Four Weddings and a Break Up (23 page)

O
ver the next few weeks
, Wes and his family tried to deal with the Flaherty Construction jobs, and also with Dad. Wes’ father actually seemed to be doing better; there had been no incidents since when he went missing. Maybe his dad was improving.

A couple days before the wedding for a friend of Ginny’s mom’s at The Gray Lady, Wes got a call from Ernie Schaeffer, the owner of Kismet Hotels. Ernie had come to a decision and wanted to meet with Wes. In Atlantic City. Tomorrow morning.

He told all of this to Ginny over dinner. “I should be back by Friday.”

“Two days from now.” Ginny took her empty dinner plate to the dishwasher. “So you’ll be back in time for the wedding?”

The wedding was going to be held in the back garden of The Gray Lady on Friday night. “Yes. I’ll be back in Cape Hope by late afternoon. I’ll make sure of it.”

“That sounds fine to me,” Ginny said. “I’ll just meet you at The Gray Lady since I have to help my mom and sister set up.”

He joined her at the kitchen counter, placing his plate and utensils in the dishwasher next to hers. “Are you going to stay here?”

Although nothing had happened, Wes still didn’t like the idea of her being alone. He wanted to make sure she was safe and protected. Even though her apartment had been cleaned and put to rights, Ginny hadn’t yet decided if she wanted to move back in or break her lease early. Either way, both of them had yet to begin the process of moving back into their separate places.

“I’ll stay here,” Ginny said. “It won’t even be two days, since I’ll probably go to my mom’s Thursday night and stay over. So it’ll just be tomorrow night I’m here by myself. I’ll make sure I lock the door, and I won’t do anything foolish.”

“That’s fine.” He would call his brothers and ask if one of them could just check in on Ginny. And he’d make sure he’d call her, too. Two days or not.

“What time are you leaving?”

“Six. I want to beat the traffic as much as I can.”

“Then I’ll see you Friday.”

H
e watched
Wes leave the bakery early that morning.
Good,
he thought, with a smug smile. That bastard was gone. He wouldn’t be in his way. It was a sign—a sign that his plan would succeed this time. His smile widened. All of this endless waiting would be worth it.

His hands fisted.

That bitch was walking across the street to buy a newspaper. She bent down to put the coins in the slot, and he headed toward her, thinking about how he could wrap his hands around her neck from behind and pull her into that small alley. No one would see her disappear. No one would hear her screams or pleas.

Maybe he should just do it now.

But then a store door jangled, and an old man exited with a Great Dane puppy by his side. He slinked back in the shadows, his back against the brick wall, his heart racing.
Stupid
.

How could he have even thought to mess with the plan? If he’d gone ahead and done that, then he would have been caught. He couldn’t believe he’d gone and almost done it.

It was the bitch’s fault.

She made him forget, made him do these things, and she was going to suffer just like she had made his family suffer.

Ginny had the paper in her hand when the old man called out her name. She laughed when he said something and nodded her head. Taking his arm, they headed back to Just Desserts. The puppy turned when they reached the doorway and saw him, watching them. The puppy took a protective stance, his teeth bared, and let out a growl. Ginny and the General looked shocked and managed to cajole the puppy inside with promises of treats.

That bitch was roaming free. Living.

But not for long.

O
n his way
back to Cape Hope, Wes had called her on the road, but they hadn’t really been able to talk for long since Ginny was helping her mom and Julie prepare for the wedding later that night.

When they finished, Ginny headed upstairs to take a quick shower and change into a coral strapless number. She slipped on her silver strappy sandals and curled her hair so it hung in soft waves.

Then, when it was time, she went back down to the front. Wes had arrived, looking a little tired but still handsome as ever in a black suit. He stopped talking to her mom and strode over to her. Before Ginny could even say hi, Wes wrapped her in his arms and kissed her.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, lifting his head.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Her mom cleared her throat. “I guess you’ll be headed back to Just Desserts tonight.”

“Yes,” Wes said. And then just for Ginny’s ears alone, he whispered, “I need to tell you something. Something important.”

She looked at him, her heart thumping. “A good or bad something.”

“It’s good.”

Maybe he was staying in Cape Hope after all. Maybe he loved her. She hoped it was the case for both things.

Especially because she loved him.

T
he ceremony was a lovely affair
. The love the couple had for each other was evident as they renewed their vows for their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. And their kiss at the end had been so sweet and touching that it had brought tears to Ginny’s eyes.

She wanted that. She wanted that forever type of love that led to marriage and children. And thirty-five years later, she still wanted to look at her husband with love and affection, and celebrate their lives together.

And she wanted all of this with Wes.

She loved him. Her love for him had only grown and grown, until it felt like it was bursting out of every cell and pore of her body. She hadn’t said anything to him—afraid that if she did, he wouldn’t return the emotion. That while he liked her and wanted her, he didn’t
love
her.

And over the past month or so, she’d seen him with his family, with hers. She and Wes had shared things she’d never felt comfortable disclosing to anyone else. After discussing the shooting with Wes, Ginny had started talking to a professional. Wes had encouraged her, and with every session, Ginny had been able to put more of her grief aside. She knew the shooting would always be there, in the back of her mind, but she didn’t want it to rule her life and hold her hostage as it had for this past year. It would take time, but she had never expected the healing would happen overnight.

Yes, Wes had changed her for the better. She didn’t want to, couldn’t imagine the rest of her life without him. She wanted it all with him. And tonight she was prepared to confess all.

During the reception, Ginny got wrangled into standing with the other unmarried women as the bride tossed her bouquet. She looked for Julie, but her sister had disappeared. Ginny edged to the side of group, hoping to make a quiet escape, when she was pushed and knocked backwards. As she regained her footing, she saw that the bouquet had been tossed and was now crowd-surfing the outstretched hands like a rock star at a concert. Women were scrambling for the bouquet, and Ginny wisely decided to bow out of the competition.

She started to step to the side when the bouquet hit her in the face. Then it dropped to her hands. She’d caught the bouquet. The other women turned, their eyes darting down toward the crushed flowers, and then clapped in a half-hearted manner. Since the bride wasn’t doing the garter toss, the music started up again and couples were soon dancing.

She headed back to the table where Wes was the only one sitting showed him the bouquet.

“You know what this means,” he teased her. “You’re next.”

“I forgot to tell you about my secret engagement. Sorry.”

He laughed.

She toyed with the strings of the bouquet. “I—”

“I—“ he said at the same time.

“You first,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You said you had something important to tell me.

“Yes.” He smiled and reached for her hand. Her heart started racing, and her mouth went dry. “It’s official. Kismet is coming to Atlantic City.”

“That’s great.” She knew how hard he’d worked for that deal and was glad for his success. “Is that all?”

“I missed you.”

Ginny looked at the dancing couple and felt a pang in her heart. “Do you think you’ll ever get married and want kids, too?”

“No, I don’t want that.”

“Oh.” She had to get up. He didn’t want that, but she did. And being here, having just watched two people renew their vows and celebrate their lifelong commitment, was too much. She stood and headed back into the house through the kitchen door.

Wes caught up with her in the main entrance. “Hey. What’s going on, Ginny? Why did you run off like that?”

“I’m sorry. I was just—” Upset. Hurt. But there was still hope. She hadn’t told him about her feelings. Surely he felt the same way. Surely that would change things. “Wes, I love you.”

He stood there for a moment with a dazed expression on his face. “You love me?”

He sounded shocked. Shocked was good. At least she hoped it was.

“I do. I love you, Wes.” And then she took a deep breath and went for broke. “Do you love me?”

He hesitated. “I like you a lot. I’m falling for you.”

She heard what he was saying. Or rather, what he wasn’t saying. He didn’t love her. Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces that cut her up, left her bleeding inside.

“Oh.” She backed away, crossing her arms across her chest. “I see.”

“But isn’t that enough for now, Ginny?” He closed the distance between them. “Isn’t it enough that I like you a lot? That I’m falling for you and that we’re together?”

Maybe it should be. Maybe she was a fool for wanting more.

But she had spent so much time pretending for this past year. Pretending that she was okay when she wasn’t. Pretending that she and Wes were dating. And she was done pretending.

“Wes. I hate that I’m changing the rules again. But I’ve learned that there aren’t any rules when it comes to the heart. To love.” She winced at her corniness, but it was the truth. “I want it all with you. I want the marriage. The kids. The renewal of vows when it’s our thirty-fifth and fiftieth anniversaries. I love you, and I want to spend my life with you. I know this might be too much for you.”

“I don’t know, Ginny. It’s just . . . things haven’t changed. I still have plans to move back to Las Vegas.”

“You said you would be flying down here a lot. And at one time you mentioned long distance dating. Wes, I’m not saying we need to get married now or even a year from now.”

He frowned. “Then why are we even talking about marriage? Why can’t we just continue as we are?”

“Because I can’t fool myself. I can’t be in this with you if you don’t want the same things I do. If you’re never going to want to get married or have kids; if you don’t see that with me.”

“Ginny, why does it even have to end in marriage? Why couldn’t we just live together?”

“Maybe I could go for that if you loved me. But if you loved me, wouldn’t you want to marry me?” She gazed at him, a lump in her throat. “But, Wes, wouldn’t you want that? Wouldn’t you want it all with me?”

“Ginny.” He shook his head, sadly. “I’m just not in that place. I don’t think I ever will be. I just can’t give you what you want.”

His words were like bullets, striking into her, hurting her worse than the day Kyle had shot her. When she had been shot, she’d feared she was dying but she had survived.

How would she survive this?

Because Wes’ rejection devastated her. He didn’t love her, and he didn’t want her, not in the way that truly mattered. She was terrified that the life she wanted was out of reach. She couldn’t even imagine her life without him—she didn’t want to . . . it hurt too much. And she didn’t know how she would repair the damage to her heart or how she would live without Wes in her life.

But she was still standing. She was still breathing. She wasn’t hurt on the outside; only her heart had been broken, her love discarded. Her eyes watered, tears spilling onto her cheeks.

“Don’t cry, Ginny. I didn’t mean to—”

“Hurt me? You did. I love you, but you don’t. That’s something I’m going to have to deal with.” Her hands clasped together. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t be with you when you don’t love me.”

Wes took a few steps backward, shock, disbelief, anger, and hurt flashing across his expression. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I am.” She swallowed and got the words out. “It’s over.”

“Ginny.” He reached for her, but she avoided his grasp and shook her head.

“No. Your words and your kisses aren’t going to work this time. We don’t want the same things. And there’s no reason for us to date if we’re never going to be in the same place. I love you, and that won’t go away, but I can’t do this. I can’t be with you, always wondering when you’re going to leave or if you’ll ever love me back.”

“But . . . but . . .”

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay. But right now, I’m going back to Just Desserts. I’ll be out of the apartment by tomorrow morning and stay with my mom. You can get your stuff in the afternoon.”

When he didn’t say anything more, she left.

G
inny pulled
into he bakery parking lot and brushed the tears from her face. She could see the staircase that led up to the studio apartment she’d been living in with Wes for the past few weeks. But no longer.

Just thinking that it was really over brought a lump to her throat and new tears to her eyes. Over and over again she had told herself it wasn’t going to work out—and that Wes would never stick around. And then she’d had to do the dumbest thing ever by falling in love with the stupid man!

What was even more ridiculous was that she still loved him, even after he’d broken her heart, and told her, in no uncertain terms that he couldn’t give her what she wanted. Love. Family. A home. And most importantly, himself.

She turned off her car and got out. A movement caught the corner of her eye, and as she turned to see what it was, she smelled . . .

Gasoline.

A car was in the spot next to hers, blocking her view. Ginny assumed people were using the lot while they had dinner across the street, which was going to make it difficult to find the owner if the car was somehow leaking gasoline. Just what she needed to deal with right now, she thought, making her way around the vehicle to get the license plate number. But the smell of gasoline wasn’t coming from the car, and the sight that met her eyes made her blood run cold.

“Bobby!”

Bobby DePaul had a kerosene can at his feet, spilled gasoline that went from his sneakers to—

Oh, God
.

There were oil splatters against the painted pink siding of Just Desserts. The liquid was even coating the flowers on the sides and up the staircase that led to her apartment. But it was the wet pool of liquid at his feet that scared her.

“Get away from there!” She took a step forward, not thinking, just wanting to get him away from the spilled gasoline and the threat of danger.

She didn’t know what she planned. Perhaps she would yank him away or push him out of the way. But inches before she reached him, she drew to a sudden halt.

He held up a lighter.

The sudden realization hit her. All the incidents over the summer. It had been Bobby all along. Fear drummed in her veins, almost paralyzing her. The lump in her throat had metamorphosed from heartbreak to panic. Her hands clenched into fists, willing it to subside. Now was not the time to lose her head. She needed to remain calm and soothing.

“Bobby. Don’t.”

He shook his head, his black hair falling over his eyes. “No. I have to. I have to make you pay. You ruined everything!”

“This isn’t going to—”

“Shut up!” Bobby flicked the lighter, and a little flame appeared. “You made Kyle bring in that gun and shoot you and Erica. Kyle’s dead because of you. My mom divorced my dad. You broke up my family!”

“I didn’t do anything. Your brother was troubled.”

“He was not!” Bobby’s eyes were watery. “He was—he
is
—the best brother in the whole world. He protected me! And when he died, there was no one.”

“I’m sorry.” She swallowed. “Had I known . . . had I suspected, I would have reported it.”

“And still break up my family!”

“Bobby, this isn’t you,” she said gently. “I still remember when you first came into my class to give your brother something. Remember that?” When he nodded his head jerkily, she took a step closer. “You’re smart. Exceptionally so. And you didn’t give me any problems until Homecoming.”

“That’s because you broke up my family! That’s when Mom kicked Dad out. You destroyed my life.” His jaw clenched, and his eyes blazed with hatred. “So I wanted to destroy yours. I want you to feel pain. You took away my brother. I’m going to hurt you where it’ll hurt most.”

He stepped out of the loose gasoline at his feet and tossed the lighter into the liquid. Fire burst into life, making a streamline to the bakery, and soon flames were licking up the side of Just Desserts, ribbons of black smoke starting to curl into the air.

She ran past him, desperately. “No!”

Her sister had saved up for this and worked so hard to make her dream come true. And now, with one lighter, it was being eaten up by fire.

She whirled around. “How could you?”

“You deserve it! You deserve everything that happened. And more.”

“Bobby.” She held out her hands, still clutching her purse. “You need help.”

Bobby then pulled a handgun from his lightweight jacket. It gleamed in the moonlight. He aimed the gun at her and unlocked the safety.

That ominous click had her frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. Sweat formed in the valley between her breasts, her armpits, and beaded at her brow. She bit her lip to hold back the whimper that threatened to escape. She instinctively knew it was important to not let him know how scared she was.

But a loud buzzing had grown in her ears, her mouth had dried to cotton, and her heart raced. Her stomach rolled in waves, and every nerve in her body was on high alert.

She forced her eyes away from the gun and kept them steady on Bobby’s dark, troubled ones. She softened her voice. “Please don’t shoot me. This isn’t you. This has never been you.”

“Yes, it is,” he said as disgust flickered over his features. “No one’s caught me.”

“Is that what you wanted? Did you want to be caught?”

“I wanted it to stop! I want Kyle alive! I want Mom to go back with Dad and for Dad to stop—”

“For your dad to stop?” She noticed the sweat on his brow. He was nervous too. She didn’t dare break contact, but nerves and talking was a good thing.

“He gets drunk, and then he beats on me. When Kyle was home, it was always Kyle who took it. Kyle protected me. And now, when I go to Dad, it’s only me.” His voice was broken.

She didn’t understand why he would want his family to remain intact if that were the case. “Why, Bobby?”

“Family is supposed to stick together. Dad doesn’t mean to drink. He’s going to stop. He swears he is!”

“Maybe he will. But if he’s beating you, then you shouldn’t be anywhere around him. Sometimes families don’t stick together. Someone might die”—her throat tightened—“or someone might grow apart.”

“You can’t choose your family,” he sneered.

“No, you can’t. But you can make your own family. You can find people who you love as family. The family you’re born into is not always your home. You can find a home anywhere.” She watched the varied emotions wash over his face: disbelief, anger, wariness, and . . . hope.

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do. I think you can make a family and home anywhere. I think you can get help and be the man you’re supposed to be. Someone smart and who knows right from wrong. You know this is wrong.”

“I don’t want to shoot you. He made me do it. He made me,” he said in a shaky voice. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore!”

“I know you don’t.” The heat of the flames were like the gates of Hell at her back. “Just lower the gun, Bobby. And kick it over to me.”

A moment passed, the crackling roared louder, and in the distance she could hear sirens.
Thank God
.

Then he relocked the safety, emptying the bullet already loaded in the chamber, and tossed both to the pavement. When he kicked the gun over to her, she only then dared to look away to glance at the weapon at her feet. She glanced back up. Bobby fell to the ground to his knees, rocking back and forth, sobbing.

It was all over. Relief spread through her, almost overwhelming her with its strength. She started to go to Bobby when the sirens grew louder, closer.
Oh, thank god
.
Oh, thank you, God
. She turned.

It wasn’t the cop cruiser.

It was a plain blue sedan. David DePaul’s car.

David got out, and Ginny momentarily panicked that he would hurt his son. And while Bobby had set flames to her sister’s bakery and threatened her with a gun, Ginny didn’t want there to be any more violence today. Enough was enough.

“David—” The rest of whatever she had been about to say died in her throat.

David pointed a gun at her.

“Get in my car.”

It wasn’t over. Not even remotely. And Wes had been right with his suspicions. David had been behind
all
of it. Ginny hadn’t caught on to what Bobby had been trying to tell her—the “he” who made Bobby do it had been his father.

Her skin went cold like ice at the hatred and venom in his expression. He was going to kill her. Her voice shook as she said, “I’m not going anywhere with you. The firemen will be here soon, as will the cops.”

David laughed, cold and heartless. “You’re going to get in the car now. I’ve got you figured out.
I’ve studied you
. I know your every movement, how you’re going to act and what your next move will be. You’re so pathetically obvious. See, Ginny, you stepped in front of that student, trying unsuccessfully to block her from being shot. I read the report—that if you hadn’t done so Erica Wolingford would have died.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You killed my son! You ruined me! That’s why.” David strode closer to her, the gun inches away from the coral fabric of her dress.

She whimpered when the barrel pressed into her. “Please—”

“I know you. And I know you’re going to get into the car for one simple reason.” He stepped away from her and aimed the gun at his son.

“Dad!”

“Shut up, Robert. You’re weak and pathetic, a sorry excuse of a son. I should have known you wouldn’t be man enough to finish the job.”

David looked at her, but his gun was still pointed at Bobby. “Because if you don’t leave with me, I’m going to shoot him. Your choice, Ginny. Your life or his.”

W
es was still standing there
, where she had left him. What had just happened?

She broke up with you, you idiot. She told you she loved you. She told you she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you and marry you
.

And what had he done?

He’d broken her heart. He said he wasn’t the same place. Of course she was going to break up with him. Wes was just surprised she hadn’t kicked his ass on her way out. But it had never crossed his mind that she would end things. He’d merely assumed they could continue on and keep things the same. That by doing that, neither of them would ever get hurt.

Except he’d hurt her tonight. And he was hurting, too.

No more Ginny in his life? No more of her smiles, her laughter, her kisses? No more loving her?

His hands clenched. His chest felt tight, and it was hard to breathe. Ginny was gone. She was going to move on, fall in love with some other guy and marry him and have his kids and—

No, that wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t. There was no one for Ginny but him. He loved her.

Oh, you big fucking idiot
.

He loved her.

He loved her so much, and it’d taken her leaving him to open up his eyes and see what had been standing there, staring him straight in the face the whole time.

Fear could be cruel, unkind, but it was the only thing that explained his reaction, his denials, his rejection of her. How could she ever forgive him for that? How could he forgive himself?

Brave, strong, resilient, beautiful Ginny loved him. And he’d gone and tossed it in her face. He’d lost her.

However, she also loved him. And she would be at Just Desserts by now.

If he hurried—if he begged and pleaded, if he poured out his heart to her and told her he loved her, that he wanted her forever, and if she gave him another chance, another shot . . .

He wouldn’t run scared. He wouldn’t run anymore. His home was with her. A lifetime without Ginny was not worth living at all.

W
es saw the smoke first
, then the flames.

The bakery was on fire.

Ginny!

His tires squealed as he pulled into the parking lot. Ginny’s car was here, and her purse was on the ground, its contents spilled out. His heart stalled, then started racing so fast it felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. He ran toward the building, watching the flames lick up one side, toward her apartment. Was she inside? If so, why was her purse on the ground?

“Ginny!”

All he heard was sirens in the distance. Help was on its way, but Ginny was nowhere to be found.

He turned, desperately looking for her, and saw a gun on the pavement. His fear turned to dread as he saw the dark-haired teen huddled on the ground, crying.

Wes approached the kid slowly, unsure if he was hurt or not. He looked familiar, but Wes couldn’t place him when he was worried about Ginny. “Who are you?”

“Bobby,” the kid got out. “You’ve got to help her! You’ve got to!”

“You know where Ginny is?”

The kid looked up. “My dad took her.”

“Your dad took her?” His whole body went cold. “Who’s your father?”

“David DePaul. It’s been my dad and I. Doing those awful things. This whole summer. ”

No. No
.

He needed to get there—to stop David, to make sure Ginny was safe, and then he would tell her how he loved her and he’d never let her go again. “Tell me where he took her.”

“The lighthouse!” The kid sobbed. “He took her there. He’s going to kill her.”

“No, he’s not.” He wouldn’t let that happen. Not if he could stop it.