Forgive & Regret

by Kaitlyn Cross

  Forgive & Regret

  by

  Kaitlyn Cross

  Copyright © 2015 by Kaitlyn Cross

  Cover design by Melody Pond

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Flashing lights and ringing bells followed Stella past the smoky rows of one-armed bandits and blackjack tables, alerting everyone to her crimes against humanity. In hindsight, that third martini might not have been the best idea in the world. She rounded a sharp corner and slammed into a man using a busy Hawaiian shirt to hide his beer gut. Stella jumped back, narrowly missing the golden glob of suds erupting from his plastic cup.

  “Scuse me, mam,” he said sheepishly, holding the dripping beer out.

  She shot him a look that could kill and quickly regained her martini-fueled pace. “Asshole,” she grumbled under her breath, making a pact right then and there that if anyone else got in her way, she would knock their asses over like bowling pins. Four inch heels planted into the confetti carpeting stretching longer with every step she took, blonde hair bouncing like those women in a Revlon commercial, shining beneath the casino lights. She held her breath as she passed through a pocket of cigarette smoke hanging heavy in the air, eyes stinging. The urge to look over her shoulder grew but she focused on her footing instead, zigzagging between patrons like a running back.

  Todd wasn’t coming anyway. As far as he knew, she was just powdering her nose before they went up to his room on the top floor to take care of the problem hiding inside his dark jeans – a problem that would, most likely, take all night to solve. Stella released a pent-up breath when the glass doors finally appeared in the distance. She mapped out her escape route ahead of time to prevent getting lost in the sprawling parking lot, which was definitely not part of the plan. Without slowing, she burst through the doors and spilled outside, drawing in a deep breath of nighttime air that cooled her burning lungs. Marlboros and Camels clung to her clothing as she power walked across the brightly lit lot, feet begging for a break. She should have worn more comfortable shoes but these shoes were magic. No man could resist them.

  Rule number two: Always have a pair of red high heels in the closet – unless of course, you like paying for your own drinks.

  Todd’s wallet felt like a brick in her leather purse, weighing her down almost as much as her buzzing head. She couldn’t wait to see what was inside. It was like Christmas in April. Someone shouted behind her, spiking her adrenaline. She walked faster, the driving wind slowing her pace. Her feet felt like they were going to explode and when she couldn’t stand it another second, she broke rule number one and looked over her shoulder. Exhaling slow and low, she watched an elderly couple argue over where they’d parked.

  Stella turned back around and smiled, pressing the unlock button on the fob in her hand, never happier to see her car wink its lights at her. After climbing inside the Chevy Volt her father sprang for on her birthday last year, she shut the door and locked it. Her rapid breaths mixed with the quiet ringing in her ears, her worldly possessions blocking most of her view. She slipped the keys in the ignition and was about to turn them when her cell phone vibrated in her purse. Heart racing, she couldn’t shake the strange feeling it was Todd calling even though she never gave him her number. Her sweaty fingers dipped inside her bag and retrieved the phone like it might be poisonous.

  The avatar of Hank’s smiling face brought the guilt rushing back in a flood, pressing against her undulating lungs. She promised her father she would change and here she was right back at it again.

  Caught in the act.

  “Sorry Daddy,” she whispered, dropping the cell into a cup holder and fishing the leather wallet from her purse. Aside from her twin brother, Jase, Stella’s father was the only one awaiting her unfortunate return home after failing out of school. She hadn’t spoken to her high school friends much since leaving for college and the thought of running into them again made her cringe. She hated the way they looked at her, and couldn’t understand how Jase and her father did it.

  A mournful sigh pushed past her lips as she ran a thumb across the soft leather like it was a genie bottle, wishing for the best. “Let’s see what you got for me, Todd.” Holding her breath, she cracked it open, heart rate accelerating when she saw the green. Todd came to play tonight, baby! Her thumb flipped through the bills, lips mouthing the climbing tally. “Two hundred and nineteen dollars. Thank you, Todd.” Turning, she tucked the wad of cash into her purse. A violent knock on the window made her scream so loud that Todd fell back into the car parked next to Stella’s. He threw his hands out, dark spiky hair unfazed by the strong winds sweeping across the open lot. “Where’s my wallet?” he cried, face gnarled with rage.

  “My dad just went to the emergency room,” she shouted through the closed window, starting the car and purposely leaving the lights off so he wouldn’t get a good look at her plates. “Heart attack,” she added for good measure, shifting into reverse.

  “I see it right there, Sabrina!” Todd pointed to the wallet on the seat next to her, hanging onto the door handle as she backed out of the spot. “Stop the car or I’ll call the cops!” He raised his cell phone to prove he was not playing around.

  Stella slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a jerky stop and shaking him from the door. They stared at each other under the buzzing lights, heart pounding in her chest. Stella called his bluff and shifted into drive. Todd yanked on the locked door, screaming obscenities that would make some girls blush.

  But not Stella.

  Stella just smiled and hit the gas. “Call you soon!”

  Todd ran alongside, trying to yank the door off its hinges. “You fucking bitch!”

  A little more gas made him trip over his own two feet and, before catapulting to the concrete face first, he let go and skidded to a stop. She rolled her window down and threw his wallet out while zipping through the brightly lit row of cars, trucks and RVs.

  Melting back onto Highway 49, Stella exhaled a relieved sigh.

  “Thanks for dinner, Todd,” she muttered, following the headlights snaking through a never-ending swath of tall pines and oaks. The lit up oasis in the middle of nowhere faded to a yellow dot in the rearview mirror, fueling the adrenaline rush making her grin. She turned back to the road and laughed, glancing at the cash in her open purse. “One born every minute.”

  Chapter Two

  The Morning Dove Inn wasn’t nearly as nice as The Diamond Mine, but it was cheaper – a lot cheaper. From the old-fashioned TV to the stained carpeting that smelled like wet dog, you get what you pay for jumped out at Stella from all sides of the tiny room. But most importantly, the cheapness was evident in her pocketbook. Forty-nine dollars was a steal, one she didn’t have to bat a single lash to get. She pulled on the only window but it wouldn’t budge. To make matters worse, the air conditioner merely clicked when she turned it on.

  “Fantastic,” she muttered, kicking her heels off and back-flopping onto the bed with an exhausted breath bursting from her glossy lips. It was the back half of April and unseasonably warm, the drive here beautiful in parts with yellow tulips and pink trees waving at her from the side of the road. She barely noticed.

  When her dad didn’t answer his phone she left a message, wondering how pissed he really was. She texted her brother next and then turned on the room’s dusty TV. The scratchy blankets didn’t stop her from curling up and watching
Titanic on a grainy version of TBS. She felt like she was on the mighty vessel with them, trying to swim away before it pulled her under. One thing was for sure, her freedom was about to meet its untimely demise. Hank’s pool would be nice this summer, but his rules…not so much. She liked her rules just fine.

  Hank would be happy to see his little girl but there would be no balloons and banners celebrating her homecoming tomorrow night. Stella cost him a lot of time and money but mostly she cost him his pride, pride in a daughter who should be graduating this summer like normal people her age. Sadly, she still needed to complete three more semesters and it broke his big, soft heart. Thanks to Professor Sherman – that little fucking prick – the gig was up. With her grades already slipping, it was easy to cozy up to the handsome Prof in order to raise the bar. At first it all went so well. She fucked him and, in turn, he showered her with A’s and a few B’s to make it look good. Then, after a few brave and careless afternoons in his office (on his desk), a faculty member put the pieces together and confronted Sherman with the facts. In a panic, the good professor dropped Stella like a bad habit and promptly began failing her to make it appear everything on his end was on the up and up, while Stella’s end was on the down and down.

  She shook her head, staring blankly at the fuzzy motel TV. After that, she had no choice but to fight fire with fire, and immediately contacted his fiancé and the school’s Board of Trustees. And when Professor Sherman angrily came knocking to collect the diamond necklace Stella borrowed from his fiancé for a fun weekend in Chicago with him over Christmas break, she laughed in his face and threatened to call the police if he didn’t leave. Her grades continued to nosedive and, soon after, Hank pulled the ripcord.

  Restless, Stella turned off the TV and retrieved a folded sheet of paper from her black bag, as if studying it in complete silence might reveal something she’d missed the first hundred times before. Under the dim nightstand light, her eyes slid to the bottom line, stomach twisting into painful knots just like before. According to the official school document, Stella Talvert cost her father a lot of money, and no matter how many tables she waited at his greasy spoon, she would never be able to pay him back. She sighed and refolded the hateful document, attempting to redirect her thoughts elsewhere and failing miserably. Leaning back against the wooden headboard and closing her eyes, she longed to wake up back in her cute apartment with her pretty roommates. She would do things differently if she could escape this nightmare. All of it. This time around she would actually study. This time she wouldn’t have to seduce Professor Sherman with short skirts and long glances.

  Her eyes popped open. She stared vacantly at her dimly lit reflection in the television across the room. The thought of having to look her father in the eye tomorrow made her shudder. For a minute there, she didn’t think Hank was going to let her keep her car, let alone come back home. If he knew about Professor Sherman he wouldn’t have. As far as her father was concerned, slipping grades is where Stella’s tragedy ended. She sighed, trying to imagine living under his roof again, just the two of them now. If there was another option she would snatch it in a heartbeat.

  In the TV’s bowed glass, she saw herself wrinkled and gray, taking orders at Talvert’s Bar & Grill and turning into as big of a drunk as the most of the locals. After all, what else was there to do? Cottage Grove was a small town with even smaller opportunities. Working at her father’s roadside bar and grill over the summer was one thing, working there fulltime was another. A city worker in a neon green vest popped into her mind, changing the big Welcome to Cottage Grove sign on the edge of town from Population 701 to Population 702 as soon as she crossed the city line. And everyone would know who 702 was and why 702 was back. They would look at her with that fucking pity in their eyes and she hated her mother for that. How her father and brother put up with it, she would never know.

  “Don’t get negative,” she told herself, determined to utilize this opportunity as a second chance, a springboard to bigger and better things. It was possible – much like aliens landing on Earth was possible. “You are a great person and maybe this is meant to be. Maybe amazing things are waiting for you down the road, Stella Talvert.” The bed creaked its doubt when she sat up to face her reflection. Her lips pressing into a thin, grim line. “Like serving fish fry and reliving the past all over again.” A low groan rolled from her lips. If only she could fall for her deviously convincing words like so many men had done before. This was going to get ugly. She would just have to live in the closet under the stairs and never come out. That’s all there was to it.

  Despite the room’s muggy air, a cold shiver crept down her spine at the grim look on her reflection’s face. Stella grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand and took a long drink, grimacing when she swallowed the warm water. She made a bluck sound and snatched the ice bucket on the counter. Slipping into her shoes, she winced with the pain and opened the door. A cool breeze kissed her skin, pulling a refreshing sigh from her lips. She considered leaving the door open to air the place out but decided she was too tired to fight off any perverts hiding in the shower when she returned.

  It was a long walk past several closed doors to the halo of light floating over an outdoor ice machine planted in the middle of the L-shaped motel. Her heels clicked loudly against the cement, tired mind unable to shut down. She let it go blank and focused on the cracks in the sidewalk because that was for the best. Sleep had eluded her the past few nights as it was and tonight she would need her rest. Tomorrow would be another full day of back-ass highways and filthy gas stations with burnt coffee and stale donuts to keep her going.

  Ice cubes lazily rattled into the plastic bucket, loud enough to wake the dead. Her eyes scanned the lonely lot as the machine momentarily spun its gears searching for another cube. Outside of her car, there were only two other vehicles – one of which Stella was fairly certain had been used in a recent murder. The white cargo van just had that look. The same look the greasy front desk clerk had. Nestled into a hillside of dense trees, this place was ripe for people on the run. After all, that’s why she picked it.

  That, and the prime rate.

  Ice cubes overflowed the bucket’s rim and hopped around her red heels. She pulled it back and turned for her room, nerves jumping when she slammed into someone standing behind her. A slight scream shot from her as ice cubes fell between them like frozen confetti.

  He looked up from the mess on the ground and brushed a hand over his hair that was as dark as the eyes looking through her. “Hope you left some for me,” he said, spreading an easy grin.

  Stella’s voice struggled for escape. From his swept back hair and piercing eyes to his tailored black suit and skinny red tie, he was one of the most gorgeous things she ever laid eyes upon, stealing both her breath and voice in one fell swoop.

  And that dimple, damn.

  She swallowed hard. He looked just like her next mistake. And the last thing she needed right now was another mistake. Going on a hard twenty-three, the get-out-of-jail-cards were spent, her nine lives down to one. Stella realized she was clutching an ice bucket to her chest like a cross. She cleared her throat and stepped around him. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t suppose you know where a guy can get a drink around here?”

  She stopped with her back to him, heart fluttering against the plastic bucket at the sound of his raspy voice. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her neck as a breeze tickled her long, wavy locks. Stella turned to face him, heart pumping faster at the sight of him. “I’m not from around here.”

  He barely nodded in the quiet stretching between them before turning his back to her. “Me neither,” he said, filling his bucket. “I was on my way to a convention when my car decided to blow a gasket and now I’m stuck here until they find the right part.”

  She pinched her eyes together, instinctively assessing the value of his shiny black watch under the light’s yellow glow.

  Assessment?

  Expensive.

&nbs
p; Stella pegged him as a gynecologist – probably the kind with hidden cameras in the examination room – touring hospitals and clinics in the area. “Lucky you,” she replied, stealing a peek at his little round tush as he filled his bucket. It was nice and she wanted to grab it.

  Tall, dark and handsome spun around, catching Stella’s eyes glued to his backside. The hint of a smile played on his lips. “It’s a classic car and could take awhile to find the right parts.”

  She sharpened her gaze. Her brother owned a classic car and the one thing she knew about his sixty-nine Camaro is they don’t come cheap. “Try having a Chevy Volt,” she said, nodding to her black car. “They have to order parts from the future for it.”

  He laughed and shifted in his shiny shoes. Everything about him was shiny, from his smile to his suit, and Stella wanted to rub him all over her body, not daring to miss a spot.

  “How about you?” he asked with that cocky grin of his that said he knew something she didn’t. “Just passing through?”

  She nodded, blushing when she caught herself wondering what he looked like without a shirt.

  He stepped closer, the sweet smell of his cologne sprinkling over her like pixie dust. “Roman Weathers,” he said, extending a hand.

  Operating on little more than automatic pilot, Stella took his warm hand in hers and squeezed. “Sabrina.”

  His eyes brightened. “That’s a pretty name.” His gaze slid to the cleavage poking from her sheer blouse, but she wasn’t mad at him for it. That’s what this top was designed to do. It wasn’t his fault. It was just as magic as her red high heels.

  With an unmistakable glimmer in his dark eyes, he said, “It’s nice to meet you, Sabrina.”

  The way her bar name rolled off his tongue made her want to go back in her room and lock the door before it was too late. It was the same thing that always told her stuff. Basic instinct. She knew trouble when she saw it. But as the saying goes, the trouble with trouble is that it always starts out as fun before exploding in your face. Just the same, Stella stood steadfast without taking her hand back, letting him size her up for as long as he damn well pleased. His hand was so soft and warm, and she couldn’t help but imagine it cupping her cheek when he leaned in to kiss her, his sweet saliva mixing with hers. Instead of kissing her, however, Roman let go of her hand and took a quick look around.