by Camden Leigh
“Enough with the lecture. Just fucking find her.” I throw the phone across the foyer. It slides under the console and spins rapid circles. Just like my thoughts. Why did she take off? She was talking to Annabeth one minute then . . . “Fuck.”
I retrieve my phone and dial Annabeth. I get her voice mail. I call Ellie next but she doesn’t answer either. The day of the wedding and I can’t find anybody! Argh. I kick the wall and wish I hadn’t. Stupid oak might be strong, but it sure as hell isn’t forgiving.
The door opens behind me and I wheel around, heart freaking climbing my throat.
Annabeth closes the door behind her. “Quinn? Are you okay?”
Am I okay? Am I fucking okay? “What did you do?”
“What ever are you talking about?” She grabs her throat like I just sentenced her to housework.
“Stop with the games, Annabeth. You were the last one to talk to Cassie and now she’s gone.”
“Oh, she is?”
“Don’t look so chipper about it. What did you say to her?”
“Just the truth. I told her why I moved overseas and I told her why I’m back.”
Is she for real? She can’t honestly believe Cassie would give a damn about her living arrangements.
“Would you like to know why?” she pushes to her tiptoes then settles back to her heels. All smug and glowing. All perfectly Annabeth. Perfectly crap.
“When are you going to get it? I am not interested in you. We are history. The past. We ended five years ago when I left. I do not want—”
“Four years, eleven months, and twenty-two days to be exact.”
“What?”
“Oh, I’ve been counting, because four years, ten months, and two days ago, I learned I was pregnant. Alone and pregnant. Four years and six months ago I left everything real. I left my home, my friends . . . everyone, and moved to France to hide my condition, and four years and two months ago I had your son. Blond and blue, just like every Covington in this godforsaken town except you. Don’t act like you’re the only one with permanent reminders of what happened around here. I’m reminded every morning, every night how you walked away without a word.”
Blond and blue? A boy? I have . . . a kid? The tension in my hands drop. My fingers, numb and cold, don’t feel attached to my body. My head spins, and Annabeth, standing there delivering a punch I never expected, smiles like she’s holding the winning lottery ticket.
“What are you talking about?” I swipe my hands through my hair, pulling at the roots. Pulling and wishing I hadn’t heard right. That can’t be possible. We were always careful. “Are you sure? I don’t think . . . he can’t be mine.”
Her eyebrows disappear into her bangs. “You think I’d sleep around when I have you? How dare you even suggest—”
“But we were careful. You were on the pill. I used condoms.”
“And that one that broke?” She crosses her hands behind her back. “Does it even matter how? It happened, and he’s yours.”
“Excuse me.” I dart past her. I grab the doorknob. Hell, if I don’t get outside fast, I’m going to fucking puke all over the place.
I lean over the railing and do just that. God. A kid. No wonder Cassie ran. The blood that had just found its way back into my heart drops again, making me dizzier than before. Annabeth couldn’t have been that cold-hearted, could she?
“Did you tell Cassie?” I turn. “You did, didn’t you? Why wouldn’t you tell me as soon as you saw me? Why didn’t you tell me when you were pregnant?”
“You left me. And then you wouldn’t answer my calls. Or my e-mails. I wasn’t telling you that through text.”
“But when you got back? When I saw you here?” I grip the column and bang my head against it lightly. What the hell is happening?
“I tried. At the yacht club I asked you to take a walk with me, but you chose Cassidy. I asked you to come say hi to my parents at the Battery, but again, you chose Cassidy.”
I turn in a circle feeling locked inside a bubble with no room to move. No air to breathe. “You just had to say it, Annabeth, fucking say the words and I would’ve stopped to listen.”
“Don’t give me that crap.” She folds her arms and steps back. “You won’t even tell anyone why you left and you think I should just walk up to you and blurt, ‘hey, Quinn, you have a son, shoot me a text if you want to meet him.’ You, of all people, know it’s not that easy.”
“It would’ve been better than finding out this way.” I reach in my pocket and grab my phone, eager to call Cassidy and tell her I know about having a kid, to talk her into coming back. To tell her it’s okay, though I have no fucking clue what I’m to do with this . . . news.
“I needed just an hour to tell you properly, but you wouldn’t give me fifteen minutes. I would’ve settled for ten, even. My parents had him sitting on a cannon at the Battery. I just wanted you to walk over and say hi and you wouldn’t. Then I could’ve explained that my ‘nephew’ isn’t my nephew at all, but your four-year-old son.”
“So it’s my fault?”
“It’s no one’s fault.”
“That’s debatable. You told Cassie. I won’t forgive you for that.”
Annabeth shakes her head and closes her eyes. “I told your mom telling her was a bad idea.”
“My mom knows?” This is fucked up. Two people hiding the truth, hiding a—my—goddamn kid from me? “I’ve got to . . . just—” I dash out into the yard.
Wes took my car and Ellie has hers. I purse my lips and punch the air with my fist. I sprint out of the house and toward the barn, needing distance from me and the news. But it follows, God it fucking haunts me, chasing me like a pack of hunting dogs.
Sharp gouges in the soft dirt too singular to be deer tracks slow my escape. The barn door, pushed slightly open, rattles on its track.
“Cassie?” I sprint through the opening and flip the switch on the wall. My heart tightens in my chest. Please be in here.
The lights flicker to life, casting a venomous glow over the truck. I follow the gouges in the dirt to the rear where they stop. Flipping the tailgate down, I clamp my teeth together.
A sexy black stiletto tips over as I climb into the truck bed. I grab one and dirt falls off the heel. Skirt stuffing, or whatever that crap is that goes under gowns, drifts across the bed like loose hay. Where is she?
I grab the stiff material and the shoes and throw them on the floorboard of the cab. Cranking the truck to life, I spin out of the barn and take off toward the main road. This town isn’t big; I’ll find her. Then I’ll deal with Annabeth. And my . . . son.
No wonder Cassie fled. News like that made me run like damn zombies infiltrated the plantation. She’s probably back in her bed, back with her friends, back in Boston, without me. But she could’ve at least said good-bye to my face.
Then I could have grabbed her, made her see that it doesn’t matter what Annabeth throws at me; I’m not losing Cassie. I can have a kid in my life and still love Cassie like there’s no tomorrow. If I’m even allowed to see my son.
“I have a son,” I whisper.
I take the circular road leading to Magnolia Hill, and after one loop around the cemetery, realize my chances of finding Cassie have significantly dropped. Maybe she went to the city. Or the airport. Surely she wouldn’t leave. Her suitcase is still in her room back at the house. I drive North out of Lucas Hill and head toward Charleston.
I pound my fist against the steering wheel. I should’ve stayed with Cassie, jumped in the carriage with her. I should’ve been there when fucking Annabeth showed up.
Sprinkles hit the windshield and I flip the wipers on. A mile or so down the road, steam rises off the roads, mixing with the cool rain, fogging the windows. I wipe away the moisture and glance at the darkening sky. The farther I drive, the lower the clouds collect. Then hail attacks the truck. I pull off the road and cut the engine, smart enough to know better than to play chicken with a hailstorm.
I stare out the front, head
pressed against the rear window. I don’t know where to look, who to call. The only person with the answers is Cassie and she’s gone. I crack my window and a raindrop sneaks in and lands on my arm. Wiping it away, I glimpse the tattoo representing Kat. I push my sleeve up and follow the vine. Tap the barbs. I do the same with my other arm, tracing the reminders I forever embedded into my skin.
I’ve learned to live with the day-to-day reminders and have welcomed the new memories, like the one from Dad’s office. I rock back in silent laughter. Cassie flipped when she turned into a blueberry. Memories like that have helped me move out of the past. I don’t avoid Dad’s office anymore. I don’t avoid a lot of things, because she helped me want to rebuild my family. To gain their trust and forgiveness. What will they do with this new bit of information?
I check my phone. Where is she? I just want to know she’s okay. If she doesn’t want to be with me, I’ll find a way to deal, but I need to know she’s not dead somewhere on the side of the road. I need to know she’s safe. And I need her to know, no matter what her reasons, that I still love her. I fucking love her crazy.
Lights stream across my windshield from a passing car. The car turns around and parks behind me.
Wes jerks the passenger door open and climbs in. “Kat found her. She’s fine.”
The boulder on my chest fills with helium. Thank fucking God. I jerk the truck into Drive.
“No,” he says as he grabs the wheel. “Let Kat work her magic.”
I stare at him and shake my head. No. I need to explain. I need to make her understand. “Where are they? I need to see her now.”
“Your sister’s wedding is in three hours. You can’t leave.”
“I can. She’ll understand.” I turn the wipers on high.
“No, she won’t. None of them will understand.”
I hit the steering wheel. Hit it again and again, grab it and growl as loud as I can. Of course he’s fucking right. They’ll think I bailed . . . again.
“But Cassie doesn’t. She doesn’t understand. I need to talk to her.”
“Dude, it can wait.” Wes grabs the keys from the ignition.
“Fuck, man. Give those back.”
He shakes his head.
I glance behind me at the idling car with its headlights still on, wipers tracking back and forth. I twist the steering wheel beneath my hands, then sling the door open. I dart through the rain, headed to the car. Wes cuts me off, grabbing my arm, pulling me back and pinning me against the truck. I can’t fight him off. My legs feel weak, my arms like lead, my heart numb.
“I said no, Covington.”
I sink to the ground. To the mud. Water and hail pounding me and the ground around me like miniature bombs. Wes squats beside me and offers his hand. I can’t take it. I just fucking can’t. Accepting it means accepting all this shit.
“I have a kid,” I whisper.
“What?”
“There’s a kid. A fucking kid. Annabeth never told me.” I stare at him, willing him to understand so I don’t have to say it again.
“Shit, man. When did you find out?” He drops to his knees and pushes water from his face.
“An hour ago.”
“And you think that’s why Cassie left?”
“I know it is. Annabeth . . . She told her first.”
“Damn. She’s ruthless.” Wes sighs and collapses next to me.
We sit in silence, rain and hail beating us to death. I close my eyes, squeeze them so tight, hoping when I open them my ass isn’t sitting in the mud, losing it over the woman I love in front of a kid I barely know.
The hail stops and the rain lightens up. Wes taps my arm. “Come on. Let’s conquer one problem at a time. We have a wedding to go to. Then we’ll find Cassie. You can explain. I bet she’ll understand. She’s bloody smart, man. It’ll be fine.”
“I haven’t met him,” I say as I bury my head in my hands. “I don’t even know what he looks like. All I can think about is Cassie and her getting that news and how it must’ve confirmed all the reasons she didn’t want to start anything with me. She fucking left. She’s gone.”
Wes taps my arm again and this time I take his hand. “Kat won’t let her go. Trust me.”
Chapter 28
Cassidy
Pretty heels dyed indigo tap against the carpet. They’re the same shoes I’d suggested for Ellie’s bridesmaids. The black feather near the toe combs the air, emphasizing impatience with each tap. I cast my focus to the words at the bottom of my magazine page and pretend I’m engrossed in the article. How did they find me?
“The thing about a small town is everyone knows everything about everybody.” Kat bats the magazine out of my hand. It falls to the floor. “Getting a ride from a townie won’t exactly keep your business secret.”
My ass slides down the seat farther until my head rests on the back.
“My brother’s going ape shit over you.” Kat steps closer, knees meeting mine. “You going ape shit over him?”
I force a swallow, though my mouth just went Arizona dry.
“Okay . . .” She taps her toes against the stained carpet. The same carpet in every bus depot I’ll stop in on the way home. Nothing warm about it. Nothing pretty. Just a trample-me-and-leave-me-behind industrial gray-blue.
She sighs, then continues, “The wedding’s in two hours, Cass. Are you really going to skip out on Ellie?”
“I’m sure your mom will give me extra credit for leaving early.” I tuck my hands under my thighs.
“So you’re a quitter?” She knocks my knee with hers; I give in and look up. “Hmmm, must have read you wrong. I could’ve sworn you were a fighter.” She pulls my purse out of the seat next to me and drops into it.
“It has nothing to do with quitting,” I say. I double-check the time on my ticket, then glance at the huge digital clock above the ticket counter. Fifteen minutes. I hope I last.
“Ellie’s pitching a hissy fit and you’re the only one who can calm her down. Mom’s making it worse, and before you say no”—she grabs my arm— “know that I haven’t seen Quinn since the ball. Who knows if he’ll show for the wedding.”
I read her face, trying to figure out if she’s lying. “Seriously?”
She nods. “He’s probably out searching for you. Or maybe he bailed . . . again.” She crosses her ankles and smooths the pretty silk skirt made from the fabric I’d fetched from their dad’s office. “You know; you could’ve put his mind at ease with a simple text. Or note. Or phone call . . . or to his face.”
“I told your mom.” I shrug. “He could’ve asked her.” I’d come clean about knowing Quinn has a son. The old witch didn’t say good-bye or thank you or anything. She just sat on the other end of the phone in complete silence.
Kat punches my leg and a knot seizes my muscle.
“Fucking-A.” I rub the lump and flex my foot.
“Quit being a pansy-ass coward. My sister needs you whether Quinn shows up to the wedding or not. Get your crap and come on.”
I don’t move.
She rises from the seat and crosses her arms, waiting for me to follow.
“This is my bus. I’m not running away; just going home. Where I belong.”
She pulls my ticket from my hand and reads the itinerary, mouthing the words silently. “Where you belong. Are you sure, Cass?” She rips my ticket and I grab it from her.
I hold the pieces together, squeezing them in my palm. “Why did you do that? Why can’t you just let me go?”
“Because you have someone here to go home to. Here’s where you belong. I know it. Quinn knows it. My mom fucking knows it, but she’ll never admit it. And you know it. You don’t belong anywhere else. You belong here.”
“He’s got a—” I clamp my teeth down hard to stop my words. “I’m a city girl. Small towns suffocate me.” I march past Kat to the ticket counter. “Can I board with this? I accidentally ripped it.” I hold out my ticket and the guy acts like he’s doing me a favor when he hands over his
tape dispenser.
“You aren’t getting on that bus,” Kat says to my back.
I slap tape over the rip, grab another piece, but Kat chunks the entire dispenser off the counter. Thunk. It lands on the floor. She flings my ticket under the glass partition at the ticket man. He stands and crosses his arms, staring at us.
“Ellie doesn’t have a maid of honor. I can step in, but we’re one bridesmaid short. She needs you.” She shows me her phone with a big, capital-lettered text reading: ANNABETH SUCKS. FIND CASSIDY!!!
“Not my concern.” I reach through the gap in the window and grab my ticket and issue a silent sorry to the guy. I want badly to ask why Annabeth isn’t attending. Has the news broke? Wouldn’t Kat have mentioned it?
“But it is. You helped plan this event. You figured out the logistics, where everyone needs to be.” She grabs my arm and squeezes. “Have you ever seen a chicken with its head cut off?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s gross.”
“It’s true, you know. They run around in circles until they can’t run anymore then flop over dead.”
“Thanks for the visual.” I fold the ticket in my palm so she won’t steal it and head toward the double doors leading to the buses.
Once I put a barrier between us, I’ll be okay. I can get on the bus. Ride away and never look back.
“That’s Ellie and Quinn. A double-headed chicken with both heads lopped off, trying to run in different directions. It doesn’t work, Cass. They’re lost. They can’t think straight without you.”
They’ll manage. Ellie has Dean and Quinn has a very important person about to take over his life. And his heart.
I give the woman at the door my ticket. She scans it, sighs heavily, then smooths the wrinkled tape to read the smeared bus number. She hands it back and points to the left.
“I have to go. I’m sure everything will work out. If your brother doesn’t show, there’s still even numbers for the procession without Annabeth.” Saying her name makes me flame inside. Burn up like a sparkler, then fall apart. Nothing but charred wire and fragile ash as proof a fire once existed.
I give Kat a small smile. I really like her. Really hoped we would keep in touch. But as I’ve come to understand, things don’t work out the way you plan. Ever. I push through the door and give Kat a wave.