Distracted: An Everyday Heroes Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Michelle Fernandez

  I squeeze her and I close my eyes. It’s moments like this I cherish, and I want to stop time as I watch the stars from the night light dance against the wall.

  “Mommy?” Lily’s soft voice breaks the silence.

  “Hmm,” I answer.

  “Spencer said you were friends when you were a little girl,” Lily says, taking me by surprise.

  “Yes. It was a very long time ago.”

  “What did he lie about?”

  I take a moment to reply as I remember that night in the back seat of his car and the day I called him several weeks later when his fiancée, Tanya, answered his cell phone. Then I changed my number so I could disconnect from him for good.

  “He told me he would make all my dreams come true.”

  “And he didn’t, huh?” she assumes. “It’s because we didn’t have Astra yet.”

  I kiss the top of her head. He made one dream come true.

  After settling in bed, I pull the covers up, and I’m completely exhausted. I spot Nonna’s letter on the nightstand and debate reading it. Today was a whirlwind of emotions. I don’t know if I can handle another surprise.

  After gathering my courage, I grab the letter resting next to the lamp and pull out the ivory paper.

  My dearest Sabrina,

  If you are reading this, know that I am looking down from heaven and watching all my girls. But you especially. I know you have many questions for me, and I am sorry I shocked you with the one thing you would never suspect from me—sharing the house with Spencer.

  I know what you’re thinking. And you are right. At first, I didn’t like the boy. Boys should hang out with other boys. Why you two were together more than usual was not normal. What can I say? I’m a prude and old fashioned. Girls hang out with girls and boys with boys. But then it clicked. Spencer loves you and has loved you ever since you broke your leg when you were thirteen, and maybe before that.

  And now that you’re older and hopefully wiser, you need to let him in your life again. I know you don’t want him in it after what he did to you. I don’t blame you, but he needs to know that he has a daughter. Spencer has every right to know. Let him decide if he wants to be part of her life or not. That should have never been left up to you. And Lily needs to know her father is alive.

  You’ve told me countless times Spencer did not want children. But that little girl of yours can melt even the coldest of hearts.

  Don’t make the same mistake as I did. And since I have made such a profound statement, you should know that your mother, my daughter, Marie, was not your Nonno’s. Your real grandfather was a sailor, and we spent so much time together before he deployed. Then your Nonno came into my life while I was pregnant with your mother. He still loved me, even knowing the child I carried was not his. Your Nonno was a good man, and he loved your mother as if she was his own. My one regret in life was never telling Marie’s father he had a daughter, and unfortunately, he will never get a chance to meet her.

  Sabrina, you have a good heart, and you know keeping this secret is wrong. Please find a way to forgive him and yourself. You need each other, and Lily needs her father.

  I love you with all my heart and soul.

  Nonna

  Spencer

  “Do my eyes deceive me?” Grady’s voice booms when I walk through the door of Hooligan’s. “Spencer-fucking-Hayes.”

  After seeing Sabrina this evening, I had to take a drive. I didn’t want to go back to Callie’s place and sleep on her lumpy couch. I know my sister will hound me like the snoop she is, wondering how things went.

  I didn’t want to go to my parents, to hear my dad and his never-ending prying as to why I went into the police force. He would never understand the promise I need to fulfill.

  When I see my high school buddy while the large, heavy wood door closes behind me, I smile. “Grady Malone,” I greet. We give each other a half-man hug, clapping each other’s shoulders.

  “You don’t write, you don’t call,” Grady jokes. “I thought you forgot about this place.”

  “Nah, just been busy,” I say as I breathe in the musty scent. This place has not changed one bit. The concrete floor, neon sign in the window, and the long wooden bar top are still the same. It feels good to be home.

  “When did you get in?” Grady asks, motioning to take a seat at the high-top table where his youngest brother, Grayson, is sitting.

  “Two days ago.”

  “Were you at Lilliana’s funeral?” Grayson asks, holding up four fingers, motioning at the bar behind me for more beers. “I didn’t see you.”

  “Yeah. I was late.”

  “Same ole Spencer, always running late.” Grady pats me on the shoulder. “So, how long are you in town for?”

  I shrug. “Not sure. I’m on suspension.” My original plan was to leave after the reading, but seeing Sabrina changed that. I’ve got six weeks to make us right again.

  “What the fuck?” Grady blurts, almost spitting his beer. “What did you do to get your ass in hot water?”

  “It was a good call. We arrested the bastard, and when I thought all was right in the world, the powers that be didn’t think so.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.” A slap to my shoulder and Grant takes the empty chair next to me. “You’re preaching to the choir, pretty boy. Did you forget who our father is?”

  “Hey man, how the hell are you?” I clasp his shoulder with my hand and squeeze. “Getting kind of soft in your old age, aren’t you, Daddio?”

  “Whatever, man,” Grant retorts. All three Malone brothers stare blankly, waiting for me to tell them about my suspension. Cop stories are always good to hear, especially the ones that get us into trouble.

  I go through the details of the case. My undercover role as a buyer for the last five months, Teagen’s role as bait, and how our undercover sting operation went to shit when her ex-boyfriend showed up at the bar. Fucking Matt, I should kick his ass.

  Then the shootout in the bar almost cost the lives of innocent patrons. Granted, that shouldn’t have gone down the way it did. But nobody got hurt, and we got our arrests.

  “Why does your story sound like it came from a Die Hard movie?” Grant chuckles as he tips back his beer.

  “You live in Sunnyville. I live in LA.” I scratch my chin.

  Grant laughs. “Touché, my friend.”

  “Hey, you think I can use your computer at the station?”

  “Sure, I guess. What do you need it for?” Grant asks.

  “I need to get a phone number of a suspect,” I lie.

  The phone number I need is Sabrina’s. I can’t ask my sister for it. She’ll pry and pry, wondering what happened between us. I know Callie doesn’t know about our one-night stand. If my sister did, she would give me hell for thinking I took advantage of her.

  In high school, I chased girls, they chased me, and I played the field. Some made it to third base, and there were a few home runs. But with Sabrina, she was always in the stands on a pedestal and untouchable. She deserves the best, and I would never let her settle for an asshole like me.

  “Sure, come by the station whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thanks, man,” I say as I raise my bottle and clink it with his.

  “Stop being a chicken shit. And stop pretending.” Grady looks to Grant. “He wants Sabs phone number.”

  Grant chuckles. “All you had to do was ask.”

  “It’s complicated,” I reply.

  “So,” Grayson speaks up. “What’s up with you and Sabrina?”

  “Nothing’s up,” I reply, downing what’s left of my beer, then raise the empty bottle to the server for another round.

  “I saw Sabrina with her daughter, Lily, at the ice cream shop. Cute kid,” Grayson continues, giving me a curious smile.

  “What’s that look for, Gray,” I ask as if he’s implying something.

  “Nothing.” The suspicion in Grayson’s voice tells me he wants to say more but is holding back for me to guess. “Since y
ou and Sabrina were close growing up, does she talk about Lily’s father?”

  “Gray”—Grant slaps Grayson on the back of his head—“you’re such a nosy fucker!”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Grayson says. “We know Sabrina’s got class, and she is nothing like the skanks in high school. I’m just curious, is all.”

  I came here tonight so I didn’t have to think about her. But who am I kidding? I’ve been thinking about Sabs from the moment I left the house. I haven’t stopped thinking about Sabrina ever since that night. Maybe that’s why I was a terrible husband to Tanya and a dick to Rebecca.

  “The prick skipped town after he found out Sabrina was pregnant,” I explain. “At least that’s what Callie told me.”

  “What the fuck?” Grayson blows out.

  “I don’t know what happened between them,” I say, playing with the paper napkin.

  “I thought you and Sabrina were close,” Grady assumes, burrowing his brows.

  I shake my head. “It’s a long story. We had a fallout and not one I care to talk about.”

  The server arrives at the table with a tray of beers. I immediately pick one up and take a long pull. Whoever and wherever Lily’s father is, I hope his balls fall off just for skipping out on Sabrina and that cute little girl. He doesn’t deserve to be a man.

  A conversation flashes through my mind—the day Tanya told me she was pregnant, and I married her out of obligation. No kid should live without their dad. Don’t get me wrong, I cared for Tanya. But I can’t say I was truly in love with her.

  We got married at the courthouse, and I did my best to be a good husband. I promised her I would be a good father to our unborn child. In the beginning, things were good for us. Then, I got a call to meet Tanya in the emergency room, where she miscarried during the second trimester. Even though I didn’t want children and wasn’t ready to be a father, I’ve never felt so heartbroken and empty.

  After that, we fought all the time. Sex wasn’t the same and happened far less frequently. I poured myself into my work, and she did the same. I worked all hours of the day just to avoid any arguments. The gap between us grew farther apart, and we finally had to call it quits.

  Why it took so long is beyond me. Maybe I was hoping for a picture-perfect marriage like my parents. Dad loved Mom unconditionally by spoiling her with not just gifts but with words of affirmation all the time and the endless public affection he showed us. And Mom was just the same.

  “I told Sabrina to bring Lily by my mom’s place to play with Luke this weekend,” Grayson says, bringing me back. “Luke and Lily seemed to hit it off when we saw them earlier today.”

  I roll my shoulders and take another pull of my beer. “How old is your son now,” I ask.

  “Luke just turned eight,” Grayson states.

  “Hmm.” I make a non-committal sound.

  “What’s that smirk on your face?” Grady ticks his chin up at me.

  “Nothing. I just remember what it was like to be a kid. Not a single worry to think about.” I play with the corner of the label. “Life was simpler back then.”

  “Tell me about it,” Grayson says. “These fuckers signed me up for some damn man-pageant, and I’ve got Sidney-goddamn-Thorton on my ass about it.”

  Grant and Grady chuckle as they tap their beer bottles.

  “Sidney Thorton?” I remember her. Sabs hung out with her a few times in high school.

  “Yeah. She works for that magazine, Modern Family, and I’m in some contest for a stupid ass top dad thing.”

  “Oh, come on, little brother. You secretly love this shit.” Grady nudges Grayson’s arm, then looks over at me. “Speaking of, tomorrow, there’s a celebratory gathering here for our baby brother’s heroism.”

  “I didn’t rescue her, asshole,” Grayson scoffs, scratching his nose with his middle finger.

  “Not according to the article.” Grant gives his brother a shit-eating smile, then looks at me. “He saved Sidney in the alley back there”—he points over his shoulder toward the back of the bar—“from an armed man.”

  “That article was pure bullshit.” Grayson takes a long pull of his beer.

  “Fine, then. You don’t want a celebration. We’ll just have a roast instead,” Grant adds. “Toe-may-toe. Tah-mah-toe.”

  “In that case, count me in.” I nod and laugh at the brothers that haven’t changed a bit since we were kids. “Anything to be part of razzing a Malone brother.”

  “It was in the paper today, and practically everyone and their mother will be at the party, including Sabrina. So, look your best, playboy.” Grady slaps my shoulder. Out of all the guys, he knew I had a thing for Sabrina back in high school, but she was too special for me to touch her, and we were too good of friends to cross that line. “She’s looking good. So, don’t fuck it up.”

  “That’s ancient history, Grade,” I reply, taking another pull from my beer.

  “Well, you know what they say. History is known to repeat itself. And when it does, do you learn from its lesson or accept the damage that has been done.” Grady raises his bottle as he leans back on the high-top barstool.

  “Since when did you get all philosophical?” I joke.

  “He’s married to a songwriter,” Grant says with a chuckle, and we all clink our bottles as our laughter roars through the bar.

  Grady is right. Getting suspended, coming back home, and seeing Sabrina here is my second chance. There’s also another saying, the women with the highest walls also have the deepest love. And it’s time for a do-over.

  “Hey.” I had to call her. I needed to know. “It’s me.”

  “Spencer? How did you get my number?”

  “I’m a detective, remember?”

  “What time is it?” she asks, and I love the sound of her raspy-just-awakened voice.

  “It’s just after one a.m.,” I say, taking in a deep breath. “I’m sorry to call so late, but I-I need to know something . . .” I trail off.

  “Know what? Can it wait till tomorrow?”

  No, it can’t wait, and I can’t sleep until I know.

  There wasn’t a doubt in my mind, seeing her again would bring back all the feelings I buried so deep inside me. We had something special, hell we still do, and I was an idiot to let it go. But my mind has been nonstop. I need to know.

  My eyes focus on a picture that had been tucked in my wallet. It’s the selfie we took with the lake behind us before she got that tattoo. Our tattoo.

  “When you called me, what did you want?” I ask.

  “What in the world are you talking about?” There’s confusion in her voice, along with an edge probably from pent up anger. Or maybe because I woke her up in the middle of the night.

  “Please, Buttercup,” I continue, “I need to know.”

  “Are you talking in your sleep again?” I hear shuffling on the other end, and I imagine her sitting up and leaning back on the headboard.

  “No. I’m wide awake. Just came back from Hooligan’s and had a few beers.” Not to mention the bottle of whiskey we polished off, and now I’m lying on this lumpy couch. A small lamp illuminates the living room. Alcohol is buzzing through my head, and all I can think about is Sabrina and her little girl.

  Call me curious, since it’s in my nature, but there was something about Lily I can’t shake. At the funeral, the way that little girl looked at me with her sparkling blue eyes had me on edge. And tonight, that same feeling overwhelmed me when I saw both of them on Sabrina’s porch.

  “You’re drunk,” she says resolutely. “I can always tell.”

  I chuckle as I hold back a burp. “Oh yeah. How?” I ask, loving the sound of her voice. At least she’s not yelling at me or hanging up on my stupid-drunk ass.

  “In college. You always called me in the middle of the night after a party. It’s how you slur your words . . . and you always said I only had a few beers.”

  “But I did only have a few beers.”

  “And how many shots of whiske
y?” she tacks on.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Good night, Spence. I’m going back to sleep.”

  “No! Wait. I need to know,” I tell her, hoping I get an answer. “Please tell me why you called me.”

  “Spencer. I didn’t call you.”

  “Six years ago. You told me it was important.”

  “Seriously?” She sighs. “It was a long time ago.”

  There’s a pause. Sabrina remembers, but she doesn’t want to tell me.

  “Did it have to do with that night . . . in the back seat of my car?” I ask, hating the way it came out. She deserved better than that. Call me an asshole, but in the heat of the moment, I needed to feel her skin on mine.

  “I’m not talking about this now.” She lets out another sigh. “Goodbye, Spen—”

  “I just want you to know I never stopped thinking about that night,” I say, closing my eyes and imagining her lips on mine. “Don’t tell me you hadn’t thought about that night, Buttercup. I know it meant something to you just as much as it did me.”

  “It was an impulse. You were there, and I needed you to take my mind off my parents and—”

  “I don’t believe that,” I cut her off again. “We have something, don’t deny it.” I look at the picture in my hand again.

  “We were friends, but we screwed it up. We shouldn’t have ever gone that far. And just in case you forgot, you were with Tanya.” There’s a bite to that statement, and I deserve it.

  “Please, I want to try again . . .”

  “I am not having sex with you.”

  I laugh. “That’s not what I meant. Let’s start over. Go out with me. Next Saturday.”

  “It’s not a good idea.”

  “And why not? Just think of it as a clean slate. Think of me as some random guy who happened to be in the small town of Sunnyville. I asked around about you, and I got your number from a friend.”

  “Spencer.” Her voice is soft, and I can hear the smile tugging at her lips. I’m breaking her down. I can feel it.

  “So, what do you say, Sabrina Allesandra Kent? Will you go out on a date with me?”