by Megan Hart
close. I'm going to come. My back skids suddenly along
the plaster as Austin shifts.
"Paige! Goddamn it!"
"Put your hand on my throat," I whisper.
"Put your hand on my throat," I whisper.
And Austin does.
His hand can't close al the way around my neck, but it's
big enough to come pretty close. We move together,
sliding as sweat makes us slick and fucking leaves him
unsteady. Something rips into me. A nail left from a picture
knocked off the wal when once I slammed a door. I can't
cry out, I can't breathe, he's done what I asked and taken
my breath again.
Austin's fingers close tighter and my fingernails dig deeper
and we both come at the same time. Only after that does
he put me down, his hands shaking, and then sink to the
ratty tied-rag rug that always manages to slip out of place
on the dirty hardwood floor. I don't quite fal, but I
colapse into a crouch.
My back stings. Hot blood drips steadily down my back,
over my ass and down my leg. I sip in the air and wait for
the world to stop rocking and my body to stop pulsing. It
seems to take a very long time.
He won't look at me.
He gave me what I wanted, but it's the last time I'll ask
Austin for anything for a long time. I move out the
next day, letting the bruises on my neck and stitches
on my back speak when I will say nothing. He gave me
what I wanted, what I needed, but the price was high.
Too high.
Someone came into the bathroom and entered the stal at
the far end. I couldn't stay there, holding back sobs and
trying not to breathe. I washed my hands and face again,
and looked in the mirror to be sure nothing was out of
place. I went back to my desk and got back to work,
wishing for a list to take up al my attention so I didn't have
to think about the past.
I was realy going to leave Paul. Move on. Move up.
But what about the rest of my life? Was I going to move
on and up from it?
Chapter 35
"Thanks for taking me." I gathered up my purse and
sweater while my dad puled into the spot next to my car.
"I appreciate it."
"No problem." He drummed the steering wheel with his
fingertips and stared out the window at the hospital. "So.
Your mom's in there, huh?"
I sat back against the leather seat of his BMW and
nodded. "Yes. She has breast cancer, and there were
complications with the surgery."
He flinched, his cheeks paling. My dad swalowed hard.
His fingers stiled and gripped the wheel. He didn't look at
me. "How does she look?"
It wasn't exactly the question I thought he'd ask, and it
annoyed me. "She looks like someone who's sick and who
almost died. How do you think she looks?"
"I meant how is she," he said, but I didn't quite believe him.
"You could go see her yourself." I knew he wouldn't. My
parents weren't enemies, but in my entire life they'd never
been anything like friends.
"Yeah. Yeah, I could do that." He licked his lips, then
turned to me with a bright, hard grin. "I don't think she'd
see me, do you?"
"I don't know." I shrugged. "Maybe you could just send her flowers."
The easy way out. He nodded and hunched forward,
looking upward to the hospital building as though he was
trying to pick out which window was hers. Her room was
on the other side, but I didn't mention that.
"Thanks again for the ride," I said.
"You know, I did love her, Paige. Your mother. I'm sure
she's said otherwise—"
"She's never said, either way." I shifted, my hand on the
door handle. I wanted to escape this conversation before it
happened, but I didn't get out.
"She hasn't?" My dad looked surprised.
"She never realy talked much about you at al, Dad."
This didn't make him very happy, and his eyebrows
beetled down. I caught a glint of silver threads in them,
too, against the blond. He sat back in his seat and turned
toward me.
"She had to have said something. I mean…I'm your dad."
"She never gave me details," I told him as gently as I
could. "It realy wasn't my business, was it?"
Not to mention how squicky it would be to hear details
about the affair that had resulted in my birth. I'd known my
whole life who my dad was, and that I only saw him
sometimes. That he had a couple other families more
important than mine, and that he always had more money
that somehow never made its way into my mom's walet
the way it should've. But I hadn't ever asked for details,
the wheres and whys and whens. I'd assumed she loved
him. I'd never considered that he might have loved her.
"I did, though. Love her." My dad cleared his throat. "You look like her, Paige. So much now."
He hadn't seen her in years, and I looked like him, but I
He hadn't seen her in years, and I looked like him, but I
smiled. "Thanks."
"She was so beautiful, you wouldn't believe it. She knew
just how to make a cup of coffee, too, my God, that
woman was a wizard." He drifted into memories, no longer
seeing me.
I wasn't impressed with his recolection. She was pretty
and made good coffee. Nice. What about she was smart,
kind, generous, funny? That she made a wicked meat loaf
and could stretch a budget so thin you could see through it,
but stil come up with the cash for a new pair of sneakers
or a birthday cake.
"My first wife didn't realy understand me."
I groaned. "Oh, Jesus, Dad. God."
I got out of the car and slammed the door. I didn't want to
listen to his crock-of-shit explanations for why he'd fucked
his secretary, knocked her up and left her to raise their kid
alone. I didn't want to hear his reasons for being unfaithful.
Maybe if he'd married my mother, if the story had become
a fairy tale with a happily-ever-after, with me, their pretty
princess, in a white dress and white patent-leather shoes
princess, in a white dress and white patent-leather shoes
with a pony and a clown at her birthday party, I might
have cared. I might have listened. But as it was, I turned
my back and tried to leave him behind.
My dad got of the car, too. "Paige!"
There had been few occasions when my dad had to raise
his voice tone. I'd always been so terrified he'd stop loving
me, I'd never misbehaved. My feet stiled automaticaly,
but I didn't turn.
He caught up to me and reached for my arm, but didn't
grab it when I glared. "Paige. Wait a minute."
"Dad, realy. I have to get inside. I promised Mom I'd stop
by and I have to get home to take care of Arty."
He looked blank.
"Arty. My brother." I didn't add the "half." "He's in an afterschool-care program, but I have to get back in time to
pick him up."
He looked up again at the building, then back at me. "I
don't think I'd better go in there. But wil you t
el her I
asked about her?"
asked about her?"
"Of course." I paused, then decided not to hold back.
"You know, Dad, she's been laid off from the factory for
the past couple months. I don't know what her insurance is
like, but I'm sure she could use some money."
"Did she tel you to ask me that?"
I'd been annoyed before, but now his quick suspicion
pissed me off. "No. She wouldn't. But you have it, and she
needs it."
My dad shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and
looked at the ground. "How much does she need?"
"How much can you spare for someone you say you
loved?" I shot back, not caring if I made him mad.
He looked up at me. "You realy don't know the story,
Paige."
"I don't have to know it, Dad."
We faced each other over cracked concrete and neither of
us moved. My father sighed and stretched his neck back
and forth, then tossed up his hands. "If I give you a check,
and forth, then tossed up his hands. "If I give you a check,
wil you give it to her?"
"Yes, sure. Of course I wil."
He eyed me, then leaned back into the car and fumbled
around before puling out a checkbook. He scribbled
hastily and tore it off, then pressed it into my hand as
though he was afraid he might change his mind and take it
back. I didn't look at it, just tucked it in half inside my
palm. My dad could be generous, but I didn't want to
know, just then, if he'd made me proud or disappointed
me.
"And tel her…tel her I was asking about her. Okay?"
"Yes, Dad."
"How about you? You need anything?" He held up the
checkbook, but I waved it away.
"No. I'm fine. I'm going to be getting a new job."
He looked impressed. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm going to be in a new marketing program."
"Wil they give you a raise?" He didn't wait for an answer.
"It's about time they recognized your potential at that
place. Gave you a step-up."
"Nobody's giving me a step-up. I interviewed, I'm
qualified. It's not a favor, Dad."
"Of course it isn't." He tucked the checkbook into his
jacket pocket. "I didn't mean that it was."
I straightened my shoulders. "I'd better get inside."
My dad held open his arms as if he expected a hug. I gave
him one, stiff armed as it was, and he kissed my cheek. He
squeezed my shoulder.
"I'm proud of you, Paige. You should know that."
I shrugged and smiled and left before he could get
sentimental. When I gave my mom the check, she stared at
it for a long time before she unfolded it. She blinked
rapidly when she saw whatever he'd written, then folded it
tight again and handed it to me.
"Would you put that in my purse in the drawer, there, hon?
I'l have to get you to run it to the bank for me later." Her
I'l have to get you to run it to the bank for me later." Her
voice stil sounded hoarse but her color was better, and
she was sitting up. She'd brushed her hair and held it back
from her face with a pretty headband.
"Aren't you surprised at al?" I put the check inside her
walet and closed the drawer.
"At what? That you were able to shame your dad into
helping me out? Or at how much he gave?"
"Both?" I didn't ask her how she'd known I'd been the one
to force his hand.
My mom smiled and patted the side of the bed. "Come
here, Paige."
I did.
"I never told you why your dad and me never made it."
I sighed. "Mom, I realy don't care. I know al the experts
would say it traumatized me for life."
"Hush," she ordered, and I fel silent. "Me and your dad, when we met…wel, it was realy good. Right off the bat. I
knew he wasn't happy at home, and not because he told
knew he wasn't happy at home, and not because he told
me. I'd had plenty of guys tel me al about how their wives
didn't understand them, or how their marriages had been
over for a long time before I came along. I knew what I
was looking at. It wasn't your dad who came after me,
Paige. I went after him."
"Mom. I realy don't want to know."
"Wel, I want to tel you," she said. "So shut up and let me do it, or I swear I'l come back and haunt you if I die."
"Stop. You're not going to die for a long, long time." I told her and squeezed her hand.
"So I fel for this guy so hard it was like someone had
snuck up behind me and shoved me down a flight of stairs.
I just thought he was the handsomest, most special,
smartest…sexiest…"
I grimaced. "Okay, I get it. You were into my dad."
"Oh, no. Not your dad," my mother said. "Denny. Me and your dad used to go out after work sometimes for drinks.
He needed to get away from home, for whatever reason, I
guess it was because he wife was a ful-on bitch, but
guess it was because he wife was a ful-on bitch, but
whatever. Me and him and Dennis used to go out after
work and just hang out."
"Denny?" I shook my head, thinking of my dad's longtime
buddy. "But…you and dad…and…wait a minute.
Denny?"
"Oh, sure. Denny." She gave a happy sigh. "He was so
handsome. I was crazy about Denny."
"But what happened?"
"Wel," my mother said, "as it happened, Denny wasn't as crazy about me. I caught him stepping out on me with
some whore he picked up at the Downtown Lounge on
dolar draft nights. What with one thing and then another,
with your dad not happy at home and me brokenhearted
about Denny, we sort of just turned to one another."
I got up from the bed and paced the narrow corridor
between it and the wal. My world had done its share of
flips over the past couple days, but this had stood me on
end. I finaly sat in the chair and linked my hands together.
My mother had been watching me patiently. "You al
right?"
right?"
"I'm fine."
Her laugh trailed off into a cough, and I gave her a drink.
"Paige, I'm sorry. I know you had some idea in your head
about me and your dad, but it's time you knew."
"He said he loved you!" I blurted.
"Wel, I was pretty damn good," my mom said. "Don't men always think they love a realy good lay?"
"Oh, Mom." I shook my head. "Was that al it was? A
mistake?"
"No. It was the best mistake I ever made," my mother said
with a smile. "Because I ended up with you."
Chapter 36
It was sily to be shy around Austin, but I was. He'd seen
every part of me, the best and worst, and that should've
made me more comfortable with him than anyone else.
That was the way it had been when we were together, but
now…now things had changed and I was stil not sure
what that meant for either one of us.
He wasn't pushing, for once. He caled to ask me about
my mom and to see if I wanted to meet him for dinner. He
didn't say it was a date, but that's what it felt like it had to
be on a Saturday ni
ght. I told him I was busy, that I was
tired, I told him a bunch of excuses and he listened to each
one with a soft "mmm-hmm" but no protest.
"Tomorrow, then," Austin said.
"I have plans tomorrow," I told him, and he was silent.
"But…Austin, I'l cal you."
"Okay, Paige. You do that."
He hung up, and I wondered if I'd lost him. I dialed him
after five minutes, and when he picked up, I said, "I told
after five minutes, and when he picked up, I said, "I told
you I'd cal you."
He laughed. "You changed your mind?"
I thought of a hotel room and a man on his knees. "I do
have plans tomorrow. But I wil cal you. Okay?"
"With that guy?"
I should've known caling him back would lead to a
conversation I didn't want to have. "Yes. Eric."
"Does he treat you right?"
I laughed. "Oh, Austin."
"I want to know."
"He…it's not realy…like that."
Austin grunted. "Then what's it like?"
"I can't explain it to you." I sighed. "Listen, I'm realy wiped out. I'm going to go take a hot bath and read a
book and go to bed."
"No dinner?"
"No dinner?"
He could be persistent, and charming, and I loved him.
Suddenly, I loved Austin with everything I had inside me.
More than I ever had, years before, when I was young
and stupid and had no idea what it meant to love someone.
I knew now, because I'd had it and lost it. And then I was
crying, a hand over my eyes and swalowing hard to keep
him from hearing. But Austin heard me, anyway.
"Paige? What's wrong? Is it your mom?"
I couldn't tel him. Not until everything else had been taken
care of and I'd done al I needed to do. I couldn't tel
Austin I loved him without knowing for sure I could let him
love me.
"I have to go," I said, but didn't hang up. I even loved his breathing, the familiar in-and-out of it. I wanted to hold on
to it for a minute longer.
"Paige," Austin said in a low voice. "Remember what I said."
Whatever it takes.
I remembered.
"I have to go, Austin. I'l cal you. Later."
I hung up that time. I wanted to cry. And then I did.
"Paige. How nice to see you again. What can I do for you
today? Something pretty for a friend? Something nice for
yourself?" Miriam's warm, crimson-painted smile didn't
urge an answering grin from me.
It wasn't her fault. I felt as white and thin as paper held to
a too-bright light. I felt ready to tear.