who had threatened to end his life.

  Marie reached out and pulled me into her arms. Her body stiff, I could feel her heart racing, and I knew she was trying to come up with a plan to fix all of this. A dark haired man bumped into her from behind, and she snapped at him angrily before dragging in a deep breath and trying to focus.

  “I’m calling the police,” she said in a stiff tone that sounded more scared than authoritative. “Detective Bradford, he was in charge of Keira’s case back then. If Keeling is back, he’ll know the details. You…” She pushed me back and looked down at me with a pitiful expression. She seemed about to say something then blanched. “Is there somewhere else you can stay tonight?”

  Her question unleashed a new round of tears. I couldn’t go home. Home was with Donovan and he hated me. None of my other friends were home either. Brandon was out of town on a shoot, and Emily had gone with him to help with costuming. “I’ll call my dad,” I whispered, “but it’ll take him a while to get here. I’ll go to Charlie’s until then.”

  Marie nodded. “Good, good.” She signaled for a cab and dragged me over to the edge of the sidewalk as soon as one pulled to the curb. “Stay with Charlie until your dad gets to the city. Keep your phone on. I’ll keep you updated. Bradford has to know something, and he’ll send someone over to watch Donovan. You stay inside with your friend and be safe, okay?”

  Realizing that she had mistaken my favorite tavern as a person, I started to object, but my teary mumbling and her rough handling as she shoved me into the cab didn’t accomplish much. She was making a call as she slammed my door shut, and then the driver was asking me where to go. With no other options, I said, “Charlie’s Tavern.”

  He nodded, didn’t ask if I was okay or why I was crying, and pulled back into traffic. He ignored me as I took my cell phone from my clutch and did something I had never done before. “Dad? Can you come get me?”