by S. L. Scott
When I look up, Jason is leaning against the garage. I still don’t have a good read on him, but I feel like making amends these days, so I dismount and say, “I owe you a thank you.”
He comes over and shakes my hand. “You don’t.”
“My mom hasn’t said much, but I know you played a bigger part in her survival than either of you will let on.”
“She’s good at respecting privacy.” He looks at the bike and kicks the front tire. “Nice bike.”
“Does Sara Jane know you’re here?”
“We already said our goodbye.”
“Ah. How’d she take it? She’s not one to handle goodbyes well.” A shrug and a glance in another direction tells me what I need to know. “There’s something about her, something that makes you want to stay.”
“No point in hanging around any longer.”
“She’ll miss you.”
“You’ll comfort her, and she’ll forget about me.”
“What exactly happened in that mountain town?”
“You’re threatened over ancient history, King, when you don’t have to be. She’s loyal to a fault.”
King. Maybe I’ll let him keep calling me that. “I know.”
“Then why are you asking me about a time that doesn’t matter?”
I lean both hands on the leather seat and drop my head. “I came close to losing her.”
“Not to me.” When I look back up at him, he smiles. “She may have been two hundred miles away, but you were always on her mind.”
“If I could change one thing, it would be the day she came back. Even if it meant her not coming back to me.”
He nods, seeming to agree. “Emotionally, she was already home with you. She just hadn’t left yet. You can’t change fate, but you guys changed your destiny. Congrats on the big day.” He walks to my old motorcycle and says, “I’m taking this bike. You don’t need it anymore, right?”
“No. I think I’ll stick with this one for a while.”
“Take care of Sara Jane and Madeline, and tell Neely goodbye from me.” Jason moves the kickstand up and walks my black bike out of the garage.
“You can stay for the reception and tell them yourself if you want.”
“I think it’s best if I go.” The bike roars to life and he slips a helmet on. “A little word of advice. Don’t ever forget what you’ve got.”
“What’s that?”
“A reason to stay.”
“I won’t. Not ever.”
Adding dark sunglasses, he gives me a two-finger salute and takes off down the drive.
My new bike’s nice, but not as nice as my wife. Ten minutes is too long to be away from her side, so I return to the terrace. Toasts are made and I take over the music, wanting a chance to dance with my Firefly.
As twilight becomes night, “Heal” by Tom Odell starts playing just as I take her hand and guide her to the middle of the dance floor. We sway, but soon our arms are wrapped around each other—the music, like our guests, beyond our universe of two.
When one song ends, we stay for two more. It doesn’t matter that they’re fast and pop. We stay, slow-dancing the night away.
Until we’re starved. We make small plates, and I look up to find an unlikely trio together—Langley, Brown, and Cruise sharing some laughs. The murder on the West End was pinned on Garvey Penner as a break-in looking to rob the place, so he could buy more drugs for April. I’m not sure how that story was thrown into the mix, but it stuck, and the police stopped snooping around.
The attack on Sara Jane and Chad was a tangled web that Quincy helped navigate, and Brown and Langley were eager to close. After all, their two suspects were dead. Somehow they found Nastas’s cell phone and were satisfied with that evidence. Case closed.
Since he shot April, Brown went through his own hearing. It was determined to be in the defense of Sara Jane. His badge isn’t in view tonight, but neither is that asshole act he used to put on for me. We’ve come to a silent agreement. I lie low and don’t cause trouble. He lets us be, and right now we’re happy. I join them and am handed a cold beer by my best friend.
I keep an eye on my girl. Shelly drags her out to dance. It’s good to see them enjoying their time together. Laughing. Joking. Dancing like their friendship never imploded.
“How does it feel?”
Cruise elbows me, bringing me back to the conversation in front of me. “What?”
He nods toward Langley, who says, “I asked how does it feel to have your mother back?”
I look at him. “Great. It’s a mirac—” My sentence cut off abruptly, and I give him a second look. Scraping a finger along my brow, I ask, “How’d you get that scar?”
Langley touches a scar just below his eyebrow. “This old thing? Danger of the job. No big deal.”
I glance at Cruise, and he’s staring at him too. Langley’s height matches the man in the black cap I saw when leaving the building with my mom. I take a long pull on my beer then nod, trying not to let on that we know. But I have to say something. He’s the reason my best friend lives today. He’s the reason I’m alive. “Thanks for all you’ve done for my family and me, when you didn’t have to.”
“It’s my job,” he replies nonchalantly.
“I think we both know you’ve gone out of your way to help, so thank you. I would not be here today if you considered me just another troubled kid to deal with.”
He shifts uncomfortably under the compliment. “The bad guys got what they deserved.”
Brown interjects, “Justice. It’s always served.”
“Keep it up, fellas.”
A song begins, and I move around the terrace to find my mom. I love that I can turn around and see her again. “Will you dance with me?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
As we dance slowly, I see the woman behind the person I only saw as my mom before. She smiles and says, “Sara Jane is wonderful. I’ve enjoyed my time with her this last month.”
“Do you remember the night I thought I killed that firefly and cried?”
“I remember the night you thought it had flown away, but when you opened your eyes—”
“You told me if I set her free, she’d come back, and she did,” I whisper.
“Because the two of you were always meant to be.”
“Magic.”
“Magic.”
“Can I ask you about Neely?”
“She might be a better person to ask.”
Nodding, I reply, “Maybe, but I’d like to hear your side. Did she always know you were alive?”
“No. Like everyone else, I couldn’t tell her until I knew I could trust her not to tell anyone, even you.” She rubs my cheek. “I’m sorry about that.”
“I understand why you did it, but I don’t know why I couldn’t be a part of it.”
“Son, sometimes decisions are made that you may not fully understand but are made to protect you.”
I’ve made those with Sara Jane. I hated keeping her in the dark, but it was to protect her. Now I know it’s better if she knows. “He loved you.”
“He loved money more than me, more than his own blood. He loved power. He wasn’t meant to die. He resorted to something none of us would have chosen for him. I firmly believe he took that route because he knew he had no other outs. With all the dirty deals he had made, he would have ended up in jail eventually. He doesn’t matter now. Our goal was to secure your future, and that’s been done.”
“You really don’t want any of the money?”
“Now that I’m alive again, I have access to my own funds. Just promise that no matter how much money you have or make, you don’t lose sight of the woman over there, who can’t seem to take her eyes off you. Love her with all your heart, Alexander.”
“That’s an easy promise to make. After all, you both taught me how.” I lean down and kiss my mom on the cheek.
I pass Sara Jane’s parents slow-dancing with champagne in their hands and smiles on their faces. I n
od to her dad, and he sends an approving one back. Neely and Sara Jane are chatting quietly off to the side. When I approach, Sara Jane’s hand reaches for mine. I take it, happy to have the contact. I listen as she tells Neely, “You once told me some people only shine when they’re free. I thought you meant me, but you meant Alexander.”
She nods. “You freed him from the curse he was wearing like a noose around his neck.”
“It came in the form of a coat of arms,” I add.
She squeezes my hand. “You’ve been freed.”
Neely smiles. “Blood and a last name don’t dictate the person you’re meant to be.” She reaches out and touches my cheek. “You’re so much like your mother.” There’s no need to explain which mother. Thank God I only have the one who wants the best for me. “You’re unwavering and clever, and when you love, you love big. Congratulations on the nuptials.”
I hug her. “Thank you for always being here for Sara Jane and me.”
Sara Jane adds, “Thank you.”
Smiling, Neely jokes with her, “I’ll handle things around here. You have your hands full with this one, so just enjoy being a newlywed.”
Weddings seem to bring out the sentimental in me. I lean over and hug her. “Thank you, Neely. For all you have done for me, but mostly for continuing to believe in me even when I stopped believing in myself.”
“I’d do anything for you and Sara Jane. I hope you know that.”
“I do.” Wrapping my arm around Sara Jane’s shoulders, I reply, “And we’d do the same for you.”
“Before I forget, thanks for the pay raise.”
“More than deserved.”
This time it’s Sara Jane that excuses us. “It’s been an amazing day, but I’m ready to leave for our honeymoon.”
Now that’s a plan I can get onboard with.
As the private jet’s engines roar to life, I reach over and take Sara Jane’s hand. “You ready?”
“You’ve already given me the ride of my life, Alexander Kingwood. I can’t wait to see what you have planned next.”
“Buckle up, baby. This journey’s just beginning.”
Epilogue
Sara Jane Kingwood
Some days it’s easier to forget what’s happened. I’m caught up in our day, our life, our love, and forget the past. Today, walking onto campus with my coffee in hand and my backpack straddling my shoulders, is one of those days.
I pass Maya, a former classmate of mine who used to drive me mad with jealousy last year. My emotions were all over the place back then, but that stuff doesn’t bother me now. I don’t have those same insecurities when it comes to Alexander. After what we’ve been through, jealousy doesn’t even enter my heart. It’s too full with our love to fit anyway. “Hi,” I say, passing her by and adding in a small wave.
As if she saw a ghost, she replies, “Sara Jane?”
I stop when she does, my hand grazing over my healing side. “Yeah, hi.”
“You’re back?”
“Wrapping up my degree this semester.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Time off. I needed some time off.”
“Oh.” She nods, a small smile tipping her mouth at the corners. But then her gaze redirects beyond me, her pupils dilate, and the smile gone. I know what that means, or who it means more precisely. “See you around,” she says and hightails it in the opposite direction.
I turn around to see Alexander coming toward me. Like my world, my breath slows in my chest as I take him in. All else fades away. The star of my universe has a wide smile on his face, his eyes intense and focused on me. Only me. My body stills to appreciate the sight of him. A white T-shirt hugs his biceps a little too tightly and stretches across his muscular chest. It’s untucked over jeans, as if that will downplay the money spent on it.
It’s like we never veered off this track. I remember him so clearly crossing the campus six or so months ago as I stood a few floors above in the library. He never fit this campus. His presence easily overwhelms us mere mortals.
I asked him years ago why he chose to stay and go to school here . . .
“You have a choice. You could go anywhere with your grades and the financial support you have behind you.”
“You ask as if I have a say in the matter.”
. . . He stayed for me.
I often thought about our vows and the unrehearsed words we spoke from our hearts a few weeks ago. He said he’d choose me. It made me uncomfortable to think he’d choose me over his mother. But maybe it wasn’t a choice between his mother dying and me living. Maybe he wasn’t choosing between us, but choosing his own destiny . . .
His smile could make the sun envious. He touches my cheek and whispers, “I could never leave you behind. You’ve become the best part of my day, so I choose you. Forever.”
. . . Going to him, my arms slip around his middle, his around my waist, and we kiss. Who cares that we’re in the middle of campus or have hundreds of eyes watching our every move? Not us.
My hands slide down his arms. The dips and rises of hard, structured muscle beneath my palms feel wonderful. He’s put on the weight he lost and bulked up even more since he’s been back.
I’ve kept my eyes on him, watching him take out his anger, his pain, his past on the weights in the gym, punching that bag as if it’s someone in particular. It’s a healthy addiction, so I’m not one to complain, especially since I benefit. Holding his hands, I bite my lip, thinking about last night and how I rocked on top of him until we both came, bodies slick with sweat. Sex with my husband is undeniably incredible. Every time.
The heavy heat igniting deep in my body never seems satisfied these days, not since our honeymoon. As much as I tease him about his designer T-shirts, I’m grateful for the good things money can buy—not people or an end to a means, but time together. Ten blissful days alone on an island in the middle of the Caribbean with this man will never be enough. He wanted to buy it. I told him no. Now I don’t know why.
There’s too much money to spend in five lifetimes. Maybe I just need to learn to enjoy it, turn the negative associated with it into a positive by generously donating. We’re considering charities that help get addicts off the street, find homes for the homeless, or offer scholarships for college students in Chad’s name. Shelly wants to run it, and I agree she’d be a great candidate to lead that foundation.
Alexander asks, “What are you thinking about?”
“Our honeymoon and our future.”
The lines around his eyes soften, and he kisses my temple. “I miss the solitude with you on the island.”
“I miss watching you walk out of the ocean—bright smile, wet hair, the sunshine reflecting off your tanned body.”
“That’s quite the visual, Mrs. Kingwood.”
“You always did give good . . . visual.”
He chuckles, and leans down just enough to be eye level with me. “I learned from the best. I can’t wait to see that naked ass of yours later.”
Toying with the bottom of his shirt, the hem twists between my fingers as I hold him close. “One day my ass will droop,” I start, my eyes going wide, “or double. What then?”
“I’ll love you like I do now, if not more. More of you to love, right?” He laughs and I punch him playfully in the stomach. It’s like hitting a brick wall. I’m shaking my hand when he brings it to his lips and kisses it. “Are you kissing my booboo?”
“Yes, I’ll make you feel so much better . . . later.” He takes a step back and adjusts my backpack straps on my shoulders. “Going my way?”
“Unfortunately not. I’m going in there.”
His sky-blue eyes follow the direction in which I nod. They’re clearer these days, the darkness centered in the middle of pools of light. I’ve never seen that carefree side Cruise once spoke about, the side that existed before his mother’s death. But I like seeing Alexander smile more, and I’ll take that on a day-to-day basis. “I’ll see you at home tonight.”
“S
ee you there.” We walk away, not wanting to say the words we’ve said too much in our time together. But I glance back, unable to leave him and not say anything. Standing where I left him, a small smile plays on his lips as he watches me. In moments like these, the raw pain of what happened to us grips me. How our lives would be so empty without each other. My eyes fill with tears, and I return to his open arms. Tucked safely against him, I don’t have to say anything at all, both of us already know.
I’m alive.
He’s alive.
Our fairy tale continues, but now we are no longer pawns in the game. We reign over it.
He’s my king.
I’m his queen.
And that’s enough. For now.
As his hand runs the distance from my neck to my lower back, luring goosebumps in his wake, he whispers, “Magic.”
Magic indeed.
The End.
Check out the surprise on the next page:
If you loved The Kingwood Duet and would like to get to know the mysterious Jason, stay tuned. His book is coming late September 2017. Add to your Goodreads here: CLICK HERE
A little sneak peek into his story:
Looking at her on that front porch now, she’s still so damn beautiful. I see that same look in her eyes that I remember from back then. It’s the one that brought me to my knees the first time I ever laid eyes on her.
I scrub my hands through my soaked hair and question everything I’m about to do.
When I see her smile and she sends me a small wave, I do it, damning the consequences of our past, and stupidly thinking, maybe we can pick up where we were. Or just have a cup of coffee and catch up. I’m good at lying to myself like that.
Or maybe like the first go round, there’s nowhere for us to go except down.
I swing my leg off the bike and cut the engine to the black Harley to find out. I shove my hands into the pockets of my wet leather jacket and start walking across that lawn I’ve walked a million times. This time, hoping for a different outcome.
I take hold of the railing that wobbles and is covered in chipped paint, prop one foot up on the bottom step, and stare right at her.