Change of Heart (26 page)

“So I ran out, fast as I could. I called the ambulance from outside, then rushed back to Cody. He was barely breathing anymore. I was—damn, I was helpless. It was the worst feeling in the world, you know? Being so close to someone you care about and being unable to do a single. Fucking.
Thing
!”

“It’s all right,” I say, stroking his arm, trying to calm him down. “Rich, it’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. The paramedics came. They sure took their fucking time about it, but they came. They wouldn’t let me ride in the ambulance with them because I’m not
family
.” Rich spits the word. “What kind of bullshit is that? By the time I got to the hospital, they told me the worst. Cody had three broken vertebrae, a cracked skull. He was in a coma. They said he’d never walk again.”

Rich takes another moment before continuing. “I didn’t believe them. I knew the kid had spirit. He’d walk out of the hospital on his own two legs the day he woke up. I knew it. I just knew it, deep down in my gut. It was the most unshakeable belief I’ve ever had.”

Rich goes quiet. For a long time, all I can hear is his breathing, the crackling fire, and the gentle lapping of water somewhere nearby. When he speaks again his voice is thin. “Nobody got the chance to find out. Cody flat lined two days later.”

Shit
.

I berate myself for being so stupid to push him on a subject that obviously cuts close to the heart.

Shit, shit, shit!

What do I say now? I was never good with this type of sensitive stuff. “Rich, I’m sorry,” I try. It comes out even sappier than it sounded in my head.

He grunts and stands up. The sudden loss of his body leaves me reeling. “Spare me. It wasn’t your fault. You weren’t even there.”

“Still, I…”
I know how it feels?
I do not. What Amanda said about false sympathy was right. It always comes out hollow.

Rich looks at me expectantly. “You what?” he asks, his naked form stunning in the night.

“I…” I shake my head. “Never mind. I know it must have been terrible for you.”
And I wish I had been there to comfort you after.

“It was,” he agrees. He bends down to retrieve his boxers, then his jeans. I see the pale line of that old scar running across his shoulder and down his chest. I wonder where it had come from. Probably fighting. I decide now is not the right time to ask.

“Where are you going?” I say when he starts to stroll away.

“For a walk,” he declares, flattening his hair that I’d messed up earlier. “I need to clear my head.”

I start sitting up. “I’ll come with you—”

“No!” he barks. I shy back. He winces, and softens his tone. “I mean, I need to be by myself. You understand, right?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” He leans down and kisses my temple. “I’ll be back before first light. Try to get some sleep.”

“By myself?” I start to say, but he’s pacing away before the words even leave my throat. I let him go.

A few moments later, the night swallows him whole.

Suddenly, I feel very alone. I’m by myself on a dark beach, the fire a beacon for anybody out there. I snuff it out by kicking sand on it. It’s odd, but I feel safer in the dark.

I lie back and think about everything Rich had told me. I never knew how much shit he’s had to deal with in his life. My heart aches for him. I want to be the one to hold him close, to tell him everything will be all right. But I know, deep down, that I can never be that girl.

Chapter
Sixteen

Sunlight breaking the grey sky overhead rouses me from a contented sleep. I open my eyes slowly, savoring the last vestige of a dream that involve Rich running his sure, strong hand over my…

I bolt up in alarm.
Rich
! He said he’d be back by first light. I look around. I’m alone by the fire pit. Had he left me again? Panic threatens to take hold.

I stand up, yanking the sweater over my head. I grab Amanda’s jacket, happy that it’s finally dry, and toss it on. I don’t know where Rich is, but—

That’s when I spot him. Curled up by a boulder in the sand, less than fifty yards away.

I see his footprints in the sand. They don’t extend past where he’s sleeping.

I huddle in my jacket for warmth and walk up to him. I’m careful not to make a sound. Yet, somehow, when I’m just over ten feet away, his sharp eyes open.

I look him up and down. His clothes are rumpled, his hair in disarray. There’s a tiny bit of bruising on his face from the fight last night. Even like that, he manages to look sexy as hell. “Did you spend all night here?” I ask.

“Of course,” he answers. “I couldn’t leave you alone.”

My heart melts a little inside. Rich stands up.

“Come on,” he says. “We’ve got to go.”

“Where?” I ask, following him back to the fire pit. He starts kicking sand over the ashes. I sit down and watch him.

“We’re going to meet Min,” he says. “I need to see her. From there… I have a plan that will keep you both safe.”

“Really? What is it?”

He give me a wry smile. “It’s a secret.”

“I think at this point, I deserve to know,” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “Not really. It’s better if you don’t.”

I feel a bit of irritation seep into me. “What? You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not that,” he says. “It’s just, the plan’s not fully formed yet. I’m still working out the kinks.”

“Maybe I can help.”

“Penny!” He says my name so sharply it causes me to stop short. “Just leave this alone, will you? I’ll tell you when I figure it all out. I promise.”

“Fine,” I grumble, crossing my arms. “I’m just not as useless as you seem to think.”

He clicks his tongue. “I don’t think you’re useless,” he says with a finality that ends the conversation.

Silence stretches between us like a yawning chasm. Rich continues covering up the fire. I can’t take the quiet much longer. “What are you doing?” I blurt out.

Rich looks at me. “I thought you’d never ask. I’m trying to hide our tracks. We don’t want anyone to know we spent the night here.”

“What, like Tam or Victor? How would they even begin to guess to look here?”

Rich shrugs. “It never hurts to be careful.”

“Says the man who started a bar fight last night,” I retort under my breath.

“What was that?”

I sit up. “Nothing.” I’d forgotten how sharp Rich’s ears can be.

“You said something,” he insists.

“I was just wondering how a boy who grew up in New York… a
city boy
,” I flash him a smile, “knows so much about…” I pause, searching for the right words, “…the world.”

“The world?” Rich sounds amused.

“You know,” I continue, “all this type of stuff.” I gesture at the fire. “Hiding our tracks. Off-road biking. The way you were so careful when we sneaked back into your apartment. Those kinds of things. Didn’t you grow up in the city, like me?”

“I did.”

“So how’d you learn all those practical things?” I pause. “And, come to think of it, why do you drive a
truck
? Isn’t your family super rich?” I speak without thinking, and instantly regret the words. My question is rude and probably crosses some line. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rich gets mad at me.

But he does not. He looks at me, thoughtful, and when he speaks, his words carry a deep inflection. “Penny, you have to understand that wealth…” he spreads his hands, “…is not all it’s cracked up to be. I guess from the outside, a statement like that sounds incredibly entitled. Ungrateful, even. But that’s not true.

“I grew up in the wealthiest suburb of New York. There was nothing I ever wanted that I went without. In theory, it might be a great life. But it’s
not.
Not really. I’ve seen what chasing money does to people. It turns them into cold, calculating, emotionless robots.”

Rich sits down beside me. “My father lived his whole life in pursuit of wealth. Look where that got him. In jail, with a son who hates his guts and a daughter who’s not much better. Not that he ever gave a shit about what we think.”

I look down at my hands. Rich keeps talking.

“I’ve seen firsthand how money can corrupt a person. It makes you do things you never would otherwise. And once you get a taste of opulence, it becomes like a drug. You become addicted. You need more. More cars, more houses, more
things
.”

Rich grimaces. “That’s how my father treated everyone around him. Not like a person. Like a
thing
to be used and exploited for his own personal benefit. Even his kids weren’t immune to it.”

Rich takes my hand and squeezes it gently. I love the warmth that flows from him. “And I hated that, Penny. I hated it more than anything in the world. It was no way to live. So call me spoiled or entitled. Call me whatever you want. Call me the brat who doesn’t know how good he’s had it. I don’t care. Possessions aren’t the important things in life.” He tightens his grip on my hand. I look over, and he meets my eyes in an unwavering gaze. “People are. People you care about.”

Oh,
wow
. For a moment, things get way too intense for me. Like an idiot, I jerk my hand away.

I don’t know if it’s just my imagination, but for the blink of an eye, Rich looks incredibly hurt. Then he keeps talking, and seems all right. “That’s why I drive a truck instead of some fancy Lamborghini or Porsche. My dad dumped a bunch of his money into my bank account when I turned sixteen. Probably so he wouldn’t feel obliged to give me anything else. I try not to touch it. Living frugally keeps me grounded. As does knowing about all the other things you mentioned.” He pauses. “What about you?”

I blink. “What about me, what?”

“What about you, in general? We’ve spent all this time together. After last night, it’s clear we both have feelings for each other. But I barely know a thing about you. You,” he points at my face and draws a question mark in the air, “are an enigma.”

“An enigma?” I laugh. Then I shrug my shoulders uneasily. “There’s not much to know, honestly. My life was always incredibly boring. Until I met you . . .”

I keep speaking, totally on autopilot. Inside, my thoughts are reeling.
‘We have feelings for each other’
? Is that what last night meant to him?

That scares me. I don’t know what to make of it. I’m a confused wreck.

Rich evokes feelings in me that I’ve never had before. I hate the warmth that blooms in my chest when he holds me, hate the way my heart flutters when he whispers my name. Most of all, I hate how naked I feel around him. Stripped down. Bare. Like there isn’t a thought I can have without him knowing it.

It’s a terrifying feeling for a girl who had lived her whole life avoiding intimacy.

“…Penny?”

“Huh? What?” I’d totally zoned out. I realize belatedly that he’d asked me a question, but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was. “Can you say that again?”

Rich smiles. The expression looks so incredibly sweet I don’t know what to do with myself. “I asked you what that is.”

“What what is?”

“The pendant around your neck. You didn’t have it on when we met. But I haven’t seen you without it since you put it on in my apartment.”

My hand clutches the little metal locket hanging between my breasts automatically, protectively. “Oh.” Suddenly, I feel short of breath. I’ve never shared what’s inside that locket with anyone. I didn’t think I ever would.

But with Rich’s sincere, shining eyes on me, I feel like I can. I owe him that much after everything he’s revealed about himself.

I force my fingers to relax the death grip they have on the locket. I pull it out from under my sweater and scoot closer to Rich, cradling it in my palms. I take a deep breath and press the little pin on the side. The locket pops open.

“That’s me,” I explain. For some reason, my voice is shaky. “And my… dad.” The last word comes out in a near whisper.

Rich looks at the old photograph. “May I?” he asks. When I nod, he picks the locket up and brings it close to his face. A little bit of terror erupts inside me at having someone else handle it. I’m very tempted to snatch it back. Instead, I force my hands into my armpits.

“You have his feature,” Rich says finally, his tone gentle.

“What?” I feel somehow offended. I take the locket back and stuff it under my shirt. “How can you even tell? You can’t see anything in the picture!”

“I could see his nose,” Rich says, bringing his hand up to touch my own nose. “And some of his cheek.” He holds his hand to the side of my face. “You are undoubtedly his daughter.”

Those words shock me.

All of a sudden, I’m crying. I don’t know why. I
never
cry. But what Rich had said means so much to me. More than all the words I’ve heard all my life put together. More than all of those multiplied by a hundred.