The Unlucky Ones, page 21
The meaning of his words cascaded over me. How many times had I said to myself he was a mistake? But not once did I ever feel it. He stayed with me, always haunting me; I didn’t want to let him go.
I didn’t think, I rose on my tiptoes. My mouth touched his, softly, discovering the taste and feel of him, tugging at his bottom lip.
A low growl ebbed up his chest, his hand sinking onto the back of my head, tangling in my hair as he pulled me in. His tongue parted my lips, desire escalating our need in a spike of adrenaline, our hands moving over each other. My fingers gripped his dress shirt and tugged it out of his pants.
“Wait.” He gripped my arms, pinning them to my sides. “Not here.”
My gaze wandered around. Shame quickly smothered my desperation.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I did it again.” I palmed my face. We were standing at his daughter’s grave. What kind of person was I? With him I seemed to have no civility; my yearning for him completely took over.
“Don’t ever apologize. Believe me, knowing you’re bare under that short skirt…I want nothing more than to strip the rest of you naked and lick every inch of you right now.” My throat hitched, my blood sizzling in response to his words. “But this is not the right place or time. You probably need to get back.”
I nodded, wanting nothing more than to stay with him and not return to smile and respond for the next hour with a variation of, “Thank you for coming. It was a lovely service. Yes, my mother will be greatly missed.” I wanted to roll into a ball in the corner. Or get excessively drunk. The woman my mom had been before she got sick would have been all for that option. She did enjoy her wine.
“Yeah, I better get back to being the perfect host.”
He smiled briefly, placing a hand on my lower back, leading me to his Bronco.
“Thank you for earlier, for bringing me here, for telling me your story.” I stopped at the passenger door, staring up into blue eyes.
“What part of earlier are you thanking me for?” He smirked.
“All of it. But the bathroom? That was… in-cred-ible.” I shook my head, looking down at the ground, heat returning to my cheeks. “We do have a thing for public places.”
He scoffed, rubbing his mouth with his hand, as though reliving the scene himself.
“But really, thank you for being there for me.” I exhaled. “And for telling me about Kessley. I know it must have been horrible, and I can’t imagine what you went through and still do.”
He reached up and tucked a slip of my hair behind my ear. “I think you might understand.”
“No, nothing like you. Being locked in prison while your daughter is dying… I can’t fathom it. But you know she wouldn’t want you to punish and hate yourself; she sounded too innocent and sweet for something like that. She’d want you happy.”
“And how do you know?”
“Because I watched a little girl today, not much younger than Kessley, toss her I-can’t-breathe-or-function-without stuffed animal into a grave because she didn’t want her grandmother to be alone or scared, who she’s really only known to be vacant or unstable.” I touched his face. “And I doubt your daughter would’ve been any less pure of heart. She loved and believed in you. You may hate yourself, but I bet she never did. Someday she’d want you to forgive yourself.”
“I can’t.” He bowed his head, his hand covering mine.
“I didn’t say it would be easy. I’m working on a similar problem. Maybe we can try to step off the road of self-punishment together.”
He stepped in, crushing his mouth to mine passionately, ending it almost as fast as it began.
“Get in the car, Freckles, or there is a good possibility you won’t be making it back at all.”
“I’m okay with that.” But the moment I said it, I knew I better get back to the memorial. Being gone for a short time was one thing, disappearing the rest of the evening would not be okay. Skylar, Uncle Gavin, Amelia, and Mia needed me. With a heavy sigh I climbed into his Bronco, turning back into the steadfast sister and host.
When Lincoln returned me to the venue, the parking lot was almost empty and the cleaning crew was at work. Neither one of us realized how long we had been gone.
Remorse blistered up my throat, bile swishing around in my stomach. I felt awful, selfish, and ashamed as we drove home.
When I walked up to the apartment, I could still feel the sensation of Lincoln’s mouth on mine from when he kissed me goodbye. An apology resembling groveling sat on my tongue as I stepped into our place, thinking I heard the voices of my family. Nothing.
“Hello?” I shut the door, spotting the jacket and bag I left at the place hanging on the coatrack, confirming they had returned. “Is anyone home?”
Silence.
Traveling to the living room, my eyes scurried around the empty room. Rotating toward my bedroom, I let out a yelp, spotting a motionless figure standing at the window.
“Shit, Amelia.” I clamped down on my breastbone. “You scared me.”
“Distracted?” She glanced over her shoulder. Her position had a perfect view of the front, exactly where Lincoln dropped me off. A sprout of nervousness wrapped around my vertebrae.
“When did you get home? I went back, and no one was there.” I swallowed over the dry spot in my throat. “I’m so sorry. I sent a text to Skylar. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
“I wonder why that is.” Her tone was punchy, disdainful. “Why you left Mom’s memorial early…dumped everything on me. How could you be so selfish and cruel at your own mother’s funeral?” Resentment layered every syllable.
My lids fluttered in annoyance, my earlier guilt was gobbled up by her hypocrisy. The two words, selfish and cruel, hit every nerve like a pinball machine. Lincoln and Skylar were both in my head, forcing me to see how much I catered to Amelia. I was sick of her always playing the victim card.
Tonight I had no energy for an Amelia tantrum.
“Where is everyone?” I shifted topics, ignoring her assessment of my character.
“They took Mia out for pizza and ice cream.”
“And you didn’t go?” I kicked off my heels, moaning with relief.
“No.” She whirled around, her arms folded. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“What is your problem, Mel?” I yearned to take a shower and crawl into bed. “I am sorry I left, and I wasn’t there for the last bit. I feel awful, but for some reason I don’t think that’s what you are really mad about. Or are you annoyed because for once you had to take care of something?”
“Fuck you!” A storm heaved off her shoulders, her face pinching with rage. “I can’t believe you! Always playing the sweet sister, when all along you were a backstabbing bitch.”
“Whoa.” Bewilderment stepped back, my hands going up. “What are you talking about?”
“You!” she spat out. “And Lincoln!”
Ah.
“I saw you just now. And I was the one knocking on the door…and I fuckin’ heard you screwing him. In. The. Bathroom! Found the panties you left on the floor,” she screeched, charging for me. “How could you? You knew I really liked him. Was that the reason you went after him? To hurt me? To finally be the one picked over me?”
“What?” A sardonic laugh bolted up my throat. “Are you kidding me right now? Seriously?”
“Nailing you in the bathroom because you spread your legs makes you easy, not wanted.” This was the same thing she wanted to do with him, but I was the whore?
“Stop. Right. Now. Amelia,” I seethed, getting right into her face.
“Why him? Of all guys. You knew how I felt about him. He was mine.”
“He’s not yours!” I exclaimed. “He never was. You are only set on him because he’s the first guy who hasn’t fallen at your feet. It became a challenge, but you don’t actually like him.”
“Yes, I do. I think I’m in love with him.”
I laughed again, knowing my sister better than she knew herself. “Okay, what do you know about him? If you’re so deeply in love, tell me something about him. His dreams? Ambitions? Start easy, where did he go to college?”
“It never came up.”
“FYI, he didn’t. Okay, does he have siblings?”
“I-I don’t know. We didn’t talk about that stuff.”
“And you’re in love with him?”
Her forehead wrinkled, fury riding her shoulders.
“You only want him because you can’t have him.” I pushed the balls of my feet into the floor. “There is something happening between him and me…there has been for a while. Yes, I should have told you a long time ago, but I didn’t want to hurt you. I won’t be staying quiet anymore.”
“How long? Oh my god, did everyone at the bar know? You let me embarrass myself, throw myself at him, while everyone was probably laughing behind my back?”
“Yeah, ’cause once again it’s about you, and therefore somehow my fault,” I growled, getting back into her space, my anger cold and direct. “Shut your mouth before you say something even more stupid, which will really piss me off. Not a good time to push me. I mean, for crap sake, get over yourself. We just buried Mom today.”
Amelia let out a crazed cry, her arms pinwheeling around. “You think I don’t know that? I was there. The whole time!”
“Oh my god.” I shook my head. “For one moment, an hour, I did something I wanted to do, which is you all the time, and I’m the bad guy?” Whatever Lincoln evoked in me, a new version of me rose from beneath, shoving the people pleaser back. “You know what, Amelia? I am not always going to be here, taking care of you. For once in your life, you will have to start doing things on your own. Be a frickin’ adult. You were old enough to get knocked up, so stop being the baby here. Just because you don’t want to deal with something, like planning Mom’s entire funeral, doesn’t mean you get out of it. That’s not how it works. I’ve let you slide for too long. Instead of fighting you, Mom and Dad let you get away with anything, always coming to me to pick up your part of the chores or responsibilities. But no more. I’m done with this…”
My arms flopped to my side, feeling the anger drain away to sadness. “I don’t want this life. I want to travel, go to college, figure myself out. I love you… You and Mia are my heart, but it isn’t my life’s purpose to make yours easier. I want a sister, not to be the parent.”
Her chest heaved, her eyes wide as she stared at me. I could see inklings of fear sprouting inside her at the thought of me no longer being there.
“Tell everyone I’ll see them in the morning. I’m heading to bed.” I veered for my bedroom.
“Devy?” Amelia’s voice splintered over the floor.
I looked over my shoulder, but she said nothing, gaping at me with dejection.
“Good night, Mel,” I said softly before shutting the door.
Amelia was my sister. I loved her more than anything, but our relationship needed to change. I hadn’t realized how much I was suffocating under all this weight. It wasn’t entirely her fault. I’d let her get away with it, but something had shifted in me, and I knew I would never be the same girl.
It was time for Devon Thorpe to get a life. Her own.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It had only been two days since the funeral, but tension at home had grown thick as mud, sticking heavily to the air. Amelia and I hadn’t really talked since our fight. We were cordial, but both of us were far too stubborn to bend first. And when Skylar left the day after the funeral, taking away our buffer, the strain only increased. It drove me out of the house on long runs where I could get lost in my thoughts.
Today, even after a run, I was restless, searching for something. I wanted to be around people, to feel life bustling by. I felt I had been in a cave for so long, solely focused on Mom and keeping my family afloat.
I was a mess. One moment, I felt shame for being relieved Mom was gone, that she was no longer suffering, and she was free. Then I’d flip to missing her so much and also feeling lost and scared, because I didn’t know what to do without having the responsibility. Without her. And I knew myself. If I wasn’t careful, I would turn my unease about my future toward Mia and Amelia, taking care of them so I wouldn’t float away, never really asking myself what I wanted.
I was at a crossroads: either I allowed myself to fall into a safe life where I was needed, or I could let myself fly. Discover my own dreams. Waiting tables was fine for now, but it was not what I wanted to do with my life. All I seemed good at was taking care of people, though the idea of becoming a nurse or doctor made me want to cry. Taking care of my mom was one thing; I didn’t want to do it professionally. My heart couldn’t handle it. I’d toyed with the thought of opening my own café but didn’t know how passionately I felt about it.
I guess that was what college was for. To figure it out. An education was necessary, especially if I decided to go into having my own business. But then the thoughts would enter my mind of what if I tried, took out hefty loans, and it wasn’t successful? I hated the idea of not only failing, but of the loan money handcuffing me to years of endless serving jobs, the one thing I was qualified to do.
These contemplations looped around my brain until I thought I would snap. Requiring a reprieve, I went for a long walk to clear my head, my feet moving forward without much consideration, enjoying the late afternoon. As the evening descended, darkening the streets, I found myself stepping into the saloon, seeking a friendly face, my subconscious leading me here the whole time.
A wide grin from the other side of the bar warmed my heart, bringing me to the stools.
“Look who’s back. We’ve missed your face.” Rick and Kyle held up their drinks, welcoming me back. I waved, smiling at the bartender.
“Hey, chica!” Nat leaned over, hugging me. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. Good. Bad. Ugly.”
“Don’t I know it.” She nodded. “I remember when I lost my nana. She had been sick so long, I felt both relieved and devastated, bouncing back and forth between them like a volleyball over a net.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I slipped into the chair, my gaze sliding quickly to the back.
“I don’t think he’s here anymore.” I found a knowing smile on Nat’s mouth. “He said he had to slip out for a bit.” Noticing my pinched expression, she returned an affirmation. “Yep. James strikes again.”
I now knew what happened to Lincoln, how he took responsibility for James, and I realized we weren’t much different. It was easy to resent James and want to tell Lincoln to be strong and say no to him. But I would be a hypocrite, although Amelia wasn’t dragging me into illegal activity, something that could put Lincoln away for good.
“You want a drink?” Nat reached for a glass. “Margarita?”
“Why not?” I shrugged. “I walked here. Also, I need to plug in my cell…ran out of battery earlier.” I started to dig into my bag for the phone.
Nat grabbed the tequila, starting to mix the drink. “You know who else was here earlier?”
“Who?”
“Your uncle.”
“My uncle?” My head snapped up. “Uncle Gavin?”
“Yeah.” Her eyebrows crinkled. “He came in asking about Lincoln.”
Ice. Fire. Both plunged down my airway, crashing into my gut.
“What?”
“He asked about you two and if I knew anything about him.” She scooped ice into my cup, pouring the liquid over. “I know he’s your uncle and probably seeing if he’s a good enough guy for his niece, but my instinct around cops is to say as little as possible.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The only things I really know. His name and he’s been my boss for about seven or eight months. He was also curious who owned it before Lincoln and if I had seen him recently. What he looked like.”
I could barely breathe or swallow. My uncle was smart, his intuition even sharper than my father’s. He had raided so many drug houses, capturing criminals off a hunch and reasoning.
I had hoped Lincoln had skated past him, his attention on other things at the memorial. But no. By his expression I should have known he would compartmentalize, file it away until he had a moment.
Lucy had left town the same time as Skylar, needing to get back to work, but Uncle Gavin stayed. Told us he wanted to help with tying up loose ends for Mom. He had moved from the hotel to our sofa that morning.
“You didn’t tell him, right?”
“He’s your uncle and would know I was lying…so I said his name was James and a basic description of him. A million guys match the description I gave him.”
Yeah, but only one had to fit if he knew who he was looking for. If my uncle put together who Lincoln’s “partner” was… Shoving my chair back, I hopped off the seat.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to talk to Lincoln.” Heading to the office, I needed to confirm he wasn’t here before I started to truly panic. Stepping in the empty room, my shoulders twisted with tension. Shit.
Out the window behind his desk, through the partially closed blinds, I spotted Lincoln’s Bronco. Headlights on, his shadowy outline reversing the car from the parking spot.
My legs bolted, leaping in long strides for the back door. With a burst, the back door cracked against the wall as I shoved through it.
“Lincoln!” I yelled, darting for the Bronco exiting the lot. “Stop!”
Oblivious to me, the car turned out, gunning down the street.
“Shit,” I cried, racing back for the restaurant. Not only did I need to talk to Lincoln, I had to stop him. If my uncle was on to him, he needed to get as far from his brother and trouble as he could.
“Nat!” I bellowed, spurting down the hall. “I need to borrow your car.”
“Why?”
The entire bar stared at me, every second ticking by, slipping him from my fingers.
“Please?” I ignored her question, bouncing on my toes in desperation.
Whatever she saw in my face, she went straight to her purse and tossed her keys on the bar.
