by Dana Mason
“You okay?” Mark asked.
She rolled her eyes.
“Yes, I’m fine. But damn, I don’t want to sit inside that house with nothing to do for the rest of the day.” Or the month, for that matter.
“Where do you want to go?”
She pulled the door handle. “No, I’ve taken enough of your time. But thank you.”
“Stop being so difficult.” He slapped a hand down on the steering wheel. “If I wasn’t willing to take you somewhere, I wouldn’t have offered.”
She dropped her head back again and exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry, I just feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
“I’ll tell you when I feel taken advantage of. Where are we going?”
She thought for a minute, knowing exactly where she’d like to go. It was probably too much to ask, but a little sunshine would do them both some good. And a beautiful afternoon on the beach with him wouldn’t hurt. She enjoyed his company. She could keep her distance and still spend the day with him...if he agreed.
“How about the beach?” she finally said, catching the surprise on Mark’s face.
“It’s the end of September, not exactly beach weather.”
“Yeah, but it’s still sunny.”
He nodded. “You want to go to the beach?”
“If I could drive, it’s where I would go.”
“You’ll feel better at the beach?” he asked.
“It’s therapeutic. I go there all the time, although I usually go alone.”
“I’m game.”
A grin broke out across her face. When he grinned back at her, her stomach fluttered in excitement. “Thank you.”
She jumped out of the truck, feeling better than she’d felt in days, and rushed into the house.
Mark closed the door to his truck, waiting to hear her enter the code to disarm the alarm. Almost at the same time, his cell phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID. “What’s up, Bri?”
“Is Jennings still with you?”
“Yeah...why?” Mark leaned against the side of his truck. “You got something new?”
“We have another victim.”
“Wha...a rape victim?”
“A student over at the junior college, and I’m sure it’s the same guy. I don’t even need to wait for the DNA. He knocked her unconscious and beat the crap out of her before she could fight back. She also gave a description remarkably close to Jennings’s attacker, and she looks just like your girl.”
Mark had to slow his breathing to speak. “Is she okay?”
“She’ll make it, but she’s got a long road to recovery. You should push Jennings to call her brother again. This guy is not dormant.”
“I’ll talk to her.” Not today, he thought. Not after he got a glimpse of her radiant smile. She needed a break, and if a sunny day at the beach would make her smile like that, he’d take her.
“All right, I’ll call if I get anything else,” Brian said before hanging up.
When Mark stepped into the house, he found Sarah in her bedroom packing a backpack full with accessories—iPod, books, towel, and a hat.
“What? You afraid I might make you talk to me?” he asked, picking up the second book.
“I’m packing some of this for you. I thought...,” she said as she placed the book inside the bag and tilted her head, “since I’ve been so bitchy this week you might not want to talk to me.”
He grinned. “Maybe I like the abuse.”
She laughed faking a frown. “I’m sorry.” She crossed her heart with two fingers. “I promise to cease all abuse for the rest of the day.”
Mark couldn’t respond. He was too fixated on her easy expression. Yeah, he definitely needed to keep her away from the news and let her enjoy the day before everything came crashing down on her again. The storm in her gray eyes settled, making it hard not to stare at her. “How about we pick up some sandwiches and eat on the beach?”
“Good idea. I already have everything we need in the car.” She zipped up her bag and grabbed a sweater from the hook on the back of her bedroom door. “Do you have a jacket?”
“I have one in the truck. Here—” He gestured to her arm before unfastening the sling to help her with her jacket.
“I usually go the long way. It’s a nice drive. Do you mind?”
“I don’t mind,” he said, helping her back into the sling.
Once the sling was fastened, she smiled again, nearly stopping his heart.
“Thanks,” she said, tugging on the hem of her sweater and then tossing her backpack over her good shoulder as she left the room.
He followed her to the second bedroom, which was a makeshift office. She took a set of keys from her desk drawer and jingled them at him before leaving the room.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re taking the car.”
“What car?”
“My car. It’s in the garage.” She gestured toward the unattached, beat-up shack to the left of her house. “This is much more fun to drive to the beach. Come on.”
Sarah unlocked the padlock on the double-hung, swinging garage doors. Both doors swayed forward, opening easily. Inside was a small car, concealed completely with a canvas car cover. She stepped inside and gripped the cover, tugging it until Mark reached down and pulled it back the rest of the way.
He stopped in his tracks. “What? Oh my God—is that a Shelby Mustang?”
“Yep. A 2008 Shelby GT500, and it’s damn fun to drive to the beach.”
“Holy shit, I’m gettin’ a hard-on.” The car was pearl white with vista blue racing stripes, tinted windows, and it was in immaculate condition. He glanced over at Sarah who appeared almost excited as he was. Who would’ve known?
“Sarah, I didn’t know you were a car guy.”
“Ha, ha, ha, very funny.”
“No wonder you take the long way to the beach—wait a minute, you can’t drive.” He pointed to her shoulder. “That means I get to drive this car.”
“Whoa—wait a minute, cowboy. Pump your brakes.”
“Nope, you can’t drive...what? You don’t trust me with your fifty thousand dollar car?”
“Honey, this car is worth more than that.” She raised an eyebrow. “You need to try harder if you want to talk me into letting you drive it.”
“Wait, you’re a teacher?” Where the hell did she get the money for this?
“Yeah, so...I inherited some money from my grandma and I bought myself a present.”
“And it never occurred to you to invest it instead?” he asked, leaning in to look through the windows.
“This car is an investment. It’s only going to increase in value.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, and this is much more fun than stocks and bonds.”
“Sure is, and yes, you can drive.” She handed him the keys.
“Freaking awesome.” He grabbed the keys and rushed to unlock the door before sliding into the soft leather seats.
Custom blue leather interior seats to match the racing stripes and stark white leather piping. He was impressed. The Mustang had a built-in GPS system and an elaborate sound system. He couldn’t wait to get out on the road and hear the motor purr.
“Don’t get comfortable, we need one more chair and you need to move your truck.”
“Hey, do you have some CDs we can take along for the ride?” he said. He wanted to check out the stereo and keep her away from any news reports.
“Yeah, what do you like?”
“Anything really, got any good driving music?”
He opened the trunk while Sarah grabbed another folding chair and placed it on top of the one already in the trunk.
“Wait, let me run inside and grab a couple more CDs. You might not like what I have in the glove box.”
Mark moved his truck and pulled the Mustang out of the garage. He popped the glove box and looked at the CDs inside—Alanis Morissette, Avril Lavigne, Pink, and Kelly Clarkson. I guess if that’s what she l
ikes. He shrugged and returned the CDs when she opened the passenger door.
“101 South?” he asked, pulling out of the driveway.
“Yes. What do you want to listen to?” she asked, struggling to unzip her CD case with one hand.
“The glove box is full of angry girl music. Do you have anything else?”
“Angry girl music?” She opened the glove box and chuckled. “Very funny. I’ve never thought of it that way, but I guess you’re right.” She closed the glove box and flipped through the collection on her lap. “Do you like Matchbox Twenty?”
“Sure, put in some angry boy music instead.”
“You got it,” she said as he turned onto the freeway ramp.
He couldn’t believe this car was hiding in that outdated, dilapidated garage. He bumped his speed up to eighty and before he realized, they were already coming up on their exit.
“Can I ask you something?” Mark said, reaching to turn the music down.
“Sure, ask me anything.”
“Why do you always go to the beach alone?”
“I like it. I can clear my head and it’s peaceful,” she said, staring through the passenger window.
“It seems like you do a lot of things alone.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
He shrugged. “Just trying to understand you.”
“Give it up. I’m a deep pool of the darkest water you’ve ever seen. You don’t want to go swimming, trust me.”
“What if I do want to swim?” He was pushing, but she was in such a good mood, he wanted to get some answers out of her.
“You’ve already gotten your feet wetter than most people. Don’t you feel the need to run away yet?”
“Do I look like I’m trying to run away from you?” He shrugged. “I just don’t get you.”
“What’s to get?”
“What makes you tick—beside this awesome car?”
“Well, I love my job, and I’m pretty pissed the doctor is keeping me off work for a month.”
“Yeah, that’d kill me too.”
She smirked. “Why—you hardly work.”
“Oh, I work, but being the boss has its advantages.” He grinned. “What else? Your life can’t be work alone.”
“I’m a marathon runner.”
“No kidding.” He nodded his head in appreciation. “I like to run, but marathon running is a bit extreme for me.” He glanced over at her. “That explains how you managed to take me down on Friday.”
Her expression dropped.
“Fuck,” Mark said under his breath. What the hell was he thinking bringing that up? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”
“It’s okay,” she said on a gush of air.
“No. No, it’s not. I should think before I speak.”
She coughed out a laugh. “You did go down pretty easy.”
“Adrenalin is a powerful thing.” He needed to be more careful. He tilted his head in apology. “I’ll keep my tongue in check for the rest of the day.”
“Don’t tiptoe around me.” She brought her hand to her chest and rubbed up her neck to her jaw, as if easing the pressure. “It’s okay. Let’s talk about something else. What would you like to know about me?”
“Tell me about your parents.”
“My dad lives in Nevada with his wife, Kim. He was once married to Ava’s mom.” Sarah looked away when she said it.
“That must make Ava your stepsister.”
Sarah nodded. “When our parents divorced, we stayed close.”
“And your mom?”
“Do you really want to know this stuff?” she asked with a nervous laugh, her cheeks turning a little pink.
“Don’t feel obligated. Only curious.” Okay, maybe this wasn’t any easier than talking about her attack.
“My mom is a singer. She and her husband, Sean, own a nightclub in Portland and she sings there.”
“Really? A singer. That’s interesting.”
“Interesting is an understatement when describing my mother.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, why?”
“She has a tendency to make herself larger than life. I guess it’s safe to say she likes being the center of attention. She was constantly moving us from one place to the next...always wanted to be the new big thing.”
“I imagine that’s a common thing for a performer.”
“Is that it? Because I’ve yet to come up with a decent excuse for the things she does.”
“Hell if I know.” He chuckled, and Sarah laughed too. “But what an interesting way to grow up—with your mom being a singer and moving around like you did.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve definitely seen a lot.”
He pursed his lips and wondered exactly what that meant. What would it take to really get her to open up and talk? She was so closed off to people, it was no wonder she didn’t have many friends. It seemed as if she liked it that way. “So where have you lived?”
“Portland, Boulder, Nashville. I went to high school in Flagstaff, Arizona. When I graduated, my mom moved back up to Portland with her new husband. I didn’t want to move again, so I stayed and started college.”
“You went to the University of Arizona?”
“Northern Arizona University is in Flagstaff, but I transferred to San Francisco and graduated from San Francisco State.”
“Apparently you weren’t too tired of moving since you moved to San Francisco and ended up here.”
“Yeah, Flagstaff wasn’t working for me.”
Mark sensed there was more to Flagstaff than she wanted to tell him. Her voice grew quiet, and she turned away from him to face the window. She was clearly uncomfortable talking about her family, but she didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. He wouldn’t judge her based on her parents’ mistakes.
“There’s a bus stop up here on the right if you want to pull over to get out and run away. I’ll understand, I warned you—dark water.”
“What aren’t you telling me, because I haven’t heard anything too terribly dark. Lots of people move around a lot.”
When she didn’t respond, he said, “Would you feel better if I made up some outrageous stories about my mom?”
“No—geez! My stories are all true.”
“It’s going to take more than your mom to scare me, although now I understand why you’re such a loner. Moving around so much would make getting to know people hard, much less have time to grow deeper relationships.”
“Yeah, that’s the reason,” she said, sarcastic again.
He frowned. “What’s made you so cynical?”
She was such a tough nut to crack. Never had he met a woman who kept herself so tightly guarded. Most people loved talking about themselves.
“Nothing, you’re right,” she said. “I told you this is a nice drive. Beautiful day.”
“All right, I’ll back off.”
She didn’t say anything else, which bugged him, but he accepted it. He’d agreed to come to the beach to brighten her spirits. Now, he didn’t know if that was possible, not when she had such a dark outlook on life.
“What are you thinking?” he finally asked after a long stretch of silence.
“I’m thinking I’m an ass for ruining your good mood.”
“That’s funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.” He gave her a thoughtful look. “We both need to cheer up. I’ve already decided you can’t be miserable while riding in this car.”
“And when did you decide this?”
“In the garage when I was trying to figure out what put you in such a good mood. I didn’t understand it until I saw the car.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a downer.”
“Don’t go there,” he said. “I’m happy you feel better. Your eyes are brighter and you look...better.” He looked at her, making eye contact.
“I didn’t realize I looked bad before.”
“No—I didn’t mean—I meant...sorry. Ugh, this isn’t coming out right.” He gestured toward her. “You’
re beautiful all the time, but today you look a little less...miserable—not the word I’m searching for but...”
He looked at her again. She was breathtaking even with her dark moods.
She stared at him for a moment, clearly getting some enjoyment out of his discomfort.
“Was that a compliment?” she asked.
He laughed. “Okay, all right. I’ll shut up. You talk—tell me more about your family.”
She chuckled. “Hmm...let’s see, I have two brothers. Devon is the oldest. As you know, he lives in San Diego. Robert is nineteen and at Stanford. My baby sister, Hayley, is fifteen and lives with my mom in Portland. She’s a sweetheart but too much like my mom.”
“You have two brothers and one sister? How long were your parents married?”
“My mom and dad were never married. It was just a fling. He married Ava’s mom when I was little and then married Kim after divorcing Ava’s mom. Robert is their child. He and I have the same father, different mothers. Devon, Hayley, and I all have the same mom, but different dads.”
“Oh, so they’re your half-siblings.”
“I try not to label my family. It doesn’t matter to me whether or not we have the same mother and father. I don’t love them any less, so why use a disclaimer?”
He shrugged. “That’s a good point. I never thought of it that way.”
“I know, it’s scary, huh? I warned you,” she chanted halfheartedly.
“Not that scary and don’t get cocky. We can’t all grow up with interesting parents. You don’t have to rub it in.”
“Ha, ha, funny.”
Mark’s smile faded and he said, “So...if your parents were never married, have you ever lived with your father?”
“Nope. I spent a few summers with him when I was young. That’s how Ave and I got so close, but other than a few months, I’ve never lived with him.”
“It must have been hard not having a father around growing up.”
“It was hard not seeing him every day. I imagine it’s just as hard for Jamie when he’s not with you. Being a teacher, I see a lot of kids going through that and it breaks my heart. They’re so confused and always just a little homesick for one parent or the other. Especially the kids who only get to see their dads one or two days a month...it takes a toll on them.”