Head Over Wheels (Spicy Young Romance)

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Head Over Wheels (Spicy Young Romance) Page 33

by January Valentine


  The Briar Ridge house was another mansion, the backyard overlooking a golf course. It was white, had all kinds of angles and peaks, resembling a fortress surrounded by hedges and wrought iron fences. We parked in the circular driveway edged by rows of plants and shrubbery. The grounds were a horticulturist's haven: lush lawns wrapping walkways, creeping past fountains, leading to a conservatory.

  Indigo parked the Wrangler, and the Escalade crawled to a stop at our bumper. Derek and Yvonne bounded from the car. Derek was yelling, "Let's get this shit rollin', people. I'm about to be famous.” He started dancing around the driveway.

  Yvonne rolled her eyes, but her smile was huge. Running to catch him, she pulled him to her side, laughing. "He’s been driving me crazy all the way home."

  I was happy for their company, the fortification, not wanting to face the looming place before us, one on one. I motioned for Emma and Bill to join us. When they didn't move from the back seat, I tapped on the window, coaxing, "Come on, Em."

  She shook her head, and Bill put his face in front of hers. "We'll sit this one out, Jewel."

  My eyes went from his to Emma's. I angled my head. "But ..."

  "We have things to talk about." Bill grinned.

  "Wedding plans to make." Emma's voice was muffled behind him. "Don't worry. We'll be here when you get back."

  She didn't realize that was not what I was worried about. They looked so cute and cuddly in the back seat. I sighed, assuming remaining in the car was Bill's way of sparing himself and Emma the misery that lurked inside the lovely home.

  "Let's go, babe," Indigo said, pulling me from Emma's eyes, "before Derek breaks the door down."

  Indigo's fingers wrapped mine protectively when Elizabeth opened the door, her face forming its usual pinch. Without mincing words, Derek was led upstairs and without invitation, Yvonne automatically followed him, leaving Indigo and me standing in the foyer.

  "Hey," I said, "your house is beautiful."

  His lips twitched into a grimace. "Come on, I'll show you around." Softening, he kissed the top of my every finger that was joined with his, then taking both of my hands, he towed me behind him.

  The place was immaculate and silent, like a museum, with statues on pedestals, gold-framed pictures, vases filled with floral arrangements. The soles of our shoes squeaked upon marble floors merging with crimson carpeting. The vaulted ceilings were high, and when I lifted my gaze, I realized the forest we'd just left seemed to offer more comfort.

  "So that's the end of the tour ... and here's my room." Indigo led me to his bed and kissed my forehead. I knew he was trying to appear upbeat, but one look at the strain on his face told me he was putting on one of the biggest acts of his life.

  With a king sized bed and gleaming dark furniture, the room reminded me of his apartment bedroom, but not half as warm. It looked like a showroom, rather than a place one would use for relaxation and a good night's rest.

  "I'm gonna hop in the shower." His eyes tested mine. "I won't be long, okay?"

  "Sure ... I'll be fine." I smiled and pulled his face close. "You okay?"

  "I'll be better when we're out of here." He lifted a brow, then rolled his eyes. "I'll be right in there if you need me." He motioned to the half open door of the adjacent bathroom. "Or ... if you want to join me." He didn't pull his grin off very well.

  "I bet that would go over big." I smirked and waved as he closed the door behind him. While I waited, I sat at his desk, flipping through his medical books. As promised, he returned in a few minutes, wrapped in a towel. I watched him dress, then held out one of his books, quizzing him on the photographs of different diseases that had shocked me. I decided being a doctor might not be all it was cracked up to be. It had to take a strong stomach, and dedication. I knew Indigo had both.

  In less than an hour we were joined by Derek and Yvonne, who happily departed the premises to head for home immediately upon dismissal. I imagined things had gone well. As they whisked by, Yvonne said she'd call to fill me in on everything. We were all bone tired and couldn't wait to get home. In a sense, Indigo was home, but he didn't look very comfortable.

  The aroma of cooking wafted from the kitchen, and Indigo led me into the dining room, where I hesitated. "I wasn't planning on dinner ... here."

  "If you're not hungry, it's okay. We'll say a quick goodbye and take off. Grab a seat." Boy, had his mood changed.

  An upholstered barrel chair was positioned on either side of the polished table, a high back chair at each end. It was a no brainer. I chose a decorative barrel chair and started my mental countdown, more than ready to leave that morgue and get back to his apartment.

  Sitting across from Indigo was difficult. Not being able to touch him was even harder. My nipples had been sucked raw, and now my emotions. My breasts throbbed against the soft fabric of my bra, a constant reminder of the weekend we'd spent in each other's arms. I'd been loved so intensely, my body still ached with pleasure, and I wanted to share my joy. My legs were much of my height. Extending a foot, I stretched beneath the table, nudging his shoe, offering a smile.

  Then Vanessa paraded into the room, her hair twisted and coiled, decorated with sparkling ornaments somewhat matching her foil-like shift dress. I was all for fashion, but she looked extraterrestrial. Her pale face, plastered with makeup, added to her eeriness, her alien attire.

  Four additional barrel chairs were lined against the wall. She gripped the back of one, slid it across the floor, and of course, pulled it up beside Indigo. Hands resting on the back, she announced, "I'm introducing the show, and your mother. This is my outfit." Her face curled into a question mark. When we didn't reply, she said, "Well, what do you think?"

  I stared in disbelief, certain I was hallucinating: I think you're all insane sprinted across my brain.

  Indigo gave her a quick once-over, his face displaying the first sign of humor I'd witnessed since walking in the front door. "That's one hell of an outfit, Vanessa. What did she have to do to get you to agree to it?"

  Her confusion sprang into a gloat when she said, "Your dad has fantastic news."

  My stomach clenched. What was she up to now?

  "What news?" Indigo's brows pulled together. His fingers drummed the table.

  The atmosphere was so unfriendly, bordering sardonic. I wondered if things had always been this severe, and how the hell he could have taken it all of these years. His parents' muffled voices emanating from the next room shattered my analysis. Elizabeth's face was actually crushed by a small smile as she and her husband entered, side by side.

  The dining room was large and echoed. Sapphire draperies drizzling from the half dozen windows failed to insulate the tension. His father stood at the head of the long oak table, directing everyone's attention to me. "I understand you're a friend of James's. I'm his father, Henry Ballou, and I'm an alcoholic." His face was as bland as my brain as he spoke.

  Lord, was this man about to cleanse his soul right before our eyes? Indigo hadn't mentioned his father had joined AA. I assumed he wanted to afford the solemn man privacy. His father looked somewhat emaciated, but his facial characteristics were downright handsome. I realized Indigo, who appeared as shocked as I felt, shared his father's features, but nothing more.

  "I'm making good on my promises." His father's eyes moved from Indigo to Elizabeth, even touching upon Vanessa. What the hell? What promises? Was he about to say he was going to be a better father? Go back to practicing medicine? Something was making Elizabeth's face crinkle, and we were about to discover what it was. "And the first is for you, James."

  I couldn't keep swallowing. My mouth was already too dry.

  "In Daniel's name, you'll be taking your residency in Paraguay. You'll be working with children, as you've wanted to since ..." he held his voice steady, "since Daniel's passing."

  My heart flipped. My mouth dropped. My stomach rolled into a ball. Were my ears deceiving me? Or was Indigo? I stared into the panic gripping his eyes. Mine began to tear and plea
d with him: "What? Why? Why didn't you tell me you were going away?"

  At the mention of Daniel, Elizabeth's expression drooped like modeling clay under a blowtorch. I stared at her face, my gaze dropping to her wrists. Indigo had said, after Danny's death, he had found her in a pool of blood, holding a knife. But her wrists weren't scarred. Then it hit me. I focused on her neck, the brightly colored scarves she always wore, realizing what they were concealing. Dear God. She had tried to slit her own throat.

  While everything around me blurred, Henry continued with his heartrending speech. Fingers twisted in damp palms, I hid my trembling hands beneath the table. I wanted to cover my face, to scream out to Indigo, for someone to tell me it was all a dream – a bad dream – the worst nightmare of my life. But no one did, and Indigo could barely look at me.

  "And Vanessa. On behalf of your father, my close friend Jon, while James is practicing medicine, you'll be writing for the Paraguayan English news. I know you've always wanted to be a journalist. You two practically grew up together ... now you'll be studying together." He was breaking my heart – why was he smiling with pride?

  I caught Vanessa's complacent stare. She had known all about this. I wanted to choke. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to jump over the table and strangle her.

  "I pulled some strings," Henry was saying, winking as he blew my life to shreds.

  Gathered with the family, I forced myself to stay in my seat, while with bowed heads, the Serenity Prayer was recited. While my body froze, my mind stuttered, wondering if any of the fanfare would do more than part Indigo and me, possibly bring the family together. Once more, I felt like I was hallucinating, or that I had slipped in to a comatose state, and without knowing, I was suffering in purgatory.

  While the maid served the meal, I excused myself and hurried to the bathroom. My bag was still in the Wrangler, but my cell phone was in my pocket. After dabbing away every single trace of tears, I dialed Pete and gave him the address. "Come and get me, Pete," I held back a sob, "I need to get home – fast."

  Pete didn't question or argue. I heard his phone disconnect and before thirty minutes had expired, the Harley roared into the driveway, sounding as mad as I knew Pete would be when he learned what had transpired.

  Although I hadn't eaten a bite, I thanked Indigo's parents for the meal and left the table, my parting words, "I have an early day tomorrow. It's been a lovely visit." Attempting to appear unscathed, I did everything but curtsy.

  Indigo was standing beside me, saying he'd walk me to the door. Each time his fingers crept around mine, I shook free. He didn't seem to realize the "Goodbye," I said was for good. There was no place for me inside those walls, or in his arms.

  I felt sorrow for him. I felt love for him. He was the pillar of strength, at the same time, the whipping post for dysfunctional parents. But there was nothing I could do. The roots ran too deep. I was torn in two: I couldn't leave him like that, but I also couldn't stay.

  We stood in the foyer, where the tables of tradition were reversed. I was the hero rescuing the damsel in distress. "Jimmy," I pleaded with my eyes, "don't stay here. Come home with me. Stay the night," I whispered, thinking: I'll make you forget. Make me forget.

  I was screaming for the crash cart. Stay with me. Stay with me. He was dying and I was crying out for him to remain conscious.

  "They're draining your resources, baby. I can understand your loyalty to your family, but Vanessa, she's like an incurable disease." I fought to keep my voice low, attempting to chip away at his reserve, but he was unresponsive. Hands stuffed into his pockets, he stared at the floor.

  "Why didn't you tell me about your plans?" My voice hit a pitch. My jaw clenched so tight, any more pressure might have cracked my teeth.

  Finally facing me, Indigo brought his hands to his head, ran his fingers through his hair before they locked. With elbows jutting from either side, he looked like he was under arrest.

  Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! I wanted to scream at him, pound his chest with my fists but instead braced them against my temples, trying to erase all memory of the night, the day, Vanessa, Indigo, Paraguay.

  His arms fell to his sides, his eyes the palest blue and watery. "I didn't mean for this to happen, Jewel. I was planning on going away, but that was before I met you. I should have told you, but we had so much going on ... I never meant to hurt you."

  "Famous last words," I scoffed.

  He reached for me, but I shook free of his intention.

  "So, I was a pass time till you left the country?" Hands on hips, my eyes narrowed.

  "No, Jewel, it was nothing like that."

  "Everyone knew your plans but me. How do you think that makes me feel?" Grunting, I shook my head. "You should have told me. Leveled the playing field."

  "I wasn't playing ... after I met you I struggled with the decision ... but I knew I could never leave you."

  "The times we were together. When I was falling in love with you, leaving was on your mind ... and I was a fool."

  "You weren't," he rasped. "Christ. I feel like I'm fighting a war."

  "And I feel like I'm losing it ... the war ... and my mind."

  "I'm sorry you had to find out this way," he cradled his head with his hands, "I'm sorry about everything."

  "So am I." I stared at him so hard my eyes burned.

  "I'm sorry ..."

  "That you're a liar?"

  He looked like he'd rather have been hit with a brick than hear those words spill from my lips. My hardest punch wouldn't have hurt him half as much as he'd hurt me.

  The Harley let out a roar. Indigo opened the door a crack, lifting a hand to Pete who sat on his idling bike. "Can we please talk tomorrow?" He sighed. "I can't leave them now." His gaze took mine to the room from which I'd practically bolted. He sounded broken when he said, "Don't look at me that way."

  "Like what? Like I don't know who the fuck you are?" I sucked in a breath. " How should I look at you, Indigo? With love?" I tried to stop my voice from cracking. "Okay, so love me and leave with me ... right now."

  His eyes deepened, the gray turning to steel. "They've lost one son ... I can't just walk out on them. Regardless of who they are ... what they are ..."

  "So, you're gonna be their permanent on call?" When he flinched, I knew I had struck a nerve.

  "Don't make me make choose, Jewel. Please try to understand. He's just getting on his feet. I can't tell him I'm not going. Not just yet. It was his dream, too."

  “Too? Oh, God. So now I’m standing in the way of everyone’s dream?” I tossed my hands into the air, bombarded by almost every negative D word in the dictionary: deception, degrading, desperation, disaster, demolished ... demonic.

  Like sunshine, a few words broke through my rage: delightful, delicious, desire ... but were instantly overcome by destiny, disheartened, doomed ... done.

  "I can't rock the boat." His grim face kept talking, while I had trouble comprehending. His eyes were fixed; his jaw was set; he didn't even look alive. "But I want you to know, my feelings for you haven't changed, and I'm not going anywhere. I just need time to sort things out." Why was he still talking? I wanted to cover my ears and scream. The jerk of his head, pointing to the dining room, dragged me further into hell. "I'll call you," he was still talking, rambling like a broken recording warning of imminent death in World War Three. "I'll call you," the mechanical stranger kept insisting.

  "Haven't I heard that one before?" I sounded so cold, I shivered.

  Indigo kept proclaiming his love, repeating, "I'm sorry," his eyes filled with remorse, his voice filled with hopelessness as if he didn't even believe his own spiel.

  It was too sad to watch, too painful. I longed to close my eyes and simply walk away, disinterested or deaf – two more appropriate D words – choosing whichever would have eased my agony most.

  I was angry as hell, but I wasn't heartless, and I had to make the biggest sacrifice of my life. "It's okay." My voice was stiff as I stroked his cheek, running my fingertip
s through his hair for the last time. "Adios captain, go take command of your vessel and sail." I caught a sob before it could do any damage.

  "Jewel," he called after me, following me onto the porch. I knew he was desperate.

  Pete hopped off his bike, arms crossed, he took his stance.

  Indigo let out a snort and shook his head. "I'm not fighting Pete." The door stood wide open, yet not welcoming. Before retreating inside, Indigo mumbled, "I'll call you later," in such a defeated tone, a chill swept over me.

  In the corner of my eye, Vanessa's shadow flickered. I had a feeling she'd been listening to our entire conversation. Moments later she appeared in the foyer, smug, pink lips forming her sick little smile, her voice loud enough for me to hear. "Jim Jim. Dessert is being served."

  Did she literally have no heart?

  I watched Pete retrieve my gear from the Wrangler, strap it on his bike. I donned the helmet he'd brought for me, and hopped on behind him. Once Indigo closed the door, I didn't feel his eyes on me again, but I did hear him scream louder than I'd imagined possible: "Get the fuck out of my face, Vanessa!"

  On the ride home, a flood of tears covered the back of Pete's jacket. He escorted me into the apartment, to my room where I dumped my belongings, and my soul. "Oh Pete." I snuggled against his chest, my chin burrowed beneath his neck. A bristle of beard grazed my forehead, then came his tears.

  "Jewel, I don't get these guys. You're the most wonderful ..."

  I sobbed harder.

  "You know, if things were different ... if I didn't love Casey, I'd never leave you."

  "I know, Pete. But you'll never leave me anyway, right?" My sore eyes strained into his.

  "Never." His arms closed around me.

  Emma slept at Bill's place that night, and Pete stayed with me. We snuggled on the sofa, just like old times, only this time he kept patting his chest, his voice so gentle, saying, "Let it out right here." I cried half the night.

 

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