Of bringing Val.
Wasn’t it bad enough that he had to submit himself to this torture? To put up with the memories of the past and the constant reminder that he wasn’t good enough? To listen to his father criticize and find fault with everything?
He could tell himself he was over it, that it no longer made a difference, all he wanted. But they were just empty words, meaningless words meant to bolster. He thought it had worked.
He was wrong.
And now he was bringing Val into it, showing her a part of his life that he didn’t want to acknowledge. What the hell had he been thinking, asking her to come here with him? He knew the answer, as clear as he knew he didn’t want to be here. He was a coward, thinking Val would give him the strength and courage he needed.
He was wrong.
Justin turned in his seat, watching her as she put the truck in park and turned off the engine. So beautiful, with her long black hair and porcelain skin, her wide hazel eyes and full mouth. Did she have any idea what she did to him? Did she have any idea what she meant to him? How she made him feel? Like he could do anything, be anyone he wanted. Like he mattered. Like he wasn’t the colossal fuck-up his father thought he was.
What the hell had he been thinking, bringing her here? Showing her that he wasn’t really who she thought he was.
He wanted to tell her that he changed his mind, that the trip was a mistake. He wanted her to start the truck and turn it around and go back home. He could come back later, without her.
Justin reached for her, opening his mouth to say just that, but it was too late. Val already had the door open and was climbing out, her hand wrapped around the handle for balance as she stepped down. She placed her hands in the middle of her back and stretched, then shoved the sunglasses up, anchoring them in her hair. There was a hint of a smile on her face as she looked around, taking in the uneven yard, the large rocks here and there, the stretch of worn split-rail fencing that ran the perimeter. And in the middle of it all, looming in front of them, stood the house.
Close to two hundred years old, the restored farmhouse sprawled in front of them, its various additions over the years adding a look of fanatical whimsy. Weathered gray clapboard, black tin roof, full front porch. The addition running off the back also boasted a second-story balcony, added almost a hundred years ago. Not too far in the distance stood the barn, a large building bigger than the original house. Justin knew without looking that the equipment it housed was nearly new. Top of the line, no expense spared. And why would there be? Not when it was Justin’s money that had paid for everything.
Not that any of that mattered, not to his father.
He couldn’t stay here. Not with Val, not with the ghostly voices that would become too real this week. But he couldn’t just tell her they were leaving, not without having to explain so much more. He wasn’t quite ready for that.
Val turned back, her smile a little wider. “So you really are a farm boy, huh?”
Justin glanced at the house then back at Val through the open driver’s door, trying to muster something that resembled a smile. “Yeah, I guess.”
Val tilted her head, the smile on her face fading just a little. Probably because his voice had been anything but enthusiastic. And probably because he was still sitting in the truck, making no move to get out. Val lowered the sunglasses back over her eyes and closed the door, then walked around the front of the truck. Great, she probably thought he needed help. With a muttered curse, he opened the door and climbed down before she reached him, managing to bang his arm only once. He winced and closed the door, waving off Val’s concern when she reached for him.
“Should we get our bags now?”
“No, leave them. I think we’ll stay at a hotel in town.” It was the best compromise he could think of right now. It was what he should have done to begin with. Surely one of the small hotels still had a room available.
Val came up beside him, taking his good hand in hers and lacing their fingers together. She smiled at him then looked around again. “So is this part of the battlefield?”
“What?” He hadn’t expected that question, though he wasn’t sure why. It was a natural question, especially this close to town. But he’d grown up here, right in history’s back yard, and didn’t think of it in those terms. Justin looked around, trying to see everything through Val’s eyes.
“Everywhere around here is part of the battlefield. But not like you’re thinking. At least, it’s not part of the preserved battlefield that’s run by the park service. There were probably a few skirmishes here but nothing that’s considered important.”
“Oh. I thought the whole battle was important.” Was it his imagination, or did she actually look disappointed? The thought almost made him smile.
“I didn’t realize you were a history buff.”
Val shrugged, her gaze still studying the landscape around them. “Not really. But I still think it’s cool. I mean, imagine what it was like back then. Don’t you ever wonder who may have been standing right here, in this exact spot? Just because it didn’t make it into the history books doesn’t mean nothing happened.”
“Hm. Maybe.” Val looked so enthralled with the possibilities, so excited over whatever scenarios were playing out in her mind. Justin decided to share the one thing he did know that happened here. He squeezed her hand and motioned to the house with a single nod. “What would you say if I told you the house was used a hospital during the battle?”
“No way. Really?” Her smile grew wider as she turned from him to the house, no doubt imagining what it must have been like.
“Yup, really. Of course, pretty much every house around was used as some sort of hospital, so that doesn’t really mean much.” He squeezed her hand, knowing he should move forward, out of the yard and up to the house. But he wasn’t ready to, not just yet. “There’s a small parlor off to the left that still has the original wood floors. They say there was so much blood from all the soldiers that the floors are actually stained. I’m not sure how true that is, but I do know there’s a dark stain in the corner that’s supposedly from after the battle.”
“No way. Really? Cool.” Val’s smile widened. She glanced at him, her eyes hidden behind the dark glasses, her head titled to the side. “So. Are there any ghosts here?”
Justin’s grin faded. Only my personal ones, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t say that, not without explaining. And then he didn’t have to say anything because the front door opened, the wood frame of the screen banging shut as his father stepped onto the porch.
He had the same build as Justin, maybe a little rounder, a little softer in the middle. His blonde hair was mostly faded to gray, his complexion weathered and ruddy from so much time in the sun. Dark eyes, nearly identical to Justin’s, stared from beneath thick brows lowered in an impatient slash, their color cold and flat.
His father folded his arms in front of him, his booted feet braced shoulder-width apart. As Justin watched, those flat eyes moved to Val. Studying, watching. Distant and immediately disapproving. Then he turned that cool gaze to Justin, staring for seconds that stretched around them, quiet and uncomfortable.
His father. Justin’s own personal ghost. In the flesh and very much alive. A ghost he didn’t know how to deal with, even now.
“About damned time you showed up, boy.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Val was good at hiding her reaction, he’d give her credit for that much. Her smile didn’t slip at all and she barely even moved. The only evident reaction was the slight tightening of her fingers around his, just the barest squeeze.
Justin squeezed back, both seeking and giving reassurance. It was too late to turn back now, too late to try to explain. Not that he could explain anyway. How could he sum up his life here in less than thirty seconds?
Oh, by the way. My father is a controlling asshole who has made sure that I knew from day one I could do nothing right. Yeah, that didn’t even begin to cover it. It was best to just
stay quiet, force a smile, and get out of here as quick as he could.
Justin took a deep breath, calming the racing thud of his heart, and led Val forward. He stopped at the bottom step of the porch, looking up at his father, thankful he hadn’t bothered to take off his sunglasses. Justin wanted to tell his father he didn’t realize he was on a schedule, or that he still had to answer to him. Past experience warned him not to, already knowing that the end result wouldn’t be remotely worth the split-second of satisfaction he might have. So instead he squeezed Val’s hand again and offered his father a small nod.
“Pop, this is Val. Val, this my father, Brian Tome.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.”
His father didn’t say anything, just simply let his gaze rake over Val from head to toe and back again. He turned to Justin with a small grunt. “Get your bags. Dinner’s almost ready.”
“We’re not staying here.” His father paused with his hand on the door, his face expressionless as he studied Justin over his shoulder. Justin started to look away, to look down at the scuffed toe of his boot. He caught himself at the last minute and stopped, clearing his throat. “We’re going to grab a hotel room in town.”
His father kept looking at him, his dark gaze steady. Then, without another word, he turned and entered the house, the screen door banging shut behind him. A tense second went by before Justin realized he’d been holding his breath. He let it out then looked at Val, wishing he could see her eyes, see what she was thinking.
She turned her head, her smile gone. “Your dad isn’t very talkative, is he?”
Justin laughed, the sound short and harsh. If she only knew. “Val, I should have warned you. I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?”
For everything. For dragging her here. For exposing her to whatever shit his father was about to pull. For whatever shit she was about to hear. All of it.
But Justin said nothing. He tightened his hand around hers and led her up the steps and inside. He didn’t want to let go of her hand, didn’t want to lose that physical contact with her. But the house was dim, especially compared to the bright sun outside, and he needed to take off his glasses. He hesitated, then the choice was no longer his because Val released his hand and slid her own glasses up to her head. She looked around, her curious gaze taking everything in.
It wasn’t much to see, at least not as far as he was concerned. They were in the main entranceway, with a staircase to their right. Just beyond the staircase was a doorway leading into what was now a family room—the irony of the name not lost on Justin. A doorway to the left opened onto a formal dining room that hadn’t been used much even when he was growing up, reserved mostly for holidays and rare special occasions up until he was eleven years old. Justin didn’t even bother looking in, not wanting to see if anything had been changed since he left.
A wide hallway opened up off the entranceway, straight ahead, leading back to the rest of the house. A kitchen that had been enlarged into one big room to include an informal dining area. A smaller room that had been converted into an office. The main addition ran straight back off the large kitchen. When he was growing up, that’s where the family had gathered, in the large living room. To play games, talk about the day’s events. Hang out. That had all changed, just before his eleventh birthday.
It was still the room where the family gathered, but it was no longer filled with laughter and games.
“Well?”
Val tugged on Justin’s arm, pulling him from memories best left buried. He pulled his sunglasses off and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. “Well what?”
“The parlor? The one with the blood. Where is it?” Val’s smiling curiosity brushed away his deep thoughts and lightened his mood. He wanted to thank her, to tell her how much he appreciated it. But then he’d have to explain why and he didn’t want to do that, not just yet. So he leaned down and kissed her, a quick meeting of their lips. Val pulled back, surprise lighting her eyes.
“What was that for?”
“Just because.” He smiled and took her hand, pointing to their left. “The parlor is right through there, just past the dining room. I’ll give you the grand tour before we leave.”
He led her down the hallway and through the swinging door that opened to the kitchen. His father stood at the stove, his back to them as he drained a large pot of pasta in the sink. A basket of bread sat in the center of the table, next to a plastic tub of butter. His brother looked up from adding a fourth place setting, a grin on his face as he tried to discreetly study Val.
Justin felt an answering grin on his own face, the first real one in at least an hour. He released Val’s hand and motioned to his brother, who was already walking toward them. “Val, this is my brother. Gary, meet Val.”
Val held her hand out in greeting, a hesitant smile on her face. The smile disappeared, turning into a small O of shock when Gary stepped forward and gave her a hug. “Nice to meet you, Val.” Then he turned to Justin and did the same thing, with an added pat on the back. Gary glanced at him, a small warning flashing in his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at their father. Then he turned back to Val, his smile bright as he led her to the table.
“A pleasant surprise. It’s nice to see Justin bring someone with him.” Gary took the seat across from her then turned to Justin, his gaze dropping to his arm then up. “Well, I’ll give you this much. When you do something, you do it all the way. How’s the arm?”
“A little sore.”
“I bet. I saw the game. That was a nasty hit.”
Justin shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. Especially not here, in front of their father. He shifted and gave Gary a meaningful look, then turned to Val. She had been watching them, her expression curious, and he wondered what she was thinking. What she thought of his family so far. He cleared his throat and offered her a small smile, trying to think of small talk, something safe and neutral for conversation.
But his father was approaching the table already, the large bowl of pasta held between two large hands. He placed it in the center, cast a long look at Val, then took his seat. “Justin, have your lady friend get the drinks for us.”
The small smile on Val’s face froze, then disappeared completely, replaced by surprise. Embarrassment filled Justin, swift and hot, and he moved to push back his chair. “I’ll get them.”
“No, sit. I’ll get them. You’ve only got one arm.” Gary stood, his face tinged in pink, no doubt with the same embarrassment Justin felt.
His father fixed him with a steady look then reached for the pasta, spooning out a large portion onto his plate. “That’s right, one arm. Because you can’t even manage to play a game right.”
“Pop—”
“Think you can manage to pass the bread?”
Justin clamped his mouth shut and reached for the bread, but Val was faster. He felt her eyes on him, knew she was watching him, but he couldn’t look at her, not right now.
Gary returned to the table, breaking the tension that had settled over them. He placed a pitcher in the center of the table then leaned across, placing a bottle of beer in front of each place setting. Justin shook his head, waving it away.
“Tea’s fine.” He caught his father’s look, saw the slight shake of his head, as if he was disappointed yet again. Justin looked away, shifting his attention to the food and telling himself once again that bringing Val had been a mistake.
Silence settled over the room, broken only by the scrape of silverware against plates. Justin watched Val from the corner of his eye, noticed that she was busier twirling the pasta on her fork instead of eating it. Could he blame her? No, not when he was doing essentially the same thing.
“So, Val. What is it you do?”
She seemed to brighten at Gary’s question, straightening a little in her chair and giving him a small smile. “I’m co-owner of a sports bar and restaurant called The Maypole.”
“She’s very successful at it, too. It�
��s a very popular place and was even mentioned by several local magazines.” Justin added the information because he knew Val wouldn’t. She looked over at him, a soft smile on her face, then turned back to Gary. Justin figured she was going to explain a little about the restaurant, go into some more detail about it. But before she could say anything, their father let out a loud snort of disbelief. Justin froze, afraid of whatever was coming next.
“So you’re one of those.”
“Pop—”
“Pardon?” Val spoke at the same time, speaking over him. She turned to his father, her confusion evident. “One of what?”
“A working woman.” The tone was condescending and insulting. His father tore off a piece of bread and popped it into his mouth, speaking around it. “Thinks she can do everything on her own. Expects everyone else to cater to her.”
Justin wanted to shoot to his feet, wanted to yell at his father, let the last eighteen years of pent-up frustration explode. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Shame filled him, the same feeling he always had when he came home. But there was another feeling on top of it: embarrassment. For Val, who didn’t deserve his father’s harsh judgment. Not just embarrassment, but regret as well, because he didn’t know what to do.
Val turned in her seat and looked at him, almost like she was waiting for him to say something in her defense. Justin didn’t know what she saw in his face but he was surprised when a flash of understanding flared in her eyes. She straightened her shoulders then turned back to his father.
“You make being independent sound like something to be ashamed of.”
“Nothing wrong with being independent.” He twirled pasta onto his fork and lifted it, then used it to point at Val. “It’s just not what men are looking for.”
“Pop, you don’t—”
“You’re nothing like Gina. Now there was a woman who knew her priorities.”
Silence descended over them, quick and brutal. Justin froze, his hand clenching around the fork as anger burned through him. Even Gary froze, his eyes focused completely on the plate in front of him.
Delay of Game (The Baltimore Banners Book 6) Page 18