Fugitive: A Bad Boy Romance (Northbridge Nights Book 2) (20 page)

“
H
e left
,” I told Terri through the phone. “Went to Seattle with Bianca and Kara. Just left.”

Terri hummed. “Should I be happy or upset for you?”

“Both,” I admitted. “I didn’t see it coming, though it makes perfect sense.”

“I’m coming over with wine and cupcakes,” Terri said. “Be there in an hour.”

An hour later, Terri showed up at my door with the promised goods. “You didn’t have to come,” I said. “It’s not like we broke up or anything, seeing as how we were never together in the first place.”

“You needed company, so here I am,” Terri said. “And you’re not getting rid of me because I plan to finish this bottle with you and crash on the couch.”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“Nope, day off.”

“Well then, come on in,” I gestured.

Terri strode inside and set the box of cupcakes on the counter. While she dug around for a corkscrew, I flipped on the TV and pulled up Netflix.

“So, when is he coming back?” Terri asked.

“He says within a week, but I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t want him to come back here just for me. His daughter is in Seattle, and she means everything to him.”

“If he says he’s coming back, it means you mean a lot to him too.”

I sank into my sofa and shrugged. “I don’t want to stand between him and Kara. If I wasn’t in the picture, he’d move there in a heartbeat. Kara would finally have a dad close to home. Someone she could just visit or call up, without taking a sixteen-hour road trip.”

“Babe, Kara isn’t a child anymore. I’m sure she understands that she can’t monopolize her father’s love and attention,” Terri said, popping open the shiraz.

“Why shouldn’t she? She lost out on thirteen years of time. She should be able to see her dad every single day, whenever she wants. She deserves that much, after all the shit that’s happened to her.”

“That’s not the way life works though, and I’m sure Kara won’t think that way,” Terri said, handing me a glass of wine. “She’s a good kid.”

“Kieran and I…We’re just a fling. With zero guarantees. I don’t want him to throw away his chance at happiness for me.”

Terri groaned. “It’s been two years. You two are
not
a fling, trust me.”

“We didn’t date or anything. I just visited him in prison,” I said.

“Yeah, visited him…flirted with him, brought him photos and cards and spent hundreds of hours driving up there just to talk to him…Don’t be so blind, Rachelle. You love him. We can all see that.”

“I wouldn’t call it love…”

“The denial is strong with this one,” Terri muttered, shaking her head. She took a sip of wine and then began browsing through the Netflix listings.

I couldn’t possibly be in love with someone I’d never even dated before. It was preposterous, right?

* * *

T
he next morning
, I dragged my ass to work despite a crushing hangover. I’d already taken two days off, and Selena was swamped covering for me. Between working full-time and taking night classes, I was on the verge of getting burnt out. Law was my everything though (ironic, considering my recent involvement with one hunky ex-con), and I’d stop at nothing to pursue my passion.

The drive to Northbridge gave me a lot of time to think. Too much time. Why had I visited Kieran for two years when I didn’t owe him anything? Sure, we shared some interesting conversations, but that was hardly enough to justify weekly road trips up to Maxfield. Were Bianca and Terri right? Did I really love Kieran? I did have a tendency to live in denial sometimes. And I knew I definitely cared deeply about the man. Why else would him leaving for Seattle feel like a stab to my chest? But love…love was something I reserved for my family and closest friends. He wasn’t either of those. And sleeping together once (on impulse), hardly justified the big ‘L’ word. Lust, maybe, but not love.

By the time I pulled up to Morgan and Associates, I was no better off resolving my inner turmoil.

“How was the reunion?” Selena asked. She was a nineteen-year-old intern Asher hired a few months ago to help lighten my workload. A ditzy brunette who talked way too much and had a propensity for gossip. “Did you two get it on?” she asked.

“A gentlewoman never kisses and tells,” I said, sliding into my seat. I turned on my PC and watched the screen boot up.

“Was he as good as you thought he’d be?” Selena continued. “A wildebeest in the sheets?”

“What sheets?” I said, shooting her a wink. “We did nothing between the sheets.”

“Ooh,” Selena cooed. “Naughty, naughty.”

“Please, my love life is nowhere close to being as naughty as yours.”

Halfway through the day, I was about to collapse from sleep deprivation when my phone began buzzing in my purse. Bianca’s name flashed across the screen and I pressed “answer”.

“Hey, Princess. Miss me?”

That voice. My weakness.

“Kieran.”

“We just got in. Thought I’d give you a call.”

“That’s good. Say hi to all of them for me,” I said, trying to sound more cheerful than I felt.

“What’s the matter? Why so gloomy?” Kieran asked.

“Just hungover,” I admitted. “Terri came over last night and we stayed up late chatting.”

“About me?”

“You wish.” I looked at the clock. It was almost three p.m. Two more hours to go. Then I could go home and crash. “I have to get back to work now.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were avoiding me.”

“I’m at work,” I said. “I took two days off and I have a lot to catch up on.”

“Okay, Rach. Talk to you later then.”

“Bye, Kieran.”

After I hung up, I felt bad for being so brusque with him. Selena poked her head into my personal space and grinned. “He miss you already?”

“Get back to work, Selena,” I chastised. “Those depositions won’t file themselves, you know.”

* * *

B
y the end
of the day, I felt like a steam-rolled squirrel. After unlocking the front door, I dove for the couch and buried my face in a cushion. Terri had long since left, but she left a note on the fridge that read, “Turn that frown up-side down, girl. Xoxo, Terri.”

I wasn’t even sure why I was still stuck in a rut. I mean sure, the sex was phenomenal. The best I’d had in years. But surely that didn’t warrant this level of moping? He said he’d be back within the week. I just needed to be patient. I’d waited two years, I could wait another seven days. But then something inexplicable punched me in the throat. A fistful of jealousy crushed me out of nowhere, and I forced myself to curl up into a ball. For the first time in months, I began biting my nails, a nervous habit that came and went ever since I was a kid.

He’s going to leave you for Kara. You’ll always play second fiddle to his daughter, and you shouldn’t expect anything more.

It was such a stupid, bitter thought, but it quickly spiraled out of control. The initial idea transformed into a vicious and destructive frustration that left me reeling with hurt. He didn’t even bother telling me that he was leaving. What would stop him from leaving me again if Kara ever got into any trouble? He’d break the law for Kara. What had he ever done for me? Aside from kidnapping me and dragging me into his messes…

Kieran’s priorities and responsibilities lay with his daughter, not me. We weren’t serious or anything, so why should he care about my feelings? Kara deserved to have her dad.

When my phone rang again around nine, I saw Bianca’s name on the Caller ID and hit ‘Ignore’. I couldn’t handle another conversation with Kieran tonight. My nerves were too frazzled, and my entire body begged for sleep.

My stomach growled and I felt nauseous. Fishing out some old nachos and a brick of cheddar, I made myself some quick nachos before calling it a night.

“
S
o Meaty Hooks
clawed at me with his disgusting yellow nails and I dodged him. But just barely. He left some pretty deep gashes. I had to get five stitches, and he was thrown in the SHU.”

“Did he really eat his victims?” Kara asked, bug-eyed. She clutched her fuzzy throw to her chest and gulped down apple juice.

“Stop telling Kara those stupid stories,” Bianca admonished. She turned to Kara, who was biting her nails. “Your dad was locked up in a minimum security joint. With a bunch of white collar criminals. He’s just making up shit to scare you.”

“Bianca, you weren’t there,” I said. “Meaty Hooks is very real and
very
dangerous.”

“Sure, whatever you say. Did Rach pick up yet?”

I shook my head. I’d been trying to call her for an hour now, but she must’ve turned her phone off. “She said she was hungover earlier. Must’ve gone to bed,” I reasoned.

“Hungover? Because of you?” Bianca snorted. “That chick got it bad.”

“I told her I’d be back in a week,” I said. “I don’t know why she went off and got drunk.”

“But you’ve only just got here,” Bianca said, handing me a big bowl of vanilla ice-cream. “Leaving so soon?”

“I need to get a job. I think I’m going to call up my brother and see if he can help me out.”

“Good idea. What about Rachelle? You going to propose to her or what?”

“Bianca, I’m not just going to
propose
to her out of the blue. We’re not even officially dating.”

“Ki, she’s stuck by you for two years. Dating or not, that’s some commitment right there.”

“I know. I’m going to make it worth her while. I just need to be able to stand on my own two feet first,” I said. “Right, Kara?”

“Mmhm,” Kara replied, focused on her cartoon. “Auntie Rachelle deserves the best and nothing less.”

“See, my daughter knows me best.” I grinned.

“Just don’t wait too long,” Bianca cautioned. “Or she’ll get snapped up by some other lucky fella.”

“Trust me, I’m the only ‘fella’ she wants,” I said, smirking. I hoped my words were true.

The next week flew by. I walked Kara, Misty and Tyler to school every morning so Bianca could spend some quiet-ish time with her youngest, Dylan. During our before-school chats, I learned a lot more about the twins and the social hierarchy that existed at Elmwood High. Preppy rich kids at the top, misfits, loners and orphans at the bottom. Apparently bullying was a huge problem there and Kara often bore the brunt of it due to her condition. Misty and Tyler belonged somewhere in the middle. They didn’t bother anyone, so no one bothered them. Though all three of them maintained stellar report cards (As and Bs across the board), Kara had to work three times harder than her siblings in order to learn the same materials. I wished I could help her with her homework and listen to her talk about her day. Unfortunately, I was a huge slacker in high school myself, and barely graduated with a C-average. I was no role model for these kids, and I didn’t pretend to be one. All I could do was lend them my ear and offer some life advice. On Wednesday, I took it upon myself to have a heart-to-heart chat with their Principal Heathrow. I explained, in no uncertain terms, that he would protect my baby girl or he’d make an enemy out of an ex-con who did twelve-years in the joint. Within minutes, the spineless and insipid paper-pusher transformed into my personal yes man. I felt smug as hell.

Bianca did a fine job raising my daughter and her own children. Most single moms could not say the same. Though they still struggled some days, they were happy, and they had each other’s backs. Misty and Tyler tried to shield Kara as much as possible, defending her at every turn. I had to give them props for that. As much as I wanted to be with Kara, I didn’t doubt for a second that the best place for her was with Bianca. Bianca was her mother: the one who changed her diapers, taught her how to walk, talk and feed herself. Trisha was her birth mother, nothing more. I wanted to be a more active parent now that I was out of prison, but these things took time. Kara understood that I belonged in Northbridge, but that I would come visit her at least twice or three times a month, and on all major holidays and occasions. I pinky swore it.

By the end of the week, after: two pillow fights, three movie nights, seventeen home-made meals, ten games of Monopoly, and twenty-eight rounds of Battleship, I said my farewells to Kara, Bianca, the twins and Dylan. When I boarded the Greyhound (which Bianca graciously paid for), there wasn’t a single dry eye left in the family. I gave Kara a bear hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her skin was wet with tears and it broke my heart that I had to leave. “Call me, Dad,” she said in a broken voice.

“Think about starting up a YouTube channel, Uncle K, you could make big bucks off sponsored ads,” Tyler reminded me.

I laughed and nodded. I also promised to buy a phone as soon as possible so I could call them all the time. Even though they explained that teens nowadays much preferred texting and Facebook. Tyler even showed me something called Instagram, and said I could share pictures of my adventures on that site. I had to include something called hashtags though, in order for them to get discovered by other people. They helped me register for all kinds of accounts and then wrote down the usernames and passwords on a hand-drawn goodbye card. I was touched by how much they loved me, and promised I’d log on every day to ‘like’ and comment on their posts.

My week-long sojourn had been fun, but it was time to rebuild my life.

Step one: Tell Rachelle I loved her and that I was in it for the long haul.

Step two: Pray to God she felt the same way.

Step three: Get a job and save up for an engagement ring.

I’d known for months now that Rachelle was the one and only for me. Now, I just needed to make sure that I was the one and only for her too.