Miami Attraction

by Elaine Overton

  “Rick Morgan.” She said the name as if expecting it to conjure a memory, maybe a disgruntled club patron, but as far as she knew Vega was the only one with a personal vendetta against her. Otherwise, there had just been too many men coming and going at Godiva, far too many to remember all their names and faces.

  “Mikayla, you don’t need to worry about Rick Morgan. He won’t be bothering you again—I promise.” He gently pressed his body against the door. “Let me in, Mikayla. I need to see you.”

  She peeked out the door once again, and he could see the tears in her eyes. He wanted desperately to take her into his arms, but she refused to allow him any closer.

  “You were never supposed to know about any of this,” she said, her voice cracking on the last word. “I tried so hard to rebuild my life. But you can’t escape the past no matter how hard you try.” The door slit shut again. “Goodbye, Dusty—and…thank you.” Her muffled voice came through the door.

  “Mikayla!” He banged on the door. “Don’t do this! Mikayla! Open this damn door, now! I’m not leaving!” He banged on the door again, but to no response. He banged again and again, and continued to bang until her next-door neighbor came out on the porch to see what was going on.

  Knowing the nosy neighbor had probably already called the police, Dusty decided to leave. The last thing he wanted was to cause Mikayla any more trouble than she already had.

  He moved down the stairs and back to his car. He sat in his car for several more minutes, hoping, praying she would come back to the door and let him in, but she never did.

  As he drove back to his ranch, all he could think about was the hurt he’d seen on her face. He’d tried to make her understand he didn’t give a damn about whatever came before him, but there was something he was missing. He could see it in her eyes.

  Despite what he’d learned there was obviously much more he did not know. Some part of him wanted to try to beat more information out of Rick, but that would’ve been pointless. The man had told him all he knew; he’d been too frightened to lie.

  So what now? How was he supposed to make the woman he loved let go of past hurts and look toward the future? How did you convince a person they didn’t have to stay the person they were born?

  If that were the case, he would’ve never left the carnival. He would’ve spent his life just as his father and grandfather had done.

  An hour later he drove through the gateway of the ranch leading up to the main house, and the emptiness he felt in his chest became heavier with every turn of the wheels. He’d lived here for more than five years, but the past few months with Mikayla’s presence had changed everything.

  The place would never feel the same again.

  He pulled to a stop in the horseshoe drive and saw his father leaning against one of the porch banisters with his hands deep in his blue jean pockets.

  As Dusty turned off the car and climbed out, his father came down the stairs to meet him. “Well?” Kyle asked.

  “She wouldn’t even let me in.”

  Dusty was surprised by the hurt that crossed his father’s face. “I’m sorry, son. She’s a good woman.”

  Dusty raised an eyebrow at the finality of the statement. “This isn’t over.” He started toward the house. “I’ll get her back, I just have to figure out how.”

  Kyle stood watching as Dusty climbed the stairs. “Son…”

  Something about the tone caused Dusty to stop in his tracks. He turned to see his father watching him with a solemn expression.

  “I’ve been thinking about what we were talking about earlier. And I just wanted to say, I’m sorry. I never meant to make your life hard. Hell, truth be told it never occurred to me that you were unhappy. I mean, I was just raising you the way I’d been raised.”

  “I know, Pop.”

  “Our people have been carnies for so long, I just never imagined you wanted anything different.”

  “I know.”

  “But I want you to know I am proud of you.” He gestured to the open fields around them. “Of what you’ve built here, of what you’ve made of your life.”

  Dusty could see the sincerity of his father’s words reflected in his eyes and he swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure how much more emotional turmoil his heart could take in one day.

  “Thanks.” The two men stood watching each other for a moment, and then not knowing what else to say Dusty turned and went into the house.

  Porthos was lying under the foyer table and he barely lifted his head as Dusty entered. Dusty walked into the living room where Aramis was curled on the sofa. He gave only the smallest gesture of acknowledgment to Dusty’s return. On the other side of the room, Athos had somehow wedged himself between a chair leg and the wall and his brown eyes watched Dusty, but he made no move to greet him.

  Dusty realized he wasn’t the only unhappy male in his home tonight. His dogs were missing their new queen, as much as he was missing his.

  He went upstairs and slipped off his pants and shirt and climbed into bed. For the next few hours he lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. He had no idea how he could get Mikayla to talk to him, if he couldn’t even get her to open the door to him.

  She was hurting so bad, and he had no idea how to help her. He wanted to hold her, he wanted to put her head against his chest and just hold her. He wished he could somehow absorb her pain, take it into himself and relieve her.

  Maybe it was good she had not let him in, because he didn’t have the words to tell her what he was feeling. But he had to find a way. He had to before it was too late.

  He’d worked so hard to break the hard shell around her heart and he’d done it. He knew she cared for him as much as he cared for her. And, more importantly, she’d begun to trust him. Trust was an emotion that did not come easy to Mikayla. But she had begun to believe he would not hurt her. And with one stupid, careless, greedy act Rick had undone all that. She was now back to being the frightened woman he’d met six months ago. He could hurt Rick for that alone.

  He sat up in the bed and turned on the lamp on his nightstand. He pulled out a slip of paper he’d tucked away just in case he needed it again and dialed the number.

  He had a plan. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all he had. It was his one shot, and if he didn’t handle it right, it would be his last shot. Dusty knew time was not on his side. For every minute Mikayla was alone she replaced a brick in her wall of security. He had to do something now or else she would have the wall up between them again. And this time it would be indestructible. Mikayla was not the kind of woman to make the same mistake twice. Dusty knew it was now or never.

  A woman answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Kandi, it’s Dusty. This time I need your help.”

  Two days after receiving the blackmail letter, as the sun rose in the sky outside her window, Mikayla turned from where she’d been watching the sunrise and stretched. She glanced at the clock and saw it was almost seven in the morning. She hadn’t slept all night. In fact, she hadn’t slept in two nights. Not since Rick had hit her with his blackmail offer.

  She kept replaying the night before in her head. The look of compassion in Dusty’s eyes had been the answer to a prayer. It was just the look of understanding she’d hoped to find in his eyes if he ever found out. No judgment, just compassion. But nothing else about the situation was the same.

  The cacophony of emotions racing through her brain was not expected. Her past was her past. She’d lived it—and thought she’d made peace with it. But when she’d opened that envelope and seen those photos it had been like a punch to the gut. She’d remembered taking them, of course. But still, looking at the woman in those photos had been like looking at someone else. Someone she didn’t even know. And the shame she’d felt. She hadn’t felt dirty when she posed for the pictures, so why now? After all these years?

  It hadn’t taken her long to understand what was generating such intense fear. It was the uncertainty of what Dusty would think.

&nb
sp; The terror had taken hold of her heart and held it in a vise grip until the moment she opened the door and looked into Dusty’s eyes. Then the feeling changed, but not to relief, which was what she should’ve felt. After all, Dusty said her past didn’t matter, and she believed him. But the feeling was more like trying to balance on the edge of a cliff. Feeling as if any minute she would fall.

  Even if she’d let Dusty in, she knew the feeling would not have gone away. It would always be. If she allowed her relationship with Dusty to continue she would spend her life waiting to fall. That would be unbearable.

  It was better to let it end now. In a way, Rick had done her a favor. If he hadn’t threatened her with those photos, she would’ve never experienced real fear.

  When she’d faced down her knife-welding attacker in the dark alley all those years ago, she thought she’d known fear. But that was nothing more than the result of rushing adrenaline and anxiety. The thought of losing the respect of the man she loved, that was fear.

  An hour later, she was just stepping out of the shower when her phone rang. She hurried into her bedroom to answer it. “Hello?”

  “Oh, good.” Kandi sighed. “You’re awake. I need to see you, it’s important.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just meet me downtown at our coffee shop in half an hour.”

  “Okay, but what is this about?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

  Mikayla’s mind was distracted from her own troubles as she tried to imagine what Kandi would need to discuss so urgently. She dressed in peach-colored safari shorts and a matching peasant top. She twisted her hair up and pinned it before slipping on some tan sandals.

  She didn’t even bother with any makeup or jewelry. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but if Kandi needed her she didn’t want to be late. She hurried out of her house, climbed into her sports car and pointed it toward downtown.

  She pulled up in front of the coffee shop and was surprised by how empty it was. As she came closer and closer to the door, she had a feeling something wasn’t right, and with every step the feeling grew stronger.

  Inside, she saw Kandi sitting at a table alone. She opened the door and as soon as she did Kandi stood and came toward her.

  “Hey, what do you need to talk—”

  Before she could finish Kandi took her in a bear hug and whispered in her ear. “One day I hope you will forgive my recent betrayals, but I love you too much to let you spend your life regretting things you should’ve done differently.”

  Mikayla leaned back to look at her friend. “What are you talking about?”

  Just then, the what appeared over Kandi’s shoulder as Dusty stepped out from the short hall leading to the restrooms.

  She shot Kandi a sharp glare.

  Kandi whispered the word, “Sorry,” and then hurried out the door.

  Mikayla was frozen to the spot. There were a few other people in the shop. A young man was sipping a latté while working on his laptop. Another older man was reading a paper and drinking what appeared to be plain black coffee. And a couple close to the window was drinking coffee, while the toddler seated in the high chair between them sipped milk and toyed with a donut. The pair seemed in deep discussion and Mikayla knew no one would notice anything out of sorts if she turned and left.

  Dusty stood where he was, waiting for her to decide. He looked so young and vibrant in his casual clothes, no one would guess he was a renowned veterinarian.

  He wore loose-fitting jeans and a black T-shirt. The gold cross he wore sparkled against the black material. His short cropped hair had been recently cut, and from her point of view he looked good enough to eat.

  It was so good to see him, she thought. She’d missed him like crazy over the past two days and had mistakenly thought she’d started the healing process. Apparently not. Because seeing him at that moment hurt as much as it had two days ago.

  She knew she should turn around and leave, but the truth was she wanted to be with him, even if for a moment.

  Once he realized she was not going to bolt, Dusty started moving in her direction. He stopped at the table where Kandi had been sitting and tossed a manila folder on the table.

  Taking a deep breath she approached the table and the pair stood watching each other for several moments before Dusty said, “Don’t blame Kandi, I asked her to do this.”

  “I’ll take care of Kandi later.”

  “I needed to see you, and I didn’t know how else to do it since you won’t even take my calls.”

  “Well, I’m here now.”

  He gestured to the chair across from his as he sat down. He pushed the file across the table to her. “Here.”

  She frowned down at the folder, but did not take it. “What’s that?”

  He nodded toward the folder. “The brick wall standing between us.”

  She sat down and opened the file.

  Chapter 20

  In it were news clippings regarding her attack and the humiliating trial that followed and ended in a hung jury. Looking at the photographs of herself entering the courthouse, Mikayla felt as if she were looking at pictures of a stranger. So much had happened since then, so much had changed.

  “Where did you find this?”

  “A little research was all it took.”

  She looked up at him. “Why?”

  “You needed to see it.”

  She closed the folder. “I don’t need to see it. I lived it, remember?”

  “Yes, and you keep telling yourself it doesn’t matter when in fact, it matters a great deal.”

  Her eyes narrowed on his face. “Don’t try to shrink me, Dusty. You’re not qualified for the job.”

  “I beg to differ.” He pulled the file back to himself and opened it. “I think I know you better than you know yourself.”

  She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “This should be interesting. Please, do go on.”

  “I think you blame Tangie for what happened to you.”

  “You’re confused.” She frowned. “I am Tangie.”

  “Yes, you are.” He nodded.

  She tilted her head to the side. “You speak as if she’s someone else.”

  “Because in your mind she is.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about why you hide your past as if it’s some kind of dirty little secret, when in fact it’s the foundation of all you are. I saw you at that seminar, Mikayla. Tangie is the reason those women can relate to you. Whether you realize it or not, Tangie is the woman who takes the stage. Not Mikayla. Tangie. They know her—hell, they are her.”

  He leaned forward across the table. “Mikayla, you give so much of yourself, and yet, you hoard the best parts.”

  “Enough of this.” She stood and turned to leave.

  “See what I mean?”

  His words stopped her in her tracks.

  “Whenever we get too close to uncovering those old scars, you run and hide.”

  Reluctantly, she sat back down. “Why should I uncover my old scars, Dusty? I’ve spent years…years learning to live with my past, learning to accept my mistakes and move on. And now here you come, wanting to just dig it all up, like it’s some kind of social experiment.”

  “But, sweetheart, that’s just it. You haven’t learned to live with your past. You’ve learned to hide it, you’ve buried it deep. And yes, you’re right, I want to dig it up, expose it to the world and then you can release it forever.”

  She stared at the man she loved, feeling a sharp pain in her chest. What was he doing to her? All the conflicting emotions going through her head felt as if she would explode from the pressure. She didn’t want to talk about this, she didn’t was to rehash the past, and yet she knew she had to, or else the Ricks of the world would continue to have power over her. She had to if she hoped to have any kind of life with Dusty. And she did so want a life with Dusty.

  She swallowed hard and pushed forward. “What ar
e you trying to say, Dusty?”

  “I think you should tell your story. I think you should identify yourself as the main character.”

  “What good would that do?”

  “First of all, you wouldn’t have to hide anymore.”

  Mikayla thought about that single statement. She’d been shielded for so long, she didn’t even remember a time when she was not hiding some part of herself. She could only imagine the kind of relief it would bring, and the possible disdain and rejection.

  “You’re asking me to sabotage my career.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think it would. In fact, I think it would help.”

  “So I should risk undoing everything I’ve worked so hard for on the basis of an I don’t think so.”

  He smiled. It was a small, sad smile. He looked at her with compassionate eyes. “That’s what trust is, sweetheart. Leaping without a net.”

  She huffed. “That’s also called suicide.”

  “So what do you say?”

  “If I say no, where does that leave us?”

  “Wherever you want us to be. I’m here to stay, as long as you want me. I’m here.” He reached across the table and took both her hands in his. “I love you, Mikayla, and that love is without condition. Know it.”

  “I do.” She nodded, and the tears came without warning. Before she realized he’d moved Dusty came around the table and pulled her into his arms. The others in the restaurant gave the embracing couple a brief glance, before returning to their own pursuits.

  Meanwhile, in a portion of the Warren ranch that went unused, a small makeshift tent had been set up in the underbrush. Rick sat inside, plotting his revenge. He couldn’t leave Miami until things calmed down with Leo. He was already a day late for the new deadline, and he had no intention of being carried out of Leo’s office in a plastic bag.

  After Dusty left, Rick had gone to Kyle and pleaded for mercy, but Kyle had shown him none. Kyle informed him that after a lifetime of messing up with his son, he wasn’t about to risk ruining their relationship forever for a gambling debt that wasn’t even his. It seemed their lifelong friendship had met the end of the road.