Meant to Be: Southern Heat Series (24 page)

“I’m angry he was so quick to think I lied and betrayed him.”

“Betrayed?” Her father looked up from his soft -boiled egg. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“She wouldn’t, but what an interesting choice of words.” Her mother stopped buttering her scone. “In order to feel betrayed, you have to care.”

Sydney pushed her food around her plate. Worried she was sulking, she set her fork on the white linen tablecloth and picked up her coffee. “What do you mean?”

“If your relationship was casual, or even cool, as you suggested, what would he care whether you lied about the letters? It’s just about the sex, right?”

Sydney choked on her coffee. “I didn’t lie.”

“No, but what’s the big deal unless he cares? He was
hurt
by what he perceives was a lie on your part. He can’t be hurt unless he’s invested in the relationship.”

Hope blossomed in Sydney. He had been wrong to automatically assume she’d lied and not hear her out, but that was part of being hurt too, right? Not wanting to hear excuses because he didn’t want to be duped again. She’d made it worse by saying he was broken.

Still, if there was a chance for them, Mitch would need to learn to trust. She wasn’t sure he could do that. At least not with her, given their history.

“I’m not saying you need to get back with him, Sydney. You deserve someone who loves, respects, and trusts you. But it’s possible he has unresolved feelings like you do.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t considered that.”

“I want to hear about this attack.” Her father pushed back his breakfast plate and picked up his coffee.

“Yes. Does Mitch have any suspects?” her mother asked.

Sydney told them what had happened and even included that Mitch had talked to Patrick and Jagger Talbot. Her parents agreed it was a waste of his time, and Sydney found herself defending Mitch, saying he was thorough.

After breakfast, Sydney needed time on her own. She considered going to her room but then decided she wanted to get out. It was a beautiful spring day in New York. When Patrick called and invited her to meet him at Central Park, she had the perfect excuse.

“Will you be safe?” Her mother put an arm around her as they walked toward the front door.

“I’m meeting Patrick.” Granted, he wouldn’t be there for nearly two hours, but her parents didn’t need to know that. Besides, there were a ton of people and it was broad daylight.

“Alright. Tell him hello for me.”

Sydney put on her sweater and headed out the front door. She had a lot of thinking to do.

As she was leaving, she checked her phone. No messages from Mitch.

M
itch hadn’t realized
how much money Lexie had married into until that morning when he’d boarded a private plane at the tiny county airport and flown to New York. The contrast between the green rolling hills of Virginia to the landscape of buildings in New York City took his breath away.

A car with a driver named Carl who looked more like a small-town doctor with gray hair, a white handlebar moustache, and a twinkle in his blue eyes, waited as Mitch exited the plane. It was strange to be waited on, but since he knew nothing about getting around New York, he was happy to have the ride.

Sitting in the back of the sleek black car, Mitch understood the attraction of the Big Apple. The energy, colors, lights, and noise. There was so much to do. It would take years to do it all. Still, he knew himself well enough to know he was a country boy at heart. It made him think of Sydney. Would she be able to live in Charlotte Tavern beyond her sabbatical? Drake seemed to like small-town living, although he traveled to New York at least once a month.

Mitch shook his head. Why the hell was he thinking about Sydney living in Charlotte Tavern? Their moment had passed. He’d blown it by letting his fear and mistrust get the best of him. She wasn’t interested in a life with him. After all, he was broken. And yet, why else was he in New York? He told himself it was to apologize and protect her, but he didn’t have to dig very deep in his psyche to know he wanted another chance at love with her.

The car pulled up to the address Mitch had given his driver. He’d expected a building with a doorman, but this looked like a townhome, albeit a large, expensive one. Mitch took a deep breath and then rapped on the front door of the Prestons’ home.

A stiff-faced man in a dark suit opened the door.

“Is Sydney here?”

The man took in Mitch’s worn jeans and black T-shirt and rightfully assumed Mitch didn’t fit.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“I’m with the Charlotte Tavern Police.” Mitch held up his badge and hoped the butler didn’t make a call. If he did, Mitch probably would be forced to return the badge to his boss.

“You’re out of your jurisdiction.”

“Shall I call Detective Fletcher and get his crew of cops down here?” Mitch made a show of looking at the other houses along the street. Many prominent people had to live here. Just like in Charlotte Tavern, having the police outside your home caused talk. “I’m sure the neighbors will enjoy the show.”

The butler sniffed, as if Mitch had forgotten to shower, but he opened the door and let him in. “You can wait in here.”

Mitch entered a darkened room that reminded him of a museum. It seemed like forever before the butler returned.

“Mr. and Mrs. Preston will be with you shortly.”

“I want to see—”

But the butler had already left the room. Mitch shrugged. If he had to get through the parents to see Sydney, he’d do it.

“Mr. McKenna.”

He wanted to tell them to call him detective, but that was petty. Besides, the butler was right. On this visit, he was mister, not detective, because he had no authority in New York.

“Mr. and Mrs. Preston. I was hoping to see Sydney.”

“I’m sorry. She’s not in.”

Mitch waited a beat for Mrs. Preston to tell him more, but she simply stared at him.

He put his hands on his hips. “Can you tell me where she is?”

“I can assure you, she is safe.”

His jaw clenched. “Good to know, but I really need to talk to her.”

“You served in Iraq?”

Mitch’s mouth opened and then snapped shut, not sure how to respond to Sydney’s father. “Yes, sir.”

“It looks like you were injured.” Mr. Preston motioned to his face.

Mitch had met Sydney’s parents only a couple of times when he was in college. His impression of her father was that he was quiet, letting his wife take charge. Was this some sort of test of his merit to be Sydney’s suitor?

“Yes, sir.”

“Goodness.” Mrs. Preston leaned closer, studying the scars on Mitch’s cheek and neck. “The things you must have seen and experienced.”

How much of his story had Sydney told them? He took a calming breath and nodded to her.

“Too many young men losing their lives.” Mr. Preston shook his head.

“Yes, sir.”

Mrs. Preston pursed her lips. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

Mitch nearly laughed. Talking was what usually got him in trouble, especially with authority figures. “No, ma’am.”

“Sydney needs time to think.”

He wanted to ask what they’d talked about. After all, if there was something to think about, that meant there was hope.

“Are you staying in town?”

“I’m staying at my sister and brother-in-law’s place. Drake Carmichael.”

“So, it was your sister who stole Drake Carmichael’s heart.” The tone didn’t sound condescending, as he would have expected.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Drake had a reputation for being a coldhearted bastard and a southern woman turned him around.”

“Lexie has that effect on people.” It was a skill he didn’t have. Not anymore.

“You did too, if I remember correctly.” Mrs. Preston’s gaze assessed him. He fought the urge to squirm.

“War changes people,” Mr. Preston said.

You’re broken
. “Thank you for your time.” Mitch turned to leave.

“Are you going to find out who is trying to hurt my Sydney?” Mrs. Preston’s voice, once cool and aloof toward him, was now imploring.

“Yes, ma’am.” He had no control over what the future held for him and Sydney, but he would make sure whoever was trying to hurt her would pay.

He walked down the steps to the sidewalk. Drake’s driver jumped from the car and opened the back door. Had Lexie gotten used to such service? At least it hadn’t gone to her head.

“Where to, Mr. McKenna?”

Mitch sat, wondering what to tell his driver. Sydney was off thinking in a city with eight million people and probably just as many places to think. Where should he start? And then it came to him.

“Can you take me to the Balto statue at Central Park?”

“I can get you close.”

Close would have to be good enough.

S
ydney watched as Mitch approached
. Her wary eyes filled him with dread.

“Must be some serious thinking going on, with you being here with Balto.” As opening lines, it was lame, but it got his mouth working. It didn’t take a genius to see she was done with him. He couldn’t blame her. He’d wanted something from her he hadn’t been willing to give: trust.

“Why are you here?”

He blew out a breath. “Many reasons. The first is to apologize.” He gestured toward a park bench, hoping they could sit. For a minute, he thought she was going to tell him to take a hike, but she acquiesced. He sat next to her and rubbed his hands down his thighs as if that would give him courage.

“I’m sorry, Syd. I really am. I just…” He struggled to find the words to adequately explain his behavior in a way that might have her forgiving him.

“I understand your initial reaction to seeing those letters.”

A piece of hope bloomed.

“What I don’t get is why you wouldn’t let me explain. It’s like you want the world to let you down, Mitch.”

“I don’t want the world to let me down.”

“Yes. You do. It’s the only way to justify why you work so hard to keep everyone out. But you were already keeping me out, so—”

“No.” He shook his head and wished he could take her hand and make her see. “I wasn’t keeping you out. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and turned away. The little bloom of hope withered. Finally, she turned back. “I’m sorry I said you were broken. That was mean and wrong.”

“I forgive you. Can you forgive me?”

Her lips were pressed together, as if she were trying to keep from crying. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

The irony of the situation would have been funny if he didn’t feel his entire life was riding on this moment. How many times had he asked her the same question in Charlotte Tavern? Her answer had been evasive. Now the tables were turned. He wanted to be evasive too, because the hurt stabbing his heart now would be nothing compared to the hurt of hearing her tell him she didn’t love him.

He’d spent so much time and effort keeping his heart dead. He’d missed the signs when it started beating again, until Sydney walked out on him.

“I want to live again, Syd. And I want to have a relationship with you, even if it’s just friends. Without benefits.” That wasn’t all he wanted, but he needed to take small steps.

Her head dropped. “What about next time you see some perceived betrayal?” She shook her head. “I can’t do it anymore. I get it now, why you’re so guarded. Why you want to protect your heart.”

He swore at himself under his breath. He was a coward and an idiot. Whatever chance he and Sydney had to make something new was gone. Gone because he hadn’t recognized and cherished what had been blooming.

“I understand.” He sat for a moment, not wanting to give up and yet not wanting to push her either. “Will you be returning to Charlotte Tavern?”

She cocked her head. Her eyes shone with surprise. Had she expected him to fight harder for her? Should he fight harder? “Yes. I have a contract to fulfill.”

“That gives me some time then.” He studied her face to see if she understood. Already he had visions of flowers and candy, although deep down he knew the only way to win her back was by showing her he trusted her. He hoped he got the chance.

Her lips twitched upward, but her eyes maintained their wariness.

“In the meantime, you’re still in danger, and it’s my job to protect you.” Before she could protest, he added. “I can do it from a distance.”

She didn’t say anything for a long time. When she turned to him, tears swam in her eyes.

“Syd.” He wanted to pull her into his arms and take all her pain away, but he had no right. Instead, he pulled out a handkerchief and used it to wipe her tears. “I’m so sorry.”

She took the handkerchief and he tried to not see it as a good sign. He couldn’t get his hopes up. But he hadn’t thrown in the towel yet, either. He cupped her cheek with his hand, using a thumb to wipe a stray tear. She dipped her head into his palm, as if she welcomed his touch. He desperately wanted it to mean something.

“What’s going on here?”

Mitch swore inwardly as Julia’s voice broke the moment, causing Sydney to jerk away from him.

Julia glared at Sydney with accusing eyes. “You’re supposed to be meeting Patrick.”

Sydney wiped her tears. “I am.”

“Then why is he here? You said it was over with him. You always say it’s over and then you fall back in his bed.”

“That’s not what’s happening.”

“Why don’t you leave her alone?” Julia’s nostrils flared.

He started to reply when Julia pointed a .22 caliber pistol at him.

“Julia, what are you doing?” Sydney shot up and stood in front of him.

Mitch’s instincts had him jumping up and pushing Sydney behind him. Not that she’d stay there. She kept trying to get to Julia. He was in a tug-of-war as he figured out how to keep Sydney out of bullet range while disarming Julia.

Julia stepped back, out of his reach. “I’m doing what I should have done the first time. He only hurts you, Sydney. Why do you keep letting him? Patrick can give you everything.”

Mitch’s eyes and brain worked overtime. He scanned the area, discouraged by all the people and children who could be hurt if he handled it wrong.

“What are you talking about? Put the gun away. Julia, this is—” Sydney tried again to move forward.

“Do you see I’m trying to protect you?” Mitch pushed her back. He’d liked her newfound assertiveness, but now it scared him to death.

“It’s not me she wants to hurt.” Sydney pushed him.

“Not this time.” Mitch pushed her back.

Sydney stopped abruptly. Her gaze shot to his. Her mouth fell open. She turned to Julia. “You stabbed me. You tried to kill me.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you. I was trying to make you see how good Patrick is. He took good care of you. He’s always there for you. We always said we’d be together. The three musketeers.”

The fight went out of Sydney, allowing Mitch to push her back behind him. “I’m not a threat to the three of you being together.”

“Yes, you are.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, but she waved the gun threateningly, and Mitch hoped to hell that she’d had enough training with it to not accidentally set it off.

He lifted his hands in surrender, unable to decide if the sudden calm in Julia’s voice was a good sign. “I’ll admit I came here hoping to have another chance, but she was telling me to take a hike. She doesn’t love me.”

“Yes, she does. She always has. And as long as you’re alive, she always will.”

How ironic that the words he wanted to hear — that Sydney loved him — came from the woman about to kill him.

“Even so, she’s not willing to risk it. Let her go.” Movement behind Julia caught his eye. Patrick. “Your brother is coming. Let him take Sydney away from here.”

“Of course I will. It’s you I’m getting rid of.”

“Julia, no.” Sydney escaped from his protection and made a grab for the gun, but Mitch held her back again.

“What’s going on?” Patrick’s expression turned from curious to alarmed the moment he saw the gun. “No, Julia. What are you doing?”

“I’m protecting my family.”

Bullets were fast, but Mitch had a nanosecond to realize Julia had fired the gun before the bullet pierced his chest. Even as he fell back, he tried to block Sydney. His head hit something… the park bench?… before he landed on the ground. Whatever he bashed his head against hadn’t been hard enough. He was going to be conscious during his death.

Fire burned in his chest. He could feel the blood and life draining from him.

“Mitch!” Sydney dropped to her knees beside him, pressing the handkerchief to his chest.

“Jesus, Juls, what did you do?” Patrick’s panicked voice cut through the fog.

“He won’t get in the way anymore.” Julia’s voice sounded calm, considering what she’d just done. “Is he dead?”

Mitch wasn’t afraid to die, but he wasn’t ready for it now. His best chance at avoiding getting shot again was to pretend he was dead. It shouldn’t be that hard. He was nearly there. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.

“Oh, God, Mitch. No, no, no, no…” Sydney wept over him, her hands pressed to his chest.

“Have you gone insane? Give me that!”

Mitch was sure only a few seconds had passed from when Julia shot him until Patrick made an attempt to get the gun, but it felt like an eternity.

“What were you thinking? Oh my God, Julia… I’m calling 911.”

“No, don’t,” Julia screeched. “He’s in the way.”

“I can’t believe you did this! Yes, I have an emergency.” Patrick rattled off their location in the park.

“Mitch.” Sydney kept her hands over his wound, jiggling him. “Come on, Mitch, wake up.”

Hoping Patrick was successful in wrangling the gun from Julia, he peeked an eye open.

“That’s right, Mitch. Stay with me.”

One look in her eyes told him it didn’t look good. She would know. She was a doctor. So there was only one thing left to do.

He reached for her hand, slick and warm from his blood.

“Syd.” His throat was dry and gritty, like sandpaper. His lungs burned with the need for air he couldn’t suck in.

“Don’t talk, Mitch. Save your strength.”

He squeezed her hand. “Syd. I love you.”

“Just lie still. Help is coming.”

She wasn’t paying attention. “I love you. I never stopped.”

Her tear-filled eyes gazed into his. “Oh, Mitch.”

“I messed up, but I’ve always loved you. Always.”

“Then fight.” She leaned over and pressed her lips gently against his. “Fight.”

He still hurt, but a sense of peace spread through him. She knew he loved her. Now he could go. He closed his eyes and let the darkness come.

S
ydney sat
in the hospital in a daze. Even as she replayed it in her mind, she couldn’t put what happened together in a way that made sense. Her best friend from childhood had stabbed her, stabbed Jenny, and shot Mitch. Yes, Julia had always been adamant the three of them stay together, but how could she commit murder to make it happen?

Julia’s actions brought home just how earth-shattering, life-altering, a betrayal could be. How could she not have seen how unhinged Julia was? No wonder Mitch had closed off the world. She didn’t know if she could have confidence to make the right decisions about people when one of the friends she trusted the most could commit such a heinous act.

And Mitch. Oh, God. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if it would rid her mind of the memory of him jerking and falling to the ground. The warmth of his blood as it oozed through her fingers, despite her attempt to stop it.

She remembered his memories of losing Brian. Of holding his best friend and not being able to do anything to save him. Her heart had broken for him as he spoke. Now she understood that torture. She knew the helplessness and hopelessness of holding someone as he waited to die. And the guilt. So much guilt. Because of her, he was fighting for his life.

“Syd, I love you.” His words echoing in her mind made the guilt even worse. Why hadn’t she told him she loved him back? What if he died without knowing she loved him too? She’d always loved him. She loved him even more now.

If he lived, and he still wanted a relationship, even just friendship, she’d give it to him.
God, please let him live.

“Hey, you okay?” Patrick sat next to her in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs.

“I thought you’d be with Julia.” She didn’t hold it against him. Patrick and Julia were so close. She imagined he was feeling the same shock, maybe even worse. He was a psychiatrist and somehow hadn’t seen how disturbed his sister was.

“If he dies, Patrick…”

Patrick put his arm around her. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. I’ve called his family and they should be here any moment.”

“You called? God, I should have done that.”

“It was the least I could do. Julia has been arrested and will be given a psychiatric evaluation within the next few days.”

“How could she do this?”

He shook his head, leaned forward, and rested it between his hands. “I didn’t see it either, Sydney. I just didn’t see it.”

Sydney pressed a hand on his back.

“Maybe if I’d told her sooner about me…”

“What about you?”

He turned his head to look at her. “I’ve been seeing someone. Not for long, but I care about her. I hadn’t told Julia because you know how she is…” He paused. “The fact that I say that suggests there were signs and I ignored them.”

Sydney rubbed his back. “I’m glad you’re seeing someone.”

“What can I do for you? Do you want me to call your parents?” He straightened and scrubbed his hands down his face as if the gesture could rid the guilt and horror. She’d already tried that and knew it didn’t work.

“I don’t want to deal with them now. They’ll find out soon enough.”

“Are you sure? What else can I do?”

“Nothing, unless you can turn back time.” For a moment, she thought about what her life would have been if she’d ignored her parents and married Mitch when he returned from boot camp. But going there was simply an exercise in torment. That was the thing about life. One couldn’t ever really know what might have been. She only had now. And now she was in more pain than when she’d been stabbed.