BlackJack (A Standish Bay Romance Book 1)

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BlackJack (A Standish Bay Romance Book 1) Page 16

by Donovan, Christine


  She blushed and it made her look about sixteen, not that she was probably much older than twenty anyway. Hell, he’d only just turned twenty-five himself.

  “No,” she replied and then she was gone, and he continued standing there staring at her car like an idiot as she exited the parking lot. Why hadn’t he asked her out? She all but told him she was interested. He knew why though? He was out of practice. Way out of practice.

  John spent the rest of the day struggling with his feelings. He had been divorced from Shannon now for two years. There should be no guilt in wanting to date another woman. Just because he hadn’t yet, didn’t mean he couldn’t? Wouldn’t?

  However, up until this point, he’d yet to meet a woman who interested him. Someone who intrigued him to the point he wanted to pursue her. A woman who attracted him in a physical way that sent his libido into overdrive and made him realize how long it had been. Made him yearn for the intimacy two people shared. Shit! Cheryl did it all. Made him want all and believe he could have all.

  He had tried his hardest with Shannon. He had loved her beyond reason at seventeen. Had done right by her and married her when she became pregnant. He loved his son, but unfortunately, their marriage never progressed forward. They’d been too young, but nothing and he meant nothing, would ever make him regret what happened. He had a beautiful seven-year-old son and an ex-wife he still loved as a friend. Yet, there was something missing, the emotional and physical attachment with another human being.

  His fingers absentmindedly toyed with the card. Maybe it was time to move forward in his life. That evening he called her because if he didn’t do it then, he would lose his nerve, never call and always wonder what if? And what ifs were never good.

  They met the following night for dinner and eight months later—they married. That happened nine years ago and she still made him ache for her constantly. His body, heart and soul needed her, loved her.

  “I’m sorry I shut you out.”

  “John...”

  “No, let me finish.” He looked at her, and she was still as pretty as ever. The years had been kind to her. She still looked twenty-three, the age she had been when they met.

  “I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. You are everything to me.” His trembling hand slid gently over her belly. “Our children are my life. And I know you love Cameron, even though he’s not biologically your son, and you’re hurting and frightened for him as well.” John paused to sniff and wipe the moisture from his eyes.

  “I shouldn’t have shut you out, but I had to be alone. To think...hell,” he snorted, “I wanted to sink into the dark underground of blame and shame knowing he ran away because of me.”

  “Oh honey,” Cheryl said as she placed her soft, warm hand on his cheek.

  “I’m okay now. I’m ready to go downstairs, join the world and fight for Cameron.” He squeezed Cheryl as tight as her expanding belly allowed. “Fight for all our children. I’ll never let you down again. Or shut you out. I promise.”

  After John spent the day with his wife and three small children, he drove to Shannon’s house, ready to face the consequences for everything that happened. He was ready to face Shannon and apologize for his behavior of late. But before he left, his son, Matt needed to go number two, and for some reason he always wanted his dad to wipe him. Matt said Mom was a girl and boys went to the bathroom with boys.

  As John stood outside the bathroom waiting for the words, “I’m done,” from his son, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. Damn he was asleep on his feet. The first stop, once he left his house, would be Dunkin Donuts for a large black hazelnut coffee.

  John stood, and stood, and stood, waiting for Matt who could take ten minutes or longer at times to go. Today, however, John had neither the patience nor the time and he barged through the door. His feet froze in place as he looked at his son. John didn’t know whether to laugh or whether to yell at him.

  There was his son sitting on the toilet seat, his pants down around his ankles, totally oblivious to John’s presence as he plunged his face with the red rubber toilet plunger.

  “Matt,” John yelled, struggling to stay in control.

  Matt dropped the plunger and John swallowed a laugh. A bright red circle outlined his son’s face from where the plunger had obviously sucked on it for quite some time.

  John fought disgust and laughter at the same time. It had to be the most disgusting thing John could think of to put on your face. Christ, didn’t Matt know what they used it for? After John scrubbed his face three times with anti-bacterial soap, he left his noisy house and was now alone in his car driving down Route 139 toward Brant Rock, laughing his ass off so hard his eyes watered. Matt was a nut. What the hell would possess someone to plunge his face?

  God, it was disgusting when you thought about where the plunger had been. But putting all grown up thoughts aside, to an almost three-year-old, it probably looked like a fun way to kill time while he waited for his shit to come out. Well, no more toilet plungers inside the bathroom. Matt needed toys to play with to occupy his toilet time, or a book. Yeah, a book would be good. Anything would be better than a plunger. What a story to tell Matt when he grew older, and they both could have a good laugh. John could also bribe him, but good, with threats of divulging the details to his friends, or worse, a girlfriend. John laughed again, wondering if Matt would ever remember doing it.

  A short time later he pulled up to Shannon’s house, turned off his ignition and counted the cars in her driveway. Shit! The whole Gallagher family appeared present and accounted for. Just what he needed, the ex-in-laws giving him the evil eye and judging him.

  The Gallagher’s wove a tight group. One he had been part of once. He’d never had any complaints about his in-laws, they were great. They had always been good to him, but because of his own insecurities about knocking up their teenage daughter, he’d never felt comfortable around them. He knew he probably read things into it that didn’t exist. He also knew there would be no evil eyes or accusations, but he just couldn’t help feeling like he deserved them.

  His heart hammered around inside his chest as he waited for his knock to be answered. It was finally by Mitch, who immediately let him in and shook his hand.

  “Where’s Shannon?” John asked nervously as he listened for voices.

  “Asleep in her room. She hasn’t slept in days, and it finally caught up with her.”

  “Is everyone here?” As if he needed to ask.

  “Yeah,” answered a solemn Mitch.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shannon wasn’t really asleep, although her eyes were closed and her body relaxed from sheer exhaustion. The ache in her heart kept her awake. All sorts of scenarios kept playing in her head and they were all bad. There were times she damned her creative mind because the things she conjured up were far-fetched and not realistic.

  While she continued driving herself crazy with her imagination, she welcomed the interruption of the phone ringing. It was her detective friend, Scott, she’d hired to find Cameron, and he had a lead. Someone with Cameron’s description had bought a bus ticket, but the older gentleman who sold him the ticket couldn’t remember if he bought a ticket to California or Chicago. Scott would dig deeper and he told her not to lose hope. He would find him.

  Before he hung up, she confided in him about her incident in Chicago and asked if he would please look into that and Cole’s case as soon as Cameron was found? He agreed, although it didn’t make her feel any less burdened right now.

  Unfortunately, Shannon knew it wasn’t easy to find runaways if they didn’t want to be found. So she prayed Cameron would want to be found once he had time to calm down and think sensibly. Being on your own at sixteen was not only lonely, it was scary. And thank God he’d taken his guitar. He would be all the easier to trace because of it.

  When she heard John’s voice inside her house, she tensed and then realized how hard this must be for him as well. And she tried her harde
st not to blame him or resent him because of the circumstances. Deep down in the bottom of her heart she knew John would never intentionally cause harm to their son.

  The past two days she’d fought an overwhelming urge to call Cole. She needed to hear his voice and let the sound of it engulf her and soothe her, but instead she played his music and thought of him. She must have dosed off because the rain stopped, the wind no longer howled and she could make out moonbeams shining through the breaks in the clouds. The BlackJack CD had also ended. All was quiet, too quiet and it pricked her nerves how silent her house appeared to be.

  Had everyone left?

  Did they all fall asleep?

  Shannon dressed and descended the stairs to find Mitch and John, sitting side by side on the couch watching television. Darkness had swallowed the house except for the glow from the fireplace and the light from the television.

  “Hi. Did everyone leave?”

  Mitch and John looked at her at the same time, both looking weary as hell and showing every bit of their ages. It was amazing what stress and worry could do to people. And she could only imagine how badly she looked right about now.

  It was Mitch who finally answered her.

  “Yeah, they left.” Mitch went to get up. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Sit. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” She poured a glass of juice and curled up in the oversized chair with a blanket, then looked speculatively at John. “Shouldn’t you be home?”

  John looked at her and shrugged his large shoulders. “Yeah, but if you don’t mind me crashing in Cameron’s room, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Cheryl won’t mind?”

  “She’d rather I stay here than crack up the car.”

  John unfolded himself off the couch and walked to the patio doors, his head and shoulders hunched down. “What are we going to do?”

  The way John said it grated on Shannon’s nerves, and all the pain and heartache he caused her lately bubbled up to the surface. She didn’t even try to hold it down, she let loose.

  “We? What do you mean we? You spent two days locked in a bedroom sulking like a baby because your son hates you so much he ran away.”

  By this point both John and Mitch stared at her, their mouths open in shock, their eyes wide in disbelief.

  Shannon now sat, perched on the edge of the chair, her back ramrod straight, and her eyes nearly black with anger. “I’m trying to feel sorry for you, John. But I’m having a difficult time with it considering the circumstances leading up to this. When you barged in here that day, did you ever take in anyone’s feelings but your own?” She jumped up to her feet. She rarely lost her temper and it felt extremely good to lash out at John, even though, in the back of her mind she knew she would regret it later and owe him an apology. But for now, she’d let him have it.

  “Did you ever think for one second your son might care for Cole, and that you were hurting him and not just me and Cole?”

  “Shannon I...” John tried interrupting, suddenly looking pale and uncomfortable.

  “Let me finish.” Her eyes darted from John to her brother who also looked uncomfortable. “If you’re worried I’ll embarrass you in front of Mitch, don’t be. I already told him everything.”

  John groaned, looking even worse if that were possible.

  “Cameron saw me happy with Cole and he was glad for me. He could see what most people like you can’t, he saw another human being. Cameron saw a person with flaws like everybody else, but a man with strong convictions and strong morals. Cole has a genuine kindness inside him, and he shares it with anyone willing to give him the time of day. He’s also highly talented, intelligent and extremely shy and embarrassed about his past. Embarrassed about the truth as well as the untruth, he has one hell of a conscience.”

  Shannon paused to catch her breath. Her heart pounded ferociously and her whole body trembled. “Did you know his wife cheated on him for years, and he never once broke his marriage vows?”

  John and Mitch both continued to stare at her, words lost to both of them as they let her vent.

  “That’s why he drank. He was humiliated. But you know what? He has more love and compassion and goodness in his heart than anyone I know. I also know we’re not here to discuss him, but I wanted you to understand how much he means to Cameron—” She stopped and her hand flew to her mouth as she struggled to keep the sob from escaping. “How much he means to me.” Her eyes suddenly flared. “And how could you break your son’s favorite guitar? I gave it to him for his thirteenth birthday. You had no right—”

  ***

  She collapsed on the chair, buried her face in her hands and cried. Mitch approached her, but John waved him off. This was his doing, his fault and his problem. He hunkered down in front of her and swallowed his pride. He’d been a jerk and he shouldn’t have interfered, but he had been frightened. Frightened of losing Shannon and losing his son to a man who could open doors and give him the world, the world of his dreams, and the world of music. Something he could never do and it burned inside him, eating away at him, and he wasn’t proud of it. He wasn’t proud of his thoughts of jealousy and hatred toward another human being.

  Yes, damn it, he was jealous and he behaved spitefully and no one would ever know how sorry he was for it. He’d made a huge mess of everything and because of what? His male ego and pride felt bruised? He would have to share Shannon and Cameron with another man? He had behaved selfishly and childishly and it was time to correct it. He took a deep cleansing breath and forged on.

  “Shannon. I’m sorry. Sorry for everything.”

  She lifted her face and wiped her runny nose with her sweatshirt sleeve, and it nearly made John smile. He took her hands in his and looked her in the eyes, her stunning blue eyes, filled with moist teardrops waiting their turn to fall down her beautiful face. How could he have intentionally hurt her? His heart split in two for her, for him and for their son.

  “You’re right. I was an asshole. Not fit to wipe the dirt from the soles of your boots. I regret everything. I was jealous, afraid and...hell...just really stupid,” he groaned. “It’s your life. I shouldn’t have interfered.” He cleared his throat. “Now, can I repeat my question from earlier without you jumping down my throat?”

  That brought the tiniest smile to her lips. “Sure.”

  John let go of her hands and sat back on his heels. “What are we going to do?”

  ***

  Shannon closed her eyes for a moment to bury the problems of the past several weeks with John. And when she opened them up she once again thought of him as her best friend since their days in school.

  “I hired Scott Danvers. He’s a private detective I’ve worked with in the past. He’s tracking down Cameron as we speak.” She proceeded to tell John and Mitch what she learned earlier in the evening from Scott. “I didn’t make the connection until now, but Cole lives in Malibu. Cameron knows that. Do you think?”

  “Maybe, it’s worth a shot,” John said as he stood up and stretched. “Will you call him?” he asked hopefully.

  “What time is it?” she queried.

  Mitch looked at his watch and replied. “It’s almost midnight.”

  Shannon picked up the handset to the house phone and dialed Cole’s cell phone number. The phone rang until his voice mail message came on. The sound of his voice had hers nearly faulting.

  “Hi. It’s me, Shannon. I need to talk to you. When you get this message, I don’t care what time it is, call me.”

  She pushed the off button and glanced at John, her body more weary than ever. She needed sleep to re-energize and think clearly. She opened her mouth to speak and had to force the words out, “What now?”

  “We get some rest and call the detective friend of yours in the morning.” John kissed Shannon quickly on the forehead and bid her and Mitch goodnight.

  ***

  Cole’s long fingers gripped the armrest on his seat like a vise as the plane rocked from some of the worst turbu
lence he had ever experienced. At one point the plane had taken a sudden nosedive. It lasted probably only a few seconds, but to anyone on the plane it seemed like an eternity.

  Would they crash?

  Die?

  Survive?

  It went through his mind and he was quite sure it went through everyone else’s on that plane bound for LAX. First class had been full, so Cole sat in coach and he could hear the screams of the children. It tore his heart out at how terrified they must be as the drinks and peanut packages flew through the air.

  He himself had just ordered a coke and it had landed in his lap. The flight attendant, a male, probably somewhere in his late twenties, had landed in the lap of the woman across the aisle from him. Now the flight attendant was safely buckled in his pull down seat. Cole peered through first class and stared at the locked cockpit door wondering what was going on up there.

  Cole was not afraid to fly, nor was he afraid to die. It was just he had unfinished business and now would not be the most convenient of all times to die. Just then the captain addressed them over the plane’s intercom.

  “This is Captain Gauthier, we’re experiencing extreme turbulence and for the time being no one is allowed out of their seats. Please observe the seat belt sign. I’m sorry for the recent sudden decent. I don’t anticipate it happening again. If anyone needs assistance please let your flight attendant know. Please try to relax and enjoy the rest of your flight.”

  Enjoy. Was he kidding? There wasn’t a single soul on this plane who would relax or breathe easy until they landed safely, including himself.

  The turbulence didn’t let up, in fact, Cole thought it might be getting worse, and he wanted to do something, anything to ease the fear plastered on the passenger’s faces. He glanced up to the overhead compartment holding his guitar. If he could get it, he could play and maybe he could take some people’s minds off the rattling and banging of the plane.

  Cole looked toward the flight attendant. “Excuse me, do you think I could play my guitar. It might help calm some of the passengers.”

 

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