I frown. Craven Elementary? Does Sabrina tutor there or something? The question flies from my head when Sabrina stands and bobbles slightly.
“Let me show you out, sweetheart,” I say softly, leading her around the pool. I turn my head back and see Leigh laughing into her hands. I shoot her an angry look, and she shrugs, an innocent grin on her face.
Why did my stepmother get Sabrina drunk for their little conversation? At that moment, I realize Leigh is more dangerous than I’d estimated. I’ll have to keep an eye on her.
You won’t be around to keep an eye on anyone, I remind myself. The exchange with my brother had all but cemented my plan of action. I know how I’ll get him now. And it will likely be the best thing for my father’s business too.
Leaving my father in the clutches of Leigh gives me the chills. I don’t trust that woman. I’ll have to figure something out before the final phase.
Dad made his own bed, I remind myself. He chose the young woman for himself, and he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions.
We reach our vehicles, and it’s obvious Sabrina can’t drive. “You’re drunk,” I say bluntly. “Give me your keys.”
“I’m drunk?” she says, confusion present in her voice. “I don’t know how that happened.”
“I do,” I grumble, pulling the purse from her hands and digging inside for the keys to her ancient car. “Leigh poured champagne down your throat.”
“She did?” Sabrina says as if she doesn’t remember what happened.
“Basically,” I say, using the key to unlock her passenger door, then helping her get settled inside. I slide in the driver’s seat. “Buckle up.”
I watch as she buckles the safety belt. Her expression is far away. “At least I got my job back,” she says after a moment, then turns to me. “Didn’t I?”
“Yes,” I say, putting the key in the ignition and waiting for the fucking thing to turn over. It finally catches when I’m at the end of my patience. “We’re getting this piece of shit fixed right now,” I growl. “It’s ridiculous that you’re driving around the same crapmobile from childhood.”
“Most of us can’t afford to have Monets in our living room, Alexander.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “You’ve seen where I live, Sabrina. The only painting I own is a crappy one of an old wooden boat.”
I start down the hill, angrier than I have reason to be. “My brother may be a spoiled snob piece of shit, but that’s not me.”
“I know,” she says after a minute. “I’m sorry.” She puts a hand on my arm, and I start to tingle where she’s touching me.
Goddammit, Sabrina, I think to myself. Why can’t I resist you?
I want to put her aside, to ignore her, to forget that she lives in this town and pretend that what we have between us doesn’t exist.
But I can’t. I fucking can’t.
I pull up in front of the town mechanic’s shop. Jim Haverfield comes out, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. “What can I do you for?”
I pop the hood. “The damn thing doesn’t like to turn over for shit.”
Sabrina pulls herself out of the car, and I escort her into the small waiting room. I make a beeline for the pot of shitty coffee in the corner. I slosh some in a Styrofoam cup and drop in some cream and sugar. “Here,” I say, handing it to her. “You should sober up before you go home.”
She smiles sheepishly and plops into one of the cheap plastic chairs lining the room. I push my way through the door and back onto the lot and approach Jim.
“It’s gonna take a little poking around for me to figure this out.”
I nod. “That’s fine. I’m going to run back up the hill and grab my bike. Keep her in the waiting room, you understand?”
Jim nods and shoves his head back under the hood. I start jogging back up the street that zigzags toward the heights and my father’s estate. What’s only a five-minute drive takes twenty minutes to do on foot at a brisk pace.
When I reach the top of the hill, I’m slightly winded. It reminds me of Basic, of carrying my pack for night-long jogs through the hills of Southern California.
I climb on Delilah, but before I can get the bike started, I see a figure in the garden. It’s Chuck, I realize. But he’s not alone. He’s pushing a wheelchair.
In the chair is my father.
Chapter 18
Sabrina
I gulp my second cup of coffee, and things start to clear up for me. I was blindsided by the alcohol with breakfast. First because I didn’t realize I was drinking any, but secondly because I’m not much of a drinker anyway, especially with my eggs and toast.
The small waiting room is stuffy, the television tuned to a morning all-female talk show. Reception is spotty, so the women seem to be at sea, their images roiling with the waves of the unsteady signal.
I fan myself, wondering how long I’ll have to wait in this box, listening to the topics of the day. How much time should a woman spend on housework a day? What are our children watching on the internet when we’re not around? How can you keep your sex life spicy?
Marry a guy like Ax, I say to myself. No shortness of spice there.
The room becomes too stuffy to stand, so I step outside, enjoying the relative coolness in contrast. Leaning against the building, I watch Jim as he tinkers under the hood of the old beast.
I glance at the clock on my phone. It’s only noon, and it’s already been a rollercoaster of a day.
I got my job back, I remind myself. Mission accomplished.
And I’d made a new friend. Or, at least, that’s what Leigh said. I’m her appointed new best friend, a prospect that starts to scare me now that I’m sobering up. I admit Leigh makes me nervous. Not only is she the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen, but there seems to be something beneath the surface, something subtle and perhaps not so pleasant, that I’m not aware of.
My gut seems to be warning me to proceed with caution. Then there’s Ax’s involvement. I remember sensing some vague chemistry between the pair. It would make sense, both are at the pinnacle of human beauty, but it wouldn’t make things any easier on me.
Besides, I say to myself, do you really believe Ax would sink low enough to bang his father’s young wife?
Of course not.
He might have been accused of stealing from his father before, although I believe that he didn’t, but that doesn’t mean he’d fuck his stepmother.
Would he?
I shake those thoughts right out of my head. Ax isn’t that person. I know him better than that.
I shade my eyes as the sun climbs above the trees lining the street. The brightness is causing a throb to start at my temples. I’m about to ask Jim if he can hurry things up or we can reschedule, but before I move, I see a familiar figure heading my way.
“Hey, Tonya,” I say when she leans against the building next to me. “How’s it going?”
“Can’t complain,” she says, looking out over the parking lot. Tonya is what I’d call a diamond in the rough. She’s pretty, in her own way, petite with dark brown curls that blow in unruly patterns around her head and eyes to match, her nose smattered with freckles. But her mannerisms are pure country.
“You see them guys over to the Hampstead house?”
I shake my head. “What guys?”
Tonya takes a breath, carrying on with an air of casualness, but I know she’s eager to spill her scoop. While Buzz might be the unofficial mass media of Cape Craven, Tonya is the on-the-spot reporter with all the news as it happens.
“I was heading back from my auntie’s house this morning and I seen ‘em. Three of ‘em. All dressed up in black and riding in a black SUV.”
This is interesting news in a small town where everyone knows everyone else and surprises are rare. “They were at the Hampstead house?”
“Sure were.”
“That house has been for sale almost two years now.”
Tonya nods. “The sign’s gone now. Them guys musta bought the place.�
�
Strange. Mrs. Hampstead had put the house up for sale after her husband passed and she moved two counties over to live with her sister. It’s an old place, half falling down, so the idea that three men from out of town would buy it is curious, to say the least.
“What did these guys look like?”
Tonya let out a slow whistle. “They’re around our age, I’d guess. Big guys. Tall. Lots of muscles bulging out of their black t-shirts.”
I cross my arms over my chest. What purpose would three men have in moving to Cape Craven? And what three men buy a house together? The situation isn’t adding up immediately.
“You think they’ve come to work in the CI factory?”
“Maybe.” I can’t think of another explanation, other than their going to work for the Cravens. There’s nothing else in this town that would draw new blood in.
“They kinda reminded me of Ax,” Tonya says. “You know, all big and beefy like him.”
I purse my lips. Great. That’s just what I need. Three more men like Ax.
“Speaking of,” Tonya says, wetting her lips. “You ever gonna tell him that he’s Lex’s daddy?”
“What?” I ask, my arms dropping limply at my sides. I’ve never told Tonya the truth about Lex’s parentage. Sure, I expect folks in town have their suspicions, but no one has ever asked me outright.
“Just wondering,” she says, shooting me a sideways glance. “I mean, now that he’s back in town and all. I thought maybe you guys would be getting together, like a happy little family.”
I cover my eyes with my hands. Tonya doesn’t know how wrong she is.
“How did you know?” I say after a moment, not seeing a point in denying it.
“Lex is his spitting image,” Tonya replies. “She looks more like him every day. With that dark hair and those eyes. She’s a Craven, all right.”
I take a deep breath, not knowing what to say. I’d seen these same traits in her myself, and deep inside I’d been thrilled to see her father’s reflection in her appearance. But at the same time, I’ve lied to myself, telling myself it isn’t that obvious, that no one could guess just by looking at her.
I suppose I was wrong about that.
“He doesn’t know,” I say after a couple of beats. “And please, Tonya, don’t tell him.”
“I figured,” Tonya says, putting a tiny hand on my shoulder. “And I wouldn’t tell him, don’t worry. I just—” She pauses, looking deep in my face, and I realize for the first time that Tonya is the closest friend I have, and I don’t appreciate her like I should.
“I worry that I’m not the only one who’s noticed. If Ax keeps coming into town, someone is bound to say something to him.”
I nod and bite back tears I can feel starting to flood my eyes. “I know,” I whisper. “I just don’t know what to do about it. How can I tell him that I’ve been keeping his daughter a secret from him for so long? He’d never forgive me.”
Tonya stands on tiptoes to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “Aw, sweetie, it can’t be that bad.”
“It is,” I say, wiping the tear that spills over. “I should have told him I was pregnant ten years ago. Or, at the very least, I should have introduced him to Lex the last time he was in town. I planned to, but—”
“But he got arrested.”
I nod. “Yeah. Then it never seemed like the right time to tell him. Besides, who knew if he was ever coming back to Cape Craven.”
Tonya nods. “Does Lex know who her daddy is?”
The question makes me feel even lower, and now I can’t stop the tears. “No,” I admit, brushing a hand over my nose to wipe away what’s coming out. “She’s been asking, but so far I haven’t told her.”
My companion lets out a hiss of air from between clenched teeth. “That’s a lot of weight you’re carrying around. Must be tough.”
“You have no idea.”
Tonya looks at me. “Hey, you’re strong. You can get through this. Maybe it’s time to come clean, to tell everyone everything and deal with the consequences.”
I consider her words. Most of my life, I’ve taken Tonya for granted. No one comes to her for sage advice, and most people think she’s dumber than a box of rocks, but I realize now that she has hidden depths.
Could I come clean, to Lex and to Ax? Tell them both the truth?
Lex will be happy to know she has a father, but she might not be delighted to find out exactly who he is.
And Ax. What will Ax do?
I imagine his face, full of storm clouds after the big reveal. I sometimes think Ax specializes in holding grudges. Could he really let something like this go?
Could Ax really forgive me?
“I don’t know,” I say after a moment. “It’s a huge risk.”
“No risk, no reward,” Tonya reminds me, then pulls herself off the side of the building. “Besides, now might be the time for you to take those risks. I heard Ms. Birch fired you.”
I nod, a harsh bark of laughter bursting through the waterworks. “She did, right there in the general store, in front of God and everybody.”
Tonya’s eyes are wide, but she’s shaking her head. “That old busybody. She’s meaner than a wet panther. I don’t know what she’s got against you.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say, a brief smile crossing my face. “I went above her head.”
Tonya looks confused. “What do you mean?”
“Ax got me an interview with the new Mrs. Craven. She’s going to be taking things over at the foundation. And she’s decided to give me my old job back.”
“Well, don’t that beat all!” Tonya says, slapping her thigh. “You mean that supermodel is gonna start working for a living? I don’t believe that for a second.”
I chuckle. “I don’t care whether she does or not, as long as she can push past Ms. Birch and I have a job. I can’t afford not to.”
Tonya eyes me as if she wants to state something obvious, but she doesn’t. Instead, she takes a step away, her gaze returning to scanning the parking lot. “Anyways, I gotta get going. I promised my momma I’d help her weed that damn garden of hers.”
Before she can go, I pull the smaller woman into a fierce hug. “Thank you,” I say, and she gives me a shy smile.
“Take care of yourself,” she says over her shoulder as she walks off down the sidewalk.
I brush away the lingering tears and feel myself sliding down the wall to sit on the cold ground. I find myself considering Tonya’s proposal.
Spill the beans now, and deal with the fallout.
Can I do it? And what might be the consequences of such an action? I know Ax will be pissed, but in the end, I’m not sure how much it will matter. If he’s hell bent on whatever nefarious actions he’s got planned, he won’t be around Cape Craven for long enough to cause much trouble.
It’s Lex that I’m really worried about. What will she make of the knowledge that her dad is not only a war hero but an ex-convict? It’s not exactly the fairytale father she might have been imagining for herself.
Adulting is hard, I think. No one ever really prepares you for the questions you’ll face, questions there seem to be no good answers for.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out. “Hey, Mom,” I say, ready to spread the good word about my meeting at the Craven estate.
“Sabrina, where are you?”
The panic in her voice has me jumping to my feet. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Lex,” she says, her tone shrill. “Boys from her school, they attacked her.”
“Does she need an ambulance?” I ask, my hands shaking. “Should I call 9-1-1?”
“No, she’s not badly hurt. Just really shaken up.”
“I’m on my way home,” I yell, hanging up and shoving the phone back in my pocket. “I need my car, Jim,” I holler at the mechanic.
He straightens, a piece of my engine in his hand. “You can’t have it just yet,” he says. “I’ll have to put this back on and pray it starts.”
Chapter 19
Ax
“Hey, Dad,” I say, my voice soft. “It’s good to see you.”
It is good, and then again, it isn’t. Christopher Craven is a ghost of his former vigorous self. His tall frame is bent, his skin sallow. What happened to my father?
His head lifts, and he looks at me but says nothing. I shoot a glance at Chuck, but the man is staring off into space, clearly not engaged in the conversation at hand.
I kneel beside the wheelchair and take my father’s hand. “How’ve you been?”
He stares at me, his hazel eyes unfocused. “Alexander,” he says after a moment, his voice hoarse as if he hasn’t used it in a long while.
“That’s right, Dad.” I see that the news of a stroke is accurate. Something has to have happened to take my father from the commanding captain of industry to the shell that sits before me now. “I came to see how you’ve been doing.”
He looks confused for a moment. “You were in jail. Locked up like a common criminal.” Some of the fog clears from his eyes. “For stealing from me.”
“Dad,” I say, unsure of how to start. “I’d never steal from you.”
“That isn’t what your brother said,” he replies, turning to stare off across the lawn.
“Yeah, well, Brent and I disagree about a few things.” I stand, sliding my hands into my pockets. “But this isn’t about me. How are you? Not feeling well?”
He grimaces. “That’s obvious, isn’t it?” He adjusts himself slightly in the chair and lets out a long breath. “I’m stuck in this stupid thing until my doctors say otherwise. So now they wheel me around like an old man, or keep me locked in my room all day, telling me it’s for my own good.”
I make a mental note to dig a little deeper into my father’s condition. A cold voice inside reminds me that I’m not here for that. Revenge on Brent doesn’t concern my father. If anything, it might hasten his own demise.
Mine Forever #1 Page 13