Missing From Me (Sixth Street Bands Book 3)

by Jayne Frost

  When I returned with the soda, Melissa was sitting at the far corner of the couch, glancing over the pictures on the side table. I recognized the 8x10 of Anna and me in our graduation garb. Three brightly colored chords hung from her neck, a testament to all her achievements. Her unlimited promise. At the time, I had nothing but a dream and the love of a girl who was way out of my league.

  “You know, technology is pretty useful sometimes,” Melissa said softly as I handed her the can. “Chelsea showed me how to send those snapshots I took straight to Walgreens. Do you know they had them ready in an hour?”

  Two smaller pictures I’d never seen sat in silver frames. One of Willow on Anna’s lap, her little face tilted to her mother in adoration, and the other, a candid shot of the three of us.

  The pain in my chest threatened to break me in half.

  My family.

  “Are you going to hide out here for a couple of days?” Melissa asked. “It’s your house too. You know you’re always welcome.”

  Flopping onto the sofa, I draped my arm over her shoulder. “I’ve got visitation with Willow tomorrow morning at Alecia and Brian’s.”

  She cackled. “That’ll teach you. Brian’s going to tune you up but good.”

  I sighed. “I could have had Willow’s visits here if I wanted. Anna gave me the choice.”

  She’d always given me choices. I’d been the one who’d refused to negotiate.

  Reading my mind, Melissa huffed, “That girl’s amazing. Still making it easy on you. You need to do whatever it takes to get her to talk to you.”

  The weight of Melissa’s expectations added to the exhaustion spreading through my limbs. “There’s not much I can do if she won’t answer me.”

  She hummed, lacing our fingers. “Do you remember when that guy hit your pickup truck when you were in high school?” I nodded, and she laughed. “When you found out he didn’t have insurance, you followed him around for a month to make sure he paid for that dent. Not that anyone would notice one dent in that old rust bucket.”

  Dropping my head back, I closed my eyes. “Is there a point coming anytime soon?”

  “My point is,” Melissa jabbed me in the ribs, “you’ve got a lot of tenacity when it suits you. But when it doesn’t, you let things fall through the cracks. “

  I gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you comparing Anna to an ’85 Chevy?”

  “No. I just want you to get your priorities straight. And it’s not just about Anna. Willow’s not your girlfriend. She’s not your aunt or your cousin. She’s your daughter.”

  I sat up, my fatigue all but erased by the indignation stiffening my spine. “Are you saying I don’t take care of my family?”

  Melissa’s gaze followed mine as I glanced over the expensive furniture and top of the line electronics I’d purchased.

  “You’re a generous man,” she conceded. “But Willow doesn’t need any grand gestures. She needs you. Remember that.”

  Signaling an end to the discussion, Melissa laid her head on my shoulder and flipped to a re-run of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. We used to watch the series religiously when I was a kid. Or rather, Melissa watched while I fantasized about Sarah Michelle Gellar, the only good thing about the show, in my opinion.

  Still, I’d sat through every episode more than once because Melissa enjoyed it.

  Thinking back over the last four years, I tried to remember the last time I did anything to suit anyone but myself.

  My needs. My time. My terms.

  Sadly, my actions proved I was still that guy, looking out for myself and rolling over anyone who got in my way.

  Including Anna.

  My Anna.

  I chased her away. And now I had to face reality—my daughter didn’t make me a better man.

  I had to do that for myself.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Sean

  Waiting in my car a block away from the Dresden house, I checked the clock, and seeing as I had a few minutes, I fired off another text to Anna.

  Talk to me, baby. I’m right outside.

  While I waited for a reply that would probably never come, I scrolled through the last batch of messages I’d sent.

  I didn’t know what the lawyer was going to do.

  Let me explain.

  All I wanted to do was protect you.

  I didn’t even mention Kimber. The lawsuit and threat to wrangle custody of our daughter was enough.

  When the clock on the dash read 8:00 a.m., I pulled alongside the house, then got out of the car and made the trek up the rose-lined path.

  After climbing the steps, I stood at the front door and looked around. The same porch swing hung in the corner, and I could practically feel the wooden slats against my back from all the hours Anna and I had spent in that very spot.

  What the hell are you doing here?

  As if by magic, the door swung open and my question was answered.

  “Sen!”

  Willow reached for me, but she was firmly entrenched in her grandfather’s arms, and Brian looked pissed as hell, so I made no move to grab her.

  “Hey, Willow-baby.” I shifted my attention to Anna’s father and smiled grimly. “Brian.”

  He set Willow on her feet, and she coiled her fingers around mine, but Brian seemed intent on blocking my path.

  In a menacing tone, too low for Willow to hear, he growled, “You don’t seem too sure of yourself, son. If you changed your mind, I’d be happy to show you to your car.”

  The nineteen-year age gap separating Anna’s father and me seemed more pronounced when I was young. Brian was always imposing with his broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms, but back then, I thought he was old, and I laughed off his thinly veiled threats.

  Don’t ever hurt my daughter or there won’t be enough of your body left to identify, we clear, son?

  Brian’s comments usually earned him a light slap on the arm from Alecia and an eye roll from Anna.

  But now, glimpsing the ink peeking from the sleeve of his T-shirt, I didn’t notice the gray hair dusting his temples or the faint lines around his eyes. All I saw was a man of similar height and build, ready to show me the business end of his rather large fists.

  Weighing the options—a knockdown, drag-out fight on the porch of his home while my daughter watched, or taking Willow to Melissa’s, I prepared to exercise the out-clause Anna had given me.

  “Listen, Brian,” I began. “I think it would be better—”

  Alecia shoved her husband out of the way. “Quit glaring at the boy, Brian.” She faced me with a forced smile. “Please come in, Sean.”

  There was pleading in her eyes that I couldn’t ignore.

  “Thanks,” I said, letting Willow pull me into the house.

  After I took a seat on the couch, Willow flopped on the floor a few feet away, leaving me to deal with her grandparents.

  “Go get us some sweet tea,” Alecia said to Brian, shooing him away. “And grab Willow some of that organic pear juice.”

  Once he was gone, Alecia turned her emerald gaze on me. “I want you to tell me right now if this is some kind of game.”

  Propping my elbows on my knees, I clasped my hands and looked down at the carpet. “No game.”

  Alecia heaved out a breath. “Why couldn’t you just be honest with Anna? Tricking her, telling her you loved her, that was cruel, Sean.”

  I felt Anna’s presence, and I knew she was probably hovering on the staircase. So I sat up and spoke only for her.

  “I didn’t lie about loving Anna. I’ve never loved another woman.”

  And I never will. I left that part out because some truths were too painful to admit.

  Alecia folded her arms over her chest and sat back, silently urging me to continue.

  “I didn’t know Scott was preparing that summons. Or the DNA test. None of it.” Cursing the weary sigh that tripped from my lips, I shook my head. “I’m not going to fight Anna for custody. I just wanted to know my daughter. Give her
my name.” I glanced at Alecia. “Is that too much to ask?”

  Her lips parted like she was about to let loose, and I prepared for her wrath. But then Anna’s picture lit up the screen on the phone in Alecia’s hand.

  I heard the patter of footsteps on the stairs, and then Brian took off like a shot, following his little girl. The same way I’d follow mine.

  Alecia shoved to her feet and left the room to take the call. Anna was saving me again, and fuck, I didn’t deserve it.

  Willow gave me the side-eye, and accepting her invitation, I slid onto the floor and crawled to her side.

  “What are you doing, Willow-baby?”

  “Payin wiff bocks.”

  I eased onto my stomach. “Need some help?”

  She didn’t answer, but after a moment she tapped my arm. Dropping a block into my hand, she waited while I chose a spot. After several more exchanges, she leaned against me, surveying our handiwork with a most serious expression.

  “It’s goo.” Her little brow knit and she amended, “It’s gooda.”

  She peered over at me for confirmation, and I smiled. “That’s right, baby, it’s good.”

  Grabbing her coloring book, she slid onto her belly right next to me. “Cowor now.”

  She smoothed the page before examining the box of Crayolas. Handing me a blue crayon, she smiled. “Buue.”

  Shoulder to shoulder, we worked in silence, and when the portrait was complete, I picked up a discarded brown crayon.

  Willow’s lips formed a little o as I sketched a tree in the corner right below where I wrote her name. She watched intently as I sorted through the crayons for just the right color.

  “Green.” Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I lovingly filled in the leaves on every branch. “Like mommy’s eyes.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Anna

  I knocked on the door of my old house, and getting no answer, I slid my key into the deadbolt, hoping Dean hadn’t called a locksmith.

  The tumblers clicked, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped into the foyer. A stack of mail sat on the small table below the art niche, and I grabbed the pile before heading to the kitchen.

  I yelped, the letters slipping from my hands, when I rounded the corner and saw Dean sitting at the table.

  “I-I’m sorry. I knocked. I didn’t know you were here.”

  After studying me for a moment, he shoved to his feet and took out his earbuds. “I didn’t hear you.”

  I backed up as Dean closed the gap between us, my cheeks flaming when he stooped to pick up the mail. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Anna.”

  Annoyance laced his tone, rightfully so, and I crouched to help him.

  “I know that.” Our eyes met when he handed me the stack, and I smiled. “How are you?”

  Dean walked to the coffee pot and, taking a mug from the hook under the cabinet, he said, “Better than you, I guess.”

  He poured coffee into the cup, added sugar, and then set the steaming brew on the counter in front of me.

  “Sorry, I don’t have any cream.” He motioned to the table. “Do you have time to talk?”

  I had nothing but time. In fact, I’d seriously considered what I was going to do for the few hours Sean was with Willow. After the first visit when I’d lurked on the stairs, I decided it would be better if I wasn’t around for any others.

  I took a seat. “You’re not going to the office today?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve got court this afternoon. Just getting some notes together.”

  Glancing over the papers strewn over the table, I realized the intrusion and picked up my cup.

  Dean sat back, scrutinizing me, and after a moment of yawning silence, he asked, “Where’s Willow?”

  The hot liquid burned my tongue when I took a larger gulp than I meant to. “Um . . . she’s having a visitation with Sean at my parents’ house.”

  Dean cursed under his breath and looked down. He’d always told me that nothing good would come of anything concerning Sean, but he was wrong.

  “He’s good with Willow,” I said quietly. “And that’s all that matters.”

  “And I wasn’t.”

  Shocked, I jerked my gaze to his. “No, you were fine with her. It’s just . . .”

  Not the same. I left that part out. Dean didn’t deserve it. He was a good man in a bad situation. And now he was free to get on with his life.

  “Look, Anna,” he began slowly. “I have my apartment downtown. Why don’t you and the baby move back in here?”

  For a brief second, I considered it. But then I shook my head. “That’s really nice of you, but I’ve got some other things I’m looking into.”

  Dean sat back, brown eyes searching my face. “What kind of things?”

  My mouth went dry, and I felt a strange sense of guilt discussing this with him since I hadn’t told anyone else. But then, it wouldn’t be the first secret we’d shared.

  “I’m thinking about going back to school.”

  Dean leaned forward, smiling. “Law school?”

  I nodded, suddenly shy about the whole thing. I’d always intended to go back, but then Willow’s hearing problem came to light, and I’d spent every waking moment making sure that I was there for her.

  “I think that’s great,” he said, covering my hand with his. I didn’t flinch or try to move away. There was no spark, and we both knew it. “Have you talked to the admissions department?”

  I gave him a tight smile because of course, he was assuming I was talking about UT Law. But that ship had sailed.

  “Yes.” It was an honest answer, at least that’s what I told myself. I had spoken to the registrar’s office at Baylor. “They’re reviewing my transcripts.”

  We spent the next two hours talking about first-year courses and what classes I should take if I got in.

  And then Dean shoved to his feet. “I’ve got to get ready for court.” He smiled. “You can come with me if you’d like. I can dazzle you with my mad skills.”

  I laughed as I pushed out of my chair. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  Dean’s eyes lost a little of their sparkle. “Because of Sean? Are you still holding on to that dream, Anna?”

  “No,” I said softly. “I’ve learned my lesson. It’s time to dream a new dream.”

  A little piece of me felt bad about lying to Dean because a part of that dream would never die. But I’d bury it, just like I had for the past four years.

  Dean’s lips parted, and I could tell he wanted to say something else. But he didn’t. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.

  “You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met. If there’s anything I can do…”

  The invitation hung between us, but unlike before, I wouldn’t be accepting his offer.

  This time, I had to do things on my own.

  For me and for Willow.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Sean

  “I’m out of here,” Chelsea mumbled, jumping out of the Range Rover as we coasted to a stop. Tapping her foot, she waited for Melissa’s garage door to open, then flounced into the house.

  I met Melissa’s unfocused gaze in the rearview mirror. “What the hell is her problem?”

  Drugged up from the medication they gave her before we left the hospital, my aunt offered a drowsy smile. “She’s scared, sugar. Give her time.”

  I understood all about the fear. The past two nights while Melissa recovered in her hospital room, I thought I’d choke from the weight of it. Even though the doctors had assured us that the surgery was a success, I hadn’t slept more than a few hours, keeping vigil next to Melissa’s bed.

  Turning my attention to Willow, sitting quietly in her car seat, my anxiety abated at the sight of her little face.

  “We’re all scared, Melissa,” I said as I pulled the car into the garage. “But Chelsea needs to step it up. If she’s going to disappear into her room, I’m going to hire a nurse to mak
e sure you’re not alone.”

  Melissa tried not to chuckle. “Not much chance of that happening. Every time I turn around, you’re underfoot.”

  She was right. But I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I wouldn’t violate Anna’s rules about visitation. But Brian couldn’t stand the sight of me, and I didn’t feel comfortable spending my mornings in his living room.

  Melissa touched my hand as I loosened the buckles on Willow’s car seat. “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere in Europe or Asia or somewhere?”

  Ignoring the question, I set Willow on her feet and then slid my arms under Melissa’s legs.

  Halting my forward progress with a firm hand to my chest, she frowned. “You haven’t mentioned the tour. When do you leave?”

  For someone hopped up on pain meds, she had a surprisingly strong will.

  It was either answer the question or wrestle Melissa to the ground. “There is no tour.”

  Not technically correct. But not a lie either.

  Melissa’s eyes widened. “Sugar, what did you do?”

  Motioning for Willow to follow, I carried my aunt through the house.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Melissa said weakly as I settled her onto the couch. “What did you do?”

  “It’s complicated. Now stop with the third degree and tell me what you want to drink.”

  A smile ghosted her lips. “Whiskey sour.”

  “Water it is. Be right back.”

  As I headed out of the room, Willow climbed onto the couch. I slowed to make sure she wouldn’t disturb Melissa, but I should’ve known better. My aunt welcomed my baby with open arms and tucked Willow to her side.

  When I returned a few moments later, Melissa was absently sifting through Willow’s auburn curls. “Let’s hope Willow’s hair color isn’t the only thing she inherited from Annabelle.”

  Setting the glass on the end table, I dropped into the chair and then scrubbed a hand down my face. “I hope she picked up a few traits from our side of the family. They’re not all bad.”

  Melissa’s azure gaze darkened with fear. “It’s not her personality that concerns me.”