Unable to Resist

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Unable to Resist Page 20

by Cassie Graham


  Little does he know, every affectionate touch, and every soothing word gradually brings me back from the dark. The dark I’ve been living in since Kyle died; the same darkness that pulled me farther under when I found Dad dead.

  “We have to get this to the police, Red. This’ll all be over. The sooner we do it, the faster you can move on. I’m so sorry you had to see that. God, I’m so sorry, baby.” He kisses my forehead. “I’m sorry.”

  I snuggle into his neck, and sigh. “I found him, you know? I’m the one who found him. Seeing him again is too much to handle, but now Dad will have some justice. That is my saving grace right now. I hope Dad can finally rest.”

  Maybe I can finally move on.

  Duane brings his hands to my face and forces me to look at him. “We’ll make this right. Things will be better for you, for Brent, and lastly, for Nora. You all deserve some peace.”

  I bring my arms around his waist and snuggle into his tight grip.

  I’m finally home.

  Five days later….

  The wind rushes through my hair and I turn to face Duane. With a stunning smile, he takes off his aviators and places them on his head.

  “How do you feel, baby?”

  Cruising down the I-40, just outside of Arizona, I unbuckle my seatbelt and stand in my seat. Lifting my hands over my head, the wind rushes through my fingers and I take a moment to relish in the glee I’m feeling. The rushing wind catches my sunglasses, and they fly off of my face.

  “Whoops,” I giggle as I stretch in the back seat to retrieve them. Once they are placed firmly back on my face, I sit back down in my seat and exhale.

  “I feel free,” I say. “I feel amazing. A weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. Dad got his justice, Brent is happy and moving to New York, Nora is finally able to live her life without that monster and I finally get you.”

  I grab his hand on the stick shift and squeeze.

  Duane leans over the console and kisses my cheek. “You’ve been pretty brave these past few days. I’m so proud of you.”

  The previous days’ events come back to me like a movie.

  Once Duane got me off the couch, I gave one last goodbye to my childhood home and we took the USB straight to the police station. Joey, the jolly, lead investigator from a few days prior, had been sitting behind his desk with a pen in his mouth.

  “Well, hello there, sweetie,” he motions toward Duane. “Rynard, what are you guys doing here?” He asks as he takes his crescent glasses off.

  Duane and I sit behind Joey’s desk and tell him everything. Every sordid detail, and every nook and cranny of my father’s story.

  It’s kind of horrifying when I think about everything that I’ve seen.

  I hand Joey the USB and leave him to it. I can’t bring myself to watch it, again.

  With a warm hug from Joey, Duane takes me back to Jason’s. It’s very late in the evening, almost midnight, but Jason is still awake, waiting for me.

  “Hi, guys,” he says with a worried expression. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day. What happened?” He pulls me into the kitchen, while Duane makes us dinner. I re-tell the story, hopefully for one of the last times, to my very best friend.

  As I tell Jason the happenings of our day, the crushing feeling is gone.

  I’m no longer burdened by my Dad’s death. Tears still fall, but only because I miss Dad so much, not because I feel haunted by the possibility of his unhappiness. I no longer wonder what I could have done to change his mind. To make him see that suicide wasn’t the answer. Now, I know his life was taken from him. He didn’t take it himself. As horrid as it sounds, that fact sets me at ease. He didn’t hate his life. He didn’t want it to end. He only wanted what we all want…

  Love.

  He died for Nora.

  Duane sets a plate full of food in front of me and kisses my lips.

  My phone buzzes, and I grab it from my purse.

  Brent: Dad just got arrested.

  My face snaps up. I show Duane and Jason my phone.

  “Shit, that was fast,” Duane says around a mouthful of food.

  Me: I’m so sorry.

  Seconds later, my phone rings. It’s Brent. I answer quickly.

  “Hi Brent. How are you?”

  “Honestly?” He asks.

  I crease my eyebrows. “Of course.”

  “I’m fucking ecstatic, actually. Dad is going to prison. Mom and I are free to live our lives without that fucker. I don’t have to live under his thumb anymore.”

  Hearing about Allan still makes my stomach churn, but knowing this all happened for the better, makes it a bit easier to swallow. “That’s great, Brent. So, what are your plans? How is your mom?”

  Brent sighs heavily. “She’s shocked. She told me everything that happened between your dad and her. They had been having an affair for years. Mom said he was the only person who really loved her, so she’s mourning for his death all over again.”

  “How are you and her doing? Have you talked things out?” I ask. I figure he’s got to hold some sort of anger toward her for letting him be shipped off to the middle of nowhere.

  “We’ve only begun. Our relationship was—is strained. I thought she sent me away. She told me he beat her for attempting to go get me when I was thirteen. I guess she left without his knowing and Dad found her. She was in the hospital for two weeks recovering. I feel for her, you know? She was trapped. At least he hated me enough to send me away.”

  I swipe the tears away from my eyes and nod my head. “Yeah, I get it. I’m just thankful this is all over.”

  “Me too. I’m heading to New York in a few days. My inheritance kicked in and I want to go to school. NYU just accepted my application; I start next semester in January.”

  I pop up from my seat and do a little happy dance for my friend. “Brent! That’s so great. I’m so excited for you. Your life can finally begin.”

  Duane and Jason look at each other, shake their heads and grin.

  He laughs. “Were you doing your happy dance for me? I could hear the rustling. I can still see you doing it as a little girl.”

  I quickly stop my dancing and look around. Can he see me? I hoot out loud. “I was!”

  Silence fills the phone for a few moments.

  “I’m so sorry for the part my family played in your father’s death, Ann. This should have never happened.”

  I wave a hand in front of my body. “You are not allowed to apologize for your dad’s actions. You didn’t do anything wrong. There was nothing you could have done.”

  I can imagine Brent using his hand to swipe the sadness from his face.

  “You say that, but I can’t help but wonder. Just know, I’m sorry.”

  My tears reappear again. “I know, me too.”

  Brent clears his throat and sniffles. “I’ll see you before you leave. Tell Jason I want to see him, too.”

  I smile at Jason, and agree. “Will do. I’ll call you tomorrow to set something up.”

  We say our goodbyes, and I sit down next to my men.

  “Let’s have a barbeque with Brent and his mom,” I suggest.

  Jason wipes his mouth, and puts his knife and fork down. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  I look over at Duane. He winks at me and gets back to eating.

  That little wink makes the butterflies in my stomach go haywire.

  Unfortunately, the next few days pass in a blur and we aren’t allowed much free time to answer those butterflies.

  One of the local news stations in town asked me to do an interview about everything that happened. Since it was a station I trusted, I agreed, but it led to a media frenzy I wasn’t ready for.

  The interview was televised the following day and by Wednesday, three days after Duane and I found the evidence, every media outlet in the state was calling me—along with one major station in New York

  I answer every station, politely declining, but reporters camped outside of Jason’s house anywa
y, waiting for any kind of interaction. I kindly smile at the cameras, but say nothing. Everything I would ever need to say was said during my one-and-only interview.

  On Thursday, I make the decision to contact a Realtor to sell Dad’s house. Well, I guess technically it’s my house, too, but it never felt like mine after Dad died. Duane and I head back to the property to meet with the agent so its value can be assessed.

  When we pull up to the entrance, hundreds of candles, stuffed animals and balloons sit just outside the gate. Signs that read, ‘Justice for Conrad’ and ‘Rest in peace, Conrad,’ hang from the gate. Someone even printed pictures of Dad out of our local paper, from when he opened up his company, and had them framed.

  Kindness warms my heart, and I weep for the love I still somehow find in this cruel world.

  “What a beautiful gesture,” I say in awe as we pass the memorial.

  The agent we meet is wonderful and understands our desire to just be done with everything that has to do with this process. He sells the house in only one day. A generous buyer offers up cash money, and the whole deal is done by the evening.

  My life in Arizona was no more. The only tie I had to the place was Jason, and thankfully he wasn’t staying here much longer. You know what? I’m not sad. Not even a little bit.

  Duane pulls the car around a scenic corner and I take a deep breath, my eyes taking in the beauty.

  “I don’t know if bravery is the right word, but thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.” I take my eyes off the view to stare at the man sitting next to me.

  Duane shines his bright smile in my direction and my heart does a little flip.

  “I’m glad we decided to drive home,” I say. “I really didn’t want to fly.” Just the thought of getting on a plane makes my blood pressure spike.

  This morning, while we were packing to come home, Duane had surprised me with keys to the rental.

  “How do you feel about driving back to Tennessee?” He had asked with a spark in his eye while jingling the keys in my direction.

  I joyously leapt into his arms and wrapped my legs around his hips and thanked him over and over again with kisses.

  Duane’s laughter brings me back to my surprise road trip. He looks over his shoulder to get off the freeway.

  We’re just outside Amarillo, Texas, and starting get tired. I yawn, and snuggle into my seat.

  “Want to stop for the night?” He asks. “Or we can drive straight through. It’s up to you, Darlin’.”

  I think about stopping for the night, but my bed at home is calling my name. “Let’s keep driving. Unless you’re tired?”

  Duane pulls into a small diner and shakes his head. “Nah, let’s get some dinner, and we can head back out. I know you’re ready to go home. So am I.”

  I unbuckle my seatbelt, and reach for the door handle.

  That sexy ass growl radiates from Duane’s throat. “Red, dammit, don’t you dare open that door.”

  I snicker at his dominant demeanor and happily oblige.

  His strong personality makes me wonder if he’s like that in other aspects of his life. At work, or with his brother—or in bed.

  The thought of having sex has crossed my mind a few hundred times, but I can’t bring myself to be that girl. I’ve only had sex with one other man and rushing into it feels wrong in some ways. I need to make sure what Duane and I have is real. It feels real, so damn real, but I have to be certain.

  Love, it’s kind of like faith. You can’t see it, or touch it, but it exists. Even though I’ve only known him a few weeks, the dormant feeling I didn’t ever think I would feel again has been ignited. He’s brought love back into my life.

  That doesn’t change the fact that I’m still scared. He is very much my knight in shining armor. He rode up on his white steed and saved my heart. He brought me back to life, and saved me from a lifetime of emptiness, but I need to make sure we find ourselves after we get home. In Phoenix, our emotions were heightened.

  You can’t blame a girl for being cautious. He’s freaking gorgeous, he has to have women pining for him. I need to be his one. I need to be his woman. I need to know I’m his only.

  The farther we get from Phoenix, the bigger space Duane takes up in my heart. Nothing has changed since we left. Going home, I hope, only brings us closer together.

  “What do you want to eat, baby?” Duane asks from across the table.

  I scour the menu for anything fried. This is a road trip, right? Might as well live it up. “A burger sounds delicious. Oooh, with a side of fries.”

  Duane wraps his ankle around mine under the table and smiles. “A woman after my own heart.”

  I look at him in question, but he shrugs. I roll my eyes and order a cup of coffee from the waiter, jokingly telling her to bring a glass of creamer to go with it.

  Once our food arrives, we attack it like wild animals. We’ve been on the road for a little more than ten hours and snacking on granola bars and trail mix just doesn’t cut it.

  “Jesus, this is great food. I mean, can you remember the last time you had food that was this good?” I ask, a large bite of burger filling my mouth.

  Duane snorts and takes a bite of his steak. “I think you’re right, Red. This might be the best steak I’ve ever had. Baby, I’m so happy to be here with you.”

  Those damn butterflies are back in full force in my belly, frantically trying to erupt from the inside.

  I reach for his hand, my food forgotten. “Me too. There isn’t anyone else I’d want to be with.”

  Duane brings my hand to his mouth, lifting me slightly from my seat, and sweetly kisses the top. I can’t take the distance anymore; I stand myself up over the table and plant my mouth on his. Duane brings his hand to my neck and kisses me back sweetly.

  When we break away, I open my eyes and blush.

  Duane brushes his rough-skinned thumb across my cheek and kisses my forehead. “Back at you, sweet girl.”

  I sit back in my seat and bark laughter. “So is that our thing now?” I inquire as I pick up my almost-gone burger.

  Duane pops one of my French fries in his mouth and smiles. “Well, it can’t be now. You just ruined it,” he jokes.

  I set my food back down on my plate and pout like a child. “Well, damn.”

  Duane reaches across the table and brushes my bottom lip. “You’re pretty cute when you pout. You know that?”

  I suck my lip back in, and smile just a tiny bit. I know he’s kidding, but I love to play with him. “You’re crazy.”

  Taking another bite of steak, chewing incredibly slowly, he swallows and bats his beautiful eyelashes at me in a silly manner. “Everything is our thing, Red. I think you’ve ruined everything for me. Everything has a memory etched in your honor.”

  Setting my food aside, I pull my hands under my chin. “What do you mean?”

  “From my work boots and my jeans, to my truck and music, you’ve somehow planted a memory for every single thing I’ve come into contact with since I met you. Hell, I’m sure every time I go into my office, I’ll think about you sitting in a chair with your cute cutoff jeans and college t-shirt. You were so nervous, yet so fearless. You’re kind of incredible.”

  I flush and look down at my lap. I’m hardly fearless. I was scared shitless to set foot in my hometown. I mean, sure, I did it, but I was only half as brave because of the man sitting across from me.

  His hazel eyes are shining more green at the moment, and they speak to my being. He gives me the nerve to pick myself up out of my bed in the morning and make life work. He’s given me a reason to live.

  Him. It’s him.

  This thing, this feeling, it has to be real.

  It’s in that moment I don’t care about the fact that our emotions have been heightened in the past week, and that we’ve learned to lean on each other in tough times. I couldn’t care less that we still have to go home and face life. I don’t care that my stupid inner voice is shaking her head at me telling me to take
it slow.

  I need him. He’s the air in my lungs. Scratch that, he is my lungs.

  We get up and pay the check. It’s well past eight at night, but I’m feeling too wired to sleep. “Babe, mind if I drive? All that coffee got to me.”

  Standing outside the convertible, Duane snakes his arms around me and nuzzles my neck. “You can have anything you want.”

  My arms, without a second thought, wrap around his strong, muscled body and I breathe in his manly scent. Even after all of this time away from home, I can still faintly smell alfalfa on his clothes. I need to bathe with whatever body wash he uses, because good God.

  With his face against my neck, he quietly whispers, “You are mine, Red. I can’t share you.”

  Does he really think I’m not his one hundred percent?

  I snuggle closer into his chest and smile. “Yours.”

  I’m diving into the ocean with this man. There is no deep end for me. I’m just plunging straight into the abyss. It’s the only way to go with him. I’ll gladly float, or sink, for him.

  This. Is. It.

  We let each other loose and I turn for the driver’s door. Settling my hand on the sleek door handle, I take a moment to center myself. Being around Duane makes me jittery—in the best possible way. My whole body is on high alert, ready to make this man happy, any way I can. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and settle in the seat.

  “Ready to go home?” I ask as I pull out of the parking lot.

  Duane puts his hand on my jean-covered thigh and squeezes. “As long as we are there together, hell yeah. Let’s go home.”

  My heart does its little flutter thing that makes me think I might have a heart attack, and I gun it onto the freeway, having to concentrate extremely difficult on the task at hand.

  The first couple hours on the road, Duane and I sang to the radio and played ridiculous travel games. There weren’t many cars on the road, being late at night, so we had to make up our own rules. With my eyes full of happy tears, we laughed our way through Oklahoma.

  Around midnight, I told Duane to get some sleep. Wrapping his hand around mine, he quickly fell asleep on the pillow I stole from Jason’s house. With an open road ahead of me, I turn on the local country station and sing my way down the interstate.

 

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