No Second Chances (6 page)

But I’d meant what I’d said. Life was too short to hold ten-year-old grudges. We’d been kids, and I was sure we all would have done things differently with a little more life experience in the bank.

So you’re willing to forgive Taylor for how she acted back then, but you won’t forgive Cole?

I shoved the annoying voice which had piped up in my head to the back of my mind.

“Of course,” I said with a smile. “Let’s start over fresh. I know I could still use some friends in this town.”

Her face brightened and she brought her hands clasped against her chest as though she hugged herself with pleasure. “Thanks so much, Gabi. You always were the one who had her head screwed on.”

The front door clicked open and everyone turned to the sound. A couple of seconds later, my dad’s head poked around the door. His eyes widened as he saw us all there, and then he stepped into the room.

“Girls,” he said, as though we were all still teenagers. “How good of you to come and visit Gabi.”

Jasmine smiled. “It’s our pleasure, Mr. Weston.”

“Look at you, all grown up. I know you’ve been around town, but I never really knew what to say.”

“No problem, Mr. Weston.”

He waved a hand. “Oh, call me Bill now. You’re all grown women. I can’t have you talking to me as though we’re not equals.”

A yell and a cry came from the back yard.

“What on earth was that?” I exclaimed.

Taylor jumped to her feet. “Shit, Oliver!”

We all rushed to the back door. Oliver was on his feet, but clutching his arm.

I bit my lower lip. “Is he okay?”

Taylor had rushed over to her son, and had her arm around him. “Yeah, he’s okay. Just slipped as he was climbing down.” She gave a tight smile. “Guess that was our cue to leave.”

“Sure he’s going to be all right?”

“Yes, it’s only a bruise. He’s a boy. A day doesn’t go by where he’s not injuring himself in some way.” Taylor ruffled her son’s fine blond hair, so like her own.

I saw them all to the front door.

“Well, I hope we’ll see you around,” said Jasmine. “Maybe we could meet for coffee sometime?”

“Or wine?” said Taylor, and we all laughed.

“Sounds like a great idea,” I said. And it did. Though I’d had comrades during my time in the Army, and we’d been close, it wasn’t the same as having girlfriends. There was always a certain amount of watching what you said, being a woman in the Army, joining in with the banter, while still wanting everyone to take you seriously.

I liked the idea of having friends again.

Chapter Eleven

Gabi - Eleven Years Earlier

“What the hell
is going on with you and Cole?”

The accusation chased me up the school hall as I was hurrying to get to my next class on time.

I blinked in surprise and turned to find Taylor behind me, her hands on her hips, her lips pressed together in a hard line.

“Sorry?”

Her nostrils flared as she stared at me. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

I glanced either side of me, as I noticed other students had started to get an inkling that something was about to go down. They were like piranha fish—just a hint of blood being spilled was enough to get them circling. “Seriously, Taylor. I have no idea.”

“Then why have I got people telling me that you two are acting cozy as anything, walking around with your arms around each other?”

The penny dropped. Someone must have told Taylor about Cole putting his arm around me in the hall the other day.

“He put his arm around me while we were walking. He was just being friendly—I promise there’s nothing going on.”

“Really? So he doesn’t call me, and then he’s seen all over you? What am I supposed to think?”

I was starting to get exasperated now. “Taylor, I haven’t done anything wrong. He even asked me to meet him for lunch, and I said no partly because I was already meeting you guys, but also because I didn’t want to upset you.”

I’d said the wrong thing. Her expression dropped. “He asked you to eat lunch with him?”

“Err, yeah, but just in a friendly way. There’s nothing going on,” I said again, sounding like a broken record.

“I thought you said he’d asked us to the band practice the other day because he liked me?”

I realized I’d given her the wrong idea then, too. “Well, no, not exactly. I said he’d invited me to band practice and told me to bring some friends if I wanted. I assumed he was just using me to get to you. I mean, all the guys at Willowbrook High try to hit on you.”

Her eyebrows shot up her forehead. “No, they don’t!”

“Yeah, they do. What’s not to like?”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please.”

“Anyway, I’m not talking about lots of guys. I’m talking about one guy who I thought liked me, and now apparently likes my BFF instead.”

I threw up my hands. “He doesn’t like me! He just invited me somewhere, and then I stopped him and asked him a question, so he put his arm over my shoulders while we walked. None of that is definitive proof of someone liking someone else.”

She didn’t look convinced, and I had to admit, a thread of doubt had even started to weave its way inside me. Why had he invited me to his band practice if it hadn’t been to hit on either Taylor or Jas? Was it just that he’d spotted me sitting on the grass, with my skirt too short and riding up my thighs, and I’d looked like an easy target?

My face heated. Shit. Did he think I was easy? Had someone else said something?

The total opposite was true, but you never knew what sort of stories were going around the rumor mill. But yet, if that was the case, why did he barely acknowledge me at practice the other night? Did Cole think flirting with a girl’s friend was one way of getting her attention?

“Hello?” Taylor said, continuing our argument. “I think you’re kidding yourself. But if you don’t even like the guy, maybe you can move out of the way for someone who actually does?”

What was she asking me? That I shouldn’t have any contact with Cole so she could step in? There wasn’t even anything to step into, yet for some reason the thought of giving Taylor the green light made me uneasy. Taylor always got what she wanted, and the idea of her getting Cole suddenly twisted me up inside.

She must have noticed my hesitation or recognized the expression of doubt I felt sure was on my face.

“You
do
like him, don’t you? Jeez, Gabi. So you’re going after my leftovers now? How about coming over to my house and going through the trash as well?”

I felt like she’d slapped me. “What?”

“You heard me. These aren’t exactly the behaviors of a best friend, Gabi!”

And with that, she spun on her heels and stormed off down the hall.

People were sniggering behind their hands, exchanging glances and whispering to each other. I’d just about had enough of being the hall gossip for the time being. I’d spent most of my high school life being invisible, and I didn’t want that to change any time soon.

It seemed as though if Cole Devonport was in my life that was exactly what would happen.

Chapter Twelve

Gabi - Eleven Years Earlier

To delay going
home, I’d spent most of the evening studying in the library.

When eventually I forced myself back to the house, I discovered the front door wide open. I paused, my heartrate instantly picking up, climbing into my throat. It wasn’t like my dad to leave the door open. Did we have an intruder? I knew he was off tonight, and I thought he’d be catching up on some sleep after working nights for the last few shifts.

Then I realized his vehicle was missing from the driveway. He must have gone out, but then why would he have left the front door wide open? Security was normally one of his things.

“Hello?” I called out, not sure if I wanted a response or not. If a burglar was currently trashing our house, it wasn’t as though he was going to answer me.

I entered into the entrance hall. “Hello?” I called again. “Dad?”

The place felt empty, no sense of life coming from within its walls. I hurried into the living room, every inch of my being alert for any sound. Ears straining, nostrils flared, muscles tensed for fight or flight. Even my skin felt as though it were hyper-sensitized, as though I might be able to feel the movement of someone in the air before I heard it. This was a safe neighborhood, and rarely did we hear of a break-in, but there was always a first time.

I entered the living room and my heart sank. Beside the couch lay an empty bottle of vodka and several empty cans of beer, crumpled up and tossed.

“Ah, shit.”

Dad had gone on another binge.

That, in itself, wasn’t unusual. It was like him to have a couple of days off work and then have a heavy drinking session. It was as though he was able to restrain himself while he was working, and keep a handle on things, but then as soon as he didn’t have the responsibility of going to work, all his restraints went out the window.

What was unusual, however, was the fact the front door was open and the car was gone.

I prayed someone else was driving, and the door had swung open in the wind. Even letting someone else drive would get him in trouble, but not half as much trouble as if he was driving drunk out of his head. I dreaded the thought of him being on the road, with the innocent people he might be putting in danger. If he ran someone down, he’d never forgive himself, and
I’d
never forgive
myself
for not doing something about his drinking sooner.

Clinging to some final threads of hope, I raced around the house, praying I’d find him slumped in a drunken stupor somewhere. I took the stairs two at a time, but when I checked all the rooms, including my bedroom and the bathroom, it became clear he was nowhere in the house.

I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. There would be time for self-pity, and anger, and frustration later. Right now, I just needed to find him. I wished I could call Taylor, but she was still mad with me because of the whole Cole Devonport thing, and anyway, I couldn’t call her, because that would mean having to tell her the truth about Dad’s drinking, and I couldn’t risk doing that. Word got around too quickly, and if someone got wind he was drinking too much, it would be the end of everything for him. I couldn’t say a word to anyone.

One thing I knew for sure, the house was empty. Wherever my dad was, he wasn’t here.

I grabbed my purse and keys, and ran back out of the house. I hesitated at the door, wondering if I should lock it behind me or not. If Dad returned and didn’t have any keys on him, he wouldn’t be able to get back in. Then I reasoned that he must have his house keys on the keychain for the car. Hell, he could just sit in the car for all I cared. At least it would mean he’d gotten home safely.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to cover much ground on foot, so I set off at a jog. There were a few places I knew my dad liked to go—the cliff-face overlooking the cove, or down at the park. I prayed he hadn’t gone to a bar. Even smashed drunk, I hoped he had enough sense to stay out of the center of town.

I checked all the usual places, the dread inside me thickening to a sludge which seemed to trickle through my veins. I was exhausted now, my jog slowed to a walk, and I was barely dragging my feet off the ground. I was so angry with my dad for doing this to me—he was so selfish when it came to booze—and I was frustrated by my own lack of action. I’d tell him, I decided. I’d tell him he needed to get help, and we couldn’t go on living like this. I wished I could give him some kind of ultimatum to push him in the right direction, but then I remembered how people only got help when they wanted it themselves. I had a feeling my dad was lying to himself as much as he was to me about how much he drank.

Above my head, the sky rumbled ominously.

I glanced up to realize I hadn’t even noticed the thick grey storm clouds which had rolled in while I’d been so desperately trying to find my only parent. I’d been stupid, really, thinking I could find a man in a car, when I was just a girl on foot. I had no idea where he was, but at least I hadn’t noticed police car sirens or seen a multi-car pileup anywhere.

A fat, warm droplet smacked me on the forehead, then another, and another. In my rush, I hadn’t even thought to bring a jacket. The sky opened up in a deluge, soaking me to the skin within seconds. My t-shirt clung to my skin and my skirt slapped around my thighs as I walked.

“You have got to be kidding me!” I cried up at the sky, my face upturned.

Did everyone just want to dump on me? When was I going to catch a god-damned break?

A couple of vehicles passed me. The light was fading now, headlights shining in the gloom. I suddenly became aware I was a young woman, out walking alone when it was almost dark. I was also soaked and my clothes stuck embarrassingly to my skin. I used my thumb and forefinger to pinch my t-shirt away from my chest. I literally looked like a contestant in a walking wet-t-shirt competition.

A truck pulled up alongside me and I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, my body tensed, willing the person to go away. The last thing I needed right now was to be cat-called and hassled by a car full of jocks who thought they were being funny.

“Gabi?”

A male voice shouted at me from out of the driver’s open window.

My name, someone who knew me.

I glanced cautiously to one side, a combination of rain and tears dripping from my eyelashes, so I had to blink to clear my vision. I didn’t recognize the truck, and I picked up my pace, close to breaking into a run. Could my day get any worse?

“Gabi, hey, it’s Cole. Hang on a minute!”

I drew to a halt. Cole?

Turning to the truck, I pushed my sodden hair out of my face and squinted at the vehicle. He leaned across the passenger seat and pushed open the door. “Get in, will you? It’s pouring.”

I glanced up at the sky as though I hadn’t noticed, blinking as fresh raindrops hit my eyes. “I’ll get the seat all wet,” I said, stupidly.

“It’ll dry. Just get in.”

I didn’t have much option, did I? So far this evening, all of my choices were wrong anyway, so I might as well make another stupid one. Cole Devonport wasn’t about to abduct me and have his wicked way with me—not looking like this, anyway. Drowned rodents came to mind.

I climbed into the truck and slammed the door shut behind me. I dripped onto the floor, water running into my face. He reached behind the passenger seat and pulled out a hooded sweatshirt.

“Here,” he said, handing it to me.

I looked at him dumbly and he gave it another gentle push into my hands. “You can dry yourself with it.”

“Oh, right, thanks.”

I took his sweatshirt and used it to dry the rain from my face and hair. The material smelled of him, Lynx deodorant, and musky boy smell. It was a good smell—comforting—and I found myself pressing the sweater against my face for longer than was probably suitable. I didn’t want him to notice I’d been crying. When people thought something was wrong they asked questions, and right now I didn’t have any answers.

When I removed his sweatshirt from my eyes, I found him staring at me.

“What?” I said.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re wandering around in the rain at almost ten at night?”

Crap. Was it really that late? I’d completely lost track of time.

I shrugged. “I was taking a walk and got caught in the rain.”

“Seriously? Who even takes walks these days?”

I bristled. “I do!”

“Okay, okay,” he replied. “Whatever you say.”

“I do like to walk,” I muttered.

Cole’s lips twisted as he regarded me. “Yeah, well, you don’t have to tell me what’s going on. That’s your business, and believe me, I know how it feels when everyone wants to know your business. But if you ever need someone to talk to, you know where I am.”

I appreciated him not pressuring me. “Thanks, Cole.”

“So you want me to drive you home?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

A smile quirked his lips. “You don’t want to walk?”

I smacked him on the arm. “Don’t tease.”

He laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Are you going to tell me where home is?”

I gave him my address and then settled back in the seat as he pulled the vehicle away from the curb and headed toward my house. “Who does the truck belong to?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t seen him driving it before.

“My foster parents. The guys I play in the band with needed some gear moved and I offered to help.”

“They don’t have cars of their own?” I inquired, thinking as they were older they’d be more likely to have their own transport.

“Yeah, Ryan does, but he said it was in the shop.” He gave a shrug. “I don’t mind helping out.”

“How long have you been playing in the band?”

“About six months now.”

“And you enjoy it?”

He laughed. “Of course. I wouldn’t do it, otherwise. The band is the one thing I have where I don’t have to worry about all the other shit in my life. The guys can come off a bit cocky at times, but they’re all right, really.”

I didn’t intend on telling him about my instant dislike of the other band members. Maybe it was just because they were older, but they’d given me the distinct impression they looked down on us, Cole included.

He glanced over at me as he drove. “Aren’t your parents going to be worried about where you are?”

I shrugged. “It’s only my dad, and he doesn’t pay much attention to me. My mom took off when I was two, so I don’t even know where she is, and I doubt she’s given me a second thought.”

He gave a slow nod. “I know all about parents being screw-ups, seriously. My folks didn’t even want me around. Apparently I was off the rails because I snuck out a couple of times, and got drunk.” He shrugged. “They were just looking for an excuse to be free of me.”

“I’m sorry. My dad stuck around, at least, though there are days when I wonder if life would be easier if he hadn’t.” Immediately guilt swamped over me in a wave. Of all people, I shouldn’t have said that in front of Cole. He’d probably love to have a parent around, even if they were an alcoholic who embarrassed themselves in front of the whole town.

But to my surprise, he reached out with the hand not holding the wheel, and his fingers covered mine. His eyes appeared closer to grey than blue as he regarded me with a depth I’d not felt about him before. “Sometimes we just have to make the best of what we’ve got. None of it is ever easy.”

Surprise tears sprang to my eyes and I blinked them away, pulling my hand from his.

As we approached my house, my heart lifted with relief to see my dad’s car parked back in the drive.

Cole also spotted the vehicle. “Your dad’s home.”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t know what else to say.

“Are you okay going in there alone?” he asked me.

I forced a smile. “Of course I am.”

His blue eyes focused on mine, studying my face. I felt like he could read all my secrets as though they were tattooed upon my skin.

“You can tell me if you’re not, Gabi,” he said. “I’ve been in the position plenty of times where I haven’t wanted to go home.”

I appreciated his honesty. I could hear the pain in his words, saw the flash of discomfort across his face as he confessed this to me. I felt awful that I couldn’t be honest with him in return, but it wasn’t just my life I’d be messing with if I told him the truth.

A sudden impulse overtook me, and I leaned over and planted a kiss on Cole’s cheek.

His eyes widened, his lips tweaking in a grin. I had caught him by surprise.

“Thanks for the ride, Cole.” I opened the passenger door and slipped from the seat.

“Hey, Gabi,” he called to me, before I’d had the chance to slam the door shut.

I turned back to him, and he threw his sweatshirt at me. I snagged it from the air.

“So you don’t get cold.” He smiled at me.

I couldn’t help but smile back. He leaned across the passenger seat and pulled the door shut behind me.