by Cherrie Lynn
“Candace!” both her parents bellowed in unison. Even Michelle’s eyes grew to the size of salad plates. Jameson, holding his tongue so far, crossed his arms and stared at the ground, frowning. She knew better than to expect any help from that quarter.
“Listen to me!” She ticked off on her fingers. “I have a four-point-oh, I’m not out getting myself knocked up, I don’t drink, I’m not doing drugs! I am freakishly boring. All because of you, and not wanting to embarrass you, and being terrified of what you might think or say or do to me. I do everything for you. But I don’t want to be a freaking school teacher. Please get off my ass about that. Do you want me to be miserable my entire life?”
“I’m sorry to say you’re on the fast track for that, considering the lowlifes you’re keeping with—”
“Lowlifes? I always wondered what you’d say if you knew your precious Stephen tried to sexually assault me at Deanne’s graduation party. You want to talk about lowlifes?”
“Oh, Candace, please.”
“He did, Aunt Syl.” Michelle’s voice was quiet, but firm. “We had to pull him off her. I told him to leave, but he wouldn’t, and none of the guys would stand up for her and make him go. I brought her straight home, but she didn’t want to tell you what happened.”
Her mother’s demeanor cracked, just a little. Not enough to give her any hope of a change. Then Jameson spoke up. “Aw, hell, he’d had too much to drink. We all had. Stop blowing it out of proportion, Candace. You were only in a roomful of people.”
Michelle looked as if she were grinding her teeth into dust.
“That’s something else,” her mother said, fired up all over again. “I know you still run around with that Sanders girl, with the alcoholic mother—”
“Don’t bring Sam into this! She has nothing whatsoever to do with it.”
Sylvia swept on, unheeded. “And this new development…” She glanced at Michelle. “I’m just stunned.”
Michelle planted both hands on her hips, her voice suddenly blasting through the continuing argument and commanding attention without her having to make a single move. “Hey! Stop it right now, and someone tell me what’s going on. Aunt Syl, you made that comment at the table, and ever since this conversation started, everyone has been throwing me these weird, secretive looks and I can’t take it anymore. What is going on?”
Candace turned to face her dear cousin, the words piling up in her throat until she almost choked on them. She had to spit them out before they strangled her. “Michelle, it’s Brian.” She drew a sobbing breath as Michelle only looked confused. “Brian is the person I was seeing, for all of two nights. He’s one of the ‘lowlifes’ my mother is talking about. I’m sorry, and I love you, but I love him too. I have ever since you introduced us. All I can tell you is that nothing ever happened between us while you two were together, and I’ll swear that on anything you want to put in front of me. This has all only happened in the last couple of weeks.” She threw a glance at her parents. “When I went to him to get a tattoo.”
Sylvia stepped back, and Phillip grabbed her as if he expected her to pass out. She even fluttered a hand up to her throat. “You did what?”
Candace felt her lips curl with a little more wicked glee than she should probably be displaying at the moment. “I would show it to you right now, Mother, but it might violate a few public decency laws.”
Michelle ran one hand through her hair, holding it back off her forehead for a moment. It was her signature gesture of distress. Candace immediately regretted her careless words for her cousin’s sake, but she enjoyed the stricken horror both her parents were wearing. Someone could have just told them she’d died. No…actually, they probably wouldn’t have been as upset over her demise.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly to Michelle. “I…” Fumbling, she gave up. “Please don’t hate me.”
Jameson scoffed, shaking his head. “You girls must really enjoy scraping the bottom of the barrel, messing around with that one.”
“James,” Michelle snapped as Candace’s mouth fell open.
“You have the audacity to say that about him while you defend the scum sitting in there?”
“Don’t forget I went to school with that no-good punk. When he wasn’t living half his life in detention, that is, or his parents weren’t shipping him off somewhere. Bad enough he was with you, Michelle, but I’ll be damned if he’s going to get his hands on my baby sister. I’ll beat his ass into next week.”
Candace tried to keep her cool, though she saw red, especially when she noticed the all-too-pleased smile on her mother’s face. “Oh, please, Jameson, he’d wrap you into a pretzel.”
Michelle smirked her agreement as the door swung open. Deanne flew out, her eyes nightmarish, seeking and finding Candace with unnerving precision. The sweet Southern belle act was long gone, and in its place was the true bridezilla Candace knew she could be. Deanne plowed between Candace’s parents to face her front and center. “I’ve just now stemmed the freaking riot in there, Candace. What in the hell are you trying to prove, pulling that stunt at my rehearsal dinner? Are you trying to ruin this for me?”
“Hey.” Michelle, ever the referee, grabbed her arm. “Lay off her. Candace, go home. I’m not mad at you, honey, but it’s best if you leave.”
More tears spilled, dripping on her blouse, as the five of them stood there looking at her. Michelle’s gaze was the only one that wasn’t openly hostile. But her mouth was set in a grim line, and there was a troubled wrinkle between her brows. God, of them all, she couldn’t have Michelle hate her. She couldn’t.
Deanne crossed her arms and eased her defensive stance a bit. “Whatever. I don’t know what’s wrong, and I don’t care. But if one more thing goes foul in this wedding, I’m going to shoot first and pull my freaking hair out by the roots later. Candace, do you think you can manage to be at the church by two tomorrow? That’s two p.m., honey. Just so we’re clear.”
“Deanne,” Michelle said with a warning tone.
Candace didn’t wait to hear more. The hurt was settling deep into a dark, scary part of her soul she didn’t dare examine too often. A part of her that wanted to wreak all the havoc she possibly could to the ones who had hurt her. She turned and walked toward her car, taking slow, deliberate steps so as not to break into a sprint. Good thing she’d left her purse in the car. There was no way in hell she was stepping foot back in that house again.
Her parents obviously had nothing else to say to her. She wondered if she was finally officially disowned. It had always seemed so inevitable, it was almost a relief to get it over with. Popping open her car door, she turned her sore, half-blind eyes toward the brightly lit house and saw that Michelle had soundlessly followed her. Pausing half in and half out of her car, Candace just looked at her.
“Well, he’s certainly taught you to cuss. Did you sleep with him?” Michelle asked. Somehow she’d known that was the question that was coming, now that they had a moment away from everyone else. There was no malice in her tone whatsoever, and her expression showed nothing more than concern. But there was a flatness in her voice that broke Candace down even more. “Tell me the truth. I won’t be mad. I’m worried about you.”
She couldn’t have lied to Michelle at that moment even if the answer had been yes. “He…stayed with me one night, but it didn’t go that far.”
Michelle’s eyebrows rose. “Really. Well, if that’s true, I’m impressed. Candace…” Sighing, Michelle pushed her hair back again, her other hand on her hip. “Listen, sweetie, I realize your experience with men is limited. And that’s your business. Just keep in mind, please, that they come and go, especially that one. That’ll be the case for probably the next few years of your life, as you get out there more. They might not be there from one day to the next, but your family will. I’d hate to see you drive us all away only to find yourself alone on all sides one day. Don’t destroy something permanent for something fleeting.”
“At the moment, it seems they�
��re fleeting too. But even if they weren’t, I can’t see trading what he makes me feel for what they just did. I’ll take five minutes with him over a lifetime with them any day. There’s no contest. I think I just now came to that realization, but there you go.”
Michelle sighed. “Fair enough. Look, I wish things could be different for you. I always have. I’ll try to talk to them tonight, but they’re pretty unreachable. It didn’t work when I was with him, either.”
“Did they do something to sabotage you two?”
Her cousin’s lips thinned out a bit, tilting up at one corner. “They like to think they bribed me away. But the truth is, Brian and I were already over, and I could sense that. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been anything they could do.”
“I see. Don’t bother talking to them. You’re right, it won’t matter. I’ll see you later.”
Dropping the rest of the way into the car seat, she slammed the door and cranked the ignition. Michelle watched her for a moment before turning to head back in for the remainder of the festivities.
Her cousin had taken it reasonably well. Candace should be relieved that part was over and done with, but she wasn’t. Her insides felt shredded. The exhaustion that settled over her wasn’t sudden, because she’d been feeling it for days. It was more acute now without the adrenaline rushing through her blood.
Tomorrow, oh, God. Tomorrow. Walking down the aisle to stand next to the woman who’d just belittled her. Walking out beside a guy who might have raped her if no one had bothered to intervene. Not only that, but her parents actually expected her to spend the weekend with him at the lake house? Where she would be fighting off his wandering hands and her mother’s matchmaking for two whole days? She doubted his invitation would be rescinded for something so insignificant as mauling her. Why, that might be rude.
A fresh flood of tears blinded her, and she had to pull over before she’d even gotten to the end of the winding driveway. It was fifteen minutes before the violence of her sobs subsided. By then she hurt all over: her shoulders, her chest, her stomach…especially her stomach. She pulled out onto the road only to ditch it after half a mile to throw open her door and retch. Crying that much had always made her sick.
No one called her cell phone. No one tried to check on her. When she reached her apartment, there were no messages on her machine. Sam would be available if she wanted to talk, but despite her need for someone to care, she didn’t really want to interact. Macy was definitely not someone she needed to hear from right now, since she usually sided with the “well meaning” family. Candace snorted as she pulled PJs from a drawer. If Macy loved them so much, and vice versa, it was unfortunate she hadn’t grown up with them.
Truthfully, there was only one person she needed to hear from tonight. But he wasn’t available, hadn’t been since that night in his truck two weeks ago. So quickly, she’d found him and lost him again.
As she crawled into bed, she pulled the pillow Brian had slept on over the top of her own and let her tears leak helplessly onto it. Whimpered his name stupidly like a child needing her security blanket.
The damned misery of it was that she was defending a relationship she didn’t even have. It would be entirely different if Brian had been here waiting when she got home, if he’d opened his arms and taken her to bed and snuggled her close all night. The shit with her family would have been bearable. Hell, she might not have even cared all that much, it would’ve been more of the same. If she’d only known he loved her.
She’d brought her cell phone to bed with her, and now she flipped it open, squinting at the sudden brightness of the display in the dark of her room. She rubbed the tip of her thumb over the keypad. A phone number was like the combination to a safe, he’d said, being silly. What in the hell would she find if she cracked this particular one open? If she called him and asked him to come over, told him how much and how desperately she needed him tonight?
He would probably laugh. No telling what he’d been up to lately. What would he even want with her, the naïve virgin, when he could have his pick of women far more experienced and mature? Women who wouldn’t almost come all over themselves just because he laid a finger on them. He must think she was truly pathetic.
Snapping her phone closed, she flung it to the floor and flopped on her stomach, begging sleep to come. But sleep was being as pissy as everyone else in her life. She saw every hour on the clock even though she had to look fresh and beautiful like a perfect freaking princess for Deanne’s wedding.
By morning, she was ten times as exhausted as the night before. It was only as she shuffled into the kitchen in a stumbling haze that she remembered she was out of coffee.
Today, of all days.
Well, it was a no-brainer. Any other time she might suffer through. But if she didn’t get caffeine inside her body now, they were going to find her out roaming the streets, grabbing people’s heads and moaning, “Braaaiins.”
Not even bothering to change out of her T-shirt and plaid pajama pants, or fix her sloppy ponytail, she slid on her flip-flops, grabbed her purse and hit the door.
Chapter Thirteen
“Too fucking early, dude. What are we leaving so early for?” Ghost caught his yawn with one hand and hauled the bag of ice he was carrying up on the open tailgate of Brian’s truck with the other.
Brian, standing in the bed, grabbed it and gave it a few hard slams against the side to break up the ice before dumping it in the cooler. “Because I want to get there when the gates open.”
“When is that?”
“Two.”
“Then why the hell are we up at the ass crack of dawn?”
“It’s eight-thirty! Stop whining or I’ll take your ass back home. It’ll be noon by the time we get to Dallas if we leave by nine. That doesn’t leave us much time to chill out at Marco’s before we go. Crack open those twelve packs.”
Grumbling to himself, Ghost ripped open the first and began tossing beer cans to Brian one by one. He shoved them as deep in the ice as they could go. It was shaping up to be a scorcher of a day. Even now, the sun was beating down unmercifully on the grocery store parking lot where they stood. Icy cold beverages were going to be a necessity. But it wasn’t all beer, and it damn sure wasn’t for the road. He could just imagine getting pulled over with open alcohol containers in the vehicle. His brother would bury him; it was a fight they had all the time. And Evan thought Brian never listened to him.
Ghost grabbed the next in line, a pack of Dr. Pepper, as Brian watched with a smirk.
“I hope you have sunscreen to rub on that head of yours. You look like a cue ball standing out here.”
“Fuck you, dude. We’re not at work today. I don’t have to put up with your stupid bullshit.”
Brian laughed and, for the first time in two weeks, felt it was genuine. “Will the UV rays bounce right off? Is that your plan?”
“I swear to God…” The soda cans came more forcefully this time, some of them aimed right at his head. The bastard was quick too. Brian had to duck the last one, and it clattered in the bed of the truck. “Oops, sorry.”
“Watch it, motherfu—”
“Hey, hey! Don’t look, man. But I think that’s your little honey sitting over there watching us.”
“My wha…” Completely ignoring his order not to look, Brian twisted around to look in the direction Ghost was staring…only to spot Candace’s blue Camry sitting on the next aisle a few cars down, facing them. She was sitting in it, and jerked her gaze away when it connected with his. Her door popped open and she jumped out, looking adorably disheveled, and hurried toward the store.
It was just how she’d looked that morning she’d rolled out of bed after tumbling around with him most of the night. Except then she’d been gloriously naked too.
“Shit,” Brian grumbled as she disappeared inside. “I did not need to see that.” He shot a look at Ghost. “How did you know about her?”
“Starla told me you were sweatin’ after some piece who
’d come in a couple of weeks ago. It wasn’t too hard to figure out which one she was. Never seen you slip your number to a client before.”
He wanted to tell him to watch his mouth, that Candace was far more to him than a “piece”, but it really was impossible to shut Ghost up and Brian didn’t feel like being tortured about her for the rest of the day. “You’re one observant bastard, aren’t you? So why can’t you ever memorize the work schedule so I don’t have to call you every night and ask where the hell you are?”
Ghost gave him an exasperated look. He held out both palms as if weighing something in each. “Dude. Work. Women. There’s a distinction, see it?”
“Yeah, but you need work to get the women, or else you’ll be sitting on your broke ass alone. Keep that in mind.”
“Can we go or what?”
“Just a minute.”
An alarm was sounding in the back of Brian’s mind. Candace had looked…troubled. For appearing to have just rolled out of bed, she also looked as if she hadn’t slept in days.
Was she that torn up over him? Or was it something else? Shit. He’d only in the past day or so managed to get his mind off her for more than five minutes. He’d figured it would take her even less time, after the way she’d rebuffed him. But she hadn’t looked good.
When she emerged from the store carrying a single sack, he openly scrutinized her and found that it was far worse than he’d initially thought. Even from this distance, he could see how puffy and red-rimmed her eyes were. She could’ve just had a crying jag in the store, for the way she looked.
Grasping the side of the truck bed, he bounded out and landed lightly on his feet. Ghost made some grumbling, obviously smart-ass comment he didn’t catch. He was already headed toward her, never mind that she quickened her pace as if she were going to attempt to run from him. Again. This time, he wasn’t letting her get far.
Panic swelling in her chest, Candace strode directly for the sanctuary of her car, but he got there at the same time she did and grabbed her hand as she reached for the door handle. Horrified, she realized she was about five seconds away from total meltdown. His fingers were warm and familiar and so comforting…