After The Fire (One Pass Away Book 3)

by Mary J. Williams

  “I’m sorry about your mother.”

  For a second, Violet looked as though she might cry. But she took a deep breath and took his hand from across the table, squeezing lightly.

  “It was a shock. On every level. Her diagnosis. How quickly her cancer progressed. Up to the last, I kept expecting a miracle. My education and experience didn’t matter. As a doctor, I knew she had no chance, but as a daughter, I refused to give up.”

  “Watching someone you love die… I can’t imagine what that’s like. How is your father holding up?”

  “He’s doing better.”

  “Is that a but I hear?”

  Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s difficult for him. I don’t think he’s ever lived alone, and now he has to come home every night to an empty house filled with memories. I would suggest he sell and find a smaller place, but it’s too soon. When, or if, he decides to make a change, he’ll know when the time is right.”

  Gaige took a deep breath. “About the letter.”

  “Which one?”

  “Let’s take it chronologically.” This was harder than he thought it would be. “I was in love with you.”

  When Violet gasped, Gaige wanted to kick himself in the ass. There were a dozen ways he could have started, but instead of easing in, he had to throw out the L word.

  “Thank you!” Violet laughed. She brought his hand to her lips, kissing the palm. “I wanted to say that. I almost wrote it in my letter, but I chickened out. I was in love with you, Gaige. My mother dismissed my feelings as the equivalent of Florence Nightingale Syndrome. You were kind to me at a particularly vulnerable time in my life. In her mind, it wasn’t love.”

  “It was.”

  “Yes.” Nodding, she met his gaze. “It might be again. That’s what I meant when I said I was all in. I like you. Sexually, we’re compatible.”

  “To put it mildly.”

  “It’s an important element. I found that out after I made the mistake of marrying a man I hadn’t slept with.”

  “Wait,” Gage held up a hand. “Take a step back. No premarital sex?”

  “None.”

  “Was he gay?”

  “Probably not. Monty remarried a week after our divorce was final. He and his new wife sent me a baby announcement nine months later.”

  “What an asshole.” Violet didn’t seem upset, but he wanted to punch the guy in the face.

  “I don’t know if it was a passive/aggressive fuck you, or it could be his new bride is a clueless twit. I didn’t care enough to find out. He got what he wanted—a stay-at-home wife and a baby. I got what I wanted—no more Monty.”

  When she put it like that, it didn’t sound as bad. Besides, Violet was a free woman. That’s all that mattered to Gaige.

  “We’ve gotten off the subject,” she said. “We used to do that a lot.”

  “Like good jazz, we riffed off each other. Our conversations never stayed on one subject for long. I couldn’t wait to find out where it would go. Talking to you was an adventure. It was the thing I missed most.” His eyes moved to her mouth. “Besides your smile.”

  “I missed it, too.”

  “Here we go.” Kimber arrived with their food. Violet laughed as the waitress put plate after plate on the table.

  “I might have gotten carried away. That hamburger is large enough to feed three people.”

  “I have a few friends who would consider that an appetizer.”

  “Who?” Violet picked up the burger, examining it from several angles before taking a bite.”

  “Every linebacker I’ve ever met. Specifically, Sol Fellows. He can put away five or six of those without blinking an eye.”

  “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

  “Kimber?” Gaige asked when the waitress came back to refill his coffee. “What did Sol order the last time he was here?”

  “To start? The stuffed zucchini blossoms and fried mushrooms. That was the day the cook had gumbo as a special. Sol loves gumbo. After that, he went with the club sandwich, fries, and a coke. Then—”

  “Okay.” Violet laughed, holding up her hands in defeat. “I believe you. You have an impressive memory, Kimber.”

  “Sol is a memorable guy.”

  “Ketchup?”

  “Thanks.” Violet squirted some onto her French fries. “I don’t expect you to marry me.”

  “Is marriage out of the question?”

  The question seemed to surprise her. “I’m not opposed to it.”

  “Good. Neither am I.”

  “Gaige,” Violet sighed.

  “Violet.” He stopped her before she could continue. “I understand what you mean. You didn’t fly across the country with wedding bells on the brain.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you were a little leery. Women must throw themselves at you all the time. Some of them looking to snare a rich and famous husband.”

  “Don’t forget good looking.”

  “I never forget that.” Violet pushed a French fry around her plate. “According to Dad, Mom was worried about your fame. She said you were too rich and too handsome. You wouldn’t remain faithful because of the many temptations.”

  “Temptation isn’t why a man cheats,” he informed her.

  “No?”

  “A man cheats because he wants to, Violet. It doesn’t matter how many women are available. One or one million. If he wants to say no, he will. If he doesn’t, he won’t.”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  But Gaige knew there was more to it.

  “The problem wasn’t my potential infidelity, Violet. It was my father.”

  Suddenly, the elephant in the room didn’t lurk in the corner. Gaige had thrown it down on the table, bringing the conversation to a crashing halt. It wasn’t an easy subject for him to address, but he had to know Violet’s feelings. In her letter, she said his father didn’t matter. Would that be true the next time the bastard reared his ugly head? Gaige had distanced himself from his past as thoroughly as possible.

  Sixteen years ago Gaige, with the help of his agent, had been able to keep Violet’s name out of the press. It was different now. In this world of search engines and nosey bloggers who refused to let anything stay buried, now that he and Violet had reconnected, it was inevitable that their history would come out. She needed to be prepared.

  “Why is this an issue?” she demanded. “You weren’t driving the car, Gaige. You didn’t shield your father or make excuses for him.”

  “He’s part of me, Violet.” Gaige struggled to find the best way to explain. “It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes I feel something dark closing in on me.”

  “If you make a Star Wars reference, I swear I’ll throw my milkshake in your face.”

  In spite of himself, Gaige smiled. “I wish this was a movie, but it isn’t. Your mother believed that blood will tell. Maybe she was right.”

  “Fuck that. Yes, I said fuck,” she nodded when Gaige raised his eyebrows. “It isn’t a word I use often, but when it fits, I don’t shy away. Why do you want to embrace any part of your father?”

  “I don’t want to.” Didn’t she get it? He couldn’t change his DNA. “Embrace is the wrong word. I don’t want it; it just is.”

  “You know what? I’ve lost my appetite. Pay the check.” Violet grabbed her purse and jacket. “I’ll meet you outside.”

  Gaige didn’t try to stop her. He signaled Kimber.

  “Where’d your friend go?” The waitress shook her head when she saw all the uneaten food.

  “She wasn’t feeling well.” It was going around. Gaige felt a little sick to his stomach himself. “Can you bring me the bill? And, Kimber, box up the pie.”

  VIOLET PACED THE sidewalk. She didn’t have a volatile personality. She was slow to anger and quick to forget. However, when she was pushed hard enough, she could go off with the best of them.

  Listening to Gaige had set her blood boiling. He was nothing like his father. She knew it for a fact
. Her research of Gaige’s life hadn’t been all pretty pictures of him in his uniform and the women he dated. There had been plenty of ugly, too.

  Don Benson was a serial abuser. It didn’t take a psych degree to figure it out. The blurbs were few and far between, but they added up to a story of a man who beat his wife. He was never arrested because she refused to press charges. But the police were called to the Benson home at least five times in one year alone.

  Gaige’s father hit his wife on a regular basis. No one could dispute that fact. And from everything Violet could tell, he never felt an ounce of remorse. Not about his wife or the accident that changed her life.

  She had found four articles. They were similar to the ones her father had shown her a few months after her accident. She had wanted the details even though her mother insisted she should let it go. But her father understood. He knew that she would look it up on her own. He sat with her while she read what happened.

  Neither Violet nor Gaige was mentioned by name. At the time, she was grateful to be left out of the mess. Would it have made a difference if she had known who he was? She still would have believed that he took back the letter and wanted nothing to do with her. The fact that he was famous might have explained his reasons, but it wouldn’t have changed what her mother led her to believe were the facts.

  When she read the articles, all these years later, Violet felt oddly removed. As though it happened to someone else. She was able to look at the facts without the emotion she had felt when she was nineteen.

  The first gave a sketchy outline of the details. A hit and run by a drunk driver. The victim sustained serious but non-life-threatening injuries.

  The next story delved a little deeper into the accused, Don Benson. He had been arrested that night, witnesses leading the police to him almost immediately. His blood alcohol level had registered way over the legal limit. Enough to impair three grown men. There was a colorful account of the arrest.

  Don Benson didn’t go quietly. Sporting a gash on his forehead and his arm in a homemade sling, he yelled, cursed, and blindly swung at the police, causing significant damage to the residence. They had to hold him down to cuff him.

  The whole time, his wife, Wynona, cried and screamed that they were making a horrible mistake. Her husband had been with her all evening. She would swear to it. Too many people gave statements to the contrary for that to fly. But to the bitter end, she stuck by her story. According to Wynona, Don Benson was the victim.

  Apparently, Don Benson wised up. The third article was short and to the point. He pleaded no contest. In exchange for agreeing to spend thirty days in an alcohol rehabilitation facility and continue counseling for at least two years, the judge suspended his driver’s license and sent him on his way. It was the equivalent of a slap on the wrist.

  Violet couldn’t imagine what the judge had been thinking. As the prosecutor argued, Don Benson was obviously a danger to his wife and the community. Sympathy should have been in short supply for such a man, yet for whatever reason, Gaige’s father seemed to walk under a lucky star. Others suffered while he went free to cause chaos again and again.

  The final article was really nothing more than a squib. Don Benson completed rehab and was released. Nothing more. Had he kept his nose clean ever since? Whatever he did, and Violet was certain he was guilty of something, he hadn’t gotten caught.

  “Are you trying to wear a hole in the sidewalk?”

  Violet stopped and looked at Gaige.

  “Are you trying to be funny?”

  “Yes.” When she didn’t respond, he held up a bright red box with the diner’s logo on it. “I have pie?”

  Violet felt a bit of her anger fade. She wasn’t mad at Gaige—not really. He was so well adjusted—so sexy and fun to be with—it was easy to forget the environment he grew up in. It made perfect sense that every time he fell into a funk, he worried that it was his father bubbling to the surface. He should know better, but appearances aside, Gaige Benson wasn’t superhuman. He had his insecurities—just like the rest of us.

  Violet wanted him to know that she understood. But she wasn’t going to do it outside of the diner where everyone could watch.

  “Take me back to my hotel so I can pack.” Violet started across the street.

  “Are you leaving?” Gaige jogged beside her. “Are you going back to New York?”

  “Not until Tuesday.” Violet waited for him to open the passenger door. Even during a fight, he was a gentleman. “Until then, I’m moving in with you. Unless you have a problem with that.”

  Gaige grinned. “No problem at all.”

  When he leaned in to kiss her, Violet stopped him, her hand planted firmly on his chest. “Look at the diner.”

  The big plate-glass windows on each side of the door were filled with spectators, enjoying the drama playing out for their entertainment.

  “Every one of them has a phone. The pictures they’ve taken will garner some interest. But a kiss will show up on TMZ. The lead story, if it’s a slow news day. I’d rather skip that experience.”

  “You get used to it.” But he didn’t argue, helping her into the car.

  “Again with the jokes,” Violet said when he slid behind the wheel.

  Gaige started the car and pulled into traffic. “Who said I was joking?”

  GETTING VIOLET SETTLED at his place didn’t take long.

  She had two bags, one large, one small. Gaige didn’t give her the option of staying in one of the guest rooms. Why press his luck? She was here. In his home. Putting her clothes in his closet next to his. Tonight, he would hold her in his arms as she drifted off to sleep—after they made love.

  Would you like to stay in the room down the hall? Hell no!

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked as they walked down the long staircase.

  “No, thank you.” Violet took his hand, stopping to admire the view. “It feels like so much time has passed since we stood here. But it was only a few days ago.”

  “A lot has happened.” And so much still needed to be said.

  “The lights on the water are beautiful. Do you spend time on your deck when the weather is nice?”

  “If I’m home, I’m outdoors.”

  When Gaige purchased the land on Lake Washington, he did it with the idea of building his dream home from the ground up. He had an idea what he wanted. Big, open rooms. Windows that reached from floor to ceiling to take advantage of the beautiful Pacific Northwest scenery.

  Gaige hadn’t rushed to get the house done. He took his time because he wanted it done right. This would be his home for a long time—maybe the rest of his life. Perfect he could live without. However, it had to be as close as possible.

  The house was comfortable. Exactly what he envisioned—but there had always been something missing. Until Violet walked through the door. For the first time, it felt like home.

  “Let’s wrap up our discussion.” Violet led him to the sofa.

  “Are you still pissed off?”

  “No. But it will happen again if you ever compare yourself to Don Benson. Technically, he’s your father. I consider him nothing but a sperm donor.”

  “I hate him.”

  “I’m right there with you.”

  “I wish I didn’t.” It was difficult to explain something he struggled to understand, but he tried. “I would love not to feel anything. Anger takes energy. He’s not worth it.”

  “How often do you think about him?”

  “Rarely. Only when my mother decides it’s time to remind me.”

  “Then I say keep hating him. Forgetting him—what he’s done—isn’t possible. Not for either of us. If we let ourselves indulge in some good old-fashioned anger now and then, where’s the harm?”

  “I would agree if it were only that.” God, how to say this. “There are moments. Not often, but very real, when I fall into a pit.”

  “Depression?” He could see the worry in Violet’s eyes.

  “Not exactly. I
feel the need to get out of my head. I want to leave Gaige Benson behind for a few hours. Does that make sense?”

  Violet wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling close. It felt good—she felt good.

  “What do you do when you feel that way?”

  “I pick a bar. There are two or three that I like. Then I start drinking.” Considering his father was a fall-down-drunk alcoholic, Gaige wasn’t proud of his choices. “I don’t get shit-faced, but I maintain a definite buzz.”

  “And what, sit in a corner and brood?” Violet asked. “Or do you find somebody to play with?”

  “Well, hell. How did you figure that out so fast?”

  “You’re a social person, Gaige. It makes sense that you would seek out… companionship. I’m not a big fan of one-night stands, but you’re a big boy. As long it doesn’t hurt anyone, it’s your business.”

  “I got in a fight. Once.”

  “Oh, brother.”

  He heard exasperation, not disgust in Violet’s voice. That was good.

  “I threw one punch. He hit me back. End of story.”

  “Are you crazy?” Violet took his hand, turning it from side to side. “You make a living with these. Did you break any bones?”

  “It was years ago,” Gaige laughed. “And no, not even a bruise. My face wasn’t as lucky.”

  “What?” Violet bolted upright. Taking hold of his chin, she leaned in close. “I don’t see any scars. Where did the jerk hit you?”

  “Here.” He pointed to his right cheek and was rewarded with Violet’s tender kiss. “I like that. It makes me wish he’d done more damage.”

  “At least tell me you gave as good as you got.”

  “He left with a bloody nose. The next day I tracked him down and paid to get it x-rayed. There was plenty of swelling but no break.” When he saw the look Violet gave him, he asked, “What?”

  “You’re worried about demons?” She peppered his face with kisses. “You big sweetheart. Bad guys don’t take their victims to the doctor, Gaige.”