Everlasting (Family Justice Book 6) Page 22

  He was almost hyperventilating when Uncle Cris asked Angie to help him sing one last song. All eyes turned to the cowering woman at his side. Not sure what the hell to do, he muttered, “Honey? Are you okay?”

  She took off running—straight to the little powder room behind the stairs. He ran after and nearly collided with her ass when he stumbled to a halt within an inch of her bent over body. The muffled sound of puking took him completely by surprise.

  What the fuck was going on?

  Compounding his surprise, Sophie intervened and pushed him away. She shut the bathroom door in his startled face—leaving him alone in the hallway.

  Alex was next. “What’d you do?” The growling menace in the guy’s voice didn’t help how Parker was feeling.

  In a flash, a couple of dots connected. He turned to his friend and spoke with calm urgency. “She’s keeping something from me. Do you know what it is? Don’t fuck around with me, Alex. This is important. If you know anything, you have to tell me.”

  “How do you know she’s hiding something?”

  “I just do, man. And whatever just happened? She’s been leading up to this for a while.”

  “Well, I know nothing. Angie’s always been an open book unless she was hiding what was going on with the two of you. My guess is she’s got one in the chamber, dude. I’d buckle up if I were you.”

  “Fuck.” He shook his head in vehement denial even though Alex only said what Parker had already suspected. Whatever this was, it had roots in the past, and the past was someplace where he and Angie didn’t do their best work.

  “Go make an excuse. Say she ate too much or something. Just deflect attention, okay?”

  “You got it, bro,” Alex drawled. He smacked him on the shoulder. “Be careful. I know a little something about surviving a bomb blast. Don’t throw yourself on the grenade. It won’t stop the blast. Let her get it out and then deal with it.”

  Alex went away and left him staring at the closed door. He was about to knock when it opened and Angie was framed in the doorway.

  “I don’t feel good, and I want to go home.”

  She sounded perfectly fine, but the taut set to her mouth and snippy voice dared him to argue, so he didn’t. Instead, he sought Sophie’s eyes and felt an inward grimace when she shrugged and held up her hands to let him know she had no idea what was up.

  Ordinarily, she would let him make their excuses but not so this time. Stomping past him, she headed straight to the foyer and announced she was leaving. He couldn’t hear what was said, but his mother must have put her foot in it big time because Angie went ballistic.

  “No. I am not pregnant so stop, okay? When he puts a ring on it, we’ll talk.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why did every gust of wind involve baby speculation? This shit must have driven Alex crazy.

  She gave kisses and hugs about as warmly as an ice cube and took her leave. His dad clapped his shoulder with his big paw.

  “I’ll put the kibosh on the baby talk, son. You go take care of that little girl.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Sorry for bolting.”

  He waved at everyone and ran after her. He didn’t catch up till she was standing next to the car, waiting for him to open the door. With her back to him. She’d stopped short of trampling an agreed to norm—the one where he did the gentlemanly thing—but added her own spin with the ignoring him gambit.

  Did he remind her of what she begged and pleaded for? Or should he shelve all that and just focus on the problem at hand?

  He knew the answer right away. Both. She agreed to a significant shift in their relationship, so keeping things from him was crossing a line. And since he was positive her mood involved him, it was impossible to separate the two.

  “Angelina,” he growled as he came upon her. “Turn and face me.”

  Her shoulders tensed. He expected her to tell him to eat shit. Instead, she rolled one shoulder and murmured, “I’d rather not.”

  Not open defiance but damn close.

  “If you have an opinion on the matter, you will turn around and say it to my face, young lady.”

  Ohh, boy. He could feel her conflict. When she reluctantly spun around, she kept her head down and eyes averted.

  He took a deep breath and tried to read her signals. Was she being submissive with her eyes down or deliberately blocking him? He didn’t like how the latter made him feel.

  He saw her eyes dart to the house. “I don’t care if you’re mad, but I can’t do this here. If we have to get into it—fine. But not around other people.”

  Parker wasn’t sure why he did it, but he wrapped a hand around her throat and forced her against the car. She reached for his wrist with both hands. He lowered his face to within inches of hers.

  “I will respect your wishes, baby girl, but you would do well in the future to watch your tone.”

  She stared, wide-eyed but didn’t cower. Finally, she nodded once and relaxed. He accepted the surrender and kissed her tenderly.

  Reaching behind her, he opened the car door and helped her get seated, going so far as to fasten the seat belt. He stooped down to her level and spoke softly.

  “Angelina.”

  She looked at him.

  “Do I have your trust?”

  “Yes.” Her answer was sure, fast, and earnest.

  “Don’t walk away from me again. If you need to leave, fine. But never again like this. Understand?”

  She nodded jerkily, and he shut the door. By the time he got the engine started and they were on their way, he’d just barely gotten himself under control.

  He made a swift decision when they pulled in their driveway. It was an unfair advantage, but he didn’t care. Some instinct told him to wield the upper hand.

  Once inside the house with everything secured, he found her in the dressing room removing her clothes. A pair of old sweats lay on the bench and she’d already pulled her hair into a messy topknot.

  Yeah—no.

  He went to a drawer in his side of the massive built-in and pulled it open. The playroom key sat at the ready. He snatched it from the drawer by the long black ribbon and took Angie by the arm. She squealed with surprise and did a little hop and skip.

  Without saying a word, he took her straight to the room and put her in a chair. She was starting to pant as he restrained her legs to the chair legs with soft but unyielding cuffs. He did the same thing to her wrists. Stepping back, he looked her over. She was as white as a sheet.

  Pulling up a chair, he loosened his tie and sat down in front of her. “Talk,” he grunted.

  She would bloody her mouth if she kept chewing on her lip like she was. He reached out and ran his thumb across her bottom lip.

  “Angel,” he growled. She looked at him. “Find your center and take a deep breath. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I don’t think I can look at you,” she mewled.

  It was so unlike her, but he couldn’t back down. She needed a firm hand to help her through.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Now start talking.”

  Her heavy sigh wound around his heart. “May I have a drink of water, please?”

  “Of course.” He got up and went to the small refrigerator concealed behind a glass panel. Cracking open a cold bottle of water, he poured some into a glass and went back to her. He got a fair amount of satisfaction from kneeling at her side and gently stroking her hair while carefully feeding her the drink.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Thanks.”

  He stroked her hair. “I take care of you, baby girl. That’s why communication is so important. I can’t anticipate your needs if you hide things from me.”

  He took his seat again and put both hands on the padded arms of the chair. It killed him to see her struggle and took all his strength not to waver.

  The words, when they came, started off quietly. Hesitant.

  “Everything changed on my sixteenth birthday when you sent me the ruby earrings.”


  He remembered the gift but said nothing and remained impassive.

  “That was when I went from drawing hearts around your name to imagining a romance. I thought ...” she murmured slowly. “Well, I thought you were trying to tell me something.”

  Parker studied her carefully. She was still panting, her face pale as death, and even with her wrists strapped down, her hands clenched in tight fists. Rolling a shoulder to relieve the tension, he resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. The period she referred to was when the real world threw him against a wall. Nothing had ever quite been the same. Those days gave him a firsthand understanding of just how fucked the whole planet was. He hadn’t carried a gun, but he’d been as up to his eyeballs in the terrorism war as Alex had been.

  “Months later, when I heard you’d be coming home for the annual parental anniversary blowout, I was convinced that all I had to do was let you know how desperately I loved you, and magically, everything would be perfect. Our age difference would go poof, and everyone would cheer us on. True love and all.”

  He didn’t like where this was going but wasn’t sure why. He searched his memory. Had he flown to Arizona for their parents’ shared anniversary party? Something uncomfortable swirled in his gut. Those had been dark and deadly times.

  “The house was full of people—it was a combined celebration. Dad still had the business then and Uncle Matt had the law practice. I wore a red dress and too much makeup. You were the star attraction that night. Big time DOJ lawyer.”

  She didn’t look at him at all as the memory unfolded.

  “I could go on and on about that night, but this isn’t about what I wore or how many times you fetched me a soda.”

  Parker took a deep breath when she turned her head away and gave a bitter laugh.

  “There was no sing-along back then like we do now, but both sets of parents did a solo dance to their wedding song. Aunt Wendy and Uncle Matt always started because they were the first married.”

  “‘At Last,’” he murmured. Etta James. Angie nodded, but her eyes remained closed off to him.

  “I was standing next to the archway in the foyer when my parents moved into position. You came up behind me, put your hand on my stomach, and pulled me back against you. As the song began, we swayed to the music. I was pretty sure the heavens smiled.”

  “‘Never My Love,’” he murmured out loud. Her jaw clenched and her fists hardened.

  “Indeed.”

  He was aware of his chest rising and falling as his breathing became rapid and harsh.

  She took a couple of fast, deep mouthfuls of air. “You sang the words to me,” she murmured with deathly calm. Her shoulder moved up and down as she remembered. “I could feel the words on my face as you sang into my ear.”

  A rolling shudder caused her body to quake. He considered ending the conversation because he really didn’t want to know.

  When a single tear rolled down her cheek, he understood what wishing for sudden death felt like.

  “It was all so perfect,” she choked out. “‘Never My Love.’”

  The lyrics to the classic ballad screamed at him from the recesses of his mind. He closed his eyes and prayed that was the end of it, but he was so wrong.

  “Sophie would call how I reacted a Sally Field’s moment. He loves me; he truly loves me.” She shook her head. “God, I was so stupid.”

  “Angie,” he muttered.

  She shook her head so vehemently her hair moved. “No. Let me finish.”

  Absolute, soul-searing panic seized him. He didn’t know how, but Parker was sure he’d fucked up in some monumental way. Why the hell did the past keep coming back to bite them on the ass?

  “As the song ended, you kissed my cheek and said see you later. To a teenager with romance on the brain, I assumed see you later was an invitation.”

  He gripped the arms of the chair. Ice water trickled through his veins. The sound she made when she laughed tore him apart.

  “And, of course, like the dimwitted twit that I was, when you left the house and walked into the darkness, I was certain it was a signal. A lover’s signal—to follow.” That was when she lifted her eyes to his. Briefly. “So I did,” she said as agony filled her expression.

  “At that point, I didn’t know the pool house was ground zero for fucking around but was soon to find out that’s exactly what it was.”

  Shit.

  Goddammit.

  Aw, fuck.

  “If I remember correctly—and I do,” she snarled. “One of your dad’s legal crew demonstrated her oral skills to the boss’s son. And you know how important a good oral argument is for a lawyer.”

  Was it possible to hate his dick because that was how he felt at the moment. There was no use in defending what he’d done. That was around the time he’d been sent overseas and dropped in the middle of a black ops site where he experienced his first military interrogation. Enhanced interrogation. He wasn’t proud of that period, and to this day, he cringed whenever he thought about the overly aggressive way he’d fucked everything that moved in the hopes that it’d dull the horror growing in his head.

  “I think,” Angie said in a tight, clipped voice, “that’s when I realized voyeurism wasn’t for me. But it was instructional,” she added mockingly. “Sort of killed the handsome hero trope in a big way, though.” She shrugged, and he saw her toes curl. “I never will understand, though, what makes a woman declare herself a dirty slut.”

  Oh, god. His eyes closed. This was way worse than anything he imagined.

  “Thank god I couldn’t really see you. Peeking around corners and through tiny crevices can be limiting. But I saw what she was doing, and I heard your, um, pleasure.”

  “Okay, stop,” he growled. Hearing more was not going to help.

  Ignoring him, she kept on.

  “I think you get the picture. Desperate, love-sick teenager with an overactive imagination. Grown man who didn’t owe me a single explanation. Moving on. So you know the rest of this. Even watching some woman give you a blowjob didn’t stop me from throwing myself at you the first second I could. Convinced it was just an age thing, I figured once I was legal you’d come and profess your undying love.”

  He swallowed hard and told himself to keep breathing.

  “Fast forward to me tied to your bed.”

  And then a long, hollow, sickening silence. They were each remembering their short, doomed love affair.

  “When I overheard you telling someone I was a little girl, a burden—you’d think I would have gotten a fucking clue. But still, no.”

  Tears rained down her cheeks. He hated himself more with each passing second.

  “Even after my family went to Spain, I believed you’d come for me. Throwing myself into the family winery, I concentrated on helping Sophie heal and making the vineyard a major success. Somehow, in my mind, I thought you’d see that I’d grown up and was ready. That was a good time because I matured and learned a lot. Had loads of friends. But where boys were concerned? I was an island. Saving myself for you.”

  Why was she still talking? Jesus Christ. How could there be more?

  Right before his eyes, she started to come apart. Her head dropped forward, and he was cut off from her expression by a tumble of hair. The heart-wrenching cry that preceded her next words chilled him to the bone.

  “I was so sure. So sure that one day you’d need me like I needed you.”

  Sobs tore from her chest, and her hands went from fists to limp. He could have lit himself on fire right then, and she wouldn’t notice because of how deeply lost she was in the memory.

  Looking at the ceiling, she sniffed and shook the hair from her face. “And then Uncle Matt had the heart attack. Dad freaked out. Mom too. We flew home so fast there was no time to pack.”

  Parker hated thinking about that time. He’d been a right, royal mess—dealing with the prospect that he might lose his father and his mother’s uncontrollable fear.

  “For days, I hung ar
ound the hospital, but you didn’t say a word. Never even looked at me. I was crushed.”

  Fresh, agonizing sobs broke out. “I saw you through a window—talking to the doctors. You looked scared and alone. I wanted to go to you and make it all right. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. The message in your attitude was clear. You didn’t need me.”

  Scalding hot tears welled in his eyes. Seeing and hearing her agony were more than he could handle.

  “When I went home, nothing mattered. It was all over from my point of view. I didn’t have your love and waiting around for that to change wasn’t working out so well.”

  She started to tremble, but her body was limp. “All along the way, there were signs that I ignored. The other women. The age difference. Your denial. My foolishness. It was all for nothing.”

  Thinking that was it, he started to get up from his chair so he could remove her restraints. There was some explaining to do. He was totally unprepared for the lightning bolt that struck him when she literally opened her mouth and wailed like a wounded animal taking its final breaths.

  “Oh, my god. Oh, my god,” she cried. “I gave myself to another man, a man I didn’t even like because I loved you so much that it was killing me.”

  He froze. His jaw dropped open. Her pain unleashed a fierce response that was totally out of place. Didn’t she know how close he came to killing that pathetic piece of shit she got engaged to? What the fuck was his name? Esperanza. Yeah. Aldo Esperanza. The guy was lucky to still be breathing.

  “I hate that fucking song,” she shrieked at the top of her lungs. “Every time I hear it, I’m right back there. Reliving each denial, everything.”

  She folded in half as much as she could and sobbed uncontrollably.

  Moving with speed, he released the restraints and caught her when she faltered. Scooping her up in his arms, he held her while she cried—walking slowly to their bedroom.

  There were plenty of things to say—things he should have said before now—but this moment wasn’t about him or the explanations on his tongue. He hadn’t meant to break her down, and the way she’d fallen apart horrified him.