Wild Abandon

by Ronica Black

  “So you’re never going to ride with me again?” It seemed so ludicrous to just give it all up. Couldn’t he see how crazy he was being?

  “I never said that.”

  “Then what are you saying? Because I’m confused.” Her growing anger was evident in her tone.

  “I will ride with you, but not anytime soon. And never like we did last time. It’s too dangerous.”

  Chan started to speak but changed her mind. No words were coming. Hank, though, had more to say.

  “I wish you would stop too.” He reached for the plateful of food and moved to stand directly in front of her. “I want you to be around. To be in my kid’s life.”

  “Who says I won’t be?”

  His eyes became very serious. “If you keep riding like you do, the speeding, the weaving…I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.”

  “Since when are you afraid of anything, Hank?”

  “Since now, Chan. I’m going to be a father. I can’t afford to go out daring the devil anymore. I have a child to consider. My son, or daughter, has a right to a healthy father.” He paused and then continued softly, “I wish you would stop to think about that too.”

  Chan felt her body stiffen. So much was happening. Her brother was changing his ways and his life, and he wholeheartedly expected her to do the same. But she couldn’t. She needed to ride. It was the only way she could handle problems, put things in perspective. When she was riding nothing else mattered; she was free.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” she said. “I see your point, but I don’t have your responsibilities.”

  “Really? So you think Meg won’t need us when she’s too old to care for herself. You don’t think anyone else cares about you?” His tone had changed and he sounded like he did when Sarah had pulled them over—impatient with her stubborn attitude and wild ways. He moved past her and yanked open the door. Just before he stepped inside, he faced her and said wearily, “At least start wearing a helmet.”

  Chan shoved her hands firmly down into her pockets and stepped inside after her him. As she followed him in silence into the kitchen, her mind flew with all that she’d been told. She understood why Hank was hanging up his riding boots. He was obviously concerned and afraid; he had a new life he was responsible for. But Chan thought he was overreacting. It was one thing to be a little more cautious, but to quit altogether out of fear? And to expect her to do the same? No way.

  She noticed a few uncomfortable glances between Hank and Kelly. Meg seemed to feel the tension too and busied herself retrieving silverware from a drawer. Suddenly Chan felt like an outsider. She knew they—all three of them—would agree and insist that she stop riding. It would be even worse now that Meg had someone on her side.

  Feeling trapped and anxious, she said, “I’m not feeling too well.” All three raised their eyes to hers in surprise. “I don’t feel much like eating, so I’m going to take off.”

  She had to get out, to escape the worried stares and inevitable disappointed shakes of the heads. Her legs carried her to the door quickly, leading her outside into the dim evening. She straddled her bike with her heart beating madly in her chest. She suddenly realized she was afraid of her own family’s judgment and concern. Hank jogged after her and spoke before she could crank her engine.

  “Chan, wait.” He held on to one of her handlebars. “I only said what I did because I love you.”

  She sat very still, startled once again by his words.

  “Please, come in and have dinner.”

  She licked her dry lips, her emotions swirling in a churning sea of confusion, shock and fear. It wasn’t just Hank and all that he had said. It was everything. Her life, her loneliness, Sarah. She shook her head, upset at herself for letting Sarah Monroe back into her mind.

  “I can’t stay. I’ve got too much on my mind tonight. I wouldn’t be good company.” There was no way she could stay and sit at the table with that heavy silence she knew would be there, hanging so low over them. She would suffocate.

  Accepting defeat, Hank hung his head and stepped back, allowing her to start her powerful bike.

  She eased out of the drive and gave him one last look. “I’m sorry,” she said again and swallowed the burning in her throat.

  She sped away, leaving her brother standing alone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sarah awoke from a deep, sound sleep to find herself on her sofa. She pushed herself up and rubbed her face. Her place still lay in ruins. She squinted against the harshness of the sun blasting in through the bars of her miniblinds in bright, piercing rays. Her sensitive eyes focused on her hands, where a large, thick envelope rested. She had found it hours ago, amidst the many letters and papers on the floor. It was her notification of acceptance into the FBI. She had been so preoccupied the past several days, she had failed to notice it when bringing in her mail. Now, as she read and reread it, she felt numb. It was as if it no longer meant anything to her. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe nothing would ever matter again.

  Moving slowly and stiffly into the kitchen, she tugged open the fridge for something cold to drink. Her reality seemed hazy, thick and warping. The hours that passed seemed like seconds, clearly evident in the way her stomach growled angrily and her thirst caused her to down the rest of her milk from the plastic gallon. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and replaced her phone back on its charger. She plugged it back in, vaguely remembering that she had tugged it from the wall.

  It rang right away and she let it, waiting as her answering machine picked up. It was Dave. He was worried about her and wanted her to call him. He hadn’t heard from her in days and she had even called in sick to work, something she had never done before.

  Sarah groaned. She didn’t feel like talking to him quite yet, didn’t know how to answer the questions he would no doubt ask. Avoiding the inevitable, she continued to clean for about an hour or so, her mind constantly working. With Scottie faced and dealt with, she thought about her father. She had put her mother off yet again, and now she wondered what the next call would bring when it came. As if it knew her thoughts, the phone rang again, slamming panic through her.

  This time she snatched it up, but she was too afraid to say hello.

  “Sarah?” The voice was familiar but was not that of her mother.

  Sighing with relief, she responded, “Yes?”

  “It’s Danielle.” At once Sarah’s insides hardened. “I have some news.”

  “What?” Her jaws tightened in angry confusion. News? What the hell was she talking about?

  “I’ve met someone new.”

  Sarah breathed in a powerful breath, startled by the phone call itself, not the news. Regardless, it was a breath Danielle obviously heard.

  “Yes, she’s lovely. And phenomenal in bed.”

  As Sarah tried to get a grip on what was happening, Danielle continued talking, taking full advantage of her silence.

  “She’s passionate, sensual, and the noises she makes when I fuck her…” She laughed a wicked-sounding laugh.

  “You’ve…slept with her?” The words came out before Sarah could stop them. She was thinking aloud.

  More laughter. “Many times!”

  Sarah felt her brow furrow. “Then what the hell were you doing begging for it from me?”

  The irritating laughter stopped. But Danielle spoke quickly, her tone nonchalant. “I only came by to return your jacket. But when I saw how hung up you were over me, I couldn’t very well tell you no, now, could I?”

  “You could’ve mentioned her.” Sarah’s temple began to pound.

  “And shatter your heart even more?”

  “My heart isn’t shattered.”

  “It seemed that way to me. The way you got upset during sex…”

  “I wasn’t about to give you what you wanted. I wasn’t about to let you use me again.”

  “Use you! Is that what you think?”

  “I don’t think it, I know it,” Sarah said through clenched teeth. “Why do you
think I refused to let you come?”

  More laughter flowed over the line. “I’m the one who left! I had obligations and I allowed myself to get caught up in your pain—”

  “Save it!” Sarah pulled the phone from her ear, having heard enough. Danielle could still set her nerves aflame, and Sarah hated herself for that. She gripped the phone so hard her knuckles whitened.

  “Sarah, Sarah, are you okay?” Danielle questioned with mock concern. “I hope I haven’t upset you.”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes. Upsetting her was the purpose of the phone call. Revenge for the other morning. But she wasn’t going to let Danielle get the best of her. She slammed down the phone on its charger and stood there for a moment, furious, then she marched into the bathroom and twisted on the shower.

  While Danielle’s words fueled her rage, it wasn’t what she was solely concerned about. As she stripped and stepped into the hot stream of water, only one thing went through her mind.

  Chandler Brogan.

  *

  With an astonishing amount of newfound energy, Sarah soon found herself sitting in her truck contemplating her next move, just as she’d done the day of her counseling appointment and the day she had gone to find Scottie. Cringing at the embarrassing thought of the appointment, and the shameful and exposed feelings it caused to surface, she wrinkled her brow and studied Chandler’s house.

  It appeared to be quiet, the garage closed, the wind chime hanging by the front door singing its song with the evening breeze. The street was nearly bare, with the exception of a sky-colored sedan parked just down from Chandler’s driveway. The car registered with her because she had a feeling she’d seen it before. Squeezing her hands on the warm steering wheel, she tried to place it, even wondering briefly if it belonged to someone Chandler was seeing.

  For a split second, she glared at the car, then she reminded herself that Chandler had a right to see whomever she wanted. There was nothing between the two of them, so there was no reason for Sarah to feel jealous, if that’s what it was.

  She stared out the window and tried to settle her nerves. She didn’t know why she was here, couldn’t even remember the drive over. All she knew was that Danielle’s phone call had sent her into a frenzy of fury and action. Danielle’s words had hit her hard, and Sarah had immediately thought about Chandler and what it would mean if it had been she calling to report on a new lover. It would kill her.

  God damn it. She formed a fist and thumped her steering wheel with frustration. Like it or not, she cared. Not about Danielle, but about Chandler. The more she thought about it, the more it ate at her, forcing up the fact that Sarah didn’t really know the woman at all. The realization made her mad. If only she hadn’t run from Chandler. If only she had given her a chance. Maybe she would know her better. She wanted to know her better.

  She shook her head. From what little she did know, she didn’t think Chandler was the type to date one woman exclusively. She was way too passionate a lover and too wild in her ways. But Sarah couldn’t bear to think about Chandler having sex with another woman, especially when she relived how incredible being with Chandler was.

  With that last thought in mind, she climbed out of her truck and closed the door. The wind greeted her with warm caresses, running through her dark hair, allowing the setting sun to kiss the skin of her neck. Taking a courage-seeking breath, she squared her shoulders and let her hands fall to her sides, trying her best to look relaxed and casual. She strolled up the driveway with her heart thumping wildly and came to a standstill at the front door.

  The wind chime spoke its hellos, causing her insides to jump a bit. Why am I so nervous? It’s just a woman. She’s just another…The thought dissipated, finding no ground to stand on. Her nervous hand found the back of her neck where it rubbed beneath the collar of her snug-fitting chocolate brown T-shirt. Regardless of what her pride preached, she knew she couldn’t walk away, no matter how hard she tried.

  Admitting that truth, she finally reached out and pushed the doorbell.

  Its gentle call echoed through the house, distant and faint. Sarah’s heart doubled its pace as she realized she didn’t have any idea what she would say. What was the reason for her visit? “Hi, I’m here because I’m insane with jealousy at the thought of you with someone else”? She shook her head, upset at herself for not preparing, for not thinking of this on the way over. She shifted her feet and scrambled for something to say. “I came by to see how you were…” No, lame and needy. Chandler would see right through it. “I was wondering if you were seeing anyone else…” No. She flushed with embarrassment. She would sound like an idiot, like a fool.

  That’s it! She shifted her feet, anxious for the door to open. I’ll just tell her I came to apologize for running out so suddenly the other night.

  Relaxing a little at having found the right words, she rang the doorbell a second time and waited, sure of her words but not completely sure of her motives. After a couple of minutes, her assuredness began to dim as she realized that Chandler wasn’t home—or wasn’t answering her door, for reasons Sarah didn’t want to think about.

  All that, the worry, the build up, the craziness. For nothing. Cursing herself, she walked back to her truck.

  Night was just falling and the colors of day still lingered, pinks and oranges giving way to purples and blues. Her nerves, along with her thoughts and feelings, were doing much the same—the newly found and fresh mixing with the feelings that had always been there, painting a new and different picture.

  She climbed into her truck and put it into drive. As she pulled onto the street, she couldn’t resist looking once more at the blue sedan. Did Chandler know its driver? Angry with herself for going there, she gripped the steering wheel and hit the gas. She should never have come here. What in hell was she thinking?

  Chapter Eighteen

  The cool night air beat against Chan’s face and chest, easing the pain resonating from her insides. Streaking onto the highway, she made her way over to the far left lane. She needed to speed, needed to leave all her troubles far behind in the slower lanes. Faster and harder, she pushed her machine, lowering her body and holding her bars tightly, until she felt as one with her bike.

  Like a glowing ball of light, searing down the highway in a laser line, she and her bike were in a protective shell of wind, connected. Nothing could stop her, nothing could harm her. A car honked at her as she breezed by it. Others sounded still in the wind as she passed them. She glanced up at a highway sign. She had traveled ten miles. She hunkered down again. Ten miles wasn’t nearly enough. Faces and words were still hot on her tail, one face in particular.

  The siren blared behind her, as if it knew who she was thinking about. Jerking, she clenched her jaw and contemplated speeding up and forcing Sarah to chase her. Anger spread through her as the siren continued its wail. Damn her. Damn this cop for coming into her life. Sarah had corrupted her thoughts, her bed, and her ways. Now she was behind her, no doubt ready to do what Hank had just done, what she’d done the first time they’d met—tell her to stop. Threaten her, even.

  Chan wasn’t about to let that happen. She pushed on, forcing the patrol car to chase her. Sarah wouldn’t see her on a personal level, she wouldn’t let Chan help her, and yet she still felt she had the right to tell Chan how to live her life. Well, she would have to catch her first. Blood beat hot in her ears as she pressed on, ignoring the screaming police cruiser behind her. She wove through a few cars and settled back into the left lane.

  A loud voice cut through the siren and she turned, sensing the car pull alongside her. “Pull over!” yelled the law.

  Chan straightened, startled that the voice wasn’t Sarah’s. It was deeper, male. She squinted to her right and saw the officer behind the wheel. Oh God. Suddenly panicked, she slowed her bike and made her way to the right shoulder, where she skidded to a stop. Fear raced through her as she realized what she had done. She had nearly gotten herself into a high-speed chase. All over some one-night
stand. She rested her head in her hand in frustration. Surely she was going to be arrested.

  “Step off your bike, please.”

  Chan did as requested, on shaky, unsure legs still tingling from her ride. She smoothed down her jeans and coughed to shake the fear hardening in her throat. The officer approached her, pulling off his wide-brimmed hat. Tucking it under one arm, he halted in front of her and said, “Dr. Brogan.”

  “Dave.” She recognized his face at once.

  “Yes. Dave Houston.”

  Her fear gave way to nervousness. He recognized her, and she wasn’t sure how that made her feel. He was a friend of Sarah’s and she didn’t know what that would ultimately mean. He obviously knew Sarah from work, but just how close were they? She thought of all the men she knew similar to Dave. He probably knew about Sarah’s sexuality but excused it because he saw her as just one of the guys. To him, she probably wasn’t even a woman.

  She could see his masculinity now as he stared her down. The energy he exuded stirred in with her other emotions, all of them boiled by the heat of anger. She couldn’t believe she was thinking of Sarah, a woman who had friends like Dave. “I’m sorry about all this.” She motioned with her hands back toward the highway, where cars zoomed by loudly. Her beef wasn’t with him and she wanted him to know that. “I thought you were…” She lowered her eyes, suddenly realizing how that must sound.

  “You thought I was Sarah?” He caught on, regardless of her attempt to silence the sentence.

  Sighing with sudden nervousness, she nodded. “Yeah. Crazy, huh?”

  She cursed herself, not needing to look the crazy hotheaded fool in front of him but doing a damn good job of it.

  He held her eyes for a long while with his small serious ones. “I won’t even ask just what in hell’s going on with the two of you,” he said. “But this,” he pointed to her bike, “has got to stop.”

  “There’s nothing going on,” she said.