Already Gone

by Kristen Proby

  “Because Officer Perry was a sick fuck and allowed the little bit of cleavage you flashed him to get us off the hook.”

  Scarlett’s eyes flare to life. I’ve seen that look a thousand times, which is why I shake my head. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  Yeah, right. She thought about it, and I couldn’t say that I wouldn’t have enjoyed the hell out of it. “You could’ve killed someone.”

  “Tucker—”

  “Or yourself. License and registration. I won’t ask again,” I say with an air of authority.

  “For some reason, I don’t think you’d care,” she mumbles as she digs around in her purse and glove box. When she retrieves what she’s looking for, she slaps the cards into my hand. “You’re not really going to give me a ticket, are you?”

  “This isn’t L.A. or Nashville or New York, or wherever the hell you normally are. Your name and your money won’t get you out of this.”

  “God,” she growls, tossing her hands into the air. “I wasn’t using my name or money to try and get out of anything. Why do people keep saying that?”

  Instead of answering, I pat the side of her car. “Sit tight. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “I have places to be,” she yells, sticking her head out the window.

  “Don’t we all, sweetheart?”

  She huffs, and I can’t help but laugh as I climb into my car. I pull up my computer, punch in a few numbers, and take a whole hell of a lot longer to go through the process of issuing a ticket than it would normally take—just to piss her off.

  When the clock hits five, indicating the end of my shift, I slide from the car.

  “Slow down next time,” I say, handing her the ticket along with her cards.

  She rips them from my hand, tosses them on the front seat, and rolls up the window without a word.

  I watch her pull onto the road before climbing into my car and following behind her. Not because she’s done something wrong or because I’m trying to keep an eye on her, but because I’m certain she’s heading to her dad’s house, and I happen to live next door.

  I’m sure that’ll tick her off.

  I grin, enjoying myself more than I have in years.

  It only takes us about ten minutes to wind our way through town. Scarlett pulls into the driveway of her childhood home, and since my brother’s car is in mine, I park on the street.

  My eyes are drawn to her toned legs as she climbs out of the car.

  Scarlett fucking Kincaid.

  If she weren’t standing in front of me giving me the stink-eye, I’d swear I was seeing things.

  “You didn’t need to follow me home,” she says, with a hand on her hip. “In case you didn’t notice, I went the speed limit.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t following you.”

  “Really?” She lifts a well-manicured eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest.

  She’s as untouchable now as the day she left.

  “You haven’t changed a bit,” I say, leaning a hip against the back of my car.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.” Fighting a grin, I shake my head and walk up my driveway toward the house at the same time my brother steps onto the front porch.

  “I don’t have time for this shit. I’m going in to see my dad.” She grabs something from her car, locks it, and heads for the front door.

  “You’re heading in the wrong direction.”

  She stops, her purse clenched tightly in her fist. “Excuse me?”

  “Your dad’s not here. He had a stroke yesterday.”

  “Yes, I know. Why do you think I’m here?”

  I want nothing more than to make some offhanded comment about her being so disconnected from her family and the life she left behind that she doesn’t even know where her own father is, but the thought of Rick lying in a hospital bed waiting to see his little girl stops me.

  Richard Kincaid is one of the best men I know, and it’s not his fault that his daughter is a selfish brat.

  “He’s at New Hope General. He’s getting released after the doctor makes evening rounds.”

  Scarlett lifts her eyes as though she’s shocked that I know more about her dad’s whereabouts than she does. Or maybe it’s disappointment. Who the hell knows?

  “How do you know he’s getting released?”

  “Lexi called me.”

  “Lexi,” she laughs. “Since when do you call her Lexi? You used to hate my sister.”

  “You’ve been gone a long time. A lot has changed.” Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I turn toward my house. “Welcome home, princess.”

  3

  ~Scarlett~

  “Welcome home, princess,” I mimic as I drive my car—faster than the speed limit, thank you very much—and wish that I’d taken up smoking in the eleventh grade when Sheila Masters tried to push a cigarette on me.

  Because I’m mad, and it’s too damn early to drink.

  Not to mention, I gave that up a long time ago.

  Who the hell does Tucker Andrews think he is speaking to me like that? I was never anything but nice to that guy. I mean, was a warm hello too much to ask for after being gone so long?

  Apparently so. If this is how my return to New Hope is going to go, I’ll be escaping back to Nashville as soon as humanly possible. Even if I have to pack up Daddy and take him with me.

  I park my rental and hurry into the small hospital where I was born. A young woman at the visitor desk looks up at me with a smile, and then her eyes widen, and she blinks rapidly.

  “Holy shit,” she says.

  “Hi,” I reply and flash her a smile in return. “I’m here to see Rick Kincaid. Can you please tell me what room he’s in?”

  “They told me you might visit,” she says, swallowing hard. “But I wasn’t prepared.”

  “Well, I’m his daughter.” I wink at her and keep the grin on my face, but I want to shake her. Just tell me where he is!

  “Of course,” she says, clearing her throat as she types on her keyboard. “You know, I’m a singer.”

  Of course, you are. I refrain from rolling my eyes, but just barely.

  “That’s awesome.”

  “I put some videos on YouTube. My name is Kathleen Perry. Maybe you could go listen sometime. I’ve sung some of your songs.”

  “Thank you,” I reply. “I’ll be sure to do that. But could you please tell me where I can find my daddy?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says with a giggle. “I got carried away. Your dad’s in room three twelve. Take the elevator to the third floor and make a right.”

  “Great, thank you.”

  I hurry away before I get sucked into more conversation. She’s a nice woman, but I’m anxious to see my dad.

  The elevator takes forever to arrive, and I can feel her eyes on my back, so I rush over to the stairwell and climb the three flights, taking two steps at a time. I’m not even breathing hard when I rush through the doors on the third floor and find the room.

  “There’s my girl,” Dad says when I come through the door.

  “Hi, Daddy.” I rush over to him and kiss his cheek, then park my hip on the bed next to him. He looks pale and tired, but his speech doesn’t seem affected, and that’s a wonderful thing. “How are you feeling?”

  “Oh, I’m fine, honey. I keep telling everyone that I’m fine, but they don’t listen.”

  “Because you’d never say if you weren’t,” I remind him and look over at Alexis, who’s sitting on the windowsill, her hands in her lap, and her mouth locked shut. “Hey, Lexi.”

  “Took you long enough to get here,” is all she says.

  “I had to take a red-eye to Charleston, then rent a car and drive down. You know it’s not easy getting in or out of here.”

  She doesn’t reply, just narrows her eyes and glares at me.

  Typical Alexis.

  “I’m happy to see you,” Dad says and kisses my chee
k.

  “I’m happy to see you, too,” I reply with a smile. “When can we spring you out of here?”

  “Soon, I hope,” he says and sighs.

  “Dad, you had a stroke,” Lexi reminds him.

  “Tell me everything,” I say. “Lexi didn’t tell me much last night.”

  “We were having dinner,” Dad begins, frowning. “I was at Lexi’s place, and she made us spaghetti.”

  “Yum,” I say with a smile, but Lexi just rolls her eyes.

  “Suddenly, I was having trouble chewing and talking, and then my face started to feel funny. Thankfully, Jason was there, and he called an ambulance right away.”

  Lexi’s husband, Jason, is a family doctor in New Hope.

  “Thank goodness,” I agree and smile as I brush my fingers through my dad’s salt and pepper strands. He’s sixty, but he still has a full head of hair.

  “He had a hemorrhagic stroke,” Lexi explains. “They caught it early enough and were able to administer medicine to keep it from getting worse. He’s had scans and bloodwork and, thankfully, everything seems to be stable right now.”

  “Do they know what caused it?”

  “High blood pressure,” she says, giving Daddy a pointed look.

  “I didn’t know you had high blood pressure.”

  He shrugs as though it isn’t a big deal. “The doctor may have mentioned it a time or two.”

  “And you didn’t think you should do something about it?”

  Dad stares at me and then looks at Alexis for help. When he realizes that she’s not going to take his side, he sighs. “I know, okay? I know. I shouldn’t have ignored it.”

  Lexi clears her throat and takes a step forward. “They started him on blood pressure medicine, but the damage has already been done. He has right-sided weakness and will require occupational, speech, and physical therapy.”

  “You have some work to do,” I say to him and kiss his forehead. “But if anyone can do it, it’s you, Daddy.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he says again.

  “I’m staying with you,” I say, surprising us all. Now that I’m here, and I see Dad like this, there’s no way I can entertain leaving anytime soon. I need to be here for him, to make sure he’s okay. And not because Lexi threw one of her fits.

  Because I love him, and I want to be here with him through this.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Dad says, but I’m already shaking my head.

  “Yes, I do. Dad, you need someone to take you to and from therapy and to help you out at home. I know Lexi’s awesome, but she has kids and her own household to run.”

  “I’ll be fine by myself,” he says, but he doesn’t sound so sure.

  “It’s already been decided,” I reply, standing to put my hands on my hips. “I’m here indefinitely. We get to be roomies again.”

  “Well, this is a treat,” he says with a laugh.

  “I don’t know how to cook very well,” I warn him with a smile. “But I’m sure Lexi can give me pointers.”

  “Sure, she will,” Dad says, and we both look over at Lexi, who looks like she’s about to explode into a trillion pieces. “Lexi?”

  “Sure,” she says with a huff. “Scarlett just waltzes in here and saves the day, but I’m still the one who gets to do everything.”

  “You know what?” I reply, not letting my smile slip even though she’s hurting my feelings. She always does. I should be used to it by now. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll grab some recipes from the internet. Dad and I won’t starve.”

  She sighs, looking a little guilty, but she won’t look me in the eyes, and I know damn well that I’ll never get an apology from her.

  “I’ll bring over some things you can freeze and just warm up,” she says to Dad. “It’ll be okay.”

  “Thank you,” Dad replies. “Now, where is that doctor? I’m ready to go home. The Bachelor is on tonight.”

  Daddy wasn’t lying. He totally watches The Bachelor. And, it seems every other reality TV show there is because he told me his whole TV schedule on our drive home from the hospital.

  “How’s it going?” Sue asks in my ear.

  “Not as bad as I thought,” I reply, sitting on the full-sized bed in my old bedroom. “Dad’s downstairs watching TV. I have all of his medicines, and a schedule of therapies to take him to. He can walk, but he’s shaky, so he needs a walker to start off with, and my dad is as stubborn as they come, so he’s not happy about it.”

  “But he’s going to be okay?”

  “Yes,” I reply confidently. “He’s going to recover. It’s just going to take a little time.”

  “I’m glad you’re there, Scar.”

  “Honestly, I am, too. Lexi’s fit to be tied, and Tucker’s not happy to see me, but Dad is, and I’m here for him.”

  “Who’s Tucker?”

  The best friend I ever had who now doesn’t even want to look at me.

  “A guy I used to know. He pulled me over on my way into town.”

  I tell Sue the story, and she immediately laughs.

  “Okay, so it’s funny now, but it wasn’t then.”

  “I’m just glad you’re there safe and sound, and that Rick’s going to be okay.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Now, what do you need?”

  I stare around the room, suddenly feeling a little lost. My dad’s house has been updated. Last year, he called to let me know that he needed some new plumbing and electrical work, and I took the opportunity to remodel a bit. So, the house is comfortable, and we shouldn’t have any issues there.

  “I don’t think I need anything right away,” I reply, thinking about it. “I have a lot of clothes with me. I brought my laptop and guitar so I can write. Oh, I know.”

  “Name it.”

  “I rented a car in Charleston, but since I’m here indefinitely, I’m going to need a more permanent mode of transportation. I’ll see if Dad will let me drive his around since he won’t be cleared for driving for a while.”

  “Want me to arrange for the rental company to come and get the car?”

  “Yeah.” I sigh and rub my hand over my eyes. Shit, I’m tired. “Thanks. Thanks for everything, Sue.”

  “Hey, this is what I do, remember?”

  “You’re good at it.”

  “I know.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Don’t worry about anything at all. Go take care of your dad, and just holler if you need me.”

  “Will do.”

  We hang up, and I sigh again. My room hasn’t changed since I left town. My old cheerleading uniform still hangs in the closet, my homecoming queen tiara rests on a shelf, and there’s even makeup sitting on the vanity.

  A photo tucked in the corner of my mirror catches my attention. I walk over to get a closer look. When I realize it’s a picture of Tucker and me, I pick it up. A thick coat of dust hides Tucker’s wide smile. Using my thumb, I wipe it away, remembering the day the photo was taken. Daddy took us fishing at old man Langerman’s pond. I caught a fish on my first cast. Tucker wrapped his arm around my shoulders, congratulating me at the same time Daddy captured the moment.

  With a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth, I tuck the photo back where it was and blow out a long breath. I wasn’t expecting to see that. Hell, I wasn’t expecting to see any of this.

  It’s as if I took a short trip, and Dad expected me to come right back.

  Maybe he had, preparing for if the Nashville thing didn’t work out.

  I shake my head and decide to leave my past in the past for now. After checking the bathroom for towels, I pull fresh sheets out of a closet and dress the bed.

  Once that’s finished, I walk down to find Dad asleep in front of the TV. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he’s snoring softly.

  My God, what would I have done if this hadn’t been a little stroke? What if I’d lost him?

  The enormity of the last twenty-four hours hits me, and I just hang my head in my hands and let the tears come.

&
nbsp; “Hey, baby girl, what’s wrong?”

  I look up in surprise and wipe the tears from my cheeks.

  “You were sleeping.”

  “Nah, I was just resting my eyes,” he says with a wink. We both know that’s a little white lie.

  “I guess I’m just tired,” I say and then sigh and sit next to him on the couch, holding his hand, noting his weak grip. “Everything just kind of hit me.”

  “It’s been a busy day,” he agrees. “Thank you, Scar. For being here.”

  “Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I remind him. “But if you wanted me to come home, you could have just asked. This seems a bit dramatic.”

  He chuckles and tries to squeeze my hand. “I’ll remember that next time.”

  4

  ~ Tucker ~

  “You didn’t ID her.”

  “Didn’t need to,” Scooter says, grinning as he watches the young blonde strut away.

  My cousin is nothing if not a ladies’ man. He has more charm in his pinky than most men have period. The problem is, he doesn’t know when to shut it off, and his boyish grin has gotten him into trouble more than once.

  “Damn it, Scooter. I’m off duty tonight. The last thing I want to do is watch another officer haul you off to jail.”

  “No, the last thing you want to do is bail me out.”

  “That, too.” I don’t smile back at him when he tries to use his charm on me.

  “Well, don’t worry about either one of those. She’s over twenty-one.”

  “How do you know? You didn’t even card her.”

  “The same way I know about the birthmark on her right inner thigh, and how I know she likes to scream out that I’m her Big Daddy when she’s about to—”

  I hold up my hand. “I get it. You’ve slept with her.”

  He shrugs. “Once or twice. And you know I don’t dip my stick into just anyone. I have standards.”

  “Jesus.” Shaking my head, I take a drink of my beer. Sure, he has standards. Those of an alley cat.

  “And for the record,” he adds, “I carded her when she first came in.”

  “Thank God.”