I go outside.
Before I drive to Kingsville, I need to make a quick stop. I turn my headlights off and coast into Macey’s driveway. I don’t want to wake her up—it’s late. There are lights on in her living room. I park, grab the kennel, and walk to her front door. I wiggle the knob; it’s locked. If I know her as well as I think I do, she still hasn’t changed the security code on her gate. I round the front of her house, punch in the digits on the keypad, and open the gate. I go to the back entrance, off the mudroom. It’s unlocked. Careless woman—we’re going to have a serious discussion about safety again.
The house is fairly dark, so I carefully make my way to the living room. The TV is on and Macey is asleep on the sectional. I put the kennel down, then make my way to the couch. Lucky for me she could sleep through the apocalypse. She’s wearing warm-ups and a Led Zeppelin T-shirt. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her look more beautiful. Unable to resist, I finger a strand of her dark hair. I want to crawl behind her and hold her all night, but I can’t. There are things to do to set things right first. Julia will never have another chance to get between us.
She’s a sick woman, and she could have killed Macey and Bishop. I blame myself. I didn’t pay attention to her screams for help. I knew she’d changed, had grown more aggressive and unhappy over the last year—long before she cheated. New York has a way of getting under people’s skin. Especially if they have money. The party scene—all the goddamned elitists running around trying to outdo each other.
I kneel beside Macey, listening to her soft breaths, staring at her perfect face. “Soon, darlin’.” I stroke her cheek. “I’m going to worship you for the rest of your life.” I kiss her forehead and she lets out a little moan. I wait until she settles down again before I get up.
Then I move the kennel next to the couch. The first step of many in finding my way back to her. Satisfied both of my babies are safe, I sneak out the back door, lock it, and quietly drive away.
—
What kind of crazy-ass dream was that? I sit up, rubbing my eyes. I could swear Joshua was here. But I know better. I gaze around the room—nothing is out of place. I’ve always suffered from nightmares, so when I have happy dreams, they almost scare me more. Then I hear little grunts coming from nearby. I look down. Simon’s kennel! Oh. My. God. I jump off the sofa, hit my knees, and open the cage.
He’s back, all fur and big black eyes. His little half-tail wags and I squeal as I hug him. He buries his head in my hair, licking and sniffing, tickling me. I hold him away from my body, his back feet dangling. He squirms. “Where did you come from, little one?”
I stand up and start searching downstairs. “Joshua?” I check the pool room, den, kitchen, bathroom, and mudroom. Nothing. But I already know; he snuck in through the back door. I’m overjoyed—I fell in love with Simon the minute I saw him and I’ve missed him so much. Reminds me of someone else. I know this is his way of apologizing for what happened tonight. No words needed. I accept. And maybe in the future we can be friends. But for now, I need some time and space. I want to discover who I really am. No more big parties—football season being the exception—no drinking binges, no more running away from Corpus. This is home. And now I’m going to blaze my own trail without a man. This little puppy will help me get over everything and possibly teach me to love myself. I check the closest clock. It’s three in the morning and all I can think about is Simon and that damn house.
“Wanna take a trip, Simon?”
He barks.
“Consider it a date.” I carry him upstairs and put on a pair of sandals. “Let’s go check out our future home.”
Chapter 26
I knock on Julia’s door pretty early on Saturday morning. She answers, wearing a silky robe and slippers.
“Joshua?” She’s stunned. “Is everything okay?”
“Can I come in?”
“Yes. Please do.” She steps aside. “Are you here to see Aunt Fergie?”
“No,” I say, taking off my baseball cap. “You.”
“Want a cup of coffee?” I follow her down the hallway and into the kitchen. She motions for me to sit down. “Black?”
“You remembered,” I comment, grinning. “Any plans today?”
“Not really. Maybe a little shopping in Corpus. Do you need help with something?” She offers me a mug and joins me at the table.
“How about spending the day with me? We’ll have lunch, catch a movie, maybe barbecue some ribs later tonight.”
She takes a long sip, then sets her cup aside. “Have you lost your mind?”
No, but I’m fairly certain she has. “No. You know Macey and I broke up after what happened the other night,” I say. “It’s been pretty hard readjusting. I could use some company.”
She blinks, her eyes never leaving mine. Then she covers my hand with hers. “I’m so sorry, Josh. I know you had high expectations with Macey. I tried to warn you—trash is trash.”
Still the self-righteous woman I’ve always known. It takes a lot of fortitude to ignore the insult. “You’re right.” I bite my lower lip.
“I’ll clear my schedule so we can spend some quality time together. Should I pack an overnight bag just in case we get too busy to drive back tonight?” Her eyes are full of mischief.
“Sure.” I shrug. “But before you head upstairs, tell me why you haven’t answered the phone all week. I tried calling you every day, especially the night everything went down.”
Her body goes rigid. “It was so embarrassing finding them together. I knew Bishop wasn’t exactly boyfriend material—he’s a womanizing pig. But Macey—we had lunch together last week. She seemed so enamored with you, so dedicated. It just broke my heart. I didn’t know what to say or do. You know, kill the messenger and all.”
She just graduated to full-blown sociopath. “I understand.”
“Give me half an hour.” She jumps up, kisses the top of my head, and runs upstairs.
I take the opportunity to text Bishop.
Like clockwork, Julia reappears, dangling a Kenneth Cole overnight bag in my face. “I’m ready.”
I take the bag and we head outside. I deposit her in the passenger seat, stashing her satchel in the back. Too easy. That’s the first thing that hits me. But then again, considering her extreme behavior, she’d jump at the first chance to see me again. Satisfied with my reasoning, I climb in the car.
The forty-minute drive is uneventful; she’s more interested in the visor mirror or posing for me than conversation. More indicators that she thinks she got away with everything. We stop at a convenience store and grab a couple of bottled waters and she buys a pack of cigarettes.
“Mind if I smoke one?” she asks.
“Not in my car.”
“Of course not.” She stands on her toes and kisses my cheek.
“When did you take up smoking?”
“It’s nothing new,” she comments. “Remember Manhattan? I’d never drink without a cigarette in my hand.”
Something else I’ve forgotten. I wish I could erase all memories of our relationship. She’s an attractive woman. And I do feel some level of empathy for her. But she’s the one who destroyed our relationship little by little. Yet I also owe her a big thank-you. If she hadn’t screwed me over, I would never have met Macey.
“There’s steam coming out of your ears, Joshua.” She teases. “What’s on your mind?” She blows out a stream of smoke.
“A little bit of everything,” I admit. “And you’re a part of it.” I thumb her chin.
“What are you saying, Josh?” She traces her fingers up my arm.
“Do I need to tell you right now?”
“No,” she says conciliatorily. “But let’s go somewhere to eat.”
“I’ll make you a continental breakfast at home.”
“All right.” She drops her cigarette butt on the ground and grinds it with the tip of her shoe. “Ready.” She tucks her lighter in her purse and opens the car door. I frown, pick up the pulverize
d butt, and throw it in the nearest trash can.
We pull into my parking lot and she follows me inside the lobby. “This is the first time I’ve been here as your guest.” She gives me a sidelong glance.
“Happy?”
“Very.” We get in the elevator. Halfway up, she hits the stop button. “Throw caution to the wind, Joshua—make love to me.” She drops her bag on the floor and presses her body against mine, hooking her arms around my neck. “I’ve waited so long for a chance to show you how much I love you.”
Shit. I gently disentangle her, grasping her arms firmly when I hold her away from me. “Slow down, darlin’. We have time.”
“Do we?” She pouts. “That’s always been your mantra. We have time. But look what happened to us—we ran out of it.”
I punch the button and the elevator groans back to life. “Quit living in the past, Julia. There’s so much to look forward to.” The door opens and I scoop her bag up, then usher her into the hallway.
As soon as we reach my door, Bishop steps into the hallway.
“Joshua. Julia,” he greets us.
Julia’s eyelashes flutter and she looks away from him, completely silent.
“Good morning, Bishop,” I say.
“Could I impose on the two of you for a few minutes?” he requests.
Julia crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t think we have anything to say to you, Dr. Singletary.”
“Now wait, Julia,” I whisper near her ear. “Who are we to deprive a man of his fifteen minutes of fame?” I wink at her.
A smile tugs at her lips. “Oh, you are naughty.”
I take her by the elbow and we join Bishop inside his condo.
He invites us to the kitchen, where his paperwork and pill bottles are still out. “Glass of wine?” he asks.
Julia glares at him. “Is that some kind of sick joke?”
“No,” he answers quietly. “But I’m very disappointed in you, Julia.”
“What do you mean?” She’s getting a little cagey; her gaze zigzags around the room. “Joshua, did you trick me into coming here?”
I reposition myself in the entryway, ready to catch her if she tries to run. “I did what I had to do.”
“You bastard.” Then she stares at Bishop. “What am I doing here?”
“I think you already know.”
She shakes her head.
“You drugged Macey and me with Ambien and stole one of my prescription pads, Julia. I can’t let it happen again.”
“Liar!” She whips around, eyes wide and glassy. “Get out of my way, Joshua.”
“Jail or rehab,” Bishop calls from behind her. He’s not wasting any time.
Her mouth drops open and she spins around slowly. “You’d send me to prison?” Tears stream down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to do it. I’m so sorry—really I am.” She sinks to her knees, hugging herself and rocking.
I kneel behind her, holding her close. “Nobody wants to hurt you,” I say softly. “We want to help you—get you the care you need so you can be a productive member of society again. We’re both dedicated to seeing you well again.”
She wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. “That sounds so rehearsed, Joshua. Don’t fuck with me.”
“He’s not,” Bishop interjects. “He’s being honest, and so am I. If you’ll agree to rehab, I’ll forget any of this ever happened.”
“What about Macey?” she screeches. “She’ll never approve of that arrangement.”
“She doesn’t even know what happened, Julia,” I say. “And I think you underestimate her capacity for forgiveness.”
“She’s a fucking stripper, Joshua, not a saint. Why are you so blind, so taken in by a woman who sells herself to any man who thinks she’s beautiful?”
Like a fish out of water, she’s gasping for breath, trying to manipulate her way out of this intervention. “Please,” I say, lifting her off the floor. “Let’s focus on you—what you need to start feeling better about yourself.”
“A dose of oxycodone would help,” she says, smacking my hands away. “And a second chance with you.”
“Joshua…” Bishop pulls me aside, never taking his eagle eyes off Julia. “I can take it from here. She knows what I expect of her. My colleague manages a rehab program in Victoria. I think we’ll take a drive out there tomorrow. You should go, settle your own affairs.”
“Are you sure?”
“Go.”
We shake hands.
—
The real estate agent agreed to meet me at the house at nine. I’m early, playing voyeur girl, peeking inside the windows, prowling around in the backyard. There’s a shed and a single-car garage, too. I hear a car pull up and run out front. A middle-aged woman in a navy skirt suit climbs out of a late-model Cadillac. She gives me a Texas-sized smile and waves.
“Macey Taylor?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m Sophia Gomez. So glad you left a message for me last night. This is an enchanting house and has only been on the market for ten days. Ready to look inside?”
“I’ve been dreaming about it.”
“Wish all of my clients had your enthusiasm.” She unlocks the front door.
My cellphone rings—Joshua. “Ms. Gomez, I’m sorry—I have to take this call.”
“Meet me inside whenever you’re ready.”
I wait until the door closes to answer. “Joshua?”
“Did you find your little buddy this morning?” He sounds so happy.
“Thank you. I love him so much.”
“I know you do, darlin’. I’m sorry I kept him from you. I’m an asshole sometimes.”
“Why are you so happy today? Win the lottery? Find a new girlfriend?” God, I hope not.
He inhales. “Don’t joke about that, Macey. I can’t think about anyone else but you.”
“Sorry. Can you blame me after how angry you were last night?”
“Let’s try and forget about that—not one of my better moments. Where are you?”
“Guess.”
“Paris?”
“No.”
“The club?”
“Nope.” I giggle.
“I give up.”
“Looking at a house I want to buy.”
“What?”
“I’ve done a lot of soul-searching since our breakup. I think it’s time for me to grow up, Joshua. Buy a house, go to school, learn to trust myself—hell, to respect myself.”
“Wow,” he comments. “I’m proud of you. Where does a house fit in?”
“Downsizing,” I answer. “I don’t think I’m coming back to the club, so I need to find a place to live I can afford on a more modest salary. You know how hard it is for a single girl to pay the bills.”
“Single?”
“Well, Dr. Singletary proposed.”
He’s silent.
“Sorry—just trying to be funny. And rambling because I’m so nervous.”
“Do I frighten you, little girl?”
“More than anything.” I tense from top to bottom. Confessing that he still possesses the ability to reduce me to mush is disconcerting because it really doesn’t matter anymore. We’re not together.
“Want me to drive over and check the place out?”
“No—I’m a big girl. Pretty handy with power tools, too. Don’t worry, I’ll look for water leaks, mold, and cracks in the walls.”
“Full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“I don’t want to be rude, Joshua, but the realtor is waiting for me inside. I’m just dying to see it. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be waiting,” he says, then disconnects.
I silence the ringer then, wondering what just happened. That was the most uncomfortable and bizarre conversation I’ve ever had with him. Like we’re old friends catching up. We’ve lost our spark and I hate it. I take a deep breath, swallowing the lump in my throat, beating back the sadness.
When a door closes, a window opens.
I flop back in my car seat, bewildered by the girl I just talked to on the phone. Life plans? Downsizing? A new house? School? All great things, but she wants to do it on her own. It’s my fault. And I’m pretty fucking sure there’s nothing I can do to change her mind right now. And that shit about Bishop proposing…I shake my head; I need to talk to my mother.
An hour later I’m sitting in the living room with her. I explain everything.
“The poor girl,” she remarks. “Well, Joshua, are you entirely sure Macey is the girl you want to marry?”
“Never been surer of anything in my life.”
“Then what are you doing here? Go get her. Bring her home.” She raises her head and looks at me, deep concern shows on her face. “I’ve never seen you this undecided. Humbling, isn’t it? But you’ve done more than most men do—you admitted you were wrong.”
“Not to her.”
She slides closer to me on the couch, draping her arm across my shoulders. “I have a feeling she’s in denial. Surrounding herself with friends and taking on extra responsibilities to keep herself busy so she doesn’t have time to think.”
I ripped my own heart out this time. I gave Macey every reason to start a new life. I just never thought she’d move on this fast. “Have you ever felt this way?”
She blushes, folding her hands on her lap. “You know how I feel about discussing private matters. I was still a child when I gave birth to you, Joshua. Girls weren’t given the luxury of dating when I was young. If a reputable young man came along and asked for permission to court you, most fathers gave their blessings. The oil boom and war drove most young men north or into the service, leaving behind a bevy of young women.” She sighs, then takes a sip of her ice water.
“There was a time when I thought your father regretted asking for my hand in marriage. He being ten years my senior, I didn’t have the experience a woman his own age did. We were apart four months while he traveled in the Pacific Northwest after we were engaged. He considered it a rite of passage. So like any proper young lady, I gave him my blessing, while inside, I feared and loathed what might happen while he was gone. Sure, we exchanged a few letters and talked on the phone a couple of times. But I didn’t know whether he truly loved me or not.” She gazes at me, her hands shaking. “In my limited experience, I can definitively say, if I had been a little older and wiser, I’d have told him I didn’t approve or gone after him.”
Sin Page 18
