Prisoner and Together: All of You series complete set

by Silvey, Melissa

  The louder I speak, the wider her eyes get. And when I realize she’s not looking at me, but at a point behind my shoulder, it’s too late. I turn around swiftly to find her step-dad standing in the doorway. I have no idea how much of that he’s heard, but I’ve never felt like such an ass in my life. “I’m sorry,” I say to Doctor Foster, then I turn back to Lani. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t mean it.”

  “I just came by to see how you were both doing, but I think that’s obvious.” Lani’s looking at me like she feels nothing, like she’s never felt anything in her life. Her face is beautiful, normal, but her eyes are flat. She’s staring at me like I’m a stranger. I think my heart might be completely shattered by that look.

  “Hey, I’m about ready to leave for the day. Do you need a ride?” Doctor Foster says, and I realize he’s talking to Lani.

  “Sure,” she says, and walks toward him, around me, without saying a word.

  Killian busts in just then, triumphantly, and says, “Hey, look what we’ve retrieved from the prison,” he says. He’s holding up a picture of me with my kids, one of the last pictures Lucy took of the three of us, on Max’s fifth birthday, right before I deployed. Three months later, the village incident happened. I was in the hospital for four months after the Army Rangers found us, shot in the right side. I don’t know how long I lay there bleeding before I was saved. After that, the legal shit happened.

  “See, you don’t need a baby,” she says, and walks out the door. We’re being separated again, but this time it’s Lani who’s doing it. I try to follow her, but Killian tries to stop me. When I put my hand on his shoulder and push him away, the guards sitting at my door both draw their guns.

  I place my hands up at my shoulders. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m not going to fight.” I can see Lani getting on the elevator with her step-dad. She doesn’t even look back at me. “Lani!” I scream, but the doors close. I wish I could punch something.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lani

  “Do you want to talk about it now?” Doctor Dad asks as we’re seated in his new Corvette, which is a little ostentatious even for my tastes, but it is probably the most beautiful, and comfortable, car I’ve ever seen. The huge engine roars to life, and he tries really hard not to squeal the tires.

  “Okay, before you take it entirely out of context, and think he’s some kind of abusive monster, he’s not. He’s just big and sometimes it hurts.” I am extremely embarrassed, as I explain what Tony meant.

  “He’s that big?” Doctor Dad’s eyes grow wide.

  “Yea, it hits something deep inside me, and it feels good and hurts at the same time.” I huff, and cross my arms over my chest. “Do you think that could have caused a miscarriage?”

  “Did you ask Doctor Reynolds?” He doesn’t look at me, because he can’t control the car and take his eyes off the road for a second.

  “No. I was embarrassed, and I’m twice as embarrassed telling you.”

  “I don’t think that had anything to do with it, to be honest. I think you’ve had a very stressful time, and it’s just normal, really.” I think he’s trying to comfort me. “But I don’t think what he said was very conducive to a trusting, loving relationship.”

  “I started it,” I admit. “I’m starving. Can we run through a drive thru?” He glares at me, momentarily, as if he doesn’t want food in his pristine car. “I promise not to eat it until I’m home.” He relents, and I continue to talk as we’re waiting in line. “I started it. I was so angry that he didn’t seem affected at all by the news that I wasn’t pregnant, I started a fight with him.”

  “Is that what you thought? Because when I told you both you probably weren’t pregnant, he looked like he was going to cry.” I look at him like I doubt him. “I’m serious. I don’t think the guy is good enough for you, I’ll be honest. But I think the news really hurt him. I felt sorry for him.”

  “I’ve just been so emotional, about all of it. And I’m never emotional. Even with Killian, I think I was just dating him because I was supposed to settle down. I cheated on him constantly. I never really loved him.” I swear I have no idea why all of this is coming out of my mouth right now.

  “What about Antony? Do you love him?” he asks, point blank.

  “I think so. I mean, I’ve never felt fear before, like I felt when I was afraid he was dead after the guy pulled the gun on me.” He looks shocked when I say it. “You mean it hasn’t been all over the news?”

  “I haven’t watched the news today, to be honest.” We order the food, and he pulls up and pays for it, then he hands it to me. “Do you want to come by the house? Your mom saw you on the news, and is asking about what’s going on.”

  “No, I don’t feel like trying to go through all of it again with her. I think I’d like to sit at home with a bottle of wine, eat my tacos, and cry.” He shrugs, and starts driving toward my cottage. “You know it’s all been so intense, the death matches, and the sex, and the baby. It was just a constant whirlwind of emotions. And now I just feel empty.”

  “Just take a rest tonight. Try to sleep. Tomorrow you might feel better,” he says.

  “And after I have an entire a bottle of wine.”

  “Like mother like daughter,” he observes bitterly. He actually sounds angry.

  “I had no idea mom’s drinking bothered you.” I turn toward him, but he’s staring at the road, avoiding me. “I don’t do it all the time. It’s just this one time.” I lie. I’ve done it before, but not nearly as often as Mom.

  “I know she’s going through a lot, but damn it, Lani. I’m going through the same thing, you know? And I had to worry about you, in that jail. And you tried to act like nothing was wrong, but you’re not that good an actor. I always knew when you were lying, even if your mom didn’t.” He smiles wistfully when he says it. “I just wish she’d realize that I need her, instead of hiding her sorrow in a bottle.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, and place my hand on his shoulder. He scrunches up his shoulder, and places his cheek against my hand. Touching him, I don’t feel any of the longing I would have before…

  I smile when we pull up to my cottage, because my convertible is sitting in the driveway. He parks beside it, and helps me carry my bags inside. “Do you want me to stay, and talk? We could share your tacos, and wine,” he offers. But I think it’s more for him than me. Once upon a time I might have jumped at the chance to spend the evening alone with him, torturing myself with my forbidden crush.

  “No, I’ll be fine, I promise,” I assure him. And when he kisses my cheek, I smile weakly, and nod.

  “Okay, call if you need me,” he says. I wave, and he walks out the door.

  Jesus, I must really love Tony, if I’m turning down Paul Foster.

  I shrug, and eat my tacos with a bottle of water, because I intend to leave after I eat and change, and I don’t want to drink and drive.

  Tony

  Winston is a nice, Midwestern town. The sun is still out, but it’s weak. The land is so flat here, it’s kinda weird. Even California isn’t this flat. I look around at everything. There are some empty store fronts, but not many. And everything is so damn clean, and organized. It looks like the kind of place you’d want to raise your kids.

  “How many people live here?” I ask Burke from the backseat of the SUV.

  “About thirty thousand, I guess. I don’t live here, I live in Oakville. It’s about twenty minutes north of here,” he answers. We pass several restaurants, and my stomach growls. I don’t think I’ve eaten since breakfast.

  “Hey, I’m starving. Can I get a burger?”

  “You can order room service at the hotel, whatever you want. You can even order steak,” he jokes. Then he gets serious, and offers, “Do you need to talk about, you know? What happened earlier?”

  Yea, the last person I want to talk to about Lani is her ex-boyfriend, I want to say. But I don’t. “No, I’m okay,” I lie. I still really don’t know why she got so upset in the
first place.

  “Melanie Vaden can be a handful. She’s stubborn, and smart, and too independent for her own good,” he continues. I guess he didn’t get the hint.

  “Yea,” I say, just because I feel like I have to say something.

  “If you can get past her walls, you’re a better man than me.” He grins as he says it. He actually grins.

  Thankfully we pull up to the hotel just then. He’s already got the key, and he leads me straight to an elevator. He opens the door, and looks in every room, as if he’s afraid a man with a gun will be hiding behind it.

  “You sprang for the suite,” I notice. There’s a kitchenette/living space with a desk, a couch, a TV, a bedroom, and a bathroom.

  “It was included in the price,” he informs me, businesslike. I laugh.

  “Make yourself at home,” he says. “Order a beer if you want. It’s on Uncle Sam.”

  “In that case, I’ll order two.” I smile at him. I still don’t particularly like him, but he’s starting to grow on me. “Do you have Lani’s number?”

  “Yep.”

  I stare at him for several seconds. “Can I get it?”

  “Nope. If she wants you to have it, you’ll have it.” He shrugs, and walks out. I call room service, and order two steaks and two beers. Screw Killian Burke.

  Lani

  I’m digging around in my closet for anything that isn’t a pantsuit. Since I just started my period, I wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing a dress. Not that I have many of those to choose from either. And it’s a little too cool now for shorts, but not cold yet thankfully. I finally find what I’m looking for. My mom thought it would be cute to buy me some short shorts and jackets that match from a lingerie chain. She told me she thought I’d get a guy that way. I guess she didn’t realize I’d have to work out with the guys that I work with. So I threw them in the back of the closet, and wore them to jog sometimes on fall days.

  I find one that’s black and red, and it matches the red fingernail polish that’s still on my fingers. I dress, and pull my still blonde hair up into a ponytail. The color is growing on me. “Am I turning into that girl? That girl who primps in the mirror, and wears nail polish to match her outfit? Is that me?” I ask my reflection, as I put on a coat of pink lip gloss, a touch of blush, and dark mascara.

  “What are you doing? You were mad at him not two hours ago,” I remind myself in the mirror. But this me, this blonde me who might actually be in love for the first time, just smiles back.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tony

  One of the steak dinners is still untouched on the plate, and it’s sitting on the desk in case I change my mind and decide I want it. I thought I was hungry when I ordered, but for some reason I don’t have an appetite now. I’m lying in the super comfortable king size bed, with sheets and pillows so soft I could melt into them. The hotel provided all the toiletries I’d need, and I got the chance to shave myself for the first time in ten years. That was an unexpected pleasure.

  I’m looking through all of the items that were in my personal possession the first time I was taken to prison. I have a useless, twelve year old phone, and my wallet, with forty-five dollars, my California drivers’ license, and my bank cards that have all been cancelled I’m sure. The pictures are all still in there, though. The kids baby pictures, mine and Lucy’s wedding picture, and a picture of Max in his first soccer outfit. Those cleats were so small. And then there are the professional studio photos that Lucy wanted, of the four of us a few months after Lauren was born. God, we looked so young, and without a care in the world. Lauren wouldn’t calm down unless I held her.

  The suit I wore to court is in a separate bag, and inside the inner pocket of my jacket are the snapshots I carried with me, to remind me of what I had to stay strong for. Burke was holding one of them when he interrupted earlier. Max and Lauren were on each hip, and they were each kissing one of my cheeks. I don’t understand why Lani got so upset when she saw it. I’ll never understand women. Never.

  I pull the phone number Lauren gave me out of my pocket, and dial the number. Screw them if they get mad that I called a long distance number. They owe me.

  “Hello?” A young man answers the phone, and I smile when I hear his voice.

  “Max?” I chuckle. “Max, is that you?”

  “Who is this?” he asks, and I wonder how much Lauren has told him.

  “Is your sister there? Did she talk to you?” I don’t want to just say, I’m your dad, if he thinks Ferris is his father. Fuck Lucy for terminating my rights, and allowing her husband to adopt them.

  And then, he sobs, “Dad?”

  “Yea, Max, it’s your dad. How are you?”

  “Oh, my God. My mom told me you were dead, that you’d died in the war.”

  “I guess you haven’t seen the news, or Lauren hasn’t talked to you. She found me, and gave me this number.” I don’t really know how to explain everything that’s happened on a phone call.

  “Lauren gave you my cell phone number?” He sounds shocked for a moment. “She gave you my cell phone number, so you’d call me. How did she find you? How did she even know you were her dad? Mom never told her about you, and after a while I stopped asking. Lauren didn’t remember you at all.”

  “I don’t know, really. She said she looked me up on the internet when she saw me on the news. She said she just knew I was her dad. Crazy, huh?” I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “She’s super smart. She’s a genius. She’s in all these gifted programs, and shit.”

  “Max, you’re swearing?” I make my voice firm, but not too firm.

  “Sorry, Dad. I’m seventeen, not twelve.” He scoffs. Damn, teenage attitude. I’m going to be thrown right into that. “Yea, but she’s going to be starting college classes in the spring, while also going to high school. She might have a high school diploma and a college degree.”

  “Wow, that’s really incredible. But how are you, Max? How are you doing? How are your grades?”

  “Um…” he stammers. “They’re not good.”

  “I’m sorry, Max. I wish I’d been there for you.” Then I pause, because I don’t want to lay all of this on a seventeen year old boy. But he has to know the truth. He has to know I didn’t abandon him.

  “Hold on, Lauren’s knocking on my door.” I hear them talking, but I can’t really understand what they’re saying. “She handed me the news story to read. She wants to talk to you.” He pauses again, and says, “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

  “Me too, bud. I love you.”

  “Here’s Lauren,” he says, and I think he might be crying.

  “Hey, Dad,” she says the word dad hesitantly. “Mom doesn’t know we’re talking to you. She still hasn’t even told me you exist. She’s such a bitch.”

  “Language,” I say gently. But I agree, she is a bitch.

  “Sorry I threw you and Max together like that, but I didn’t know how to tell him without sounding crazy.” I hear it. I hear the intelligence in her voice. I beam with pride. I don’t think I’ve ever been this proud in my life.

  “It’s okay. He remembers me, I think. Maybe a little.”

  “Dad, Mom’s here, and I don’t want her to know we’re talking to you. We’ll call you later, okay? Hide that,” she says, I guess to her brother.

  “I love you, baby.” God, it feels so good saying it to my kids.

  “Okay, Dad. Take care. Talk soon. Bye.” Then the line goes dead.

  I lie on my bed, looking at their photos, and begin to cry again. But it’s only for a few minutes, because someone knocks on my door. I stride toward it, wiping my cheeks as I do, and say, “Hey, can I please get…” Lani’s phone number, I was going to say. But she’s standing there in front of me. And she looks gorgeous.

  She’s got a sheepish grin on her lips, as she says, “Hi.” But her eyes grow wide when she notices my cheeks. “You look great, by the way.”

  I stand there, just looking at her, for several moments.
She’s wearing shorts that are so short they should be illegal, and a sweat jacket zipped half way, to emphasize her tiny waist and firm breasts. She’s wearing a tank top underneath, and it’s showing way too much of her cleavage. I’m too stunned to speak.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure, sorry.” I nod, and move aside. “Does Burke know you’re here?”

  “Yea, I cleared it with the boss.” She glances at one of the guards, and he nods, as he’s looking at her ass.

  “Get in here,” I groan, and shut the door as soon as she’s inside. She has a bag over her shoulder, and she sets it on the couch and pulls out a bottle of wine.

  “Killian says it’s okay,” she says, as she places it on the coffee table. She glances at the desk, and sees the two empty bottles of beer. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

  “I’m fine, drink your wine.” I grab my bottle of water and walk closer toward her. As she walks into the kitchen, I follow her. I feel a bit like a stalker, especially since now I’m the one looking at her ass. Every fucking inch of her is perfect. Especially her ass.

  She’s doing normal things, opening the wine, pouring a glass, and all I can think about is getting inside her. Is it ever going to wear off? Is there ever going to be a time when I look at her and I don’t have a raging hard-on?

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” she says, after she takes a sip of wine that’s as pink as her lips. She’s wearing a shiny gloss, and blush, and eye make-up that makes her eyes even more stunning. I might pass out from loss of blood to the brain. I involuntarily lick my lips. I just want to taste her. “I reacted badly earlier, and it was so fucking selfish of me.”