Chasing a Dream

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Chasing a Dream Page 6

by Beth Cornelison


  A staccato knock on the door reverberated through the room like gunfire. Tess jerked, tension thrumming through her as her attention darted to the door.

  “Hang tight. I’ll get it.” Justin swung his legs off the bed and shoved to his feet.

  Tess shrank back out of view and listened, her heart drumming.

  “Evenin’,” Justin drawled.

  “Twenty-one sixty-five,” the delivery boy said.

  Tess released the breath she’d been holding. The pizza. Not a hit man.

  Justin took the pizza and brought it inside as Tess got her purse. She opened it only a crack, careful to conceal the bundles of bills she’d gotten that morning at the bank. Keeping the huge amount of cash in her purse made her nervous, but what option did she have?

  She fished a bill out and thrust it at Justin. He handed her the pizza as he took the money, mumbling under his breath, “Expensive vegetables.”

  When his gaze dropped to the bill she’d handed him, he gave a low whistle. “I hope he’s got enough change.”

  Her gaze flickered to the one-hundred-dollar bill she’d drawn out. Snatching it back, she traded it for a twenty and a five. “Tell him to keep the change.”

  While she put the pizza box on the bed and knelt on the floor, he paid the delivery boy and locked the door.

  “How is it? It smells fantastic.” He tucked a long leg under him as he sat on the floor beside her, bending his other leg in front of him.

  Tess handed him a large slice with cheese strings dripping from the sides. “It’s hot. Be careful.”

  They ate in silence for several minutes, demolishing half the pizza in record time.

  “So, which way are you thinking of heading tomorrow?” Justin picked up his fourth slice and peered at her over the gooey cheese. “Do you have a destination in mind? A friend somewhere you can stay with?”

  She chewed her pizza thoughtfully, shaking her head. “No. I’ll go wherever the road leads, I guess.”

  Her response earned her a lopsided grin from Justin. “I like a woman with a sense of adventure.”

  Tess scoffed. “Adventure never factored into this trip. A sense of panic is more like it. Now I’m just drifting . . . sorting through things. I’ve got a lot of decisions to make.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. Before he could ask more questions, she grabbed for the first topic she could think of to redirect the conversation. “Tell me about the rest of your family. Are they all in Wallerton?”

  Chuckling, he wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Wellerton.”

  “Whatever.”

  “My parents are in Wellerton, but I have an older brother who’s an attorney in Austin. A real hotshot, that Brian. I’m a bit of a disappointment to my parents compared to my brother.”

  “Don’t say that!”

  Justin shrugged. “It’s the truth, and I’m used to it. Every time I got into trouble growing up, they gave me the ‘why can’t you be responsible like Brian’ lecture. I never finished college and didn’t have a white-collar job like Brian. Instead, I framed houses for a construction company by day and played at a honky-tonk by night. That is, until last week, when I decided to ditch everything for a shot at the brass ring. My parents hated that decision. They thought I should be more settled, more ‘practical about life.’ ” He said the last phrase in a deeper voice, apparently mimicking his father.

  Pausing long enough to take another bite, he glanced at her as he continued. “But I can’t settle for something else. I love music. It’s what I was meant to do. I know it is.”

  Blue fire sparked to life in his eyes, and Tess grinned.

  “I like a man with faith in his dreams.”

  Justin flashed a wry grin. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Amy, my ex-girlfriend, thought I was crazy to insist on going to Nashville. We parted friends, but her lack of faith hurt. I’m as determined to prove them all wrong as I am to succeed for my own sake.” He cast her a sideways glance, twisting his mouth. “Petty of me, huh?”

  In answer, Tess reached for his hand and curled her fingers around his. The gesture felt right, felt good. Justin squeezed back. “I don’t know,” she said. “Didn’t anyone support you? Encourage you? Respect your talent and your courage to pursue your dream?”

  Somber shadows stole over his face, and he slipped his hand out of hers to rake his fingers through his hair. “Rebecca did.”

  “Rebecca? Your angel?”

  Turning away from her, he locked his gaze on the opposite wall. His expression remained dark, and the muscles in his square jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. The shift in his mood piqued her curiosity.

  “That is one butt-ugly picture,” he mumbled.

  Tess turned to glance at the painting across the room. “Fits the decor though. The whole room is ugly.”

  He swept his gaze around the room, as if seeing it for the first time, and grunted. “You’re right.”

  When he fell silent again, brooding, Tess started cleaning up the pizza. He was clearly reluctant to discuss Rebecca, so she let the subject drop. He’d respected her right to have secrets, and she’d give him the same privilege. Rising from the floor with the pizza box in her hand, she moved to put the leftover pizza in the trash.

  “She was my sister.”

  His admission replayed in her head a couple times before the oddity of his phrasing finally sank in. “Was?”

  “She died a couple years ago. Rather, she was murdered.”

  Tess numbly set the pizza box on the edge of the sink and stared at him. She swallowed hard before she found her voice. “Oh, my God. Justin, I’m so sorry.”

  Lifting a hard gaze to meet hers, he squinted at her. “Why? You have no reason to be sorry. Her death wasn’t your fault.”

  She blinked at him. “I just meant I—”

  “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I let her die.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tess stared at Justin mutely for the space of several stumbling heartbeats. Pain filled his eyes, and the back of her neck prickled with apprehension. “What do you mean?”

  He looked away and ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily. “It’s not pretty. You sure you want to hear it?”

  A dark foreboding crept through her, and she trembled. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she sank on the edge of the bed. She’d thought she needed to know his motivation for helping her, but now she wasn’t sure. Did she want to hear the truth? She had enough horror in her life without hearing the ugliness in Justin’s life as well. Still, she heard her voice, weak and raspy, whisper, “Go on.”

  He stared at her with a spooky intensity before he spoke. “Rebecca was three years older than me. She met Mac in college, and they got married after dating for just four months. He was an engineering student and kind of conservative. Rebecca was the exact opposite of him in so many ways. I couldn’t understand the attraction between them, but since Rebecca seemed happy, I kept my mouth shut.”

  He rubbed his hands on his jeans, and his breathing grew shallow and quick. He stared at the painting across from him, though she knew from his expression he saw nothing. He shuddered, lost in his memories. Clearing his throat, he forged on. “One night she came by my apartment. She’d had a fight with Mac and . . .” Justin gritted his teeth, scrunching his face with the emotion that tortured him. “The bastard had given my sister a bloody lip and a black eye.”

  Nausea gripped Tess. She knew too well where his story was going. “Oh, God.” Pressing a shaky hand to her mouth, she watched Justin wrestle with the past, her heart breaking for him. Her mind reeled with the implications of what he told her. After a heavy silence, she asked, “What did you do?”

  Justin scoffed. “Not jack shit.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head in regret. “Not that night, anyway. I wanted to rip Mac apart. I was on my way out the door to give the jerk a taste of his own medicine, but Rebecca begged me not to. She swore it wouldn’t happen again. She defended the creep and went on and on about how he loved her and
how she’d provoked him.”

  A weary sigh hissed through his teeth. “She made me swear not to tell our parents or Brian. She made me promise not to say or do anything, telling me she could handle him, swearing she would be all right. But she wasn’t all right. It happened again. This time I didn’t listen to her pleas not to hurt Mac. I tracked him down at a local bar and beat the snot out of him. Got arrested for my efforts, too. You can imagine how my parents loved that!”

  “Didn’t you explain why—”

  “Naw. I’d promised Becca not to say anything, and a man’s only as good as his word. They already thought I was a screwup, so what difference would it have made?” He looked down at his hands, which he’d clenched in tight fists. “All I did by pounding Mac was give Becca one more thing to worry about. Mac’s abuse didn’t stop. I quit college so I could be nearby and keep an eye on the situation, for all the good that did. I begged her to leave him. I threatened her. I nagged her. But I never told anyone. I never called the police. And she always went back to him.” Justin’s tone held years of self-reproach and guilt. “He hit her in the head with a golf club one night and killed her.”

  Compassion for his pain flooded Tess, crimping her throat. She ached for some way to relieve his suffering, but his story left her too stunned, too shaken to move. “Justin, you tried—”

  “I didn’t try hard enough!” His blue eyes flashed, cutting through her like lasers. With a scorching curse, he kicked the legs of a nearby chair with his bare heel. The chair rocked then tipped over. “I knew she was in danger, and I didn’t do enough!”

  The anger in his voice warned her to back off. Common sense told her his frustration had nothing to do with her. But Randall had never needed a reason to take his rancor out on her.

  Tess pulled her knees to her chest and huddled on the bed, watching Justin warily. While an inner voice reasoned that any man who’d fought to free his sister from a violent man would never use violence on a woman himself, her survival instinct still went on full alert.

  Burying his face in his hands, he sucked in several deep breaths. When he lifted his head and met her gaze, the tension in his expression had eased, though his eyes were still bright with emotion. He pushed himself off the floor and started toward her.

  Tess lifted her chin and fixed a leery gaze on him. A knot of anxiety twisted inside her, and she scooted backward across the bed, ready to flee. When he raised a hand toward her, Tess forgot to breathe. Instinctively, she drew back, and her head bumped the wall.

  Furrowing his black eyebrows, Justin brushed her cheek with his palm. “You don’t get it, do you?” He shook his head. “I’d die before I let anyone hurt you. I turned my back once, but I will never make that mistake again.”

  The low, husky timbre of his voice wrapped around her like a hug. She filled her lungs as relief washed over her, leaving her body weak and shaking. “Then this is about your sister. You can’t forgive yourself until you save another woman in her place.”

  His hand fell away from her cheek, and he pressed his mouth in a thin line. “No. I’ll never forgive myself for letting Becca die. But I can damn well make sure it doesn’t happen to you.”

  With a sigh, she rolled off the bed, away from him. She was getting far too involved with this man for anybody’s good. She had to stay detached in order to make a clean break from him. Soon. “Go to Nashville, Justin. Forget about me. If I can find a quiet town where no one knows me, the chances of Randall finding me are remote. I’ll be fine.” She worked to infuse the statement with a credibility she didn’t feel.

  Squaring her shoulders, she met his dubious expression with her own determination. She had to convince him to go his own way. He would get himself in too deep, if she didn’t extricate herself as soon as possible. “I don’t want you involved in my problems.”

  Justin sat in the middle of the bed with his arms propped on his bent knees, his expression melancholy. “You haven’t listened to me, have you? I won’t leave you. Not until I’m sure you’re safe. I couldn’t live with myself if I walked away now, without doing anything to help you free yourself.”

  “But I am free. I got away, thanks to you. Your work is done. You’re free to go.” With a wide sweep of her arm, she motioned toward the door. “Mission accomplished.”

  He rolled his head from side to side, stretching the muscles in his neck, and he groaned. “Tell me something, Tess. Do you really believe he’s given up? Your husband sent a man after you with a gun, and now he’s just given up? Earlier today, you said—”

  “I know what I said.” Tess closed her eyes, and her shoulders drooped. “You’re like an aggravating stray dog that won’t take a hint, you know?” She looked at him squarely and shouted, “Shoo! I don’t want you. Go away!”

  His face brightened. “Nope. You messed up when you fed me. Now, I’m gonna hang around forever.”

  “I wanted to repay you,” she said, splaying her hands in exasperation. “I figured food was the least I could do after you saved my life.”

  “True.” A smart-alecky grin lit his face, and she gave up.

  The teasing, laid-back Justin she’d traveled with today had returned. Having buried the pain and frustration deep inside once more, he resumed his role as the jovial companion. But she saw his humor and teasing in a new light. People dealt with pain in different ways. Was Justin’s ready grin just a mask? His laid-back joking a shield?

  A sharp stab of sympathy pierced her heart. Her carefree and cocky cowboy proved a more complex man than she’d guessed.

  Sighing, she crossed the room to her suitcase and worked to tamp down the swell of emotion her new understanding of Justin triggered. She couldn’t afford to peel back the layers of this man and invest any of herself learning what made him tick. If she started to care about him, she’d create a bond she had no right building. She meant to get Justin out of her life as soon as she could figure out how. No point complicating her task with attachments that would hurt her when broken.

  A heaviness settled in her chest. She’d likely spend her life alone, holding herself apart from real affection or commitment or emotional connection. The hope she’d had as a young woman for the kind of love her parents had shared had been shattered in the first year of her life with Randall. Although Randall had refused to marry her legally and had tainted her view of matrimony, she clung to the memory of her parents’ happiness.

  Though she’d never vowed “till death do us part,” she hadn’t realized how ominous the truth was. Not only would she never have the chance to feel the special bond her parents had shared, she doubted she could ever truly free herself from the man who’d stolen her hopes and dreams.

  The weight in her chest tightened, rose to her throat, and Tess struggled to contain the tears that would serve no purpose. She had learned long ago to accept her lot in life. So why did she belabor the facts and torture herself now?

  Clearing her throat, she faced Justin again and scowled at him. “You’re on my bed, and I’m tired. Please move.”

  Instantly, she regretted the sharpness of her tone. She was mad at herself, not him. Discouraged by her emotional weakness, weary from the strain of the day, and pessimistic about her future, she unfairly took her frustrations out on the most convenient target.

  Such transference was unlike her. Around Randall, she had learned to bottle up her feelings and stoically bear the brunt of his temper. What had happened to her?

  Justin cocked an eyebrow and scooted off the bed. “All yours.”

  Her body and spirit sagged as she watched him meander toward his bed, where he restored his guitar to its case.

  “Justin.”

  His gaze rose to hers as he snapped the case shut. “Hm?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been rude to you all day, and it’s not right.” Guilt sapped her strength, and she wrinkled her brow. “Forgive me?”

  Bracing a hand on his hip, he regarded her with a placid expression. “Forget it. We’ve been on something of an emotional
roller coaster today. What we both need is a good night’s sleep. Things will look better in the morning.”

  Despite her fatigue, a soft smile found her lips. “The eternal optimist. You’re amazing.”

  “Attitude is everything, Tess.”

  She mustered the energy to brush her teeth before crawling into bed, but sleep eluded her. A parade of worries marched through her head. She stared into the darkness, listening to the creaking of the next bed as Justin made himself comfortable and flapped the sheets.

  “Justin?”

  “Yeah?” A sleepy rasp thickened his voice.

  “What happened to her husband? Rebecca’s husband.”

  She heard him heave a deep sigh. “After tying up the courts and fighting the charges against him for two years, he was convicted of involuntary manslaughter last month.” Bitterness colored his tone. “He’ll get out after serving just two years.”

  “Two years?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s not right.”

  He remained silent for a long time before whispering, “No, it’s not. Rebecca lost probably sixty years of her life, and Mac will only lose two.” He paused. “Good night, Tess.” His bed creaked again as he rolled over.

  Two years. Fury swirled inside her at the injustice.

  The same thing would happen with Randall, she knew. With all his connections, his ruthless power, his lethal procedures, Randall would never pay for his crimes. He’d built a business empire, a legion of minions, and an intimidating reputation by sheer will—and cutthroat tactics. Randall was a steamroller who would take down anyone or anything in his path.

  Justin had unwittingly stepped in front of a speeding locomotive.

  She accepted the fact that she would always be at risk, would always have to look over her shoulder. But she couldn’t let Justin die for her mistakes.

  She knew what she had to do.

  Her decision made, she rolled over in search of sleep.

  ***

 

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