“Bess, did you like the necklace? I meant what I wrote in the letter, that we’re different, but together we work.”
His words, breathy in my ear, were exactly what I needed to hear, and all I could do was murmur something unintelligible.
His hands explored further, making their way up toward my tattoo, smoothing over it before heading down to rest on my rib cage, the silent plea for forgiveness in his eyes was not necessary. Finally landing on my butt, his hands pulled me against him so I could feel his reaction to me. And then he stopped.
And I might have whimpered.
Leaning his forehead into mine, he said, “As good as this feels, this isn’t the time for it.”
With a sigh, he reached over and turned on the shower full blast, letting the steam carry throughout the small bathroom before helping me step in.
“Oh, this hot water feels so good,” I said while he stood guard on the other side of the shower curtain.
“I have lots of hot water in Florida. Why don’t you come back with me for a few days?”
I was going with him. I couldn’t believe I’d agreed so quickly, but with my newfound resolve to be there for others and my recent bout with clinginess, I just said yes.
But first, I was going back to Pittsburgh.
For a girl who had little to no travel experience and hadn’t really been back home since college, I was a regular world traveler these days. This trip to Florida would be an entirely new experience for me, though, since Lane chartered a private plane to fly us out of Pittsburgh. Which worked out since Doc refused to give me his blessing to travel commercially, and it meant Brooks could come too.
We took my car to Pittsburgh. We drove toward the sunset, its soft colors fading into the horizon as we made our way out of the country toward the city lights. It was so relaxing, it was hard to believe only twenty-four hours had passed since the incident with AJ.
Lane drove and talked on the phone. One call he made was to his insurance company, who was sending someone to investigate the disappearance of the necklace. Shirley called to say AJ was holed up with a rehab friend, hopefully drying out. We all knew the necklace was probably there too, but Lane thought it was best to let the insurance people do their job. He was happy to leave AJ to the higher powers if it meant we could head out sooner.
On the drive, Lane’s overall tone and demeanor was gentle, but his jaw was tight. I didn’t know what to make of it. He was wrestling with something more than what I’d seen pass over his eyes in the past. The closer we got to town, the tighter his hands gripped the steering wheel.
Watching him from the corner of my eye, I got the impression he would do anything to get the hell out of Pennsylvania; he seemed to truly hate it. His coming to see me several times was apparently a chore he only survived because of me. But why he was so intent on making me happy, on setting my mind at ease, was a mystery to me. Who was I to him, after all?
Well, I couldn’t dwell on it. Instead I accepted whatever part I played in Lane’s life like an alcoholic begs for a cheap forty.
One issue I dug my heels on was that I wasn’t leaving town until I thanked Jake for his help. When Lane was reluctant, but gave in, I learned he was willing to do anything for me to go with him. He wasn’t happy about it, but it was the only way I would agree.
It was our first standoff. I was on the stool in the kitchen, freshly showered and in jeans and a sweater, waiting for Lane to finish making travel arrangements. He’d been on the phone, ordering the plane he took here to be fueled up and ready to roll, when I interrupted him by waving my hand in front of his face.
“Lane,” I said in a low voice, “before all this happened, I made a promise to myself to be a better person to others. I owe your brother a thank-you for all he did for me.”
“Hold on,” he said into the phone before hitting the MUTE button, then looked at me. “Bess, it’s not necessary. He knows.”
“But it is,” I said. “After your letter, I realized how much I tossed on your plate, and now there’s all this. I need to pay it back and forward.”
We glared at each other, neither of us giving in until I whispered, “Please.”
Lane didn’t say another word to me. He pressed the MUTE button before putting the phone back to his ear. “Yeah, we’re going to fly late. After dinner.” Then he texted his brother and made arrangements to meet him for a quick coffee before we left.
Now we were barreling through the tunnel making our way into the city, the Cathedral of Learning on University of Pittsburgh’s campus coming into view.
Lane reached over and took my hand. “You doing okay?” he asked, his jaw only slightly more relaxed as he touched me, seeming to get himself in check.
“Uh-huh. Thanks for doing this for me.”
He nodded and brought my hand up to his mouth, placing a chaste kiss on the inside of my wrist.
“Seriously,” I said as I squeezed his fingers. “I know you didn’t want to. It means a lot to me.”
He took his eyes from the road for a second to meet my eyes. “Well, you’re right. I don’t feel like sharing you any more than I have to, so we’re going to meet Jake at a coffee shop by his new gym location. He owns a fitness club, by the way, and he’s interviewing some marketing girl there. And then we’re hightailing it back to my place.”
This time he gave me a genuine smile. His unruly hair fell over his eyes, begging me to brush it back, which I did. Then I dropped my hand to his shoulder, stroking the muscles there, unable to resist running my palm lower over his firm chest, looking so broad and delicious in his cashmere sweater. The whole look was doing something for me, and it quickly took my mind off the word “gym.” The last time I’d been in a gym hadn’t ended well for me, and I tried not to think about it.
“Okay, sounds like a plan,” I said, still distracted.
Bridges and tall elm trees whizzed by as I lost myself in memories. Childhood reminiscences of growing up in Carnegie—a nearby tiny hole-in-the-wall town full of factories—came flooding back, as well as recollections from my college days in the big city.
We pulled into a parking lot in a suburb south of Pittsburgh, a wealthy one close to where I grew up. The residents all used to bring their cars to my dad for repair.
My dad. I hadn’t thought about him until this moment. I felt a little twinge of guilt at what an afterthought he’d become to me, but for close to two decades, that was what I was to him. I should have called him to let him know what happened to me. Or made a plan to see him now that I was so close.
Next time.
“Will Brooks be okay in the car?” Lane asked as we got out. “With the windows down?”
“Sure. Let me give him a chance to pee first, though,” I said while opening the back hatch and letting Brooks out.
“You have to leash him here,” Lane reminded me.
After glancing around at the perfectly manicured streetscape with expensive cars and bistros lining both sides of the sidewalk, I nodded and grabbed the red leather leash from the back of the car.
I walked slowly down the block, taking in my surroundings as my dog stretched his legs and sniffed at everything in sight. This neighborhood was different from what I was used to, neither the country quiet like where I lived now, nor the sheer madness of South Beach where Lane resided. It was a place where people laid down roots, where they built lives and families. It occurred to me that in a way, both Lane and I had set ourselves up in places that weren’t really conducive to family life.
Lane waited for me by the car, a small smile on his face as Brooks and I made our way back to him. After Brooks was settled in the backseat again, Lane handed me my keys and then took my hand. “Ready?”
I shoved my keys in my pocket and said cheerfully, “Yep!”
As we left the parking lot and turned onto the sidewalk, he frowned. “I just want to warn you,” he said in a tight voice, “my brother can be a bit wild. He and I haven’t always seen eye to eye because of it.” He glanced a
way as he added, “That’s why I don’t mention him much.”
After absorbing Lane’s words for a moment, I said carefully, “Well, he did come to see me as soon as you called, so he can’t be that bad.”
“He owed me a favor. Actually, he owes me a lifetime of them.”
We walked the other direction toward a small coffee shop. It was both quaint and upscale, its facade framed in mahogany, and the smell of fresh roasted beans wafted all the way outside.
As we entered the store, small brass bells chimed above the door. “What about your folks?” I asked. “Do they live here?”
“They’re not around anymore.” Lane waved to his brother, who was seated facing us in the back, finishing his interview.
I mentally scolded myself for only asking about their parents. A girl who knew more about families would know to ask. And by Lane’s response, I could tell there was more to their family’s story than what he was telling me.
And I was distracted by why he never mentioned it when he said, “Let’s set our stuff down and then I’ll grab us some drinks, okay?”
“Sure.”
As we headed toward Jake’s table, my thoughts were still consumed with Lane’s parents. Were they blue collar or business people? Loving and doting or emotionally distant? I wanted to know all about them, curious about what I missed growing up and what he must have had.
Then everything started to spin for the second time in two days.
Jake stood to say hello and I opened my mouth to thank him for meeting with us, but I froze in place, adjusting to the sight of the twins next to each other. They were so alike and so opposite, a mass of contractions, that it took my breath away. Lane and his calm personality and wild hair, and Jake the opposite, his hair short and neat, but his personality chaotic. At least, according to Lane.
Then the young woman stood and said, “Holy shit!” Lustrous curls framed her full face, setting off her brown eyes, now wide and staring with surprise at me.
“Bess? Bess? It’s you!” she said, grabbing me and pulling me into a bear hug.
Jake shook his head and rolled his eyes while Lane grabbed his forehead, appearing to be in pain.
“Camper?” I said, stiffening in the girl’s arms before pulling away. Concerned about Lane, I turned to him and asked, “Are you okay?”
How many times am I going to say that today?
But he didn’t look right. He was pale, his eyes were a stormy dark gray, and his brow was pinched in distress.
“Bess! I can’t believe it!” Camper exclaimed. She was like a broken record, repeating my name, so excited to see me that she was oblivious to my discomfort.
“Wait!” she said, waving her hand between Lane and me. “Have you stayed in touch all this time?”
“Huh?” I asked.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Lane shaking his head, his eyes wide as he stared at Camper.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Do you know each other?” My attention pinged back and forth between the three of them like I was watching a game of doubles tennis and I was the fourth. But I’d never played tennis before.
“Well, yeah, Bess. This guy,” she said, pointing at Lane, “was the person who helped when you collapsed in yoga years ago. Don’t you remember him helping you out to the bench? God, you fell right on top of him.”
My mouth dropped open as I tried to make sense of it all, while Camper went on like she always did.
“When I showed up here for the interview,” she said, “I thought it was Lane sitting there, and then he introduced himself as Jake. Now that I think about it, you got an odd look on your face when I asked if you had any brothers who went to Pitt.” Her voice trailed off as she glanced at Jake.
Lane was now white as a ghost, his dark hair falling down his forehead from him pulling on it. His normally vibrant eyes looked flat as he stared at the black-and-white checkerboard floor.
“I didn’t want to mention that night,” Camper went on, still looking at Jake, “in case you had no idea what happened, or didn’t have a brother, or I was just totally wrong. I’d hate to not get this job.”
While Lane glared at Jake, and Jake smirked back at him, Camper grabbed me in another bear hug.
“What happened to you, B? I missed you. You went to rehab, they wouldn’t let me visit, and then you disappeared. No Facebook or Instagram, nothing. I’ve been hoping to find you for years.”
Stunned and confused, I hadn’t said a single word since asking Lane if he was okay. I wasn’t even sure if I was still breathing.
All eyes turned to me, waiting for my answer.
“You were there?” I choked out as I stared at Lane, my voice so tight it was unrecognizable. “You knew?”
He nodded.
A little light-headed, I placed my palms on the table, hanging my head for a moment as the chill traveled all the way through my spine while I tried to collect myself. My heart was already ice cold.
Nobody moved as I took a few deep breaths, then stood up and turned to Jake. “And you knew when you showed up at my place yesterday?”
He nodded, giving me a little smile as he said, “Not right away, but I figured it out while waiting for you to come to. It’s okay, I didn’t judge you back then.”
“No, it’s not okay,” I said through clenched teeth as my emotions spun out of control. “I left that whole life behind me. The coked-out college girl with the party boots is my past, a past I wanted to forget. I work hard every day to move forward, to leave it behind, and I don’t share it with anyone.” Turning to Lane, I shrieked, “And you knew? You knew when I told you I was in recovery? You knew when I didn’t order a drink? You knew!” Turning on my heel, I stormed out of the coffee shop and ran down the sidewalk, headed to my car.
“Bess! Wait!” Camper yelled after me. “Hold up!”
She caught up with me and bundled me tightly in her arms, where I cried for what felt like hours, not caring who saw me. She rocked me gently from side to side, her voice low as she said, “I’m sorry, Bess. I never really understood how bad you were. I let you down as a friend. You’re so beautiful and perfect, you didn’t deserve that.” Pressing her cheek against my hair, she sighed as she rubbed one hand in soothing circles on my back, trying to calm me down.
“I need to get out of here,” I said, and my heart sank as I realized that Lane didn’t come after me. Hiccupping, I pointed at the parking lot across the street. “That’s my car.”
“Let me come with you,” Camper said as we crossed the street, her tone brooking no argument.
“I live ninety minutes away near Ligonier, that’s crazy,” I said, but by that time Camper was already standing at my car door, ignoring Brooks’s excited barking as she held her hand out for the keys.
Lane
“How could you just stand there like that?” I yelled at Jake. “You’re an even bigger asshole than I thought!” Furious, I hit him in the chest, but since he was as fit as I was, he absorbed it with barely a flinch.
I was no longer the well-dressed, well-educated, well-mannered brother. Unraveling by the second, my emotions were a ball of yarn undone, a bunch of string sitting in a big, twisted, mixed-up heap on the floor.
Fuck that; I was a bull pawing at the dirt, about to charge. Standing there in the middle of a civilized coffee shop, I was losing it like a little girl with a foul mouth.
“Jake! Fucking look at me,” I shouted as my hair flopped into my eyes. “You! You’ve got the nerve to say you didn’t judge her? I’ve never once asked you to do anything for me when it comes to women. You had to know this one—the one I sent you to check on in the middle of the wilderness—meant something to me. And you can’t say something that would help me? No, you fucking made it worse!”
“Lane, get a hold of yourself,” my brother said, putting his hands on my shoulders, trying to calm me.
I pushed his meaty hands out of the way with my own. Mine might have been smooth, unlike his rough ones, but they were the same si
ze. A reminder that we were from the same DNA, so how could we be so very different?
“I will not get a hold of myself,” I hissed. “I’ve had a hold of myself for too damn long! Did you know that chick too? Did you know she knew Bess? Was this a fucking setup?”
“No! She looked at me kind of strange and asked if I had a brother, and I thought maybe you or I slept with her, but never this. Never.” He tried to get me to sit, trying to push me toward a seat.
Fuck him.
“Listen, Lane,” he said in a low voice. “You’re sounding crazy. And you’re letting her get away.” He pointed toward the front door.
“Don’t you fucking tell me I’m crazy. You and I both know what you owe me. Everything, Jake. Everything! So, give me a break and don’t tell me what to do or who is walking away. We were never meant to be, Bess and me. Let it fucking go!”
I didn’t have a chance to hear what my pain-in-the-ass brother said next because the manager came over and politely told us to take our disagreement elsewhere.
Since I was in a dense fog, Jake guided me out the back door to the alley that led to his gym. Unable to think straight, my brain was clouded with images of Bess—coming down the escalator in Florida, wading nude in my pool, and resting on her couch with her feet in my lap.
When my brain fog cleared a moment later, it occurred to me that I didn’t have a car, had no way to escape. I had nothing, not even my self-respect.
“Fuck!” I roared to no one, my voice bouncing off the brick walls, swallowing me up. I was pathetic, nothing but a shell of a man, broken beyond repair.
When they wheeled Bess out of Jake’s gym years ago, it was my chance for redemption, to do something selfless and good for someone who was truly in need, but I didn’t. I could have stayed and made sure she was okay, climbed on board the ambulance and sat next to her while they took her to the hospital, but I didn’t.
Redemption Lane Page 17