In Too Deep

by Janelle Taylor

  Beer. A cheap drink for cheaper surroundings. He shouldn’t be here at all. He had plans, but Jesus H. Christ, he was in shock.

  Jenny’s kid was no bastard. Jenny’s kid was his son.

  His son!

  The beer arrived. Troy tossed some money in the bartender’s direction, then grabbed the sticks and rapped harder and louder. “Hey!” came a furious yell, and the drummer with the thick beard and even thicker waist appeared wearing a plaid flannel shirt and dumb expression. Morons. They were all morons. The man yanked the drumsticks from Troy’s hands. Troy froze. He wanted to kick the guy in the nuts, but he knew all hell would fall down upon him. He was the outsider here, in pressed chinos and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

  “Hey, little girl,” the drummer whispered in his ear. “You’re in the wrong place. Your kind of boy ain’t here.”

  They thought he was gay? Troy nearly laughed out loud. He made eye contact with a cute little blond in tight, tight jeans and a low-cut bright red blouse, her breasts hanging out. She regarded him anxiously, obviously worried this hayseed would do him bodily harm. “Sorry,” Troy said. “Just had a little nervous energy and wanted to work it off.”

  “Get out of here. Now!”

  Troy flushed. He slid off the barstool, hesitating just a moment. The rest of the members of the band had returned and they were all scowling at him.

  He walked outside into a coolish March night. Houston. He spat on the ground. He wanted to do some real damage to the fucking assholes.

  The door opened behind him and he glanced around quickly. It was the blond. “Whew!” she said. “I thought they was gonna rip you limb from limb.”

  “Me, too. And it was such a shame. I had to leave a full beer.”

  She grinned, relieved at his attitude. “I’m kinda fed up with this place. You wanna go somewhere else?”

  “Where did you have in mind?”

  “We could start at Duffy’s and then just see …”

  He wanted his hands on her. On those ripe breasts and those even riper butt cheeks. He wanted inside her. He wanted to give it to her as hard as he could. He could practically hear her panting and crying already.

  She looked a little bit like Jenny.

  “Lead the way,” he said, smiting.

  Jenny woke up with a start, heart pumping, a sheen of sweat covering her body. Hunter lay beside her, sound asleep.

  It was nearly dawn. She lay in silence for several moments, willing her heartbeat to return to normal. For a moment she couldn’t recall why she felt so anxious, then Hunter’s revelations hit her again, full force.

  Why had he lied?

  She couldn’t fall back asleep to save her soul. She thought about her apartment being burglarized. Was it Troy? Would he break in as a means to terrorize her? Probably. He delighted in pointless cruelty.

  Her next thought was of Rawley. She had to make sure he was all right.

  What am I doing here?

  Sliding out of the bed as quietly as possible, Jenny groped around for her clothes, feeling a bit like a sneak thief. Her blouse and shorts were still damp from the rain. Shivering inside and out, she pulled on her underclothes, stepped into her shorts and buttoned up the shirt with shaking fingers.

  Glancing toward Hunter made her start. He was leaning up on one elbow, watching her.

  “I have to go,” she said hurriedly.

  “I’ll take you.”

  “I can catch a cab.”

  “I’ll take you,” he stated again, more firmly, and climbed out of the bed and reached for his own stillwet clothes.

  The sky was light gray by the time they reached the villa. As soon as Hunter pulled to the curb, Jenny jumped out. Hunter swung himself from the Jeep and crossed in front of the hood to meet her. She could see how his damp shirt clung to his skin and guessed he was as cold as she was.

  “I’ve got to go inside,” she said.

  “Can you get inside?” he asked, and belatedly she remembered how Matt had been unable to rouse anyone when he’d come home in the wee hours of the morning. She’d told Hunter the story last night as a funny anecdote about Magda, Phil and the others. Now she saw it as a serious obstacle.

  Feeling helpless, she pushed the bell. She could hear its chime inside, but she also knew the bedrooms, each equipped with its own air-conditioning unit, were fairly soundproof.

  Turning to Hunter, she wished she could explain her feelings. Then again, she wasn’t certain what they were. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and let him take care of everything; at the same time she was afraid of further involvement with someone she scarcely knew. She cringed when she remembered her brave words yesterday … how she was ready to make another mistake …

  He seemed to be struggling with the same issue. “After last night, I thought it was time to get to the truth.”

  “After last night?” She shivered in the cool air. “What about before?”

  “There are other things to say,” he got out, though it was clearly difficult for him.

  “Hunter, I can’t hear them right now. I’m sorry. I’m overwhelmed. Do you understand?”

  He glanced toward the upstairs balcony. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know!” she declared, almost hysterical. Get away from you!

  “I can bring you back later—”

  “No! I can’t.”

  Suddenly desperate, Jenny wondered if she was going to have to climb to the balcony herself and beat on the stained-glass panels. Then the front door suddenly swung open and a bleary-eyed Matt stood there, wearing only a pair of black silk boxers.

  “Well, hey,” he said, running a hand through his tousled hair.

  Jenny didn’t wait for more. With a terse, “I’ll call you,” thrown over her shoulder that she didn’t mean, she brushed past Matt and hurried up the stairway to her room.

  Seven hours later she sat curled in her airplane seat, still as chilled as she’d been that morning. The flight to Houston had been uneventful—and painful. Jenny had never felt more miserable in her life and there was no one to blame but herself. She’d run out on him. One night of mind-shattering lovemaking, and she’d scurried away. She’d been nothing but eager the night before; nothing but a coward this morning. The shower she’d taken hadn’t warmed her up much. She’d gotten in, gotten out, then packed her things as swiftly as possible. She hadn’t wanted to answer anyone’s questions. She’d just wanted to go home.

  The questions came anyway. Everyone wanted to know about Hunter. She’d dodged them all with the truthful statement that she had to get back and make sure everything was all right in her apartment and with Rawley, not necessarily in that order. Magda and Phil were all over her, asking questions about Hunter that Jenny simply refused to answer. She couldn’t answer them. She didn’t know the answers, for crying out loud! All she knew was that she’d indulged in that one-night stand she’d been dreaming about and it had felt damn good.

  But her flimsy trust in Hunter had been shattered. She didn’t know him. He was a fantasy. That’s all. She should have listened to him in the first place and just let him be her bodyguard. But could she even trust him that far? She could just imagine her father’s reaction if he learned she’d picked up a complete stranger in Puerto Vallarta, asked him to protect her, then spent one incredible night making love with him.

  Apparently her mistakes with Troy had taught her nothing.

  And now Troy knew he was Rawley’s father.

  She shivered again, pulling her sweater more closely around her shoulders. This thought had been knocking around the corners of her brain. Well, if he didn’t actually know, he probably suspected. She didn’t believe for a minute that he was unaware of Rawley’s existence. If Troy was really trying to get back into her life, for whatever reason, then he would have heard of Rawley by now and come to some conclusions.

  She’d been denying this thought because it scared her so much. But it was time to face facts. Hunter might be
fantasy; unfortunately, Troy was reality. And he had probably come back for Rawley. Her dalliance with Hunter was over before it really began—it had to be. Fooling around with a sexy, mysterious man was pure irresponsibility when it came to choosing between that and the safety of her only child.

  You don’t even know how to get hold of him.

  She shook her head, banishing the thought. She’d booked the first available flight and damned the upgrade charge. She had to go home. She wouldn’t let her mind dwell on Hunter—or what he would think of her when he realized she’d bolted not only from his bed but from Puerto Vallarta and his life as well….

  The protests of Magda, Phil, Matt, and a few of the others had fallen on deaf ears. A part of her had halffeared, half-hoped that Hunter might come back after her like some white knight, but he hadn’t. What romantic claptrapl He was probably glad she’d been so quick to walk away. No man wanted a one-night stand to stick around too long.

  Jenny stared out the square airplane window to the limitless blue sky beyond. The drone of the engines made her feel dull and tired. She was glad she’d left before she’d gotten involved with him further, or so she told herself.

  She tried to read a magazine, worked on a crossword puzzle, failed in her concentration on both and resumed staring out the window as they came in for a landing. When she got in the terminal she was going to call Janice straightaway. Rawley was getting home tomorrow, but she didn’t want to wait. She wanted to pick him up tonight, or at least go see him for herself.

  They bumped onto the runway and taxied to the gate moments later. Jenny waited to get into the aisle, feeling impatient, but by the time she’d deplaned and arrived at baggage claim, weariness seemed to drag her bones down. Beneath that she could feel a tenderness inside, the physical memory of a night of lovemaking that still had the power to momentarily stop her breath.

  Again, a strange feeling overtook her, that sense of being watched. Shivering, she whipped around. A few people looked back curiously, while others waited for their bags. She started to turn back, feeling foolish, when a familiar profile caught her eye. Troy!

  Her eyes widened and then the man turned and smiled at an approaching little girl. Not Troy. Not Troy at all.

  The man swept the little girl into his arms, then reached out to embrace the young mother. They all smiled.

  Jenny turned away. Troy never smiled. Not unless you counted the cold grin of someone who’d bested an opponent. She’d seen that smile in her nightmares over the years.

  Reaching out, she grabbed her rollaway off the baggage carousel, set it on its wheels and clicked up the handle.

  “Excuse me.” Jenny flinched. She glanced at the stern-looking man who’d spoken. “Don’t look so scared,” he told her as he squeezed past her. “I just wanted to get my bag before it goes around again.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” She grabbed the handle and quickly wheeled it outside into the oppressive Houston air. Muggy. She’d lived here almost all her life but now she couldn’t wait to get to Santa Fe’s crisp desert atmosphere.

  What was wrong with her? She was jumping at shadows.

  She took a cab home, watching the familiar landmarks pass by as she neared her apartment: the stop sign with the smiley face in its center; the little strip mall that boasted Michelangelo’s Antiques and Magoo’s Sunglasses; the pothole in the center of the road just outside the entryway to the complex.

  As soon as the cabbie pulled up, she felt her heart constrict. Searching her feelings, she acknowledged her fear of facing what the intruder had done. And her fears for Rawley—and herself.

  “Thanks,” she said, tipping well as she paid the fare. Pulling her bag to the wrought iron gate of the courtyard, she headed up the outdoor staircase, lugging it to the upstairs landing.

  A shiny new doorknob gleamed against a freshly painted blue door. Of course the manager had replaced the door, but it simply hadn’t occurred to her until this moment. She went in search of him and the new key. Whoever it was could just come back and steal her clothes. She’d be damned if she’d haul that bag down the stairs again.

  Luckily, Diego, the manager, was home and had the key ready. He shook his head and murmured how terrible it was for her to be burglarized, a sentiment Jenny fully agreed with. “You want me to check it out with you?” he asked. “I was with the police, you know. Nothing was harmed while I was there.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks. I appreciate it, and I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

  “No problem.” He waved her away. “You need anything, you come over here.”

  “Thanks, Diego.”

  Back at the door, she inserted the key and smoothly turned the lock. The tumblers clicked over and she pushed the door inward, holding her breath as she flipped on the lights.

  Jenny tentatively stepped inside and locked the door behind her, feeling instantly lonely. Without her son around, the place seemed desolate … and much too quiet. She wheeled her bag down the hall and shot a look toward Rawley’s room. The door was closed and she pushed it open.

  She smiled. Same utter mess. Feeling better, she examined every square inch of the apartment and ended up in her bedroom. She shucked off her clothes and stepped into her second shower of the day and let the water run over her. She didn’t want to think about anything. Not Rawley, not Troy, not Hunter.

  Fifteen minutes later she poured herself a cup of freshly brewed coffee and sorted through the mail that Janice had left on the counter. She glanced toward the phone where a triple-fold picture frame held pictures of Rawley when he was a baby, an elementary school kid in soccer gear, and his freshman photo where he stared at the camera with the harsh intensity of a criminal getting a mug shot.

  A frisson slid down her back and she glanced around as if someone had come into the room without her knowing it. She quickly picked up the receiver to phone Janice, who answered on the first ring.

  “I’m going to the soccer camp today,” Jenny said without preamble. “I’ve got to pick up Rawley.”

  “You’re back?” Janice asked, alarmed.

  “I’m worried. I can’t help it.”

  “Well, don’t run over there. Phone first… Oh, Jenny, I’m sorry I called you.”

  “No, don’t worry about it,” she assured her friend. “Really. I was so ready to come home anyway. I’m glad you called.”

  “Oh, I know I’m going to be in trouble,” she murmured. “They gave us that number for the camp. Let me see…”

  “I’ve probably got it here.”

  “No, it’s a different one. More direct. Hang on.” Jenny waited while Janice dropped the receiver and went in search of the number. It seemed to take forever. Finally she came on the line with the information. “They’re done tomorrow. They’re fine,” Janice added.

  “I know. Thanks.” Jenny rang off. Instantly she phoned the camp, then suffered through several people who knew absolutely nothing before she finally got someone in charge. They tried to get her off the phone by promising to have Rawley call her, but Jenny stubbornly refused and eventually someone went in search of him.

  “Mom?” Rawley’s voice sounded cautious. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Now,” she said with relief. She had so many things to say and couldn’t think of one of them. “I just got back early and I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Well, okay, but I’m missing the game,” he said.

  “Go back to it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah … okay,” he murmured vaguely, lost in his own interests.

  She hung up, so spent she had to sit down. Sinking onto the couch, she held her head in her hands. Her heart beat as if she’d just run a marathon. Parenthood. It made you so vulnerable and children were so unaware!

  The phone rang and she jumped to answer it. “Hello?” she said, hearing the lilt in her voice at the thought that it might be Hunter. How silly! She knew better.

  There was no response. She listened. The line sounded open, but there wasn’t even the sound of
anyone’s breathing. Troy. His name formed on her lips but died, unspoken. She had an eerie feeling about the call. Something like she’d felt at the airport. Slowly replacing the receiver, she stared at it until her eyes felt dry and teary.

  She wished Hunter would call.

  She knew he wouldn’t.

  The plane screeched onto the tarmac, bumped hard and blasted forward as if they were launching into space. Not the smoothest of landings, Hunter thought. The woman next to him clutched her throat and made choked sounds of fear, but he simply gripped the arms of his seat and tried not to mind too much that Jenny had walked out on him.

  If it weren’t so damned infuriating it might be funny. If it weren’t so inconvenient, he might sneak away, tail between his legs and forget all about it. Normally he didn’t care so much. Normally, he stayed away from females who were no good for him.

  But there was nothing normal about Hunter’s ongoing interaction with Jenny Holloway. Now, he had to chase her down and take the snub as if he were a lovesick kid, unable to leave her alone. And why? Because he’d told Allen Holloway he would protect her!

  He slammed the armrest with his fist, which caused another chirp of fear from his companion. “Bad flight,” he muttered, but she just looked at him through huge eyes. She was the worst kind of white-knuckled flyer and his dark thoughts and grim attitude hadn’t helped the situation. He wondered if she would blink if he ran his hand in front of her face a couple of times. She looked. catatonic. Except for the mews of terror slipping from her lips, she seemed frozen in place.

  He was glad to finally get out of the plane, and he practically shoved his way through the meandering throngs outside. Humidity enveloped him. He breathed deeply anyway, feeling suffocated and irritable, as if every nerve ending were aflame. Hard to believe that, in the very recent past, he’d suffered from depression and boredom so intense that he’d sometimes wondered if life were truly worth living. Hah! Those days were gone. For a moment he felt a pang of nostalgia. Numbness was better than rawness.