Resist Me (Unchained Attraction Book 4)

by K. L. Shandwick

  “Okay, how do you want to do this?” he asked, staring at me over the breakfast table after hearing the message I’d left for my mother.

  “I’m going to tell Marnie we’re going over there, and we have something we want to talk to them about.”

  James leaned over the table and placed his hand over mine. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “Absolutely. My dad is almost eighty years old. Don’t you think he deserves to know the family lineage doesn’t stop with us before he leaves this world?

  “You have a point, but what do you think knowing about Erin will do to him?”

  “Do you think I’m being selfish?” I asked, narrowing my eyes and studying James’ face.

  “No, baby … I don’t,” he said, reaching across the table and covering my hand with his, “but it’s tricky. He is an old man, and what happens to him and your mom’s relationship afterward?” I cringed, because no matter what I did someone would undoubtedly suffer.

  “You think I shouldn’t do it? What if you were my dad? Would you want to know or stay ignorant?”

  James held his breath and thought for a while, then exhaled. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him?” he asked, tentatively his eyes boring into mine like he was torn for an answer.

  “You wouldn’t want to know?”

  “This isn’t about me, so I could only answer for myself, not your father. I can’t tell you what to do, Tricia. You know him better than me. I’ve met the man once, and although I thought he appeared kind and sensitive, I don’t know him. You have one doozy of a dilemma, that’s for sure,” he took my hand in his, leaned over and kissed my fingertips, “but whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

  Picking up my knife, I grabbed a piece of toast, buttered it, and bit off a huge chunk. Chewing it slowly, I sat quietly, imagining all the ways my news could possibly be taken. When thoughts turned to my mother, I had felt so frustrated tears threatened to rise. I swallowed them back in defiance because although there was no good way to share my news, it had still felt too big of a secret to hold on to.

  James rose from the table, came around to my side of it, and kissed me on top of my head. He left his face in my hair for a moment longer, inhaling the fragrance I knew he loved.

  “I could stand here all day smelling you,” he murmured, and I chuckled, his nearness immediately calmed me. “But …” He inhaled again and stood straight. “I’d better start getting ready. I have back-to-back meetings today. What time are you leaving for New Jersey?” I sighed because after a year, my back and forth trips to New Jersey had begun to get old.

  When I’d first gotten with James, he’d suggested our living arrangements. I stayed in New York Monday through Wednesday. Thursdays, I spent in New Jersey at my own place, catching up on closings and other paperwork that had required my signature. Fridays to Sunday afternoons, James stayed with me before we’d travel back to the city on Sunday evenings.

  I’d been restless about the toing and froing for a while, but although James had asked me to move in officially, I had begun to suspect our existing living arrangements had been pretty well set in his mind.

  I was still thinking about this as I shook myself out of my robe and stepped into the shower. The moment my hair was wet, my cell phone rang.

  “Would you grab that, James?” I asked, opening the shower door again. Closing the door, I washed and rinsed my hair, thinking James had taken a message.

  “Who was it?” I called out, as I basked in the warmth of the fine needle sprays. I cocked my head and listened for a response. When James never replied, I thought he hadn’t heard me until I turned to wash my face and heard him open the door. Glancing toward, him I noted his shirt buttons were still undone and he wasn’t dressed. Leaning past me, he turned the faucet off and held out a towel.

  “Can you come out, baby?” he asked in a gentle tone, holding the bath sheet up to wrap around me.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I asked, instantly alarmed as I searched his worried eyes with concern.

  “Let me dry you and we can talk,” he pleaded, as he began wrapping the towel around me as I stood stiffly, dripping wet in the shower.

  “What the hell is it, James, you’re scaring me?” I shrieked, as he caught me in the warmth of the bath sheet, pulled me out of the shower, and into his chest.

  “It’s your mom, Tricia,” he replied quietly. The look of heartbreak on his face told me it was bad news.

  Everything stopped. My heart—my breathing—him talking. The silence lasted a second or two, and in the space inside my head it had sounded deafening, until I heaved a deep breath and my heartbeat pounded in my chest when I exhaled.

  “My mom?” I questioned, sounding flat, unfeeling, and if I’m honest, totally agitated at the thought she’d done something else to hurt me. What has she done now? It would have been typical of her to have created a distraction from the real matter at hand.

  “Let’s sit down,” James coaxed. His soft placating tone did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest as he ushered me toward the bedroom and sat me down on the bed.

  “Now you’re really scaring me,” I mumbled, searching his face for the answer as to why he’d been so eager to pull me out from the shower.

  “Your dad woke up this morning and your mom was still in bed. I guess she usually got up before him, but…”

  “Are you saying she’s dead?” I blurted, frustrated that James appeared to be talking so much, yet not saying anything at all. It suddenly made sense why James had struggled to find words.

  “Yeah, baby… she passed in her sleep.” The look of pain in James’ eyes filled me with anger.

  “Fuck,” I spat, rushing to my feet. “How dare she,” I replied, irrationally, “this is classic of how desperate she’s been not to face the music. Sure, the mess was mine to begin with, but the rest has been down to her and her fucking secrets. Now, I’m the one who is left alone to face the wrath of my dad and Marnie for helping her hide the decision she made.”

  For a solid minute I paced the floor rambling, the towel having slipped from my body until James wrapped me in his arms and hugged me tight to his chest.

  “Tricia, come on. Let’s go and sit down. You’re in shock,” he said quietly, trying to instil some calm into me.

  “Shock? I’m fucking livid,” I remarked, roughly rubbing my forehead, like that could have somehow erased what he’d told me. “Don’t you realize, James? Whatever I say now, Marnie and my dad will think I’m being malicious because they’ll only have my side of the story. I can hear them now, ‘Don’t speak ill of the dead, Tricia. You should have more respect for your mom’.”

  “Sitting room, now, Tricia,” James snapped, and my gaze immediately locked into his. Sobered by his sharp tone, I blinked, stunned and confused because he had raised his voice toward me, but when he did my mind went blank.

  Taking me to the couch, James sat me down beside him and pulled me back into his arms. As soon as he hugged me, I felt safe, despite the shocking news I’d received.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout, but you looked on the verge of hysteria. That was Marnie who called. Your dad called her at 6:00 this morning and she went straight over to their house. Your dad called 911 when he couldn’t wake your mom and then he called Marnie. She said when she arrived at 7:00, the paramedics were leaving, and they told her your mom had likely been dead for several hours before your father made the call. He’s heartbroken, she said. Naturally, Marnie sounded shaken. I told her we’d go down there later this morning.”

  “You have meetings all—”

  “Forget them. I’m not going to work. You need me more than my job. I’m not leaving you. Rhea can take care of things, she’s more than capable. Anything that needs to be signed off can be couriered down to New Jersey or over to my father. I’ll bring him up to speed later. Now, will you be okay to get dressed?”

  I nodded, and he kissed my temple, his studious eyes searched my face for signs to reassure hims
elf. “Okay, baby, just take it easy. I’ll make a couple of calls and go pack a weekend bag for you. We’ve got most things at your place anyway, it’s just the paperwork on the office table, right?” I nodded again and wondered why the hell a man like James was still with me. Since we’d gotten together all he had to deal with was grief.

  As James stowed our paperwork in our separate briefcases, I went back to the bedroom and rummaged through my underwear drawer for a matching thong to a bra to put on. I had felt hyper-focused on that task because it had been hard to concentrate on anything in that moment, and I knew without something to do I’d have fallen to pieces. Pulling on my underwear, my body locked in shock. Why did she die? Was it my fault she had died?

  Willing myself to focus, I shook the thought off and zipped up the jeans I’d pulled on, and my thoughts turned to my poor father. They had been married for over fifty odd years. No matter what I thought of my mom, the last thing I had ever wanted was for my father to be left alone.

  “All set?” James asked, shoving open the bedroom door. Flashing me a small sympathetic smile he held out a hand. “Let’s go, baby, you got this.”

  Chapter Seven

  For the best part of an hour I cried, for my mom, my dad, myself … and for Erin. There had been so many thoughts in my head they ended up drowning each other out. James drove to the speed limits on the I-95 and as the interstate traffic had been steady the journey down to New Jersey had felt quicker than usual. I’d missed most of it locked down in sorrow.

  “God, I’m a mess.”

  “No, you’re stronger for crying, Tricia. You had me scared back at the apartment. You were so angry. Now we’re here, you can be stronger for your father. He’ll need all the emotional support you can give him to get through the next few days and months ahead.”

  “Since you’ve been with me, I’ve been nothing but trouble,” I mumbled, feeling unworthy of all his attention. I felt tired of being miserable, facing shit from my life I had no control over, and if I felt like that, how the hell James had stuck with me and still loved me the same had felt beyond my comprehension.

  Walking into the house, it had immediately felt different, and I realized how intimidated coming home had been in the past. As weird as it sounded, I felt less anxious knowing Mom wouldn’t be there. Marnie was making coffee when we entered the kitchen, and the moment she saw me, her face crumpled up in grief, and she cried.

  “It’s okay,” I soothed, rubbing her back as she clung tightly to me. Franco came into the kitchen and shook James’ hand.

  “Died in her bed,” he informed James, even though James had taken the call from my sister. “Last way I expected her to go. Probably pissed her off she never went out in a blaze of glory.” James looked awkward and glanced out toward the patio through the window, but I didn’t miss the smirk teasing his lips. Trust Franco to say what none of us had thought to think.

  “Let me go to Dad,” I said, as I pulled out of Marnie’s embrace and made my way through to the sitting room. Dad was staring out the window, lost in thought when I wandered over to him.

  “Dad?” I asked, kneeling beside him. Within seconds we were locked in a hug. It was the first time he’d felt frail in my arms, and it was that fact alone that brought a lump to my throat. I heard him inhale, felt it too, as his breath sucked in my presence when he drew comfort from me.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” I said, because I truly was. I was sad for him, sad for Marnie, and sad that I didn’t feel as desperately sad about her loss as I should have. An attack of guilt mingled with distress hit me with that thought and I burst into tears, because when all was said and done, she had still been my mom.

  James and Franco had been the very people my father needed, talking to him late into the night. First about my mom, then more generally about life and their passions, and at around 3:00 a.m. the following morning after my mom had died, my father finally fell asleep in his chair.

  Marnie and I didn’t sleep much at all, talking about the memorial service my mom had typically arranged on her own. We both laughed when my father had directed Marnie to a box in the cabinet that had held all the details. From songs and verses she’d wanted read out, to what she’d wanted to say to my father, right down to the rose-colored casket with the brushed brass handles she preferred.

  Right to the end our mom had been controlling, ensuring everything was done to her tune. As in life, she had manipulated her own funeral, guaranteeing she’d had the last word until she became dust.

  The day Mom was buried it rained, in fact, it had rained so hard the pastor could hardly be heard as he committed her body to the ground. My grandma used to say, “Happy are the dead when it rains,” which I had thought was strange since the dead were under the ground, but whatever.

  In my view, I’d hoped she was because my mom had never been happy in life since she cared so much what other people thought, instead of focusing on what should have been most important in her thoughts—us.

  James and Franco had taken care of my father all during the wake and into the evening, sticking close to his side, ensuring he’d felt supported, while Marnie and I played the dutiful daughters and hosted the wake in Mom’s name. It had been a long harrowing day for all of us and by the time the last person left I’d felt drained.

  “Thank God, that’s over with,” Marnie stated, kicking off her heels and spreading her toes on the carpet after I’d closed the door on the last guest. “What are we going to do now for drama since our mom’s not around anymore?” My eyes locked into hers and we stood in a stare for what felt like a moment too long. “Jesus, what? Don’t tell me you’re pregnant or something?” she asked, in her usual no-nonsense tone. I knew it had been her noir sense of humor that had spoken, but she’d had no possible idea how close to the mark her comment had been.

  I’m not sure whether it had been due to the recent grief I had suffered, the anger I’d felt about my mom’s sudden departure, or it had been more of a case of not being able to hold on to my secret a moment longer I heard myself say, “Yeah, about that.” Marnie chuckled, but when she saw how seriously I stared at her, her smile froze on her face.

  Gasping, her jaw hung slack for a second. “You’re not … are you?” She shook her head, her voice sounded slightly hysterical. “I mean, isn’t it too late?” she babbled, looking confused and desperately trying to find something else to say.

  “No, I’m not pregnant—”

  “Fuck, Tricia, don’t do that to me. You really had me going for a minute there,” she interjected, cutting me off.

  “But I do have something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you from the beginning.”

  The instant the words were out, my heart rate doubled and I fought hard without success to control a bout of nerves that took over my body. Shaking uncontrollably as I stood behind the breakfast bar, I leaned on the countertop for support and took a deep breath when I prepared to share my story.

  “You remember shortly after your basic training, you got stationed down in Maryland, and then later that autumn how you were deployed overseas?

  “Yeah?” she questioned, looking puzzled.

  “Remember how Bradley went to visit his grandpa and I was devastated you were both going away, leaving me alone for the summer? So for most of that summer I stayed home, but I was tutoring math with Donnie Clark.”

  “He got a full scholarship to Maine, right?” Marnie asked. I nodded, angry that his life had gone on for a while carefree, while mine had never been the same since that night.

  “Well, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come straight out with it. Donnie and I had gotten quite close again through that vacation because we’d spent so much time studying together, but I was invited to a party by Alice, Jenna, and Sandra and I got really drunk. You remember Alice’s brother, Kent?” Marnie nodded. “He drove us all home and Donnie walked me up the path to our place, but I was too drunk and knew I’d never make it across that branch to my bedroom wi
thout killing myself or Mom catching me. Donnie suggested we go to his barn and… I slept with Donnie.” Marnie wrinkled her nose at the thought of me with Donnie.

  “Donnie Clark?”

  I nodded. “I was so drunk that night I had no idea I had when I woke up. I’d thought I’d dreamed it because of the alcohol … until I saw my panties on the floor and the memory came flooding back.”

  Marnie shrugged. “We all did stupid things at sixteen, Tricia.”

  “No, listen. Yes, that was stupid, but I need to tell you something I should have admitted that night here when you were talking about your DNA test. Erin? The woman who contacted you on that DNA tracking site, or whatever it’s called.” I took Marnie’s hand. “You really are her maternal aunt, because she’s my daughter.”

  My sister’s face looked ashen, her tired drawn appearance from grief suddenly several shades paler than it already had been.

  “Wha … how … I mean … fuck, are you serious?” Jumping to her feet she ran her hand through her blonde, crew cut hair. “You had a baby and had it adopted?” she shrieked, and my eyes darted toward the door leading to the sitting room where James, Franco, and our dad sat.

  “Shh, keep it down.”

  “What do you mean keep it down? James doesn’t know?” she hissed close to my face, her eyes bugging like they were going to fall out of her head. Marnie had never been one to shock easily, but my news had blown her away.

  “Yes, James knows,” I snipped, my eyes darting in the direction of the sitting room again, “but Dad has no idea.” My heart felt tight in my chest from all the deceit, and I had thought it might explode from all the stress, anxiety, and heartache my mother and I may have caused my dad and my sister.

  “Dad? Doesn’t know?” she repeated as questions again. “How can he not know?” she shrilled and I shushed her again.