The Broken One

by Cardello, Ruth

  I turned, opened the door of my car, and slid in. Breathe. I waved at him as if we’d met for a business lunch. I didn’t know what to make of the smile he shot me. It made my heart race, though. Maybe I wasn’t so bad at this flirting thing after all. I tried to give him a similarly enigmatic smile. A series of beeps returned my attention to the parking lot and the fact that I was about to back up into another car.

  I didn’t look back at him again until I was just about to pull out into traffic. He hadn’t moved from his spot, watching me go. If I could have pulled it off without him knowing, I would have loved to have taken a photo of him like that.

  When Erica asked me how we ended our date, I didn’t want to muddy my retelling of it. I wanted to say—Oh, yeah, I left him wanting more.

  And a photo of him like that would have been glorious proof.

  See that beefcake of a man? I’m the one he’s looking at that way.

  And pointing.

  Wait, why is he pointing?

  I looked forward again and realized another car was cutting in front of me. A young woman. Jerk. Couldn’t she see that I was having a moment?

  When our eyes met, she flipped me off.

  Me—a person who is known for being a considerate and careful driver.

  I threw my hands up in the air.

  She peeled out onto the road.

  I glanced back at Sebastian. Come on, lady, tell me you would be in a rush to drive away from that.

  Sebastian was still watching me. He had his arms folded across his chest, and he looked angry. Angry?

  Because I’d let that woman go first?

  No. That couldn’t be it.

  I waved again. He didn’t wave back.

  With a shake of my head, I drove off.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  * * *

  SEBASTIAN

  I had never come so close to pulling someone out of a car and demanding they not drive. Once again, Heather had revved my engines, made me smile, and left me in a tangled mess.

  The rational side of me knew she was probably a safe driver. She didn’t come across as someone who would speed needlessly, and she hadn’t ordered so much as a glass of wine with lunch. Still, my heart was pounding painfully in my chest.

  One’s entire life could be changed forever with one misstep.

  The official report of Therese’s accident said the fault was an impatient driver who had run a red light—an act that had ended his life as well. No way she could have avoided him.

  That accident was completely unrelated to Heather almost backing into a passing car or waving at me while pulling out onto the road.

  My gut was clenching, though, and I was fighting a demon I thought I had beaten. What the fuck? Why was it rearing its ugly head again?

  Heather.

  Did I really want to go back to caring about someone if this was how it felt? I got into my car and headed to my meeting with the son of the owner of Bhatt Markets. The purpose of the meeting was still a toss-up. He’d asked me to meet him away from his family’s office, and I’d agreed only because I was already going to be in the area anyway.

  Did he intend to threaten me? Beg me to reconsider? Neither would sway me. Emotion had no place in business.

  “Full disclosure, I ditched my underwear in the trash.” I smiled as I remembered how Heather had blurted that particular gem out. How was a man supposed to concentrate on anything else after hearing that?

  God, how long had it been since anyone had left me smiling—wishing we’d had more time together?

  Heather had made what she wanted clear, but although the idea of spending an afternoon driving her wild was deliciously tempting, I didn’t want to fuck her—not just fuck her. I tapped the breast pocket of my suit coat, rattling her dice.

  Full of bold promises, yet somehow innocent at the same time.

  Like Heather.

  I smiled again.

  She’d turned me down, and I’d liked it. Therese had loved me, but had I made her happy? I’d never know. I couldn’t go back and change the man I’d been for her, but I didn’t want to be that man again.

  Was I capable of better? I wanted to think so.

  The night Ava had been sick, Heather had said, “I’m a good mother. I don’t have to prove myself to you. I don’t require your approval. If you’re looking for someone who will tiptoe around your moods, that’s not me.”

  Good. I wanted to know when I crossed a line.

  But did Heather need a man like me in her life? I wasn’t asking myself if I was good enough for her. My ego was too robust for such a question.

  There was no denying, though, that we were very different people. Was a traditional man with relationship PTSD a good fit for a modern woman with a child?

  A child.

  Fuck.

  Heather had been right to not give the stuffed baby wolves to Ava. I had no business getting involved in that child’s life until—I corrected myself—unless things worked out with Heather.

  “I want to see you again,” I’d said.

  “Then you’ll find a way to make it happen.”

  Yes, I will.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  * * *

  JUDY

  It wasn’t like Alethea to avoid her.

  Since texting her hadn’t gained Judy more than evasive responses, Judy had executed escape plan 19—playdate bait and switch. She’d asked her mother if she could go over to her friend Grace’s house after school, receiving an easy yes since it was something she’d done many times in the past.

  Her mother didn’t need to know she and Grace weren’t friends anymore.

  Friends don’t gloat that their family tree came out better than yours.

  Friends don’t laugh along with everyone else when you cry at school.

  Judy told her driver she saw Grace in her backyard. With a quick promise that she’d text him when she wanted to go home, she took off down Grace’s driveway, then between the houses, and hid in the bushes. Only then did she text Win to meet her. He lived a few houses down from Grace, and although they’d been friends for years, Judy wasn’t supposed to play with him, since he’d been caught shoplifting a few months earlier.

  He was also not supposed to leave his house because he’d punched a boy who happened to be the son of someone his father worked with. He’d only done it to stop a boy from calling Judy a crybaby at recess.

  Unlike Grace, he was a good friend.

  Sure, he got into fights at school, but if his parents hadn’t wanted their son to constantly get into scraps at school, they shouldn’t have named him Winston. He’d been Winnie the Pooh to the school bullies ever since preschool, and that taught a person to stand up for themselves.

  His mother had no desire to control him. She worked out, went shopping, and worked out again. As far as Judy could tell, that was all she did.

  Win thought she might also be dating her personal trainer.

  Disgusting.

  His father traveled for work all the time, but Win thought that was a good thing.

  “All clear,” Win said from the driveway.

  Judy stepped out. “I ordered an Uber. He should be here any minute.”

  “Hey, Grace is looking at us through the window. Should I flip her off?”

  Judy turned and frowned at her ex-friend. “No, don’t waste the energy. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Win jogged down the driveway beside Judy to keep up. “Aren’t you worried she’ll out us?”

  Without glancing back, Judy said, “She won’t. I already told her not to mess with me again.”

  “Didn’t she apologize?”

  “She did.”

  “But you’re still mad?”

  Judy spun on him. “She laughed—laughed when I was crying. I’m not mad. I’m done with her.”

  “Then why did we meet in her yard?”

  “So she could see how done I still am.”

  Win whistled. “I’m glad I’m not a girl. Brian and I are
already friends again, and I punched him.”

  “Brian? He laughed at me too.”

  “But he got punched for it, so it’s done.”

  Shaking her head, Judy checked her phone. “My ride canceled. Now what do we do?”

  Win pointed at the car that was pulling up beside them. “Isn’t that your father’s bodyguard?”

  Marc Stone. Judy’s shoulders slumped. “He owns a whole security company, but yes, he works for my father.”

  The passenger-side door opened. Dark suit. Dark glasses. Built like a football player. Marc could intimidate simply with his presence, but Judy had grown up with him in the background. “Hi, Marc,” Judy said in resignation.

  He removed his glasses, pocketed them, and folded his arms across his chest. “We’ve talked about this, Judy.”

  Judy rolled her eyes and sighed. “Before you pat yourself on the back for finding me, I was on my way to your office.”

  “Is that the tone I use when I speak to you?” Marc asked in his quiet, firm way.

  “No,” Judy said in a much more respectful tone. Marc had always been kind to her, but having him around was like having another parent in the mix. “Sorry.”

  “Good to see you, Win,” Marc said.

  “You too, sir,” Win replied. Judy was pretty sure Marc was Win’s fantasy father. He looked a person in the eye when he spoke to them, seemed genuinely interested when they spoke, and didn’t take crap from anyone.

  “I thought you were grounded at home.”

  “I am, but . . .” Win nodded toward Judy.

  Marc’s gaze returned to Judy. “If you wanted to go to my office, why didn’t you simply ask to?”

  Judy looked away. “I wanted to see Aunt Alethea—alone.”

  “Why?” Marc pushed off the car and walked to just in front of Judy, crouching so their eyes were level. “You can talk to me, Judy.”

  When Judy didn’t answer, Win said, “You’re going to make her cry again.”

  “Again?” Marc sounded concerned this time. “What’s going on?”

  Feeling cornered, Judy said, “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Win, thanks for trying. Marc, I’m ready to go back to prison.”

  “Prison? You mean home?”

  “Same thing.”

  “Really?” Marc straightened and cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure there are a lot of free people who would love to switch places with you.”

  “Let them,” Judy snapped. “Then maybe I could finally do what I want to.”

  “What do you want to do?” Marc asked.

  Judy blinked back tears. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Told you,” Win said as he gave Judy’s back an awkward pat.

  “I definitely won’t understand if you don’t explain it to me.”

  “I want to see Alethea,” Judy said firmly. “I know she knows something. Why won’t she tell me?”

  “What? Ask me. I might know the answer.”

  “No, I asked her not to tell anyone.”

  “I’m her husband. She tells me everything.”

  Judy would bet she didn’t. Like a magician, Alethea lived among smoke and mirrors. “Did she tell you she’s pregnant?” Judy regretted asking when she saw Marc’s face go white.

  “Pregnant?” Then he smiled and slapped his thigh. “That explains a lot.”

  “You’re not mad?” Adult relationships still often baffled Judy.

  “I love Alethea and all her layers. No, I’m not mad.” His grin grew as he spoke. “I’m going to be a father. A father.” He shook his head as if still trying to wrap his head around the wonder of it.

  Marc would be an amazing dad. He was strong and brave, and, like Judy’s father, he had a softer side to him that had made him part of so many of her memories, like teaching her how to ride a bike without training wheels. Her mother’s hovering had made Judy nervous, and Judy hadn’t wanted to fall in front of her father. Marc had shown her how to take the wheels off herself. He’d picked her up each time she’d fallen. When she’d skinned her knee and had been just about to give up, he’d said, “You know what fear is? It’s God’s way of saying try harder.” That and a Band-Aid had been enough to get Judy right back on her bike. She’d ridden her bike with confidence after that day. As much as it could be annoying that Marc was always in the background, it was also reassuring. “What did you want to see Alethea about?”

  “I need help with a project for school.” It was the truth, just not the whole truth.

  Marc took out his phone and sent a text off, smiling as he did, then returned his attention to Judy. “Hang on.” His phone binged with a message. He read it, and another huge grin spread across his face. “You’re right; she’s pregnant. I really am going to be a father.”

  Win lowered his voice and asked Judy, “So do you want to try again tomorrow?”

  “No. I’ll find another way.” Judy watched Marc reduce to a giddy mess. He stepped away, but his happy exclamations carried.

  “Do you think your parents were that happy when they found out about you?” Win asked in a subdued voice. “I don’t think mine were.”

  Judy put an arm around his shoulders. Her problem could wait. “I’m sorry, Win.”

  “My dad said if I screw up one more time, he’s sending me to a boarding school in Europe.”

  Turning him toward her, Judy said, “Is that why you stole the watch?”

  Win shrugged. After a moment, he said, “I’m sorry you got a bad grade on your family tree.”

  “I don’t care about the grade,” Judy said. “I didn’t want to hand it in because it wasn’t done. I thought I would have something to add to it.”

  “Judy,” Marc said, interrupting, “Alethea wants to talk to you.”

  Judy took the phone and guessed at what her aunt wanted to hear. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything to Marc.”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have told him. I was waiting for the right time, but I’m glad he knows.” She let out an audible breath. “Marc said you were coming to see me.”

  “You found my dad’s family, didn’t you?” Judy demanded.

  “I did.”

  “I knew it. And?”

  “And I don’t like what I’ve discovered so far. My gut tells me they’re hiding something, and my gut is never wrong.”

  “You were supposed to tell me when you found them, and we were supposed to watch them together—to make sure they’re okay.”

  “You’re nine, Judy. I know you feel like you’re old enough to handle anything we might find, but you’re not.”

  Judy handed the phone back to Marc.

  Even though he was still beaming, he did notice she wasn’t. “Are you okay, Judy?”

  All she’d wanted to do was make her father smile, but all she’d done so far was cry when she’d handed in an eraser-torn-up project, cry again in front of her class, break up with her best friend, get Win in trouble, and spill a secret. Not okay at all.

  Judy shook her head, turned, and gave Win a hug. “Don’t go away to boarding school.”

  He hugged her back but didn’t promise he wouldn’t.

  Marc held the back door of his car open. “Come on, Judy. Go home, Win.”

  Win nodded and headed back toward his house.

  As they pulled away from the curb, Judy said, “Do you have to tell my mother about this?”

  “It’s my responsibility to keep you safe, Judy. You’re too young to understand that the world is a dangerous place.”

  “Being nine sucks.” Judy slumped in the back seat.

  Marc glanced back at her through the rearview mirror. “That bad?”

  “Worse.”

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  After letting out a long sigh, Judy did just that. She told him all about the project, her father’s reaction to it, hiring Alethea, crying, Grace’s betrayal, Win’s situation, and how instead of making things better, she was afraid she’d made them worse. “Now I’m probably grounded to
o.”

  “Sounds like a mountain of problems to me.”

  “It is.”

  “Do you know how to conquer mountains?”

  “No.”

  “One step at a time. Is there anything you can make better? Like with your friend Grace?”

  “She laughed, Marc.”

  “Everyone makes mistakes. Maybe even you. Could you have handled it differently?”

  “I could have punched her. Win says that works better.”

  Marc coughed. “You know that’s not what I meant. Did you tell her she hurt your feelings?”

  “I told her she was dead to me. Is that the same thing?”

  He made a pained face. “Not really. Why not call her and see if she feels as bad as you do about what happened?”

  Judy took out her phone but didn’t call Grace. “Marc, why don’t you get mad at Alethea when she keeps things from you?”

  He sighed. “Everything Alethea does, she does out of love. But you’re asking because you’re angry with her, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not too young to hear whatever she found, Marc. It’s not fair that she won’t tell me.”

  “Do you believe she loves you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that she loves your family?”

  “Yes,” Judy said with less patience.

  “Then trust her, Judy. You won’t be nine forever. Let her protect you while you are.”

  How could she argue with that? “Thanks, Marc.” Judy glanced down at her phone. “I don’t hate Grace, but she hurt me.”

  “Tell her all that.”

  “I don’t know if I can trust her.”

  “Then proceed with caution.”

  Judy nodded. “What about Win? I don’t want him to go away to school.”

  Marc drove without speaking for a few minutes, then he said, “Judy, all you can do is be a friend to him. That starts with not encouraging him to sneak out of his house to be with you.”

  “Yeah.”