After nursing a glass of wine for two hours at the bar, I decide it’s time to bid a good night to my co-workers and head home. I’m exhausted. And while it might be a Friday night and I’m off on the weekend, I’m looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow. I park my car in the well-lit lot of my apartment building, get out, pause for the ritual look at the car seat secured in the back seat, and click the key pad before making my way to the elevator.
I slump back against the wall and let my heavy bag slip down from my shoulder into my hand as the huge steel doors close in front of me. I take the ride alone up to the third floor. Normally, I use the stairs, but my feet are screaming in these heels. There’s a ding, and the doors break apart. I exit and turn to the left, almost home.
I stop. The familiar silhouette leaning against my door shifts forward. His dark eyes beam straight into me, filling me all over again with every emotion I vacuum sealed the second I got off the plane a few weeks back. I blink away a pending tear. The feelings were never gone, just shut down.
Why is he here?
Eyes sunken in, hair messed like his hands has been through it a hundred times today, he looks like I feel; a sleep-deprived wreck.
I hesitate to move, my feet requiring a quick mental chat to get going. I squeeze the keys in my hand and march forward. His eyes follow me as I steer past him toward the refuge of my door. I stick the key in the hole … almost home.
“Jaylyn.” My hand stills, and my heart plummets to my stomach. Why do I love hearing him say my name? “Jaylyn?” He says it again as the gentle pressure of his hand presents upon my shoulder. “Please, can we talk?”
I wince, recognizing the desperation in his voice. The same voice has been whispering in head, begging me to call him. The mirror and I have had some intense conversations over the past few weeks, and the experienced, broken-hearted woman in the mirror always wins.
“I have nothing to say to you.” I turn the key, and that damn tear wells back up in my eye. I walk into my apartment, quickly turning around to close the door, and make the mistake of looking at him.
“Please, let me in,” he whispers, every despondent emotion exposed in the lines around his doleful eyes. To my bones, I feel his hurt. Night after night, it’s kept me awake.
I prayed for him to come. I selfishly begged for this, knowing that’d I’d have to deny him if he did. One more time, that’s what I told myself. Let me feast my eyes upon his gorgeous face, listen to his soothing voice, and look into his unwavering eyes just one more time. The more I begged for it, the more it felt all too familiar. I wanted just one more time with Trevor as well. Prayed, pleaded, and even tried to barter my soul for the chance, but it never happened.
“No.” I shake my head. I can’t do it. I can’t give in. He’ll hurt me. “I don’t care about you, Steele, just like you guaranteed I never would, remember?” I start to push the door close.
“Yes, I remember.” His palm hits the barrier threatening to come between us. “But I never guaranteed that I wouldn’t fall for you.”
“Don’t say that!”
“Please, Jay. I miss you. I can’t stop thinking about you every minute of the day. I just want to talk to you. Give me just a few minutes, please.”
“Don’t do this! Leave!” I point a shaky finger toward the hall. “I don’t want you!”
“Yes, you do.” He pushes the door back open and walks into my apartment. After a thorough scan of my living room, every inch of it, his determined eyes reach mine. “I want to know about her, Jay.”
“Who?” I stagger back, looking around the room, completely confused.
“The woman who was in love with TJ Banks. I want to know what happened to her, and I’m not leaving until I know everything.” He kicks the door closed behind him. “The entire story.”
Oh, my God. He’s finally heard. I knew this day would come. It was bound to happen. We run in the same circle. Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long. Still, it doesn’t mean I’m ready for it. Although it might’ve been easier if he’d known from the start. He probably would’ve left me alone then. “What do you know?”
“Not enough.” He glances around my apartment, again.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I know what he’s looking for … who he’s looking for, and the thought that he thinks she’s here splits my heart wide open. My entire body shudders, and my strength begins to collapse.
“Well, that’s a problem.” He encroaches my personal space, pushing up his sleeves. “See, you need to talk about it because I need you, and I can’t have you, not entirely, not until I know the truth. So, please, Jay. Help me out here, help me so I can understand.”
I rub my hands over my face and then toss them out in the air. “I can’t!” I cross my arms over my chest. “I just can’t do it.”
He inhales deeply through his nose, then exhales through his mouth. “Try.”
I rub my arms a couple of times. “No.” He doesn’t know what he’s asking of me. I look at the door, the floor, the window, seeking a way out of this.
“Jay?”
My eyes dart to his. “I can’t! Don’t you understand! I can’t talk about it! It hurts too much.”
“I know, baby.” He grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eyes, executing a strong, unbreakable connection. “Share that pain with me, give it to me. If you give me the chance, I’ll take it all for you. Please, I’ll do anything to help you.”
“Then leave, just leave!” My lips quiver with each word.
“Now, that’s the one thing I can’t do. Not until you tell me everything. Not until I know why we can’t be together.”
“You know why we can’t be together!”
“I need to hear it from you, and I’m not giving up that easily, Jay. I’m not leaving until we talk this out.”
“Fine!” I push him in the chest. “Fine!” I scream like a madwoman at the top of my dry lungs. “You want to know, then I’ll tell you!”
Sleep-deprivation already setting in, I’m exhausted. I don’t have it in me to fight him any longer. If he wants the truth, then I’ll give it to him.
I walk over to the window, trying to catch my breath and my sanity. Unable to face him, I offer him my back. Gazing out the window, I focus on the stoplight down below. I watch it change to red and wait, convincing myself that when it turns green, I’ll tell him everything.
He’s behind me. I can hear him breathing. But he doesn’t rush me. He remains forever patient.
The light flashes yellow, and I close my eyes, trying to find a comfortable corner in the darkness …
“It was an exceptionally hot day, and I’d just returned from getting an ultrasound of the baby and decided to go visit Trevor on the set and tell him the good news.” I pause to clear my throat. “We were having a girl. I wanted a girl, but of course, he was rooting for a boy.” I smile and see my reflection in the mirror. Guilt rushes through me for remembering that day with any kind of happiness. “But I knew he’d still lo-love her. I entered the studio and spotted him right away. Ha-hand in the air, waving the picture, I ran over to him. He looked at me, and there was this flash of fear in his eyes, a fear like nothing I’d ever seen before, and it stopped me in my tracks. He stood ten or fifteen feet in front of me. It was weird, he turned his back to me and then, I heard a click. His body shrank inward. I tried to go to him, but when he turned around, and I saw that the-there was a … a …” I pat my chest, trying to release the words caught in my throat. “There was an arrow right here.” I hit my chest harder. “In his big, beautiful he-heart,” I stutter, choking back tears and taking several shaky breaths. “Unable to move, talk, or breathe, I just stood th-there.” I press a hand over my mouth to stifle another cry. “His hands were waving, mouth moving, but I was deaf; I couldn’t hear him. Until, loud and clear, I heard another click.” I place a palm on the window glass over the reflection of my face. Paralyzed, just as I had been on that dreadful day, I glare down at t
he stoplight below, waiting for it to turn green. When I see yellow, I whisper shallowly from my lungs, “Another arrow str-struck him in th-the back, and he fell to the floor. That’s when I saw it, the machine directly in front of me and realized more were coming. So I tumbled to the floor and curled in a ball, trying to protect my b-baby. I watched the blood upon the lips that I had kissed earlier that day.” An involuntary whimper escapes my lips. “Watched it trickle from his mouth as he gurgled my name. I couldn’t move. Every few seconds, an arrow flew over my head until someone pulled the plug on the machine. Feet shuffled around, blocking my view of Trevor. I couldn’t see him for what felt like forever. Then someone spotted me lying on the floor, unable to move, unable to speak, and th-they, they—”
“Fuck, Jay.” Steele gently squeezes my shoulder from behind. “It wasn’t your fault.”
I shrug from his touch, not deserving his comfort or sympathy. “You don’t understand; they thought I walked in, f-found him like that, and pa-passed out. They didn’t know it was my fault. No one knew that he threw himself in front of those da-damn arrows to protect me and our child. And th-the worst thing about it …” I pause for a tear-driven shiver. “The worst thing about it was that I let them think it. I was too ashamed to admit the truth. I could never face his parents, mine, myself if I had to say it aloud and acknowledge in any way that Trevor’s death was because of me!” Tears flow from my eyes, blurring the stoplight below. Body shivering all over with guilt, I press a hand to my mouth, but my cries refuse to be stifled this time. They want to be heard.
“Shh …” Steele grabs my trembling body and pulls me into his strong arms. “Shhh.” With careful hands, he strokes my long hair and calms me with his soothing voice.
He’s the first person I’ve confessed the truth to about that horrid day. I’ve carried it around inside me for the past three years. I let it control me, forbid me happiness, and deny me love. I think Gracie was touched by it as well, and that’s what hurts the most. My poor, sweet Gracie. Every time my heart mends a little, the thought of Gracie just tears it to shreds again.
I’m destined to never heal.
I cling to Steele wanting, needing, seeking salvation and forgiveness for all that I have stolen from the people I love, for all the hurt I’ve caused, and for all the memories never made because of me.
He cradles my face and tilts my head back, forcing me to look at him. He presses one small, tender kiss upon my forehead. “Jay, I’m sorry you had to go through that alone and bear that burden all by yourself. You gotta know, Trevor had no choice. He had to save you because he loved you, you and your child.” His thumb brushes across my cheek taking with it a pool of tears.
“Yes, but it was all for nothing, you see.” I lift my chin and look him straight in the eyes. “Gracie is dead.”
His thumb, not missing a beat, feathers my cheek. His eyes hold steady to mine without a flinch. “Gracie? Your child?”
“Yes, my s-sweet little g-girl,” I utter with broken words. My head pounds as more hot tears fill my eyes. I push through the thick of my remorse. “Sh-she was a few weeks early, doctor said probably from the s-stress, but her lungs weren’t strong, and she had a congenital heart disease. She lived for th-three months. I held her every day, but I never got to bring her home. Her car seat is still in my car. I can’t take it out. It sits there waiting for her.”
His large hands brush my hair back. He shakes his head. “Oh, baby.” His voice cracks, and his eyes mist over.
I stiffen, my defense clicking and locking into position. “So, now, do you understand why I can’t nor will I ever be able to love you?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Tires spin and squeal. Dirt spits up in the air as the yellow Camaro comes to a skidding stop on the track. A blond head pops out from the driver’s side window. Bright mischievous blue eyes and a wide boyish grin shine at me. “Sweet ride, huh?” He slaps the car door.
You can’t help but smile back at this kid. At twenty-three, just a few years younger than me, I guess, I should look at David Mooney, the hot, up-and-coming stuntman, as a guy and not a kid. He’s a little reckless, but I like him.
I straighten my smile. “Where’s your helmet?”
“Right here.” He shoves it through the window to show me and waves it.
When my company asked me to travel to Virginia for this job, the first thing I did was check the roster. It’s something I’ve done for the past three months before I consider any job; check the list for Steele Kane’s name. Thankfully, I haven’t had to turn down any jobs yet. And I’ve been able to remain in Chicago until now, but I like the change.
That day Steele walked out on me, he ended up doing the one thing I tried to prevent anyway. What little part of my heart that was left, he took it with him. He hasn’t tried to reach out to me, not a single call, no emails, nothing. He stole my heart and then deleted himself from my world. And when it hurts, when I feel that emptiness—which is daily and usually first thing in the morning when my eyes open—I try to convince myself that this is what I want.
I’d like to believe it’s the truth that pushed him away from me, but I know it was me. I denied him my love and pushed him out of my life.
“Well, then, put it on,” I say in a firm tone, pointing at his shaggy blond head.
“I will.” He gives me a thumbs-up. He does that a lot, along with laughing. He does a lot of that, too. Mostly, that’s how he answers me with a little cheeky laugh. He’s adorable, though, and easy to work with. Unlike Steele, this kid doesn’t like conflict. If I tell him no, he just laughs and moves on to the next thing. Granted, I’ve only been with him for a week.
“I’ll put it on for the stunt, promise. I’m just getting used to handling this baby right now.” He revs the engine. “Oh, hey …” he yells something that I can’t hear over the loud acceleration of the Camaro.
I throw my hands in the air. “What?”
“My … is here.” He points behind him at the cloud of dust.
I angle my fingers to my ears and mouth. “I can’t hear you.”
Cupping his mouth with his hands, he shouts, “Stunt coordinator!”
“Okay!” I wave, not completely sure what he’s trying to convey. I smile and give him a thumbs-up.
He responds with a dimple-revealing smile and another thumbs-up before he sends the tires spinning.
I watch the huge cloud of dust dissipate, and as the air thins, a figure appears right smack in the middle of it. A large, powerful figure. Arms swaying and shoulders swaggering, he swiftly moves toward me. My mouth goes dry. I blink, trying to figure out if the dirt is playing tricks on me but to no avail. Steele Kane is a few feet and a fence away and continues to eliminate the distance between us with each long, determined stride.
Oh, my God! I grab the fence and squeeze tight to protect myself from the quick reminder. The mere sight of him is like a shake to the shoulder, abruptly awakening the truth that I need him.
“Hi.” He stops on the other side of the fence and offers me his hand. “Steele Kane.” He nudges to the track. “David Mooney’s stunt coordinator.”
“S-stunt coordinator?” I reach out a shaky hand.
“Yes.” He engulfs my hand, giving it a light shake, and pulls me toward him. I bump into the safety of the chain-link fence. “Mr. Mooney tells me you’re giving him a hard time with a couple of stunts.”
“Steele,” I whisper, body quivering, heart racing, and stomach flipping. I can’t believe he’s here, standing in front of me, and smiling at me with that confident grin.
“But I told young David not to worry about Miss Rigsby. I informed him that I got her all figured out up here.” He taps the side of his head. “And I assured him that I am completely capable of taking her on.”
I laugh as my heart gets caught in my throat. “Is that right?” I swallow down the huge lump and try to smile through my emerging joyful tears.
“Yep.” He releases my h
and, grips the top of the fence, and in a smooth movement, he jumps it. “Yeah, know.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me right where I belong, against his strong, warm body. “I always wondered how one gets into a position such as yours. I understand now.” He brushes a few strands back from my face. “You’re doing it, babe.” His eyes search me. “You save Trevor every day.”
I thought I was done with the tears, but like a loose, leaky faucet, they begin to drip from my eyes. He knows me. He gets me. And he’s here, offering me my “one more time” moment, and I’m not going to let it slip away, not this time.
He gazes into my eyes, and I feel it flowing between us—that rare once in a lifetime sensation reserved for that someone special. At least, that’s what I thought when it happened with Trevor, but I was wrong. It can happen twice in a lifetime. Perhaps, my slates been wiped clean, and I’m getting another chance at love. And I do love Steele Kane, and nothing—no running, no ignoring, no guilt, no trying to forget about him—is going stop this from happening. He’s mine, I am his, and the only place he belongs is in my heart.
“I’m done, babe. No more stunts for me. I’m going stand back here with you and help keep Trevor safe too. I’m gonna do it for you and Gracie.”
I gaze up into his sparkling, dark eyes, voice shattering to pieces. “But S-Steele, you like being s-stunt man.”
“Yeah.” He nods, a sly smile slithering over his delicious lips. “But I like you more.” He kisses me, long and tenderly. “And I dare you, Miss Rigsby.” He peers down at me through devoted eyes. “I dare you to like me back.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and smile from the depth of my elated soul. “Challenge accepted, Mr. Kane.”
Steele Page 15
