Rescued by Love

by Jules Dixon

  The skin between my eyes crinkled into a deep scowl. “Aurora, why can’t you let me kiss you the way I want to?”

  She smiled, so I took the moment to surprise her by brushing my lips across hers, enjoying the softness I remembered from that frantic and fantastic kiss at Jude and Presley’s wedding. I adjusted her head in my hand and pressed firmly against her mouth. We both sighed as the connection felt so perfect that if the world ceased to exist, I would die a happy man.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Rory reared back and her eyes flashed to the driver’s window. “Police,” she said with a giggle.

  “Folks, can you please step from the vehicle?”

  “That’s unfortunate timing,” she mumbled.

  “Of course, Officer.” I opened the passenger door and helped her out first, directing her along the snow-packed road shoulder with my hands at her waist. I slowed her gait and whispered, “Just stay calm.”

  “I’m calm,” she snipped as we stepped to the rear of the vehicle.

  She was right, she was. I was the one with the arrest record for a stupid move back in the fall and I needed to stay out of trouble. I remember being in county jail. That place smelled like a locker room from my baseball days, but the cold icy feeling it gave off was worse than the smell. I’d never go back. I’d promised myself that.

  “Folks, we had a report of a disabled vehicle blocking traffic. Can I assume this brand-new vehicle is in working order and your need to stop along a busy road and cause a road hazard was unneeded?”

  “Yes, Officer,” Rory answered. “Sorry.”

  “I should give you a ticket for blocking traffic. But I’ll give you a warning and ask that you move on.”

  “Thank you,” we said in unison.

  His eyes glared as his jaw set hard. “And young man, maybe a nice Valentine’s Day dinner would be a more appropriate way to show her how much you care, instead of an impromptu rendezvous along the side of a road? I’m off that day, so I don’t care if you do a repeat performance. Do you understand me?”

  I nodded.

  Valentine’s Day … ridiculous, made-up, greeting-card-hell holiday.

  He turned and walked back to his vehicle.

  “I’ll drive,” I offered, moving past Rory to the driver’s side.

  She followed on my heels. “No. I said I’ll drive, so I’ll drive.”

  I turned. We didn’t need to be arguing in front of the officer and get “disturbing the peace” or worse. “Rory, passenger seat. Now!”

  “We’ll see who’s actually in the driver’s seat.” She spun in her boots. I waited for the police officer’s car to pass me. The passenger door slammed and I shook my head.

  She had her phone out and was talking when I slipped into the driver’s seat.

  “Hi, Dad. No, we’re great. I needed to get over some lingering nerves. Drexel wanted to make sure I was feeling really comfortable in the vehicle. You should pay him more money for the amount of special attention he’s been giving me. He’s really a hands-on kind of worker.”

  Mr. Jessen may not have recognized her innuendo and emphasized words, but I did. Realistically, after catching me in Rory’s hospital room and how he was eagle-eyeing me today, he knew something was going on between her and me. But hell, since I didn’t even know what was actually going on between us or if there could be, how could he?

  She smiled at me. “Oh, yes, he’s made me feel very satisfied … with my vehicle choice.”

  “Stop it,” I muttered under my breath, merging the SUV onto the busy two-lane highway and making my way back to the dealership.

  “We’re on our way back now. Okay, see you in a few.” She shoved her phone back into her purse.

  “That wasn’t funny, Rory.”

  “What?” She drew lip-gloss from her purse and applied it using the mirror in her visor, only making her lips more inviting, and my crotch zipped with excitement.

  “You know what.”

  “The only thing I regret is that I lied to him,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “Being satisfied.”

  “If we weren’t expected back at the dealership, I’d take you back to my house and you’d learn what satisfied really feels like.”

  “Actions speak louder than words, Mason. And since your third leg really wasn’t doing or saying much of anything, I guess I’ll just have to satisfy myself at home.”

  “What the hell?” I glanced to her and she ran her tongue on the outside of her lips. I scanned back to the road and had to slam on the brakes as the car in front of me decided to make a last-minute turn into a shopping center. “Shit!” My hand shot out to stop her from moving forward.

  She let out a long whimper as she clutched onto my forearm. Even through my wool coat, I could feel her nails digging into my muscle. The brakes stopped us in time.

  When we were safely on the road again, I inhaled a calming breath and dropped my arm. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fucking fine.”

  Fucking fine … great…

  I stayed quiet for the rest of the ride while she messed with the radio, and although it irritated me, she needed to feel some control. When she landed on a song I liked and she left the satellite radio there, we both smiled.

  Back at the dealership, she jumped from the vehicle and darted into the building as if a knife-wielding horror story villain was chasing her. This is it. So long, job, been nice knowing you. I punched the steering wheel a couple of times and the horn honked while a couple was walking by the vehicle.

  Just great.

  “Sorry.” I held up my hands and they made their way past, shaking their heads.

  I walked into the dealership and she was in General Manager Charlie’s office, her hands on her hips, and occasionally a hand would flail through the air in emphasis of something she said. She pointed out of the office. Mr. Jessen stalked toward me with Rory on his heels.

  Shit.

  “Really, Dad, Drexel did a wonderful job of teaching me how to remain in control in the vehicle. He really deserves kudos for his refined techniques, talents, and skills.” She turned to me and batted her eyes. “Thank you for everything, Drexel.”

  What the hell?

  I narrowed mine back at her. “My pleasure, Miss Jessen,” I said without emotion.

  She could be all pleasure … if I’d grow a pair and she’d grow up.

  “Drexel, Rory suggested having you over for dinner Wednesday night as a thank-you.”

  “No need to thank me for doing my job, Mr. Jessen. I just want Rory to be happy with her vehicle choice.”

  “I insist. It will be good for us to have a chance to talk outside the dealership.”

  I swallowed, watching his jawline tense, then he kissed the top of Rory’s head. “Excellent idea, Rory.”

  I tried to think of an excuse. “Mr. Jessen—”

  “Since you were January’s top salesperson, we’ll celebrate by having you over for dinner. Wednesday night at six p.m. We’ll see you there.”

  Since he didn’t phrase it as a question, I didn’t feel like I could decline the offer. “Thank you. I have some paperwork to get to and another client coming in soon. It was nice seeing you, Rory. Glad you’re feeling better.”

  She held out her hand and I grabbed it, squeezing hard enough that she inhaled slightly and squeezed back even harder. Mr. Jessen headed to his office.

  “Thank you for the birthday present. I’ll see you Wednesday night, Mr. Mason.”

  “I look forward to it,”—I stepped close—“Ah-roar-ahhhh.”

  She gasped in my ear and I chuckled. “You’re an ass, Mason.”

  “Guilty, and I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to truly change.” After I said it she grabbed my arm.

  “Anyone can change.” She rose to her tiptoes and kissed my cheek. I froze. “See you later, and again, thanks for the surprise.”

  “You’re welcome,” I whispered and backed away.
/>   Inside my office, Presley Saylor knocked on the door. She’d been the first of several women here in Omaha I wanted to make mine, but it wasn’t meant to be. I was positive she had been in love with Jude before either of them was born. It was slightly nauseating to see how he doted on her. But today I kind of understood why he did it.

  “Hey, how are you today?” she asked.

  “I’ve been better and I’ve been a hell of a lot worse. What’s up?”

  Presley closed the door behind her and sat in a chair on the other side of my desk. “Drexel, you know I love you, right?”

  Weird way to start a conversation.

  “Okay, thanks.” I rocked back in my chair. “What’s going on, Mrs. Perfect?”

  “You told Jude you’d never call me that again.”

  “I lied, sue me. Plus, I changed it to Mrs., so technically, it isn’t the same thing as Miss Perfect.” I threw my pen onto my desk.

  She rolled her eyes, but her attitude changed from playful to serious. When she bit her lip, I saw it coming. “You’re doing more stuff since her accident, aren’t you?”

  Stuff? My need is so repulsive that she can’t even say the name. Coke, cocaine, snow, blow, Big C, pearl, candy cane, white girl, zip, baseball, gutter glitter, wacky dust, nose candy, snoot, Charlie…

  I huffed and stared at last month’s sales achievement on the wall. “Maybe a little, but you’ve been a selling machine lately. I’m putting in long days to keep up or bust your ass. My arm hurts more during the cold. I need the extra focus. And I…” I stopped the rambling by rubbing my face. Leaning forward, I crossed my arms on the desk.

  She reached out and slipped her hand under mine. I examined the connection and I swore I could feel her emotions through her hand. Care. Discomfort. “We all want you around for a long time. You’re part of our family. And since Jude and I are going to add one more to our family in September, I want our child to know their Uncle Drexel.”

  “You’re pregnant?”

  She nodded.

  I stared at her and then the real reason for her visit snaked through her message. “And you don’t want a cokehead around your child. That is the underlying message, right?”

  She sat up straight and pulled her hand to her lap. “I want you to be healthy and happy. That is the real message.”

  My jaw ticked. “I’m fine.” After I said the words the truth hit me hard. If Rory was saying them like I meant them, she wasn’t anywhere near fine.

  “What?” Presley squeezed my hand again. “Drexel, you’re pale. What’s wrong?”

  “I’ll look into NA meetings.”

  “Really?”

  I bit the inside of my lip to try and stop the word from escaping my mouth, the one that would only lead to disappointment. “Promise.”

  “That’s wonderful. If you need help, let me know. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  I’ve done most of my life alone. This journey doesn’t need hand-holding.

  “Are you really pregnant?” I asked.

  “I was pregnant at the wedding.”

  “You told Jude while you were dancing?” I remembered him dropping to his knees and the table quieting.

  Presley nodded and smiled.

  “What a fucking sap.” I winked. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” I truly was. They were caring people and they deserved to be happy.

  Presley released my hand with a quick squeeze. “No one else here knows. We want to be out of the woods with the first trimester before we start sharing the news with everyone. Willow and Kanyon know and so do Sage and Rahl and Jude’s brother. Well, jeez, maybe we should tell everyone.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  “Just please get some help, Drexel.”

  “I will.”

  She stood and I walked her to the door.

  “Mrs. Perfect, you’re going to make a wonderful mother.”

  “Thanks. Jude will be a great father, so I’m not worried. I can’t be any worse than my mother.”

  She left the room and I closed the door behind her. I sat in my chair, turned it away from the door, and blasted the biggest hit I ever had. Stinging pain seared my nasal passages, but as I reclined in the chair, the pain was replaced with nothingness.

  No pain, no feelings, no expectations.

  I waited until my eyes weren’t crossed from the alternate universe euphoria, and did as I told Presley I would. I typed “NA Meetings Omaha” into a search engine and there were three meetings across the city this evening: Seven, seven-thirty, and eight. Oh, the joy of choices.

  I didn’t have the excuse of a late-night shift at the dealership, so I decided to make the first one. After the big hit, I sold two cars before six-thirty p.m. I thought about ditching the meeting, but I’d promised Presley I would give it a try, and I kept my promises. Don’t have to stay, if I don’t like it.

  I walked into the basement of the church and took a seat. No one seemed interested in sharing personal information. I was damn thankful no one I’d ever sold a vehicle to attended the meeting, which was something I hadn’t thought about before stepping foot in the room. Looking around at the nervous action, I figured some of them had similar fears.

  But it was hard to tell what was drug effect versus what was fear.

  Listening to the droning of the meeting leader, I couldn’t see myself as having the problem he described. I still was productive and went to work.

  I did slip in October and November last year, but that was because of a friend’s death. And then again after Rory’s accident, but…

  I still had successful and important relationships.

  Although Presley and my sister did give me ultimatums, but…

  I still made appointments.

  I was late to work several days last month because I overslept from being up all night from a late snort and Presley had to take my morning test-drives.

  But that doesn’t mean I’m addicted.

  When the meeting had finished, my brain felt like a spark away from a guilt flash-fire. I darted from the church to my car and watched three people exit the church, walk to the corner, and stand at the bus stop.

  Keep doing this and I could be the one standing there. I have savings and could live for a year. The money would last a year without the white devil. Four months with it.

  I watched a suited man get into the BMW next to my Mustang. He motioned for me to roll down my window.

  He held up some product. “Need some?”

  “No, thanks.”

  He did a line. “Only go to these stupid meetings so the court will let me see my kids.”

  What the fuck!

  I rolled up my window and roared the Mustang from the parking lot.

  I’m not that guy. I don’t have kids, no plans to have kids. I keep my third leg covered and always will.

  Hitting the freeway, I opened up the 625 horsepower and vowed I would never return to one of those meetings. Promise or no promise, being subjected to that torture was unreasonable.

  I’m fine.

  Chapter Twelve

  Aurora

  Tuesday started off like this year—with absolute frustration and partial nonexistence. I might as well still be in a coma.

  By noon, I’d visited eight preschools and all positions had been filled before the year started. They would “keep my resume on file” which everyone knew was code for “it will be filed and never be seen again.” Plus, one administrator said the large healing laceration on my forehead would scare the kids. That felt great.

  I stopped off at a coffeehouse to reenergize and collect my thoughts.

  Sitting there, my brain spaced out and weird flashbacks from my time at the hospital darted though my mind while I stared into my reflection in the window. While I was in a coma, I’d experienced dreams—more like nightmares—I didn’t understand. When I woke, those dreams shrouded themselves under my subconscious. From what I did remember, my blood chilled at the sense of being smothered.


  Maybe Dad was right. Maybe I should just work at the dealership? I could do billing or front desk. It’s safe and easy.

  The more I tried to search for what was affecting me, the worse my breathing was. And the farther I delved into what was hiding in the recesses of my brain, the more I didn’t want to face reality.

  “Miss, are you okay?” A barista cleaning off a table next to mine broke my daydream.

  “Yeah … I’m fine.” I tore from my daydream to find tears rolling down my face. Whatever was terrorizing my subconscious had found its way out in liquid form and thinking about it had my breathing coming and going in pants.

  Time to work out again. That always helps reset my brain. And it’s been almost four weeks since my last spin class.

  I ignored the nagging sensation of a deeper problem and headed home to do some laundry before making my way to Triple R.

  “Rory!” Jude jumped up from the front desk chair when I walked in. His arms wrapped around me. “Great to see you.”

  “Hi, Jude.” I hadn’t been hugged this much in months. “How are you?”

  He leaned down to my ear. “I’m going to be a dad.”

  “That’s wonderful news! Congratulations.” I hugged him this time.

  “Thank you. Now, Presley doesn’t want to tell a whole bunch of people for another two weeks, until she’s out of her first trimester, but I can’t help it. I’m so excited.”

  “I can tell. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Jude glanced behind me. “Hey, Drex.”

  Craptastic.

  “Hey, Saylor. Hi, Rory.” His brazen cologne seared my nose.

  I started coughing and waving my hand through the air. “Nice cologne.”

  “I remembered it was your favorite, so I wore it today.”

  His eyes glinted the mirrored surfaces of the gym. There was a gray hint of sadness in his eyes that drew me in, but I brushed off the momentary fascination.

  “You didn’t even know you’d see me. I need to get to class.”

  I was torn between two states of human instinct: self-preservation and desire. Each felt like it was packed with shards of glass and barbed wire, waiting to cut through me, but if my accident had shown me anything, it was pain was a part of life. Avoiding it wasn’t healthy. I wondered if having one night of no-strings-attached sex with Drexel would end this feeling and help me realize the only somber shadow in his eyes was probably DNA-induced, not some pain or emotion. I sighed to release some restrained frustration.