Deadlier than the Male

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Deadlier than the Male Page 5

by Sharon Sala


  “Oh, Lord,” she moaned, as her feet hit the floor.

  With less than thirty minutes to dress and get to the church, she dug a makeup bag from her things, shook out the black dress she had packed, then went into the bathroom.

  At first glance she looked like she felt—exhausted and sleep-deprived. However, she might have left Stars Crossing with her tail between her legs, but she wasn’t coming back the same way. She’d grown up and, in the process, grown tougher. If people were going to talk about her—which she fully expected—she intended to look her best, and that black dress and the high heels she’d brought to go with it weren’t going to hurt.

  There was no need to pretend grief for her father’s passing. Her grief had been spent years ago upon realizing that she just didn’t matter to either of her parents.

  But, on the off chance that Mack Brolin was anywhere inside that church, she wanted him to see her for who she was now—a strong and vital woman.

  By choice, Mack was sitting at the back of the church. If Haley did show up, he needed time to get his emotions in order before facing her. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, not the least of which was, I’m sorry.

  The family had just been seated, and the pastor was about to announce the first hymn, when the church doors opened, sending in a blast of cold air.

  All eyes except the widow’s turned as the door slammed shut, and the gasp that came afterward was so loud even Lena Shore turned to look.

  The last thing she had expected to see on this day was the woman walking down the aisle. All Lena could think was, How did Haley find out?

  Every stitch of clothing Haley was wearing had been chosen with one thing in mind: to show her miserable excuse for a family that not only was she fine, she was thriving.

  She knew her height was to her advantage, and with the three-inch black heels she was wearing, she was more than six feet tall. Her long-sleeved black dress buttoned all the way up the front, coming to a halt at a V-neck that covered her shapely breasts—high enough not to be racy, but low enough to accentuate what she’d been blessed with.

  The lanky girl Haley had been was now a woman grown, with the body to match. Her breasts accentuated a slim, well-toned body. She’d left her long, dark hair loose in a cascade of soft waves. The only splash of color was on her lips—those Angelina Jolie lips—which she’d painted fire-engine red.

  She didn’t look to the right or the left as she moved, because her gaze was fixed upon her mother, who had risen to her feet and was standing at the end of the aisle, as if daring her to come any closer.

  From the look on her mother’s face, Haley immediately knew that her appearance was a shock.

  So it wasn’t you who sent the letter. No matter. I’m here, anyway.

  Lena was so shocked she couldn’t move.

  When Haley reached the pews where the family was sitting, no one moved over for her to sit. The old Haley would have turned tail and run. But not this one.

  “Move over, Uncle Saul,” she said shortly.

  And despite the ripple of shock that went through her family, her mother’s brother moved.

  Haley sat without once looking at her mother again.

  Dumbstruck as to what to do next, Lena had but one option. She turned around and resumed her own seat.

  The preacher cleared his throat.

  And the service began.

  The moment people recognized Haley, they turned to look at Mack. He felt their stares but wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of knowing how dumbstruck he felt.

  That grainy newspaper photo hadn’t done her justice. His childhood sweetheart had turned into a knockout.

  Even though it had been ten years—even though the woman who’d just walked down that aisle was as far removed from the girl he’d loved as she could be—he knew he’d done the right thing. No matter how this turned out, there were things he needed to say to Haley Shore.

  Chapter 4

  T he funeral was a blur. At first Haley’s heart had been beating so loudly that she hadn’t heard a word the preacher said; then she began to realize that she could feel her mother’s anger as if it was a living, breathing thing.

  And Lena was seething, not only angry that Haley had shown up unannounced, but that the day was no longer about Lena the widow. It had turned into “the prodigal daughter returns.”

  Haley’s first “welcome home” moment came when the congregation began moving down the aisle past the family, passing the casket to pay their respects on their way out the door. Someone squeezed her shoulder, then leaned down and kissed the side of her cheek.

  “So sorry, honey,” the woman said, and then quickly moved past.

  Haley belatedly realized that it was Retta—obviously pregnant and with shorter hair, but once her best friend, just the same. By the time the church had emptied and the only ones left were the family, a good dozen of the congregation had paused to either give her a hug or a kiss, or shake her hand. When her mother suddenly turned and glared at her, Haley didn’t even notice. Her eyes were blurred with unshed tears.

  Then she heard the doors shut and realized they were giving the family some private time before removing the casket and taking it to the cemetery. She wasn’t certain what was going to happen, but there was one thing she knew for sure: this time, she wasn’t going to run.

  Lena didn’t even pretend to be polite. The moment there was no one left inside the sanctuary but the family, she stood and pointed at Haley.

  “What do you think you’re doing, coming back here now, looking like the slut you obviously are?”

  Haley unfolded her long length from the pew and stepped out into the aisle. She glanced at her mother, then arched an eyebrow.

  “Well, I obviously came to my father’s funeral. As to how I look, the DNA came from you and Daddy, so if you don’t like my looks, you have only yourselves to blame…Mommy dearest.”

  Lena was shocked. Where had that cold sarcasm come from? Finally she managed to sputter, “What are you doing here?”

  Haley glanced at the others—her extended family of aunts, uncles and cousins, who’d always used her mother’s behavior as a guide to how they should treat her, as well.

  “Oddly enough, I got a letter informing me of the services. I assumed it was from you. My bad.”

  Then she picked up her purse, turned her back and started walking up the aisle toward the exit.

  “Where are you going?” Lena screamed.

  Haley paused, then stopped and turned around. “Why, Mother, I didn’t think you cared.”

  Lena doubled up her fists and started toward Haley when Saul suddenly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.

  “Let it go, Lena. This is neither the time nor the place.”

  Lena shrugged him off, but she couldn’t stop her anger from boiling over.

  “You have no business being here,” she accused Haley. “You ran away before your brother was even buried. The brother you killed. You don’t belong to this family anymore.”

  Haley sighed. “Mother, Mother, you sound like a broken record. As for Stewart’s death…that responsibility falls on your head.”

  All the blood drained from Lena’s face. Even the others began to mutter beneath their breath, thinking Haley had gone too far.

  “That’s not true. If you hadn’t been with that damned Brolin—”

  “No!” Haley said, interrupting her before she could finish. “That’s not true. If you’d just let it go, Stewart would still be alive.”

  Lena reeled as if Haley had just dealt her a physical blow, then braced herself against a pew.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s simple, really. Graduation night was going to be our goodbye to each other. Mack was going to California. I was going in the opposite direction. Our lives were moving apart. We had agreed to give ourselves two years to see what happened. If we still felt the same way afterward, then we’d see where it led.” Haley shrugged. “But we didn’t get
the chance for that to play out, did we? You had to interfere, like you always did, trying to control everything and everyone with your crazy, mixed-up hate.”

  Lena shivered, imagining Stewart’s ghost had just walked up behind her.

  “I didn’t know. You should have—”

  “What? Confided in you…my dear, understanding mother who always had my best interests at heart? Give me a break. You showed your true colors the night Stewart died. My conception was an accident. You never wanted me and made damn sure…my whole life…that I knew it. No, Mother, you’re the reason Stewart is dead. Not me.”

  Haley walked out of the church without looking back.

  Lena moaned, then stumbled as she turned to face her family. She couldn’t read their expressions but felt as if they were judging her, just the same. Drowning in guilt, she pushed past her brother, then staggered toward the casket.

  The preacher, coming back in, in the wake of Haley’s departure, saw her falter and rushed forward, but not in time to catch her. Lena Shore had just fainted.

  Haley walked out of the church just as a peal of thunder rolled overhead.

  Perfect. Heaven was going to unload. Might as well. No one else seemed inclined to cry.

  She headed toward her car without looking up, anxious to get back to her motel and away from Stars Crossing as fast as she could go. As far as she was concerned, this had been a wasted trip. Her mother was still a nightmare, and Mack had been nowhere in sight.

  She was unlocking her car door when she heard someone call her name. Before she had a chance to turn around, the first drops of rain began to fall. She jumped inside, quickly slamming the door, then started the engine and drove away without looking back. The way she was feeling right now, the last thing she wanted was to revisit old times.

  It wasn’t until she was back on Main Street and headed toward the motel that she realized someone was coming up fast behind her. She heard a horn honk, and then saw that the driver was flashing his headlights, obviously wanting her to stop. She tried to see who was driving, but the rain was coming down too hard, and she wasn’t pulling over. The whole scenario was too reminiscent of her last ride with Mack, when Stewart had been following them. For all she knew, it was one of her crazy family, trying to get back at her for what she’d said to her mother. Unnerved, she kept on driving. When lightning flashed just off to her right, she flinched, then drove through a light as it was turning from yellow to red.

  By the time she looked in the rearview mirror again, the street was clear. Whoever had been behind her had probably caught the red light. Good.

  Moments later she took the turn into the motel parking lot and drove up as close to the outer stairs as she could get. She grabbed her umbrella and dropped her keys in her purse.

  “Here goes nothing,” she said, opening the door and popping the umbrella as she got out.

  Rain was peppering her feet and legs as she made a run for the stairs. Even in heels, her long legs made short work of the distance.

  As soon as she’d reached the sheltered walkway, she closed the umbrella and headed up the stairs.

  She was digging her room key out of her purse when she realized someone was running up the stairs and calling out her name.

  Suddenly she panicked. Her daddy had beaten her to within an inch of her life. She wasn’t about to wait and see if one of her uncles was going for a repeat. Without waiting to see who appeared, she jammed the key in the lock and dashed inside. She tried to slam the door, but she was too late. It flew inward, narrowly missing her head.

  In a panic, she ran backward, then froze as the silhouette of a very large man appeared in the doorway. Before she had time to panic, he spoke her name. “Haley…it’s me.”

  Even though she couldn’t see his face, she knew that voice.

  Mack.

  She supposed it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that his shoulders were wider and he was taller than she remembered. But why had he been chasing her? Was she about to get another dose of ten-year-old rage?

  Mack had been watching the side door of the church where the family was supposed to exit when all of a sudden he saw Haley come out the front of the church and stride toward her car. From the set of her shoulders and tension in her body, he’d guessed that she and her mother had locked horns yet again.

  He’d groaned. That was his fault.

  “Haley! Wait!”

  But at the same moment he’d called out, thunder had pealed, followed by the first drops of rain.

  “Damn it,” he’d muttered, and jumped in his car.

  It was pretty obvious Haley wasn’t going to the cemetery, and from the expression on her face, she sure as hell wasn’t going to her mother’s house afterward.

  He sped out of the parking lot after her and almost caught up with her at a light, but she sailed through it on yellow and kept on going. Mack smiled grimly, thinking some things never changed. Haley had always driven fast.

  The second the red light changed to green, he accelerated through the intersection. There were only two motels in Stars Crossing, and only one on this side of town, so that had to be where she was staying. Still, when he drove into the parking lot and saw her running for the stairs, he began to relax.

  “Bingo,” he said, and wheeled into the space beside her car. She was already on the second floor when he got to the stairs. “Haley! Haley! Wait up!” he yelled, and took the steps two at a time.

  He turned the corner just as she opened her room door and started inside. He leaped forward and caught the door just before it shut in his face. But it ricocheted off the flat of his hand and swung inward with a thud. He didn’t realize until he saw her face that he had scared her.

  “Haley…it’s me.”

  He saw her shudder, and then all the tension slid out of her at once. That beautiful mouth tilted up at the corners as she hit him with a perfect dose of Haley sarcasm.

  “You could have knocked,” she drawled.

  “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Thought it might be some more of my family out to string me up.”

  He was still trying to come to terms with what had happened to her the night of the wreck. Just the thought of her father beating her like that set off every protective gene in his body.

  “Over my dead body,” he muttered.

  The wind gusted suddenly, and even though he was standing beneath the shallow overhang, it blew rain down the back of his neck. He shivered.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Are you going to read me the riot act?”

  “Hell, no. I have something to confess.”

  Haley frowned, then stepped back.

  “So, come in…and shut the door. I’m freezing.”

  Mack stepped inside, then took off his coat and hung it on the knob, while Haley hung hers on the back of a chair.

  “Sorry, it’s dripping,” he said.

  She heard him, but her focus was on how he looked, not what he was saying. He was lean, but obviously strong. His arms and shoulders strained at the fabric of his white shirt, while his gray wool slacks clung damply to his long, muscular legs. From the way he’d moved, his injuries had obviously healed.

  “Listen…” he began, then stopped.

  Haley blinked. “I’m listening.”

  “I’m the one who sent you the letter.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “You? Why?”

  He stepped back to his coat, pulled a packet out of an inside pocket and handed it to her.

  “Because of these.”

  Haley gasped as she recognized the writing.

  “My letters? I don’t understand. I wrote those ten years ago. You didn’t answer me then. What could you possibly have to say now?”

  “My mother died last month.”

  Haley frowned. “I’m sorry,” she said, and realized that she meant it. She remembered how close his family had been. “My condolences to your father, but what does one have to do with the othe
r?”

  It was Mack’s turn to be surprised. “Haley, Dad’s been dead ten years. He died the week after you left.”

  Haley was shocked. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry…. But I still don’t understand what those letters have to do—”

  “I’m a building contractor. I’m redoing the family home so we can sell it. I never saw these letters before in my life until I found them in my mother’s things. That was a little over a month ago. They were tied together with that yellow ribbon…unopened.”

  Haley gasped. “You mean you—”

  “Never saw them? Never knew you’d written to me? Right. What I’d been told was that you were angry with me because your brother died. Then, when you found out I couldn’t play football, they said you didn’t want anything to do with a loser and left town.”

  Pain shot through her like a knife as she remembered that night in intensive care, begging his family to let her see him.

  “That’s a lie. They told me you didn’t want anything to do with me…that you blamed me for the loss of your athletic career.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Mack muttered, then shook his head. “After I found the letters, I confronted my sisters, who finally told me the truth. After that, I wanted to find you, but it had been so long I was afraid you’d moved on.” He looked down at her hands. Although they were without rings, that wasn’t proof.

  “Have you? Moved on?”

  Haley swallowed past the knot in her throat.

  “I have a career. I have friends. But nobody sleeps in my bed but me.”

  Mack groaned. He couldn’t stand it any longer. Within seconds, he had her in his arms.

  “I’m sorry, Haley, I’m so sorry. For everything that happened to you…for everything you went through alone. I didn’t know. I swear to God, I didn’t know.”

  Suddenly the tears spilled and ran over. The tenderness in his voice, coupled with the warmth and strength of his embrace, was too much to ignore.

  Mack held her tight, trying not to let anger at what they’d lost impact the chance they had now. He cupped her face, leaned down and brushed his lips across her mouth, then across her cheeks, tasting tears.

  “God…sweetheart…don’t cry. Don’t cry. You’re killing me with these tears.”

 

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