Diversions

by Leanne Davis

  She stood her ground. Reminded herself she had been around Jason several times without knowing he was an ex-con. He was no different now than before. He was trying to make her cower, prove he was right about her; it was the last thing she was going to let him see her do.

  “I’m still asking you for a ride.”

  He stopped dead again. His shoes kicked a rock when he snapped around. “With me?”

  “Who else can I ask? My father? Trent? Terry? Every other person in that party either works for my father or is related to the Gallaghers.”

  “You don’t have any friends?”

  “I had friends at school who all live far away from this small-minded small town. I had friends, none of who even knew Trent, and none of who I would want to see me acting like this.”

  “Like what? Like with me?”

  “No.” She rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, you are the closest thing I have to a friend here tonight.”

  “A friend? You and I?”

  “Yes, a friend. Someone I could count on. For a ride. That’s it. Please?”

  He scowled at her. “Just a ride?”

  She nodded. “Just a ride.”

  “All right, just a ride. Are you sure about this?”

  “No. I’m just not sure about anything. But I am sure I don’t want to go back to that party.”

  ****

  She peeked over at Jason as they pulled out of the parking lot.

  “I have no keys or money and nowhere to go.” Stiffly she glared out the window, refusing to glance at him for fear she’d witness him leering or smirking at her for volunteering herself to come home with him. She didn’t even have her cell phone. It made her feel almost naked.

  “Yeah, I know. I didn’t exactly think you had them tucked under that dress of yours. You’ll stay with me. Where else would you go?”

  She looked at him sharply. Staying with him was not a smart idea. But since she’d foolishly rushed off with him, what did she expect?

  “I was just stating it out loud.”

  “Don’t look at me like I forced you to come home with me. This was your idea.”

  She nodded. Swallowed. “Right. My idea.”

  Heavy silence fell between them. She sneaked a glance at his profile in the passing headlights. His mouth was pressed closed, his jaw locked. She hated the terrible silence.

  “So, um... What exactly were you in jail for?”

  He sighed and glanced at her as he put his blinker on and changed lanes. “Prison. I wasn’t in the county jail, I was at the DelRey Correctional Center.”

  She shifted, uncomfortably realizing he wasn’t kidding around. He hadn’t been merely detained. She pictured the big sprawling complex thirty miles away from Almstad. That was a mean-looking prison. The real thing.

  “What for?”

  “For possession and intent to sell drugs.”

  “Drugs?”

  He glanced at her. “That was the charge.”

  “And what? They weren’t yours?”

  He shrugged carelessly as he leaned over to adjust the air in his truck. “They weren’t mine.”

  “Then how did you get charged?”

  “Evidence was in my possession.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Yeah, join the club.”

  She frowned and shifted so she could see his profile. “Really, I don’t understand. Explain it to me.”

  “Why? You’re not going to believe me.”

  “I want to hear it.”

  He looked over at her. “No. You don’t.”

  “Really, I do.”

  His jaw clenched. Finally he glanced at her, then back to the road. “My mother has been an addict since I was five. She’s been through rehab several times. Nothing ever stuck. It’s well known that Irene Malone is a drug addict. She isn’t all that particular what kind of drugs. Goes to figure, doesn’t it, her son would be too?”

  “I don’t understand. What happened?”

  “Join the club. I don’t really know what happened. I came home to find a police cruiser in front of my house. I had dealt with the police before with my mom. I thought it was about her. I invited them in my house. They asked a bunch of questions that were unrelated to Irene Malone. I had no idea what to think. They wanted to know about my habits, my job, who I associated with. Then they pulled out a warrant to search my house. My name had come up in an interrogation with another inmate. I didn’t recognize the name. I denied any knowledge of him. The problem was, he seemed to know me. He had details about me and my life and even my house that were extensive and damaging. He claimed he’d gotten the drugs he was in possession of from me. I was his supplier.”

  She clutched the door handle, riveted and confused by his story.

  “What happened?”

  “They searched and found a stash big enough to suggest I could be selling. I was arrested. Really, who could blame them? The fucking stuff was stashed far back in my spare closet. I was as confused as they. I got a lawyer, but I could never give an explanation that justified how it got in my house. The only possible explanation I had was that my mother put it there before she disappeared the last time. I haven’t seen or heard from her since about a month before I was arrested. She might have left it there. But... I just can’t believe she’d make some random guy make up shit about me. She’s a falling-down mess and a shitty mother, but she isn’t maliciously evil. Anyway, the drugs in my house coupled with the guy who claimed I sold them to him, how could I not be found guilty? I only got out so soon for overcrowding issues. I should be locked up clear into next year.”

  Her mouth opened and stayed. She could not believe his story. She didn’t know what to think. His mouth tightened. She didn’t know where to start.

  “Who was the guy?”

  “Never met him before in my life. I have no idea why he knew my name or so much about me. But he did. He used my conviction to get his own charges reduced. I get why he lied. I just don’t know why he lied about me, or how he even knew about me.”

  “There’s no association?”

  “There again, the only person I can think of who knows me and could have an association with who accused me is my mother.”

  She gasped in horror. “Do you think your mother would really do this to you?”

  He shrugged and flicked the air off. “Someone set me up. And someone knew who I was. Someone pointed a police investigation my way. It had to be someone who knew me personally.”

  “But your mother?”

  “She had access to my house. She often had loser boyfriends. I used to let her crash with me sometimes. She knew enough about me and my routine to replicate it for someone else.”

  “I just don’t see why she would do that to you.”

  He jerked the steering wheel to turn, his agitation clearly mounting. “I don’t see why either. Maybe it was her boyfriend. I just know it fucking happened. Someone did this to me,” he said, looking her way with a sneer. “And I don’t expect you to believe me.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in about two years.”

  She had to remind herself to shut her jaw. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “Nothing. You don’t say anything. You go home tomorrow, forget you ever knew me, and be glad you dodged a bullet, getting away from me.”

  By then he’d pulled around the back side of Kelso’s Auto Garage. He got out of his truck and slammed the door. She followed him up the stairs. He was pulling out a set of keys when she caught up to him.

  “How come Bill lets you live here?”

  Jason glanced at her with a scowl. “He knows I didn’t do anything.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because he believed I was innocent. He gave me the chance that neither of my parents ever gave me.”

  He turned on a lamp and set his wallet and keys on the counter. She stood there in the semi-shadows feeling uncomfortable and unsure of what to do with
herself. This was a bad idea. On so many levels. It made her dizzy to contemplate. But still here she was. He turned to her.

  “You want some coffee or something?”

  “Water,” she said simply. Her throat suddenly felt like sand was lodged in it. He moved with ease, totally comfortable. He got a glass out, put some ice in it, and filled it with water. He looked back at her and saw her still standing in the same spot as if she was rooted there.

  “Regretting fleeing with me?”

  “No.”

  She was regretting it all, but there was no way she’d admit it. She walked over to the couch and fell onto it, exhausted. She had hardly eaten and had a headache. She closed her eyes leaning back.

  When he handed her the glass she quickly downed it. She set the empty glass on the coffee table and sat back. She closed her eyes again and tucked her legs under her.

  “What was it like?”

  He had gone into the other room when she asked. He came back and leaned into the doorjamb, his shirt untucked, his cuffs undone.

  “What was what like?”

  “Prison. Being convicted.”

  “What do you think it was like? It ruined my life.”

  She drew in a breath at the stark statement. “I can imagine. And you really didn’t do it?”

  “No. But why would you believe me?”

  “Would your mother really do that? To her own son?”

  He stared into her eyes. “You think it’s tough being Aaron Andrews’ daughter, you should try being Irene Malone’s son. Yes, she’d do that to me. I’m sure she did that to me.”

  She held his gaze and then dropped it out of embarrassment. Her problems suddenly seemed small, contrite, and within the range of normal and manageable. His were not. They were terrible. Heartbreaking. Life-changing. Life-ruining. And suddenly she was getting a glimpse into who Jason really was.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through.”

  He shrugged, turned and disappeared again. He came back out a few moments later in a gray hoodie and faded jeans. Back to the casual Jason Malone she was used to him being. He tossed her a sweatshirt. Grateful, she lifted it off the couch where it landed. She stood up, and pulled it over her now-ridiculous dress. It came to her knees. He sat in a chair opposite her.

  She sighed deeply. “I’m going to have hell to pay for this stunt.”

  “You didn’t realize that at the time?”

  “I did. But I couldn’t pretend to be happy in that party anymore. All my plans were fine with me. At least I thought they were, until I graduated and moved back here. Then the world suddenly started to seem very small, very structured, and very confining. And then I met you.”

  He leaned forward and laced his fingers together, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze was sharp on her. “You met me and what?”

  “I don’t know what. Something snapped in me. Especially tonight. It felt like they were suffocating me, all of them. Everyone. Except you.”

  He ran a hand absently through his thick hair. “I think you’ll regret this in the morning.”

  “Well, that’s better than what I feel right now.”

  “Which is?”

  “Like I’m going to regret the rest of my life.”

  “I don’t think being here with me will do anything to help that.”

  “Don’t tell me what I should or should not do. That’s what I ran away from tonight.”

  He threw his hands up. “Hey, whatever, it’s your life.”

  “Why do you act like you hate me half the time? It’s not my fault you hate who I chose to be engaged to. I can’t help what Trent’s parents did to you. In a way neither can he.”

  He snorted. “I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could be much more obvious about that.”

  “That was an act. You were trying to piss me off.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Is that what you think?”

  She shifted, suddenly unsure. He had to be acting, didn’t he? “It’s what’s true. You don’t trust me. You were making your point to me.”

  “You’re right, I don’t trust you. I think your being here is a game to you, and I don’t like the idea of being your walk on the wild side. Some kind of misguided rebellion before you settle into your place in society.”

  “I told you I’m not trying to play games. The thing, is I don’t know what has come over me.”

  “Probably the same thing that’s come over me.”

  She shot him a look. “I’m confused right now.”

  “Yeah, I caught that.”

  “I’m sorry if you’re caught in the middle of my identity crisis.”

  “Yeah? Well, me too.”

  “I’m trying to apologize for that. I just don’t know what this thing with you is.”

  He got up and stepped away from her. “That’s about as obvious as that ring on your finger. And this thing with me is over, because I won’t be some kind of diversion for you. Because at some point, you’re going to get your head back on straight and go back to your life, and to Trent.”

  With that he turned and walked into his bedroom and firmly shut the door on her. She got up and stood there, staring after him with her mouth open. He ran so hot and cold. One moment he seemed to be coming onto her, pressuring her to leave Trent; the next he was pushing her away because she was... what? Playing some kind of game at his expense? She wasn’t. She might be confused, lost, and a little crazy just now, but she most definitely wasn’t playing around with someone like Jason Malone.

  Chapter Seven

  Christine woke up with a start. She had fallen asleep shortly after Jason had closed his bedroom door. It took her a moment to remind herself that she was at Jason’s. It was dark except for a faint glow outside the closed blinds. She was alone in the room and covered with a heavy afghan.

  Thoughts swirled in her head. She stared at the ceiling forever. Why had she run tonight? She couldn’t imagine the puzzlement, concern and anger that Trent and her parents would be consumed with over the fact that she had simply left the party. How could she have run off with Jason? And what’s more, why did she so want to? For in her heart, she had wanted to. She wanted to be right there, in his apartment, not even thirty feet from him. Her heart jumped into her throat as she shoved back the blanket and slowly rose to her shaking legs. Why? Why was she here? Why was she doing this? And what was this she was doing? She paused just outside the doorway as the paralyzing thoughts stumbled around her brain. She could not do this. She should not be here.

  Why then, did it feel like her last chance to ever do what she really wanted to do?

  She pushed his door open and stepped into the gloomy room. The blinds were open enough to let the moonlight trickle in. The alarm clock on the night stand read 2:44 in blaring neon green. The clothes he’d been wearing were thrown carelessly over other forgotten clothes on top of a chair.

  She should turn and leave. Go back to the couch and sleep for the rest of the night. But she didn’t. She stood there and searched him out in his bed.

  He was asleep on his side, his back facing her. He had no shirt on. One arm was flung over his head. She’d never seen him without a shirt and was surprised at how big his muscles looked. He had a tattoo on his arm. Awesome... why was she staring at it? He was sound asleep, judging by the steady rise and fall of his chest. Covers were twisted around his waist and one leg was flung completely out. Restless sleeper. That was nice to know, but what exactly was she doing gawking at Jason Malone as he slept?

  She stepped forward until she was standing next to the bed. From the moment she’d met him she’d been drawn to him. She felt so unlike her usual self when she was around him that she ended up acting unlike herself. It was wrong to do what she was doing. Cheating. With her fiancé’s brother. She had no idea where her relationship stood with Trent. Or where she even wanted it to be. She had even less clue where she stood with Jason.

  And the stranger part was, she didn’t particularly care just then
.

  She quietly slipped into the bed and slid in next to him. She slid her hand along the smooth plane of his back. She couldn’t resist. He felt like silk underneath her hand. Silk over hard muscles and tendons. Her touch was soft, breath-like. Her hand went down his side and around to his stomach as she wrapped her arm around him. She curled up tight against him. She felt the instant he woke up. He jumped, then went perfectly still. She pressed her lips to his back and kissed along the back of his neck.

  He turned gently so he was flat on his back. She moved enough so she could keep kissing him along his neck, his jaw, and finally his lips. He was fully awake by then. She could feel the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat, the slight catch of his breath. He kissed her back then, and nothing had ever felt so right as being in his arms. No one before had made her feel like this. He broke the kiss and met her gaze. She couldn’t tell what he thought. His eyes were dark with desire.

  He reached both arms up around her and pulled her on top of him. He started kissing her, but not gently, as she had been. Hot and hard, his lips pressed against her, his tongue quick to follow into her mouth. She met his assault and felt her blood start to burn in her veins.

  He took over quickly and started exploring more thoroughly than her tentative start had been. His hands came up, pushing aside the material that covered her breasts, and then he was finally covering her small breasts. She gasped at the contact of his hand on her skin as it moved over her. His fingertips were rough and they felt like heaven against her sensitized skin. Desire flared in her, white-hot and scorching.

  Jason’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Just as one spot would start to smolder under his fingertips, he’d move them lower then higher, and the sensations would follow. His hands glided over her breasts, her stomach, her butt; between her legs, and up her back. All the while, he kissed her relentlessly. His arousal pressed against her. Her dress was pushed up around her waist. He restlessly pulled at her nylons.

  He then turned them so she was under him. He kissed her along her jaw and down her neck until he came to her breasts. She sighed as his lips and tongue moved over her nipples. He continued that for so long that she squirmed impatiently under him. She moaned and feverishly ran her hands in his soft hair. She’d never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him. She reached around to the back waistband of his boxers. She started to tug at them.