The Prize (25 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Two weeks later
…

I sat in the warm sand, digging my toes into the beautiful white grains and staring
at the waves. I’d always loved the ocean. It called to me. The first time I’d seen
its vastness, I had been eight years old.

No. That wasn’t true. It was simply the first time I could remember. My parents had
taken me to this spot in Key West for the holidays. It was a rare vacation in which
my father had taken an entire week off work and spent every minute with me and Mom.

I recalled it so perfectly because he had pretended he didn’t have a care in the world
and had granted us days of fun and laughter and games.

Ordinarily, he worked so many hours, we hardly saw him. My mother had raised me almost
single-handedly. That was probably why they never had any other children.

I leaned my head back and soaked in the warm sun. Every day was a blessing. I kept
that mantra going. I was alive. My parents were alive. My friends were alive.

Vincent Swarth could hunt me down until he died. He’d never find me.

Tomorrow I would move again. Until Branch had everything in place, I wouldn’t settle
in any one location. This one was my favorite so far, though. And I’d been here three
days.

The running pictures in my mind kept me occupied. Especially those of my time with
Parker. Surprisingly, the few weeks I’d spent knowing him overshadowed any other thought.

I missed him. It took me a few days to realize how right he was about so many things.
I was submissive. No one else would ever find out. It was something I would only share
with Parker. But it was special, and I wavered between horny and sad when I thought
of him.

Branch never told me what happened after I left, for which I was grateful. I couldn’t
stand to listen to stories of what my parents and Parker had put him through. He kept
things professional, speaking to me just long enough to make sure I was okay and give
me a brief status update.

I was used to my new name by now, even though the only time I used it was to check
into a new hotel. I paid in cash, staying in inexpensive locations, and laid low.

As I tipped my head back farther, I closed my eyes. The sun felt wonderful. The nearly
constant chill I had at night could be erased during the day by lying in the sand.
The bruising on my face had faded to almost nothing. Just the faint tinge of yellow
around the edges of my eyes. I’d worn huge sunglasses for the first ten days.

My skin was getting darker each day too. With nothing to do but sunbathe and read,
I spent hours next to the waves. Their sound soothed me. Their unpredictability calmed
me.

I lowered onto my back and stretched out my legs. It was late enough in the morning
that the sand was already growing hot. In nothing except short shorts and a bikini,
my back, shoulders, and thighs heated up on the sand. The sun did the rest.

When a shadow covered my face, I lifted my hand to shade my eyes and glance at whoever
was intruding on my peace.

My breath stopped.

Deep green penetrating eyes stared down at me. His hair was longer than I’d ever seen
it. His mouth quirked up on one side in an expression that gave away nothing. I had
no idea if he was happy or pissed.

I didn’t move, except to lick my lips. “You found me.”

“Yes.” He stood there for long moments, scanning up and down my frame until he returned
his gaze to my face. “Vacation suits you.”

I swallowed. “It’s hardly been a vacation.” Right?

He lowered to the sand next to me, facing the ocean. His khaki pants were rolled up
to his knees. His untucked white dress shirt fluttered in the breeze. It was unbuttoned
enough for me to see his amazing firm pecs. When he dropped his shoes on the sand,
I winced.

What was he thinking? How had he found me?

“They found Vincent,” he stated flatly.

I gasped and dragged myself to sitting, turning to face his profile, though he didn’t
glance my way again. His expression was unreadable, and he stared at the ocean as
though it was mesmerizing.

In truth, it was, but I knew he was far, far away, not seeing the waves as I’d seen
them moments ago.

“How?”

He chuckled. “Anyone can be found for the right amount of money.”

I shivered. “You��”

“Yeah. I couldn’t leave you roaming the planet in hiding for the rest of your life
just because the criminal justice department can’t get a fucking asshole off the street.”
Other than the tone he used for “fucking asshole,” his voice was calm as if he were
simply sharing some uninteresting tidbit.

Jesus
.

“There’s no one left. I’ve had lengthy conversations with Swarth’s mother. She’s no
threat to you.”

“You hunted her down and spoke to her?”

“Yes. And I found his father too.”

“Where?”

“In the cemetery. He died six years ago.” He glanced in my direction, not meeting
my gaze, his frown growing. “Jesus, Meagan. I’m not the shithead you think I am. I
cared about you. I fucking loved you. And you knew that. The fact that you threw that
away and ran from your life so you didn’t have to face a challenge doesn’t change
how I felt about you.

“No matter how badly you hurt me, I couldn’t have left you to live on the run for
the rest of your life, giving up everything in the world, including your parents and
your closest friends. Not just to get away from me. That would have been cruel.”

Get away from him? He thought I ran to get away from him? What the hell?

“I—”

He lifted a palm. “Save it. I only came here to put your mind at ease. Vincent is
no longer a threat. And you’re free to return to your life, whatever you want to make
of it. I won’t bother you. I promise. But you’re hurting your parents. Go to them.
They’ll forgive you. They have no choice.”

What he left unspoken was that
he
did have a choice, and
he
would never forgive me.

Why did he bother coming for me? He could have sent someone else. Hell, he could have
kept the details of Vincent’s arrest from me forever.

“Is he in jail?”

“No. He’s dead.”

I gasped. Who? What?

“Hung himself.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. It was fun to find him that way. I’ll never get that image out of my mind.”

“You—” Fuck, Parker found Vincent?

He waved a hand through the air. “It’s no big deal. Done. The guy was an asshole.
I won’t lose any sleep over him.”

“But…”

“Look, I just came to relieve your mind. You do what you want. I suggest you call
your mom and dad. They’re worried sick. At least go back to Atlanta long enough to
meet with them. Or hell, go to Charlotte if you want. I’m not living there anymore
anyway. Choose wherever you want to live.” He stood, wiping his hands on his pants.

And then he reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

My cell phone. The one I’d left with Branch.

“Brought this for you. I’m sure it’s filled with interesting texts and messages. Perhaps
even enlightening ones.” He set it in my lap without touching me.

I started to speak, but he stopped me again by turning away.

Over his shoulder, he called back, “Oh, and call Amy. I don’t know why she thinks
she can forgive you, but she does. You owe her.”

I watched him as he trudged through the sand until he was too far to call after him.

Stunned didn’t begin to explain how I felt.

Had he just dropped those bombs on me and left?

I grabbed the phone from my lap. With shaky fingers, I dialed Branch.

He answered on the first ring, as usual. “He find you?”

“Yes.” I ran a hand through my hair and stared at the sky, seeing nothing.

“Sorry about that. It was unavoidable. Darwin is…formidable at best. He made the rules.
I had no choice but to go along.”

“Why?”

“To save you from yourself.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means the department doesn’t have the resources to hunt down a man who isn’t even
in our jurisdiction. It means when some rich guy comes in waving his credit card,
we have to swallow our pride and let him hire his private investigators. It means
when he found Vincent, I had to keep my end of the deal and let him be the one to
share the news with you.

“I swear I never gave him a single detail about your location until I saw Vincent’s
body with my own eyes and ensured the Swarths were no threat, either.”

My heart raced. As I tucked my head to rub my temple with my free hand, my brain fired
too many messages to count. I hung up without another word.

It took me over an hour to drag myself off the sand and find my way back to my hotel
room. I struggled to pack my meager things and then check out at the front desk.

Two hours later, I stared out the window of the plane and pondered my predicament.

Parker Darwin saved my life. He did it with money. I could have done the same thing.
Why didn’t I? Was he right? Had I run from my life because I was too afraid to face
the challenges? Why would I do that?

I’d spent so long convincing myself I would need a new identity and a new life with
no one in it, I couldn’t even remember when that hadn’t been my primary escape plan.
For years, I’d plotted so my parents wouldn’t be in danger when Swarth got released.

For so many years, I had predicted this destiny. Maybe I had let it all play out automatically.
It seemed rather ludicrous now. But hadn’t I done it out of love for those I cared
most for in the world?

Or maybe I’d done it for myself. To feel safe. To be sure he couldn’t find me. Ever.
I still didn’t feel safe even after Swarth died. So I ran anyway. And did I feel safer
these last two weeks?

No.

Parker would never forgive me. I’d destroyed anything we’d ever had. He was stoic.
Way past angry. Resigned. I hurt him in the worst way.

My parents would forgive me. Perhaps even my friends would understand my reasoning.
But I hadn’t known Parker long enough or well enough to fix the damage. The devastation
over my betrayal was obvious.

A tear ran down my face. I wiped it away, not turning to face the other passengers.
Luckily the flight hadn’t been full. I’d easily gotten a first-class seat. No one
sat next to me. It was a two-hour flight. What flight was Parker on? He would have
beaten me to the airport and been gone before I arrived.

I took my cell phone from my purse and proceeded to read the texts he’d sent me from
the moment I’d left Atlanta. I didn’t bother reading anyone else’s. Just his. And
then I listened to the voice messages of a desperate man pleading with me to call
him back.

I cried silently during the entire flight. The flight attendants left me alone. How
could I have been such a bitch?

By mid-afternoon, I was in a rental car and headed toward my parents’ house. My non-descript,
silver Honda Civic would be long gone, right? I would need to buy a car soon.

Would I find them at home? It seemed likely they would either be living there or at
least supervising renovations. The drive was almost an hour, and I exhaled in relief
when I pulled in the driveway.

My mother stepped outside when she heard me pull up, and then her hand flew over her
mouth, and she ran toward me. She wrapped her arms around my middle and hugged me
close. “Meagan. Oh thank God.”

I fought back the tears. I’d shed so many it was amazing there were enough left to
dampen my eyes. Without another word, I followed her inside, shocked that I wasn’t
scared to enter my childhood home. For some reason the anxiety I expected to feel
was gone.

I froze in my tracks when I discovered the inside was filled with stacks of boxes.
“You’re moving.”

“Yeah. Seemed like the best plan.”

“Where?”

She shrugged. “We haven’t decided yet. We were going to put the important things in
storage and sell the rest.”

I grinned. “It’s not like the furniture is valuable.” That was my fault. I’d picked
most of it out at the age of ten as if I were a discerning adult with an eye for thrift
quality. And then I’d fought them every time they wanted to replace something.

My mother’s smile lit up her face. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“I’m done running.” I let my shoulders slump and plopped onto the couch, careful to
avoid the sinkhole near the center.

“Good. Your father will be pleased to hear it. We’ve been so worried about you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It seemed…” I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now.”

****

I spent that night with my parents in their hotel suite, sleeping on the pullout couch.
The next day I headed to Cheyenne’s house. Amy came from Nashville, and the three
of us spent about ten hours curled up on Cheyenne’s couch talking. I did most of the
talking. They listened and provided moral support.