by Wendy Byrne
Jillian gobbled up the diminishing air in the room and tried to breathe. Could she tell anyone, especially a near stranger, about her parents? Maybe she should take a chance.
“They were functioning alcoholics. They went to work every day—my dad was a judge, my mom a school teacher—but as soon as they got home, they started drinking. I don’t remember it being an issue for me until I got older and realized they had a problem.” She bit back the tears. “When I went away to college I made them swear they wouldn’t drive after they’d been drinking. They pretty much did their drinking after hours but I still worried. They went out for their anniversary and died in a car accident. The driver in the other car was injured but not seriously. ” She couldn’t stop the tears that fell as the memories sluiced through. “It was a mess. My father was a pretty famous and well-respected judge. Not only was I grieving but there was a problem with the insurance being invalid because they were driving under the influence and all that stuff I didn’t want to face as a twenty-year-old.”
He slipped his arm about her shoulders. “And Archie was there to help?”
She hung her head. It was the one thing he would never let her forget. Was she ready to divulge the good, the bad and the ugly yet? “Luckily there was enough money in their accounts and in the equity of the house to pay for all the damages. It just—to use one of Travis’ favorite phrases—sucked big time. I didn’t want a scandal. I didn’t want to drag their reputations through the mud. I didn’t want to be alone.”
“And Archie was there to help you negotiate your way through.”
“I was mature for my age, but what twenty-year-old knows about that kind of stuff? It was crazy and I was completely overwhelmed. He swooped in and took over. I’m not sure what he did, but it all went away. That’s all I cared about at the time. Following him to California after graduation seemed like a way out from under the clouds.”
“And?”
“I was already pregnant with Travis.” When he raised his eyebrows she filled in the blanks. “If I hadn’t been pregnant, would I still have married Archie?” She shook her head. “Probably not. I was so young and moving to LA and marrying Archie seemed like an adventure. It turned out to be a nightmare.”
“How so?”
“I didn’t know anybody but Archie. All his friends were a lot older. Their wives seemed to instantly hate me. He was gone a lot.” Never in a million years would she want to relive those days. There had been so many times during her pregnancy when she’d wanted to pick up and leave, but the very idea had seemed terrifying. “When Travis was born, I felt renewed somehow. The one thing I don’t regret is having him.”
“And then?”
“We’d been drifting even further apart for a long time. He was gone on movie projects while I was home holding down the fort. I started to hear rumors about infidelity but ignored them for a long time. Then we started to fight about it. In the beginning he’d admit it and vow to never let it happen again. Then there was the next time. And the next. Then when I’d bring it up, he’d say it was my fault or that I was crazy jealous.” She laughed. “Somehow that seems funny to me now. I finally made up my mind that I would end the marriage when Travis entered college. But then Travis got into trouble and Archie did something that really pissed me off and I had no choice but to face the truth and move on.”
“Sounds tough, especially when you’re going through it alone.”
“It wasn’t easy. But it was a moment of clarity when I realized Archie resented me. He’d never wanted a family and Travis and I were like a weight around his neck. Sure it was nice to show us off occasionally, but basically a family was a little too high maintenance for his lifestyle.” She sucked in a breath, ready to change the subject. “How about you? Ever been married?”
“Nope. I was having way too much fun being the hotshot football star. I was a stud in college and went first round in the draft. I ended up having a great rookie season in the NFL and made it to the pro bowl. A couple years later everything fell apart.”
“What happened?” She’d done her homework on him and knew he had a successful college career as well as professional before everything came to a grinding halt. There was some wild speculation about drug use and all sorts of things, but she wanted to know the truth. For most of their time together conversation had been about Travis with some minor dabbling into her life. She knew very little about his past except what she’d read.
He grimaced. It took him a few seconds before he continued. “I tore my ACL during my third season.”
“Ouch. Lots of recovery time, right?”
“Surgery, then months of rehab,” he grimaced. “The problem was I got addicted to painkillers. It kind of snuck up on me. It started out with me needing them to get to sleep. Then I needed them during the day, and then I needed them to get out of bed in the morning. The season started and the first practice was brutal. My body ached like nothing I’d ever felt before, so I gobbled down painkillers, literally, before I left the locker room.”
She shook her head and grasped his hand. “How did you get yourself out of it?”
“Mama,” he smiled. “Yep, that woman saved me more than once. Getting off them wasn’t easy or pretty. I don’t know how that woman put up with me swearing and pissed off twenty-four/seven.”
“That would be because she loved you.”
“That’s what she kept telling me every time I tried to leave. I told her that I wasn’t going to be able to quit, that it was in my blood because of my mother.” He smiled. “She told me that was BS and ordered me back inside.”
“Must have been intense.”
“But then she said something I’ll never forget. She told me to stop demonizing my mother, that she was a good woman but had a problem. She said if it wasn’t for my mother, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to be my surrogate mom and if she ever saw my mother on the street, she’d give her a big hug for allowing her raise me.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And while at the time I wanted to correct her and say it was technically the state that had brought me there, I appreciated the sentiment. For the first time, I didn’t feel ashamed of what had happened to me.”
“Amazing story.” Jillian couldn’t help thinking about making peace with her own parental legacy. Maybe being away from Archie who loved to throw her parent’s alcoholism up to her, she might. “Have you been at Valley High since you left the NFL?”
He shook his head. “It took me a while to figure out that’s where I belonged.”
“Let me guess, Mama Iris again?”
He hung his head but had a broad smile. “It’s embarrassing. A grown ass man has to figure out about himself through his mama.”
“So you’re a mama’s boy.” She shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Speaking like someone who has a mama’s boy herself.”
“I bet you go there every Sunday for dinner, don’t you?” She sipped her beer.
“Most times. When Travis gets out, we should take him there.”
“Sounds like a wonderful idea.” It would be the first real sense of family Travis would experience. She could only hope that would happen soon.
Was it wrong to be so attracted to Sam Carter? This time was supposed to be about Travis. And it was. Except now Sam was sitting with her, eating Chinese and it felt more like a date than anything else. Then again, maybe it was about going back to that sense of normalcy that she craved. And, for a few moments, forgetting about all her troubles was like a slice of heaven.
Music swirled around them and drifted off into the trees. She wanted peace. She wanted oblivion.
“Dance with me, Sam.” She stood and pulled at his hand. “It makes me forget.”
“Wouldn’t dream of saying no.” He sucked her in tight by wrapping his arm around her waist and taking her hand.
She swayed with his body, enjoying the contact more than she could have possibly imagined. “My parents danced together every Saturday night. It was their ritual. From as young as I can r
emember, my father would dance with me, then take a turn with my mother. He always joked that he wished there could be two of him.”
“Sounds like nice family time.”
She nodded and placed her head on his shoulder. “I have really good memories of them, despite their addiction. I always knew they loved each other and they loved me more than anything else in the world.”
“That’s a good place for a kid to be.”
The swell of emotion wasn’t unexpected, but she’d suppressed it for so long it took her by surprise. Archie had never liked hearing her talk about her parents. It was as if he were embarrassed by them, although she could never understand why. Half of the people he schmoozed on a regular basis used alcohol or drugs every day of their lives.
But her parents had committed the ultimate sin in his book. They’d gotten caught.
Sam spun her away and brought her back with a flick of his wrist. She giggled like a kid and for once didn’t admonish herself for doing it.
“I thought football players had two left feet.”
“Ah ha, I’m the exception.” He nuzzled into her hair. “I hate to say it, but I owe it to Mama Iris. I’m sure you could tell she has music playing twenty-four/seven, at least when there isn’t a football game on TV. Every boy in that house she taught how to dance. We had a great time.”
“Another thing to thank Mama for.”
“It’s a pretty long list.”
“So what do you do when you’re not coaching football and showing off your great dance moves?”
He chuckled and she felt the rumble against her chest. “Watch way too much sports on TV and work out. When I have to, I do stuff around the house.”
“Well, it’s good to know you’re not perfect. I was beginning to feel shallow and inadequate.”
“Two words I’d never use to describe you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m not sure I deserve it.” She couldn’t help thinking she hadn’t felt this level of peace in a really long time, if ever. “Did I tell you thanks for all your help?”
Was it her imagination, or was he somehow holding her tighter? It had been so long since she’d been with a man she couldn’t gauge.
The woodsy smell from the fire mixed with the aroma of Sam. As an artist, she’d always felt that her senses were more acute than those of others, but around him, they seemed even more so. She enjoyed the way her hand fit into his, the way their bodies swayed together as if they’d been made to fit. Effortless. That would be the one word she would use to describe their relationship. Around him, she could be herself. He’d seen her at her worst and hadn’t shied away. While she’d yet to quantify what that meant, she knew in her heart it meant something. Somehow this had started around a mutual concern for Travis, but had morphed into something else.
“Only about a million times.” When his fingertips brushed through her hair, she felt a jolt of something intangible. “I figure we’ve skirted around the inevitable long enough. Maybe we should straight up talk about this attraction between us.”
“Why do that when it’s infinitely more awkward to tip toe around it?”
He smiled briefly and slid his fingertips along her jaw until they interwove with her hair. With infinite slowness, he bent his head toward hers until their lips touched. The momentary awkwardness dissipated quickly as he deepened the kiss. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close and gave in to the welcome sensations. The promise of what lay ahead hung in the air.
“I’m a little nervous. It’s been a long time for me.” She inched on her toes and kissed him back, feeling the rightness clear through to her toes.
“Me too,” he murmured as he kissed his way to her neck.
She pulled back. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Contrary to common belief, I don’t do much tail chasing anymore.” Without another word, he swept her into his arms and headed for the house.
Years of deprivation crawled through until her skin began to prickle. Intimacy had been an elusive proposition the last several years. But tonight intimacy with Sam felt right.
A sense of desperation always drove her decisions. Tonight was no different.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Travis had only thought he’d known terror until this very moment.
“We’ve got inside help and we’re breaking out.” Carlos held the knife to his back as they crept through the darkened hallway.
“I’m not going.” As Travis said the words, the point of the knife pricked his skin.
“You’re going to cooperate because I’ve got guys right outside your mom’s house. If you don’t, she’s in for big trouble.” He handed Travis a lethal-looking rubber knife. “Now play nice for the camera and I’ll do my part.”
As they rounded the corner, Travis spotted the camera. This was going to look bad. It was going to look like he was forcing Carlos along at knifepoint, that he was the one behind the jailbreak. Part of him wanted to take the chance Carlos was lying, or at least hope that Sam was with his mom, but the other part knew he could never take that kind of a chance.
Instead, he gave into what Carlos wanted and hoped he could figure a way out.
***
It took a few moments to recognize where she was and whose arm was wrapped around her midsection. A sense of normalcy swam through her spine as his breath feathered her hair. Sunlight streamed through the windows.
Blissful. That was the only word she could think of to describe the moment.
When thoughts from last night came tumbling back, she bit back the smile. Man oh man. Was that how things were supposed to be? Before she had a chance to relish in memories, the doorbell rang.
And rang.
And rang.
Whoever it was, they then held their finger on the bell without letting up.
Then the pounding began. “Jillian. Answer the Goddamn door.”
Crap.
Before she had a chance to throw something on, Sam jumped out of bed and slipped on his jeans. “Who the hell is that?”
She held out her hand to stop him as she slipped into her robe. “Archie.” As always, his timing was impeccable. He never ceased to disrupt any sense of normalcy in her life. “I’ll take care of it.” Tying the robe at her waist, she shuffled to the front door. Under her breath she couldn’t help griping. It was as if he had some kind of radar that went off when she was enjoying herself. She couldn’t even get him to return a phone call most days and now suddenly he needed her attention this very minute. If he was here to complain about the paparazzi again, she’d strangle him.
“I’m here.” She half-heartedly called as she flicked the locks and threw open the door. “What’s so important?”
He pushed his way inside. “Maybe if you’d answer your damn phone you’d know.” His face was flushed and a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin. “That idiot kid of yours escaped.”
Reflexively, she glanced at the phone she’d left charging on the kitchen counter last night. “Es—” The word clogged her throat and her belly tightened. “What do you mean?”
“If you weren’t so busy fucking the redneck in the pick-up,” he pointed to the driveway and Sam’s truck, “you might have known.” He muttered something unintelligible and shook his head. “Some mother you are.”
His words sliced her like shards of glass taking their ounce of flesh as they flew by. He’d always known how to go for the kill. She pushed back the tears and the accompanying guilt. They would have to wait until later.
Before she could respond, Sam stepped behind her and placed a proprietary arm about her waist. Jillian couldn’t decide which gave her more pleasure, the simple act of reassurance or the look of astonishment played out on Archie’s face as he took in Sam’s presence. Under different circumstances, she would have relished the moment.
“What do you know about Travis?” The contrast between Sam and Archie was never more evident than with that simple
question. The intonation of his voice, the concern underlying the statement, and the level-headed grace with which he spoke clearly illustrated it.
Archie glanced from Jillian to Sam, then back again. Since he was a prick of world class proportions, she knew there were a million acid-laced remarks tickling the edge of his tongue. She’d like to think it was out of concern for Travis he refrained, but knew it had much more to do with Sam’s imposing stature.
Finally, he spoke. “Here’s the emergency number. Call yourself.” He threw the paper at her and walked out the door.
Neither of them said a word. Instead, Sam picked up the paper while she ran to the kitchen to retrieve her phone. As he read off the number, she dialed and hoped to God she wasn’t too late.
***
“This is bullshit.” They’d traipsed through the woods for what seemed like an hour or more in the pitch black. Travis didn’t know where they were headed, but at this point wanted proof that his mother was all right. “I need to speak with my mom.”
“In good time.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? It isn’t as if we’re going to get all that far. We’re wearing orange jumpsuits. We don’t have money or a car. Just where in the hell do you think we’re going?”
Carlos ignored him and kept walking. A few hundred feet later he stopped, reached behind a tree, and came up with a large brown bag. “Ask and it shall be given.” He threw something at Travis. “Now change and stop being such a pussy.”
Travis ground his teeth together and slipped into the clothes. “Okay, big shot, now what?”
“Do you think I broke your sorry ass out of there for nothing?” Carlos shook his head and grabbed Travis by the arm. “Somebody has big plans for you.”
***
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Last night wasn’t at all what Sam had expected. Then again, who was he kidding? He’d been anticipating last night since that first day he saw her in court. Now the all-too-familiar-mother-guilt thing played across her face.