He straddled the bike, pressed start, and the small cycle rumbled to life. He slowly let out the clutch and headed into Red Vale. Before he knew it, he found himself parked in his aunt's driveway. He climbed from the bike and trudged up the sidewalk toward the front porch. He dug inside his wallet for the spare key he kept there.
The light was on in the parlor, so Shane stuck his head in to say hello to his aunt. He found her asleep. Chili Dog stirred beneath the blankets and crawled out to greet him. Shane gently nudged Neona awake.
She blinked up at him and rubbed her eyes. "I must've fallen asleep." She yawned.
"Really? I thought you always slept with your chin on your chest," he teased.
"Aren't you the comedian tonight," she said. She reached for the book she'd been reading and pulled it back into her lap. "What are you doing here?"
As he shrugged out of his coat, he told her, "It seemed like a great night for a motorcycle ride."
"For an Eskimo, maybe," she scoffed. She watched him through worried eyes. "You okay?"
Shane gave her a weary smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just figured since I'm going up to Hannibal with Star in the morning, I'd spend the night here. You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course I don't mind. You're always welcome to stay, you know that, Shane," she said. "You can sleep upstairs in my room. Right after you take Chili Dog out to potty."
Shane kissed Neona's cheek. "I can do that. See you tomorrow," he told her. He patted his leg and called to the dog, "Come on, Chili Dog, let's go outside." The small dog jumped off the bed, stretched, and darted toward the front door.
Shane had stayed with Neona after the accident while his injuries healed. His leg had slowly gotten better, and most days the limp was barely noticeable. The memory demons that continued to invade his brain from time to time hadn't gone away completely, though they had become less frequent as the months passed. Getting off the chemicals had helped a lot with the nightmares.
Shane knew the room at the end of the hall was the one reserved for long term guests, and he assumed that's where Star was sleeping. He went inside Neona's room at the top of the stairs and didn't bother to turn on the light. The dim glow from the streetlight outside the windows filtered through the curtains, and once his eyes adjusted to the darkened room, he sat down on the bed and tugged off his boots.
Stripped of his clothes, he climbed between the cold sheets and breathed in their soothing lavender scent.
The odor of raw gas was strong, sucking the air from his lungs. He felt woozy, and something was wrong with his leg. He knew he had to get away from the fumes, but every time he tried to move, excruciating pain shot through the entire right side of his body.
With blurry vision, he tried to find something tangible to focus on. He twisted his head toward the empty passenger seat. Hadn't Lila been with him? Where was she? "Lila?" he groaned. He sputtered and gagged: the pain from his leg, along with the gasoline fumes were making him nauseated.
Red and blue lights rotated, reflecting on the wet pavement. The sound of crunching metal had been deafening. Fragments of glass were scattered everywhere. Where the hell was Lila?
"Shane? Can you hear me?" the disembodied voice asked him. "We're going to get you out, son, hang in there."
He blacked out, and when he came to, he was being extricated from the twisted wreckage. He screamed in agony, begging for someone to do something to make the unbearable pain stop. When he caught sight of his shredded, blood soaked jeans and the mangled mess that was his right leg, he wanted to die.
He was nearly incoherent, but not so out of it that he missed the sheet-covered body in the middle of the highway. "Lila..." he cried out. No, God no. There has to be some mistake. "LILA!"
Star bolted upright, her heart was racing ninety miles an hour. She heard the strangled cries coming from down the hall. For a few seconds, she held her breath while she listened. "LILA!" she heard. It sounded like Shane's voice. She flung the covers off her and ran down the hall toward his wails. Without hesitation, she pushed open the bedroom door and ran to him.
He was clearly in the midst of one hell of a vivid nightmare. She crawled beside him on the bed and wrapped her arms around him. The sheets were drenched with sweat, and his entire body trembled as she held him.
"Shh, it's okay, Shane. You're having a bad dream," she cajoled, as she rocked him back and forth. He silently slid his arms around her waist and clung to her. He buried his face in the front of her nightgown and sobbed.
Neither of them spoke. He cried until his ragged breathing eased into the normal, smooth rhythm of slumber. When she was certain he had drifted back to sleep, she gently unwrapped his arms from around her body and wandered back down the hall to her own bed.
Chapter Nineteen
Star slept fitfully for the rest of the night. Something about seeing a grown man weeping like a baby had been disconcerting for her. She worried about how she was going to face him. Would it be awkward? Would he be embarrassed? Or more importantly, would she?
Just before sunrise, she abandoned the idea of getting any more sleep, and climbed from the bed. She gathered her clothes for a long, hot shower. She hoped the hot water would dislodge the myriad of inappropriate thoughts. Fantasies about what she wanted to do to -- and with -- Shane had started to march through her sleep-deprived brain, as well as her sex-starved libido.
Star knew Shane was too young for anything more than a casual fling. He'd barely begun to live his life, and in her thirty years, she'd already lived enough for both of them. There was an undeniable attraction, she couldn't dispute that. Holding him, comforting him, as she had just a few short hours ago left her craving more of his touch.
She gritted her teeth and turned up the water temperature as she scrubbed her body. Why are the men I'm attracted to always wrong for me? Maybe I need to let myself be interested in a smart, science guy with a big brain for a change. An age appropriate one, preferably.
After her shower, she wiped the fog from the mirror and studied her tired face. She smoothed the skin around her eyes, wondering how much a facelift would set her back. A close-up inspection revealed more than a couple new gray hairs had sprouted, seemingly overnight, as well.
"Are you going to be much longer?" Shane's muffled voice asked from the other side of the bathroom door, causing her to jump.
"Just a few more minutes, sorry," she answered. She hurriedly dried off and scrambled into her clothes. When she opened the door, he sat on the floor facing her, his back against the wall. He gave her a lopsided, mischievous grin, and warmth pooled inside of her. She smiled back and said, "Sorry, I guess I kind of lost track of time."
"No worries. As long as there's some hot water left, I don't mind." He held his hand out to her. "Help me up, Blue."
She tugged him to his feet, and when he squeezed her hand affectionately she tingled all over. Holy hell, is it wrong that I want to do him right here in the hallway? Her mouth became dry, and she licked her lips. His eyes followed the flick of her tongue. "All yours," she said hoarsely and quickly went back to her room.
She couldn't be sure, it may have been her imagination, but she could have sworn she heard him say, "I wish," before he disappeared into the bathroom.
The hot shower combined with the hallway encounter had left Star overheated. She fanned herself and sat on the corner of her bed. If he had remembered having the nightmare, or her rocking him back to sleep afterwards, it wasn't evident in the playful smile he'd given her. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Was she disappointed that he hadn't remembered or relieved?
Star finished getting ready and went downstairs to make a pot of coffee, but was surprised to find Michael standing in the kitchen already brewing a pot. He turned toward her when she walked in and greeted her with a nod. She smiled politely and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.
Michael leaned against the counter, appraising her through watchful eyes. His scrutiny put her on edge, and she wondered what was going through his head. Af
ter he poured a cup, he went back to his position by the counter and stared at her. "It's none of my business what you've done in the past, as long as it wasn't illegal or you're not running from the law," he spoke, finally breaking the tense silence between them. "However, since you're staying here, in Neona's house, and you appeared out of nowhere, I took the liberty of running a background check on you."
"Of course you did," Star said. She felt her heart pounding the blood through her veins. "I'm not running. Not from the law, anyway."
"I understand that. I also know that when you lived in West Memphis, the local police department had been dispatched to your residence on several occasions for domestic disturbances. Does that sound about right?"
Star wrapped her hands around the coffee cup and stared into the dark liquid. "Yes."
"I also understand this man you lived with, Derek Baldwin, is a pretty unsavory character with a whole list of priors -- attempted rape, aggravated assault, drug possession, you name it -- and at one time or another he's been arrested for, or suspected of, something illegal," Michael rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the irritation creeping up his spine. "Frankly, I'm amazed. Of a couple of things, actually. One, is that he's not locked up somewhere, and two, that he let you leave without a fight."
Star took a deep breath and puffed out her cheeks, exhaling slowly. "He didn't let me do anything."
Michael's eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline. "How's that?"
"I slipped him a little something to…um…help him sleep and then I left," she admitted.
"I see." Michael sighed. "Any chance he'll come looking for you?"
"Probably. But there'd be no reason for him to look for me in Red Vale. Anyone who knows me believes I'm in Iowa right now."
Michael opened his mouth to say more, but he stopped himself when Shane walked into the room.
Star felt the color drain from her face. She hoped he hadn't overheard her and Michael's conversation. She wasn't ready for him to know what a lowlife loser she'd been living with or anything else about her less than pristine past.
"Morning, Michael," Shane's eyes darted between the two, "is this an official visit?"
"Nope, just checking in on Neona this morning," Michael told him as he pushed away from the counter, refilled his cup, and made his way out of the room.
Shane watched him leave before turning back to Star. "Ya know what? I like that guy, but when he goes all official, he annoys the shit out of me," he said. "You okay?"
Star forced a smile and nodded. "I'm fine. How are you doing this morning?"
His brow furrowed and he cocked his head. "Me? I'm fine. Some reason I shouldn't be?"
She decided not to bring up the whole nightmare scene and shrugged. "No, no reason."
Shane grinned and rubbed his hands together excitedly. "So, are you looking forward to spending the day with me?" he asked, waving his hand down the front of his body. "Because have you seen me? I just hope you can handle all this hotness."
Star spit the mouthful of coffee back into her cup and laughed. "So modest, too."
How was it even possible for him to put her at ease while at the same time twisting her insides into pretzel-like knots? She didn't know, but she liked it…she liked him.
Chapter Twenty
The drive to Hannibal started out with an awkward silence, until Shane broke the ice. "About last night," he started.
Star's fingers tightened around the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. Here it comes, she thought. "What about last night?"
"There's nothing going on between Kelsey and me," he blurted.
She hadn't expected that and glanced sideways at him. "Kelsey?" she asked.
"The girl who was talking to me at the store last night when you ran out of the place like a scalded cat," he said.
"I did not run out!" she huffed, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Whatever," he paused, "Kelsey and I had a thing once. But she wasn't as much fun after I stopped drinking. I got clean. She didn't. Now, she just annoys the fuck out of me. I've told her I'm not interested, but, I guess she knew a good thing when she had it."
Star laughed. "You are so conceited, you know that, right?"
Shane shrugged his shoulders. "Nah, I'm not really. I just like messing with you. I figure if I tell you how great I am, you'll agree with me, eventually."
"Keep telling yourself that," she said. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and decided if he wanted to talk about the nightmare, he'd have to be the one to bring the subject up. She made up her mind not to mention anything. It was probably an isolated incident, and he'll be back in his own apartment tonight. No harm, no foul.
"I've got an idea," he said after several moments of silence.
She peeked sideways at him and swore his blue eyes had a devilish glint to them. "I can hardly wait to hear this," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Let's play a game," he offered simply.
"A game? What kind of game?" she asked.
"Let's play twenty-one questions."
"Seriously? You want to play twenty-one questions with me? What if I don't want to answer your questions? Can we do it like truth or dare, so I can choose dare instead of answering something I don't want to answer?"
"That might be even more fun," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Seriously, if I ask something you'd rather not answer, just say 'skip,' and I'll save that one for another time. Same goes for me."
She tucked an unruly chunk of hair behind her ear and thought about the myriad of ways this little game could go places she didn't want to go, yet admittedly, the idea had her intrigued. She did want to know more about him. "I guess we can do that. Though I have to warn you, I doubt there are twenty-one interesting things about me to tell."
"Let me be the judge of that." He smiled and pointed to the road ahead. "You'll want to take a left up there at the stoplight."
About a bazillion questions invaded her thoughts. The things she wanted to know about him momentarily overrode her fear of the questions he might ask her. She pulled Neona's Jeep into the Super Wal-Mart and parked.
Once inside the store, he chuckled. "Be forewarned. I like to do and say embarrassing things whenever I shop at Wal-Mart. You may never want to go shopping with me again."
"Duly noted," she said. She tugged out a cart and pushed it toward the grocery section, snickering to herself. "I should probably tell you, I've been thrown out of three Wal-Marts for that very reason."
They walked side-by-side, tossing items from Neona's list into their shopping cart. "So, about our game of twenty-one questions," Shane said as he studied the packages of pecans. "Personal stuff or random-ass boring shit?"
She tilted her head sideways, contemplating his question. "Define 'random-ass boring shit'."
"You know, like, what's your favorite color?" He threw a large bag of pecan halves into the cart. "Booo-rrring."
"Purple," she said matter-of-factly. "That leaves you twenty more."
"Oh, hell no. That does not count as one of your questions!" Shane protested.
She blew out a noisy breath. "Fine. I don't care what you ask me. If I don't want to answer, I'll just say 'skip.' Or, make something up."
"Not fair. One of the stipulations of the game is that you have to be completely honest with your answers. Otherwise, what's the point?" he reasoned.
"Have it your way," she mumbled.
"Glad you're finally seeing things my way," he told her.
As they passed a woman pushing a little boy in her cart, Shane got an evil smirk on his face and said, "That reminds me. Did we need to get some more cucumbers? Because you know, I'm not about to eat the ones we have. Not after what you were using them for."
Not to be outdone, Star said, "That's not what you said last night when you were begging me not to stop."
A grin slid across his face, and he nodded appreciatively at her answer. "Touché," he whispered. He tried, and failed, several more times to catch her off guard
and embarrass her while they shopped.
After they had put the groceries into the back of the Jeep and started back toward Red Vale, Shane figured now was time to start with the game.
"Question number one," he said. Star felt his eyes on her, but she kept hers on the road, bracing herself for what he might ask. "I'll make it an easy one. Married, divorced, or single?"
"Single," she answered.
The corner of his mouth twisted into a dimple producing grin. "Good to know. Now, it's your turn."
"Hmm." She tapped her finger on her chin and told him, "There are so many things I'd like to know. It's only twenty-one questions, and I don't want to waste any. But I'll give you an easy one to start with. How old are you?"
"How old do you want me to be?" he said.
"Here's another rule. No answering the questions with a question," she said.
"I'm twenty-one. Just like the number of questions," he said with an exaggerated wink. "Old enough to be legal in all fifty states."
Chapter Twenty-One
When they got home and were in the middle of putting away the groceries, Star felt her vibrating in the pocket of her jeans. She grinned at the text from Taylor: I miss my Stelly. Hope you're doing well.
Shane eyed her curiously and asked, "Good news?"
"Just a friend saying hi," she said.
Shane retrieved his phone from his coat and asked, "What's your number?"
"Why do you want my number?"
"So I can be the one to put a smile on that pretty face of yours," he told her. His eyes locked with hers, and she blushed under their heat. She recited her number while he added it to his phone. A few seconds later her phone vibrated with a text. Her face turned an even darker shade of red when she read his words: I could think of better ways to make u smile, but this'll do 4 now.
"I think you just like embarrassing me," she teased as she stored his number, bringing her total number of saved contacts to two.
The Heart Knows What the Heart Wants Page 7