Fly with Me (15 page)

The laugh died
away, but the smile remained. The piercing look vanished so
quickly, almost as though it had never been there, and she actually
blinked. The intense man of mere minutes ago was gone, the
easy-going bloke leaning back against the car door the Simon of
which she was more familiar.

The Simon who
obviously had two sides, one of which she was certain was a whole
lot more canny than people appeared to give him credit.

“So,” he
drawled, “decided that whoever pissed you off deserved to be tossed
into the mud?”

~*~

The change of
tact threw her. She blinked, frowned a little. “I guess.”

“I’d say you
fixed them good and proper.” Lifting up his hip again, he dug her
mobile out of his pocket, handed it to her.

There was no
missing the way she took it rather reluctantly.

“Not sure how
waterproof it is.” He sought to put her at ease again. “Hitting the
ground like that then going into the water.” He watched her slide
it into the car door pocket.

So, she wasn’t
going to check it. Interesting.

Elissa peered
out the windscreen, looked out the driver’s window, stared ahead
again, took a deep breath.

Oh yeah, she
was nervous. It showed in the way her knuckles went white, the
sudden deep breath she took that made her breasts swell so
tantalisingly against her blouse.

The rain
drummed on the roof of the car and he was glad, for it gave him the
perfect excuse to be in close proximity with her. He had no idea
what was going on with her, but one thing he did know, he still
felt that pull of attraction regardless of the fact that she’d left
him that night at the hotel. One glimpse of the pain in her eyes
just minutes ago, her stiff posture, the sobs she choked back, and
he was lost. When that tear had escaped to slip down her cheek,
well hell, there was no way he could stop himself from wiping it
away.

It was time to
stop piss-farting around.

“Life hasn’t
gotten any better, has it, Lis?”

For several
seconds she just looked at the steering wheel, tracing it with one
fingertip. He didn’t think she was going to answer at first but
then she replied, just as quietly, “You do recognise me.”

“I never
forgot you.” It was the truth, he hadn’t, she’d invaded his dreams
several times.

“I’m sorry I
took off.” She still didn’t look at him.

“I understand
that you didn’t want to get involved, however lightly.”

“Taking off
seems to be my forte lately.”

He studied
her. “Are you on the run from someone?”

“A lot. A
couple.” She tipped her head back a little. “Myself.”

Interesting.
Also a little disturbing. “Are you in danger?”

“Depends on
your definition.”

“What’s your
definition?”

“I’m in danger
of losing myself.”

That sentence
just raised all kinds of red flags. Simon’s eyes narrowed a little
as he studied her anew. Patiently he let the silence stretch,
waiting for her to be the first to break it.

He didn’t have
to wait long.

She cast him a
sidelong glance. “You’re not running screaming.”

“Nope.”

“So I haven’t
frightened you off.”

“Takes a lot
to do that, sweetheart.”

“What if I
told you that I came here to find myself and I’m still
running?”

“Is someone
chasing you?”

“Yeah.”

“Do we need to
see Kirk?”

“The cop?”

“Yep.”

She shook her
head.

It was like
pulling teeth, the woman wasn’t coming easily. He’d cracked harder
nuts. Not as cute, true, but he’d had experience in shaking the
tree to make the nut fall and crack. He just had to crack this
tempting little nut.

Crack her
before she broke completely.
Like Becca did
. He made himself
more comfortable.

This time she
did look at him, her head turning as she sized him up. “You look
like you’re settling in for the long haul.”

“I am. Well,
until the rain eases a bit then duty calls.” He smiled easily. “So,
you’re on the run from a lot, a couple, and yourself. You’re being
chased. We don’t need to involve the cops. Intriguing.”

Her gaze slid
across his face, he could almost see her brain ticking, wondering
how much to tell him.
Tell me all
.

Finally, she
stated, “It’s nothing illegal.”

“Okay.” Big
relief.

“Nothing
that’s going to hurt Ash or Scott or anyone.”

He nodded.

“No one’s
going to come here with guns blasting, or a bikie gang wielding
whips and chains.”

“So not a BDSM
bikie gang, then.”

His comment
caught her by surprise, a laugh breaking free.

God, her laugh
was as clear as her singing voice, sweet, dulcet. He could listen
to her laugh all day. He grinned back at her.

“No.” Her eyes
twinkled. “No BDSM bikie gang.”

“Shame. That
would’ve been worth getting out of bed early to see.”

“I’m sure.”
She relaxed a little, shifting so that she was leaning back against
the door.

Her posture
was more at ease, fingers idly smoothing the hem of her pretty
blouse, arms more open.

Time to push
just a tiny bit. “So, finding yourself, huh?”

“I’m a late
starter.”

“Never too
late to start finding yourself. Sometimes people stay lost for a
long time.”

“Did you stay
lost for a long time?”

“I was one of
the lucky ones. I never got lost.”

“Huh.” She
looked down at her fingers, pleated the hem of her blouse, smoothed
it out, pleated it again.

“My sister got
lost.”

That caught
her attention. “You have a sister?”

“Had.” He
paused. The pain had gone, but the memories remained. Some good,
some bad.

“I’m sorry.”
She didn’t ask anything further, but she watched him steadily,
waiting.

He watched her
silently in turn.

Finally, she
asked hesitantly, “Was it an accident?”

“No.”

There was a
glimmer of compassion in her eyes. “Suicide.”

“Yes.”

“Was it long
ago?”

“Yes.”

“Was she…was
she that lost?”

“Very lost.”
His gaze didn’t waver from her face.

He watched as
she mulled over what he’d said, turning the words over in her mind,
thinking about it.

Suddenly, her
gaze shot back to him. “I’m not that lost.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not. I’m
not…” Her throat worked, her mouth opened and closed as she sought
to find the words, trying not to offend him, upset him.

“Suicidal?” he
asked gently.

“Yes.” She
inhaled, squared her shoulders, met his gaze again. “I’m not
suicidal. I’m not that lost. Not that kind of lost. Different.”

“Good to
know.” And it was. He didn’t really know her state of mind but he
knew she was stressed. Stressed to the max, really. “You are tense,
though. Anxious.”

“Not that
anxious!” She almost snapped it, her shoulders stiffening.

“I’m not
insinuating anything, Lis. You say you’re okay, I believe you. But
I can see you’re unhappy, I can see you’re troubled. I saw it at
the hotel, I saw it just now.” He smiled lazily. “Kind of hard to
think someone is happy when their mobile sails past your ear.”

She stared at
him for several seconds before exhaling, a tiredness creeping into
her tone and face as she slumped back against the door. “I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all
right.”

“No, it’s
not.” She rubbed her eye with the heel of one hand in a gesture
strangely vulnerable. “Are you always this nice?”

“I don’t know.
I’m just me.”

“Then you’re a
nice bloke.”

“Thanks.”

Reaching up,
she played with a stray lock of fair hair that had escaped the neat
bun at the back of her head. “I guess I’m just a little
sensitive.”

Here it came,
or maybe just a little of it. Whatever, he’d take it.

“I guess I’m
always kind of looking for criticism.”

He waited.

She looked
sideways at him. “I know what you’re doing.”

He arched an
eyebrow.

“You’re making
me talk by being quiet.”

He just
smiled.

“It’s not
going to work.”

He shrugged
easily.

Silence filled
the small car for several minutes.

The rain on
the roof continued to pelt down, but he could hear a distinct shift
of it, a slight lessening. It wouldn’t be long before visibility
would enable her to drive him back to the fire station.

Still he
waited, watching her with an easy attitude that was calculated to
make her feel safe, to make her feel that he was really listening
to her. He didn’t have to fake it.

Suddenly she
shifted her hands on the steering wheel, her gaze following her
fingers. “Life isn’t always sunshine and roses, is it?”

“No,” he
agreed quietly.

She lifted her
head to look out at the rain. “It’s not a nice story. To you maybe
I’ll seem silly, even ungrateful.”

“Everyone has
a story, Lis.”

“Okay.” She
took a deep breath. “Okay.”

When she fell
silent again, he thought that she had changed her mind, but then
she started speaking softly. “Since I can remember my parents have
had me at singing auditions, dance lessons, pretty much anything in
the entertainment industry. Mum had big plans for me. When I got a
little older she realised I wasn’t ever going to be graceful on the
dance floor. Kind of hard to have a little hippo tripping around
amongst the gazelles and take it seriously. So she concentrated on
my singing.”

Simon
listened, hearing the inflictions in her voice.

“Dad just went
along with her, he never took my side when I grew older and wanted
to do other things. It was always about keeping Mum happy. My older
brother never got a look in, poor old Moz. He never had much of a
chance to be involved in clubs and things because we were dragged
from pillar to post, from one city to another, state to state,
always chasing the audition that would win us the big time. We
changed so many schools that we never really had a chance to form
good friendships. It was Moz and me needing to finish high school
that finally forced us to settle in one place.” Elissa inhaled
deeply. “I met Ash at school and we bonded. Moz made some good
friends. Finally we had a normal life. Kind of. I had to keep going
to auditions in-between school. However, I never become that big
star, was always mediocre in comparison to other kids.”

Privately,
Simon thought Elissa was anything but mediocre. He sure as hell was
going to show her that later.

“I rebelled,
as all kids do, but Mum’s an expert at running the guilt trip.
Every time I mentioned doing something else she’d bring up how much
money they’d spent trying to get me a singing career, what they’d
given up for me, what Moz had given up for me. I’d always give in,
always feel so unworthy. I never realised how much more her dream
meant to her than her own daughter until the time Moz came home for
a weekend. I was pretty sick, high fever, sweats, burning throat,
the works, and Mum was standing over me yelling, still packing that
suitcase, so intent on flying me to the next state for a big
audition. I could hardly stand and she was practically shoving my
arms in my jacket. Moz was twenty, I was sixteen. He came into the
lounge and he blew it, and when Moz blows you take cover. He’s
built like a brick dunny. He grabbed my arm, yanked me behind him
and gave our mother a verbal blasting that I think the whole
neighbourhood heard. He threatened to report her for neglect if she
forced me to go to the audition while I was sick. Dad just
disappeared out the back, he wasn’t getting involved.” She pressed
her forefingers together. “That’s when I finally knew that Dad was
never going to be there for me.”

For that alone
the man deserved to have the shit beaten out of him, but Simon
managed to keep the anger from his tone. “What happened?”

“Mum was still
arguing while Moz took me out to his car and shoved me in the
passenger seat. He took me to hospital. I was in intensive care for
a week with pneumonia. The doctors weren’t sure if I’d make it at
first, it was so bad.”

Jesus. He had
to force down the anger flaring inside him at just the thought of
it, keep his expression pleasant, interested.

“When I got
better Moz took me to his place for awhile. Pissed Mum off, but
after what had just happened she couldn’t really do anything about
it. Guess she felt bad, after all, she’d almost lost her
investment.” The last was said with bitterness. “Moz sat me down,
told me to take a look at my life, decide what I wanted to do. I
kind of did take his advice, I started an after school job several
days a week, saved some money, but I still felt obligated to my
parents so I continued to do odd singing jobs. When I left school I
worked a variety of jobs, let the singing slide until the night Dad
told me that they were in danger of losing their house because they
didn’t have money to pay the mortgage. They’d spent all their money
on me, kept nothing for them. You can imagine I felt like shit, I
owed them so much, so I signed on with Calum Hackery, an agent Mum
found, and he got me more lucrative singing jobs. I was good enough
to sing in variety shows, at presentations, high society clubs and
parties, but I still didn’t break the big time. Didn’t stop Mum and
now Calum from riding me. Yeah, now even Calum was at me, telling
me I owed him, I owed my parents. If it wasn’t for any of them, I
wouldn’t have a career.” Elissa gave a bitter smile. “Some career.
I grew to hate singing at those clubs, smiling at all those people
who thought I was some star, watching Mum and Dad dress up to match
the people they wanted to mingle with, see them brag about their
talented daughter while there.”