All of You (18 page)

So this is how it ends… Strange, since he’d been pretty sure all his life that he was a coward, but he was curiously unafraid. In the back of his mind, he remembered Jessica, smiling at him on her office floor, her face soft, her hair flowing through his fingers. She’s gonna be so mad…

The gun fired, the loudest sound he’d ever heard in his life.

Santos jerked, light hitting his surprised face…and the spreading red stain at his middle. He looked down at Kyle, extending the gun again, already squeezing…

A second shot to his forehead and Santos flopped backward, unquestionably dead.

“Kyle!” Definitely Daniel’s voice, thank God, then Daniel’s body, hopping over him and crashing down at his side. “You crazy sonofabitch, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Kyle meant to answer him, but Daniel put both hands down on his chest and pushed down. Pain turned the light around them nearly black.

“Oh no you don’t, you stay awake, Kyle.” Daniel lifted his head and yelled, “Medic!”

The black edges didn’t leave his vision.

“Damn, you’re bleeding a lot.”

Kyle turned his head, fuzzily realizing that there were more people in the circle of light now. People running towards them, sending the dust swirling.

“Kyle, look at me!”

He tried, he really did, but the blackness spread.

And then there was nothing.

Walking into her office Sunday morning, Jessica tried to take the gloom and heartache off along with her coat. It didn’t work.

The night before, she’d painstakingly cleaned her office to obliterate any trace of what had happened, not that there was a lot to do physically except throw out the Chinese food bag and put her chair to rights. Which was about as effective as waving her hands to block out the moon. She could still see where her body had pressed into the soft carpet. See where their clothes—the few they’d bothered to take off—had lain. Still see where Kyle Lonnigan had changed her life…just before she’d run him out so he wouldn’t see what he’d done to her.

Except that he knew exactly what he’d done.

She wanted to hate him. To be angry at him for the things he’d said, for the way he’d walked out, but how could she? She’d made him angry on purpose. Belittled what was between them. If it hadn’t been the right thing to do, she’d hate herself.

But it was the right thing to do.

She was sure of that.

Mostly.

She wasn’t what Kyle was looking for, that much couldn’t be ignored. He wanted a family, for God’s sake. She wouldn’t have a clue what to do with one of those. Sure, she’d wanted one growing up, had gone a little crazy taking care of others to pretend she had one, but ultimately, she’d rather boil herself in lighter fluid.

Say she married him. Say they had their two-point-five kids and their furry little dog that never peed on the carpet or humped anyone’s leg. Would she really be happy?

Probably not, and that was the honest truth instead of gut-wrenching fear. She’d be waiting for it all to fall apart. Just like it always did. The other shoe always fell and if it didn’t fall by itself, she’d find a way to push it off its pedestal so the agonizing wait would end. That was the way of real life.

And speaking of real life, the idea of marrying Kyle and having that perfect white-picket-fence life was so ridiculous. She’d known the man for less than a month. You didn’t start talking marriage before you were even sure you were dating. They were both being maudlin, making the end of a brief affair sound like the end of life itself.

Well, it wasn’t. It just didn’t happen that way, she reassured herself, so the guilt wouldn’t slice so deep. People did not fall in love at the drop of a hat, like he said. How overworked were the divorce lawyers in this very firm because people were dumb enough to think they could? She’d simply cut this relationship off before it got anywhere. Before anyone got permanently damaged or promises got broken. He’d see that. He’d accept that, eventually.

Why couldn’t she?

She sat in her chair, placed her flattened palms over the surface of her desk and willed them to stop shaking.

“People do not fall in love in a few weeks,” she said out loud, closing her eyes and hoping the sound of the sentence would make her believe it. She repeated it four times, like a lucky charm.

It didn’t quell the denial in her heart.

“Just lust,” she tried. Lust that had been thoroughly satisfied. But repeating that didn’t help either, because she still wanted Kyle. Still craved him—the feel of him all around her, inside her, his voice and his laughter. God, just the smell of him would be enough to soothe her, but she’d used too many cleaning products and the faint traces of his cologne were gone for good.

She scoffed at herself and the pain in her heart, digging back into her papers to find an order to them. You didn’t look at a man and know he was going to change your life in an instant. And if by some chance you did, you didn’t let him. Her life was just fine without him. Happy. Content.

Lonely.

She shook off the stinging of her eyes and any further inclinations in the direction of Kyle Lonnigan. He didn’t bear thinking about because she couldn’t change anything. She had work to do. Work would carry her through. It always had before.

For several hours it did. Until she was too tired to read and the sun had made its way over the top of her building, leaving her in shadows. She sighed, admitting defeat that she’d have to turn on the light, and shifted her chair to reach for the lamp she’d stupidly set too far from her working position. The shift moved her foot and she gasped when she stepped on something hard. Grumbling, she pushed her chair back and found the small gold cufflink under her shoe.

Just like that, depression swamped her. She closed her eyes, bent to pick it up, running her fingertips over it even as she enclosed it in her fist. Plain, smooth gold. Simple, clean and masculine. So very Kyle.

Damn it.

“I do not know this man,” she said out loud again, not caring how crazy she must sound. Banishing the concept that she knew anything about him took priority.

But she did know him and her senses reminded her. She knew his scent, his taste. She knew his smile, the way it lopsided and made her stomach roll over in excitement. She knew the way he moved his body or his hands when he talked. The way his eyes danced when he said one thing and meant something special just for her. She knew the way his hand felt, when he held hers just to offer support. She knew the way his eyes looked when they were filled with love.

She gasped, the ache in her chest flashing with breath-stealing pain, her eyes opening wide while she dropped the cufflink with a clatter to the surface of her desk. She stared at it, wanting to be angry at the piece of metal too. But all it did was reflect her face back at her.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, running her mind in circles before she gave up. The only one thing to do with it was get it out of her sight as quickly as possible. She didn’t need any reminders of Kyle and she didn’t want any excuses to see him again later.

Just before she threw it out her window, she realized it was gold, which meant it was valuable. Throwing it away would be like stealing. Plus, he’d come looking for it.

Well, she wasn’t calling him, that was for sure. She didn’t know where he lived—another reason why this was not a relationship—which meant she’d have to go to the only physical link she had with him: Lucas.

“You look horrible,” Jessica said in shock when Lucas finally opened his front door.

He only blinked at her. Impeccable, permanently-pressed Lucas Lonnigan stood before her a changed man, and not for the better. His hair spiked in every direction, not with style but because it looked like he’d been pulling it that way. His jaw was darkly shadowed with a couple of days’ stubble, at least. Judging from the bloodshot eyes, an unbuttoned, barely-hanging-from-his-shoulders shirt and the slightly swollen look to his cheeks, he was fresh from his bed. She fought the urge to check the time on her watch. It couldn’t be any later than six, too early for even Lucas to be in bed.

“Did you want something?”

It took effort, but she managed to pull her jaw up and grappled around for her bearings. “No, actually, I have something for you.”

“Now isn’t a good time for any new contracts—”

“No, not that.” Her impossible-to-bury maternal instincts kicked in, reminding her stingingly of her childhood—and Kyle—but she couldn’t help it. The man was in a bad way. “Are you sick?”

He snorted, shifting his weight impatiently to his back leg. “You have no idea.”

She frowned at him.

He frowned back.

“You’re not going to tell me what’s wrong, are you?” she finally asked, guessing after his glare turned glacial that his patience was running thin.

“You had something for me?”

Fine. He wanted to look like his best friend had died and didn’t want to talk about it. No problem. She dug into the side pocket of her purse for the cufflink.

The small piece of metal kept evading her grasp, adding to her irritation. “If you didn’t want to be bothered, you shouldn’t have opened the door.”

“You’ve been knocking for eight minutes,” he said pointedly. “It was either open the door or call someone to come shoot you.”

She finally got her fingers around the damn thing, pulled it free and all but threw it at him. “Here. Give it to your brother.”

The annoying schmuck managed to catch it, bobbling it against his bare chest for a few seconds. He pinched the cufflink between thumb and forefinger, staring at it before raising enraged eyes to hers. “I haven’t slept in two days and you got me out of bed for a damned piece of jewelry?”

For just a second, she considered that this was a bad idea.

Then she remembered the alternative: taking it to Kyle herself. Lucas could rant and rave for all she cared, he was still the better of two evils. So she raised her chin and stared him down.

It was a short battle.

While she was intent on standing her ground, he simply reached out, grabbed her hand and shoved the cufflink into it. “Deal with it yourself, Jessica. I’m not getting involved.”

Then he backed up and slammed the door in her face.

“Lucas!” She pounded on the door until her hand hurt, yelling his name in indignation. Not that he would be fazed in the slightest. The only ones affected by this point were his neighbors. “Lucas Lonnigan, so help me, if you don’t open this door I’ll… I’ll…”

She’d what? Stand here and yell at a door? Give up and go home where her conscience would berate her, using this tiny piece of gold as a megaphone to tell her that she’d made the biggest mistake of her life?

The pressure behind her temples throbbed painfully. She quit knocking and laid her forehead on the wood, her hand splayed flat alongside. Tears burned her closed eyes and she sighed, hoping not to sob.

“Please, Lucas… I can’t…I can’t do this.” She doubted her voice was getting through the door. The words weren’t easy to say, she wasn’t even sure exactly what she meant. Was this dealing with Kyle…or managing without him? She squeezed her eyes tighter against the question.

Without a reply from Lucas, there was just her and the silence, which enjoyed its advantage by continuing to whisper regrets. Distantly, a phone rang inside, but only for a second before it was picked up. He’d never listen to her now. At least it was likely he was yelling at someone else.

She finally lifted her head and peeled herself away from the door. It had been stupid to come here. She’d just package the cufflink and mail it. It was what she should have done to begin with.

She tried to put her composure back together, ignoring the shaking of her hands, and turned away. She was already halfway down the stairs when Lucas barked her name.

He stood at the top of the steps, a jacket over his arm while he attempted to button his shirt. To her surprise, he looked worse. What little color he’d had was gone. The one button he’d managed was in the wrong hole. He gave up on the buttons and began shuffling down at full speed. “Come with me.”

“What? Where?” Watching him tromp down the steps was like watching a locomotive bearing down and not being able to move. Something was wrong.

Lucas took her arm when he hit the landing, pulling her along with him. He didn’t so much as miss a step. He wrenched open the building door and swept them both through it.

“Lucas! What’s going on?” She was fine demanding things, but she couldn’t quite make herself wrench away. “Who was on the phone?”

He finally let her go once they were next to a dark old-model SUV, then crossed around the front, unlocking the power locks as he did. She opened the passenger-side door with fingers that felt frozen. He’d already turned over the engine by the time she got the door closed behind herself.

“Talk to me, damn it. You’re scaring me.”

“It’s Kyle.” Two words and she didn’t want to hear any more. Not because she didn’t want to talk about him or think about him. Because she was terrified.

“Is he hurt?” she whispered, her throat tight.

“I don’t know.” He pulled into traffic, the truck hitting bumps as he recklessly off-roaded the potholes.

“So where is he?”

“Death Valley.”

She grabbed the sissy bar over the side window when he veered through a lane to get to the freeway entrance. Once her heart dropped back into her chest, she gasped a few times and asked, “What’s he doing in Death Valley?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that a police officer called to inform me that he was in a hospital up near there. He gave me directions and said it was important that I get up there immediately.”

“Which means he’s hurt.” That’s what it had to mean. Wasn’t it? They wouldn’t want to give very much information over the phone, since it would be a long trip. But would they have said something different if he were— She couldn’t finish the thought.

His jaw was so tense his teeth were probably cracking from the pressure and his knuckles were white where he gripped the steering wheel. She turned away, staring forward through the windshield, still holding on to the bar with her right hand, her left clutching the side of her seat. Now that they were on the freeway, he was driving smoothly, but it seemed so slow. How far did they have to go? How long would it take until they knew how bad it was? What if he was gone before they got there?

Trembling started deep inside her, old fears welling from parts of her heart that she’d imagined closed off. She closed her eyes, willing those terrors back into their box, but they wouldn’t. Emotions suffused her. Terror, abandonment, loss, loneliness, regret. She let go of her moorings to cross her arms across her belly and hold it in. It didn’t help.

She never meant to care about him. He wasn’t supposed to matter. If people didn’t matter, you wouldn’t miss them when they left, and everyone always left. Behind her closed lids, she could feel the traces of her earliest memory. The dampness of her sweater, the queasiness of hunger, the faint traces of a face she could never pull into focus, saying something she could never quite hear. Then the silence of the church, where she sat on the pew, holding a bear and waiting to be found. It might not even be a real memory, but it haunted all the same. Just like all the other thoughts she stifled as hard as she could.

The faces of all the kids she’d taken to heart, but who had all eventually left the foster home, never once looking back for her. How many of them remembered the girl who tried so hard to be needed, to be loved? She’d never know. She’d given up counting. And the couple who’d almost chosen her. She never thought about them, not even in the darkest hours. They’d seen something in her that had made them change their minds. Something everyone else seemed to know about. It was when her then foster-mother, Helen, had told her they weren’t coming back that she gave up caring. She’d boxed up her heart and buried it, never once missing it or all the hurt it held.