Dylan's Redemption (7 page)

“Yes. I did. I’m so damn happy to see you, Jess.”

“This can’t be. I mean, I can understand why Brian might think something happened that night, but not you. You knew I was alive. You had to have known.”

Dylan cocked his head, studying her. “I wasn’t even here. I didn’t contact my parents until two weeks after you disappeared.”

“I tried your cell phone, but you’d canceled the service, so I emailed you.” Jessie put her arms around her middle and held herself. Her eyes filled with so much hurt, he felt it in his gut.

“Jessie, someone stole my phone at the airport. I canceled the number and got a new one a few weeks later. I never got an email.”

“Don’t lie to me. You got it. You sent me an email saying you didn’t want anything to do with me, you had a new life, and you never wanted to hear from me again. I emailed you back. I tried to tell you, but you shut down your email address too.”

Dylan sucked in a shocked breath and took a step back. He couldn’t believe she’d think he’d do such a thing after everything they shared. Yes, he’d left without a word, but he’d had his reasons and none of them had to do with her and the friendship and more they’d shared.

Busy with the constant drilling those first eight weeks in basic training, he’d barely had enough time to eat and sleep, they kept him so busy. His parents were beyond angry he’d joined the army and didn’t go to their handpicked college to earn the degree they wanted him to have. He hadn’t questioned them about changing his email.

If his suspicions were right, his mother had done a hell of a lot more than change his email address. Anger flashed through his system.

“When your email didn’t work, I called your parents’ house and spoke to your mother. She told me you didn’t want anything to do with me. She said it was my fault you left and joined the military to get away from me.”

“Jess, I’m sorry. No. That’s not true. I’d never say anything like that about you. After I left home, my parents changed the email service.”

“Your mother’s way of keeping me from contacting you.”

His mother made it clear on numerous occasions she disapproved of, even hated, Jessie. Maybe that’s why he’d been so determined to be her friend. Maybe that’s why when he noticed her as more than a friend, and his mother figured it out, as mothers do, she’d been adamant he not see her ever again. He never told his parents he had a date to the prom, and even went so far as to ask Jessie to meet him there instead of picking her up. Sneaky and cowardly on his part. He’d wanted to be with her that night without instigating a fight with his parents in order to do it.

When he’d left town, a small voice inside him told him to take her with him. He’d hated leaving her behind, but what could he do? She was fifteen and still in high school. He couldn’t ask her to run away with him and get away with it. If he’d known about the abuse, taken her away with him, she wouldn’t have been hurt, almost killed.

“Shit. I think she sent you that email. I can’t believe she’d do something so callous.”

“I can.”

“I’d never tell you I didn’t want anything to do with you, Jess. That’s the furthest thing from the truth. You have to know that after everything we shared. I have grieved every day for you, Jess.” He wanted to wrap her in his arms. Whatever was between them now, this anger she had for him, he wanted to make it disappear.

Jessie ignored those poignant words. She’d hated Dylan all this time for turning his back on her when she needed him most. She had a hard time switching gears. She clung to her anger, but turned it in his mother’s direction now. His mother sent the email. She choked back the bile rising in her throat. Even now, she felt the terrifying realization she was pregnant and unable to contact Dylan. His mother telling her he didn’t want her in the email and on the phone, going through the pregnancy alone, delivering their beautiful daughter . . . and losing her. The bitch had done it all because she found Jessie lacking and unsuitable for her only son.

She turned to Dylan, her emotions a whirlwind in her gut. “If she’d just given me your phone number, let me tell you, everything could have been so different. I swear to God, I’ll make her pay for this.”

Overwhelmed with sadness for all he’d missed, the anger washed over her again, and then came the misery she’d felt all those years ago when his mother told her Dylan didn’t want anything to do with her. A whirlwind of feelings and emotions she couldn’t hide from her face.

Dylan responded to her, his gentle tone coaxing her to talk to him, spill her guts, and unburden herself. “Jess, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Is this about what Buddy did to you? I should have protected you. I’m sorry. You must have been so angry when I left.”

“Hell yes, I was angry.” She couldn’t face the fact his mother lied. She wanted to deny someone, anyone, could be that cruel.

“There was more. So much more,” she said, her voice quieting.

“Jess, I don’t understand. Tell me why you called.”

“I didn’t come here to . . . rehash the past with you. I came to see Brian and set things right with him. I can’t do this with you, standing in the front yard in front of all the neighbors.”

“Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

She couldn’t do this now, today, not when her emotions and the memories of what her father did to her, Dylan’s mother’s scathing words, and losing Hope swamped her every thought.

“As far as I’m concerned, all the anger and hurt over what happened has been directed at the wrong person. Am I angry you left? Hell yes.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, punctuating every word. “I blame you for not having the decency to say goodbye and tell me you were leaving. But what your mother did is unconscionable. She knew I was alive and didn’t tell you. She didn’t tell you I called because I needed you. No matter what she says, there is no excuse for what she’s done.”

“Jess, why did you need me? What happened with Buddy? There was blood. You must have been hurt pretty bad. Were you in a hospital? On the streets? What?”

“None of that matters compared to what I tried to tell you. If she’d simply given me your number, I could have told you.”

“Tell me now.”

“I can’t. Don’t you get it? Hurting you the way your mother hurt me will only make it worse.” He’d hate her. The thought closed off her throat and made the bile churn and burn in her gut. She pressed a hand to her stomach, unable to bring herself to speak the words.

Up until today, she’d have liked to hurt him, making his heart bleed the way he’d made hers tear to shreds, but not now. Not like this.

“Jess.”

“I have to go. I have to take care of for my father’s funeral. Excuse me.”

Dylan stood in the middle of the broken path, staring at the back end of the Porsche as Jessie drove away, memorizing the license plate. He’d Googled her over the years, hoping for any sign she really had run away. He never found anything that linked to her. Now he’d go back to his office and dig for information on her, starting with the registration to her car.

Brian opened the door behind him. “Hey man, what are you doing here?”

“I was just catching up with your sister.” Actually, he felt completely at a loss, with no idea what just happened. She talked in circles. One thing was clear, his mother had interfered in his life again.

Dylan turned to face Brian. He’d just come from the shower. He wore a clean pair of jeans, a dark blue T-shirt, and his hair was wet but combed. Brian raised a hand to his bloodshot eyes to block the bright sun and winced from the pain. Dylan bet he had a raging hangover headache and sympathized.

“Did you two catch up?”

“She showed me the long-ass scar down her back. The thing goes from her shoulder down to her hip. This nasty, ragged line. That bastard sliced her open.”

“Where did she go after she left town?”

“Solomon.”

So close. Yet no one ever found her. Probably because no one went looking for her.

“I thought she was dead. Now, I have a job and she’s yelling at me to quit drinking and being like the old man. Apparently, my wife is considering leaving me. Damn.” Brian threw up his hands in frustration. “Hell, I don’t know what’s going on. Did she tell you anything?”

“She tried to contact me when she left town.”

“She did? What the hell happened with the two of you at the prom?”

“I thought I knew. Now, I don’t think I know the half of it,” Dylan admitted and hated being in the dark. He rubbed the tense muscles at the back of his neck. Jessie’s words ate at him. “Listen, I have to go to the office. You all right?”

“Just peachy. I think I better clean up the house before my wife gets home. You may have to come back if she decides to kill me.”

Chapter Seven

D
YLAN SAT IN
his truck outside the sheriff’s office and stared at the building, thinking of all Jessie said and didn’t say. He pulled out his cell and hit the speed dial for his parents’ house.

“Hello.” His mother’s cheerful voice came on the line.

“It’s me.”

“Are you calling to ask me to watch Will again?” The hope in her voice made him smile, but it died on his lips the second he thought about why he really called her.

“No. He’s with Lorena today. I went over to Brian’s house to see if I could help him make funeral arrangements for Buddy.”

“You die young when you drink like that man.”

No sympathy. Not even an offer of condolences for his old friend, Brian. Typical, judgment with no sympathy.

“Jessie’s back in town. I saw her at Brian’s house.”

Silence. It took his mother twenty seconds to spit out. “Is that right?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she called?”

“What difference would it have made? You left your family and joined the military against our wishes. You wanted to get away from us. This town. Her.”

“No. Not her. But that’s what you told her, didn’t you? You sent her that email, saying I didn’t want her and never wanted to hear from her again.”

“Who can remember what I said after all these years? You moved on. I told her to do the same.”

“How could you do that when everyone in town thought her father killed her?”

“Well, he didn’t.”

“Did you even ask her what happened? Where she was? If she was okay?”

“She wasn’t my responsibility or yours. If I’d told her where you were, she’d have clung onto you again and dragged you down with her. That girl is nothing but an anchor. You’re better off without her. You’ve got Will to look after now. He needs you, so don’t get distracted from the life you’ve built here with him. That girl is no good for you.”

Dylan smacked his hand against the steering wheel, frustrated to have the same conversation he’d had with his mother about Jessie so many times when he was a kid. Arguing about Jessie never got him anywhere. His mother refused to see the Jessie he knew.

“Dylan.” His mother said his name with that placating tone that meant she’d reached the end of her rope with him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you she called, but there was nothing you could do for her. You had your life. She had hers. Things turn out the way they do for a reason.”

“You let me believe she died.”

“After I spoke to her, no one ever heard from her again. You were gone, busy in the military, and then with Will. I never thought to mention it again. You never asked about her.”

No. Why would he when his mother made her feelings clear and led him to believe Jessie died. He’d suffered and mourned in silence.

“You should have told me. I can’t believe you sent that email in my name. How could you do something like that?”

“I was hurt and angry after you left. I wasn’t thinking. I’d check your email every day for a clue as to why you left the way you did. What were you thinking? Then she emailed you, and it became so obvious you two had a falling out and that’s why you left the way you did.”

“I can’t believe you were checking my emails.”

“You knew the rules when you lived under our roof.”

Yes, he did. They knew his passwords, but he never thought he’d given them any reason to check up on him. Sometimes his mother could be overprotective. In this case, she’d crossed a line.

Furious she’d invade his privacy, send an email in his name, and then follow up with her lies by telling Jessie on the phone, he didn’t want to speak to her ever again. He couldn’t speak to his mother right now. He might say something he couldn’t take back. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Dylan. I’m sorry. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.”

“I know,” he conceded, but she had hurt him. She’d hurt Jessie, and that was harder to ignore. “I’ll talk to you later.”

The damage had been done. Now, he had to find a way to make it up to Jessie. First, he had to find her.

D
YLAN SLAMMED HIS
office door, rounded his desk, and sat in his cracked leather chair.

The office buzzed with activity. After his call with his mother this morning, he’d been detoured from his objective to find Jessie for one emergency call and then another. When he finally returned to the office, he consulted with his deputies about ongoing cases, returned phone calls, and waded through general crap before he could look into Jessie’s past.

Story of his life. Especially since he moved back to Fallbrook.

Well, nothing and no one would sidetrack him this time. Not a case. Not his cousins, Brody and Owen, and whatever drama they had going on in their lives, though things had calmed down now that both of them were married.

He’d come back to his office to find out where Jessie had been all this time. Her license plate was the one and only clue he had to work with, but he’d start there and follow her trail through the last several years and uncover all her secrets. He needed to dig up all the information and details on her before he saw her again. The next time they talked, he wanted to be prepared. This morning, she’d blindsided him. He didn’t want that to happen again.

The aroma of fresh coffee surrounded him. Inhaling deeply, he rose and poured a cup from the pot his secretary made recently on the credenza. Returning to his desk, he frowned at the files piled in his in basket. To his dismay, they overwhelmed the number he’d managed to move into his out basket.