Prodigal Son
Authors: Jayna King
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Romance
SAVAGE SONS MC
Prologue
Friday, July 2, 1982 - Flagstaff, Arizona
S
able Bellamy tossed her backpack into the passenger side of her 1974 Chevrolet Caprice Classic, and she turned around to give her friend, Jennifer, one last hug.
“Thanks again. For everything,” Sable whispered into Jennifer’s ear before letting go.
“You be careful,” Jennifer said for the third time, reluctant to say goodbye to the girl she’d first met twelve years before during first grade orientation at Colfax Elementary School in Denver, Colorado. “You have change for the pay phone if anything goes wrong, don’t you?” Jennifer asked, worried about the dozens of things that could happen to a pretty eighteen-year-old girl on the road alone.
“I do, and I’ll be fine. Nothing’s going to happen. Thanks to you and your parents, I have a fresh start, and I’m not gonna waste it.” Sable opened her car door and stepped back as the heat rolled out of the long black car. “Hope my a/c holds out,” she said as she walked around to roll down the passenger window, hoping to get some air moving inside the car that felt more like an oven.
“Say hi to Daniel for me when he gets home, and don’t you dare forget to call and let me know when you get in, okay?”
“Will do.” Sable checked to make sure that her map of Arizona, folded to show the route from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon, was tucked beneath her backpack. “I think I’m all set. I’ll call you tomorrow night when I get home.”
Jennifer stood at the curb, watching as Sable pulled away from the house, and turned toward the highway that would lead her north to the Grand Canyon. She waved one last time and headed back inside, looking forward to the air conditioning even though it was only eight in the morning.
Sable drove away, blinking back tears and trying to distract herself with thoughts of the Grand Canyon — a sight she’d never seen. She realized that Independence Day was just two days away, and she took a deep breath, placing her hands deliberately at ten and two on the steering wheel, determined to think of her drive as traveling toward a new life and toward liberty.
“I can’t change the past,” she said out loud. “I have to look forward toward my future.”
Sable had always talked to herself, for as long as she could remember. She tried to do it only when she was alone, but the conversations were so second nature that she was accustomed to being on the receiving end of strange looks wherever she was. She knew that people looked at her because she was pretty — young, petite, but with curves, and with the most gorgeous head of nearly black hair that most folks had ever seen. But she also knew that people looked at her because she walked around in conversation with herself half the time.
About an hour-and-a-half after she’d left Jennifer’s house, she pulled into the parking lot near the visitor’s center at Mather Point. She parked the car and gratefully stretched her legs as she got out.
“Guess I should crack the windows,” Sable said as she walked to the passenger side, rolled the window down a bit, locked the door, and closed it again. “Well, let’s go see this hole in the ground.”
After she took a long drink at the water fountain in the visitor’s center, Sable headed back outside for the short walk to the edge of the canyon. She didn’t really care much about how many years it had taken for the river to wear away the rock and create the natural wonder. She just wanted to see it and move on. Following the path toward the edge, Sable watched all of the families out enjoying a holiday weekend together. She smirked at frazzled parents pleading with their precious darlings to behave, and she walked to the edge of the canyon, brave as could be.
“Oh, my,” she whispered.
No one even glanced at her, because they’d all had the same reaction when they’d come up on the profoundly massive chasm, lined with rocks that almost looked like they’d been painted with the striking colors that showed off the layers of their composition. Sable decided to take a few minutes and let the scene sink in. She looked around, feeling a little sick to her stomach at the edge, and she found a rock off to the side. It was situated a few feet away from the edge, and it was a little out of the way. Sable took a seat and rested her tennis shoe-clad feet on a smaller rock that looked like it had been placed there as a footrest.
She sat, quiet and full of her own thoughts. She watched birds floating on the thermal currents in the canyon, rising and falling in a way that looked effortless.
“Easy and free,” Sable said as she watched the birds, wheeling and turning in a descending spiral.
“Pardon?”
Sable was startled when she heard the man’s voice, and looked over to see a man about her father’s age. He wore a U.S. Marine Corps hat, studded with pins.
“Sorry,” Sable apologized. “I was talking to myself. I do it all the time.”
“That’s all right, honey. I just thought you were talking to me.”
Sable watched the man walk away, back toward the visitor’s center, and she thought about Daniel. The man’s hat had reminded her of him, though he was never very far out of her thoughts. He was due home from the Persian Gulf in less than a month, and Sable had very mixed feelings about his return. They hadn’t parted on good terms, but the few letters he’d sent from overseas had tried to explain things, and Sable had agreed to give him another chance.
“It’s better if he doesn’t know everything,” she said, having looked around to make sure no one would overhear her.
She scanned the little overlook point, watching people creep toward the edge and peer into the depths. Parents clutched their children’s hands, though there was no way they could get past the barriers that the National Park Service had put in place. Sable wondered for a moment what that would feel like — to shoulder the responsibility for another person’s life.
“Too much for me,” she said, preparing to return inside, get another drink and get back on the road.
Just before she stood up, she saw a young couple walking toward Mather Point. The father held an infant in one arm, the little boy sound asleep, his head resting on his father’s chest. The young woman, who looked just a few years older than Sable, let go of her husband’s hand and walked closer to the edge, looked for a moment, and returned to take the infant from the man so that he could inch closer without endangering their child. Sable watched the woman shift the child so that he lay across her body. They were close enough that Sable could see that his hair was damp from the heat, and she watched the woman smooth the boy’s hair and tuck a few strands behind the ear of the sleeping child.
The man rejoined his wife and they headed toward the visitor’s center, leaving Sable still sitting on the rock, tears streaming down her face.
Saturday, May 4, 2013 - Denver, Colorado
I
had never been so glad to get out of my car as I was the day I arrived in Denver. I grabbed my ancient L. L. Bean backpack from behind my seat and groaned out loud as I stood up to stretch my legs. I handed the keys to the valet and pointedly ignored the skepticism in his expression. I waved off his offer to carry my bags, retrieved my large, nondescript duffel bag from the back of my dust-covered Jeep Wrangler, handed a couple of dollars to the man who looked like he wasn’t relishing the thought of climbing into my dirty, nearly ten-year-old car, and headed toward the hotel’s front door.
I started to reach for the door, but before I could grab the handle, a bellman beat me to it.
“Welcome to the Ritz Carlton, sir”
I nodded at him as I walked into the luxurious lobby and headed for the front desk.
“Checking in,” I said to the man behind the counter, whose trendy eyeglasses looked like they’d come direct from Italy and whose suit — I shit you not — looked like it had been handmade.
“Welcome to the Ritz Carlton. The last name on your reservation, please?”
“Callaway. First name Luke.”
I watched the man’s eyes widen slightly as he read the information on the screen and read it a second time to confirm. When he spoke, there was a greater tone of deference in his voice.
“We have you in our Ritz Carlton Suite — our largest and most luxurious. The reservation appears to be open ended, Mr. Callaway. Do you know how long you’re planning to stay with us?”
“Not yet. At least a week, as long as you don’t need the room before then.”
“We’re happy to accommodate you for as long as you like, sir.”
I smothered a laugh. I’d had a feeling that they didn’t have people lined up around the block to pay nearly a grand per night for their fanciest suite. I probably shouldn’t have booked the biggest suite, but I felt like splurging.
“I’ll have one of the valets take your bags up and show you around your home for the week, if you’d like, sir.”
“Nah. I can manage.” I was looking forward to seeing the ridiculously enormous set of rooms that I’d be paying for, but I didn’t need people kissing my ass any more than they already were.
“Very good, sir. We’ll just authorize your card, which will put a hold of four hundred dollars on your account. Is that acceptable?”
“Fine.”
“You’re all set. Thank you for staying at the Ritz Carlton, Mr. Callaway. Please let us know if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more enjoyable.”
“Will do,” I said, as I took the card key and headed for the elevators. I was looking forward to the view.
The room was ridiculous and I loved it. I wondered what my buddies from college would think if they could see me at the moment that I walked into the rooms that, at over three thousand square feet, were twice as big as my condo back in Flagstaff. They’d be envious for a minute, I realized, until they realized where my newfound wealth had come from. I shook my head, determined not to wallow in self-pity any longer than I already had.
I was going to be grateful for the good things in my life — more money than I ever thought I’d see, a job that was flexible enough to give me an indefinite leave of absence to sort out the bombshell that my parents had dropped on me, and…well, I couldn’t really think of anything else that was good in my life at the moment. The huge gaping hole — the center of my life that had been ripped away a week ago — kept me from feeling terribly sunny.
I missed my parents. I was certain that I always would.
I dropped my bags just inside the door and walked over to the huge windows that looked out onto the Rocky Mountains.
“What am I gonna do?” I wondered out loud as I looked into the sun that was about to set just behind the mountains.
I turned away from the window and took a walk through the rooms. There was a dining room with a table set for six people, several seating areas, a bath with a huge soaking tub that looked out over the city and the mountains, and the bedroom…wow. It was a shame that I’d be sleeping in that big bed all by myself.
Grabbing my bags from the living room, I brought them into the bedroom, taking a few minutes to unpack into the dresser and put my suitcase away in the closet. I didn’t see the point of cluttering up such a gorgeous room with my ratty old bag. I pulled a thick folder, embossed with the logo of my parents’ attorney, from my backpack and I headed back out to the living room.
