A Running Heart

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A Running Heart Page 11

by Kendra Vasquez


  And, as if things weren’t going downhill fast enough, he just added extra momentum with Rebecca. She unknowingly possessed the capacity to have him set Amanda on the sidelines. He gazed into warm, soft gray eyes already tinging with regret. But Ryan was convinced Amanda harbored worse regret, possibly destroying her subconsciously. She had no life outside work. He’d learn that much from his discussions with Rebecca and Jay Hudson.

  Brakes squealed. A Jeep ran over a curb, climbed into the parking lot.

  Ryan let Rebecca slide down his body, but he held her close. She was a part of this family, concerned, and a fresh addition to Ryan’s resolve.

  Tonight, Amanda would tell him what she knew. He’d fill in the blanks and tell her how her life had really gone. No matter how many blanks there were, he’d suffer the consequences. From there, he’d learn the truth behind why she was attacked, what had happened. It had to do with his phone call. How else could it be explained? She’d called it ancient history. He highly doubted it. Amanda jumped down from the idling Jeep, leaving the door open as she stepped into the lamplight. Her flaming blue eyes were filled with unshed tears.

  “You bastard!” She flung sheets of paper on the ground. “Why are you doing this to me? It has to be you!”

  “Amanda, I’m sorry.” He picked up a paper and angled it into the light. “I—what is this?”

  “You tell me!” She sounded breathless.

  Then it hit him. His pulse raced. “Amanda, you remember.”

  “I never forgot!”

  He considered the photographs in his hand. “Amanda, I didn’t do this. I don’t understand.”

  “If not you, then who?”

  He took a step forward, but then he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  She took a step back and spat. “Bullshit!” Tears coursed down her face. She looked away. “I thought you came here to help me.”

  He rolled his hands into fists, crumpled the pages. “You have to let me first.”

  “Amanda . . .” Rebecca spoke beside him.

  Amanda’s raging eyes turned to Rebecca. “What!” Her eyes widened. “You know, too?”

  Rebecca shook her head.

  “Right.”

  “Amanda,” Ryan said. “Let’s go inside and talk about this. There’s more to it than you think.” Let me finish what I started.

  “As if your photos don’t say enough.” She shook her head with her eyes closed. “You can’t help me. It’s my life I screwed up.”

  “Amanda.” Rebecca pushed back into the conversation.

  “Neither can you!” Amanda glared back and forth at them. “You’ll never understand. No one could understand.”

  Ryan moved toward her.

  “No! You’ve done enough. Stay away from me. Leave me alone!” She whipped around and threw herself back into the Jeep.

  Ryan dropped the pages, stepped in front of the vehicle, and faced her with a determined look. He refused to budge even as the engine revved. The Jeep rushed back in reverse. When she pulled out of the lot, he cut through the grass median then jumped into the street, stood in her path again.

  His heart pounded. His lungs grappled for air against his panicking pulse. Hands on the vibrating hood, he was out of options.

  “Amanda, you didn’t kill her!” She had to have heard him. Her window was rolled down completely.

  On a darkened street, with headlights boring into his eyes, he could only guess her reaction. The open-space suburb held silence. The idling Jeep drowned his senses as air blew out from the engine fan. “Amanda?”

  “Too late!” Her voice cracked.

  Hitting reverse again, she drove out from underneath Ryan’s hands. He watched the Jeep make it to the other lane. It lurched back into first and headed for the light.

  Inside, a fire engulfed him. Seeing her tear-stained face, her world-weary posture . . . who had done this to her? Pushing away the immediate response that he was a contributing factor to her distress, he decided he’d hung back long enough.

  He rushed over to his truck. Before the engine finished turning over, the passenger door swung open, and he came face to face with Rebecca.

  He shook his head, ready to speak.

  “She’s my cousin.”

  He paused, recognized the determined Hudson look. From Jim, Amanda, and even more so with Rebecca, he knew he didn’t stand a chance.

  She winced when her foot came down on the floorboard.

  “Here.” He pulled a flannel out from behind the seat. “Rest it high. Put pressure on it.”

  Ryan nailed the gas. The cab swung around. He jammed the transmission into first and flew to the street where the Jeep’s taillights had disappeared.

  Chapter 10

  After a left on Bowles, she was at the next stoplight, third car in the lane. Her brake lights blinked on and off as she touched the gas again and again. Ryan pulled up behind her.

  He wanted to shift the truck into neutral, come around and drag her out of the SUV. But traffic would cream him before he got to her. Plus, she’d probably locked her door. He’d reach in and—the light turned. She tore off.

  She drove her Wrangler north on Santa Fe Drive. He stayed on her bumper then glanced at Rebecca. She held Amanda’s papers up to the flying streetlights. She met his gaze.

  His returned to the road.

  “Tell me,” she said.

  No. He focused on the Wrangler’s spare tire cover, a smiley face with stubble and a bandana. Someone had added a custom-stitched brown ponytail. He yanked his hand through his hair. Rebecca deserved to know.

  “Five years ago, Amanda yammered on about her day. Yeah,” He tossed a look Rebecca’s way. “She talked back then, but only to me.” He paused. Not anymore, or ever again. “A high school girl, named Danielle—”

  His arm shot out, blocked Rebecca from sliding forward as he slammed the brakes. He downshifted, managed to decelerate enough to take the right Amanda had made.

  “To put it briefly, Danielle was a bitch, a bitch in high heels. Five years ago, she cornered Amanda. She and her girlfriends were vicious, dealing out low blows with their insults. She finally told me about it. I had to get a tool in her hand, put her on a job before she started talking, but she did.”

  He cranked the steering wheel to follow Amanda’s sharp left.

  “The next morning, Amanda came to me, told me she didn’t mean to, begged me for what she should do. I couldn’t make sense of it when Jim overheard and demanded to know everything. Amanda looked terrible, horror-stricken. Jim took her into his office and closed the door. Before I knew it, he was driving her out of town. He came back with a moving van and told me the shop was mine. I never saw Amanda again. Later that day, I watched a news report about a car crash. Danielle had been on the highway, lost control of her car and slammed into a tree. The crash was fatal.”

  He glanced at Rebecca. She stared. “You’re suggesting . . .”

  “Amanda thinks she killed her.”

  “But you just said she didn’t.”

  “Actually—” Amanda turned right and led them through the darkened side streets in a community of one- and two-story houses, postage stamp backyards surrounded by privacy fences. “I don’t know for sure.”

  “What?”

  “A couple weeks ago, a car like Danielle’s needed a part. Our small parts store had it in stock. Apparently, a shop ordered it five years ago for Danielle’s car right before the wreck. I tried calling Jim. He told me Amanda had forgotten. But it sounds like she never did.”

  Words were held in the truck’s cab. The truth sunk in like an icy anchor in his stomach. She’d lied to him. She’d lied to her father. They were trying to help.

  “Where is she going?” Ryan said, finally, hardly expecting a reply.


  He repeated Amanda’s right turn. They’d returned to a four-lane road framed by independent businesses with expansive parking lots.

  Along a line of streetlights, he glimpsed Amanda. She had a phone up to her ear. She tossed the phone to the passenger seat. The Jeep swerved across the lanes, circled back. She headed right for them. She corrected into the other lane, flew past.

  Ryan hit the brakes, cocked the wheel. His other foot planted to keep him in the seat. He found the gas pedal, returned to riding her bumper.

  After they followed her through a series of turns, Rebecca said, “She’s going back to the dealership.”

  Around the last corner, the Jeep accelerated and sped through the employee parking lot. Amanda jumped out and raced to the front door. She yanked at the handle, but the glass door never budged.

  Ryan pulled up beside her. Truck in neutral, he climbed out, thinking it was like trying to capture a cornered, terrified animal.

  Amanda turned, faced him. She kept her face unreadable as she refused to speak.

  He took a step forward.

  She took a step back, closer to the door.

  The door swung open. A security guard held it as Amanda hurried inside. He closed the door behind her, locked it and kept his firm gaze on Ryan. The name tag read Adam. After a drawn-out moment, the man turned and followed Amanda into the dim interior.

  Minutes passed. Ryan raked his hand through his hair for the third time. Besides the din of traffic in the distance, he heard the sound of a car start, and then, when it drove off, the city’s version of silence reigned again.

  This is great. Let’s review: Amanda never forgot. I’ve told her she’s innocent. But I’m not even sure if it’s true or not. He never learned exactly what she’d done to Danielle’s car. Amanda wouldn’t intentionally kill someone!

  The engine revved in his truck.

  He glanced back. Rebecca held up her cell phone, motioned for him.

  When he reached the door, she said, “It’s the guard on Amanda’s phone.”

  Not quite close enough to decipher words, Ryan could hear a man’s voice in a rough, demanding tone.

  He took the phone, climbed into the cab. The deep voice pounded his eardrum. “What did you do to her?”

  “Where is she? Is she okay?”

  “I don’t know,” he ground out. “She hasn’t said a word to me. She’s in my office curled up in a chair. If you hurt her . . .” His tone was warning enough.

  Ryan dragged a hand over his face. Cruel to be kind wouldn’t be a welcome answer here. He ran the hand through his hair before dropping it to the steering wheel. He gripped it tight. “Can I talk to her?”

  “Huh! What makes you think she’d want to talk to you?”

  Muffled words passed between two voices.

  “Be careful,” Adam advised Ryan, forcefully.

  “Ryan.”

  “Amanda?”

  “Why are you still here?”

  “Because I’m not done talking.”

  “Oh yeah? Are there other parts of my life you kept from me?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “I’ll tell you all of it. Just come down. Please.”

  “So, what? I should trust you? Ryan, you showed up and . . . Ryan, who else could’ve known, would’ve had those photos?”

  “How about the other guy who worked on Danielle’s car?”

  “What?”

  He didn’t answer. It was more than she needed to know and completely out of context but had managed to slip right on out.

  “Ryan, what?”

  He shook his head. “Uh-uh, not a word more until I see you face-to-face.”

  “Ryan, I can’t. I’m so . . . please.”

  The crack in her voice disabled his anger. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I—”

  Adam’s voice cut him off. “She’s done talking to you.”

  “No.” His internal fire flared. “Put her back on.” He was close to snarling.

  “Listen pal, if you don’t leave in ten seconds, you’ll be talking to the cops.”

  Ryan’s hand tightened around the wheel. “Amanda needs me.”

  A cool hand covered his hardened fist. Rebecca’s fingers stretched out over his. His hold loosened. He met her warm, soft-cloud gaze.

  “She’s not going anywhere.” She soothed with her honeyed voice.

  “Not right now she isn’t.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “She has to be somewhere tomorrow afternoon.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Saturday is the family barbecue. If she’s not there and we end up following her . . . well, with both of us gone, that’s two fathers at the barbecue who we don’t want to upset. We all are going to Uncle Jay’s house tomorrow.”

  He searched her gaze. “Are you sure?”

  Without a spoken word, certainty showed in her gray, assuring depths.

  He nodded. “All right.” He turned and glared into the camera. “We’re gone. But if she—”

  “She’s safer here than with you. Now leave her alone.” Click.

  Ryan lowered the phone from his ear. He dropped it into Rebecca’s hand before he finished his thought about hurling it out the window.

  He rubbed the back of his neck while she stowed the phone. The flannel fell away from her foot. “We better get that cleaned,” he said.

  She nodded. “Back at the apartment.”

  Chapter 11

  Ryan shifted the truck into reverse. He gave the camera one last glare before pulling out of the parking lot. This wasn’t over. Tomorrow he’d see to it Amanda knew everything. But for tonight, he should focus on the woman beside him.

  But then, maybe he shouldn’t. He’d help Rebecca with her injured foot, nothing else. If he focused on her, even glanced at her while her eyes rested on him, he knew he’d be lost. There was probably a storm in those eyes. She was probably upset, her lips parted from heavy breathing.

  Amanda. She was why he was on the road right now. His hands twisted on the wheel. He stared at the painted dash marks along the asphalt as oncoming traffic barely registered in his peripheral view. His jaw tensed.

  Their phone conversation had ended about as well as the one before it. A door was slammed shut in his face. But this time, a security guard had threatened him instead of her dad. If I hurt her? Who knew her? Who’d helped her through the hardest parts of her life?

  He didn’t notice the stoplight had turned green until a car horn called him back. Grinding the transmission into first, he lurched through the intersection. The other car flew by him. His brows gathered.

  “Is that really doing any good?” Rebecca’s honeyed voice found him.

  “What?”

  “Your brooding. Is it doing any good?”

  He glanced at her, had to refocus to find her gaze. As he expected, her clear, gray eyes disconcerted him, even with weariness crowding at their corners.

  She looked forward. “I mean, there’s not enough information. We have photographs, and each one of those says a thousand different things. Are you going to go through all of them tonight? This won’t help her.”

  He forced her words into his internal conversation. They had a losing battle before them, until he met her eyes again. His body eased its hardened response. His gaze dropped to her foot. At least he could do some good there.

  He turned right onto Federal, pulled into the parking lot. He reached for his door, heard hers open. “You stay put.”

  She huffed and crossed her arms.

  Her movement led to an involuntary, upward curve to one corner of his mouth. “After all that, now you’re going to be difficult?”

  She dropped her arms and a shy, innocent smile crept out.

  He dove from
the truck before he leaned over and did something physical they’d regret. The night air tasted like cold metal.

  He pulled back her door, leaned forward. His heart lightened when her arm draped around his neck.

  With the truck door shut, he climbed the stairs. Rebecca’s body heat traced her curves where they pressed against his chest and waist. Breathing deep, he took in raspberries then exhaled pent-up frustration. Her hair was loose past the thin headband. She tucked stray light brown tresses behind her ear.

  Her eyes darted, found his. The silver in her eyes swirled with a new heat and softened to cirrus. “What?”

  “This is a good look for you. It’s starting to grow on me.”

  Her cheeks pinked and improved the look even more. She shifted in his arms. He nearly groaned at the friction. Why had he told her he liked having her in his arms?

  She handed him the keys. He focused on getting them into the apartment.

  Slipping off her sandals, loving the softness of her insoles, he dropped the shoes to the floor.

  They reached the bathroom too quickly. He set her down on the rim of the tub. At the sudden emptiness in his arms, he inhaled, tried to fill the absence.

  Once crouched down in front of her, he rested her foot on his knee. The flannel peeled back and showed few blood stains. The wound had clotted shut, but inflammation framed the edges. He reached over and turned on the water in the bath, adjusting the temperature. Satisfied, he grasped her foot cautiously, guided it under the flow. She sucked in a breath.

  His brows gathered, but he kept her foot under the spray, massaged around the area as he flushed out the wound.

  He turned off the faucet, sat next to her on the tub’s rim then placed a towel on his knee before settling her foot there for a final inspection.

  Even though the cut appeared short in length, the glass had pierced deep.

 

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