Unraveling the Past

by Beth Andrews

  “Sir,” Uncle Ross said in his cop voice, “could you get out of the hot tub?” His hard gaze flicked to her. “You, too.”

  Anthony hesitated. Blushed. “Uh…” He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea…”

  “Out,” Uncle Ross said, taking a menacing step forward as if he was going to go Bad Cop after all. Layne laid a hand on his arm and he stopped but ground out, “Now.”

  With a defeated sigh, Anthony rose. His swim trunks were tented from his erection. Jess looked away, bile rising in her throat.

  With a soft sound, Layne grabbed one of the large, white towels Anthony had brought out and tossed it to him. He caught it against his chest, got out and wrapped the towel around his waist.

  “What’s going on?” he asked again. “Is it my parents? Did something happen?”

  His mom and dad had gone out of the town for the weekend, some political fundraiser thing in New York.

  “Uncle Kenny and Aunt Astor are fine,” Layne told him as Jess climbed out, her arms trembling, her legs unsteady.

  Uncle? Aunt? Jess groaned. She should’ve realized Layne and Anthony were related. God, wasn’t everyone in this stupid town connected to everyone else?

  “This is Chief Taylor,” Layne told Anthony as she held out a second towel, but Jess could only stare at it blindly. “He’s Jess’s uncle.”

  Anthony dragged a hand down his face, smiled sheepishly as he held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  Uncle Ross kept his hands at his sides, nodded at the bottle of beer on the edge of the hot tub. “That yours?”

  Slowly lowering his hand, Anthony glanced at Layne. “Yes, sir.”

  “And did you provide any alcohol to my niece?”

  Shivering in her red bikini, Jess stepped forward, the deck cold under her bare feet. “Uncle Ross—”

  “No, sir,” Anthony said. “Is that what this is about?” he asked Layne. “You thought I let her have a beer?”

  “She’s a minor,” Layne said.

  He frowned. “You mean she’s underage.”

  Jess met Layne’s eyes, shook her head, silently pleading with her not to say anything. Not to tell him. Not to ruin the one good thing she had in her life.

  “Anthony,” Layne said quietly, looking away from Jess, “she’s fifteen.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ANTHONY LAUGHED. “WHAT?” He glanced around and his smile faded, was replaced by a confused frown. He shook his head. “No. No,” he repeated more firmly.

  But when he looked at her, he didn’t seem as convinced.

  “Actually,” Uncle Ross said, “today’s her birthday. Her sixteenth.”

  Jess opened her mouth but all that came out was a sound of distress. She needed to figure out a way to fix this, to make it right before she lost the best thing ever to happen to her. But she had no words, no idea what to do, what to say.

  “Jess?” Anthony asked stepping closer. He smiled at her, a hopeful tell-me-they’re-yanking-my-chain smile but his eyes were serious. Worried. “That’s not true, is it?”

  Though it wasn’t cold out, she couldn’t stop shaking. Water dripped off her, ran in rivulets from her hair to drop onto her shoulders, raced down her arms and chest.

  “Tell me it’s not true,” Anthony said, his voice harsher than she’d ever heard.

  She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I can’t,” she whispered, the words feeling like broken glass in her raw throat.

  His face drained of color, the hand he dragged through his hair trembled. “Jesus.”

  “I’m sorry,” she cried, but the rest of what was in her heart stayed there.

  I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me. Please, please don’t leave me.

  His blue eyes went flat, cold. “What was this—some sort of joke? A prank?” He stepped even closer, looking big and angry and dangerous. She scrambled back, tripping over her own feet. “What the hell was this?”

  Her heart breaking, her world crumbling yet again, all she could do was shake her head.

  “Anthony,” Layne murmured, touching his arm. “Why don’t you go inside, get dressed? We’ll take Jess home.”

  He didn’t respond, just looked at Jess with utter contempt. With pure hatred. As if he didn’t know her at all—when he’d known her better than anyone. Finally he nodded stiffly then spun on his heel and went toward the house, Layne following him.

  Jess watched him go, his back rigid, his stride long until he closed the door behind him. Everything inside of her, any hope she may have been dumb enough to hold on to, died.

  He’d walked away from her. Left her without looking back. Without fighting for her.

  Hadn’t she known he was too good to be true? And she never got to keep anything good.

  “Get your things,” Uncle Ross ordered roughly, like he was some damned drill sergeant and she a lowly recruit. “We’re leaving.”

  Jess’s chest grew tight, her breathing quickened until she grew light-headed. Until a strange roaring sound filled her ears. He was always telling her what to do. When to do it. It was his fault Anthony had found out the truth. His fault she’d lost Anthony.

  Vibrating with fury, with a rage unlike she’d ever known, she faced her uncle. “I hate you,” she spat, her hands fisted by her sides, her nails digging into her palms.

  He didn’t even blink. “Okay,” he said as if it didn’t matter, as if she didn’t matter. “But you can hate me at home just as easily as you can here, so let’s go.”

  He didn’t care. He’d never care.

  “I hate you,” she repeated, something inside her snapping. She caught a glimpse of shock on his face as she launched herself at him. “I hate you!” she screamed, pummeling him with her fists wherever she could reach. His chest, his shoulders. “You ruined it! You ruin everything.”

  “Knock it off,” he ground out, trying to grab her hands. “Damn it, Jess, calm down.”

  But she wouldn’t, couldn’t. She caught him low in the stomach and he grunted. Satisfaction poured through her, gave her renewed strength. She wanted to hurt him, wanted him to know how it felt to suffer. To be in as much pain as she was in.

  “Hey, hey!” Layne said a moment before grabbing both of Jess’s upper arms from behind and dragging her off her uncle. “Cool off.”

  Though Layne’s arms were wrapped around Jess’s shoulders, she lunged at Uncle Ross again with a hoarse cry.

  Layne whirled her around, held her by the shoulders and gave her one quick, rough shake. One hard enough to have Jess’s teeth snapping together, the fight draining out of her. “I said cool off.”

  “What the hell has gotten into you?” Uncle Ross asked, eyeing her as if she was some sort of tame pet that had suddenly gone rabid. His expression was fierce, his neck marred with angry red marks, his shirt wrinkled.

  Gulping in air, Jess twisted out of Layne’s hold and faced him. “You ruined my life.”

  “Ruined…?” He grabbed the back of his neck and looked up at the sky as if asking for some sort of heavenly intervention. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

  He would. Asshole. “I didn’t ask you to take me in,” she reminded him. “I didn’t want to be dragged to this stupid town. You did that. Just like you made sure my mom was put away—”

  “Your mother has a problem,” he said so calmly she wanted to scream and yank her hair out. Or, better yet, yank his hair out. “She needs help and she’s getting it.”

  “I helped her!” She hugged her arms around herself but she couldn’t get warm. Didn’t think she’d ever be warm again. Layne tried to press the towel into her hands but Jess stepped back. “I took care of her, took care of both of us. We were doing just fine without you.”

  His steely gaze flicked to Layne and then back to Jess. “We can discuss this when we get home.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Just the thought of returning to that house, of being where she wasn’t wanted, not really, made her frantic. She’d ra
ther die than go anywhere with him. She whirled around. “I don’t want to go with him,” she told Layne, her voice breaking. “Please don’t make me go with him.”

  “Of course you’re going with me,” he said, as if she were a bratty five-year-old and not almost an adult. “You live with me.”

  “You don’t want me,” Jess said numbly. “You never wanted me.”

  No one did.

  Layne shifted. Sighed. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” she muttered, “but…” She exhaled heavily then met Jess’s eyes. “You can stay with me.”

  Jess’s heart kicked painfully in her chest. “Really?”

  “No,” Uncle Ross said at the same time Layne said, “Yes.”

  “Get your stuff,” Layne continued as if Uncle Ross wasn’t glaring at her, “and wait for me in my car while I talk to your uncle.”

  Jess scooped up the tank top she’d tossed onto one of the lounge chairs when Anthony had asked her to join him in the hot tub. Thank God she’d brought her bag back out here after changing into her suit inside the luxurious house. She couldn’t handle bumping into Anthony now. Not when all she wanted was to escape. To curl up somewhere and pretend this whole horrible night had never happened.

  But mostly, she wanted to get away from Uncle Ross.

  Holding her flip-flops in one hand, clutching her bag to her chest with the other, she raced past her uncle, pretending not to hear when he quietly said her name. No one wanted her. Not her mother or her grandparents or Uncle Ross. Not Anthony. They all walked away from her without regret or guilt.

  Her stomach hurt, her chest burned. All of her hopes, her dreams, were dead. She was empty.

  But at least this time, this one time, she was going to be the one walking away.

  * * *

  IT TOOK ALL OF ROSS’S self-control not to toss Jess over his shoulder and stomp off with her to his truck. To force her to do as he said. To listen to him, just this once.

  He watched her disappear around the back of the house, her hair wet and stringy, her bathing suit way too revealing for a girl her age. Damn it, why couldn’t she trust that he knew what was best for her?

  “You realize there’s a good chance she’ll just take off,” Ross said, crossing his arms as he glared at Layne.

  “There’s always that chance,” she said with a shrug. “But I doubt she’s going anywhere tonight.”

  He wished he had her confidence. Or the ability to fool himself as well as she did. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, interfering with my niece that way?”

  Layne studied him, tranquil as the night air. “I’m making it possible for you and Jess to have some sort of healthy relationship in the future.”

  “At this point, I’d settle for going a day without her wanting to rip my head off.” He rubbed at a sore spot on his side. He still couldn’t believe she’d attacked him that way and blamed him for what happened here tonight. She lied and somehow it was his fault? What the hell kind of thinking was that? “And I’m not about to let her go off on some…sleepover. My God, she was fooling around with a twenty-one-year-old. A grown man. Do you know what could have happened to her?”

  His stomach cramped just thinking about it.

  “I know what could’ve happened if it’d been someone other than Anthony,” Layne said in her brisk, no-nonsense way as she crossed to the hot tub. “She put herself in a dangerous situation, there’s no doubt about that. Plus, don’t think I’m too thrilled with how she deceived my cousin.”

  “But you still want to reward her by letting her get her way in this?”

  “It’s not a reward and I’m not saying she shouldn’t face the consequences of her actions. But you saw her. She’s hurting, Ross,” she said quietly.

  “What she is,” he scoffed, “is pissed she got caught. She wasn’t even crying.”

  Kneeling, Layne shut the jets off then glanced up at him. “Only because what happened was too painful for her to cry.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, wished this whole crappy night was over already. “That makes no sense.”

  She sighed and rose, crossed to him. “You said yourself that she didn’t cry when her mom was sentenced, that when she was ready to face those feelings, she would. She’ll mourn in her own time. And you’re right. But sometimes what we’re dealing with is so painful, you can’t let yourself have the luxury of tears.” Her voice dropped, her eyes were somber. “Because if you cry, you may never stop.” She inhaled deeply. “That’s why I didn’t cry when my mom left.”

  He reached for her. “Layne—”

  Shaking her head, she stepped back. “I just want you to try to understand what Jess is going through. To see her side.”

  “Her side? The only thing I see is that my niece is out of control.”

  “Possibly. But what good is it going to do for you to force her to go home with you? And let’s be honest, some distance between you two will do you both good.”

  He was afraid she was right. More than that, he was terrified he’d messed things up with Jess so badly he’d never be able to fix it. “I don’t know.” And damn it, he hated admitting he was so unsure.

  “You can fight me on this,” Layne said, the lights from the house casting her face in shadows. “Or you can trust me. Jess needs some space. You’re not giving in to her or letting her get away with anything by doing what she needs.”

  He bristled. “Every decision I’ve made in the past six months, every choice, has been for her. I’ve done everything in my power to do what’s right by her.”

  “You’ve done what you thought was best for her.”

  “What’s wrong with that? Isn’t that my job as her guardian?”

  “That’s part of it,” Layne agreed, “but Jess doesn’t need you making decisions for her.”

  “Then what the hell does she need from me?” he asked exasperated and completely baffled.

  “That’s easy,” Layne said. “She needs you to put her first.”

  And Layne walked off before he could ask her what she meant, how he could possibly do any more for Jess than he’d already done. He reached the driveway just as Layne pulled away. There was a pang under his breastbone as he watched them go.

  You don’t want me. You never wanted me.

  He blew out a heavy breath. When she’d said that, he’d thought she was just being overly dramatic but now he realized she really thought that.

  And he hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t told her that wasn’t true, that of course he wanted her with him. He slid into his truck, leaned his head back against the seat wearily. He’d messed up with Jess, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d lose her.

  It was time for him to decide what he wanted. And to go after it, no matter what it cost him.

  * * *

  “GOOD TO SEE THE EVENTS of last night haven’t affected your appetite,” Layne said the next morning as Jess poured herself a second bowl of cereal.

  Jess added milk then scooped up a spoonful. “I’m a growing girl.”

  “Hmm” was all Layne said. She sipped her coffee, watching Jess over the rim of the cup. “You sleep okay?”

  She lifted a shoulder. Shoveled more cereal into her mouth. She’d tossed and turned all night. Her eyes felt gritty, burned from lack of sleep. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Anthony, of how he’d smiled at her. How he’d said he’d wait for her.

  Except, he hadn’t meant that. Because now he wouldn’t even take her phone calls, wouldn’t answer her texts.

  She’d lost him.

  Her throat closed and she tossed her spoon down as Layne’s dog started barking. A moment later someone knocked on the back door.

  Jess glanced behind her, stiffened to see Uncle Ross standing outside the glass door. He was in his uniform, his hair damp from the drizzling rain.

  Layne stood. “You ready for this?”

  “Why not?” Jess asked with a sigh. “It’s not like my life could possibly get any crappier.”

  “Do
n’t be such a pessimist,” Layne said, lightly swatting her arm. “Of course it can.”

  Jess rolled her eyes but then gave up and smiled. “Great. Well then, I guess I have something to look forward to.”

  “That’s the old can-do spirit.”

  Jess remained hunched over her bowl, her gaze on the table, while Layne answered the door. “Morning, Chief,” she said over Bobby’s excited yapping.

  “Captain,” her uncle said in his deep voice. “I was wondering if I could have a few minutes with Jess?”

  “Sure. Why don’t I just take Bobby here for a quick walk. Give you two some privacy?”

  Now Jess whirled around. “You can stay.”

  Layne, holding on to a quivering Bobby as he strained to get to Uncle Ross, glanced Jess’s way. “You sure?”

  “I mean, if you want, you can stay,” she said as nonchalantly as possible so Layne wouldn’t think Jess cared one way or the other what she decided. “It’s raining out, anyway.”

  Layne and Uncle Ross exchanged a look. “If Jess wants you to stay,” he said, “I don’t have a problem with it.”

  “Okay, but it’s too early in the morning for me to referee any fights.” She raised her eyebrows at them both. “Understood?”

  Ross nodded. Jess jerked up a shoulder. She wasn’t about to fight with him. She wasn’t even going to talk to him. Ever.

  Layne put Bobby out back where he could hang out on the patio under the awning without getting wet. She shut the door and the poor dog pressed his nose against the glass looking all sad and pitiful and lonely.

  She knew how he felt.

  “Have a seat, Chief,” Layne told Uncle Ross as she gestured to the table. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “No. Thank you.” He stood at the head of the table while Layne sat down at the chair across from Jess. “Morning, Jess,” he said, looking all stiff and formal in his stupid uniform and so uncomfortable to be standing there facing her, Jess wanted to cheer.

  Instead she sneered then deliberately averted her gaze and forced down another bite of cereal.

  “Remember what we talked about last night,” Layne said in a singsong voice.