Stay: Changing Tides, Book 1

by Candi Wall

  She’d never recognized the extent of his dislike for his brother before. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that.”

  Gigi’s shrill laughter interrupted his dark scowl. He glanced at the woman, twirling nearby in Brack’s arm. “What’s so funny?”

  Brack sidled them closer, catching and holding Abby’s gaze. Concern creased his brow, and she forced a smile. Rand’s hold tightened so she returned her attention to her partner, but his lingering scowl disappeared on a heavy sigh. “Oh, hell. This is too much like work.”

  In the next instant he swung her in Brack’s direction and spun Gigi from his grasp. They shifted away before Abby caught her breath. She was left standing in Brack’s arms, his heat, his powerful presence. His incredible temptation. She struggled for words, but he placed a finger against her lips. “Let’s just enjoy this.”

  The music slowed. His finger left her lips, but the heat of his touch remained. They moved through the others dancing, his heartbeat strong beneath her fingers. He shared passing comments with others, the deep rumble of his voice more soothing than the relaxed, easy atmosphere of the party.

  Sadness gripped at her chest with viselike talons. She had to tell him, even if he rejected her.

  Brack and Jonathon were strong. They’d survived a huge loss. They welcomed her, wanted her…

  Brack’s hand tightened against her back. “What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

  Unshed tears burned thick at her throat. “Just wishing things were different.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  His soft smile shifted the bricks in her walls of defense. “Not right now. But I want you to know I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve spent with you and Jonathon, no matter what happens.”

  He stopped, arms tightening around her. “Don’t, Abby. Don‘t you dare say goodbye.”

  Tears filled her eyes. So much for being strong. They spilled over to her cheeks, blinding her to everything but the sadness in his gaze.

  A low, frustrated growl brushed her cheek, his arms shaking. “I’m not letting it end like this. Come on.”

  He pulled her through the crowd, ignoring numerous greetings. She kept her head down, hiding the tears stalled by their sudden departure. They skirted the auction tent and walked quickly across the unused portion of the fairgrounds to a small stream bordered by huge pines. The music faded, the lights from the party twinkling merrily in cadence to the beat.

  Brack let go of her hand and paced away. He needed to focus. He needed to make her understand. He didn’t look at her. For now, he needed the distance from her emotion. “Abby, why are you leaving?”

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  He turned back, uncertainty and fear closing in. “And if I was to ask you to stay?”

  Her fingers trembled as she covered her soft gasp. Moonlight sparkled through the fresh tears on her soft skin. “It’s not that simple. Please, you have to understand, there’s more to me than what you know.”

  “Wait. First tell me this—” he closed the distance between them, cupping her face to meet his gaze, “—if you felt you had a choice, would you stay?”

  The question hung thick in the air between them. Her lips trembled, her soft gaze sad as she reached up to brush her fingers over his lips. “If I thought I could stay here without bringing you and Jonathon pain, I would.”

  That was a start. “But you won’t tell me why?”

  She took a deep breath. “We all have secrets. Some worse than others.”

  “None so bad that they can’t be shared.”

  “I know that now.” A soft bark of laughter shook her. “But it does sound strange coming from the man who thinks to control life. You’ve never once shared your reasons for who you are. For what makes you so controlling. So cautious when it comes to life.”

  And he’d never planned to. Until now. If letting her see his pain might make her stay, he was willing to take that chance. He stepped back, forcing himself to focus on anything but the concern in her gaze.

  The image of that day hadn’t lessened in detail. It filled his mind. “We were out for a trip to Seal Cove. Not the best day by any means, but Ellen and I had promised the boys we would take them before school started again. I’ve always hated the rush of the tourist season, especially out on the water.”

  She said nothing, her fingers curling into his chest. Her presence alone kept him solidly in the moment they shared. He didn’t want to drift off into the memory of that day completely as he’d done so many times before.

  “The storm farther south made the swells a bit higher than what we normally liked, but it wasn’t dangerous, even the Coast Guard reports hadn’t reached a small-craft warning yet. There were more boats out than we expected, so we took an alternate route around Angler’s Island. The detour added a few minutes to our time, but it was worth it to avoid the traffic.

  “We spent the day on the beach. The waves crashing on the shore as the boys ran in and out of the surf. Jonathon used to ride the waves in. He’d lie on his stomach in the sand, not a bit of weight to him, and the strength of the waves would float him forward as if he were a surfboard. Happy times. I remember Jeremy tossing his sandwich crusts to the seagulls and being terrified when they swarmed him.” He laughed despite the despair the coming memories sifted to the surface.

  “That’s a beautiful picture.”

  “It was.” He sighed, holding his emotions in check. He wanted to share this. Never before had the need to recount this story meant as much as it did now. Before, with authorities then family, he’d just stated the facts, lost in his grief and unable to share the beauty of the day before the tragedy.

  “We packed up and had barely made the first pass out of the island’s protective cove when I realized the weather had changed. The Coast Guard warnings had gone up, and were calling for an increase in winds. We decided not to take the longer route back and opted for the straight return. Jonathon did well out on the boat, but when the weather was too rough, Jeremy suffered from seasickness.

  “Everything was fine, we were making good time and the weather was holding. We’d just turned in the direction of the harbor when I noticed a boat near the shoreline. It drifted on the water, closer to shore than a boat of that size should have with the rocky ledges nearby. After watching it carefully, we weren’t able to see anyone aboard. I steered us closer, still unable to see anyone and it didn’t look like the anchor had been dropped.”

  Tension built along his shoulders. He took Abby’s hand and pulled her to one of the boulders near the stream. He sat down and waited until she sat with him. Her encouraging nod pushed him on.

  “I anchored our boat and after hollering for several minutes to get someone’s attention, I decided to swim over. Ellen asked me to wait. She told me to let the Coast Guard help. But I told her I couldn’t stand by if someone needed help. She smiled, you know. She always understood. She radioed in to the Coast Guard when I jumped in the water. She told me to be careful. Told me she loved me. And that’s when everything became a blur. I reached the other boat quickly and boarded. No one was there, the engine was still running, but the throttle was set to idle. It listed slightly, and when I checked the forward hatch I could see water below. Nothing major. Something a bilge pump could have handled.”

  Sweat broke on his clammy skin even in the chill of the evening air. Abby’s hand tightened on his arm, and he laced his fingers into hers.

  “I yelled the information back to Ellen so she could update the Coast Guard station, then checked the compartments for identification records, registrations, anything I could find. My back was turned, but I heard the heavy whine of a nearing boat. I honestly thought one of the Coast Guard skimmers had arrived. But then there was a crash. Even from a distance it sounded like a cannon had gone off.

  “There were four of them in the speedboat. Kids from Connecticut, up for a vacation from college. They’d been drinking, heavily, and the one that survived said they never saw us when they came around
the shore. They hit the Pipe Dream at full speed from behind. I remember little but the sound of the impact and the fire that erupted almost instantly. Fuel spreads quickly, and the crash had punctured the fuel tank on our boat.

  “I think I jumped in before Ellen or the boys hit the water. I’m not even sure if they jumped or were thrown. But they didn’t even have time to get their lifejackets on. I remember the sound of Ellen’s scream, Jeremy yelling for me, my fear that Jonathon, not being able to hear, would float away without me. I tried to get to them, but something heavy hit me. Between the fire, the swells and the dizziness, I could barely see.

  “All I remember is being hauled into another boat. Jonathon was there—alive. Ellen was unconscious, and Jeremy’s face was blue. I tried, Christ I tried to bring him back. They both died, Abby. Both of them. And all because I made a stupid decision. It’s my fault they’re gone. That’s why I try so hard to keep everything in control. That’s why I expect everyone to follow the rules to the letter. If I’d stayed on my own boat, I could have moved, maybe seen the other boat in time. Done something. Anything.”

  There was no holding back her tears now. Abby wrapped her arms around him and cried for what he’d gone through. She couldn’t fault him for thinking that way. But she couldn’t agree with his guilt. She sat back, brushing her palm over his jaw. “Brack, you couldn’t have done anything. If you’d been there with them, you might have died as well.”

  He sighed. “Better than living without them. With this guilt.”

  “No.” She pressed a kiss to his lips, tasting the salt of her tears. “No. Then where would Jonathon be? You are here for a reason, and it’s not to live with this guilt crushing your soul. You did what anyone would have done. I didn’t know Ellen or Jeremy, but I know anyone who knows and loves you would be proud of what you’d done. What you tried to do to help. It was an accident.”

  This time, his lips met hers and he pulled her into his lap, his fingers laced in her hair. “It still hurts.”

  And it probably always would. “You’ll always hurt from losing them. But they wouldn’t want you to be like this. They’d want you to live.”

  His deep sigh pressed their bodies closer. “Doing and saying are two different animals.”

  “I know.” She ran her fingers through his. “And I don’t have any room to talk. I let my own issues dictate my actions. I just want you to know how honored I am that you shared this with me. You’re an incredible, smart, honest man, Brack. And it’s hard—”

  A huge crash and several disgruntled yells from the party stalled her statement. Brack stood, setting her on her feet to squint toward the tents. “What was that?”

  “I have no idea.” She stood on tiptoe trying to see over the small incline. “Guess we’d better go see.”

  He nodded, but his hand slipped into hers, and with a gentle tug, he pulled her into his arms.

  “In a minute,” he whispered over her lips. “There’s something else I want to do right now.”

  He didn’t wait for her to respond. The heavy press of his mouth sparked fire in her body. She inched closer, hungry for his kiss. What he’d shared tonight, opening up and letting her in, meant more to her than he would ever know. She could see him healing now. See him in the future, happy and without the heavy burden of guilt. He would make a good life for himself and his son. And when she shared her past, maybe, just maybe, she could be part of that life.

  Another angry shout broke through the delicious spell and she pulled back, her breaths ragged with the need he evoked. “I have some things I’d like to tell you as well. I should have shared sooner, but it sounds like we’ll have to wait until later.”

  With a sexy grin that promised they would talk, he grabbed her hand. The shouts became louder and more agitated as they neared the tents.

  “Beatrice! Beatrice? Where’s my daughter, you fucking assholes? What did you do to her?”

  Abby stopped cold as the familiar voice broke the night air.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Crazed, drunk, out of control.

  Brack stared at the older version of Abby as the woman threw a chair aside after stumbling over it. The partygoers stood in a large circle around her while Abby tried to calm her down.

  “Mom, stop. I’m fine.” She moved closer, her pace slow and hands held out. “Look at me. I’m okay.”

  “Everyone wants my baby.” The older woman’s eyes darted at the onlookers. “I thought they were hiding you.”

  “No. I was just taking a walk.” Brack fisted his hands when Abby managed to get a hold of her mother’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go to my place? We can catch up and you can get some rest.”

  The woman jerked her shoulder away, and Brack took a step forward. Mother or not, he wasn’t going to let Abby get hurt.

  “I don’t want to go to your place. Why not stay here at the party?” The woman twirled around in an off-balance dance, her voice sing-songed along. “I love parties!”

  “Mom, we need to leave.” Brack’s heart went out to Abby. Color flushed her cheeks and throat, the angry furrow of her eyebrows not quite hiding her embarrassed glances at the people around her. “Please.”

  Maggie Blake stepped forward, the therapist in her obviously taking over. “Abby, can I help with anything?”

  “Stay back,” Abby pleaded. “You’ll make it worse.”

  Abby’s mother turned at the new voice, her eyes squinted. “Who’s the fat ass?”

  “Mother! Let’s go. Now!” Abby tugged at her arm and threw an apologetic glance at Maggie. “I’m so sorry.”

  Rubbing her pregnant belly, Maggie smiled. “Nothing to it.”

  “Let me go, you stupid bitch.” A sadistic snarl curved the woman’s mouth. She grabbed at her hair, ripping at it as she stumbled away from Abby’s reach. “You just want to get rid of me again. Go ahead. Call the police. Lock your mother away like before. You fucking cunt! You’ve always hated me. Always left me.”

  Tears streaked Abby’s cheeks, the color draining as she attempted to catch her mother’s arm again. But her mom just moved farther out of reach, and the crowd parted fractionally to avoid the crazed woman. Then her bumbling steps took her sideways into a portion of the crowd. She thrashed around, pushing people out of the way as Abby grabbed her around the chest from behind.

  She kicked her feet out in front of her, knocking Adam Little over in the process. Abby dragged her aside to check on the seven-year-old boy staring up at her with wary eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “He’s fine.” Adam’s father knelt to check on his son. “Just get her away from my son or I’ll call the police.”

  Abby’s mother screeched incoherent words at the man and ripped her arms free. She jerked around, her elbow catching Abby in the face. Blood trickled from a split in her lip, and Brack stormed forward. “Let me help, Abby.”

  She swiped at her mouth and nodded. “Mom, this is Brack Elliot, captain of the local fire and rescue department.” With a small shake of her head, she continued, “Brack, my mother, Cheri.”

  Assessing the situation, he nodded to Cheri. “Should I physically remove her?”

  Abby pressed her sweatshirt to her lip. “She bites too.”

  Damn. “Do you want me to call the police?”

  “Mom, did you hear that?” She moved around to catch her mother’s vacant stare. “They’re going to call the police. Do you want to come with me? Or will I see you later, in a jail cell?”

  Cheri stopped her mumbling and faced her daughter. Then her gaze focused somewhere in the distance, and Brack felt the weight of their insanity. She smelled of beer and sweat, her long blond hair dragging in greasy strands down her face and shoulders. It took a moment for her eyes to settle on him but when they did, she smiled. Well, kind of. It resembled more of a crooked twist.

  “Is this who’ll take me in?” She sidled closer, her hands drifting over the front of his shirt. “Wanna handcuff me too? I won’t complain.”

  And then she vomite
d. Right on his boots.

  “Mom!” Abby grabbed her again, this time, steering her toward the parking lot while she was too sick to fight. “I’m so sorry, everyone. Go back to the party.”

  Brack followed and after scuffing his boots through a large puddle near the parking lot, he rushed to catch up with her. She moved at a good pace, probably to keep her mother in motion. Even sick, the woman kept badgering her to take her back to the party.

  When he finally caught up, Abby’s angry scowl and pale complexion worried him. “Hey, you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She bit the words out and pushed her mother to lean against the car. Fishing through her pocket, she pulled out her keys. “Go back to your friends, Brack. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of this. Hell, it’s just the same-old thing in a brand-new place.”

  He grabbed the keys from her hand and unlocked the car door. “New or old, I want to help.”

  She helped her mother into the passenger seat. With a low moan, Cheri sprawled across the seat, and Abby had to tuck her legs in before she could close the door. She didn’t move, her hand gripped tight to the roof of the car. Without turning, she said, “This is why I run, Brack. This is why I can’t build a life anywhere. No one wants to deal with this or even be around it. She’s ruined more potential new starts than I care to count, and even when I gave up and moved somewhere new, she ended up finding me. Just like now.”

  “There are worse things in the world than a drunken mother, Abby.” He gently turned her to face him. “Look at me. This isn’t a reason to move again. It isn’t a reason to leave me.”

  The dead emotion in her eyes scared him. “Yes it is. Can you imagine having to deal with this all the time? She gets better, then worse. Always there’s the promise that she’ll get help, take her meds and stay clean. But she never does.”

  His strong, competent, rule-breaking Abby was running from an alcoholic mother? It didn’t make any sense. “Do you have any idea how many of those people back there have a relative or two with this same problem?”