Discovering You

by Brenda Novak

  “It has to be somewhere, couldn’t have disappeared into thin air. I just hope he didn’t toss it into the Bay. I’m not sure we’ll ever recover it if he did.”

  “What are the chances he’ll disclose the truth? Unless he’s stupid, he’s never going to volunteer what he did with the murder weapon, especially to an old couple living across the street.”

  “He’s a talker, brags constantly. It’s possible. I was hoping... I don’t know. I was hoping I might catch a break. It’s time for my luck to change.”

  “What does he like to do?” Rod asked. “Where does he like to go? A certain strip club or bar? A convenience store or gym? There must be someplace I can bump into him. Maybe the Siddells can tell us where I should hang out.”

  “You? No, never,” she said. “Stay away from him.”

  “Why? Unless he’s into killing random guys, I should be fine. We’ve never met, so he won’t recognize me, won’t have any reason to suspect me, either. Maybe I can befriend him. He’d share things with a buddy that he wouldn’t share with a neighbor. Think of all the jailhouse snitches who go to the police with information on their cell mates. This wouldn’t be quite the same thing, but I could give him someone to talk to, someone to try to impress.”

  The idea that Rod would be in the same vicinity as Sebastian made India uncomfortable. “What if you push too hard and he gets suspicious?”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “I don’t want you to approach him. It has to be someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “Anyone!”

  “You don’t think I can pull it off.”

  It wasn’t that. With his build and his tattoos, even his background, she had no doubt he could blend in. She’d initially pegged him as a rough sort, hadn’t she? He had that dangerous edge to him. But the fact that he could be believable in an outlaw role didn’t change her mind. “I’m too afraid to let you try.”

  “Watch it,” he teased. “You’re not supposed to care about me. You’ve put a lot of energy into trying to avoid it, remember?”

  “How can I forget?”

  He chuckled. “Give me your address. I’m coming over.”

  She wanted to see him. The thought of being able to touch him, to kiss him, filled her stomach with butterflies. I’m pathetic... If she didn’t watch herself, one of them—maybe both of them—would get hurt, and if she let him get involved in her efforts to fight Sebastian, that pain could include more than heartbreak. “What about your job?”

  “I can’t remember the last time I took a week off. It’ll be my summer vacation.”

  “Dylan won’t mind?”

  “That’s the beauty of working with family. My brothers will step up. I’ve got this cast slowing me down, anyway. Better I take vacation when I’m a little gimpy than when I’m not.”

  He managed so well with the cast she wouldn’t call it much of a handicap. “Even if your brothers cover for you, I can list lots of things that would be more fun.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess I’ll tour Europe next year.”

  “Okay,” she said with a laugh and gave him the name and address of her motel.

  * * *

  Rod could tell that India had been glad to see him when he arrived. She hadn’t tried to hide her excitement. Although she’d just gotten up from a nap, she’d given him a sleepy smile and slipped easily and eagerly into his arms. Then she’d invited him in and proceeded to fix her hair and makeup because they were planning to go out to eat.

  He’d been hungry, but he’d also been so anxious to touch her that he’d kissed her as soon as she was finished in the bathroom—and they’d never made it out the door. After making love the first time, they’d ordered a pizza, discussed how to create a situation that would let him befriend Sebastian—and then made love again.

  At first the sex had been passionate, almost frantic, as if they’d been apart for too long, even though it hadn’t been long at all. But after their pizza, the sex was different, more serious, more meaningful. And that was what he couldn’t get out of his head.

  He was developing feelings for her. Somehow she fit him—his personality, the way he liked to be touched, the way he liked a woman to respond when he touched her. At last he could understand what Dylan and Aaron must’ve experienced before settling down. He would’ve been happy to learn he wasn’t incapable of that kind of caring, except that he was worried about where the relationship was heading. He was losing his heart—but did she even want it?

  She was still wearing her wedding ring...

  “You seem a little tense,” she whispered when he thought she’d already gone to sleep for the night. “You okay?”

  He couldn’t see her face; she was spooning him. It was dark in the room, anyway. “I’m fine. Am I keeping you up?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you still awake?”

  “It’s only ten.”

  “Aren’t you ready to sleep?”

  “I am. I’ve had so many short nights in the past eleven months, I could sleep for weeks before I get caught up. I’m just...thinking.”

  “About...”

  “You.”

  He hoped she’d explain that statement, say something to allay his fears, but she didn’t.

  “Are you scared to meet Sebastian?” she asked.

  He was more afraid of her. He could handle himself around other guys, even dangerous ones. But love? That was new territory. “Not really.”

  “You should be.”

  He adjusted his pillow. “Why? Far as he’s concerned, you and I have no connection. He doesn’t have any reason to start anything with me.”

  “You’ll be asking some sensitive questions. If he gets spooked—”

  “Relax. I could get hit by a car crossing the street tomorrow. Anything could happen, but we can’t be afraid of it all the time. Like I told you, I’ll be careful.”

  She snuggled closer, slid her hand up his chest in a movement that suggested she liked the way he felt. She was growing more and more confident with his body. “Still. I’m not convinced having you come into such close contact with him is a good idea. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you got hurt. I already feel responsible for Charlie. I’d give anything to go back and...and change what happened.”

  Would she? Because then they wouldn’t be together... “Charlie was ambushed. He didn’t have a chance. I’m going into this fully aware.” He tucked her hand under his chin, reveling in the feel of her bare breasts against his back. “Besides, I make my own decisions. This is my choice. You won’t be responsible for anything.”

  “Maybe I could hire a PI.”

  “Most PIs don’t do that sort of thing. At least not any I’ve ever heard about. That’s cop territory, and the cops aren’t going to do it.”

  “We could put out a few feelers, see if we can find a PI who’d work with us.”

  He turned the ring on her finger so the diamond wouldn’t cut him. They were naked. There was nothing separating them—except what she felt for Charlie. “That’ll take time. And what if we get some guy who says yes but isn’t convincing? If Sebastian ever realizes you’re trying to put one over on him, he’ll be leery of every stranger he meets. The game’ll be over at that point. Basically, we have one shot at this, so it’s got to be good. I trust myself to handle it more than I’d trust someone whose only interest is in how much he’ll get paid.”

  She kissed his neck, then his shoulder, but she seemed as restless and unsettled as he was.

  “You have to have some confidence in me, India,” he told her. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I believe you. That’s the thing. I just hope I’m not making a mistake by letting you do this.”

  Again, he felt her wedding ring as he entwined his fingers with hers
and couldn’t help hoping he wasn’t the one making the mistake. “We have to roll the dice,” he said.

  20

  Natasha was still at the body shop. When Mack came home for dinner, she’d already left the house. But that’d been several hours ago. It was getting late and she wasn’t back, which was why he hadn’t gone to bed. He was waiting up, watching TV in the living room, to be sure she returned safely.

  As a sports analyst talked about the latest Giants game, he read over the texts he’d sent her throughout the day. She’d ignored all of them.

  You’re not going to answer? I said I was sorry and I meant it.

  Come on, Tash. Forgive me. Please?

  Hello?

  You don’t have any right to be mad!

  Okay, I get it. You do have a right to be mad. But you have to understand that this is hard for me, too.

  He felt like a scumbag trying to garner sympathy by pulling the “this is hard for me, too” card. He had nine years on her and a lot more life experience. He shouldn’t be complaining. But he was growing desperate. He couldn’t bear the thought of her hating him. Why couldn’t they find neutral ground somewhere between love and hate?

  “What’re you watching?”

  He nearly grimaced with distaste when Anya walked into the room. J.T. had gone to bed over an hour ago. He’d assumed she’d retired with him. “SportsCenter.”

  “Fun.” Her sarcasm tempted him to say she should go watch her own TV. She had one in the bedroom. But he bit his tongue. He’d long ago decided it was usually best to ignore her. Now that Natasha had graduated and they didn’t have to be so careful to keep life calm and stable for her sake, maybe they could tell J.T. and Anya that it was time to move out. His father didn’t particularly annoy him. He sort of liked J.T.—a lot more than his brothers did. But Anya got under his skin like nobody else. Some of the stuff she said to him and Rod and Grady was so overtly sexual it was embarrassing. Grady had once confided that she’d walked in on him when he was getting out of the shower, and he felt certain she’d done it on purpose.

  “So Natasha’s leaving for college early, huh?” she said.

  Mack was surprised she knew. Natasha rarely spoke to her; they weren’t close. And he hadn’t volunteered the information. “Who told you?”

  “My daughter, of course. You may look after her like an old hen, but I’m the one who gave birth to her. Why, is her change of plans a secret?”

  “No. Just relatively new.”

  “So she is going.”

  “Yes. In a week.” To get a reasonable airfare, they’d had to wait that long.

  “Any idea why?”

  “You didn’t ask her when she told you?”

  “I asked. She didn’t answer.”

  He shrugged. “I guess she’s eager to get out on her own.”

  “It’s got nothing to do with you?”

  When she took the conversation in that direction, Mack felt his stomach twist into knots. “Why would her moving out have anything to do with me?”

  She slouched onto the ottoman not far away. “Really? You’re going to play dumb?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, stop pretending,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “You’ve wanted her since the moment I brought her here.”

  Mack gripped the remote so tightly he thought he might break it. “Anya, if you’d like to keep living under this roof and enjoying the other necessities we provide, like food, I suggest you keep your mouth shut. I haven’t done anything questionable where Natasha’s concerned. Matter of fact, I’ve tried to be good to her. To take care of her.” He could’ve gone on, could’ve mentioned that he’d had to fill the gap because her own mother had done such a poor job, but he didn’t see anything to be gained by turning this into a screaming match. Rod wasn’t home, but Grady was. Mack hoped to get through this evening, and the rest of Natasha’s stay in the house, without drawing attention to his problem.

  He braced himself for whatever she might say, but she surprised him by agreeing. “You think I haven’t noticed that? She’s one of the lucky few who knows what it’s like to be truly loved by a man. You’ve been better to her than anyone’s ever been to me—I can tell you that.”

  He doubted Natasha could be called lucky. But he did care about her. Deeply. “Then let’s agree to leave it there.”

  “Sure, if that’s where you want to leave it, although I have a few thoughts on the subject—”

  “I don’t want to hear them,” he broke in. “Thank you.”

  She got up to leave, then turned back. “I get that you have no love or respect for me. Maybe I’ve earned that. But I’m going to do you a favor, anyway. She’s not a child anymore, Mack. You can have her if you want her.”

  The front door opened before he could respond and Natasha walked in. She took one look at her mother, shifted her gaze to him, then went to her room without greeting either one of them.

  “I’ll continue to do what’s best for her,” he murmured to Anya.

  “Even if it’s not what’s best for you?” She threw up her hands. “Suit yourself.”

  She acted as if he was needlessly hurting himself and Natasha, but if she condoned them getting together, there had to be something wrong with it. He never wanted to be on her side.

  She had one thing right, though. He loved her daughter.

  Mack sat there for another thirty minutes, hoping Natasha would come out and talk to him. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen when he heard the shower go on in the bathroom down the hall from her room. She was getting ready for bed.

  After turning off the TV, he started for his own room. He had to work in the morning, and the day would be a long one. Since Rod was taking time off, they’d all have to carry a heavier load. But he never made it as far as the stairs that led to the basement. He migrated to Natasha’s room, hoping to have a few words with her when she got out of the shower, just to make sure she was okay.

  His computer, which he let her use, was on her desk. He sat down to search the internet while he waited, but as soon as the screen saver dissolved, he saw that she’d been on Facebook, scrolling through pictures posted by her fellow high school graduates, who were on a senior trip to San Diego.

  She’d never mentioned a senior trip. She probably hadn’t wanted to ask for the money.

  Or maybe it wasn’t a school-sponsored event and she hadn’t been invited...

  He clicked through the pictures, then got distracted by a message that said, “See how far we’ve come,” which linked to a page that showed the seniors as babies. Natasha’s entire graduating class had posted baby pictures alongside their senior pictures. Except for her. She’d sent in a photo of one of Dylan’s dogs as a puppy.

  Mack remembered hearing her ask her mother for a baby photo a few weeks ago, remembered Anya saying she didn’t have one. Anya claimed they’d all been “burned in the fire,” but Mack had never heard about a fire, and Natasha didn’t recall one, either. More likely, Anya had lost Natasha’s baby pictures somewhere along the way, since nothing mattered to her more than drugs, and she used to be even worse than she was now.

  But why had Natasha turned in a puppy picture?

  He read through the comments. Some guy named “Teto” said she was a cute pup and he’d like to do her “doggy style.” Mack wished he could put his fist through that kid’s face, but the sexual innuendo didn’t upset him nearly as much as some of the comments made by the girls. “And she’s still a dog,” or “Now we know she’s always been a bitch.”

  “What’re you doing in my room?”

  Mack had gotten so caught up he’d forgotten to listen for the shower. Natasha was standing in the doorway. She wasn’t wearing one of his T-shirts; she’d put on the real pajamas Rod had given her last Christmas.
The fact that she’d eschewed his T-shirt was significant, but instead of commenting on that, he motioned to his computer. “Why the dog pic?”

  “What else was I supposed to use? It was an assignment. I had to turn in something if I didn’t want it to affect my grade.”

  “Dylan’s dog—that was the best you could think of?”

  “Would you rather I used stock art of some random baby? Pretend I was just like everyone else? I’m not that desperate.” She waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. I got the points and the grade I needed.”

  She had to be hurt by what some of her peers had posted, but, in typical Natasha fashion, she was dismissing it as if she was too tough for that. “What’re you doing in here, anyway?” she asked. “Did you come to get your computer?”

  “No. I came to tell you that you can take it to school with you.”

  “I don’t need it,” she said. “I’m planning to buy my own.”

  “You won’t have the money, not for some time, and you’ll need a computer. I hardly ever have to type anything. I text, so my phone’s more convenient. Take it.”

  “No, it’s yours. I can rent one.”

  “Take it!” he insisted.

  She shrugged, but he couldn’t tell if she was acquiescing or just refusing to argue. “Is that all?” she said. “Because I’m kinda tired.”

  He scratched his neck. “You don’t want to talk about last night?”

  She wouldn’t look at him. “I’d rather forget it, but every detail is permanently etched in my brain. Ah... Oh!...” she panted, mimicking Bella. “Yes! God, that’s good.”

  He cringed. “Thanks for the vivid reminder.”

  “No problem. I’m glad you had fun.”

  “Natasha—”

  “Don’t. It’s fine,” she said. “You don’t owe me anything. I get that. I’m the one who was out of line.”

  “Bringing Bella home was a mistake, and I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. I wish I hadn’t done it. My mind is...not where it should be.”