Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense) (16 page)

“Yeah, it is.”

“Is this it?”

“This is her address.”

I yawn.

“Maybe we should spend the night somewhere first. You’re tired.”

I roll my shoulders. “Are you sure you want to go?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

I step out and stretch until my back pops, and offer Ellie a hand standing up. She’s a little punchy at first, yawning. She slept fitfully while I drove, waking up every hour or so, so I know she’s not very well rested, either. Ellie yawns into her hand then offers it to me.

I really should have called. I don’t even know if she’ll be home. I squeeze Ellie’s hand as we walk up to the door. I hesitate to touch the doorbell for a moment, then jam the button with my finger. A bing-bongy chime goes off somewhere in the house, and I hear feet approaching the door. It swings in.

It’s my mom.

She looks at me for a moment, blinking as her eyes adjust to the sun. It’s her, alright. She’s a little heavier and she has gray streaked through her hair, but it’s her. She throws the storm door open and seizes me in her arms, almost knocking me right on my ass.

“Jack!”

“Mom,” I laugh. “Sorry to show up unannounced, it’s just—”

She jerks back and looks me in the face. “Come inside. Hurry up.”

She looks at Ellie and flinches, and I see Ellie wilt, but Mom grab’s Ellie’s arm and tugs her along, too. “You too, honey. Get in here!”

Ellie stumbles inside. I steady her by the waist as Mom closes the door.

“Are you Elaine?”

Ellie is trembling, shaking under my touch.

“Yes.”

“Are you to together now?”

Ellie swallows, hard. “Yes.”

“She’s pretty, Jack.”

Ellie’s mouth opens then closes as she bites down on her words. My mother seizes her face, holding Ellie’s cheeks in her hands, and looks at her.

“Oh, honey, that must have hurt. Are you alright?”

“I don’t know. I think so.”

“Is my son treating you okay?”

Ellie looks at me and starts to blush. “Yes, he is.”

“Mom, we’re getting married.”

“Jack!” Ellie snaps.

“You are? Where? When? We have to invite people.”

“Not like that, Ma. We’re eloping. We’re on our way to Vegas.”

She sighs heavily. “Oh you would, Jack. I just hope you’re a decent man with her, not like your father.”

There’s more than a hint of bitterness in her voice.

“I’m sorry, Ma. I should have—”

“Nothing, stop it. You were a little boy, there was nothing you could do and no lawyer I could ever hire would get custody taken away from your father. I could barely find a lawyer to represent me at all.”

Ellie freezes. I follow her gaze and see why.

These two must be my sisters. The younger is four, the older, eight. They both stare at Ellie with big, wide eyes. The younger is Melissa and the older is Sara, if I remember right. Melissa walks up to Ellie and stares up at her. I can see Ellie starting to shake.

“Are you a pirate?” she says.

“Melissa!” Mom snaps, “that’s rude.”

Ellie lets out a slow breath. “No, I’m not a pirate.”

I move closer to her and take her hand again as Sara approaches.

“Are you my brother’s girlfriend?”

Ellie nods, eyeing me the whole time. She’s close to losing it, I can feel it.

Then Sara hugs her.

All at once they’re both crowding me. The little one practically climbs me like a tree until I pick her up. They’re already bombarding us with questions, and Mom demands we follow her into the dining room.

“You’re staying for dinner,” she says, and it’s not a question. “We have a guest bedroom, too. You’ll spend the night?”

She sounds unsure there.

“I think we should,” Ellie answers, before I get the chance.

“You two must be hungry. Thirsty?”

“Yes and yes.”

Mom puts a straw in Ellie’s lemonade without asking. I feel a little weird watching the two of them interact. I can’t stop staring at my mother. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but she’s almost exactly the same. This whole place is strange to me. My little sisters hovering around Ellie, unasked questions hanging on their lips. My
sisters
.

“Sit down,” Mom scolds them.

I lean over and whisper in Ellie’s ear. “Can you handle this? You okay?”

She nods but brushes a tear away from her eye.

“I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“I am, really.”

My mother notices and puts a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, hon.”

Her voice rises as she does. “How about some lunch? Sandwiches? Did you eat breakfast?”

“We’ve been driving all night.” Ellie says quietly.

Mom frowns just a little then rises and walks into the kitchen. “Jack, come help me out.”

When I join her by the counter she steps past me and closes the sliding doors that cut the kitchen off from the dining room. She folds her arms over her chest and huffs.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you?”

I look down and let out a long sigh, shrugging my shoulders. “No. No, I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You ran away. With her?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about it.”

Mom loads the toaster while I talk and doesn’t look at me, instead staring at the red-hot coils heating up around the bread. I tell her how and why I came back, about the wedding, about Ellie, everything.

It hangs unspoken in the air. She says it casually as she spreads mayonnaise over toast, like she’s discussing the weather.

“You think your father had something to do with the accident.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you were going to help?”

I wash my hands and start making a chicken sandwich. Mom throws some bacon in a pan.

“You need bacon,” she says, by manner of explanation.

I don’t argue.

“Why?”

“Why what?” I say.

“Why do you think he was involved?”

“After the accident he said awful things about Ellie.”

“What about before?”

“He didn’t really say anything about her at all.”

My mother nods as the bacon starts to sizzle.

“Your father is not a killer.”

“But—”

She cuts me off sharply. “I know. He works with bad people, or bad people work for him. He’s not a killer, though. It’s part of how he does business.”

I stare at her, aghast.

“Are you
defending
him?”

She looks up at me, hard. “You were in that car, too. I know it’s hard to believe, but your father loves you…in his way. It’s a sick, hurtful, hateful way, because that’s who he is. But he’d never try to kill you. You mean too much to him. Maybe not as a person. You’re his legacy.”

My knuckles go white as I grip the countertop. “No, I’m not. I’m nothing like him. This is the end of it.”

She glances toward the kitchen. “You and her. Then what?”

“I don’t know, I’ll figure something out. I’m not staying with the company. I don’t want to be his legacy. Ellie’s got some money she inherited, that will start us off. We’ll be better off than most people. I have skills, I can find work.”

“Can you? With your father pulling strings against you?”

“He can’t reach everywhere.”

“He won’t let you go.”

“He let
you
go.”

She sighs. “He got what he wanted out of me.”

She pokes my chest.

Mom watches the bacon and prods it with her tongs.

“He was so charming. I thought I was in a fairy tale. I was Cinderella. The billionaire heir wanted me, of all the girls at our school. I was like a project for him. He did something to win my heart every day. Until you were born, and then I was nothing. Then the other women started, younger, more pliant girls that never wanted anything but dates and gifts. I don’t blame them, I blame myself for not realizing I was in the same position, he just wanted a little more out of me.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

I take her in my arms and she hugs me back.

“Don’t be like him. Don’t hurt that little girl out there, Jack. If you’re going to get bored with her or find somebody else, don’t do this to her. I can see it in her, she can’t take a blow like that. She’s like a glass that already has a big crack in it. One hit and she’ll shatter. Don’t be like him.”

I choke down a bit of anger. “I’m not like him at all. I’m starting to get sick of people warning me not to be.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to be Richard Marshall’s son. I just want to be Jack.”

Mom smiles a little and turns the bacon.

“Ellie likes it crispy.”

Mom glances at me. “You don’t, though.”

“Yeah, but I want her to have it the way she wants it.”

Mom nods. She’s quiet until the bacon finishes cooking and she layers up some club sandwiches. I walk them out while she carries the drinks. I lay one in front of Ellie. The girls get regular sandwiches and eat hungrily, even if it’s a little early.

They’re kids. They can probably eat all day.

Ellie looks like a bird staring down a cat. I sit next to her and take her gloved hand in mine. She doesn’t react when I touch her fingers, she can’t really feel it, but when I rub the back of her hand she notices and smiles at me.

Sara, my older half sister, looks at us. “Are you going to start kissing?”

“Sara!” Mom barks, “don’t say things like that.”

“Well
look
at them,” she protests. “They’re all staring at each other and stuff.”

Ellie looks down. I lean over and peck her scarred cheek. I know she can barely feel it but she looks at me, shocked, anyway.

It works. She turns my way so I can plant a full kiss on her lips.

My mother and my sisters stare at us. Ellie turns beet red and awkwardly tries to stuff sandwich in her mouth. She takes dainty little bites the way she does and nudges closer to me, until her shoulder touches mine.

“Are you okay?” Melissa asks. “You look a little sick.”

Ellie takes a deep breath. “It’s hard for me to be around people. You don’t have to eat with me if you want. I know it can’t be pleasant to look at me while you’re eating.”

Mom touches her arm. “Oh, honey, whoever told you that? We don’t mind. Right girls?”

They both nod.

“I keep telling her how beautiful she is, but she doesn’t want to hear it.”

“I know you’re all pretending,” she blurts out. “I must make you sick. I’m sorry.”

“No,” my mother says, rubbing her arm. “Honey, that’s not true.”

“I can’t—”

“Let’s—” I start.

“Come with me,” Mom says, taking her arm.

Ellie

Jack’s mother takes my arm and leads me into the kitchen then closes the door. I slump against the refrigerator and almost fall down, my chest heaving. She half pulls me up and gives me a tight hug, patting my back with her hands.

“I’m sorry about the girls. I’m sure they’re just confused by the way you look. Don’t mind Melissa, she can be really bratty. She’s probably jealous of you.”

“Jealous of me?”

“She wants to know her brother. She’s only ever spoken to him on the phone. Hopefully if we give them a moment alone he can introduce himself properly and they’ll stop giving you the eye.”

I nod and stand up. “Thank you.”

“What you said, about disgusting us. It’s not true.”

I blurt out, “I’m ugly,” without thinking.

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

I nod, slowly and sadly.

“I don’t think you are. Jack is over the moon for you. I can see it in the way he looks at you.”

I smile a little in spite of myself. I am almost starting to believe.

“You’re not ugly,” she says. “Do you like to read?”

I blink a few times. “Yes. Why?”

“Just curious. You spend a lot of time reading?”

“Yeah.”

“I was an English major. I met Jack’s father while I was in school. We went to Penn State together.”

“Ah,” I say. “He was an English major?”

“No, business. He was there marking time, really. His grades were bought; there are a few buildings there with his father’s name on them. Not to say he was a poor student. Jack inherited that from him. He was always so smart, so ahead in school, and he did very well in his studies and in the military. He has a really sharp mind.”

She kneads a towel in her hands. “I’d hoped he’d stay in the military and stay away from his father.”

I swallow against a dry throat. “Are you upset that he came back for me?”

She looks up, tilts her head to the side, and smiles in a distant, soft way. “No, of all the things to come back for, I’m glad he chose that. I’m starting to believe he really loves you.”

“I don’t know why.”

I flinch as she reaches out and brushes my hair back. I can barely feel her running her nails over my scars.

“This isn’t you,” she says. “You read a lot of romance novels, don’t you?”

I blink and nod. “How did you know?”

“You’re scarred, but you’re not ugly. A physical defect doesn’t make someone ugly, sweetheart. Beauty and ugliness come from here,” she touches her chest, “inside, where the real person is. Jack’s father was an Adonis when he was Jack’s age. I mean, handsome wasn’t even enough to describe him. He was magnificent.”

Her eyes un-focus a little, like she’s still seeing him that way.

“He just might be the ugliest man in the world.”

I nod. “I know you mean well, but I know what I look like.”

“Yes,” she says. “You do. I’m not going to lie to you, Ellie. Sooner or later you’re going to meet people who can’t handle your appearance, who are mean or cruel to you because you don’t look like everyone else. That won’t be because you’re ugly, it’ll be because they are.”

“I don’t know. I don’t really spend time with anybody but my mom. The wedding was the first time I’ve been out in public since the accident.”

“When Jack looks at you, he doesn’t see the scars, honey.”

“What does he see?”

“You’ll have to ask him. I have to know something, hon. Jack says you’re getting married.”

“Yeah, that’s the plan. Apparently.”

“You sound unsure.”

I sigh and start pacing the kitchen. “This all happening so fast. A week ago I hadn’t spoken to Jack for almost ten years. Then she shows up and… He told me to come with him, and I said yes. He told me to stay with him, and I said yes. He says he wants to marry me, so I said yes.”