More Than Friends (11 page)

Read More Than Friends Online

Authors: Susan Mallery

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: More Than Friends
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“How can you say that? I’ve treated you so badly since I’ve been back. Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me walk away all those years ago? How could you let me think you’d betrayed me? How could you let me think you didn’t care?”

It was beginning, she thought. “I did care, but at the time I didn’t know what…” She sighed. “Do we have to talk about this? I’m fine now.”

“Are you?” He took another step, stopping only inches from her. Then he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to continue to hold his gaze. “I don’t believe that.”

Alec hadn’t believed it, either. Oh, he’d known she’d recovered from the trauma, but he’d suspected there was another secret. Not as dark or as scary, but more powerful. The secret of loving and waiting for Chase.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

His pain was her undoing. If he’d been angry or ashamed of her, she would have been able to tell him it was none of his business and send him on his way. His fingers felt warm against her skin. Calluses, earned through physical labor and time, rubbed against her cheek. His mouth, firm but tender, pulled into a straight line. Only that morning she’d tasted his desire, had feasted on passion long-denied. Now deep lines bracketed the straight lips. A frown drew dark eyebrows together. Stubble shadowed the hollows of his cheeks and outlined the strength of his jaw. This face, familiar and strange, all man, but retaining echoes of the boy, weakened her resolve.

“I would have slain dragons for you,” he whispered. “Conquered the world.” He swallowed. “Sold my soul. You never gave me the chance.”

She closed her eyes. A single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. He brushed the moisture with his thumb. The gesture, one he’d performed so many times before, made her smile.

“I wasn’t looking to be rescued,” she said. “I needed—”

“What?”

“A magical way to turn back time so it never happened in the first place. No one could do that. Not even you.”

He swore violently under his breath. She flinched. He dropped his hand and swore again. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gotten drunk, I would have been able to drive you home. Then it would never have happened.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

He turned away and leaned against the doorframe, facing the tiny hallway. “It’s the truth.”

“No.” She touched his arm; he shook her off. “Listen to me.” She moved to face him. “It
just happened
. It’s nobody’s fault. There’s no blame here. Not for you or me. I asked you to get the alcohol. You didn’t want to. You could have easily said no, but I knew you’d do anything for me.”

He looked haunted. She knew how that felt.

“There’s nothing you could have done,” she said.

“I could have done something. Beat him up. Made him marry you. Something to make it right.”

She shook her head. “Do you think I’d want to marry the man who raped me?”

“No, of course not.”

“My father sent the police after him, but he’d left the carnival. We talked about hiring a private detective.” She rubbed the side of her head as if she could force the memories back into the dark corners of her mind. “I just wanted to put it behind me.”

“I would have found him.” Chase’s hands clenched into fists.

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d get crazy and want to punish the guy.”

“Is that wrong? Should I be happy about what happened?”

“No.”

He frowned. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Come here.”

She tugged on his arm. He resisted at first, then allowed her to lead him to the small sofa under the living-room window. The sun had begun its nightly descent. After seating Chase, she reached over and turned on the lamp in the corner, then went into the kitchen. She returned carrying two long-neck beer bottles and handed him one.

She sat on the floor, with her back to the couch, then took a long drink. She hadn’t told the story in years. Time was supposed to be the great healer, but she could already feel her stomach tightening up in knots. Clearing her mind, she forced her emotions to the back of her consciousness. It had been over a long time ago. It couldn’t hurt anymore.

Chase’s long legs stretched out beside her. She studied his worn leather cowboy boots, the much-washed denim covering his calves.

“It happened so fast,” she said at last. “One minute we were talking and the next—” She took another swallow. “I fought. As much as I could. He was bigger and for several minutes I didn’t realize he meant to go all the way.”

Beside her Chase stiffened. She didn’t dare turn and look at him. The fear of his disgust and pity was too great.

“When it was over and he drove me home, I couldn’t even get out of the car. He told me to go, but I just laid there. Stunned, bleeding, crying.” She stared at the carpet, noting it, like many other things in the house, needed replacing. “Finally, I crawled out and went into the house.”

“Jenny—”

She shook her head to silence him. “The worst part was I blamed myself. I felt responsible, as if I’d done something wrong. Getting in his car was stupid. I see that now, but no one deserves to suffer that badly for a mistake. This was Harrisville, for God’s sake. Things like that don’t happen here.”

She paused, unable to go on. A few deep breaths and she got control again. Chase touched her head. Long fingers toyed with the strands of hair, pressed reassuringly against her neck. She leaned back, savoring the warm contact, then continued with her story.

“I was afraid to tell anyone. I thought I’d get in trouble. That my family would be ashamed of me and know that I’d done something so awful.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said.

“I know that now. But it’s taken me a lot of time to figure that out.”

“I would have listened.”

“Would you? Really? Think about it, Chase. We were kids. You would have wanted to run off half-cocked and kill the guy. Admit it, that’s what you’re feeling.”

“You’re right,” he said softly, continuing to stroke her hair.

“And I was too afraid of losing you. I thought I’d get over it in a few days. I’d been raped, but I hadn’t made love, so I knew you’d still be my first time.”

The tears burned hot, but she blinked them away.

“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?” he asked. “Why did you let me go on the way I did?”

“I made the decision to keep silent when it happened. There’s been so much going on. It’s been eleven years. I wasn’t sure the past would still matter to you. I knew you were upset about your dad and everything, it just seemed easier to keep quiet.”

“Easier for me, you mean.”

“Yes.”

“Jenny, I—” he cleared his throat “—I understand why you didn’t tell me, then or now, but I wish you had.” He sighed.

“I know. When I found out I was pregnant, I had to tell my parents. It took me a long time to work up the courage to tell them about the rape. By then it was too late—you were gone.”

His fingers stilled. “I would have come back if I’d known.”

She bowed her head. “I would have told you if I could have found you. It’s silly, but that still hurts.”

“Yeah.”

The room was silent. Jenny traced circular patterns on the carpet with the beer bottle. In the hallway, an old clock chimed the hour.

“Did you get help?” he asked.

“About a year later, I started seeing a counselor. She got me involved with a group. It took some time, but I’ve healed.”

“I should have been here with you. I would have stood by you no matter what.”

“You can’t know that.”

He set his beer on the floor and leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. “I can and I do. Dammit, Jenny, you meant the world to me. I would never have turned my back on you.”

“We were so young. We had all these plans. That night changed everything. I’m glad you got away. You were supposed to.” She half turned and looked up at him. “Getting out of Harrisville was what you always wanted.”

He stared down at her. His tan couldn’t hide the ashen tint underneath. “It was supposed to be
our
goal. I thought we wanted to get away together.”

“It was a beautiful dream, Chase, but it would never have worked.”

“Why?”

“We were children, with the hopes and plans children make.” She glanced at her clothes. “Look at me. I’m blue-collar, through and through. And you—”

“I’m a construction worker.”

“No. You’re the steel mill owner’s son. It was fun to be Cinderella. You made high school magical. The son of the richest man in town falling for the union president’s daughter. It plays great in literature or on TV, but not in real life. I grew up.”

“You sold out.” His dark eyes glittered in the lamplight. “You had the chance, but you didn’t take it. You could have left, but you were afraid.”

“In the beginning I stayed because I had nowhere else to go. But in the end, I stayed because I wanted to.”

“And now?”

“I belong here.”

He shook his head. “Not me. I’ve never belonged. And as soon as I can, I’m leaving again.”

It was right for him to get out, she acknowledged. Chase had made his dream come true. He’d earned his reward. But why did it have to hurt so much? She’d barely survived losing him eleven years ago. Then she’d been a teenager, full of hope for the future. It had never occurred to her she wouldn’t forget him.

But Alec had showed her the truth. She might not still love Chase, but she’d never love anyone else. Her life was in Harrisville; as for Chase, he was counting the hours until his escape.

It was already too late, she thought. It was like trying to stop a speeding train. Heartbreak was rushing to mow her down and she could only stand helplessly and wait for it to happen.

Chapter Six

T
he phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the silence of the night. Jenny scrambled to her feet and walked across the room. She picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

She listened for several seconds, then covered the mouthpiece. “It’s Terry, from the hospital. She says that your father seems to be regaining consciousness.”

Chase rose. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”

Jenny concluded the conversation and hung up. “He’s pretty out of it and not making much sense, but you might be able to talk to him.”

He started toward the door, then paused. “I feel like we haven’t finished all we had to say.”

“I know, but you need to be at the hospital right now.”

“I’ll call you later.”

“No. Don’t call.”

He looked surprised. “Why? Don’t you want to—”

“Just come back when you’re done.”

“Here? It might be late.”

He was offering her an out. The problem was she didn’t want one. “The guest room and I will be waiting.”

“I don’t want to make trouble.” She could read the indecision in his eyes.

“You mean the neighbors might talk?”

He nodded.

“Let them.” She smiled. “I’m a big girl, Chase. I can take care of myself. I answered all your questions about the past. The least you can do is be honest with me. Or don’t you want to stay here?”

His half smile, so full of pain and need, made her long to go to him. But this wasn’t the time.

“I’ll be back before midnight,” he promised. “If it’s going to be any later, I’ll call.” He opened the front door, then turned back to her. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” She walked to the open door. Placing a hand on his arm, she rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. He was warm and alive. The stubble tickled her lips; his scent made her long for his embrace.

A declaration, not of love but of need and compassion, hovered on her lips. She swallowed it knowing he would misunderstand her purpose. He needed time to absorb all that had happened. So did she. When he returned, they’d pick up where they’d left off.

*

Chase walked down the path toward his Bronco. The temperature had dropped with the falling sun. He shrugged into his worn leather jacket, then slid onto the seat and started the engine. Disconnected thoughts whirled through his head. Kaleidoscope pictures blending and blurring, overlapping until he couldn’t separate what he remembered from what Jenny had told him.

Over the sound of the engine and the soft country song from the radio, he heard her cries of distress, the ripping of her dress, the panic of her “No!” He could taste her tears, smell her fear, feel her blood. Dark and ugly, the urge to kill a man—
the
man—burned hot and low in his belly.

And he did nothing. She was right; he would have sought revenge. Exacted a price for the crime. Standing by her would have been easy, staying beside her on her terms, impossible. Even now he reacted from instinct.

The hospital loomed up ahead. For the third time that day, he made his way through the halls. This time, he didn’t bother buzzing before he entered the Cardiac Care unit. Terry, looked up at his approach.

“I’m glad you could make it,” she said, coming forward and smiling. “He’s not all here, but he is talking. The medication to help his rest will start to work in about fifteen or twenty minutes, then he’ll sleep through the night. If all goes well, he should be awake in the morning.” She studied him. “You look awful.”

“Is that your professional opinion?”

“You bet. Have you eaten today?”

“Lunch.”

“It’s already seven-thirty. Your blood sugar is hanging down around your knees. Don’t you know how important it is to eat well-balanced meals, properly spaced?”

Chase reached out and tapped her nose. “You must be a great mom.”

“Sweet talk will get you absolutely nothing. So save it for the day staff.”

She led the way into the small room. Leaning over his father, she took his pulse and spoke softly. “Mr. Jackson, your son is here. Can you hear me?”

“Denise?” the old man on the bed murmured. “I can’t see you. Where are you?”

“Right here,” Terry said, smoothing back his thin white hair. She looked back at Chase. “Denise was your mother’s name, wasn’t it?”

He nodded.

“He’s been talking to her for about half an hour. Maybe if he hears your voice…” She shrugged. “Buzz me if you need anything or if he gets agitated.” She glanced at the clock. “He’s going to be asleep in a few minutes. Don’t worry if he doesn’t make sense. The drugs help him rest and heal, but they also make it hard for him to concentrate.”

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