Fault Lines

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Fault Lines Page 12

by Shea, Rebecca


  I roll my eyes, but she knows the truth. My heart swells at the thought of seeing Cole in only seven short hours. “Maybe just a little bit .”

  T he sound of her voice pulls me from the past. "I was wondering if you'd ever call me again now that you're some famous lawyer," she says, answering the phone with a small laugh. Normally I'd joke around with her, only I'm not in the right frame of mind .

  "Ash?" I respond, my voice breaking .

  I hear her inhale sharply at the sound of my voice. The tone of her voice changes from joking to serious. "Frances, what's wrong?" I can hear shuffling on her end of the line before she speaks again. "Talk to me. Are you okay ?"

  I can feel the lump in my throat growing as it sits heavily at the base of my neck. I swallow hard, trying to choke it down. "There's so much I need to tell you." My voice cracks again. Emotion is not something I show freely. I've been trained to bury it. Stick to facts. Articulate issues and derive solutions. It's the lawyer in me. Only Cole isn't an issue I can derive a solution to. "Cole—" I manage to get his name out as the tears start to fall .

  "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," she says under her breath. "Start from the beginning. I've got all night so don't spare any details ."

  This is what I love about Ashley. She'll drop what she's doing at the drop of a dime for me and I couldn't love her more for it. She knows my deepest secrets and has held my hand through the hardest events of my life. She is a true friend, and I'll be indebted to her and her family forever. After college, Ashley moved to Washington D.C. to work as a lobbyist on Capitol Hill. We may have lived across the country from each other, but our friendship and support never wavered .

  As I get myself together, I take a deep breath and start at the beginning, telling her how out of the blue Cole called to tell me about my mom. As the sky gets darker and lights of Los Angeles become nearer, Ashley listens intently for the next hour and a half and I spare her no details on what happened back in Crescent Ridge .

  "He still loves you." I hear her pop the cork on a bottle of wine. Oh, how I wish I was sitting with her on a couch, sipping on a glass of wine. "He fucked up so bad, Frances, but he still loves you." She pauses. "And I know you love him. He was the kind of love you never get over ."

  I hold my breath for a moment as I think about what Ashley's just said. "I'm getting married, Ash. To Ted. I moved on from Cole a long, long time ago ."

  "But have you really? What if there was no Ted?" Her voice echoes in what I assume is her wine glass .

  "Well, there is a Ted. So we're not playing what-ifs, all right ?"

  "I'm just saying, if the circumstances were right — "

  "Ashley!" I bark at her and she instantly quiets. "Besides, there's no coming back from where we've been." My heart aches as I say that .

  "Did you tell him about — "

  "No!" I cut her off. "That's my secret," I start before she interrupts me this time .

  "No, Frances. It's not. He deserves to know the truth." I hear her sigh loudly as she waits for me to respond. Only I can't. Because she's right. "Look, Frances," her voice is quiet and calm, "just think about it. He deserves to know the truth about this as much as you deserved to know the truth about what happened between you two ten years ago. And the truth fucking hurts, but maybe it’s time everything is out in the open ."

  I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. I know she can't see me, but I know my best friend and I know she knows I agree with her .

  "Call me when you get home,” she says. “It's getting late, but I'll be up and I need to know you made it back safely ."

  "Okay," I whisper and bite my bottom lip .

  "I love you, Frances, and you're going to get through this and come out stronger on the other end—just as you've always done ."

  "Love you, too, Ash." I disconnect the call just as the tears begin to fall…again .

  * * *

  I t's nearly one in the morning when I finally pull into my neighborhood. A few more blocks and I'll be home—leaving Crescent Ridge and all of that stress behind me. I remember that Ashley wanted me to call, so I quickly press the dial button from my steering wheel, allowing the Bluetooth in my car to call her back. Ringing fills the quiet car until she answers .

  "You made it?" she asks, her voice just above a whisper .

  "Yeah. Just turning down my street right now ."

  "Good. I was getting worried. I figured you should’ve been home by now ."

  "Yeah, you know L.A. traffic," I begin just as a white BMW that I don't recognize comes into view…parked in my driveway. "Ash ?"

  "Yeah?"

  "There's a car in the driveway…" My voice hitches. "I've been trying to call him for the last two days and he hasn't answered or returned any of my calls which is so unlike him." Ted never has people over, and he doesn't really have any friends—this has to be another attorney from the firm and they're working on their case here instead of the office this late at night .

  "Don't panic," she instructs .

  "I'm not panicked," I lie, because something just doesn't seem right .

  "I'll stay on the line with you until you're inside ."

  My heart races as my gut is twisting into knots. I step out of the car, leaving everything behind except my phone and car keys. My hands shake as I fumble with the key in the lock of the front door, finally pushing it open. There on the floor of the foyer sits a Louis Vuitton purse and a pair of black pumps .

  "Oh, Jesus," I mumble as I choke down the wave of nausea rushing through me .

  "Talk to me, Frances," Ashley says, but I can't form any words .

  The house is mostly dark as my feet carry me up the stairs to the master bedroom. "Please, no," I whisper to myself over and over as panic washes over me .

  "Frances," Ashley calls to me, her voice growing more urgent. "Tell me what's happening ."

  I reach the master bedroom doors, pausing as my fingers wrap around the lever handle. I can hear the soft sounds of laughter coming from behind the double doors. Bile rises up into my throat as I turn the handle and push open the door .

  My eyes find a trail of clothes across the bedroom floor and over to the bed where Ted has a woman pinned beneath him. He doesn't even bother to stop fucking her when his head jerks around to find me standing in the doorway, watching him. The woman squeals in delight, not knowing that I'm watching my fiancé fuck her in my bed. I hang up on Ashley as my entire body shakes from the sight of Ted with another woman .

  In one swift motion, I reach for my left hand, yanking the obnoxious diamond ring off my ring finger before throwing it at Ted. It lands with a thud on the bed next to him .

  "Frances!" Ted calls to me in surprise as I turn on my heel and run down the steps and out the front door to my car .

  "Fuck you!" I scream as the door slams closed behind me. I sit momentarily in the driver’s seat, stunned and shocked at what I just walked in on. In a million years, I never would have expected this from Ted. My cell phone rings and rings as Ashley tries to get in touch with me, but I'm too in shock to even form words at the moment .

  Without another thought, I push the start button and back out of the driveway, destination unknown. Funny how life can be a fickle little bitch. In a matter of seven hours, I left my past in Crescent Ridge and lost my future in Los Angeles .

  Thirteen

  T welve hours ago, I watched Frankie drive away from me for the final time. And for twelve hours I've sat on this front porch and stared at the empty driveway across the street, hoping I'll see her pull back in .

  I rub my eyes with the heels of my palms, hopin
g to relieve some of the burning, but nothing will take away the sting of watching her flee. Twice I've watched the woman I love leave—and the second time wasn’t any easier than the first .

  The first time, I was too big of a coward to cross the street and let her go the way she deserved. This time, I begged her to stay and the reality of the pain I caused slapped me in the face .

  Frankie's face twisted in pain at the lies I put in place hurt more than watching her leave. For me, I'll rightfully live my miserable life in the prison of my lies .

  The front door slams across the street and Faith bounds down the rickety steps, twisting a sweater tight around her waist. Her hair is wild and her flip-flops smack the bottom of her feet as she crosses the street. Dammit, she’s headed right for me, and I'm in no fucking mood to deal with her attitude right now .

  "What the fuck do you want, Faith?" I bark from my chair .

  "Why did you pull that shit yesterday, Cole ?"

  "What shit are you speaking of? The one where I asked Frankie not to go—because that's not shit, Faith. That was me laying it on the line." Maybe a decade too late, but at least I did it .

  She snorts and moves closer, narrowing her eyes at me. "Laying it on the line? By telling her about your twisted, fucked up lies, and then hoping she'd forgive you at the drop of a dime and stay ?"

  I push back out of my chair, the legs screeching on the worn wood as I stand up. "Do you have any idea how long I wanted to come clean and tell her the truth? Any idea how much I fucking love that woman? Do you, Faith?" I can feel my blood pressure rising as I move in on her. Rage fills me and my voice booms as I stand over her. "Any fucking idea how much it kills me knowing that she's engaged to someone else?" My voice breaks and I turn around so Faith can't see the tears stinging the back of my eyes. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath .

  "Was engaged—" Faith says, snapping her mouth shut as I quickly turn back to face her .

  "What do mean ‘was ’?"

  She looks away from me and snaps her mouth shut .

  "What do you mean, Faith?" I ask again .

  She turns and looks at me, narrowing her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Cole. She's gone. You chased her away…again ."

  The truth in her words hurt, but I’m not letting it go this time. "No, back up. What the fuck do you mean was engaged, Faith? I'm not asking again. Answer the goddamn question ."

  "It's none of your business," she snaps at me .

  "Oh, it's my business all right. Frankie will always be my business ."

  "Oh, fuck off, Cole ."

  I stand on the porch, my hands clenched in anger. "No, you fuck off. I am so tired of you barking orders at me. What happened was between Frankie and me. And yes, I fucked up. For the rest of my life, I'll live with the regret of my lies. I apologized. I told her the truth—and if I never see her again, all I want is her forgiveness—" Fuck, my voice breaks and I can barely speak against the lump in my throat, but I swallow hard and try. "I love her, Faith. For the rest of my life, until my last breath, I will always love her ."

  Tears float in Faith's eyes and she steps away from me. "Just leave her alone, Cole. That's all I ask. She's hurting so much right now. Your admission, Mom, Ted—she's fraying at the seams and I'm so afraid she's going — "

  I stop her and ask with a plea in my voice. "Tell me what happened with Ted ."

  She sighs and runs her hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. "He cheated on her. She found him in bed with another woman when she got home last night ."

  My jaw ticks wildly and my knuckles hurt from clenching my fists. The rage I felt earlier was nothing compared to what I'm feeling now. "She saw them?" I ask for clarification and Faith simply nods .

  "She's not in a good place right now, Cole. I beg you to please leave her be. She needs time ."

  I rake my hand over my face, trying to calm my anger. "I don't make promises I can't keep, Faith. But I'll tell you this much. I made the mistake of hurting her once. I'll never make that mistake again ."

  Faith purses her lips. "What does that mean ?"

  "That means you can hold me to my word ."

  She throws her arms up in the air and hisses, "Jesus, Cole. I said leave her alone ."

  "Goodbye, Faith!" I bark over my shoulder as I head into the house to pack. If I'm going to Los Angeles for work, I'm going to make this trip worth my while .

  "If you do anything stupid, I'll kill—" The sound of Faith's voice disappears as I slam the door closed behind me .

  * * *

  I startle awake as the airplane glides to a smooth landing in Burbank. The flight was just over an hour and I must’ve slept the entire way because I barely remember putting my seat belt on. That's the most sleep I've had in the past two days, and while I'm exhausted, adrenaline still courses through my veins. I exit the airport to find a driver and town car waiting for me .

  "Mr. Cole, I'm William." The driver reaches out his hand to shake mine before taking my small carry-on .

  I take in the sights as William weaves through the Hollywood Hills like an expert before we pull up to a gated driveway .

  "This is us," he announces as he pushes a button and the large gate rolls open. It amazes me how spacious these home sites are for how many seem to be built next to each other .

  The car rolls slowly down the long drive, surrounded by a large, lush front yard, perfectly manicured with a giant fountain right in the center. The house we pull up to is not what I expected. It's historical, most likely built in the late 1930s. A large garage with six garage doors sits just off and behind the house. William pulls up and parks outside the one open garage stall .

  "Mr. Ryan, I'll inform Mr. Vanderbilt that you're here." He looks at me through the rearview mirror. I nod and open my door as he continues. "I believe the vehicle you'll be looking at is just inside. Feel free to get started ."

  "Thank you," I tell him, stepping out onto the driveway. I take in the large house and the enormous yard, impressed but not overwhelmed. It’s not until I step into the garage that I catch my breath. Sitting before me is a 1971 Corvette LS6. It's in shitty condition, but these are a rare find. Literally. Only one hundred and eighty-eight were ever produced. I've never worked on one and only ever seen one at a luxury car auction. That particular car sold for over two hundred thousand dollars .

  I run my fingers over the faded body and stick my head inside the open window, salivating at the sight of it. It needs everything. A complete overhaul inside and out. I pull out my phone and take a couple of pictures while jotting some notes about the specs .

  "Mr. Ryan!" I hear my name before I hear the footsteps approaching. I whip around to find Jack Vanderbilt strolling across the drive, headed directly toward me. He's shorter than I expected, but his inviting smile makes him approachable, likable. "Jack Vanderbilt. Pleasure to meet you." He reaches out and shakes my hand .

  "Cole Ryan. Please, just call me Cole." He nods, placing his hands on his hips before he stands back and admires the car .

  "How in the hell did you get your hands on one of these?" I shake my head, still in awe of the beauty .

  He huffs out a laugh. "Money ."

  "Well, no shit," I respond and let out a small laugh in return. "Sure makes it easier, huh ?"

  "It sure does." He steps forward and kicks the tire. "I got into cars as a teenager. Used to putz around on them with my grandpa. I never took a liking for fixing them up, but I sure like to drive them." He chuckles. "Your name came up several times when I was looking to purchase this car. Everyone says you're the best in the country. Low profile, good work, honest ."

&nb
sp; I swallow as he talks about me. It's weird to hear my name gets tossed around in circles that Jack Vanderbilt runs in .

  I turn to look at him and a sense of pride washes over me. If I've done anything right in my life, it was starting this business. "I appreciate that," I tell him. "And this car here is a dream. I'd be honored if you'd let me restore it ."

  He circles the car, inspecting it alongside me. "So what do you think it will cost to restore it ?"

  "Depends on what it looks like under the hood. My guess, from the condition on the outside, is that everything will need to be replaced. Engine, motor, the whole nine yards. You're easily looking at one seventy-five, maybe closer to two ."

  He doesn't bat an eye at the numbers I've just thrown at him. "Let's do it," he says, clapping me on the shoulder .

  "Sounds good. I'll draw up a contract and have it sent over. Fifty percent down, and remaining balance is due at delivery. I'll have my guys come and load the car and transport it to my shop once we've both signed the contract. Timing will be difficult to nail down because getting these parts will be the trickiest part of the job ."

  Jack stands with his hands on his hips and a giant smile on his face. "Understood. I don't care if it takes two years, I want this baby back in pristine condition ."

  "And that you will." I reach out my hand to shake his. My dad always taught me that a handshake was the way to seal a business deal. He never dealt with contracts, but when I'm working on vehicles that will cost upward of a quarter of a million dollars when I'm done, a contract is what we do .

  "I look forward to working with you, man." He looks at his watch and points to the house. "I have to run, but I'll tell my assistant to be expecting the contract ."

  "Yes, sir ."

  "Jack," he corrects me. "And William will take you wherever you need to go ."

  "Thank you. I'll be in touch." And just like that, Jack Vanderbilt disappears .

 

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