A Crazy Kind of Love (17 page)

But it hadn’t changed anything.

Mama died anyway.

And took what was left of Jo’s faith with her.

Sighing, she glanced at an older man, hunched in one of the dark green plastic chairs, his gaze fixed on the muted television mounted high in one corner of the room. Hospital waiting rooms were hideous places. Crowded with tension, draped in mourning, and shaded with shattered fragments of hope.

Not to mention the smell.

“We should have called Mike sooner,” she said.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

Jo shot her a look. “You called
me
.”

Sam wrapped her arms around her own middle and hung on. “That’s different and you know it. Mike’s out of town.”

True. Jo nodded abruptly and changed the subject. Didn’t matter when they had called Mike. The point was, she was on her way here now. She could only
hope that by the time Mike arrived, they’d have some good news for her.

“He’ll be okay,” Sam said again, and Jo wasn’t sure who her sister was trying to convince. Then she jerked when a disembodied voice murmured over the loudspeaker before dissolving into silence again.

“Of course he will,” Jo said, playing the game because to do otherwise was just unthinkable. She’d keep her fears and her doubts to herself. As she always had. “Where’s Grace?”

Sam inhaled sharply. “She went to try and find out some information.”

Jo snorted. “They won’t tell her anything. She’s not family.”

“Actually,” Sam said, following her sister as Jo headed for the heavy door separating the waiting room from the inner sanctum of the emergency department. “They will. I told the doctor that Grace is our stepmother.”

Jo skidded to a stop and shot her a look. “What?”

Sam glared right back and her voice was just a notch below hysterical. “Seemed easiest at the time. I didn’t feel like explaining that my father and his girlfriend were on a date when his heart went wonky.”

Taking a deep breath, Jo nodded and reminded herself that she was the oldest here. It was her responsibility to make sure the family stuck together. To make sure they all made it through this scary night.

No matter what she believed.

“Right. It’s fine.” She dropped one arm around Sam’s shoulders and said, “So, let’s go join our new
mom and see if we can find out what’s going on back there.”

Lucas drove like a crazy man and she would have thanked him for it if she could have gotten her voice to work. She appreciated the fact that he hadn’t asked questions. He’d just helped her throw clothes into the suitcase and then get to the car and get moving.

Now, the first pale streaks of dawn were just sneaking across the sky, chasing the last few stars into hiding. The world felt hushed, as if the planet itself had taken a breath and held it. On her right, the ocean shone like black glass and the roar and sigh of it felt like a heartbeat.

The car’s headlights gleamed in twin white slashes in front of them on the nearly deserted coast road. Lucas steered them around a sharp curve and the sweet little convertible hugged the road like a Formula One race car.

Mike’s heart ached.

Her stomach spun.

And her breath seemed clogged in her chest.

Change.

It kept coming back to slap at her and she didn’t like it one damn bit.

Never had.

When she was twelve and got her first period,
everything
changed. She went from being thought of as a first baseman to a “girl.” Okay, the upside of that was pretty good, on the whole, but she’d still lost a piece of who
she was. Then when she was sixteen, her mother, Sylvia, got sick. Of course, at first, no one knew
how
sick.

But slowly, things changed. Soon, Mama wasn’t waiting in the kitchen with a snack and a smile when Mike got home from school anymore. Most days, she was taking a nap or sitting in a chair with her rosary in one hand and the TV remote in the other.

Naturally, Mama’d refused to see a doctor at first, claiming that there was no reason for that—it was just the “change” hitting her hard.

Change.

An ugly word, even back then.

But it wasn’t
the
change, it was cancer, which brought along its own version of change. And by the time it was discovered, it was too late to do anything but fill up the days and weeks with as many memories as they could.

The whole family had shifted, as if they were all trying to fill in the hole Mama’s illness had made in the family circle.

Jo came home from college, Sam too, eventually. Papa spent more and more time taking long drives alone and Mike . . . Mike ran.

She sighed, propped one hand on the car’s window frame, and held her aching head up as her brain continued to spin through the years, back and forth with a wild, frenzied pace.

All the running she’d done and she never got far, thanks to the native-drum system operating in and around Chandler. She’d grown up in that little town and everyone there knew who she was and where she belonged.

Even when she hadn’t known the answer to that question herself.

So they’d called the cops.

Called Papa.

Called Jo.

And every time Mike ran, they brought her home again.

Until that last time—

She shuddered and sucked in air.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Sure. She was great. Racing home in the dawn, sitting beside a man who’d just taken her body to all kinds of new places, running to find out if Papa was alive or dead.

Yeah.

Fine.

She’s out getting laid while Papa’s at home maybe—

“Damn it, I should have been there,” she blurted, lancing the pool of guilt inside and letting the venom spew.

“What?”

She turned her head to look at him. In the glow of the dashboard lights, his profile was harsh and lined with shadows. His hands were fisted on the steering wheel and he never shifted his gaze to her. Thankfully. Since on her right was the ocean and a damn steep cliff.

“I said I should have been there when Papa needed me.”

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

He took the next curve at a speed way higher than the one recommended by the road builders. Mike grabbed hold of the window frame with one hand and checked her shoulder strap with the other.

“I said bullshit,” he repeated, jaw tight, eyes narrowed. “Don’t start beating yourself up over this. Sometimes shit just happens and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

Mike just stared at him for a long minute. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and blinked when the wind icing through her open window slapped it right back across them again. What kind of “shit” had happened to
him
?

For two months they’d known each other and it was only now she realized that though she’d told him practically everything about
her
family, she knew next to nothing about
his
.

“Speaking from experience?” she asked.

“You could say that.”

“Want to talk about it?” She shifted a look at the darkness stretched out ahead of them.

“No, I don’t. Especially now.”

“What’s that mean?”

“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ wasn’t clear?”

“What’re you so tense about?
I’m
the one with an emergency, remember?” She turned in her seat to face him and watched as his jaw tightened even further. Much more and his face might snap. “For God’s sake, I thought you might want to talk. Keep my mind off what’s happening with—”

He shook his head and snorted. “I don’t want to talk.
Not looking to share and bond here. Just because we had sex, doesn’t make us a
couple
.”

“Screw you.” Mike reared back as if he’d hit her. All those hours with him. Intimate, open hours where she’d given him more of herself than she’d ever given to anyone. And apparently, they’d meant
nothing
.

Good to know.

God.

She felt more alone than she ever had and she was sitting practically on top of him. Damn little cars. No room to move away. Nowhere to go to escape.

Nowhere to run.

He slammed one hand against the steering wheel. “Look, I’m . . . sorry, okay? Didn’t mean to—”

“Oh,” she said tightly, “don’t back off now. I think you said
just
what you mean.”

“You’re upset and—”

“Ya think?”

“I’m just trying to say—”

“Oh, trust me, you’ve said enough, Rocket Man.”

He looked at her, and in the dashboard lights, his eyes were shadowed, dark and dangerous. “You want to unload on me because you’re worried—”

“You think
this
is unloading?”

He shot a look at the road, then his gaze was on her again. “You don’t know me.”

“And don’t want to.”

“But I know you.”

“Wow, psychic, too.” Anger churned, blurred her vision, cut off her air.

“I know you well enough to know you’re mad at me so you don’t have to be mad at your father.”

“For a smart man,” she said quietly, “you’re an idiot. You should really shut up now.”

“You’re the one who wanted to talk.”

“Not anymore.”

“Tough shit.”

She laughed harshly, and it scraped her throat, making her eyes tear. That’s what was bringing tears. Not him. Not hurt. Pain. “Gee, such an intelligent comeback. You must be a scientist.”

“Damn it!”

His shout startled her.

She flicked a glance at the road and screamed,
“Lucas!”

“Shit!” He stepped lightly on the brake, pumping it as he turned the wheel into the curve in the road. The tires squealed against the pavement and sounded like a terrified scream.

Mike grabbed hold of the window frame and squeezed, fingers white, breath strangling in her chest, eyes wide as the white guard rail loomed ever closer.

The sleek little car responded like a dream, narrowly missing the rail that wouldn’t have been nearly strong enough to keep them from plummeting down the side of a cliff.

When he had the car under control again, he pulled in a deep breath, dropped their speed and drove on. “That was too close.”

“Too much talking, not enough concentrating.”

“Damn it, Mike. You don’t understand.”

“Don’t want to, either.” Her insides went cold and stiff. Her heart ached and what was probably a good
dose of self-pity was already setting up shop in one corner of her soul. Fine. She’d deal with it later.

“Just shut up and drive, okay?”

Lucas dropped her off at the hospital.

He watched her drag her suitcase behind her as she walked away without a backward glance. His chest tight, he thought about following her. Grabbing her. Making her listen.

But what the hell could he say?

“No.” Better this way. Better that they both back off and try to get a little perspective.

Steering the car back out onto the street, he headed through the quiet town of Chandler, which was just beginning to wake up, and tried not to think. Hell, it’d be best if he could just wipe the last twenty-four hours from his memory.

But somehow, he couldn’t make himself want that.

What he’d found with Mike in those few hours had been better than anything he’d experienced in the last four years. Hell.
Five
years.

He drove down Main Street and noticed the lights on at the Leaf and Bean. He almost stopped for coffee, but he’d have had to be civil and, at the moment, that was asking for a little too much.

Damn it.

He shouldn’t have shut Mike out like that.

But it was instinctive.

He’d been keeping his life
his
life for so long now, he didn’t know if he
could
let anyone else in. Because
the last time he had, tragedy had taken a chunk out of him that he’d never really gotten back. And because he was so busy pulling back from her, he’d damn near sent them both over a cliff.

“Good job,” he muttered and scraped his hand over his face.

Once off Main Street, he made a left and passed the darkened movie theater on the way to the lake road. Lamplight glimmered in a few of the houses he passed and he welcomed each one. Nothing worse than feeling completely alone in the dark.

But then, hadn’t he
chosen
to be alone?

“Too damn early for self-examination,” he said firmly and squeezed the steering wheel tight enough to break it in two.

He worried about Mike.

About her father.

About what he’d done to her with a few harsh words.

But he quashed the beginnings of guilt. He’d already done enough of that to last a lifetime and he was done with it.

Above him, dawn lightened the sky into pale shades of rose and gold. On either side of the road, trees loomed close like silent sentinels watching him pass. He pulled the car into his drive, drove straight to the side of the house, and turned off the engine. Leaving his bags in the trunk, he headed around to the front door, steps dragging, mind racing.

All around him, nature was waking up.

He heard the ducks on the lake.

The birds in the trees.

The lap of the water against the shore.

And a too familiar voice.

Cold splintered inside Lucas and the jagged shards sliced at him. He felt as though he were breaking into pieces. He almost expected to rattle as he took first one step then another, forcing himself to move forward even when everything in him was telling him to leave. Get back in the car and drive away.

He rounded the corner of the house and stopped dead.

“Justin.”

The man and woman sitting on the front steps turned to look at him. The woman, a tall redhead, with loose curls flowing down her back, stood up slowly and moved to stand in front of his brother in a protective gesture that was unmistakable.

“Hello, Lucas,” Justin said and reached for the woman’s hand, pulling her back to his side. “You really should’ve answered those e-mails.”

Lucas swallowed back the rising tide of fury that was nearly choking him. His gaze locked on the twin he hadn’t seen in four years and his hands curled into fists at his sides.

In the first, gentle light of dawn, Justin looked hideous. His face was drawn, his eyes deeply shadowed, and his clothes were hanging on him as if they’d been made for a much bigger man. Quickly, Lucas looked at the woman, and even in the soft light, he saw and noted the glint of battle in her narrowed green eyes.