Without Regret (Broken Roads Book 1)

by Cat Mason

  “That’s bullshit. There has to be other options. A second opinion?” I reply.

  “We can’t let this happen,” she sobs into the phone.

  “I’m coming home,” I say without hesitation.

  “You are?” she hiccups. Taking a deep breath, I can hear her softly counting to ten to calm herself down.

  “Yes,” I reply. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Hanging up, I force myself to hold it together. My number one priority is getting Alyssa and me home to St. Louis. I need to be with my family. Besides, there is nothing holding me here in North Carolina anymore. Going to the hall closet, I grab our suitcases. Once I quietly pack the baby’s things, I sneak into the bedroom to begin sorting my own.

  Tim is wrapped in the comforter long ways across the bed. My heart aches, knowing that we don’t have the relationship that I so desperately want. The exact thing my Mom will be giving up if my Dad dies. They are a poster board model of what it looks like to be incredibly in love. Always touching, laughing and kissing. After nearly thirty years together they have never lost that playful infatuation with each other. What I have with Tim is nothing like that, so why the hell have I been fighting so hard for it?

  The thought of walking away seems like the only option now. It’s crystal clear that, even if Dad wasn’t sick, I can’t stay here anymore. It is what is best for Alyssa and me. I want him to know that I have found my backbone and that I refuse to live this way any longer.

  After placing our bags by the door, I dress in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. It may be March, but in North Carolina weather is unpredictable. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I take a breath and nudge Tim.

  Groaning he rolls over, “What?”

  “We need to talk and this can’t wait,” I blurt out, knowing that he is pissed that I have woken him up.

  Yanking the cover from his face, he glares at me. “You’re waking me up to talk? Oh, this better be fucking important, woman. That’s all I know.”

  I take a deep breath, determined not to let him get to me again. This time I will find my voice. “My sister called.”

  “What did that bitch want?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

  “Dad’s sick. They need me so I’m going home,” I say pushing back the emotions those words bring to the surface. Part of me wishes he would comfort me, to give me one ounce of the love and support I have given him, but Tim won’t do that. I have learned not to expect it anymore.

  His eyes harden, his lips pressing into a hard line. “As usual, you’re giving me no notice. You make plans and I’m what? Supposed to just roll with it? I can’t take time off with such short notice.”

  “I know. I also didn’t ask you,” I nod, attempting to hide the sarcasm in my voice. “Everything the baby and I need is packed, just throw out the rest, I guess.”

  “Why the hell would I do that?” he snaps. Leaning up in bed, he glares at me angrily.

  This is where I would usually buckle. That all too familiar feeling creeps over me, making me want to recoil and hide.

  Lie down, little doormat. Run from the confrontation because you’re too weak to fight back.

  I don’t want all the yelling, or the tears. But, the look on his face tells me it is far too late for that now. Taking a deep breath, I cling to every ounce of strength I have and do the one thing I should have done a long time ago.

  I let him have it.

  “Just facing the truth. You should be thanking me. Hell, it’s about time we lay it all out, I think. You don’t want me, don’t need me. Hell, I don’t even think you fuckin’ like me. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time it felt like we were an actual couple. It’s best we make a clean break now. No awkwardness. No mess. Alyssa and I will be out of your hair.”

  He laughs at my outburst. Sitting up in bed, he stares at me in wonder. The comforter slumps around his waist; there was a time when I would ache for him when he looked like this. Not today. The anger has officially bubbled over the surface to a point where I can’t push it back into the bottle and seal it again. I realize that what we had was never love. This is not the same man I started dating three years ago. The Tim that I fell in love with no longer exists. Now all I feel for him is resentment and sadness for wasted time.

  “Wow. I thought you were done pouting,” he chuckles. “I thought before I took care of that.”

  That’s what it always comes back to with Tim. We fight; he calls me a baby, among other things, and then threatens to throw us out. Not even an hour later, he is all about his good time as if nothing ever happened. Nothing ever resolves or gets discussed further. No emotions and definitely no apologies.

  He was livid when I found out I was pregnant. Instantly, he started barking orders. In true doormat fashion, I heeled like a damn puppy. I quit my job, moved in with him and became the ‘little woman’ without the wedding ring that he wanted so badly. Well, that is over and done.

  I am all for a rebellion. It’s time for Rachel’s last stand

  Shaking my head, I square my shoulders and continue. “Tim, I don’t know what changed and when, specifically, but I do know I’m fed up with it. I don’t like what I’ve become, what we have become. You’ve belittled me into this doormat. I won’t live like this anymore,” I say gesturing between us.

  His face unchanged, he sighs. “You know how I feel. Go on, if that’s what you want. Really not that much of a loss,” he grounds out, rolling over in the bed and clutching a pillow. “I’m going to bed. Lock up on your way out, will ya?”

  “I can’t say that I’m surprised that you have no intention of going to say goodbye to your own daughter,” I mutter. “You really are a cold-hearted bastard sometimes.”

  “Like she would know either way.” His comment should make me angry, but I feel pity for him. He can’t even see what he is missing out on.

  “She may not, but you do. Your loss,” I bite out. “Pleasant dreams.”

  Once I have loaded my car with our bags, I strap the baby into her carrier. Taking one last look at the place, I blow out a breath, square my shoulders, and walk out with my head held high.

  I refuse to be weak another damn day in my life.

  Chapter 2

  After nearly twelve hours of driving with a very cranky baby, the St. Louis Arch finally comes into view. Most of the drive I spent analyzing the last three years of my life. Somewhere in Illinois, I decided to say fuck it and try my best, from here on out, to let go. It’s not like Tim is crying into his beer. His loss. I could dwell on the nights I cried myself to sleep, but what good would that do? I will not spend any more of my life discontented. I deserve better than that. Starting now, I will make it my mission to find something for myself that makes me happy.

  Pulling into the driveway, I take in my childhood home. The two-story brick house has not changed in the three years it’s been since I’ve been home. Sure, my parents visited when they could, and even Kate made the trip a few times, but not me.

  The minute I climb out of the car, Kate comes running out the door. “Hey,” I say, yawning.

  “Mine! Mine! Mine!” she squeals, shoving around me to get the baby.

  “Brat,” my mom huffs at her, walking toward me. “Rachel.” Her brown eyes go misty when she reaches me. “You’re really here, aren’t you?” Pulling her into a hug, all I can do is nod.

  “I told you I’d beat you out here,” Kate beams. “You really should be more careful on those steps, Granny. Can’t have you breakin’ a hip.”

  Smug as hell, she heads into the house, leaving Mom and I to follow behind. Since I drove all night, I don’t exactly feel like having a family reunion just yet. Leaving Alyssa with my sister, so that I can maybe catch a nap, I make her promise to come get me if she has any issues with my little girl. Yanking the diaper bag from my hand, she laughs. “I can take care of my niece. Go get some rest. I’ll bring her up when she falls asleep so we can catch up.”

  Nodding reluctantly, I make my way upstairs to my old room. Opening
the door, I am shocked when I see that nothing has been touched. Boy band posters and photos have all been left hanging on the wall as if I never left. Like they always knew I would come back. The only addition is a portable crib for Alyssa in the corner. Kicking off my shoes, I climb under the covers with a grin and drift to sleep.

  Alyssa crying wakes me from my nap. Climbing from the bed, I wander downstairs to soothe my upset baby girl. “Listen at the lungs on you!” my Dad says with pride. Walking into the kitchen, I see him bouncing and swaying in front of the sink with her. “We better go wake up Momma; you’re hungry, huh?”

  “She already did.” Walking up to him, I push up on my toes and kiss his cheek. “Hi, Dad.”

  He smiles at me, but it lacks the usual oomph. Even if Kate had not called me, I can easily see that he is sick. His green eyes are sunken in, his skin feels clammy and cold. Even though he has clearly lost a good amount of weight, his face and hands are so swollen. If I am being honest, I am pretty shocked that Mom and Kate didn’t call me sooner. It is not like Dad is doing a good job hiding his deteriorating condition. “How do you feel, Dad?”

  “I’ll only say this once.” Handing me Alyssa, he shrugs me off. “I’m glad you girls are home where you belong, but we’re not doing this, Rachel.”

  “I just don’t want you to give up,” I argue. “That’s all.”

  Cupping my cheek, he frowns, “Listen, none of us are promised tomorrow. Nothing anyone says or does is going to change how much time I have left. It’s too late for a transplant to help me now. The doctor isn’t even sure I’d survive the surgery. I knew all of this, Rachel, and I accept it. So will all of you.” Without another word, he walks out into the garage, closing the door behind him.

  Silent tears slip down my cheeks as I walk back up to my bedroom to feed Alyssa. My father, who has always been this determined fighter, is laying down his gloves mid-fight? I can’t believe it. How could he think any of us would just be okay with this shit? Losing him would be like removing a supporting wall in the house. Everything will fall apart.

  Kate breezes into the room like she owns the world and flops onto the bed beside me. “Hey, so after you finish being the human bottle you wanna come help me?”

  “And what the hell could you possibly need my help with,” I ask scowling at her.

  “Mom is booked to cater an auction today, but she doesn’t want to leave Dad.” Peeking around the corner, she eyes the doorway and grins. “More like she doesn’t want to leave the baby and I got nominated to fill in. If I am being forced to suffer through this shit, I demand we suffer as a team.”

  My eyes widen, “I can’t leave Alyssa. She’ll need to eat before we can get back,” I reply. “I don’t know, Kate.”

  “Don’t you have a pumpy-thingy?” she asks, scrunching her nose.

  Her face makes me laugh. “Yes, I have a pumpy-thingy.” Looking down at my baby, I shake my head. “I don’t want to work concessions at an auction tonight, Kate.”

  “Woman, you’re preachin’ to the choir,” she says, waving her hand. “I’d much rather be out finding me a cute guy to play with. Instead, I’m stuck serving foot long wieners to old men. Don’t you wanna hand out wieners?” Cue pout. “Please, Rach. Please!” she begs, bouncing up and down on the edge of the bed.

  “Alright!” Knowing this is going nowhere fast; I sigh and give in. “Just stop before you rattle my kid’s brain loose or something,” I shriek, clinging to the baby. “Jeez, when did you become such a brat?” I tease, rolling my eyes.

  Satisfied, Kate jumps off the bed. “Be fast, we leave in half an hour,” she tosses out, running from the room before I can argue.

  After pumping so my mother can feed the baby, I change my clothes. Once I have Alyssa changed, I swaddle her in a blanket. Grabbing my bag, I pick up Alyssa and head downstairs.

  Mom and Dad are in the den snuggled up on the couch watching the news, while Kate is packing up the car. With Dad retired, my Mom has been running concessions for a local auction company, for a few years now, as something extra to pass the time. The auctions are held at different venues each time, usually at the estate owner’s property. Knowing this, we have to leave early enough to figure out where to set up so that we have availability to the crowd, while also having access to water and electricity.

  After kissing all over my baby girl, I sadly hand her over to my Mom and give her the low down on feeding and anything else I can think of. Okay, I may be stalling too. Amused with my rambling, she just shakes her head. “Rach, I think after raising you and your sister, your father and I should have no problem handling our granddaughter for a few hours.”

  I barely get to nod before Kate grabs my arm and drags me out the door. Drumming her thumbs against the steering wheels, she watches me out of the corner of her eye as we pull out onto the street. She sighs heavily. Oh boy. Here it comes. My nosy sister has shit to say.

  Shifting to face her, I throw up my hands. “Would you just spit it out already?”

  “Thank God,” she breathes, sounding relieved. “I was about to lose my shit. I promised Mom I would butt out until you brought it up,” she explains, beginning to ramble. “I can’t wait another second!” Glancing over, she studies me carefully. “I know something is up with you.”

  Closing my eyes, I press my fingers to my temples. Taking a deep breath, I say the three words I have yet to say out loud. “I left Tim.”

  “Hot damn! I knew it!” she exclaims. “Well, spill it, sister. I want to know everything. Did you put that bastard’s balls in a jar? I didn’t want to tell you, but I couldn’t stand that tool. The man is a rancid piece of shit if I ever saw one.”

  “Listen, this is the last thing I wanna talk about. It’s over. Can’t we just leave it at that and drop it?

  Kate growls at me, “I’ll put this damn car in park right now, in the middle of the fucking highway. I know you. When you’re not happy it shows like a damn neon sign. You were not fucking happy with that asshole,” she snaps. Tightening her grip on the steering wheel, she presses her glossy pink lips into a hard line. The look on her face, silently assuring me that she will lock this car up on the damn bridge and block traffic for miles if necessary.

  “Okay, okay. You’re right,” I admit, before breaking down and telling her the entire mess.

  Kate slams her hands on the wheel, “I can’t believe the nerve of him! A clean break? That’s what you said? I’ll give that whorenugget a clean fucking break. You’re not going back to him,” she says, barely able to reign in her temper as she weaves in and out of traffic. “I will staple you to the dining room chair if you even so much as mention the idea.”

  “I have no reason to go back to North Carolina, Kate. Or Tim. Everything’s fine, really,” I smile, so she will change the subject. Looking at me, she arches her eyebrow, silently calling bullshit. “Okay, how about this; it will be fine.”

  Nodding her head, she lets out a breath. “Okay. I can live with that.”

  The house the auction is being held at is an old, run-down split foyer. From what the paper says, it is an estate of a man whose children couldn’t divide the assets after his death. Causing a judge to rule to sell it all off and split it down the middle. The thought of fighting with Kate during such a tragic time is haunting. Naturally, you would want to pull those you have left closer, right?

  Shaking off the painful scenario, I get out and start helping Kate set up the tables in the corner of the large three car garage. While Kate arranges the crockpots for nachos and chili and the hot dog machine on the tables, I get the coolers for drinks set up so that we can maneuver around them easily. Once that’s done, Kate plops her ass down onto one of the coolers, suggesting that I begin the task of plugging everything into surge protector. Rolling my eyes, and flipping her off, I carefully begin the task of running the heavy-duty extension cord along the wall so that no one trips over it.

  When the bidding starts some of the crowd get a little excited. There are people who liv
e for baseball or football games, well, these people live for the rush of winning a bidding war. That shit you see on television is real.

  Black Friday at Wal-Mart doesn’t have shit on a real estate auction full of old men and their pension checks.

  Reaching up onto my toes, I lean over a waist high bench to reach the wall. Just as I plug into the outlet, I am bumped off balance by the shifting crowd. Overcorrecting my footing, I get bumped again and tumble backwards. My breath comes out of me in a rush as my ass hits the hard concrete floor with a teeth rattling thud.

  “Just call me Grace,” I groan, quickly taking stock of my aching body.

  Nervously, I look around hoping no one witness my gravitational blunder. Lucky for me, the crowd seems occupied looking through the tables of items up for bid.

  Starting to stand, I look up and meet a pair of blue eyes. Well over six-foot tall, his hair is a dark auburn and just long enough that he has spiked it up with some kind of gel. Even through the jeans and hooded pullover he has on, I can tell he has a great body. My eyes wander, taking in the way his jeans stretch across his thighs and, suddenly, my mouth is drier than the Sahara Desert. Flashing me a million-dollar smile, he bends at the waist and touches a finger to my chin, closingmy gaping mouth.

  “Shouldn’t leave that open like that. You’ll catch flies,” he teases, grabbing my hands and hauling me to my feet.

  “Yeah, um, sorry,” I murmur, feeling the blush spread across my face. “I was trying to get the cords hooked up. Someone knocked me off balance and,” I stammer, my eyes drawn to the grin on his face.

  “Yeah,” he nods, stepping closer. The smell of his cologne has my mind spinning. He smells like heat, spice, and everything nice. The kind of nice that makes good girls do very, very stupid things. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

  Incapable of normal speech, I just nod again. Yes, he knocked my off balance in more ways than one. Still clutching his hand, I look down and can feel my heart begin to race. Wow. Pulling away, I smile. “I, um, need to get back to my sister. I can’t leave her to run the concessions all alone.”