Falling Deep

by Diana Gardin

  Anger immediately flared up inside of her. She hadn’t wanted to wear the damn dress, either, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him tell her she couldn’t.

  “So wait. Let me get this straight. You do like it, in fact the entire ensemble makes you think of the phrase ‘fuck me,’ yet you don’t actually want me to wear it outside of this room?”

  “Yes.” Agitated, he scrubbed a hand across his jaw and stepped closer to her.

  “So we’re back to Caveman Reed?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Didn’t I already explain to you why that term didn’t apply to me?”

  “What are you trying to keep me safe from?”

  “From all the stupid motherfuckers who are going to try to touch you while you’re wearing that dress and those heels. I’m also trying to save myself. Because I really don’t want to end up in jail tonight, Hope. Especially not when I’m on the brink of signing the deal of my life. Please don’t make me get arrested. Please go and change your dress and shoes. Please.”

  Her lips twitched. Reed was really very adorable when he begged. Sadly, she wasn’t going to be able to appease him, even though at this point she really wanted to.

  “I can’t change,” she said, coming to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. “This is all I brought.”

  He groaned. “Oh, Jesus. You even smell like a slice of heaven right now. We gotta cancel the limo.”

  She smacked his chest. “We aren’t canceling! I want to go out. Everything will be fine. I’ll stick to you like glue, no one will dare touch me with you looking like an avenging angel.”

  She stepped back and appraised him. That was exactly what he looked like when he wore all black. Right on down to the slim jeans tucked into loosely laced boots and an army-style blazer.

  “Oh, man.” He sighed. “You’re really not going to change?”

  She shook her head firmly, and her golden chandelier earrings jangled. “Nope.”

  He bent down and took a nip at her neck. “Fine. You really do look way too hot for your own good, you know.”

  Oh boy. If he was going to keep doing that, they weren’t going to get out of the hotel after all. But he had given her the boost of confidence she needed. Now she’d almost forgotten why she was so squeamish about wearing the outfit in the first place.

  But not quite.

  The limo was waiting downstairs for them promptly at ten, and the front desk concierge who checked them in watched them with a forlorn expression as they exited the elevator and walked outside together, Reed holding the door open for Hope to exit first.

  She kept her eyes on him once they were in the limo, a glass of champagne in their hand. Reed looked at his disgustedly.

  “You don’t like champagne?” she asked.

  “I know since I have money, I’m supposed to,” answered Reed. “But seriously, give me a longneck or a shot of Cuervo over the fancy shit every single time.”

  It was one of the things she loved about Reed. She knew he had money, probably a trust fund bigger than he could ever spend in one lifetime. He had nice stuff, and an amazing job, and everything seemed to come easily to him. But in spite of all of that, he was just a boy from South Carolina who wanted to drink beer in his favorite bar and drive a truck.

  Unexpectedly sexy.

  She looked around the limo thoughtfully, and then reached over Reed’s legs to open a console embedded into the seat beside him. She pulled out two Coronas. She handed one to him, and then smirked at his beaming smile.

  “Seems like Phillip figured that about you,” she said with a shrug.

  “Have I told you that you’re pretty amazing?”

  “Nope. But I kind of already knew it.”

  He pulled her close and they sipped Coronas as they rode, Hope staring out of the windows as the limo driver wound them through downtown Atlanta.

  “Hey,” said Reed suddenly.

  Hope tilted her face up to look at him. He wore a serious look on his handsome, chiseled face, his blue eyes dark and brooding.

  “I want to talk to you about something,” he said softly. “Something I’ve never talked to anyone about before, except for Aston. After last night…this is different. I’m different with you. I want to talk to you about everything.”

  Her stomach tightened with something she didn’t recognize. She should be happy that he wanted to open up to her. Maybe even share with her the real reason he had such a dark danger brewing behind his eyes, the real reason he was able to write songs with the truest sadness she’d ever heard.

  But she wasn’t sharing everything with him. Is that fair? She knew it wasn’t. He was about to pour his heart out to her, and she hadn’t decided to do the same for him.

  Her stomach clenched even tighter, and she forced a smile onto her face.

  “Let’s not delve into unfamiliar waters any more than we already have, okay, Hopewell?” Her nervous laugh betrayed her true feelings of anxiety.

  He sat back, a hurt look crossing his face before he was able to cover it with a frown.

  “It’s nothing bad, Hope. I just wanted to tell you about—”

  She silenced him with a finger on his lips, and a shaky, light kiss to his lips. “Not tonight,” she whispered. “Another time.”

  Stunned, he nodded. Then she watched a wall of insecurity build up, brick by brick, onto his face until all of his normal swagger was back in perfect position.

  “Okay, Hope,” he said with a shrug. “Whatever you want.”

  Sudden panic seized her as he turned to look out of the window. She knew deep down that she’d made some kind of grave mistake, but she was unable to see the silent distance she’d just created between them in a matter of seconds.

  Twenty-One

  The following day, after a long night of club hopping, VIP table with bottle service, velvet rope–lined clubbing with Hope, Reed was finally back home in Nelson Island. He had to wake up early for work the next day, but he needed a swim.

  He needed to think.

  The remainder of that night and the entire car ride home, she would barely let him talk. If he even attempted to take on a serious tone or change the direction of their light conversation, she practically threw on a pair of sneakers and sprinted in the opposite direction.

  He didn’t understand it, couldn’t fathom what he’d done to cause that kind of reaction. That first night together and then the following morning was stellar, perfect, steal-your-breath fantastic, and he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Her warm body lying next to his, sliding over his, melded against his…it was sheer, orgasmic perfection. And they’d never had a problem talking before, either.

  But all of a sudden, she’d shut down. Put up some kind of cement wall that he couldn’t even break through with a sledgehammer.

  So he’d withdrawn, finally, and by the time he’d dropped her off at her house they were barely speaking.

  He sprinted across the sand and dived into the ocean, pulling up to the frothy surface and cutting through the wall of water with his thick, strong arms. She’d rejected him, was what it came down to. He’d been ready to explain to her exactly why he was the way he was, and tell her that he was ready to just give everything to her, for the long haul, and she’d shut him down.

  The shit hurt.

  The shit killed.

  So he swam. Until his body hurt just as badly as his heart did, and only then did he stop.

  He dragged himself up the steps to the condo and into the shower. When he emerged twenty minutes later, the steam from the bathroom following him out into the hallway, Tate was sitting on the couch with a game controller in his hands, staring at the television with vengeance in his eyes.

  “Die, fucker!” he screamed at the TV.

  Reed rolled his eyes and dabbed at his face with the towel around his neck. Padding into the kitchen with bare feet, he grabbed a beer bottle from the fridge and sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the screen.

  Tate glanced over at him. “What’s up, man
? Good trip?”

  “It was and it wasn’t.”

  When he didn’t say any more, Tate glanced away from the screen again and at Reed’s face. He put down the controller. “Uh-oh. Trouble on the Island of Reed and Hope?”

  “There might not even still be an island,” snapped Reed.

  “Naw, man,” said Tate. “I’ve seen you with her. There will be an island. Maybe y’all just needed to come back to the mainland for a minute. But soon enough, you’ll be in paradise again.”

  Reed stared at Tate, disbelief clouding his features. “Are you seriously talking to me like that?”

  Tate mimed stamping his forehead. “Consider me whipped.”

  Reed smiled for the first time since he’d told Hope he wanted to talk to her in the limo. “I might have fucked it up.”

  Tate shook his head. “She’s a chick. She’ll want to talk it all over eventually, man. Just wait her out.”

  Reed nodded. “Okay. That’s actually kind of good advice, Tate. You been watching that TV therapist?”

  “Religiously. That’s my shit.”

  “Uh-huh. You know, you could just go out and use your own advice on yourself. I’ve seen it now, man. It doesn’t always have to be about how much pussy you can pull in a week. There’s more out there.”

  Tate shook his head numbly. “Not for me.”

  Reed opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. He mulled it over in his mind, and then decided that it needed to be said. By someone. And it looked like he’d drawn the short straw.

  “Look, man. It was high school. That was a long time ago. She’s gone. Don’t you think there might be another—”

  Tate held up a hand to silence him. “I’m warning you, Reed. If you say her name I will come across this couch to punch you in your pretty fucking face. Don’t say her name to me. And there won’t be anyone else. Not for me.”

  Reed sighed. “Message received. Good night, man.”

  “Night.”

  Reed suffered through nearly three long, lonely weeks of no feedback from Hope. She barely responded to his texts and ignored his calls altogether. He was hurt, and tired, and had been through the wringer of emotions until he had finally settled on anger.

  Red-hot, blood-burning anger.

  He knew she’d felt the exact same thing he’d felt on their trip to Atlanta. And he’d spent over half a summer getting to know her and learning that he probably fucking loved her. There was no way in hell she didn’t have those same feelings. He’d seen them in her eyes when she fell to pieces in his arms, by his hand. He’d seen it.

  He’d been to her work, only to be intercepted by Morrow.

  “Give her a little time, man,” he’d said to Reed, placing a hand on his chest to bar him from entering the Center.

  Reed sent him a look of pure anguish. “I have given her time, Morrow. I can’t do this anymore. I just need her to say something. She just needs to let me know she doesn’t want me to give up on her.”

  God, it had hurt him to utter those words. It sliced right through his gut like a newly sharpened blade. He didn’t want to give up on her. Even as he said the words, he knew he probably couldn’t. Before he’d met Hope, he’d been drifting. Wondering how he was going to make it another day dredging through the work at Hopewell Enterprises. Wondering how in the world he’d be seen for his music outside of South Carolina. Wondering how much longer he could trudge through life without someone to share it with. Meeting Hope, from that very first moment, had given him a new direction, an undeniable purpose.

  He couldn’t lose that now. When he’d barely begun to live it.

  Morrow nodded; the sympathy was written all over his face. “Believe me, I know. She’s stubborn. She had a plan and then you came along and smashed it to pieces. Just give her a minute to breathe. I swear to you, she’s smarter than this. She’ll come to you. Just wait.”

  Reed had heaved a painful sigh, climbed back into the Silverado, and driven back to N.I. alone.

  Without his Hope.

  “I can’t do it,” whispered Hope.

  “You damn well better do it,” said Frank calmly. “Or you’ll be leaving my house.”

  “You can’t do that!” Angry frustration nearly overtook her. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she brushed them away angrily and moved into Frank’s space until she was inches from his broad chest. Wendy was out for the day, so she was having this battle with Frank and Frank alone.

  “You are not taking my sister away from me! She is all that I have, and I’m the only safe place she’s ever known! I will not sleep with Nathan from Silk. I’m better than that! I’m not a call girl!”

  Frank laughed, rank spittle hitting her face. She wiped it away in disgust, turning her head.

  “You’re not a call girl? Really, Hope? What have I been training you to be for the last six months? You’re a prude, so you had to work up to it. But eventually, all my girls sleep with the clients. That’s just how this thing goes. You will give Nathan what he wants. You will. The end.”

  She stared at him, transfixed by the calm demeanor he maintained while he invoked horror in her very soul. He was a unique kind of monster, and her mother actually slept with him every night.

  She nearly gagged.

  “Okay, Frank,” she said, because there was nothing else to say. She turned on her heel and left the room, shaking.

  She walked slowly to the kitchen, where Violet was standing by the sink, tears streaming down her face. Hope only had to glance at her to realize she’d overheard her conversation with Frank. Violet turned watery, icy eyes on her sister.

  “Oh, Vi,” she said.

  “You’re not doing that,” said Violet angrily. “You’re not, Hope! I refuse to let you. You’re no slut, you’re my sister! I don’t care what Frank says!”

  “Vi—”

  “No!” the younger girl screamed. “Just stop. I swear to God, if you think you’re doing this, I will just get on a bus and run away by myself. Getting me away from them isn’t worth this. I don’t want you to…I can’t let you lose yourself like that.”

  Hope stared at Violet. When had the girl grown up enough to know exactly what Hope would be losing if she sold her soul to Frank and his club for the money?

  “I can’t leave you,” she whispered, torture scraping the edges of her voice.

  Violet stepped forward and hugged her sister hard. “You won’t. We can figure something else out. Okay? Just please tell me you won’t listen to Frank.”

  Hope sucked in a shaky breath, and then nodded. “I won’t listen to Frank.”

  She noticed a paper clutched in Violet’s trembling hand, and gestured. “What’s that?”

  Violet looked down and her expression was startled. She’d clearly forgotten she’d been holding it.

  “It’s nothing,” she mumbled.

  She reached for it, plucking it from the girl’s hands. “It’s not nothing.”

  She scanned the paper quickly, and then frowned at Violet. “You have a school trip coming up? Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Violet swiped at the skin under her damp eyes. “I asked Mom, and she never signed the paperwork and sent in the form. I don’t want to piss her off and ask her again. So I’m not going. I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

  Hope stared at her incredulously. What did her sister think her purpose in life was? “Do you want to go, Vi?”

  Violet shrugged. “I dunno. It’s just some dumb museum.”

  Hope glanced at the paper once more. Some museum my ass. “It’s the Art Museum, Vi. Of course you’ll go.”

  She grabbed a pen from a drawer and signed her name on the paper. “I’ll write you a check in the morning.”

  Violet nodded and disappeared upstairs to work on a project for school.

  Hope leaned against the kitchen counter, a sigh escaping her. Violet was her first priority. Without Hope, Violet wouldn’t get any of the things she wanted or needed. She wouldn’t have anyone to go to when she was hurt,
or when she needed help. She needed to keep her sister close at all costs.

  And, with a sinking feeling, she realized the cost might be pretty damn high.

  Miraculously, she was able to hold Frank off. It took every ounce of her energy to do her job at the Center, love the kids who so desperately needed someone to care about them, swim for the sake of her own sanity, make sure Violet had what she needed, keep Frank at bay, stay the hell off Wendy’s radar, and then do it all over again the next day.

  No time for Reed. No time to address the situation that loomed so large in the back of her mind that her head ached daily at the enormity of it. She had glimpsed heaven, even leaped high enough to grab a tiny piece of it. And then she just walked away.

  I don’t have time to deal with Reed.

  At least that’s what she told herself.

  But a niggling feeling chewed away at her heart every day that went by and she ignored one of his calls, one of his texts. And after a month of that, a month of not seeing him at all since their trip to Atlanta where everything had changed, she knew she had to face it.

  He called less. He barely texted. She knew she should let him go, just let him move on already like it seemed he was beginning to do. He had a future in music, a career on the stage that was going to be amazing. Without her. She was happy for him, proud of him for being strong enough to grab it.

  She should leave it be.

  But she just couldn’t. Not after what they’d shared. So she grabbed Morrow, and decided to head to Nelson Island on a Friday night, when she knew Reed would be at Sunny’s.

  Twenty-Two

  She was certain Frank was going to hit the roof when she told him she wasn’t going to work that night. She knew there were girls who lived for the money these dates provided, and that she could be easily covered. But Frank loved to start in on her about how she was the favorite, about how every man in the club wanted a date with her.