Their father had died years ago. His parents were elderly and hadn’t taken the girls after foster care stepped in. They, too, had claimed they didn’t feel capable of caring for young kids. Juliette was already gone by then, anyway. Again, their aunt had filled in all the blanks. She’d wanted the girls to have the option of changing their last name.
At the time, Phoebe, especially, had clung to their aunt. Halley had done whatever her sister wanted. They’d given up their father’s name and taken the family last name.
“I didn’t give her your numbers. She knows Phoebe lives in the guesthouse but she doesn’t know where, exactly, you live,” she said to Halley. “But after Meg left, I realized she played me. She asked if I’d get her water, and when I went to the kitchen, I left my cell phone on the table in the living room. I didn’t even think about it until she was gone, but my phone had been moved and she’d been pumping me for information once I refused to write her a check.”
Phoebe now folded her arms across her chest. “But cell phones need passwords.”
“Umm, I didn’t opt to put one on there.” Their aunt’s cheeks flushed red. “All she had to do was type in your first names. I’m sorry.”
“Great,” Phoebe muttered.
With a sigh, Aunt Joy turned and started to walk out of the room. She turned. “I’ll call you,” she said to Halley.
Halley nodded.
After they left, Halley let herself out onto the half-finished deck. Kane wasn’t out back. Maybe he’d left without saying good-bye, not wanting to interrupt her. She decided a walk to the ocean was in order. She walked down the stairs on the deck and strolled to the beach. She sat down on the sand, watching the waves lap against the shore in a rhythmic pattern she’d always found soothing.
In her heart and soul, she knew if her mother surfaced, it wouldn’t be to have a warm reconciliation or to beg forgiveness. She just wished she didn’t find it so hard to accept. As a little girl, she didn’t understand why she’d been sent to a new home with people she didn’t know. Or why she was so often hungry or bullied by girls as she got older. She’d cry because she missed her mom, or at least, as time went by, wished her mom would come rescue her.
By the time her aunt had shown up, Halley’s walls were high. Her anger had come out in spurts, at her aunt for not finding them sooner, at herself for never fitting in. It was always easier to be more introverted, to be alone, than to trust the people around her.
And though she tried more now, as an adult, to be kinder and more forgiving, she was still tied up in knots over the past. It kept her from moving on in any meaningful way. It prevented her from easily giving in to her interest in anything beyond her small, comfortable world.
It kept her from reaching out to Kane.
Chapter Four
Kane had gone to his car to pick up his sander when Halley’s visitors walked to their car. He recognized her sister, both from the bar and from times when she’d come to his garage to have her car serviced. He didn’t immediately know who the older woman was, but he assumed it was Halley’s aunt. She looked enough like Phoebe for him to take an educated guess. They both appeared lost in their own thoughts, frowns on their faces.
He returned to the deck in time to see Halley walking down to the beach, her dress swaying against her legs as she moved. She paused at the water’s edge, looking out onto the horizon. Finally, she sat down on the sand, her feet in the water when it made its way up to shore. Even from behind, he could sense the sadness and turmoil rolling off her hunched shoulders.
He wanted to head down there and comfort her. To ask what had happened and how he could make it better. But he knew they weren’t at the point where she’d confide in him. If he had his way, they would get there. But for now he’d leave her in peace, as hard as it was for him to do nothing when she was clearly upset.
He got back to work, hard hat and safety goggles on. Halley passed by on her way back inside, treating him to a wave. He smiled back but kept up with the job. A short time later, he glanced up to find her waiting to talk to him.
He turned off the sander, removed his glasses then hat, and met her gaze.
“I thought you might be hungry, so I cooked breakfast. It’s a little later than planned because I had visitors, but they’re gone and there’s food on the table. If you want some.”
“You didn’t need to cook for me.” He rose to his feet. “But I’m glad you did. I just need to wash up first.”
She smiled. “Come on in.” They walked inside and she directed him to the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he joined her in the kitchen. What appeared to be egg muffins sat on a plate in the center of the table along with delicious-looking bacon strips and a carafe of orange juice.
“This is amazing. And smells delicious.” He picked up a napkin and placed it on his lap. “I really appreciate you cooking for me.” He took it as a good sign that she wanted him in her house, even if she was just showing her gratitude.
“It was my pleasure. I like cooking. So go ahead. Dig in.” She waved her hand toward the food in the middle.
He served her and then himself. Then he took a bite. Damn, she was a good cook. “Fantastic,” he said of the muffin. Bacon was bacon. Always good.
“Thank you.”
They ate in silence.
“I was named after Halley’s Comet,” she said, taking him by surprise.
“Really?”
“All of us were named after something in the solar system. You see, before my mother went off the rails with drugs and alcohol, she was smart. A science freak. She loved the planets and outer space, so she named my sisters and me that way. I’m obvious—Halley’s Comet. Phoebe is for the outermost moon of Saturn and Juliette for the moon of Uranus. Or so my aunt tells me. I was too young to remember any stories my mother might have told me.”
He barely overcame his shock of her opening up to process the wistfulness in her voice at the mention of a sister he’d never heard of. “Sisters? Juliette?” he asked.
She laid down her fork. Sad eyes met his. “I have two sisters. We have different fathers. I told you about mine and Phoebe’s, who died in combat. Well, right before Phoebe and I were sent to foster care, my mother gave Juliette, who had been two at the time, to her father. For cash.”
He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. He couldn’t have. “Your mother—”
“Sold her daughter. You heard correctly.” She pushed herself up from her seat, grabbed her plate, and strode over to the sink. After putting the dish down, she braced a hand on the counter and dipped her head.
Never in his wildest imagination did he think she’d open up this way. But then, she obviously had no one to confide in other than him. He was grateful. He’d take it and listen, even if his heart hurt for her. He couldn’t imagine a parent that didn’t take care of their children. Even his father, for all his faults, did his best for his kids after Kane’s mother passed.
Sensing she needed him, he walked up behind Halley and touched her shoulder, turning her around to face him. “I’m sorry for what you went through. And it sucks that your mother would go to such awful lengths.”
Her bottom lip trembled and he had the desire to touch the soft flesh. With his fingers. With his mouth. Anything to comfort her.
“It helps,” she murmured. “My mother is back. That’s what my aunt wanted when she came by earlier. To tell me that my mother came by for money when she got out of jail.” She blew out a long breath, the story obviously draining her.
“You’re kidding,” he muttered.
Halley shook her head. Then she went back in time and explained more details about her past, including how old she was when the state took her away because her mother was unfit. Just three fucking years old. His hands curled into fists, disgust and pain filling him on her behalf.
“And in the decade that passed, apparently my mother hooked up with a drug dealer,” she continued. “So when the police raided the apartment and she was home, they bu
sted her for possession and intent to sell.”
He winced. “Jesus.”
She sniffed. “And I’m not finished. She sobered up while incarcerated and called my aunt. She told her she had kids, two who were in foster care, and my aunt claimed us. My mother got out six months ago and came to my aunt for money.”
“Not to see her girls?” he asked, shocked by the story that was her life.
“No. But my aunt hoped my mother would get her act together and come back to see us.” She had settled a hip against the counter. Now she straightened. “My mother came back, all right. And wants more money. Aunt Joy said no and my mother snuck our cell phone numbers from her phone. So I expect to hear from my mother. In fact, I had one hang-up this morning and another one while I was cooking, both from blocked numbers. Phoebe is furious. She wants nothing to do with her.”
“And you?”
He grabbed her hand as she spoke. Her sister was mad and her aunt was probably at a loss over what to do.
But Halley? “What do you want?” he asked. Because that’s what mattered to him. What Halley wanted or needed.
No one had given her that before. No one had been there for her as a child and it was obvious she didn’t let anyone in now. He wanted to be her person.
“I want… to go back and erase the past. Barring that, which I know is impossible, I want my mother to come forward now and have changed. To be the person I missed all those years in foster care,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “Does that mean I need to meet her and see for myself? Do I need to be hit upside the head with a two-by-four, or can I take my aunt’s word for the fact that she’s selfish and only wants money?” She sighed. “When I say it out loud, I know the answer,” she said before he could comment. “I just wish…”
“I know,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I understand dealing with a parent with an addiction. My dad has a thing for gambling. I’m usually the one who steps up to be the adult.”
She shook her head and let out a soft laugh. “That’s a pretty crappy thing for us to have in common.”
He chuckled. “Well, it’s something. But I do think you should follow your heart and not what your sister or aunt thinks is right.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“For what?”
“For listening. For not judging.”
“I’m happy to be there for you. Any time.”
“I guess you earned another home-cooked meal,” she said, smiling brighter now.
“You’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll try to come by after work this week depending on how busy we get at the garage.”
He grasped her shoulders and leaned in close, inhaling a hint of a fruity scent in her hair. One that went straight to his dick and made him hard. He wanted to kiss her pretty pink lips, to slide his tongue inside her sweet mouth, but after she’d unloaded all her pain, to act on his desire would be taking advantage of her. And that he wouldn’t do.
There would be another time. He was sure of it.
* * *
The week had been a hectic one at the garage, and by the time Friday rolled around, Kane was exhausted. Although he’d have liked to make it over to Halley’s one or two of those evenings, they were overloaded with repairs and he’d been working late. He needed to hire another mechanic and he’d have to get on that soon.
And though the part for her SUV had arrived, he’d been out on a service call when she’d come in to pay and pick up the vehicle. He was left wondering how she was doing, if she’d heard from her mother, and whether or not she’d thought about him at all. Yeah, he had it bad. Something he wasn’t used to at all.
He’d gone out for an hour last night but he hadn’t run into Halley at the Blue Wall and he wasn’t surprised. She’d been dragged there by her sister last week. Maybe he could convince her to join him one night… and actually enjoy herself.
Early Saturday morning, his phone woke him, startling him out of sleep. He rolled over and grabbed his cell.
“Hello?” he asked, without checking who was calling first.
“Hi, Kane.” He recognized his sister’s voice.
He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “Why are you waking me at the crack of dawn?” he asked with a yawn.
“Is Dad with you?”
“What?” That woke Kane up fast and he sat upright in bed. “Why would he be here when he lives with you?” he asked, a sinking feeling in his gut.
He looked around his room and saw his jeans on the floor. “Didn’t he babysit last night?” He always watched Nicky when Andrea worked her shift at the Blue Wall.
“No. He said he wanted to go out with Walter and Pete,” she said, naming their father’s oldest friends. One of whom liked a good card game as much as Joe.
He tucked the phone in his ear and climbed out of bed, reaching for his pants. “You think he pulled an all-nighter?” Whenever their dad would go to a high-stakes poker game and drag himself home late, their mother would say he’d pulled an all-nighter.
“I don’t know but he hasn’t checked in and I’m worried.”
He pulled on his jeans and grabbed a shirt from a drawer. “Don’t worry. I’ll go to his usual haunts. Donny has a place above his pub. He runs games out of there.”
“Thanks, Kane.”
“Don’t thank me. It’s what I do. I’ll call you when I find him.” He disconnected the call.
He finished getting ready, ran downstairs, wishing he had time for coffee, grabbed his keys, and headed out. He stopped first at Walter’s, hoping the old man was home with his wife, but no luck. Edna said he hadn’t come home last night, but unlike his father, he’d called. Told her he was feeling lucky because his palms were itchy, an old superstition that meant he was coming into money. Edna was used to her husband doing his own thing and didn’t think anything of it. The only issue was Walter hadn’t said where he was going.
Which was fine. Kane could guess.
He arrived at Donny’s Pub and headed around back, walking up the stairs to the back room. He banged on the door hard, and when no one answered, he banged again.
“Hold your horses,” a voice inside yelled.
Kane leaned against the doorframe. The door swung open wide and Donny, eyes bloodshot, met his gaze. Donny, who had inherited the bar from his father but wasn’t as smart, gripped the door. His salt-and-pepper hair stood on end. “Joey’s boy,” he said.
Kane pushed the door open, causing Donny to stumble back. “Where’s my father?”
“Easy.” He held up both hands. “Joe, your kid’s here.” He looked at Kane. “Back there.”
He gestured to the living room, where his father was passed out on one side of a beat-up old sofa with holes in the fabric. Walter was on an old piece-of-shit chair and ottoman, also out cold.
“Dad.” Kane slapped his father’s cheek. “Dad. Wake up.”
Walter could wake up and head home on his own time.
“What the—” Joe shook his head and pushed himself to a sitting position on the sofa. “How’d you find me?”
“Where else would you be, Dad?” Kane asked wearily, despite the fact that he’d barely just woken up himself.
“I had a good night,” he said, patting his full pockets, as if winning excused him from falling back into old, bad habits.
“Did Walter?”
His father laughed, the sound dry and rusty. “Lost his shirt.”
Kane shook his head. “So much for superstition,” he muttered.
“Get yourself together and let’s go.” He assumed Walter had driven and could get himself home.
He walked out in silence and got into the car, waiting for his father to climb into the passenger seat of his Camaro. Finally, they headed home. Kane drummed the fingers of one hand on the wheel. His anger had been building since his sister called and told him his father was missing. It had only grown, his father’s glib pronouncement of having a good night feeding his exasperation.
“Did you even think to call Andrea?
She was worried when she realized you didn’t come home last night.” He glanced to the side.
His father’s eye twitched. “I meant to but the game started and I got sidetracked.”
Kane blew out a sharp breath. “Yeah? Well, it’s damned selfish if you ask me. And didn’t you promise to cut out the gambling?”
He’d never been able to get his father into any kind of addiction treatment program. Even at his lowest, when he’d lost his wife and was in such serious debt that he’d had to take a second mortgage on the house, he’d refused to go.
With a groan, his father shifted in his seat, facing him. “I should have called. I’ll apologize. But I won. She’ll be happy.”
“Trust me, she won’t be,” Kane muttered. He gripped the wheel tight in his hand. “Dad, you cannot run off and piss away money. You won’t always win. You know this.” He reined in his frustration, because when it came to his father and this subject, he never won.
After dropping his dad off at home, Kane headed over to Halley’s. Jackson had assured him he had things under control at the garage, so he had the day to himself.
A day to handle his side job and catch up with Halley. After his shitty morning, he needed something to offset the frustration his father caused, and being around Halley helped to soften him inside and make him feel better.
* * *
The sun shone over the ocean, reflecting off the water, as Halley looked out the window from her seat in front of the easel. Her work was always dark, intense, suiting the mood she usually found herself in, but again today, streaks of lighter colors found their way onto the canvas. She didn’t know what to make of the change but she didn’t fight the muse.
Lost in work, she was startled when the sound of a drill cut into her concentration.
“Kane,” she murmured, her stomach fluttering with sudden awareness. Putting down her brush, she rose and walked into the kitchen. As she washed up, cleaning the paint off her hands and arms, she thought back to when she’d seen him last week.
Since then, she kept returning to their conversation. She was shocked at how much she’d revealed to Kane. She never confided in anyone, let alone about her family history, but he’d been there right after an upsetting conversation with her aunt and sister, he’d wanted to listen, and God, had she needed an ear. An objective point of view about a subject she could never be detached about.
Fearless (Rosewood Bay Series Book 1) Page 5
