The Reasons to Stay (Harlequin Superromance)

by Laura Drake

  He turned right. “We’ll find him. Don’t worry.” Face forward, he reached his hand across the seat to take hers.

  His fingers were a solid anchor. She clung to them and peered into the dusk.

  “You’re shaking.”

  “I’m not cold. Could you go faster?”

  “I’m at the speed limit now. You just keep watching for him.”

  Small stuccoed homes perched on postage stamp lawns; the only differences were the details—a wrought-iron fence here, a small rose garden there. “I really appreciate the ride.”

  “Just keep an eye out.” The gentle squeeze of his hand smoothed her sharp-edged nerves. “What set him off?”

  She peered down each driveway. If he was hiding, they’d drive right by. Unease prickled her skin from the inside, raising goose bumps. Would he really hide? Not want to come home? Adam braked at a stop sign. “Did he have any money on him? He could have caught a bus.”

  “Maybe a buck. No more.”

  Could Nacho have headed to the playground of the school where he hung with his “homies”? His buddies, Joe and Diego. He could have gone to one of their houses! She combed her mind for their surnames. Had he ever told her their last names? What kind of guardian was she, if she didn’t even know the last names of Nacho’s friends, or where they lived? The fact that it hadn’t even occurred to her to ask was her answer.

  “Which way?” Adam asked.

  The heavy weight of responsibility for another human being hit so hard it seemed to push her down in the seat. There was a reason she’d traveled light. This was her worst nightmare come true. She glanced around in the dusk. The houses lining the cross street seemed identical to the ones ahead. “I don’t know.” She closed her eyes, imagining Nacho walking to this spot. She imagined him crossing the street.

  What, now you’re psychic?

  Hell, it made as much sense as the rest of her life lately. Besides, it was as good a guess as any. “Straight. I have a hunch that he went to Bear’s place.”

  Adam flipped on the lights and drove on. “Who is this Bear guy? Doesn’t sound like anyone I know.”

  “He owns a custom-paint shop, outside town.” Surely he wouldn’t have tried to walk all the way out there?

  “What does Nacho want with him?” He scanned the road, then the houses on the left.

  “He wants to learn to paint cars. You know, pin striping, flames, stuff like that. Slow down.” A group of boys sat on the steps of a porch. Nacho wasn’t among them. “Never mind.”

  “That could be a good thing for him, don’t you think?”

  “You didn’t see this guy. He looks exactly like his name. Only scarier.”

  “I can check him out if you’d—”

  “I’m good, thanks. Nacho’s still on restriction anyway.”

  “But it could be a good outlet for his...talent. Maybe it would keep him busy and out of trouble. You could use it as a reward for good behavior.”

  Irritation clamped her jaws so tight her teeth hurt. Just focus on finding Nacho. That’s what’s important right now.

  They rode in silence for thirty seconds.

  Adam broke it. “You know I’m the last one to give Nacho a break. He’s a pain in the ass, and he needs to learn some lessons. But if you don’t loosen the reins sometimes, how do you know if he’s learning those lessons?”

  The worry dog snarling in her mind lunged against its chain, snapping it. “And you know this because you have kids, right?”

  Adam stared straight ahead, but even in profile she could see his pain in the dash lights.

  “Turn right on Foxen Canyon.”

  There were no streetlights this far out of town. “Do you really think he’d try to walk this far?”

  “You don’t know how much he’s bugged me about coming back to this place. In spite of the fact that Bear is big and scary, Nacho seems to trust him.”

  “Probably looking for a father figure.”

  “I never thought about it that way.” She squinted into the darkness. “Slow down, I think it’s right around this curve...there.”

  Before they could turn in at the dirt drive, headlights bounced toward them. Adam put the car in Park as a huge ancient truck pulled out. “Is that Bear?”

  “Yes.” There was no mistaking that dark hulk in the cab. No one else was that big.

  Adam lowered his window and waved the truck over.

  Arm hanging out the window, Bear pulled alongside, peering down into the car. “What do you want now?”

  Priss leaned into Adam’s lap. “Have you seen my brother?”

  “Is he missing?”

  When she slumped, Adam’s arm came around her waist, supporting her. “AWOL, more like.”

  “Well, I’ve been here all afternoon. I haven’t seen him. But I’ll keep an eye out.” He reached into the chest pocket of his plaid lumberjack shirt and pulled out a cell phone. “You’d better give me your number, so I can call if he does show up.”

  She recited the number and after Bear pulled out, they followed him back toward town.

  “Where the hell can he be?” Worry gnawed at her gut like a ravenous dog.

  Adam braked to a stop so fast the seat belt locked across Priss’s chest. “Do you see him?”

  “No. But I have an idea. Your mom’s buried in the Widow’s Grove Cemetery, right?”

  “Oh, good idea.” You should have thought of that.

  He stomped on the gas and the engine roared. Four miles later, the wrought-iron gates came up on their left. The lights flashed on marble headstones when he pulled in. “Where?”

  She pointed up the hill, to the newer section. “Up there, on the right.”

  The skeletal trees looked white and spooky in the headlights. Would he have come here on his own at night? Probably not, but it was the only other place she could think of. “On that little knoll, right there.”

  Adam turned the car on a diagonal so when he stopped, the lights illuminated the hill.

  She could easily see that the area was deserted. Her mother’s headstone may not be visible, but Priss knew right where it was. Regret bubbled up from somewhere deep and dark, bathing her brain.

  This parenting thing is hard, Mom. You may have been a lousy role model when it came to lots of things, but you tried. I can see that now. “Maybe some people in our lives are examples to show us what not to do.”

  “Your mom?”

  Shit. She’d said that out loud. “Yeah. He’s not here. Let’s go.” Priss felt defeated.

  Priss’s stomach hurt from holding the muscles taut and her clenched fingers on the armrest had gone to sleep when the sedan’s headlights picked up a flash of white moving along the sidewalk. As they got closer, it coalesced into the band of Nacho’s underwear, visible between his sagging jeans, and his dark hoodie.

  “There he is!”

  Adam braked and Priss was out before the car stopped rocking on its shocks. “Nacho!”

  He turned. The stark loneliness etched on his face shot straight into her heart, leaving a smoking hole. When she got close enough, she snatched his hoodie and pulled. Unbalanced, he fell into her, his arms coming around her waist to keep from falling. She hugged him hard. “Holy crap, kid, where have you been?”

  “Mph.” He mumbled into her chest, taking a step closer to get his feet under him.

  “We’ve been searching forever.” Her fingers cupped the back of his head and she held him to her, even after he tried to disentangle himself from her grip.

  “Lemme go.”

  She made herself release him. “Where were you?”

  “Just walking.”

  Not able to let go entirely, she ran her hands down his arms and held on to the bunched fabric of his sleeves.

  “I’
m fine. Quit hovering already.”

  “I know. I know.” She forced her fingers to relax. “Let’s go.”

  She kept a shaky hand on his neck all the way to the car. “I’m just so glad you’re okay. I imagined all kinds of...” She shivered. “If you ever do that again, I’m going to kill you. Seriously.”

  The dome light came on when Nacho climbed in the back. “Hey, Adam.” He slammed the door.

  “Hey, Nacho.”

  Heart still hammering, Priss settled into the front seat. Now that she knew he was okay, she was going to kill him. “Thank Adam for driving and helping me find you.”

  “It’s okay—”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “I’m sorry, Adam,” Nacho mumbled.

  She turned and glared over the seat. “You deserve to be grounded for the rest of your life.”

  “Priss.”

  Adam’s calm look penetrated her anger. Was she overreacting? Apparently. But she’d been too lenient with Nacho at first, and he’d walked all over her, ignoring her rules. Now had she swung too far the other way? Tough love apparently had a shelf life. She sensed Nacho was nearing the end of it. Maybe she did need to loosen up. She rolled her shoulders. “Even though you deserve worse, I’m going to let it slide.”

  A sigh came from the backseat.

  “This time.”

  She faced front as Adam pulled away from the curb. Easier to cave if she didn’t have to look at the kid. “I have noticed that you’re trying, Nacho. I appreciate that you didn’t throw a fit in the parking lot tonight. It was mature of you to walk away instead. Only next time, don’t walk so far, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  In spite of the fact that she wasn’t sure it was the right thing, she pushed the words from where they clung. “You keep trying, and I’ll look into the car-painting thing.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m not promising anything. If he turns out to be as badass as he looks, the answer is still no. Got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it.” The little-kid happiness in his voice caught on her rubbed raw places, soothing the sting.

  Adam broke in. “I know the police chief. I can ask about Bear, if you’d like.”

  She smiled across the seat at Adam, grateful for his help tonight. He’d given her much more than just a ride. His solid presence and support had not only helped her keep her head when she would have panicked but it kept her from allowing her anger to make yet another mistake with Nacho. She reached across the seat, took Adam’s hand and twined her fingers with his. When he glanced at her, she mouthed, “Thank you.”

  He winked.

  Things were changing. And for this moment anyway, it felt good and right.

  * * *

  ADAM STRODE THE sidewalk. Step one in his plan to take back his life had been a hard one, but it sure was turning out all right. He remembered the afternoon sun falling on the tawny skin of Priss’s thigh, and the feel of the firm muscle beneath it. When Priss loosed the tight rein on herself, she undid it all the way. She showed him something about sex that day that he’d never experienced before. Priss didn’t have sex, she immersed herself, wallowing in it until sated. Whew. His body reacted just thinking about it.

  Sharing the pain of their pasts had brought them even closer. He now understood better Priss’s hard terrain, and knew the volcanic explosions that had formed the woman she’d become. He sensed there’d been even more volcanic eruptions back then, each forming a layer of flinty rock, making her shell harder and harder.

  And he wanted to mine them all. To dig down to the soft woman trapped beneath those layers of rock. He hadn’t yet glimpsed that woman but knew she existed by her actions. Priss had reached out to befriend his mother. She took on Nacho, and she may work hard not to show it, but last night he’d seen in her fear and in her anger that she loved her half brother.

  It’s pretty pathetic for a grown man to be jealous of a punk gangster-wannabe.

  Step two in his plan was an even steeper one. He pulled open the glass door to the gym and stood in the two-story glass-walled reception area as the bass beat of the music from the kickboxing class reverberated in his chest.

  He walked to the towering rock wall; his stomach buzzed like a paper bag full of bees.

  Don’t look up. You can do this.

  Reaching out, Adam grasped a handhold level. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and he started.

  “Not without a harness you don’t, Hoss.”

  He turned to Chris Sagway, the owner of the gym.

  “Been watching you eye this for weeks, Adam. Looks like today’s the day, huh?” Chris held out a harness made of webbed straps.

  “You know I’m not going to get high enough to hurt anything if I fall.” Chris had been a year behind Adam in school; he knew about the accident.

  “Now, that’s not the right attitude for rock climbing. You’ve got to aim for the top.” He pointed up. Way up. “See that bell?”

  When Adam raised his eyes, the bottom of his stomach dropped out from under him. Swaying, he looked down, fast. “Yeah.”

  “That’s what you’re shooting for. We’ll have you ringing that bell in no time.” Chris’s confident smile probably reassured most beginners.

  Instead, Adam considered how to construct a semigraceful retreat.

  “Here, let me help you.” Chris showed him how to step in and buckle the harness around his waist, and then tightened the straps around each leg.

  It pulled his shorts tight, displaying his package. “Are you sure this is right?”

  Chris threaded a nylon rope through the loops at the front of the harness, then winked. “Why do you think the women hang around the rock wall?” He laughed when Adam glanced around. “One of the advantages of the sport, dude.”

  The nylon rope snaked up high...somewhere Adam chose not to look.

  Chris snapped the other end to a clip on a device on his own belt. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Adam glanced at the sympathy in Chris’s eyes, then away.

  Dammit, I’m done being the guy that deserves sympathy. Just because I didn’t know that when I finally decided to grab on to life that it would turn out to be a nylon rope...

  “Belay on. Up you go.” Chris tightened the rope. Adam felt a tug at his crotch.

  He tightened his stomach muscles, his sphincter and his resolve. Then reached out for the first handhold.

  Just don’t look up. Or down.

  Fear echoed from the deepest of dark caverns inside him. He focused on slowing his breathing, then pulled himself up. His foot found an outcropping. Blocking the roaring fear in his mind, he reached for the next handhold, a foot above his head. Sweat made his fingers slip and he froze for a few heart-stuttering seconds, trying to decide if he should take his hand off to wipe it on his shorts.

  He decided not to chance it.

  Two handholds later, his focus slipped to the floor, farther away than he’d thought. The room spun.

  The harness jerked and his nose smacked the wall with an explosion of pain. He snatched the lifeline in front of his eyes and held on.

  “No worries, I’ve got you.” Chris lowered Adam until his feet touched the thick pad on the floor.

  He just barely managed not to sink down to kiss the blessed surface. His nose throbbed with the drumbeat of his heart and when he touched it, his fingers came away bloody.

  Chris unhooked himself from the rope and stepped to the reception desk, grabbed a box of tissues and handed a few to Adam.

  He used them to wipe his face, then leaned against the wall and tipped his head back, making sure to keep his eyes closed. He pressed the bridge of his nose to staunch the flow.

  “Ten feet isn’t bad for the first time.” Chris clapped him on the arm.

  “Felt like fifty.”r />
  “Next time you’ll do twenty.”

  He opened his eyes to look at the wall, upside-down, towering over him. It was intimidating and he’d been terrified. But this hadn’t been nearly as scary as scaling the walls of a petite female he knew. And he hadn’t run from that.

  Maybe there’s hope for a coward yet.

  * * *

  “I’M NOT PUTTING down the Tigers, Barn. I’m just pointing out that Cleveland has a deep enough pen to take the pennant,” Porter said.

  It was a typical day at the bar. The regulars perched on their stools, watching the game like vultures waiting for something to die. The last of the lunch crowd lingered over dessert at a table across the so-called dance floor. Priss poured the last drop of Porter’s martini, set the glass in front of him and put the shaker in the sink.

  “Excuse me,” a lady called from the table. “Could I have another cup of coffee?”

  “Sure thing.” Priss lifted a pot from the back of the bar and ducked under the waitress station.

  Where is Gaby?

  “I just don’t know why you guys are so down on the Tigers. Didn’t they wipe the floor with Cleveland last weekend?” Barney’s voice was becoming shrill. At least he always walked from his dump of an apartment to the bar so she didn’t have to worry about him on the road, but still, she wasn’t serving him another beer today.

  She poured coffee for the ladies with the chic clothes and aging, pampered skin, then walked to the kitchen. Gaby usually mentioned when she was taking a lunch break so her absence was odd.

  At the door to the kitchen, Priss paused, and looked through the small window. Gaby sat in the middle of the kitchen on a chair, her worn black orthopedic shoes beside it. Ankle on knee, she cradled her foot.

  Oh, God, her feet.

  The big toe cocked at an unnatural angle toward the toes, which in turn were pushed over. They looked like dominos, falling. Priss glanced at the other foot which, if possible, looked worse. She winced. How did Gaby walk on those all day? Maybe ice would—

  Priss made herself take a step back. Gaby would chew holes in her if she knew Priss had witnessed a moment of weakness.