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Authors: Donna Marie Rogers

Meant To Be (14 page)

BOOK: Meant To Be
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"I told you, he means nothing to me,” she insisted as she leaned his crutches against the wall. “We were seeing each other, but it wasn't serious. Maybe he thought there was more to it, I don't know. But I don't want to cause him any trouble, Wade, and I mean it."

"Promise me you won't see him again and I'll think about it."

The thought alone caused her throat to swell up so thick she could barely swallow. Dammit, why did Wade have to come looking for her? Why couldn't he have just stayed on the west coast and left her the hell alone? He'd already taken so much from her it wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. But he had her over a barrel and he knew it, the bastard. He was right about that; he knew her better than just about anyone. And she'd thought she knew him, too.

"Get real. You really think he'd call me again after tonight?” Jessica scoffed. Inside she was dying. She could only hope that once Wade left, Garrett would give her a chance to explain.

* * * *

Garrett slammed the front door closed behind him and stalked through the living room into the kitchen. He yanked open the fridge and grabbed himself a beer. His hands shaking with restrained rage, he drained half of it in one long pull, then set the bottle down with more force than necessary. Hands braced on the edge of the counter, he hung his head in shame.

Jesus, was he the biggest schmuck in the world or what? She'd told him, more than once, she didn't want anything from him but sex. And like the idiot he was, Garrett had fallen for her. He'd imagined having kids with her, spending the rest of his life with her. He let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. Hell, she was probably laughing her head off right now. She and that smarmy prick she'd been ready to mount when Garrett walked in.

He picked up his beer and drained the rest in another long pull.

Uncle Luke came up from the basement and padded barefoot into the kitchen. He set a glass in the sink before glancing over at Garrett. He frowned. “Son, you don't look so good. Want to talk about it?"

"No.” Garrett tossed the empty bottle in the recycling bin and grabbed himself another.

"You and Jessica fighting already?"

Garrett cracked it open and tilted the bottle to his lips. After a couple of gulps, he said, “What part of ‘no’ don't you understand?"

Undaunted, Uncle Luke leaned back against the sink and crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever it is, you'll feel better after a good night's sleep."

Without sparing his well-meaning uncle a glance, Garrett polished off the rest of his beer, grabbed his keys off the counter and strode toward the front door. “I'm going out."

"Garrett, I don't want you driving anywhere in your—"

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about it.” He stormed out the front door, climbed in his truck and took off down the road.

Ten minutes later he pulled into Krupp's parking lot. Garrett swiped his fingers through his hair and leaned his head back against the headrest. Christ, he felt like the biggest damn loser in all of Wisconsin. Maybe after a couple more beers and a game or two of pool he'd wind down enough to head home and get some sleep. But right now he needed to get his temper under control and settle the hell down.

As he approached the bar, the cloying scent of one too many perfumes mingled with a thick cloud of cigarette smoke, nearly choking him. Garrett wrinkled his nose as he dug in his wallet for a twenty.

"Hey, gorgeous, didn't expect to see you tonight."

Garrett slapped the bill on the bar and attempted a smile. “Hey, Mandy. I'll take a bottle of Bud and five bucks worth of quarters for the table."

Mandy gave him a considering look as she cracked open his beer. “You feeling all right?” she asked as she set the bottle in front of him. She slid the twenty off the bar and walked over to the register. When she returned, she set his change on a paper coaster, then propped her elbows on the edge of the bar, leaning forward to give him a great cleavage shot.

Garrett tilted the bottle back and took a healthy pull off it. He eyed the view she offered, moved his gaze upward and couldn't hold back a smile as she did the whole lick her lips thing. Mandy had been flirting with him for so long he didn't even pay attention to it anymore. She was a pretty enough, he supposed, and certainly had a great rack, but for whatever reason he'd never felt enough of an interest to pursue her. Garrett had been called a lot of things, but no one had ever accused him of taking advantage of a woman.

"I'm good. Just need to blow off a little steam.” He winked at her and slid his change off the bar. “I'm sure I'll need another beer in about ten minutes, if you don't mind."

She tossed her shoulder-length auburn hair and treated him to her perfected come-hither smile. “For you, anything."

Garrett shook his head, grabbed his beer, and headed to one of the open pool tables. As he pushed his quarters into the machine, he glanced up at the Old Style clock that hung above the jukebox; five-after-one. Hell, he'd forgotten how late it was, but it explained why the place was nearly empty. Only a dozen or so people still hung around. A couple of guys sat at the end of the bar watching a small group of women dance to some country tune about riding cowboys. Three booths were occupied—at one sat a loner nursing a beer, and the other two held several young couples who were chatting and laughing with each other.

He racked the balls, chose a cue stick, and broke.

He'd just cleared the table when Mandy approached with the beer he'd requested.

"Here you go.” She leaned back against the pool table and braced her arms behind her so that her best assets were once again on display.

Before he could thank her, a woman's muffled scream reached them from across the room. Garrett threw the cue stick down and rushed forward when he realized one of the guys who'd been watching the women dance had one of them pinned against the wall, one hand fumbling under her skirt, the other hand clamped over her mouth.

Garrett grabbed the bastard by the mullet and tore him off the hysterical young woman. His anger hit full-boil as he watched her slide down the wall and curl up in a ball. Her two sobbing friends dropped to the floor and gathered her in their arms.

Garrett cracked the guy's head against the corner of the jukebox, then let go of his hair and grabbed the front of his shirt in one fist. He held him up so he could look him in the eye, literally lifting him off the ground. “What kind of scumbag forces himself on a woman?” Garrett backhanded him, feeling a rush of adrenaline so strong he was shaking. “Someone needs to teach you that no means no."

"I-I was just givin’ the bitch what she was askin’ for!” the moron sputtered as blood trickled from his busted lip.

One of the woman's friends swung her head around and cried, “Liar! She told you to stay away from her, but you wouldn't listen!"

Red exploded behind Garrett's eyes. He held the guy up and swung, hitting him square in the jaw. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around Garrett's throat and another around his chest. The power behind those arms surprised him as he was yanked back.
Who the fu—?

"Garrett, let him go!” a familiar male voice shouted in his ear. “You're about ten seconds away from killing the little prick, and I don't want to have to tell Sara you're in jail for murder. Come on, man, he ain't worth it. Let him go!"

Mike?
Garrett squeezed his eyes shut and went still. Jesus, Sara was pregnant. This kind of stress could put her in the hospital. Garrett opened his fist and let the bastard drop to the floor. He lay still as death.

Mike let Garrett go with a shove, walked around and nudged the guy with the toe of his boot. He curled up in the fetal position and let out a low groan.

"Well, he won't be able to blow his nose for a while, but he'll live.” Mike pulled out his cuffs and shot Garrett a dark look. “Thank God Luke called me when he did. What the hell were you thinking?"

Garrett couldn't believe his eyes. “You're going to arrest me? That scumsucker was about to rape—"

"Christ, use your brain. These aren't for you.” Mike glanced around at the sea of faces gathered about and announced, “All right, show's over. Krupp's is officially closed for the night. Everybody pay your tabs and get on home."

Mandy, who looked as if she'd been crying although her eyes were suspiciously dry, ran up and threw her arms around Garrett's waist. “Are you all right? I was so worried."

Garrett rolled his eyes as he patted her on the back. “I'm fine. Weren't you watching? I won."

She leaned back and smiled up at him. “You're a hero."

He shrugged. “I just did what anyone would do."

Mandy gave him one last squeeze then walked off to talk to the owner.

Mike cuffed the guy and hauled him to his feet. The three young women promised to come down to the station in the morning to give their statements. Less than twenty minutes later, the crowd had cleared out and Mike was ready to take the guy in.

"I appreciate you stopping me from...” Garrett gestured helplessly. “Thanks for getting here when you did."

"Thank your uncle,” Mike said. “And next time you and Jessica have a fight, stay away from alcohol. Do you need a ride home?"

Hands on hips, Garrett hung his head and let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Believe it or not, I only had three beers."

Mike blew out a breath and shook his head. “Just make sure you head straight home or Sara'll kick both our asses."

Garrett nodded. “I'll be in to give my statement in the morning."

Mike gave him a hard look, then steered his prisoner out the door.

Mandy appeared at his side again, this time with her purse and her keys. “Would you mind walking me out?"

"Course not.” With a hand at the small of her back, Garrett escorted her out to the parking lot.

His truck was parked under an overhead light, and Garrett stopped short when he got a good look at it. “Son of a bitch!” His truck sat at an angle, and as he hurried over, Garrett realized someone had slashed both tires on the driver's side. He kicked the rim and let out a string of curses that should've turned the air blue.

Mandy ran up beside him and said, “Probably a friend of that moron. Come on, I'll give you a ride home."

Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of his house. Garrett stared out the windshield, lost in thought. He needed to have his truck towed to the Dodge dealer, and he needed to head to the station to give his statement. But first he needed sleep—and lots of it.

Mandy climbed up on the console, and before he realized her intentions, she'd straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Ahhh, now this is better."

She wriggled on his lap dragging a groan from him. Hell, he wasn't made of stone ... although if she didn't quit moving around he'd be able to do a pretty good imitation. He closed his eyes only to have Jessica's beautiful face visualize in his mind.
Damn her
. With a sigh of resignation, Garrett reached back to untwine Mandy's wrists from around his neck. That's when she leaned forward and laid one on him.

* * * *

Jessica waited until Wade fell asleep before slipping out the front door. She sat in the lawn chair, propped her bare feet up on the porch rails, and let out a heavy sigh. Her life had done a complete one-eighty in less than twenty-four hours. And she'd barely made it through the last time her life had plummeted out of control.

Marky.
Burying her son had been the hardest thing Jessica had ever done. For the first few months, she'd truly believed she would die of a broken heart. She hadn't eaten a bite of food that first week following his death, ending up in the hospital with an IV in her arm and her mother crying at her bedside.

Jessica swiped away a tear and got up to lean against the railing. She missed Marky every second of every day. He would have turned five years old this year. She probably would have bought him a bicycle for his birthday, and the biggest chocolate cake she could find. A rueful smile twisted her lips. She wasn't much of a baker, so the cake definitely would have been store bought.

She heard a vehicle approaching and saw the flash of headlights on her truck before a car she'd never seen before pulled up in front of the Jamisons’ house. Jessica squatted down and watched with interest. The overhead streetlamp cast just enough light to illuminate the people in the car—Garrett and an unknown woman. Jessica's heart dropped with a splash into her churning stomach.

She crouched down even lower, holding the wooden railing in a death grip. The woman, who sat in the driver's seat, climbed onto Garrett's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Bile rose in the back of Jessica's throat as the tramp leaned forward and kissed him. Jessica clamped onto the railing so hard she caught a splinter in the thumb.
Dammit!
She stuck it in her mouth and tried to work it loose with her teeth as she watched the two of them go at it. A tear slipped down her cheek and she angrily swiped it away.

No! She'd be damned if she'd shed even one more tear over the faithless jerk. He certainly hadn't wasted a second pining over her. She inched back toward the front door and slipped into the dark house. Leaning against the door, she squeezed her eyes shut. Garrett had just given her all the proof she needed to see her original fears had been completely on the money. As of this moment, Garrett Jamison was officially out of her life. And as soon as she could make the arrangements, Wade would be as well.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 10

Someone was banging on her front door. Jessica let out a long-suffering groan and rolled out of bed, landing on her knees. She worked her eyes open and glanced at the alarm clock; five-to-six. Damn, she hadn't even had four hours of sleep. She climbed to her feet and grabbed her robe from its hook as she staggered out of her bedroom. Wade was muttering curses from the guest bedroom, and she flipped him off on her way by. Of course he couldn't see her with the door shut, but it felt good all the same.

She caught her reflection in the hall mirror and barely managed to stifle a scream. Her hair stood on end, her eyes were red and swollen from crying herself to sleep, and she had an indentation on her cheek that looked suspiciously like a pair of tweezers.
Tweezers?
Oh, yeah, she'd dug out that splinter while crying herself into exhaustion.

BOOK: Meant To Be
6.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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