Scoring Lacey (14 page)

Wiping the heel of her hand under her nose, she debated about just driving away because she didn’t need to be told twice. Really.

In the end she did the only thing she could. She opened the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

He gripped the door whether to keep her in or himself up. She wondered how much booze was sloshing around in him.

“No.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her out. “I’m
not
leaving you.” He yelled into her face.

She nodded as she pressed her fist against his chest. “Yes, you are.”

“Not,” he roared and thumped his hand on the roof of the car. A movement caught her attention and she saw her brother take a step forward, hockey stick at the ready. “Should,” he rasped the word out. “I should.”

Ah hell, he knew how to wound.

“There are hundreds of can’ts in this, Lace.” He leaned down, his head resting against hers. “I can’t stay, you can’t leave.” His sigh was pure scotch. “Can’t lie to Todd. Can’t wreck a friendship.” He fisted her hair in his hand and lowered his nose to the strands. “Can’t stay away. Can’t stay with. Can’t hurt you. Can’t
not
hurt you.” He cupped her face in her hands. “Can’t, can’t, can’t.”

Lacey uncurled her hand. “Shayne.”

“Going to leave, Lace. Can’t stay here. Can’t be this. Can’t be him, Lacey. I can’t.”

“You’re not, Shayne. You’re not.”

“Not leaving you,” he repeated. Neither of them voiced the
yet
that was there. “Can’t,” he breathed before he kissed her.

As far as drunken kisses went, it was heavy on the scotch, easy on the skill.

“Gotta go puke now,” he pulled away. “Stay.” He took the keys from her limp fingers then looked at Todd. “Good man, I need to barf.”

She laughed and pressed her hand to her mouth as he staggered towards Todd. With a sigh, she did the only thing she could do.

She stayed.

“Here.”

“Thanks.” She took the glass of chocolate milk and watched nervously as Todd sat on his coffee table. They had spilled Shayne into the bed. That sounded easier than it was. Lugging around two hundred pounds of scotch and muscle was not for the faint of heart.

Her brother leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he looked at her with that gaze that gave away none of his thoughts. The sip sent sugary sweet milk coursing through her veins. Lacey focused her attention on the old graphic imprinted on the glass. She had no idea how old it was. Old enough that the fast food logo was gone. “Dad know you stole these?”

“Nope. You going to explain?”

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. How could she explain when she barely understood herself? “Carmen’s moving in with Kevin.”

“Fuck,” Todd’s shoulders drooped at the uttered word.

“Shayne called right after she told me. Told me I wasn’t a shitty Mom, that I’m not a shitty person, even as he was coming to my house. He just showed up.” She met her brother’s gaze. “I needed him and he just...” a shoulder lifted in a shrug as confusion moved through her, “showed up.”

Todd took the glass from her, probably to keep her from spilling chocolate milk on his couch. “He lit out of here like his ass was on fire. Wondered why.”

“Do you hate him?” She grabbed his hand, squeezing. “You can’t hate him. He
needs
you, Todd. You’re his only family. If you hate him, it will destroy him.” God, she had fucked up Shayne’s life.

She saw the anger burn in those familiar eyes. The last time he had looked this mad, he had wanted to hunt down her ex-husband and kill him. “Please, Todd, don’t hate him.”

“What should I be happy about, Lacey? I just poured him into bed. Something I’ve never had to do before. You’re crying. He’s face planting. You two are fucking. What should I be happy about? Tell me!” He barked the last two words at her. He stood up and left her sitting in his living room. His door slammed and she sagged against the couch. Covering her mouth with her hand, she listened to the silence descend upon her

She should leave. Give Todd time to cool down. Give Shayne time to sober up. Give herself distance from this colossal mess.

She picked up the phone and dialed. She didn’t know if she was relieved or not when she got Shannon’s voicemail. “It’s me. Danny’s still at my place. Carmen’s with him. I’m at Todd’s. It’s...it’s such a mess, Non.” She hung up and clutched the phone to her chest.

A picture she had taken long before she realized she had wanted to be a photographer was in a frame on the bookshelf filled with other pictures and a handful of books plus a huge collection of games. Even from here she could see to the two boys, arms hooked over each other’s neck as they wore almost identical shit eating grins. Todd was missing a tooth. Both held up their gold medals from the provincial game they had won.

Cute little bastards.

Best friends.

Shayne had summed it up so beautiful in his drunken spewing of words. So many can’ts. And she couldn’t do this to him. She was why he had a bruise on his face from his best friend. She was why he had gotten so plastered in the bar he had fallen down. She was why he was passed out. No one else. Her. How could she do this to him?

The answer was simple. “I can’t,” she answered the damning silence

She went into the spare room. Todd had removed his shoes but Shayne was sprawled where he had been dropped. “I’m not worth this, Shayne.” She kissed the back of his head. “Ask around.” He didn’t even twitch.

She went to Todd’s door. She flattened her hand on the door. “I’m going home, Toddy. Don’t be mad at him. Not over me. Then put him in your truck, drive him to Regina and put him on a plane.” She made a fist and lowered her hand because it was shaking again. “Tell him...tell him whatever but get him to leave. He was right. He can’t stay here. It hurts him too much.” She pressed her fingers against the wood then ran, almost taking Todd’s phone with her. She dropped it in his mailbox and fled because if she didn’t hesitate, she wouldn’t change her mind.

If she changed her mind, she would only cause Shayne more pain and she couldn’t do that to him. Last night he had white-knighted for her.

This time it was her turn.

“Repeat it again?” Shayne stared blankly at the floor as he tried to process Todd’s words. His breakfast of coffee and toast had been abandoned at his friend relaying Lacey’s words. Maybe in all his hangover glory he had misheard. Everything was on strike in his body and mad at the amount of alcohol he had consumed. The message from Todd had kind of numbed all the after-effects of too much booze.

“She wants you to go,” Todd said as he bounced his cell phone in his hand. “She wants me to put you in the truck, drive you to Regina and put you on a plane.”

Yeah, that’s what he thought Todd had said. “What did I do last night?”

“You drank. You got punched. You fell. You were dragged to a booth. I called Lacey. I left you alone. She came out crying. You went after her. You threw up. We brought you here. You passed out.”

“What did I say?”

“No idea. I wasn’t privy to that conversation.”

Shayne looked up, meeting Todd’s gaze. “Fuck, what did I tell her, Todd?”

His friend shrugged a shoulder. “You made her cry, Shayne. You made her fucking cry.”

Fuck! Shayne rubbed his chest. “I have to talk to her. Where is she?”

Todd shrugged again. “Carm called looking for her to remind her she was going shopping with a friend. I said she slept here then had some photos to go take but I would remind her.”

God. What the hell had he said to her last night? He had made her cry? Jesus, he had made her cry. “Is she at Shannon’s?” Another one of those annoying shrugs. Shayne rubbed his chest as he tried to recall the night from when Todd’s fist had met his face. “I need your keys.”

“Dude, maybe you should just...let this be.”

Was he nuts? Was he out of his fucking mind? She
cried
. “I need your keys.”

“Damn it, Shayne, she wants you to go.”

“I don’t care! Keys!” He held out his hand and glared at his friend. “I will beat them out of you, Todd. I am bigger and meaner than you. I know where to hit to make you need those pills you deny having in your cupboard.” He would rip through the entire city if it meant finding her. “Keys! And your phone.”

Todd drew them out and slapped them into his hand along with the phone because Shayne’s cell was somewhere not in the vicinity. Apparently Todd didn’t want him to waste precious time looking for it either. That suited Shayne just fine. The sooner he got on the road, the sooner Lacey could be found and the sooner this would be fixed. “This is my sister, Shayne.
My sister
.”

“I know.” Shayne walked out, paused then took a step backwards. A phone was sticking out of the mailbox. “Todd! Yours.” He tossed the handset over and went to the truck. He hoped somewhere along the line he remembered what the fuck he had done last night that would have her sending him away.

What had he done?

The city had changed a lot in the four years since he had been back for three days. He flung Todd’s phone aside and started up the loud diesel engine. “Just one hint of what I did to her would be great. One clue. Small. I don’t care. Barring that...a hint to where she is would be great.” Nothing. No strike of lightning to guide him the way. No neon arrow pointing out of the spot that said, “Here’s Lacey.”

“Great. Appreciate the help.”

He was in a city with ten thousand people. One of them was Lacey. By God if he had to talk to each and every one of them, he would.

Leave.

She wanted him to leave?

God. What the hell had he done last night? Had he ended it? Fuck. Had he? And this was why he hated drinking like he was Jerry’s son and the world was going to run out of booze. “Jesus, Donnelly.” He rubbed his mouth as he drove slowly down the street, squeezing his brain like the wet, useless rag that it was. For her to send him away, he must’ve been a real dick.

Could he plead alcohol poisoning? No. Bad idea. He grabbed Todd’s phone and called his friend. “Is she at Shannon’s?”

“No. I just talked to her. She mentioned that Lacey had called last night but only to say she was here. Then she asked me what the hell was going on between you two. So I yelled at her. She hung up on me.
She hung up on me!
God damn it, Shayne. She...” Todd hung up on him and Shayne closed the phone, tossing it aside.

At a four-way stop, he folded his arms over the steering wheel and gave up on his booze amnesia. He would fix this. Whatever he had said he would fix it, if he could just find her. “Fuck it.”

He turned left and decided to see if her car was at her house. Smart tactic – send the enemy scrambling and retreat to your own turf. No red four-wheel drive station wagon in the driveway. That didn’t stop him from hopping out of the truck to dart around the side of her garage to peer in through the small window. Okay. Not home.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he drove by the hockey rink. Hopeful thinking. It’s where he’d go.

His foot eased off the gas and then he swung a u-turn in the middle of the street, ignoring the horn blasted and the middle finger salute from an oncoming driver. He drove north where the old farm used to be until Jerry had drunk it away. He had come to Shayne asking for money. It had been shortly after his contract was renewed years ago. He had been surprised Jerry hadn’t come around during his rookie year but then...he hadn’t earned a lot of money that year. The second year though was when the team had known what he could do and had given him some pretty American dollars to do just that.

Jerry had shown up then. There had been extreme pleasure in telling Jerry no. Then his father had gone on TV to tell the world what a selfish bastard his son was and how he didn’t look after his own. Maybe he would’ve garnered sympathy if he hadn’t been drunk and barfed on the eager, pretty journalist’s shiny blue blouse. Shayne had hired the slickest, lethalist lawyers to tie up his money. Todd had been made his beneficiary in his will and after several attempts Jerry had disappeared.

Not for good. Not for five more years.

Five long years then Jerry had disappeared in the bottle of a vodka bottle forever. Glory hallelujah amen. Shayne hadn’t even claimed the body when he got the call Jerry was dead.

Man, he was a bastard.

He eased off the gas when he saw the familiar car. He stopped beside it and looked at the forlorn grain elevator. Jesus, it looked like hell. Covered in spray paint, someone had also started a fire, so the front was a mass of charred wood. He walked around the decrepit building. If she was inside, he was going to kill her. This place was a fucking death trap.

He poked his head in and shouted her name. Nothing but whatever was calling this place home. He wasn’t about to interrupt a rat coffee party. Or, God help him, bats.

He bent down to pick up a handful of rocks as he eyed her car. He bounced a pebble in his hand as he approached her car. And there she was. Curled up in the backseat, Granville jersey covered arm over her head. He tapped the rock against the window until her arm slid away and a tear streaked face peered up at him.

Aw, hell. She reached over and smacked her hand down on the lock. He opened the driver’s side before she could move then hit the unlock button. Her hand smacked down, locking the door again. He rested one knee on the seat and draped one arm over the headrest. Placing his chin on his forearm, he studied her eyes red from crying. What the hell had he done? As he stared at her, she pushed her dark hair out of her face while new tears appeared.

“First things first: Carmen is shopping with a friend. And apparently she’s worried because you didn’t come home last night. And now me. How much of an asshole was I?”

“Why aren’t you on a plane?”

Was that an answer? “My flight is next Thursday at two-something. If you take the first leg of the flight with me you can go see Kayla.” A tear slipped down her cheek and he hated the sight of it. That one droplet clawed through him. He reached past the seat and pulled up on the lock as she wiped a hand down her cheek. Shayne stepped out long enough to open the door then crouched down. “What did I do, Lacey?”