It also struck him in that moment that he’d never deleted a single email exchange between the two of them. He’d deleted lots of other ones, but not hers, and he knew why. It was because they were so personal and meant so much, and often when he was having a bad day or week or dealing with feeling like no one gave a shit about him, not on a deep level anyway, all he’d have to do would be to open up one of her emails and read through it and then he’d feel her love all over again.
She said she didn’t care about him, had only been using him. He now knew that was bullshit and he just had to call her on her bluff.
After another few minutes, he glanced at the time and realized she’d been gone for close to an hour. He knew then that she wasn’t coming back until she was sure he’d vacated her room. She was hiding out. Or maybe she was exploring her feelings to either confirm what she really knew was true or trying to convince herself that she’d meant all the awful things she said.
He needed to find her, and there was no reason to delay. He needed to be the one to convince her, and what better way than with her own words?
He had no idea where to look for her. Here, her own room, would normally be the first place, but maybe the pool and sauna? Maybe the deck? He was going to find Katie first. Maybe Heather had sought out her other close friend and was baring her soul. That made the most sense.
Kiefer sat up and walked to the door. He had to find her, had to help her realize they could do this all together.
* * *
Heather spent the better part of an hour getting her emotions under control. Yeah, she was no fool. She knew what that meant. It meant she really did care for Kiefer—loved him back, even—but that was all the more reason to put a stop to it right now…because she would hurt him eventually. That much she knew.
She splashed cool water on her face, her resolve intact. She had to prove to herself—and Kiefer—that she was no good and that he deserved better, and she only had to find a willing conspirator.
She examined herself in the mirror. Jesus. Yeah, she still looked chubby to herself but she’d learned to focus past that by zeroing in on the details. Her cheeks were pink from crying, but her eyes weren’t as bad as she’d thought they would be. They were a little glassy but that was okay. The cool water on her face had helped her skin to calm down from her emotional outburst. She ran more water and cupped a hand under the faucet, then sipped a little and looked up again.
She couldn’t rely on her own eyes. She believed she was all right and repeated the mantra that her therapist had taught her a long time ago: I am a beautiful creature, and others see me for what I really am. I must believe what they see.
She sucked in a deep breath through her nostrils and then opened the bathroom door. Checking the hallway for signs of life, she decided the house was pretty quiet. She didn’t know where Kiefer had gone, but she was going to avoid him if at all possible. That meant she’d be tripping stealthily through the house, looking before moving forward.
As she walked past the kitchen, she heard someone in there stirring something on the stove, and she guessed it was Katie getting dinner ready, no doubt. She saw some guys on the deck, Riley included, and decided to avoid them. Kiefer could very well be part of the gang. So she tiptoed toward the front door after first glancing throughout the expanse of the great room to determine that no one was in there before crossing the space.
She was almost there. Once outside, she’d sneak to her car and pray she still had the spare key in the magnetic box on the underside. Sure, keeping a key there was stupid, but Heather had lost her keys enough to need it. Yeah, if she still relied on her daddy, she could get a new car anytime she wanted, or she could call on the locksmith whenever her heart desired, but she’d completely cut herself off from her father two years ago and there was no turning back. Using him had never hurt him like she’d always hoped, and so she had to cut him out of her life. It was symbolic, really, and had been meant to be a way of letting it go. It had never completely worked, though, and she wondered if she’d ever be able to stop hating the man, despising him for his coldness.
Yes. The door didn’t creak or make a noise at all, and she was slow in opening it. When she got outside, she pulled it toward herself quietly. She turned around and noticed that the sun was lower in the sky, heading toward evening. As she let out a breath, she noticed she was not alone. The bassist from the band—Mickey?—was smoking a cigarette just off the front porch.
Hmm. Maybe he would do. No need to go back to the bar. He turned his eyes to her just as she was assessing him. He was nice looking—light brown hair, long, dark eyes. He wore a few rings that made him look bad ass—one was a skull ring—and he had a mustache and goatee that wasn’t unlike Kiefer’s. He had a sleeve too, but she couldn’t see it right now because he was wearing a black leather jacket.
Yeah, he’d definitely do. She licked her lips. She knew all the right moves to get a guy to fuck her, but she had to warm him up a little first. “Mickey, right?”
Her biggest challenge would be keeping him quiet enough that the people on the side of the house on the deck wouldn’t hear their conversation, but she could tell this guy was an easy mark. She felt bad that he was going to be her next victim, but the best part was that she knew how to make it worth his while.
* * *
Going to Katie had to have been one of the most brilliant things Kiefer had ever done in his life. She’d equipped him with enough ammunition, along with what he already had, to take down any stupid argument Heather might continue to fling at him.
The problem was he couldn’t find her anywhere—not in the pool area, not in the library, not even in her room after checking again. And all the bathrooms were empty. She wasn’t hanging with everyone on the deck (and she hadn’t been helping Katie when he’d asked for her help). He was considering going back up the hill to see if maybe she’d decided to take another walk back where they’d been earlier.
But he shook his head. He didn’t think that was likely. He decided he’d maybe join everyone on the deck and talk to her when she decided to show up again. She had to come out eventually, right?
His friends greeted him and Johnny even threw a cold root beer at him. He started to open it when Sage asked, “Dude, what’s up, man?”
Goddammit, he’d never been good at hiding his emotions—good or bad, they showed on his face. He’d vowed to never play poker for that very reason. A good part of that game was masking it all, and his face just wouldn’t cooperate with him. Well, maybe he could avoid a direct answer by asking a question. “Nothing. I don’t suppose you’ve seen Heather recently.” Yeah, she hadn’t wanted anyone to know that the two of them were involved and a question such as that would likely give it away, but he didn’t give a shit anymore. He wasn’t going to hide it any longer, and maybe that too would help her come clean with the emotions he knew she was feeling too.
Sage shook his head. “Nope. Not since earlier today.”
Johnny looked concerned, almost sad, but he said, “Hey, come here a sec.”
Kiefer didn’t like that, not one bit. In fact, his stomach felt like it was sinking, but he had to know. He slunk over to Johnny, trying to hold onto a shred of hope but fearing what his mentor was about to tell him. “Yeah?”
Johnny put an arm around him and led him down the deck farther, away from everyone else’s ears. “Heather the one you wrote that song about?”
Kiefer swallowed. Was it that obvious? “Yeah.”
“Goddammit.”
“Just tell me, J. C.”
The guitarist frowned but nodded. “It might be nothing, but I can see it in your face, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let someone tear you apart.” He swallowed. “I saw her and Mickey walking to the garage a little bit ago. Like I said, it might be nothing. Maybe they wanted a beer and had to sneak it since Riley’s back.”
That sinking feeling only grew worse. After what Heather had told him, he suspected he knew what was going on. That made it all t
he more reason for him to go to her, to tell her he knew the truth—her truth, the one she was afraid to even admit to herself. He could brave whatever he was going to find in order to get through to her. “Yeah, maybe that’s it…but I need to talk to her.”
Johnny looked resigned to it and nodded his head. “I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks, man.” Kiefer dug deep and pulled out some courage. Somehow, he just knew what he was going to find but he had to witness it himself anyway. He already knew what Heather was up to. He knew it because he was starting to think he knew her better than she knew herself. Now that she’d let her secrets out of the bag, he understood so much more about her. He understood all the self-deprecating humor she’d thrown at herself, as well as some of her fears. All the little comments she’d made that he’d thought had been jokes were likely things she really felt and disguised as comedy.
He started walking slowly at first but then increased his gait as he resolved to do it. He had to save Heather from herself. Yeah, he could let her go through with it, but then she’d feel even worse. He was afraid it would cause her to go into a tailspin.
And it would hurt too.
As he got closer to the garage, he listened with intent. No moans of pleasure yet, but that didn’t mean shit. And Heather was Mickey’s type—female. He didn’t require much more than that. Well, the guy liked big tits, so Heather had an advantage there as well.
The garage bay doors were closed, and Kiefer wasn’t surprised. He placed his hand on the doorknob. Goddamn, this was turning out to be harder than he’d expected. He let out the air in his lungs, drew in another one, and then turned the knob, pushing the door inward.
He might have expected to find his friend and Heather mid-coitus, but actually seeing them making their way there was something quite different. Mickey was up close, holding Heather by her hips, her back against the refrigerator, and she was unbuttoning her blouse. Yeah, there were three beer cans on Katie’s red car too, so they’d primed themselves with a little alcohol. Mickey was moving his face toward Heather’s neck and Kiefer felt a sudden surge of rage and jealousy, in spite of the fact that he’d determined not to go all caveman. What pissed him off more was that they didn’t even notice him when he’d opened the door.
He scowled and pulled the door behind him hard, so hard that the dust on the floor by his feet swirled and arced upward. The noise was perfect, because it got their attention. Mickey looked up and Heather turned her head, her eyes wide. Mickey seemed confused and then gave Kiefer a look his friend had seen more than once on the tour bus and backstage—it was a look that said, Amscray, dude. I’m getting my rocks off here and I’ll be done in a fucking second. It was followed by a second look he’d seen multiple times as well, and that one said, Fine, you fucking perv. I’m gonna fuck this chick and go ahead and watch if you need to. Mickey pulled Heather closer then, having communicated to his bandmate through eye contact, and even though Kiefer’s blood was still boiling, he wasn’t mad at his friend.
Even Heather, he couldn’t be angry at her. She had a look of defiance on her face, one he’d never seen, and that told him all he needed to say. “Heather, I know you have a self-destructive streak. I know you’re taking your hate for your father out on yourself, but you’ve got to let it go.” He swallowed, because he felt like he was going to throw up, and of all fucking times. He shook his head. “You’re pushing me away because you know I can see through you. You’re afraid of what you feel and you’re afraid of what I feel, but I’m asking you to trust me and take that journey with me. Just do it.” He blinked and swallowed again. At least Mickey had had the decency to pause once more in his proceedings, and Kiefer could tell by the look on his face that his friend wasn’t quite sure what to believe. He’d let Mickey finish what he’d started and then deal with the situation later, but he felt better having called Heather on her self-loathing bullshit.
“Anyway, I’ll leave you two to your business. Just…find me later, Heather.”
He turned and left the garage, and—even though he knew he’d survive and he’d forgive her this indiscretion—he felt once more cold and alone…and questioned if he could spend the rest of his life this way, because he didn’t know that he could take it.
Chapter Nineteen
OH. IT WAS something Heather knew she had to do…but she just couldn’t. Not when she saw the look on Kiefer’s face.
More than that, though, had been his words. Holy shit. Really? He was going to let her finish what she’d started here and then talk to her?
Mickey had cooled off and had put a little distance between them. “The fuck was that all about? You tryin’ to play me against my brother?”
Heather closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. I was…trying to prove something to myself.”
“Honey, you got a nice body and a cute personality, but I’m not tappin’ something that belongs to my bro. Not gonna happen, no matter what.”
That had been the plan, but she couldn’t do it now, either. She couldn’t hurt Kiefer, even if it had seemed like the best plan. The problem, though? He’d acted at first like he could work through it anyway, but…the last look he’d had on his face—he’d seemed forlorn, ready to give up, defeated, and—she needed to talk to him. Now.
“No, you’re right. Sorry to get you worked up. I gotta go.”
“Whatever.” Heather frowned at him and buttoned her blouse back up. This guy was a little too rough around the edges for her anyway. Although that might have made him a nice fuck partner, it would have been a temporary fix at best—like her quick sexual encounters had always been. She didn’t need hollow. She had to get rid of the empty bullshit, the meaningless stuff that made her feel great for an hour or a night but ultimately just contributed to her deep-seated negative feelings. Her therapist had warned her about that and why she needed to leave it behind her.
She had the tools. She’d practiced using them so many times before, but—like an addict—she’d find a way to talk herself back into the bad behavior for the temporary rewards. She had to find a way to give it up, leave it behind for Kiefer. And if he was no longer able to offer more like he had earlier, she had to—at the very least—apologize and ask if they could continue their friendship.
She left the garage. Where would he have gone? She started walking quickly. She needed to talk to him now. She was afraid that, the more time that passed, the less likely he would be to forgive her for being so damn stupid.
As she made her way through the front part of the house, she looked back on the deck. No Kiefer. She stopped by the kitchen and asked Katie if she’d seen him.
Katie turned from the stove. “Um, a while ago…and, uh…”
“I need to find him. Now. Do you know where he is?”
“No, but—”
“Katie, my love, I can tell you want to tell me something, and you can later, but I need to find Kiefer first.”
“I—”
Heather left her friend. Katie had looked guilty, but Heather knew that nothing Katie could have said would have changed what Heather was going to do. She needed to talk to him, and she could find her friend later to smooth whatever she was agonizing over.
She could feel tears streaming down her face as she raced down the hall. She ran to her room and flung the door open. “Kiefer?” No answer. She bolted from the room, not bothering to shut the door, and continued down the hall. She started calling his name. “Kiefer? Where are you?” She didn’t know which room was his, but she knew no one else was in the house, because she’d seen them on the deck. She knocked on all the bedroom doors as she made her way down the hall, continuing to call his name, but nothing. She passed by all the other mysterious rooms until she came to the pool. He wouldn’t be in there, would he? But she opened the door anyway.
The sun was behind the mountain now, but it wasn’t dark outside yet, and the dim light flooded the room. And there he was, his legs hanging over the edge of the pool where he was dipping his feet in, the bo
ttom part of his jeans wet. He was holding a notebook, just staring at the page. “Kiefer!”
He looked up but said nothing. He looked unbelievably sad. She ran to him. She could hear one of her nannies’ voices in her head, warning her to not run by the pool at their house when she was growing up, but she knew her family hadn’t cared if she’d fallen. No, they would have cared that they would have had to take time out of their day to have her wounds cared for. But Kiefer was different…and Kiefer’s heart was more important than any damage she could inflict on her body.
She reached him and got down on her knees, taking his face in her hands. “Oh, Kiefer. I’m so sorry. I—we—Mickey and me…we didn’t actually do anything.”
“What was that then?”
“Well…I was going to…I wanted to—” God, she couldn’t even say it. She’d been such a shit.
He nodded. “You were trying to hurt me, trying to push me away.”
“Yeah.”
“But you guys didn’t?”
“No. I think Mickey hates me now…”
Kiefer shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”
“I just—I…” The tears were streaming then, but she had to say it. “Yeah, I was trying to push you away because I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve love, and you deserve better.”
“Bullshit, Heather. You deserve to be happy, just like anybody else on this planet. And I know you…and I love you, and if you promise to fight your—addiction or whatever it is, I promise to stand by you.”
That was it. The tears were uncontrollable. That this man—this incredibly sensitive and sweet soul—was willing to help her climb the insurmountable mountain of her madness beside her told her everything she’d ever felt for and about him was true. She could trust him. She’d never felt like any man was worthy of her trust before but Kiefer…he was gold. He could be her everything, and that was what she wanted and needed. She tried to talk but the words wouldn’t come out between her sobs. He knew, though. He pulled her close and held her as the tears fell, until she was swiping at her cheeks. Then she felt his hand underneath her chin, urging her face up to his, and when she looked up, he kissed her, a sweet kiss that hooked her soul and reinforced the knowledge that her heart belonged to him.
Seal All Exits (Tangled Web #3) Page 16
