The Marked Star

by Vicki Hinze

  Nick sat down beside her. “You surprised me last night—about the engineering.”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you.”

  “Yeah, you said your dad insisted.”

  “Confidentiality agreement, actually.” She nodded. “I didn’t like not being totally honest with you, for what it’s worth. I tried to convince him, but…” Her voice faltered. “Just so you know.”

  “I understand.” He said it, but whether or not he actually believed it, she couldn’t tell. “It’s just that people rarely surprise me,” he admitted. “You did.”

  He sounded more intrigued than angry. That was encouraging. “I’m sorry it was in a bad way.”

  “Not bad, really. You might cross your father, but you could hardly go against your boss and lose your clearances, could you?”

  “No, I couldn’t. Not either of them really. Not on that. But I could have fought harder. It’s just that . . .” She shouldn’t say it. She really shouldn’t say it.

  “What?”

  She looked into Nick’s eyes. “My parents have always kept a lot things private. They raised me to live that way, too. It was my normal.”

  “I gathered that.”

  Surprised, she cocked her head. “From what?”

  “They refused to give you their name, Elle.”

  Resentment feathered on the edges of panic. “You know that?”

  “I know Bostwick is your maternal grandmother’s maiden name, and it’s what’s on your birth certificate. My only question is why would your parents do that?”

  A question she’d spent more than half her life contemplating and most of it resenting. “Do you want the truth or their sanitized version?”

  “I always prefer the truth.”

  So did she. “When it comes to me, they’re paranoid, Nick.”

  “They have reason to be.”

  “I know.” She did. Half the nuts the world would love to get their hands on what her father and she produced. The other half wanted his money and would be more than happy to use or abuse her to get it. “But having your own parents deny you as their child…that’s not fun.”

  “It hurt you a lot and for a long time.”

  She held her silence.

  “I imagine it still does hurt you.”

  Something in his voice snagged her ear. Something that struck her like empathy, not sympathy. “Were you denied by your parents, too?”

  He hesitated, and she let him off the hook. “You don’t have to answer, if you’d rather not. I certainly understand. It’s hard to think about and nearly impossible to talk about with anyone, even yourself.”

  “My mother left my dad and me. I was six.“ He didn’t quite meet her eyes, focused on her chin instead. “I went to school one day and, when I came home, she was gone. We never heard from her again.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Abandonment. The boy he’d been must have been mortified. Terrified. Was that what hurt him? Broke him?

  “My father remarried in short order.” A little tremor strained his voice. “I couldn’t find any evidence of him bothering to divorce my mother first. But a couple weeks after my mother left, he and Jacinda married.”

  Weeks? Clearly, there’d been no divorce. “Was she good to you?”

  “Good? That’s a relative term, isn’t it?” He hiked a shoulder. “She didn't lock me in a closet, but she hated me on sight and she never let me forget it.”

  “Why? You were just a little boy.” And how had she reminded him?

  “Because I existed.” The look in his eyes turned deadpan flat. “She was beautiful. I never trusted her, but I respected her—at least, I did until I overheard her convincing my father that I had to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “She didn’t care where, so long as it was away from them.”

  Indignation swelled in Elle. “I hope he set her straight.”

  Nick paused a long beat, then answered. “Not exactly.”

  His own father didn’t stand up for him? “What happened?”

  “He beat me to within an inch of my life for making Jacinda worry, said if she left him too, it’d all be my fault and he wasn’t having it. Then he shipped me off to boarding school.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Not kidding,” he said, the distant look in his eyes warning her he was reliving the incident in his mind. “I didn’t see either of them again until after I graduated from college.”

  “No.” Her chest went tight, ached for the abandoned boy he’d been, the betrayed son who could trust neither his mother nor his father. “Your mother, either?”

  “Never heard from her again.” He shrugged. “I went to see my dad right before I enlisted in the military. Jacinda wouldn’t let me in the house. She said to come back the next morning. So I got a motel room and went back to their house the next morning.”

  It hadn’t gone well. That much was evident. “Was your dad there?”

  “No. Neither was Jacinda.” Nick stiffened. “In the middle of the night, they’d packed up lock, stock, and barrel and had taken off for parts unknown.”

  “They just left? Without you seeing them? Without your dad knowing you were there?”

  “They left. He knew I’d been there. The neighbor next door heard them arguing about me in the driveway. He didn’t want to go away and Jacinda didn’t want him to see me again. She won.” The look in Nick’s eyes turned bitter. “That’s the thing, Elle. In my life, people never stay. They make promises and vows , but then they leave. They always leave.”

  What he said broke her heart. But it also infuriated her. “Nick, did Jacinda tell you it was your fault they were leaving?”

  “My father did. In a note he taped to the back door. He was pretty ticked off at having to give up his house and job.”

  “What was his job?”

  Nick shrugged. “I’m not sure. He was gone all the time. That much I know.”

  “Haven’t you ever looked to find out?”

  “Why? They didn’t want me in their lives and I sure don’t want them in mine.”

  “I’d want to know.”

  “Why?”

  “I just would.” Elle tilted her head. “A part of me would always wonder if it was my fault. The more I could find out, the more I’d know whether or not it was actually my fault. Either way, I’d want to know.”

  “That’s because you care.”

  Elle touched his forearm. “I think you care, too, Nick. I think you hate caring, but I think you still do care.”

  He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again without uttering a sound.

  “So their leaving was your fault, too.”

  “According to my father.”

  “Unbelievable.” The fury in Elle burned deeper. “And Jacinda said—what?”

  “Nothing. I never saw her again on that last trip.”

  Relief at that flooded Elle. The woman had done more than enough damage. “There was another trip?”

  “Almost.” His voice came out sharp, firm. “I called once before, during my junior year of college. I didn't want to be alone on Christmas.” He looked away. “Always before, someone was around at boarding school. But that year, everyone had plans so it’d be just me. I called my dad to see if I could come for a visit.”

  Tension coiled tight in Elle. “You’d never asked before.”

  “No, never.” He stared at the coffeepot. “At first, I was angry at being sent away and I wanted my dad to miss me. I had all these elaborate plans for when he called and said I should come home for a visit. I wouldn’t be able to make it. I wanted him to feel as alone as I felt. He couldn’t of course. He had Jacinda. But I was a hurt kid and didn’t think she could replace his son then.”

  “Only he never called.”

  “No, he didn’t. Not once.”

  Elle felt the full weight of Nick’s isolation. It was different than her own, but relatable. Which childhood had been worse? She had no idea. Shunned was shunned, regardl
ess of the reason. “So when you called about the Christmas visit, what did your dad say?”

  “He wasn’t there. Jacinda told me no, and not to ask again. She never wanted to see my face again. I was the reason my mother had left, and if I came back, Jacinda would leave my father, too.”

  “And, of course, her leaving would be your fault.”

  “Yes.”

  “She told you that you weren’t loveable.”

  “She didn’t use those words, but--”

  “She didn’t have to use them. She made herself clear.” Elle tamped down her anger, though she’d like five minutes in a dark alley with Jacinda. What kind of monster did that to a child? “It’s not true.”

  He sighed.

  Didn’t the man he’d become realize that? “It’s really not true, Nick.” Elle covered his hand, squeezed it gently. “You can refuse to look at me all day, but it doesn’t change the facts. Jacinda lied. You’re loveable. And, for the record, I didn’t abandon you.”

  “I just left first,” he said. “But it’s not the same thing. You were a kid.”

  “No, I wasn’t a kid. I’m not sure I’ve ever been a kid. That’s a luxury we all don’t get to enjoy. You didn’t and neither did I. The reasons are different, but the results are the same.“ She paused and dug deep for courage. “And, for the record, I’m not a kid now.”

  Something she couldn’t identify flashed through his eyes, but when he spoke, a sharp edge honed his tone. “Elle, don’t.” He squeezed his eyes closed a second, then reopened them. “Don’t do this, okay? I know you think you have feelings for me, but you don’t. Not really.” He set his cup down on the breakfast bar, sighed, then looked back at her. “I intrigue you. Probably because guys fall all over themselves around you and I don’t. “

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is. I saw it myself in LA.” She started to protest but he held up a staying hand. “It’s just intrigue, not genuine feelings. You and me… We’re different. Really different. We don’t mix.” Before she could say anything, he went on, dropping his voice, making it more gentle. “You’re like sunshine, you know?”

  “Yes, I am. I choose to be even when I don’t feel like it. And you’re like rain.” She smiled. “Together we cover it all and kind of balance each other out. Isn’t that the way it usually works for couples? Ying and yang and opposites attract and all that?”

  “Stop it.” The shields lifted in his eyes. “There is no couple. There is no we.”

  “Of course, there’s a we.” She didn’t laugh. She wanted to but couldn’t. He so didn’t see her for who she was, or have a clue what was in her heart. But the injured boy, the broken man inside him, wouldn’t, would he? “You might not like it. You might not want it. But there is a we, Nick, and I won’t let you deny it. You don’t get to dictate my feelings because you’re afraid I’ll leave you, too. That’s what this is about.”

  “I knew it. I knew I’d regret telling you.” He shook his head. “I don't know why I did it.”

  “Maybe you needed to talk about it.” Oh, she hoped the reason was more than that, but she didn’t risk believing it.

  “I’ve never needed to talk about it. Who wants to even think about it?”

  He had a point. “I know. Same here on my parents.” So he’d never spoken of his past with anyone until now. Interesting. Neither had she. “I’m glad you did. I’m glad I told you, too.”

  He stilled. “You haven’t told anyone else?”

  “Never.” She thumbed the rim of her coffee cup. “But it’s been good. It helps me understand you better and me better. I like that.”

  “Don’t even try to understand me,” he told her. “Nora was right. I’m broken. I’ve been broken my whole life.”

  “You don’t have to stay broken.”

  “I do.” He let the shields in eyes fall for a moment. “It’s all I know. It’s all I’ve got.”

  “No, it isn’t. Maybe it was at one time, but not now.” She lifted a hand. “Now you have partners and friends, the people here and in the village. You have Nora and…and, for what it’s worth, you have me.”

  His gaze snapped back to hers. “No.”

  “Afraid so.” She gave him a trembling smile. “You’ve always had me, Nick.”

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  “Why is that absurd? Are you insulting me again? Trying to tell me you know my mind better than I do?”

  “No. It’s absurd because you don’t even know me.”

  “You’d be amazed how well I know you, and how much we have in common.”

  “Don’t do this, Elle. You’ve got everything. Me… I’ve got a cobbled together life that works better for me than my life ever has worked for me. It’s not much to someone like you, but it’s everything to me.”

  She pushed at her cup. “Why are you so sure me caring about you will destroy what you’ve got? I just might make your life better, you know? Given a chance, I’m sure I could.”

  He stared at her, his eyes full of hunger and longing and fear. “You don’t want me. No one ever has. It’s the idea of me, some fantasy you’ve spun like one of your songs that you want, and it doesn’t exist.”

  “That’s not only unfair, it’s untrue.”

  “It has to be true.”

  “Why?”

  He stared at her, silent and tense.

  “I asked why it has to be true, Nick. It’s a fair question.”

  “How could it possibly be anything else? Nothing else is rational.”

  The man had no idea of his appeal. Not the first clue. “It can be and is true. I hate to break it to you but rational or not, my thoughts and opinions are mine. You don’t get to dictate or legislate them.” Since when were feelings rational?

  “I’m not trying to dictate or legislate anything. I’d never do that. I just…” He took the heat out of his voice. “I know how it would end, Elle.”

  “You think you know and you’re afraid.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “Yes, of course. But, honestly, more than anything, I’m amused. Not only do you not see the man I see in you, you don’t see the woman I am, standing before you. You think I’m not scared?”

  “Why would you be scared?”

  She laughed, that tinkling chime that grated on his last frayed nerve. “Why not?”

  “I told you, I’m the one broken.”

  “So am I,” Elle said. “That’s what’s amusing. We’re all broken, Nick. No one escapes childhood unscathed.” She covered his hand with hers on the edge of the bar. “It’s not that we don’t break. It’s that we live and heal in spite of those breaks. The breaks don’t define us—everybody’s got them—it’s what we do in spite of them that defines us.”

  He sat back against his seat and stared at her. “That’s—“

  “Nick. Joe,” Sam called out. “Me and Lizzie need a little help over here. Can you guys come and tell us what you think?”

  “And there it is. “ Nick slid off the stool. “The summons.”

  “Does that include me?” Elle asked Sam.

  He looked to Lizzie, who nodded. “Yes.”

  “You sure about me, Lizzie?” Nick asked.

  Again, she nodded. “I ain’t scared of you anymore, and Sam says you’re real smart.” Lizzie motioned with a flailing arm. “Come on, Nick.”

  He didn’t smile, Elle noticed, but for the first time in a long time, he looked as if he wanted to smile.

  That small gesture of her deliberately including him gave Elle hope. Nick needed to belong. He needed to know he mattered. She could show him he he mattered to her because he did. And she would show him… if when she told him what she had to tell him, he didn’t ban her from his life for good.

  Unfortunately, that could go either way.

  Chapter Eight

  Sunday, June 7th, 9:30 a.m.

  The Lodge

  Still rattled from his talk at the bar with Elle, Nick joined the group. They discussed Lizzie’s issue and h
er fear for her mother. Sam, whose stomach growled, sped up the process by briefing Nick, Joe, and Elle while Lizzie sat woodenly, watching them, gauging their reactions. The poor kid looked as tense as a cracker about to snap.

  Nick hated that, but he still stood by his decision to proceed so that she came to trust them on her own. Kids need to know for themselves who they can and can’t trust.

  No one held more proof of that than he and maybe Elle. He knew there were issues, especially between her and her mother, but he hadn’t known how deeply they’d impacted Elle. Her resentment of her mother oozed from Elle’s pores. Her resentment of Jacinda had run just as deep.

  He hated loving that more than her laughter.

  But she had a point about his father. Maybe he’d do a little digging and see what turned up.

  During the discussion, Elle seemed altogether too nervous. She knew what they were doing, and unless he was one-eighty out—and he rarely was one-eighty out on anything—she also knew they had overheard the original conversation upstairs between her and Lizzie. She should have deduced by now they were going to help the child and her mother—her instincts had been on target about that—so why was Elle beyond on edge? Her hands weren’t steady and, from her shoulders’ rapid rise and fall, her breathing was fast, and her eye movements darted. None were good signs. She’d seemed more at ease when they’d been airing their family’s forbidden dirty laundry at the bar. More confident and comfortable. That was the worst sign.

  Whatever she was holding back was worse than the family secrets. She seemed as afraid as Lizzie, and Nick didn’t like seeing her like that anymore than he liked seeing Lizzie upset. What he didn’t understand was why Elle was upset? What could she be hiding that was so bad she feared it?

  Yes, she’d been through a lot in a short period of time, but she’d been fine. In true Elle fashion, she’d rolled with the punches and accepted what was in front of her. At least she had until the conversation about Lizzie’s mom had started between her and Lizzie. On the monitor, he’d seen Elle react, stiffen and fight to hide shock. Now, in the group discussion, she looked a blink from tears, and that surprised him as much as her attempts to convince him he was loveable. Absurd woman.