Gansett Island Boxed Set, Books 1-16

by Force, Marie

  “I love you, too.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Protect yourself in there, Tiffany. Don’t let him say or do anything to harm you. I mean it.”

  “He’ll be on his best behavior with the prosecutor in there, and I’ll be fine because I know you’re right outside the door, watching out for me.” With her hand on his neck, she brought him down for a kiss. “Let me get this over with so we can get on with our lives, okay?”

  Nodding, he returned her kiss and let her go with what seemed to be tremendous reluctance.

  She smiled reassuringly at him and left him in the observation area. Outside the door to the conference room, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever might happen. Jim meant nothing to her. Not anymore. But he was and would always be Ashleigh’s father, and there was nothing Tiffany wouldn’t do for her little girl, including face off with the man who’d disappointed her so profoundly.

  Tiffany had taken care with her appearance, and the effort paid off in the wistful way in which Jim studied her as she walked into the room and sat next to Sam, across the table from Jim and his attorney. Jim wore a light blue dress shirt, and unlike the last time she’d seen him, he was well groomed, the way he’d always been before he went off the rails.

  Tiffany folded her hands and made sure her diamond engagement and wedding rings from Blaine were prominently displayed.

  “You asked for this meeting,” Jim said in the snide tone she’d become accustomed to from him in the last few years of their marriage. “What do you want?”

  “I would like for you to consider accepting a plea to spare your daughter the humiliation of a trial.”

  He snorted. “She’s four. What does she know about humiliation?”

  “She’ll be five soon and going to school with other kids whose parents will be talking about how, in a drunken stupor, you pulled a knife at an engagement party and assaulted Dan. Is that what you want your daughter to be confronted with on the playground in kindergarten?”

  To his credit, Jim had the good sense to seem chagrined. “No, that’s not what I want.”

  “Take the plea, Jim. Spare her the embarrassment and ridicule of having your sins thrown in her face. We live in a very small town. This will stick to her forever as it is. Why make it worse than it already is?”

  “What about your sins? Will those stick to her, too?”

  Tiffany stared at him, determined to remain calm and not take the bait. “I’ve never committed a felony or been intoxicated in public.”

  “No, you just sell dildos for a living.”

  “Jim,” his attorney said, the warning clear.

  “Which is perfectly legal,” she said, remaining calm.

  The two of them stared at each other across the table, and in that uncomfortable silence, Tiffany made a decision. “Could we have a minute alone, please?” she asked the lawyers.

  “Umm, that wasn’t the plan,” Rhodes said.

  “I need one minute,” she said.

  Jim nodded to his attorney, who got up and left the room with the prosecutor.

  Tiffany knew that Blaine would be furious, so she spoke quickly. “I’d like to ask you one more time to tell me what it was that I did so wrong that led to all this. And I want to be clear that I’m asking for Ashleigh’s sake. Someday my daughter is going to ask me what happened between Mommy and Daddy, and I’d like to be able to tell her, because I don’t have the first clue.”

  Jim stared mulishly across the table, his jaw set in the stubborn expression she knew all too well.

  “I was a good wife to you, Jim. I worked two jobs to put you through law school. I took care of everything so all you had to do was study. When we moved home to Gansett, I ran two businesses while keeping our home and taking care of the beautiful daughter I gave you. I’d really like to be able to tell Ashleigh something other than I don’t know, not if she asks, but when she does.”

  He was quiet for so long that she didn’t think he was going to answer her.

  Tiffany was about to give up on him when he finally said, “It wasn’t anything you did.”

  “Then what was it?”

  “It was me,” he said with a sigh. “I was dissatisfied with everything once we got back to Gansett. I don’t know why, but things changed for me after we moved home. It was… a letdown to be back there where nothing ever changes.”

  Tiffany stared at him, her mouth agape. “So you threw away your marriage and family and the career we’d both worked so hard to give you because you were bored?”

  “Not bored so much as disappointed. I kept asking myself, is this it? For the rest of my life? This is all there is?”

  Wondering if she’d ever known him at all, she sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “You’re a fool.”

  His eyes flashed with emotion. “Do you think I need you to tell me that? I’ve had nothing but time to think about the many ways I fucked everything up.”

  “So you get now that it was you who fucked it all up? Not me or Dan or anyone else. It was you, Jim.”

  “I get it,” he said on a low growl.

  Hearing him take responsibility for the mess he’d made was, she realized, the best outcome she could’ve hoped for. “You took everything we had when you left. Why did you do that?”

  “I was so angry.”

  “At me?”

  “At you, at myself.”

  “I did everything I could and more than I probably should have to keep our family together. I deserved better than to be treated that way, Jim, and so did Ashleigh.” After a long pause, she said, “Take the plea and make it go away for all of us. Do the right thing for once.” She got up and headed for the door.

  “Tiffany.”

  Stopping, she took another breath and turned around. “What?”

  “I love Ashleigh. She’s the most important person in the world to me. I want to be better for her so I can be part of her life.”

  “I want that for her, too.” With nothing left to say, Tiffany exited the room and ran smack into her husband, who’d been standing right outside the door. She curled her hands around his arm. To Sam Rhodes, she said, “I did what I could.”

  “Appreciate you coming in. We’ll be in touch.”

  “Let’s go,” she said to Blaine, desperately wanting to avoid an altercation between her current and former husbands. Judging by the tightness in Blaine’s muscles, it wouldn’t take much to provoke him. She gave his arm a tug to get him moving in the right direction but didn’t breathe easy until they were in the parking lot on the way to his truck.

  Blaine opened the door for her and held it until long after she was settled in her seat.

  “Blaine.”

  His gaze shifted to her.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I… When you were alone with him… All I could think about was him swinging that knife at you, and I…”

  Tiffany turned in her seat and wrapped her arms around him.

  He buried his face in the curve of her neck.

  When she realized her strong, fearless husband was actually trembling, her eyes filled with tears that slid down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry you were scared.”

  “I was afraid he’d try to hurt you, and there’d be no one in there with you.”

  “I’m okay, and it’s all over now.” She ran her fingers through his hair for a long time, until the trembling finally stopped.

  He raised his head off her shoulder and kissed away her tears. “Is he going to take the plea?”

  “I don’t know, but I got some badly needed answers. At least I know now that what happened had nothing to do with me. He was dissatisfied with his life, if you can imagine that.”

  “No, I can’t, because I get to be married to you, and I’ll never be dissatisfied a day in my life because I have you.”

  “I’m so happy to be married to you. I’d go through hell all over again if it meant I got you in the end.” Holding his face in her hands, she kissed him.

  He responded with
the pent-up emotion that followed weeks of tension, until they were half reclined in the front seat of his truck.

  Tiffany laughed at their loss of control.

  Blaine leaned his forehead on hers. “I love you so fucking much. I never knew it was possible to love anyone the way I love you.”

  “I love you just as much.”

  Tiffany’s cell phone rang, and she saw Sam Rhodes’s name on the caller ID.

  “He’s agreed to plead guilty to a misdemeanor assault charge and serve six months in jail, but he’ll retain his law license, which was critical to him.”

  “Thank goodness.” She flashed a thumbs-up to Blaine. “Thank you so much for letting me know.”

  “Thank you for convincing him it was the right thing to do.”

  She said good-bye to Sam and hugged Blaine. “Thank God it’s over.”

  “Let’s go home,” Blaine said.

  “Yes, please.”

  Chapter 26

  Mallory arrived home shortly before five and dug her ringing cell phone out of her purse. She didn’t recognize the local number but still took the call.

  “Hey, Mallory, it’s Sydney Harris. How are you?”

  “Hi, Syd. What’s up?”

  “I got your number from Janey. I wanted to let you know that Luke and I are doing a bonfire on the beach tonight if you’d like to join us.”

  “I’d love to. Thanks for the invite.”

  “Great. Plan on dinner, too. Luke built a grill on the beach this spring, and he’s been dying to use it.”

  “That sounds great. What can I bring?”

  “Not a thing other than a friend, if you wish to.”

  Mallory laughed. “Is that a subtle attempt to get me to admit to dating someone?”

  “I might have heard a rumor. Or two.”

  “I’ll see if he’s available to join us.”

  “I’ll look forward to seeing you both.”

  “Thanks again, Syd.”

  Mallory ended the call, feeling excited to see Quinn, to tell him her news, to invite him to come tonight and to be her plus one at Dan and Kara’s wedding. Kara had told her it was casual and to bring someone if she wanted to.

  Her talk with Kevin had really helped to clarify things, and she was ready to dive in headfirst with Quinn as well as her new life on Gansett. She took a shower, dried her hair and changed into jeans and a T-shirt, but grabbed a sweater that she knew she’d need when the sun went down. Even in early June, the nights on Gansett were still chilly.

  As she waited for Quinn, it occurred to her that she’d like to have a glass of wine. There were times, such as this, when she was in a happy mood and looking forward to socializing with friends and family, that she wished she could have an occasional glass of wine. If only it were that simple. But she’d learned her issues with alcohol were anything but simple and that it was in her best interest to refrain from drinking.

  She told herself she had so many things in her life to be thankful for these days that she didn’t need the comfort she’d once taken from overindulging. Now she could find comfort in the new relationships she was forging with her family members as well as Quinn, and the new friends she was making on the island.

  However, all the positive thoughts in the world didn’t quench her desire for that glass of wine. The decision not to drink, not to give in to the almighty temptation, was a daily decision she made for herself. And like most days over the last decade, today she chose her sobriety over the temptation.

  She checked the time and saw it was nearly six, which was late for Quinn to get home, so she sent him a text:

  On the way home?

  As soon as she sent it, she worried that maybe she sounded too much like a wife rather than a girlfriend or whatever she was to him.

  Mallory kept an eye on her phone for a few minutes, but he didn’t reply. She fed Brutus and let him out into the yard.

  An hour later, she’d begun to worry that something had happened to him, so she called him.

  No answer.

  What if something had happened at work and no one was there to help him? Her stomach began to ache as a host of unsettling scenarios occurred to her.

  A couple of days ago, Jared had texted both of them to invite them to dinner. Mallory hadn’t asked how he’d gotten her number. She assumed Quinn had given it to his brother. Now that she needed it, she was happy to have Jared’s number.

  He answered on the second ring.

  “Jared, hi, it’s Mallory. I’m just wondering if you’ve spoken to Quinn.”

  “Not since this morning. Is everything okay?”

  “I’m sure it is, but he’s usually back to my house by now, and I can’t reach him. I thought he might be with you.”

  “No, he isn’t.”

  “Maybe I should go to his office…”

  “I’ll do it. It’s dark as hell and deserted this time of day. I wouldn’t want you out there by yourself.”

  “I hate to bother you.”

  “It’s no bother. I’ll call you in a few.”

  “Thanks, Jared.”

  Mallory took the phone with her to the sofa, where she sat to wait. Brutus curled up next to her, his head on her leg so she could scratch behind his ears. With every passing minute that went by with no word from Quinn, her anxiety quadrupled.

  Darkness surrounded him. Where the hell was he? And why did his head hurt like a motherfucker?

  Quinn reached up to touch the area on his forehead that radiated pain and encountered wetness. “Shit.” He tried to sit up and immediately regretted it when his head spun and nausea burned his throat. “Ugh.”

  Then he realized his bad leg was at an awkward angle and the prosthetic had been wrenched—again.

  He groaned. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The memories came rushing back to him. He’d been about to leave the office when he heard an odd noise coming from the basement. The last thing he remembered was reaching to turn on the light. Had he fallen down the stairs? How long had he been there? And where was his phone?

  A quick inspection of his pockets yielded nothing. And then he heard it ringing and saw it light up about ten feet from him.

  Mallory. Crap, she was probably wondering where he was and worried about him as she tried to find him. Damn it.

  Forcing himself into a sitting position, he brushed away the blood on his face and fought through an urgent need to puke. He had to get to his phone, even if he had to crawl to it.

  Closing his eyes, he took deep breaths to fight back the nausea and inched himself forward, hissing from the pain that came from his head and leg. Just when he’d been on his way back to what now counted for normal, this had to happen. Despair swept over him, reminding him of the awful days after he’d first lost his leg.

  Quinn moved slowly and painfully, his head swimming and his leg throbbing. He was about halfway to the phone when he heard Jared shout for him from upstairs.

  “Down here,” he said, relieved to have help.

  “Quinn!”

  “Basement,” he called.

  “What the… Oh my God!”

  A sudden flood of light had Quinn closing his eyes tight against the pain.

  Jared came pounding down the stairs. “Jesus, Quinn. You’re bleeding like crazy. Are you okay? What happened? Oh shit! Your leg.”

  “Shhh, not so loud.”

  “Crap. You’re hurt bad.” Jared withdrew his phone from his pocket and called for the rescue.

  Quinn was in too much pain to object.

  “What were you doing?”

  “I heard a noise coming from down here and decided to investigate. That’s the last thing I remember before I woke up down here.”

  “Mallory’s worried. I’m going to tell her to meet us at the clinic.”

  Mallory. Quinn sighed. She deserved better than this, better than him. She’d spent her entire adult life taking care of people. She needed someone who could take care of her, not a broken-down wreck of a man who needed constant care from her. The thoug
ht of not seeing her gorgeous face every day crushed him, but he needed to be fair to her.

  Jared encouraged Quinn to lean against him while they waited. “How did this happen?”

  “Not sure. I reached for the lights and came to down here. Must’ve made a wrong move somewhere.”

  “You could’ve been killed.”

  “That might’ve been better than dealing with this shit.”

  “Shut the fuck up. That wouldn’t have been better. It was an accident. Could’ve happened to anyone.”

  Jared was trying to make him feel better, but what he said wasn’t true. It wouldn’t have happened to someone with two good legs who could instinctively tell that the next step was going to be a bad one.

  Quinn didn’t have the energy or the fortitude to argue the point.

  “Should I check this noise you heard?” Jared asked.

  “I don’t hear it now.”

  “I’ll check it out in the morning.”

  Paramedics arrived a few minutes later, along with Mason Johns, the fire chief. He was the kind of guy Mallory should be with—big, strong, commanding and in possession of all his limbs.

  “What’re we looking at here?” Mason asked him.

  He appreciated Mason’s acknowledgment that Quinn already knew what was wrong. “Probably a severe concussion in addition to the laceration on my forehead, and I wrenched my leg.”

  Mason glanced toward his leg, and Quinn saw the realization register with him.

  “You’re an amputee.”

  “I am.”

  Mason directed his team to carefully carry Quinn up the stairs, where they had a stretcher waiting.

  Jared followed them, carrying the prosthetic that Quinn had removed.

  Quinn wanted to grab the thing out of his brother’s hands and fling it across the room. He vibrated with rage and despair. Every step forward led to two steps backward. Just when he thought things were moving in the right direction—new job, new home, new lady—he was served a heaping dose of reality, reminding him once again of what’d been lost.

  “I’m going to follow so I have my car,” Jared said as they loaded Quinn into the ambulance. Quinn raised a hand to let his brother know he’d heard him.

  At least he could be thankful for the small favor that Mallory was off duty when her coworkers had to rescue him.