Write On Press Presents: The Ultimate Collection of Original Short Fiction, Volume II

by Write On Press

  ~*~

  She was trembling as she walked back into the ballroom. Jesse gave serious consideration to moving to another table to finish out the evening, but rejected the thought. She had never run from her problems in the past. She would wait a few moments and then she would run. Fast. Because, seriously? Running had its advantages at times. This would be one of those times.

  She forced herself to smile lightly at Claire as she rejoined the table. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the front of the room where it looked like Brian and Nick were arriving and were preparing to say a few words.

  “You made it back just in time to catch the speeches.” Claire was pointing proudly at her brother, but she kept glancing at Thorndike’s table with that troubled look on her face.

  She seemed to be struggling with something, and then finally blurted out, “I’m worried. Nick doesn’t seem worried, but I can’t help it.”

  “Worried?” Jesse repeated.

  “Okay, I’m not sure if I should say something, but since you were once married to him, you might be able to help if things get bad.”

  “Wayne? What are you talking about?” Jesse was terribly confused.

  “Nick’s scar, Wayne’s knee.”

  “Nick’s scar? Wayne’s knee?” Jesse felt like a parrot as she continued to try and make sense of the words coming out of Claire’s mouth.

  Claire looked at Jesse curiously. “Wayne never told you?”

  At Jesse’s blank expression, Claire took a deep breath and explained in a low voice. “In high school, Nick and Wayne got in a fight and Wayne pulled a knife on Nick and slashed his face. That’s the scar he has on his face.”

  Jesse could see the uncertainty on her face as she dropped her bomb. “Nick is the one that blew Wayne’s knee out so he couldn’t play football ever again.”

  Jesse felt herself go cold. Wayne scarred Nick’s face? For a moment her world tilted. The man she had been married to was responsible for slashing Nick’s face?

  “But Wayne told me he tore his knee in a practice scrimmage,” she said through numb lips.

  She barely heard Claire’s response. It was something about her being there and that she had witnessed it. All that was going through her mind was, no wonder Nick hates me.

  But once silence descended and Jesse realized that Claire was looking at her questioningly, Jesse forced herself to process the last thing Claire had said.

  “You said you saw Wayne attack Nick?”

  “Actually Nick attacked Wayne.”

  Jesse’s head was spinning. “Okay, I’m terribly confused.”

  Claire took a deep breath, and after glancing around to make sure Drew was out of hearing distance, she spoke quickly in a low voice.

  “My, this is awkward.” She traced the pattern in the tablecloth while she pondered how to proceed, then she picked up her glass and cleared her throat and began talking.

  “He’s your ex-husband, so I really, really don’t want to upset you because it was so very long ago and he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing, I’m sure. He got carried away...and I was so young and impressed with him. He was the quarterback and a senior...but it was pretty stupid of me...I went and necked with him and he thought I wanted more—”

  Claire wouldn’t look in Jesse’s eyes. She just looked at the glass she was twirling in her hands and blushed furiously before continuing. “Anyhow, Nick came to pick me up and when he finally found me, he realized that Wayne wasn’t listening to my “no” so he tackled him and it got very ugly.”

  Finally Claire looked into Jesse’s eyes and repeated, “It was a long time ago and Wayne was really drunk.”

  “Claire.” Jesse’s voice was low and furious and Claire seemed taken aback. “Please tell me you are not making excuses for Wayne and the fact that he almost raped you. I don’t care how drunk someone gets, there’s no excuse.”

  Claire looked relieved. “You’re not upset?”

  “Yeah, well upset is too mild of a word. Wayne was never good at telling himself no, but not listening to a woman’s no brings it up to a whole new level.” The bitterness in her words was palatable. The bastard. The selfish, spoiled, silver-spoon in mouth bastard.

  “I’m only bringing this up now because neither one of them have been in the same room since then, and I’m pretty sure Wayne holds some bitterness because of the whole ruined football career thing.”

  “Never mind the ruined face thing.”

  “Ruined face?”

  Jesse froze as she watched Nick pulling out a chair for Noel. She hadn’t even seen them approaching the table.

  Slowly she raised her eyes to his and saw the cold look in his eyes, and beneath it she could see the hurt.

  He actually believed that she thought his face was ruined. As in slashed-by-her-despicable-ex-husband-ruined. Her despicable ex-husband that tried to rape his sister.

  Of course he believed that she would think that. In his mind she was the princess type that married a man like Wayne. Never mind that she hadn’t known. That didn’t change a single thing. Or take away the scar.

  The irony was that his face was beautiful and the scar did nothing to detract from that. That face and that scar had haunted her dreams for years. Looking at him now, she felt an aching tenderness and an urge to run her fingers over the red line of the scar. She knew that the gesture would not be welcome. Ever. Not from her.

  She looked at Noel’s hand resting possessively on Nick’s arm and a wave of red-hot jealousy flashed through her. She wanted to rip the blonde woman’s hair out by the roots. Shocked, she sat there motionless as the primitive anger washed over her. She realized that not only was Nick waiting for a response, but that the entire table was now staring at her.

  “I’m sorry...I can’t do this,” she murmured. She rose to her feet and ignoring Nick’s intent eyes on her face, and Claire’s concerned gaze, she fled.

  When she reached the doors of the banquet room she glanced back briefly and saw Nick’s and Claire’s heads together, talking. Nick’s eyes were still locked on her as she made her getaway. She quickened her pace, desperate to get out of there before she had to endure a face-to-face with Nick.

  As she slid behind the wheel of her car, she clung to the steering wheel as if it were a life preserver. God knows she needed one at this moment. Because one thing had become blindingly clear to her at that table looking into Nick’s face.

  She was in love with him.

  She had always been in love with him. And any chance of a happy-ever-after ending with him had evaporated the day she had married Wayne Holbrook.

  She leaned her forehead on the steering wheel, suddenly utterly weary and worn out. In love? With Nick Armstrong? The words flowed through her mind—an indisputable truth that, try as she might, she couldn’t banish. Because she knew it was real.

  From the moment he had taken her into his arms all those years ago she had been his, heart and soul. It had just taken her mind too long to catch up. The boy that had understood her bucket list, understood who she was inside was a perfect match for her. Not the programmed her. The real her.

  It was too late. Oh, she knew he desired her. He would have sex with her in a flash. Perhaps she would even have considered it...yesterday. She remembered his words...I don’t hate you...you’re not married...and she allowed herself a brief flash of hope. Then she buried that hope ruthlessly, because she knew his feelings were desire not love. She knew herself well enough to know that having sex with Nick Armstrong without a relationship would destroy her.

  God. She could imagine the heat. They would go up in flames. Then she would be left with the ashes as he made his excuses and walked out of her life.

  The knowledge of her love for him sat between them now. She wouldn’t, she couldn’t be less than nothing to him; one in a long list that shared his bed. She had to protect herself.

  Remembering the cold look in his eyes made her throat tighten. Misery lanced through her. He hated her because she was the type
of woman that married a man like Wayne Holbrook. And she didn’t blame him a bit.

  The scar on his face stood between them in a way that all the desire in the world couldn’t overcome. Then she realized what she was going to have to do. She was going to have to quit the clinic.