Wrecked and Yours Trilogy: A Second Chance Love Story

by CeeCee James

  Drawing air slowly through her nose, Miranda held it for the count of four, then exhaled slowly through her mouth. Just got to get through this. Do it for Charlotte. Stand up for both of us now.

  The front door opened and they could hear him calling through the house. “Honey? Where are you?”

  Mrs. Temple cleared her throat. Her first word came out with a croak. “I—I’m out here.”

  After a few moments the back door opened.

  Uncle Vince.

  His dark hair flecked with grey, he smiled at the sight of his wife. He glanced at the sisters, not recognizing them. His gaze sharpened. “What’s this about?”

  “These are your nieces.” Mrs. Temple indicated the sisters with her hand.

  The silence between the four adults intensified. Vince looked at his wife again, before loosening his tie. “Why don’t we go inside for a moment?”

  Mrs. Temple’s thin shoulders slumped in indecision. Her hand fluttered at her neck and tugged at the front of her blouse. “Maybe you should join us out here?”

  Vince paused before continuing out onto the patio. His blue eyes stabbed at each girl. “Long time, no see,” he finally said.

  Miranda could see him fighting to be casual. His eyes held a multitude of questions.

  “Not sure why you’re back, since you girls decided to run away.”

  “You know why we ran,” Miranda countered.

  His steely gaze held hers, and he clenched his jaw. “Go inside now, Judith.”

  “No, I’m actually quite comfortable,” his wife said.

  “Well,” Cassie said brightly. “What a lovely reunion. You look great, Uncle Vince. Just like an unconvicted molester. Any new victims we should know about?”

  Several seconds passed while his face flushed purple with anger. “Get out of here. Get out now,” he ordered, his finger jabbing towards the front yard. “I’ll call the cops.”

  “You do that. You might get more than you bargained for,” Miranda added.

  His mouth gaped open and closed like a goldfish, before spinning to his wife. “I don’t know what they’re talking about,” he said.

  “Well, I think I’ve heard enough,” Judith murmured.

  “You never heard my side?” he countered.

  “There’s a side? A side to what? To not telling me you had two nieces who ran away?” She crossed her arms and stood to face him. “You’re the one who needs to leave. Now.”

  Miranda’s eyes widened. No don’t do that! He has to stay here. She flung her sister a worried look. Cassie mouthed back, Don’t worry.

  “Let me talk to you,” Vince wheedled.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” Judith reached into her front pocket and pulled out her cell phone. “I want you gone now. I need to talk with Charlotte. If I find out that you touched her.…”

  “Come on, it was a one time deal,” he tried to explain. “I was drunk. I don’t even remember it.”

  “You are a liar.” Miranda pointed at him. “You were sober. Like that even matters.”

  He reached over and grabbed her arm to bodily escort her off his property, his fingers digging into her flesh. “What have you done?” he hissed. She stomped on the top of his instep with her high heel. He flew back in pain.

  “Don’t you ever touch me again.” Miranda’s eyes sparked with anger.

  Cassie jerked her head up in the direction of the street, and a smile stretched across her face. “They’re here.”

  The front yard flashed with blue and red lights. Car doors slammed, followed by fists pounding on the front door.

  “We’re in the back yard!” Cassie yelled.

  The garden gate opened and three police officers streamed in. Leading them was Detective Ramsey. His eyes zeroed in on Vince, and he pulled out his badge. “Vince Temple? We have a warrant for your arrest.” Then, glancing at Miranda, “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  Vince stared goggle-eyed at the badge. “You can’t arrest me with what they’re saying. I know my rights.”

  “What were they saying?” Detective Ramsey’s brows knit together in pretend confusion. “I’m here based on your online activity. We received an anonymous tip resulting in a search warrant. We’ll be confiscating your computer, among other things.”

  Vince’s face drained of color. An officer with cropped red hair rotated him and cuffed his hands.

  “Judith! Don’t listen to them!” Vince called, talking over the officer reading him his rights. “This is all a conspiracy. Call my lawyer right now.”

  “Come on. Let’s go.” The redheaded officer led Vince to his patrol car. Placing his hand on Vince’s head, he steered him into the back seat.

  Judith watched with her hand clutched over her mouth. She looked wild-eyed at Miranda. “What am I going to do?”

  Cassie walked over. “You’re going to be okay. Thank God you know about this now.”

  Judith nodded and closed her eyes. “I’ve got to go pick up Charlotte from dance.”

  “Maybe have someone else get her so you have time to figure out the next step,” Miranda suggested. “I know you’re worried, but this is going to work out.”

  “I never even suspected.…” Judith sank to a chair. She reached for her phone and arranged for her daughter to go home with a friend.

  Two officers came out of the house, one carrying a hard drive and the other a laptop labeled as evidence.

  “I have a feeling what we’re going to find on that computer is going to keep him locked away for a long time.” Detective Ramsey stood next to them like a barrel, the bullet proof vest adding a stiff layer to his already rotund frame. He glanced at the sisters. “You two did good. I’m impressed. And as for you,” he pointed a finger at Cassie. “You might consider becoming an investigator. That was amazing sleuth work.”

  “Anything for my sister,” Cassie said, giving Miranda a big hug. “She’s the real hero here.”

  Miranda felt the sting of tears as she closed her eyes. As the police car carried Vince away, she took a deep breath and smiled.

  21

  Autumn

  The next day Miranda followed Cassie home in a two car caravan. They’d tossed around the idea of getting another hotel, but in the end decided to drive the six hundred miles straight through. “I just want to get my dog back from Doug and sleep in my own bed,” Miranda had explained.

  Cassie agreed. “Okay, but we have to stop at Madras on our way back.”

  “Why…?”

  “River Phoenix was born there! I have to check it out.”

  Miranda laughed. “You got it. By the way, how the heck did you find that out about Vince?”

  “The internet footprint.”

  “Huh?”

  Cassie sighed. “Everyone leaves a trail on the internet. Vince didn’t take care of his. I tracked him through dating sites, porn sites and eventually caught up with people who knew him. I was waiting to hear back when you left for his house. They confirmed what I already suspected.” She arched her eyebrow.

  “I don’t want to know.”

  “All you need to know is that he’s going to pay for his crimes for a long, long time.”

  Once home, Miranda lay on the floor in relief. Archer nuzzled her cheek with his wet nose, so she pulled him down and wrapped her arms around him. “Did you miss me? You’re such a good dog. I’ve missed you, ol'boy.” She snuggled into his fur before leaning up on one elbow. “We kicked butt, Archer. The good won. The bad are done.” Miranda hugged him again as satisfaction radiated through her. She felt free.

  Standing, she stretched her back and smiled. “We freaking did it,” she whispered under her breath.

  “You talking to yourself again?” Cassie hollered from the kitchen. Miranda groaned. When was she ever going to break that habit? Probably never, she decided and yelled back. “Yes, I am! And I may for the rest of my life, so get used to it.”

  “Okay, weirdo,” Cassie called.

  Miranda grinned. She trun
dled upstairs to the shower, relishing the scent of her mango soap, shampoos and Downy-soft towels. Swooping her hair in a towel, she got dressed in her work out gear and quickly applied a mud mask. What she wouldn’t give for her sister’s creamy complexion. She gave a little side dance, swept along by an undercurrent of glee thrumming inside of her. A huge weight had lifted off her shoulders, and she felt lighter than she’d felt in years. She’d finally found her voice.

  Miranda skipped back down the stairs, the wood treads cool beneath her bare feet. In the kitchen, Cassie sat in front of the laptop holding a cup of tea. She looked up, before grabbing at her heart in exaggeration. “Sheesh! You gotta warn a person before you come wandering in like a swamp monster.”

  Miranda stuck out her tongue.

  “Ahh, there’s the mature sister I’ve come to know and love. You want some tea? The water’s still hot in the kettle.”

  Miranda grabbed her blue mug and dropped in a teabag. After filling the cup, she wandered over to the stack of mail gathered at the end of the counter and rifled through the letters. Mmmm. She breathed in the cinnamon scent and took a sip. “Bill. Bill. Bill,” she said in a monotone. Wait. Miranda paused at a creamy envelope. What’s this?

  She pulled a letter from the stack with a return address from James Ashbach Esq. What the heck? It was addressed to Jason. The familiar stab of pain pierced her heart at the sight of his name, quickly followed by a wave of anger at his abandonment. I need to let him go. Deep inside a quieter voice insisted, “You can’t let him go.” She hesitated for a moment, tapping the envelope against her hand.

  Cassie looked up at the noise. “What is it?”

  “Jason’s got a weird letter.” Miranda read the return address. “It’s from some law firm.”

  “What?” Cassie asked in disbelief. “Let me see that.”

  Miranda passed over the envelope and grabbed her phone. She quickly texted. —Hey, you got an important letter, just letting you know.

  Pressing send, she sighed. Jason hadn’t responded to any of her texts. It would be surprising if he did now.

  She turned around to see Cassie holding the envelope up to the light. Next to her the burner under the teakettle glowed red, and the water began to steam again.

  Miranda snatched the letter from her sister’s hand. “Forget about it.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Two reasons: None of our business and Federal offense.”

  “Party pooper.”

  Rolling her eyes, Miranda headed back upstairs, first stopping to grab a washcloth from the linen closet. She wandered into the bathroom to clean off the mask. Her phone dinged. Leaning up from the sink, she stared at it like it was a snake. On the phone's screen, Jason's text read:—How are you?

  Her mouth fell open. What? So casual? Furiously, she pressed the keys.—I’ve texted you a thousand times. You’ve never answered back before now.

  Three dots wavered across the bottom, showing he was responding. Finally: —A lot’s been happening.

  She frowned and typed. —Like what? What could be so important that you couldn’t answer my texts.

  And cause me so much pain, she added silently.

  —Are you with Dylan?

  —What’s that got to do with anything?

  —Never mind. So you have something for me?

  —Yeah a letter.

  —I’ll be by tomorrow.

  Miranda’s heart sped up at his words. He’s coming over. She let out a deep breath as the crazy emotions continued to twist inside. Play it cool. She texted back.

  —Okay, someone will be home

  More dots showed. Then: —Can I take you to lunch so we can talk?

  She bit her bottom lip. Yes! No! Jason, you’re a crazy mind-trip. Miranda stood and paced the room. This was what she wanted, right? This was why she’d texted him to begin with. She thought about how he’d mentioned Dylan again. Frustration rose up inside of her. He was so freaking jealous. Would he ever listen to her? Leaving the phone on the bed, she ran downstairs to find her sister.

  “Cassie!”

  “For crying out loud, what?” her sister yelled in an aggravated voice. Whipping around the corner, Miranda found that Cassie had moved to the other end of the counter. The envelopes were strewn in front of her. Her sister was holding one, her face pink. “You said bills, and you weren’t lying,” she said as Miranda closed the space between them. “This is a nightmare. I need a calculator.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to figure out how to pay these blood suckers. I swear they are multiplying and having babies in the dark, because there’s more hospital bills here now than there were last night.”

  Miranda’s gaze swept across the counter. “Need help?”

  Cassie frowned. “How much money do you have?”

  “Not a lot. How much do you owe?”

  “Let’s just say there’s lots of zeros in the number, matching the zero in my checkbook.” Cassie grabbed her checkbook and squinted at her register, before picking up the next bill. “I mean really? Three thousand dollars for an x-ray?” Cassie threw the bill down and stood. “I feel like I’m being punked.”

  “Sorry, Chickee. I’ll help you somehow.”

  “It’s okay, I’ll figure it out. Anyway, what were you freaking out about?”

  “Oh,” Miranda paused. “Jason texted me.”

  “He did!” Cassie smiled. “Finally! What a little creep.”

  “Yeah. He asked if he could come over so we could talk.”

  “What did you say?”

  Miranda pulled at a loose thread on the seam of her shirt. “I haven’t answered yet.” She wound the thread around her finger and pulled. The seam came undone at her tug. “Lovely,” she muttered.

  “Why’d you do that?” Cassie asked with a smirk.

  “Like I meant to!”

  “So what are you going to say?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I came down to talk to you.”

  “Go say yes!”

  “Why? He’s been gone for three months.”

  “You were gone for almost two years.”

  That hurt, and Miranda cringed. She took a deep breath. “That’s true, but this is the second time he’s left. Is he just going to keep leaving every time things get hard?”

  “Maybe he’s going through a mid-life crisis.”

  Miranda snorted. “He’s twenty-four.”

  “I don’t know. I just know he’s always been there for me. He didn’t start acting like a fruit loop until you came back last year.”

  Miranda crossed her arms. “Excuse me? Are you blaming this on me?”

  Cassie rolled her eyes. “No! But he obviously has unresolved stuff he needs to deal with. Somehow you’re involved.” She waggled her finger at Miranda. “But just because you might have triggered it does not make this your fault.” Walking over to the fridge, she grabbed an apple out of the bin and inspected it. After a quick polish on her t-shirt, she took a bite. “Anyway, I’d say yes if I were you.”

  Miranda stared at her for a second, then sprinted back to her room. She grabbed the phone and checked for new messages. Just his, with the question mark. She texted back. —Okay.

  —Great. See you at 7

  She frowned when she read it. —At seven? What happened to lunch?

  —Plans changed

  Huh? She texted back. —Plans change in ten minutes?

  His text was immediate. —Yeah. And wear those shoes I like.

  Her mouth dropped open. Wear the shoes he likes? He doesn’t contact me for three months and then tells me what shoes to wear? I’ll show him where he can put those shoes.

  Her lip turned up in a smirk. —Don’t think I have them any more.

  —I think you do.

  —Nope, gave them to the Goodwill

  —You always were a bad liar.

  “Oh really?” Her eyebrows arched as her fingers flew: —I wouldn’t wear those shoes again if I had to cross a bed of coal
s and they were the last pair I owned.

  Smiling, she sent the text and tossed the phone on the bed.

  “Put that in your pipe and smoke it.” Miranda strode over to the dresser to grab the brush. What was she doing? Getting into an argument over shoes? What was wrong with her? “You’re acting like a twelve year old,” she told her reflection, yanking the brush through her wet hair and pulling it into a ponytail. “I’m going for a jog.”

  On the bed, the phone dinged again. She glanced at it a moment, found her sneakers and slammed the door.

  22

  Autumn

  The drama about the shoes faded by the next day as butterflies took over her stomach. Miranda flew around her room searching for her scarf. Why am I so nervous? It’s just Jason. “Maybe not seeing him in three months is why you’re nervous,” she muttered. “Now, where is my lipstick?” She leaned close to the mirror, dabbed at her lips with the glossy pink tube and rubbed them together. At the last second her eye caught a jewelry box. Inside was a tiny pearl hanging from a silver chain, a birthday present from Jason. She bit her lip in indecision, then clasped the chain around her neck. The pendant glowed against the black neckline of her dress, and she touched it with a smile.

  “Okay, got to get moving.” Miranda whirled around. “Shoes, shoes, shoes.” She cast a look around for her ankle strap heels. Her heart beat like a pair of castanets. Should I wear the shoes he wants? Miranda smoothed down her black thigh-high dress and frowned with indecision. Am I overdressed? He’s probably planning on taking me to Fry Guys. She groaned. “I swear, I get it wrong every time.” In a frantic scrabble, she began yanking out all her shoes from the closet in search for his favorites. “Stupid shoes, where the flip are you?”

  “Stop being so negative,” Cassie called from the doorway.

  Miranda stared up at her, hair in her eyes. She blew it back. “I’m not being negative. For crying out loud, run down stairs. He might be here already!”