Welcome To Redemption: Series Collection (Books 1-6)

by Donna Marie Rogers

  “You’re making it damn near impossible.”

  He felt her smile. More than anything he wanted to take what she so generously offered, but deep down he knew he was only prolonging the inevitable.

  “Dana…I, ah, I have to ask you something—before I lose my nerve, or you drag me over the line where it’s impossible to form a coherent thought again.”

  “Go ahead, ask.” She leaned back slightly, her hips snug against his and oh so distracting. He swallowed hard, his mind and body at war.

  Finally, he took a deep breath and forced the words out. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. About talking to my family.”

  She stiffened slightly in his arms. “Are you going to do it?”

  “I want to.” He nodded once decisively. “Yes.”

  “That’s good. I really think you need to.”

  “I…well…” He cleared his throat. “I hoped you’d come with me.”

  She slid her arms down, rested her hands lightly against his chest. Something flashed in her eyes, but the dim light filtering in from the living room didn’t allow him to define it, and then she lowered her head. “That’s kind of a personal thing. And I’ve never even met them yet.”

  “I don’t know if I can do it alone,” he said softly, teeth clenched against the admission. “I just need you to be there for moral support. I know it’s asking a lot, but…”

  “It’s okay, Charlie.” Her gaze flicked to his for a split second, then back down as she sighed softly. “Of course I’ll come with you.”

  His eyes narrowed. Something didn’t feel right, didn’t sound right in her voice. He tipped her chin up. Her eyes seemed a little bright. “You’re sure?”

  She smiled and reached to lay her hand against his cheek. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be there for you.”

  Emotion swelled and tightened his chest. Hugging her tight, he buried his face in her soft curls. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

  She didn’t move for a long moment, then pushed away to open the front door. “When were you thinking of doing this?”

  Giving her the space she now seemed to want, Charlie stepped out onto the porch and shoved his hands in his front pockets. “Tomorrow morning, if that’s okay with you? We usually have Sunday brunch around ten o’clock. It’s not a big deal, just my mom and dad, and Tara and Wes.”

  “Tomorrow’s fine.” Her eyes met his, still shadowed, and then she stepped forward and reached on tiptoe to press her lips to his. “Good night, Charlie.”

  His reply was lost with the closing of the door. Lifting a hand to brush his fingers against his lips, Charlie stared at the house with a frown. Something had happened in between their searing passion upstairs and just now. Even a blind man would’ve felt the difference.

  He reached his hand to knock on the door, then clenched his fist and spun around toward his truck. Let her be tonight. He’d talk to her in the morning and tell her to forget it. Despite her reassurance that she didn’t mind coming with him, it was the only thing that explained her sudden withdrawal. If it made her that uncomfortable to meet his family so soon, then he’d wait to talk to everyone. Either until she got to know everyone, or he had the guts to face them alone.

  It’d waited this long, another couple weeks wouldn’t matter. Deep down, he had a feeling that giving this thing between him and Dana a fair chance was more important than clearing his conscience.

  Chapter 8

  Sugar almost jerked his arm out of its socket when Charlie rounded the corner on the way to Allie’s house the next morning. His pulse leapt at the sight of Dana walking down the shaded sidewalk, gorgeous as ever. She had her wild curls pulled back on the sides, exposing her neck above a clingy short-sleeved pink sweater. Brief flashes of kissing the sensitive spot in the hollow of her throat last night played in his mind. His blood heated, despite the festering memory of her abrupt withdrawal.

  “Hi,” she greeted as they drew closer.

  Charlie didn’t realize how tense he was until she smiled and his shoulders relaxed. “Morning. What have you got there?”

  “I made some blueberry muffins.” She propped the pan in her hands against one hip and reached to pet Sugar.

  “You didn’t have to do that.” They were only his favorite. Had Allie told her?

  “I didn’t want to show up empty handed.”

  He let his gaze skim down Dana’s slim figure. Her faded jeans clung to her hips like a soft, second skin. The sexy red toe nails peeking out of her sandals reminded him of the mind-blowing red dress from last night. She started walking the direction he’d come from, and Charlie ruthlessly refocused his attention.

  Hurrying after her, he caught her arm. “Listen, about this morning—”

  She spun around, her eyes narrowed. “You’re not chickening out, are you?”

  The challenging, almost angry tone of her voice not only surprised him, but sent him on the defensive. Not to mention majorly offended his ego. “Of course not. I—”

  “Good.”

  She marched on as if on a mission. With Sugar glued to her side, Charlie had little choice but to follow. Her welcome had lulled him into a false sense of security, but now she was acting strange again, and his confusion grew with each silent moment. Clearly she wanted him to talk to his family, only now she seemed angry with him instead of uncomfortable. The knots in his stomach twisted unmercifully.

  When they arrived at the house where he lived with his parents, he reached down to unhook Sugar’s leash. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Dana take a deep breath and rub her palm against the side of her jeans. He glanced over in time to catch a hesitant smile as she admitted, “I’m a little nervous.”

  Was that all it was? Their gazes connected. Awareness thickened the air between them. Charlie stepped closer, and her eyes widened slightly as he leaned down to kiss her for reassurance.

  “Hey, Charlie!”

  Tara’s voice broke the moment. Charlie straightened reluctantly when Dana’s attention swung to the end of the driveway, where Tara and Wes took turns pacifying an over-excited Sugar.

  “Wow,” Dana commented.

  “Sugar’s got a thing for Wes. That’s how he and Tara met—Sugar puked on him.”

  “Ew. How did that happen?”

  “Wes tells it best, so ask him later.”

  “After we eat, I would imagine?”

  “Please.”

  Despite the smile curving her lips, Charlie noticed Dana wipe her palms again, so just before Tara and Wes joined them, he leaned closer and whispered, “Picture them both wearing dog puke.”

  She nearly choked on a laugh and Charlie bit back his own grin before turning to introduce Dana. One glance at his sister’s speculative brown gaze effectively erased his humor. He could practically see the questions lining up in her mind, which is exactly why he’d kept silent about Dana joining them this morning. The Russell Family Third Degree was not something a person volunteered for.

  He should’ve realized springing Dana on them at the last minute wouldn’t matter, because Tara simply took Dana’s arm and led her inside while plying her with questions and observations.

  The moment he heard his sister say, “Charlie’s never brought anyone to brunch before,” he wanted to deck her—with brotherly love, of course. Instead he growled his annoyance under his breath.

  Wes’s elbow connected with his ribs. “You grew up with her, you should’ve known better.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect her to lead with that,” Charlie grumbled. He tried to catch Dana’s eye, but they’d entered the kitchen by then, capturing the full attention of his mom and dad. He stepped forward and laid his hand against the small of Dana’s back.

  “Dana, these are my parents, Kurt and Jackie Russell. Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Dana McClain. She’s Allie’s cousin from Minnesota.”

  His mom shook Dana’s hand and gave her a warm smile. “Nice to meet you, Dana.”

  His dad braced his palms f
lat on the counter, eyes narrowed. “Better not be a Viking fan.”

  “Dad.” Charlie gave him a dark look. He cursed his own stupidity while his mom backhanded Kurt on the arm.

  Dana simply held out the pan of muffins. When his dad accepted them, she gave a sweet smile and declared, “Loud and proud.”

  Kurt let out a surprised chuckle. He lifted the lid and sniffed appreciatively at the homemade muffins before tossing a grin at Dana. “Lucky you brought these, then.”

  Dana’s laugh wiped away Charlie’s embarrassment over his family, especially when he saw her visibly relax. After his mom transferred the muffins to a basket, everyone carried a dish into the formal dining room. Dana slid right into the fold and Charlie felt another knot of tension ease.

  Tara snagged Charlie’s arm before he could follow Dana with the pitcher of orange juice. “If I weren’t so happy with Wes, I’d be hopping mad right now.”

  “Why?”

  “You never had to go through what I have. It took all of, what, two seconds before Dad totally accepted her? And a Viking fan at that.” Tara scowled. “Don’t get comfortable too fast, though, Mom’s the real test for you,” she warned as she moved past.

  Charlie rolled his eyes and went to take a seat next to Dana, across from Tara and Wes. Then, unable to help himself, he snuck glances at his mom, trying to read her expression as she chatted with Dana about the town of Redemption. His mom’s smile seemed genuine, her tone interested without ringing false. Good thing, too, because he had a feeling Dana would see right through that. It was slightly unsettling—but in a good way—how much he wanted his family to like her, and vice versa.

  While reaching for the butter, his gaze collided with Tara’s. He stared her down with a smirk, but she didn’t give up until Wes reached over to cover her hand with his on the table. She gave Wes a smile as he threaded their fingers together.

  Charlie started to look back at his mom, but Tara put her other hand on the table and a flash snagged his attention. He squinted at her fingers just as Wes loudly cleared his throat. Silverware clinked, then silence fell as all eyes focused on the two of them. Charlie guessed what was coming even before Tara smiled and held up her left hand to show off its shiny new addition.

  “Wes proposed last night.”

  Congratulations sounded around the table, and Charlie echoed them, but with a heavy heart. Not that he wasn’t happy for his sister. Anyone could see the love she and Wes shared, and she deserved every bit of happiness coming her way, but how in the hell could he drop his bomb on them all now, in the middle of the celebration?

  He felt a touch on his knee under the table. Awareness tingled up his leg, and he looked over to see Dana watching him, concern shadowing her eyes. With a start, he realized she understood exactly what he was feeling at the moment. Her silent support formed a lump in his throat even as his dad raised his coffee cup in a toast.

  Charlie did his best to maintain a carefree front, but as brunch progressed, he fell into brooding silence. Everyone had finished eating and now lingered over a last cup of coffee or tea, discussing their plans for the day. All he could think about was driving to that damn party with Annabel.

  Charlie looked up when he felt Dana’s touch again. She raised her eyebrows in silent question, but he shook his head. She leaned close. “Charlie…”

  “Not now,” he ground out.

  Her fingers tightened on his leg. “You need to do this.”

  He drew in a deep frustrated breath and pushed her hand away. Once more, conversation faded in the room, only this time everyone watched him and Dana. Dana offered a brief smile to his family before giving Charlie a firm stare. He didn’t say a word. If she understood like he thought she did, she’d drop the subject.

  She finally averted her gaze, and he relaxed slightly.

  “Charlie asked me here this morning because he has something important he wants to talk to you all about.”

  He glared at Dana, unable to believe she’d forced the issue. What the hell kind of a psychologist was she?

  “What is it, Charlie?”

  His gaze jerked to his mom. The concern in her expression blurred, and he blinked fast to eliminate the moisture in his eyes. Looking in turn at Tara, then his Dad, he clenched his jaw, his fist, and his whole body followed. Even the return of Dana’s soothing touch didn’t help after her betrayal. He jerked his leg away from her hand.

  “What’s going on?” Tara pressed.

  He didn’t really have much choice now. He cleared his throat, then did it again, unable to string the words into a sentence that didn’t sound so bad. Just say it, damn it. He swallowed hard and stared at the wall over Tara’s shoulder.

  “I drove Annabel to the party.”

  Dead silence.

  Tara shifted uncomfortably in her chair. His dad lowered his coffee cup, the ceramic clinking against his silverware. His mother remained perfectly still.

  “I should’ve told you all sooner, but I couldn’t face you before now.”

  “Charlie, you don’t have to do this—”

  He shook his head at his sister. “I can’t live with the guilt anymore. So even if you all blame me, I had to tell you. Just say it and get it over with. I know it’s my fault.”

  “Don’t you say that!” his mom burst out.

  “I should’ve made her stay home. I should’ve protected her,” he argued.

  Then he met his mother’s anguished gaze and it took a moment for him to realize the guilt ripping him apart inside was mirrored in her face.

  “Annabel was going to that party no matter what,” Tara murmured, echoing Dana’s words from the other day. “If you hadn’t given her a ride, she’d have gone with Roy.”

  Charlie’s gaze sliced to her. Tara wouldn’t meet his eyes and an odd sensation tingled across his skin. He looked at his dad who had yet to say a word, then stared in shock at the tears on his cheeks. But there was no anger, no blame.

  Only guilt.

  It dawned on him with startling clarity that his gut-twisting statement hadn’t surprised a single one of them. His throat constricted.

  “You all knew already.”

  The quiet accusation settled in the room. Dana’s hand covered his, and this time he instinctively grasped the lifeline. “All this time and not one of you thought to tell me you knew?”

  A strangled sound from his mother’s side of the table told him she was crying now, too, but he couldn’t look at her. It was Tara who answered.

  “We talked about it once after the funeral, but seeing as you seemed to handle her death better than any of us, we decided not to say anything because we didn’t want you to think somehow you were to blame, or that any of us blamed you, because we don’t.”

  “That’s exactly why I never said anything, because I thought you would blame me.”

  “The only blame lies on whoever slipped her the drugs.”

  His father’s choked declaration should’ve made Charlie feel better, but it was too late. Fourteen years too late. All the guilt, all the torture he’d put himself through—if just one of them had talked to him.

  Searing, unexplainable anger burned through him. Emotion welled up in a roiling, boiling tidal wave of rage. He wrenched his trembling hand free of Dana’s and shoved back from the table. As his chair toppled behind him, he grabbed his empty coffee cup and hurled it across the room.

  Chapter 9

  Shattered ceramic pinged on the hardwood floors. Dana stared after Charlie in shock as a collective gasp sucked the air out of the room. A door slammed seconds later, shaking the pictures on the wall. His family sat frozen, until Kurt Russell pushed his chair back and started around the table.

  Dana shot to her feet. “No! Stay here. It’s better if I go.”

  She didn’t give them a chance to argue before running through the kitchen after Charlie. As she opened the door to the garage, a deafening roar filled her ears. Sans helmet, Charlie revved the engine of a huge motorcycle, looking like the devil o
n a mission to Hell.

  She lunged forward and pulled at his arm, calling his name over the noise. He gave no indication he heard her, only shifted to lift up the kickstand. In this state of mind, Dana feared for his safety. Desperation forced her in front of the bike.

  “Move,” he snarled.

  She shook her head, her gaze locked with his furious, pain-filled brown eyes that she loved so much. He revved the engine again, but she stood her ground. He’d have to run her over before she’d let him risk killing himself.

  Abruptly, he cut the engine and swung off the bike. Her relief was short lived when he strode past her without a word. She hurried to catch up, laying a hand on the rigid muscles of his back to let him know he had her support.

  He shook her off with a rough jerk of his shoulder.

  “Talk to me, Charlie.”

  He walked faster. Dana moved in front of him, scrambling backwards as she tried to stop him with both hands on his chest. “You asked me to help you with this, now tell me what you’re feeling. Just let it out.”

  He switched direction. His long strides carried him across the street, but Dana dogged his heels. “Stop running. They don’t blame you—they never did. Didn’t you hear your sister?”

  He halted so fast, Dana almost tripped on the sidewalk.

  “So many wasted years.” His raw, hoarse words seemed to scrape his throat.

  “They were trying to protect you,” she reasoned. “You never talked to them, either, Charlie, so how could they have known?”

  His gaze met hers, only to bounce away as he raked a hand through his hair. He didn’t look angry anymore, just soul-deep sad. And that’s when Dana finally understood.

  “You aren’t angry with them, are you?”

  A shuddering sigh escaped as he shook his head. “I was so worried about them blaming me, so afraid they wouldn’t forgive me, that I never gave them a chance to help me forgive myself.” He turned away from her, his voice full of disgust. “Look at me with my tattoos and Harley, thinking I can make a difference as an EMT. When in reality I’m nothing but a fricken coward.”