by Beth Andrews
No, it hadn’t been a rocket that had saved her. But a man. A handsome, dark-haired, broad-shouldered man in a tailored, grey suit who’d come at Michael like some bastard-seeking missile sent by the wrath of God.
“Are you okay?” Oakes Bartasavich asked her over his shoulder, all calm and collected, as if slowly crushing another person’s windpipe was just one of those things he did every day.
Maybe she was concussed. Hallucinating. Or else she’d stepped into some alternate reality, where Zach’s older half brother, a mild-mannered bajillionaire law student who used his words instead of his fists, swooped in and saved the day.
“Daphne,” he said, his voice a bit sharper, his green eyes narrowed. “Are you hurt?”
“Yes.”
His expression darkened to something very scary and un-Oakes-like before he turned back to Michael. “You son of a bitch,” Oakes hissed, leveraging more of his weight against her father’s throat, practically bending him in half. Michael’s eyes bugged out and he made horrible, gagging, gasping sounds.
“No, wait.” Crap. She rushed over and touched Oakes’s upper arm, surprised by how solid his muscles were, how...bulky. She had no idea he was so built. She tugged on his sleeve until he looked at her. “I meant, yes, I’m okay. I’m not hurt.”
But he didn’t seem to be getting it, just stared at her, rage in his eyes, his mouth a grim line. Was he in shock? Or pushed over the edge? Either way, it was up to her to talk him down. She stepped closer, sort of...stroked his arm, trying to soothe him out of this temper. Trying to bring back the man she knew. “Oakes, I’m not hurt. Really. Please let him go. He’s not worth it.”
Not worth Oakes getting into trouble over, or worse, being arrested for assault or whatever people got arrested for when they attacked drunks on the grounds of a private high school.
Finally, thankfully, Oakes blinked. He stepped back and lowered his arm. Michael sagged against the banister.
“Call 911,” Oakes told Daphne.
“What? No.” She shook her head. “No, no, no.”
He speared her with a narrow, dark look. Who was this man? Oakes was usually all smiles and charm. In the four years she’d known him she’d never, not once, seen him get even remotely angry. He was always patient, laid-back and...well...even. No ups or downs for Oakes Bartasavich. He was like the calmest of lakes. Placid.
And now he looked as if he wanted to slam her father’s head against the concrete floor, oh...a dozen or so times.
“He assaulted you,” Oakes said in a tone most people used to explain things that are obvious. The sky is blue. The sun rises in the east. “He should be arrested.”
“Assaulted?” Michael repeated, his voice raspy. “You attacked me.” He drew himself up, obviously feeling confident, if not downright cocky, now that Oakes hadn’t killed him. “The only one getting arrested will be you.”
Oakes whirled on her father. “You had your hands on her.”
“We were just having a little disagreement, that’s all.” Michael glanced at her. “Isn’t that right, Daphne?”
Both sets of eyes were on her. Waiting. Both expecting her to do, to say, what they wanted.
One of them would be disappointed. She was sorry it had to be Oakes.
“I just want him to leave,” she told Oakes softly, refusing to lie outright to him about what had happened. “Could you...could you please just make him leave? Like I said, he’s not worth the trouble.”
“You heard her,” he told Michael. “Get out of here. Now.”
Michael smoothed back his greasy hair. Attempted to straighten his shirt, but nothing short of a miracle would accomplish that. Edging away from Oakes, he stopped by Daphne. Spoke quietly. “We’re not done, little girl.”
She flinched, wanted to move, but was frozen. Luckily, Oakes wasn’t. He stepped between them, all big and broad and protective. A wall between her and her mistake. “You know who I am,” he said to her father.
It wasn’t so much a question as a statement, but Michael sneered and answered him anyway. “You’re one of them Bartasavich bastards.” He inclined his head toward Daphne. “Like her brother.”
“You know who I am,” Oakes repeated. “So you know what I’m capable of. My stepfather is a judge. My father has connections across the country. If you so much as look at Daphne again, if you so much as come close enough to breathe the same air as her, I will make sure your life is more of a living hell than it already is. There’s no place you can hide from me. Do you understand?”
“I ain’t scared of you, boy. Or your family.”
But he looked scared. He looked terrified.
“If that’s true,” Oakes said, “then you’re even dumber than I thought.”
Michael swallowed before his face twisted and he turned back to her. “You’re the one who’s not worth it,” he told Daphne before pushing past her and walking toward the exit sign.
She watched him go, her arms hugged around herself.
You’re not worth it. What if that was true?
Oakes touched her shoulder, his hand warm and light. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She faced him and his hand dropped away. “You know.” Her voice was tight with unshed tears so she stopped. Cleared her throat. “You know who he is.”
“I suspected,” he admitted. “When I got a better look at him.”
Oh, God. Heat bloomed in her face. She was probably as red as a freaking stoplight. “How?”
He shrugged, all elegant and out-of-place on a school walkway in his expensive suit. “I recognized him from the few times he was with your mom when she dropped off or picked up Zach from Dad’s house.”
Zach had been forced to stay with his father, Clinton Bartasavich, every other weekend and at least one holiday a year until he’d turned eighteen. She guessed it made sense that Oakes, along with his and Zach’s two older half brothers, had been there, too.
“I’m sorry, Daphne.”
She frowned. She was the one who should be apologizing. Begging for forgiveness, from him and Zach and her mother. “For what?”
“That your father tracked you here. Today, especially.”
That was her out. All she had to do was stay quiet. Or, better yet, thank him for coming to her rescue, maybe make some vague comment about Michael showing up as if she’d been completely surprised to hear from him, see him, after all these years.
“He didn’t track me down,” she blurted. As usual, her words were well ahead of her thoughts. “I mean...he did track me down. But he didn’t...track me down. You know?”
“No. I have no idea.”
She curled her fingers into the material of her graduation gown. “It’s just...he knew I was here because I sort of...told him.”
He gave a slight head shake. “You told him?” he asked, his careful tone not hiding his surprise. His disappointment. “Why would you do that?”
His reaction killed her. Made her feel worse than ever. His question surprised her. Her mom and Zach would be more focused on what she’d done. Not why she’d done it.
If they found out the truth, Susan would lay the mother—no pun intended—of all guilt trips on her, one laced with plenty of maternal disapproval and heavy sighs. Zach, on the other hand, would get quiet. Never a good sign. The quieter her brother got, the angrier he was, and God help you if you were the one on the other end of that anger. After he gathered his thoughts, the silence would end and the lecture would begin. He’d tell her she had to be careful. That she couldn’t trust everything that came out of someone’s mouth—especially if that someone was male. He’d go into warrior mode, all overprotective and rigid.
Zach didn’t think she could take care of herself. And that was why Oakes was in her life in the first place. When Zach had joined the marines, he’d asked Oakes to chec
k in on her, to make sure she was okay, and Oakes, being the good guy he was, had gone above and beyond. Stepping into the role of big brother whenever Zach was deployed.
As if she actually needed—or wanted—two older brothers. She wasn’t a freaking masochist.
“I didn’t invite my... Michael here,” she told Oakes. “I just...mentioned that I was graduating and that I was valedictorian and I guess he thought he’d...show up to see my speech or something.”
No way could she admit the only reason her father had come, the only thing he’d wanted from her, was money.
He didn’t want her at all.
“You mentioned it to him,” Oakes said and she wondered if that was a lawyer thing, repeating everything a person said. Not that he was an attorney yet—he’d just graduated from the University of Texas at Austin’s law school a week ago—but he must have picked up a few things during his studies. “So you’ve spoken with him before? Met with him?”
“No. I mean, we haven’t met up or anything. Today was the first time I’ve seen him in years. I swear. But we have been communicating with each other by email for...a few months.” Just because she was being honest didn’t mean she had to be totally honest. “He said he wanted to talk to me. See how I was doing, find out what was going on in my life. He told me he’d quit drinking and I believed him.” Her humiliation was so complete, she couldn’t even look at Oakes’s reaction to her confession. “Pretty stupid, huh?”
“Hey, hey,” he said, his voice so much deeper than the guys her own age, the smooth timbre of it causing her stomach to tighten pleasantly. He took her chin between his finger and thumb, then gently raised her head until she met his eyes. “You are not stupid.”
Tears threatened but she blinked them back. She could let them fall later, during the ceremony, when everyone would assume she was getting weepy and sentimental about the end of her childhood. “I was dumb to believe him. To trust him. I thought... I thought he’d gotten sober for me. So he could be in my life.”
Oakes stepped closer. He smelled good. Some highly expensive cologne probably, but at least he didn’t bathe in it like high-school boys did. “Your father is missing out by not having you in his life, but you? You are not missing a damn thing by him not being in yours. You don’t need him.” His voice lowered, but his eyes never left hers. “You are strong and independent. Smart and funny. Creative and beautiful. You are too special to ever forget that or doubt it—or yourself—for a moment.”
Warmth suffused her. Oakes thought she was special. Beautiful. She’d had guys tell her she was pretty before, others had claimed she was hot or had commented on how her body looked in certain clothes, but no one had ever before called her beautiful.
Other than her mom and that definitely did not count.
She wanted to believe he meant it. But her mom’s lessons had been ingrained after all.
Trusting was harder than it looked.
“You don’t have to say that,” she mumbled, leaning back so he wasn’t touching her anymore. “I’m not a charity case.”
“No one thinks you are.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. We both know the only reason I’m even at this school is because of your family’s money.” Zach wouldn’t touch his trust fund for his own needs, but he had no problem spending his father’s money on her and their mother. He’d bought them a house, paid their expenses and would be footing the bill when Daphne attended Rice University this fall. “Just like we both know the only reason you’re here today is because Zach told you to come.”
Oakes smiled, looking much more like his usual good-humored self. “As much as Zach likes to believe otherwise, he’s not the boss of me. I don’t jump to do his bidding.”
Crossing her arms, she raised her eyebrows. “No?”
“Okay, maybe he did ask me to come,” Oakes said. “But only because he was upset he couldn’t be here himself.”
She was proud of her brother for serving their country, but there were times she wished he’d just stayed in Houston and gotten a regular job that didn’t require permission to attend his sister’s graduation.
But as disappointed as she’d been that Zach hadn’t been granted leave, hearing Oakes admit he was there because Zach had asked him to be was somehow worse.
She’d worry about why that was later.
“Yeah, well, you did your brotherly good deed,” she told him, bending down to pick up the note cards, which she just realized she’d dropped, and her mortarboard, which she placed back on her head. Then she said, “You don’t have to stay for the ceremony. I’ll be sure to tell Zach you attended.”
She turned to walk away but Oakes caught her wrist. Tugged her back. “He asked me to come,” Oakes repeated, “but I’m here because I want to be here. Though I would have preferred if you’d invited me yourself.”
She frowned. “You wanted me to invite you? Why?”
“Because we’re friends.”
Friends. She let the sound of it roll around in her brain a few times. She’d never thought of him as a friend. Yeah, they hung out a few times a year, usually with her mom as some sort of chaperone because an older guy and a teenage girl held too many creepy Dateline implications. Could it be that all this time, when he’d taken her bowling or out to dinner, when he’d asked about her school, her interests and friends, it wasn’t so he could report back to Zach, but because he was truly interested?
“Oh” was all she could manage, and even that was tough to get past the lump in her throat.
“Yeah. Oh.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. “And with everything that happened, I forgot the reason I came looking for you in the first place.” He pulled out a long, narrow box tied with red and black ribbons—her school colors. “Here.” She took the box, stared at it for so long he laughed and nudged her hand. “Open it.”
She pulled off the ribbon and lifted the lid to reveal a gold elephant charm on a delicate chain.
“I know you like elephants,” he said, taking the necklace from the box, “and I read once that they’re a symbol of good luck so I thought you could wear it during your speech.” He reached around her, fastening the necklace behind her neck before gently lifting her hair from the chain.
She looked up at him, unsure of how they’d gotten so close, but not able to move back so much as an inch. He’d come to her rescue, wanted to be at her graduation and had told her she was beautiful. Plus, he’d remembered she liked elephants and he’d bought her a present. And he looked so unsure, as if he was worried she didn’t like it.
Daphne threw her arms around him and hugged him hard.
“Ouch,” he said with a chuckle when the pointy corner of her mortarboard jabbed his cheek.
“Sorry,” she said against his shoulder because it felt way too good being held against his solid body to even lift her head. Especially since he was hugging her back.
But after a few moments she knew she had to let go or things would be all sorts of awkward between them. She leaned back, meaning to smile at him, to thank him for, well...everything, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. He was close...like, really, really close. His hands were on her waist, her arms still wrapped around his neck, and their bodies pressed together.
Her smile slipped away. Their gazes locked. Held. For one heartbeat. Then two. His fingers tightened and she had to stop herself from not delving her own fingertips into the hair at the nape of his neck. She was afraid to move, afraid to do anything that would break this fragile moment. And that’s exactly what it was. A moment. A very real, very intense one between her and Oakes Bartasavich—a man eight years older than her, who was already out of high school, college and law school. A true grown-up with a job and his own apartment and his life all mapped out.
It was the best moment of her entire life.
Until he blinked and ste
pped back, his hands falling from her waist. He grinned but it looked strained, especially with his jaw being so tight. Sweat dotted his upper lip. She wanted to say something flirtatious, something adult-sounding, but what came out was “You won’t tell Zach, will you?”
He flinched, as if the sound of her brother’s name—of their brother’s name—was like a slap to the face. And she realized she’d just put Zach between them, between even the possibility of them.
Yes, her list of mistakes just kept on growing.
“About my dad, I mean,” she clarified, in case he thought she meant about their embrace—and that was how she’d think of it from this day forward. Not a simple hug between friendly acquaintances, but an embrace between a man and a woman. An almost woman, anyway. “You know, about him coming here and me, uh, emailing him. Which I won’t do anymore,” she added quickly.
Oakes grabbed the back of his neck and she had the feeling she was about to have a firsthand experience of what a lecture from him would be like: polite, no doubt. Calmly stated and oh, so very reasonable.
And really, her day had been crappy enough, thanks all the same. No need to add on to the pile.
“Look,” she said, stepping toward him, only to have him take a quick step back. And wasn’t that interesting? Not to mention quite encouraging. “I promise not to have anything else to do with my father, and I hope you can promise to keep what happened here today our little secret.”
His gaze flew to hers. “What happened here?”
“With Michael?” Oakes stared at her blankly. “Him coming here. You almost killing him. Any of this ringing a bell?”
He laughed. Not really a ha-ha-I’m-so-amused chuckle. More like a relieved, oh-thank-God-that’s-what-you-meant laugh. “Right. Yeah. I promise.”
He held out his hand—always the lawyer—and she shook it, let her palm linger against his for a moment longer than necessary, just to test this new, amazing reaction to him. She felt a definite spark from the contact.
Yep. Still there and very much real.
The headmaster appeared out of the double glass doors down the walkway and called Daphne’s name. She’d have to think about that spark and her reaction later. For now, she had a speech to deliver and a diploma to get.