Losing Seven (Falling for Seven Book 2)

by T. A Richards Neville

  I felt empty. Hollow where I should be full. Regret where there was once contentment. There was a chance I could’ve been a good mom. Even the thought of leaving my baby for as long as my mom left me, I knew I’d have had so much more love to give than her.

  The fantasy came crashing down around me because I wasn’t better. I was worse.

  “Hey, Lady!”

  I heard the shouting, I just wasn’t paying attention to it.

  “Lady! Is that your dog that’s halfway down the beach?” The man in black shorts and sliders stooped down in front of me, shielding a frown with a hand over his eyes.

  I looked in the direction he was pointing, springing to my feet as soon as I saw the blur of black fur sprinting across the sand. I ran after him, an impossible task as my feet sunk into the hot, dry sand. I was breathless, pulling my feet from quicksand crevices, Dog disappearing farther into the distance.

  “Dog!” fire burned in my thighs and sweat coated the back of my neck, sticking to my hair like wet glue. “Dog!” I couldn’t see him. I was running after his shadow.

  I scanned the beach.

  Nothing.

  Panic took root and although he was out of sight, and no one was interested in helping, I didn’t want to go too far in the wrong direction in case there was a chance Dog came back looking for me. I backtracked to the scene of the crime, hurrying when I realized I’d left my phone behind. Eventually, after never taking my eyes from the ground, I found my phone lying face-down in the sand where I’d left it.

  I felt utterly helpless. If I called Julian, he was bound to get angry. I couldn’t tell him that I’d now lost his rescue puppy, among other unspeakable things.

  Switching to battery saver, I logged into Julian’s Uber account and to the last ride we’d taken. Twenty-five minutes passed before my app alerted me my car was here. I trudged across the sand, my eyes searching the beach one last time, and then I got into the backseat of the waiting car.

  Joseph turned in his seat. “What happened?”

  I broke down, giving a scattered retelling of how I’d lost Dog and now had no idea where to find him. If I was going to find him.

  “Señorita, calm down. We will find your dog, and I will help you. I know every street, every alley. I’ll drive, if you can call the shelters and ask if he’s been taken in?”

  “I can do that. Thank you, Joseph. I would never have bothered you like this when you’re working, but I had no one else to call.”

  A slot opened in the string of traffic and Joseph pulled away from the curb, setting off in the direction I’d last seen Dog. He drove slow enough that we’d be able to spot Dog, but fast enough that we wouldn’t lose much more time that what I already had.

  “He could be anywhere by now,” I muttered as I dialed the first animal shelter from my localized internet search. The lady who answered told me no dogs of that description had been brought in, and she took my number in case any were.

  Joseph glanced over his shoulder, warmth in his ash-brown eyes. “Mr. Lawson doesn’t know his dog is missing?” There was misunderstanding in his expression, and if I’d met this man more than once, I’d open my entire heart and tell him everything. Lucky for him, this was only our second meeting.

  My eyes lifted, and I made every effort to smile. “I’m going to find him,” I said. “Then I’ll tell Julian.”

  Joseph looked doubtful. “Miami’s a big place. I hope you’re right.”

  We drove around for two hours, and in that time, I’d called every pet shelter that was open. None had Dog. Insisting another hour wasn’t going to cause any damage, Joseph let me out at Hallandale Beach while he scoured more neighborhoods. I walked what felt like the entirety of the beach, calling out to Dog and getting nothing back. When Joseph dropped me off at Julian’s condo, I’d have preferred anything else over walking in there and telling Julian I allowed his dog to run away.

  Thunder rumbled close by as I stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk, and Joseph exited after me. “Mr. Lawson is a good man. He’ll understand this isn’t your fault. Don’t be afraid to tell him, ¿sí?”

  Oh, Joseph. You have no idea.

  I thanked Joseph for his help. Tried to pay him for his wasted gas, which he refused. We hadn’t found Dog, but we’d done everything we could in trying. He kept the car idling until I was inside the complex. The wind had picked up, and the palm trees swayed in the breeze on the other side of the condo’s windows as I stood and waited for Julian. At almost nine p.m., the door opened.

  I stood up from the sectional, but it wasn’t Julian who held Dog by his leather collar. It was the blonde woman who worked for the Dolphins and returned missing dogs to their rightful owners after their girlfriends had let them run loose.

  I looked at Dog like he was a fragment of my imagination. Too scared to touch him. Overcome with the same sickly distress I’d felt when he’d ran away from me. “Where did you find him?” I asked.

  The blonde—Angela, that was her name—unfastened his collar and Dog went straight for his water bowl. His food bowl was empty, but this woman knew her way around Julian’s kitchen well enough to refill it.

  She poured food from the heavy-duty sack into the bowl. “One of the shelters you called rang my friend. They had no room for Dog and wanted to see if he did. So, my friend called me and here I am. Julian’s on his way home from the bar now.”

  “The bar?”

  “Yeah, he’s out with some of the team. He didn’t tell you?” Angela resealed the bag and stowed it back in the walk-in pantry. “He seemed surprised to hear Dog had been taken into the shelter off the streets.”

  “I hadn’t told him.” It’d only just occurred to me I was standing stock still. Like I was in someone else’s home, intruding. “I didn’t know how to. I was sure I’d find him…”

  Angela smiled, two hands sloping over her hips. “Well then, I’ve taken care of that for you.”

  I didn’t like this woman. My gut was telling me not to trust her, however unreasonable I was being. “Your name’s Angela, right?” I asked before using it.

  Her smile slipped, and her posture perked up. “Julian’s mentioned me?”

  “I was there when you called him the other night.” Last night, was it? It couldn’t be. Too much had happened. It felt like a year ago.

  “Then you tell him I meant what I said. He owes me.” I watched as Angela crouched down to say bye to Dog. He licked his food, and then her face, his loyalties divided equally. She opened the door to the condo, standing on the threshold. We looked at each other and then Angela stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed.

  I stood in the kitchen, heating a bowl of soup in the microwave. The door opened and closed, and my spine stiffened, Dog’s ears pricking from excitement of the arrival.

  “Hey, boy.” Julian’s voice carried to the kitchen. “You’ve been giving Angel the run-around, huh?”

  I wanted to ask where he’d been. Why he would go out to a bar when there’s so much going wrong between us. How he could abandon me for so long and not try to contact me. I settled for watching the numbers ticking down on the microwave’s digital clock, letting the questions swirl in my head and stay there. I’d given up my right to criticize or accuse.

  Paper landed on the granite counter beside me. I looked down, the animated barcode the only real information that registered. “What’s this?” I asked, picking up the paper, knowing damn well what I was holding.

  “I booked you a flight. It leaves for LA in the morning.”

  I didn’t even try and read what was in front of me. I was shaking with anger. “You booked me a flight?” I turned and faced Julian, throwing his emailed ticket at him with my name on. The paper fluttered to the floor. “Is that what you were doing tonight? Out getting wasted while you talked yourself into sending me home, all while I ran around most of Miami looking for your fucking dog? Searching every street corner so I wouldn’t have to come back here and tell you I couldn’t find him. So you wouldn�
�t hate me any more than you already do!”

  Julian wasn’t wasted. He was stone cold sober, and that only made what he was doing worse. He wanted me out of here. Out of his home, out of his state, his life. I was supposed to be here for the week, and I now was being dismissed early.

  “I won’t sleep on the couch while you’re in my bed.”

  “I’ll sleep on the couch—”

  Julian’s nostrils flared. “No one’s sleeping on the couch! I didn’t bring you here to sleep in a different room to me, but right now, Angel, I can’t be anywhere fucking near you. When Angela called me earlier, I was so fucking angry. I wanted you on the damn flight back to Los Angeles tonight.”

  My hands loosened at my sides and I let the argument drain from me. I wouldn’t beg, and Julian didn’t want me to. He’d said what he wanted. For me to leave.

  I’d been here before.

  So many times.

  I picked up the paper from the floor and left my heated soup in the microwave, my hunger shriveling up to die. I packed my things and double-checked I had my passport and driver’s license. In the living room, I looked around me at the sleek, modern condo. Julian hadn’t left the kitchen, hunched over the sink, hands gripping the chrome basin.

  “You’ve got all this space, but your place isn’t be big enough for two. I’m starting to think you prefer it here alone, and there won’t ever be room for more than just you.” Julian stood rigid, the muscles in his arms and shoulders tense. “Do you remember when you told me you’d love me forever? If I let you? If I’d have you? You’ve hurt me before, Julian.”

  “Nobody died then,” he said with his back to me.

  “You killed my trust. Doesn’t that count?”

  “Not the same, Angel. Not the fucking same.”

  “No, it’s not.” I pulled up the handle on my case. “When you love someone, that love doesn’t fall at the first hurdle. Loving someone is making sacrifices you don’t always want to make. And loving someone means listening. You, Julian, do not know the meaning of the word.”

  I wheeled my suitcase across the floor. I’d suffocate if I stayed here any longer.

  “Where are you going?” Julian asked as I opened the door. He strode across the living room to stand in front of me, the tension in his shoulders tightening, his pensive gaze split between me and my suitcase. “Your flight isn’t until tomorrow.”

  “I can’t stay here another night knowing you don’t want me. I’ll check into a hotel.”

  “Which hotel?”

  “I don’t know. One near to the airport.”

  “Just stay here.”

  “Julian, I’m not leaving because I’m chasing a dramatic show of you trying to get me to stay. I’m not staying here, and I won’t change my mind.”

  The rough skin on Julian’s palm skimmed my cheek, the fingers on his other hand prying the plastic suitcase handle from my grasp. He pulled me into him, his fervent kiss feeling as much like a good-bye as it did an ‘I love you’. A final kiss to test me out and see if I still fit. Maybe this was good-bye. Julian’s way of letting me go and wiping his hands of me and my mistake in a kiss so brutal it draws blood to your lips and a fatal imbalance to your heartbeat.

  Julian drove me to the Miami Hilton and paid my room bill, leaving his credit card details for any extras I might rack up—as if incidentals were important. I collected my room key and walked to the elevators, never looking back once. Not to say good-bye, to apologize again, or even to see Julian’s face. I’d looked into his eyes enough to see that no, I didn’t quite fit right anymore. I was no longer perfect, I had blemishes.

  .

  D og barked at my feet, paws skidding over the floor in his haste for me to get the door open, so he could pounce on whoever wanted in.

  “I’m getting it,” I reassured him, pulling open the door.

  A blonde girl wearing a leather biker jacket—with a goddamn suitcase—smiled at me. “Hi!”

  My gaze traveled to the extra-large case as Dog sniffed the boots on her feet. “I think you’ve got the wrong apartment.”

  “Are you Julian?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  “Me. I’m Rebecca. Susan Hale’s oldest daughter.” Her teeth tugged at her lower lip, bracing for my rejection.

  “Rebecca?” I was cautious using her name, because the odds of it really being her shouldn’t have existed. She couldn’t be here. I was flying to LA tomorrow for the Rams game.

  “Can I come in?” She shrugged out of her jacket, blowing her next breath up into her hairline. Fine strands fluttered from a low-hanging bun. “I’m so sweaty. I got here and I didn’t know if this was your building or if I had the right address. Then if you’d even speak to me.”

  I went heavy on the frown, slow on the processing system of what was happening here. “Did you come all the way from New Jersey?”

  “Uh huh, all the way.” Rebecca held out her hands, palms facing the floor. “I’m shaking, see? I’m so nervous.” She was shaking. Her chest rose so graphically, I could count the number of breaths and how often. “I could blow chunks, that’s how nervous I am. It’s hot out here, too.”

  I took her suitcase, wheeling it inside before she passed out in the hallway. In my head, I’d already texted my mom and started emancipation. And my fucking dad, he was due a phone call. He’d earned it. What an absolute prick.

  A scrap of black lace parading as clothes concealed roughly one quarter of Rebecca’s torso, and shiny, stretchy pants laced up the sides of her legs to her hips. Not a thong or panty line to be seen. The safest place for my eyes was her face.

  She followed me deeper into the living room and I showed her to the sectional, letting her know it was okay to sit. But that’s all she was doing. “So, you’re what… nineteen…”

  “As of yesterday.” Her gaze roamed the living room, ceiling to floor, her fingers constructing swirls over the white leather couch. “You aren’t that much older.” One eye narrowed. “Twenty-three?”

  “Twenty-two next month. My dad tell you much else about me? About Taj?” Chafed by my anger, I allowed it to poke free and get the better of me. “How is the old bastard, anyway? I presume he’s the one who sent you here. You can’t stay, if that’s what your plans were. I’ve got a game in two days and I won’t be home.”

  “Have you ever wondered about me?” There was a wobble in her chin. A roundness in her brown eyes that wouldn’t work on me. “Even once?”

  “Listen…” I sat on the last step of the staircase. Dog circled the living room, unsure what to do with himself while there was another person in the house paying him no attention. “My dad left my mom for your mom, and that’s all I’m saying about it. Now, for real, where are you going with that suitcase?” I nodded to the hard-shell yellow case that had no place here.

  I had Angel clogging my brain; I wasn’t dealing with this girl in my home. I wasn’t talking about my dad with her, or her family or any of it. I was sorry she’d have to leave, but she was still leaving. I’d give her a bottle of mineral water for the road. A fruit and nut bar if she left quietly.

  “Julian did not leave your mom for my mom.”

  She wasn’t leaving quietly. She was hanging on to be as loud as humanly possible. And her use of my name to talk about him was giving me indigestion. “What the hell do you know?”

  A flicker of sanctimony ran across her expression. “He didn’t love your mom and he left, rather than stay and pretend.”

  “Why’d he go to New Jersey? It’s a bit random, don’t you think?”

  “Not that random. He was living in Boston.”

  I laughed, scrubbing a hand up over the back of my head. “Why now, Rebecca? You’ve known about me all this time. And who told you where I was living? I haven’t spoken to my dad since last year, and it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.”

  “I know what road you’re heading down, and you can just turn right back. I’m not here because you’re a big name in the NFL. I don’t care abou
t that. It took me a long time to find the courage to speak to you. I’m no idiot, and I was under no illusions you’d welcome me with open arms.”

  I cut her a look. “Tell me how you found me.”

  “I called your mom,” Rebecca softly uttered. “She’s lovely, by the way. And I am sorry if my mom hurt your family, but that wasn’t her intention.”

  This chick.

  “Don’t show up at my door, come into my house, and lie to me. At least have the decency to be honest, because I haven’t got time for this. Any of it.” I stood and grabbed her case.

  Rebecca lurched from the couch, reaching for the suitcase at the same time. “I’m not lying. If they did anything they shouldn’t have, they never told me. I swear to you. I know what I see and what they tell me. The only agenda I came here with is to get to know the person I’ve spent so much of my life wondering about. That’s all, I promise.”

  The outside of her closed fist pressed into mine, her grip on the suitcase handle no less determined. But she wasn’t staying. I’d wheel her out on this thing if I had to.

  “Even if you are telling the truth, I don’t give a shit. He’s your dad now, your family—not mine.”

  “Not your family!” Rebecca all but screeched. She groped around on the sectional behind her, body twisting in a weird angle because she refused to let go of the suitcase. She patted down her leather jacket and tugged free her cell phone from the chest pocket. Scrolling through whatever in her apps, she turned the phone around, shoving it at me. “This is your family actually, lord fucking douche.” Hands full, Rebecca blew the blonde errant strand from her eyes, only for it to fall back into place.

  My eyes lowered to the phone, and the young girl’s face filling the screen. I should have looked away and hosed Rebecca out of here, but I didn’t.

  “Who’s she?” I had half an idea. If it wasn’t for the doe hazel eyes, with more olive shade than blue, this girl would be Taj’s reflection. Her skin was darker than most white kids’, and her hair was a brown tangle just past her shoulders. No doubt, she was undeniably Julian Sr’s doing.