Ruined (19 page)

"You did?"

"Remember the first day we met on the beach? When your keys fell into my bag?"

"Of course."

"They didn't fall into my bag. I wanted to meet you so bad that I swiped them from the top of your bag and then left early so you wouldn't figure it out," he says softly as he shakes his head looking at the ground.

I slowly walk closer, and I'm a little attracted to this shy, embarrassed side of Reed. "You wanted to meet me that badly?" I ask with a smile. His face turns red.

"Yep," he says looking into my eyes finally. I stand up on my tip toes and kiss his cheek, and he grins.

"You're a bad boy, Reed Miller. But that's just about the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." With that, I turn and walk down the beach with a whole new spring in my step.

***

The next couple of days pass without incident. I do more work at the station, as usual, and Reed is busy working on some extra programming he wants to run. Kellan has found a job working at the local fitness center as a trainer. Apparently he was able to get some kind of certification while he was in prison, and from the looks of him he knows his stuff. He eats fairly healthy, knows yoga and lifts weights so the fitness center was happy to have him.

It's Wednesday night, and I arrive home to find Bruce sitting outside drinking a beer and staring into the ocean. He hasn't been right since Kellan came home, and the relationship between he and my mother seems worse too. I feel like my family is falling apart, and I've experienced that in a totally different way before.

"Hey, Bruce," I say as I walk onto the deck.

"Hi, Willow." His tone is detached and he looks exhausted.

"You okay?"

"No. But what's new?" I sit down at the table and look at him. His eyes are sunken in, and he just seems worn down.

"Can I help?" He finally looks at me.

"I feel like a stranger in my own home, Willow. Kellan and I are at each other's throats. Your mother is always mad at me, and I know you're angry with me too."

"Not angry. But I do wish you'd give Kellan a chance. He is your son, after all."

"Don't you think I know that?" he snips. "I'm sorry. This isn't even your problem. Your best bet is to stay away from Kellan. I don't want you in trouble too."

"Bruce, he's not in trouble anymore. He has a fresh start. Why can't you just let him have it?"

"Those babies didn't get a fresh start. Their Daddy has to live without them forever, Willow." He stares into the ocean again.

"Is Kellan here?"

"Yes. Upstairs I think."

"Come inside. I have something to show you." I wasn't expecting to use the video this early, but the time has come. I don't want to leave town without these two men seeing the footage.

Bruce follows me inside, and I ask him to sit in the living room. I call my mother out of the kitchen and ask Kellan to come downstairs. He sprawls out in the floor on his side, and my mother sits across the room on the sofa. Bruce sits in his recliner, and for a moment it reminds me of my own father.

"I've called you all together because I can't stand this anymore," I say. "Bruce, your son made a fatal mistake five years ago. There's no doubt about that. But, refusing to give him a second chance isn't right. Everyone deserves a second chance if they know they did wrong and try to make it right."

"Willow, you don't have to..." Kellan says sitting up with a surprised look on his face.

"Willow, honey..." my mother starts.

"Quiet. Both of you. Please," I say sharply. My mother looks at me with shock. "We've all made mistakes. Some are way bigger than others. Some you can't take back. But the bitterness between you two has to stop. You're father and son, for goodness sake."

Bruce sighs and crosses his arms while Kellan leans back against the sofa and crosses his arms too.

"I wish I still had my Daddy, but I don't. Kellan wants a relationship with you, Bruce." Again Bruce sighs and looks away from all of us. "So, in an effort to heal this thing between you two, I did something drastic. Kellan, I hope this was okay." He looks at me confused, but I pop the DVD into the player and stand in the back of the room as it begins. It takes a moment for it to register to Bruce and Kellan who the man is on the screen, but when they do I see Bruce sit up on the edge of his chair.

My Mom starts weeping as the video plays. Bruce shakes his head a few times, but it's Kellan I'm watching. He sits with his knees pulled up toward his chest and he keeps running his fingers through his thick, dark hair. When David starts talking directly to Kellan, his eyes never leave the screen. He just stares without emotion, his eyes wide and almost glassy.

When it's over, I walk to the TV and turn it off.

"I can't believe he talked to you..." Bruce says. "But, I don't get it, Willow. Why did you go out of your way to do this for Kellan?"

"Because I care about your son, Bruce." Kellan's eyes dart up to mine. He says nothing before standing up and walking out the back door, slamming it behind him. I start toward the door to follow him, but Bruce stops me.

"Let me, okay?" he says softly as he walks quietly out the back door.

"God, I hope I did the right thing," I say to my mother. She shrugs and wipes a stray tear from her eye.

Kellan hasn't come home. After a couple of hours, I finally decide to go to bed so I can get up early for my road trip with Reed. My heart and mind are so conflicted. On the one hand, I do have feelings for him. He's kind and smart and steady. He likes me. He wants me. He's a good kisser. But he's also a clean record kind of guy. No smudges or marks. He knows what he wants, and he isn't going to want to be with someone like me who has a past that is tainted.

Then there's Kellan. He's rough and tough and scarred for life. He's seen things no one should ever see. He's sexy and manly and take charge. He's got a past, and he's more likely to accept me for mine. But is that what I should be looking for? Some guy with a past who won't think I'm trash? Is that settling? Am I only interested in Kellan because he's the bad boy? Because he won't judge me?

It's all too much to think about, and I have to get up early. It's already midnight, and as I stare out at the ocean from my balcony, I worry whether Kellan is okay right now.

I pull my hair out of the ponytail I've been wearing all day and slide into bed, nothing between me and the sheets but a silky nightshirt.

"Hey," I hear Kellan's voice in a whisper as he sits down on the side of my bed. I can only see his silhouette in the moonlight, and he's smiling. He takes his thick, rugged hand and rubs it down the side of my cheek. Am I dreaming?

"Hey. You okay?" I ask as I sit up and lean against my pillows.

"I'm so good, Willow. Better than I've been in a long time. Dad and I talked for hours, and I think we're going to be okay. And it's all because of you."

"You're not mad at me then?"

"Mad? Of course not, Willow..." he says softly as he brushes my hair behind my ear. "Why would I be?"

"You stormed out of here..."

"I'm sorry. I was just overcome with emotion. The courage you had to go down to Atlanta and do that was unbelievable to me. No one has ever done something like that for me. I am forever grateful to you, Willow." He leans in and kisses me softly on the forehead. Everything in my body feels on fire. I've never felt like this before, and I never want it to stop.

"Kellan, I..." But before I can say anything, he slides his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me in. His lips cover mine, and passion explodes between us. He bites my lower lip and puts his forehead to mine as we struggle for air. Both of our chests are heaving.

"Willow..." he groans as he takes my mouth once again. "My God, I've wanted to do this for so long..." he says as his tongue slides into my mouth and gives me a warmth I've craved for a lifetime.

I lean back against my pillows, pulling him with me. His bare chest presses against mine as I run my fingers through his hair. It's perfectly messy, and I want him right now like I've never wanted anyone. Or anything. His presence washes away the blemishes on my soul, and I crave him like a drug addict. The irony of how that relates to my past isn't lost on me.

His leg falls between mine and I can feel his excitement pressing against my abdomen. He's so close, and I know he's nothing like Billy Monroe. No, Kellan Avery is all man. Rock hard, sexy, flawed, emotionally charged. All male and all mine right now.

"God, I want you so bad, Willow..." he moans as he kisses up and down my neck sending shivers to my core and places southward.

"I want you too..." I respond, desperately rocking into him. He must think I'm slutty because I'm giving him every signal to go ahead. I'm the coach at home plate telling him to slide in. Okay, bad analogy.

"We can't...." he says pulling back to catch his breath. He stands up and moves a few feet from the bed avoiding my gaze.

"Why?" I ask as I sit up. My nipples are hard and showing under my silk night shirt, and I feel more rejected than I ever have.

"I can't ruin you too, Willow. Being with me right now is a bad idea. I'm not a whole man right now. I have work to do, and dragging you along would be bad for you. I can't ruin you too," he says as he walks toward the door. I jump up, chasing him across the room.

"I'm already ruined!" I shout in a whisper as he opens the door. But he's gone, and I hear his door click shut.

I stand there for a few minutes wondering why my life has to be such a train wreck. On the one hand, I have a nice, stable guy who wants me but I don't fully want him. Then I have another guy who I want more than life itself right now and he doesn't want to ruin me. If he only knew. That's it. He has to know. I have to say it. It's my only shot at not spending the night with my vibrator between my legs.

I walk across the hall and quietly open his door, hoping that he won't be mad at me for sneaking in. I hear the shower going, and dirty thoughts run through my mind. Maybe I should go. Maybe I am doing this for all the wrong reasons. For once in my life, I wish my path was straight. I wish that I knew just what to do for myself like I do for other people.

I sit on the edge of his bed, moonlight slightly illuminating the room. The water cuts off, and he finally walks out of the bathroom wearing only a towel. He sees me sitting there and sighs.

"Willow..."

"I killed my father." I just blurt it out. Four years of keeping my secret and that's how I say it.  I stand up slowly, ready to walk out. He walks to me and pulls me into an embrace, my face resting against his strong, warm chest.

"Oh, Willow...." he says softly as he kisses the top of my head and rubs my back. "Thank you for sharing your secret with me."

"I've never told anyone in Charleston," I say through soft sobs. He pulls me closer. "We left Seattle because of me."

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asks pulling back and looking at me. I nod and he pulls my hand over to the sitting area in his room. We sit down on the sofa, and I prepare to tell a story I never wanted to tell again.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Why didn't I meditate before this? I bite both of my lips and force myself to go back there in my mind. It's funny how I've tried to push it away all of these years, literally pushing the memories to the back of my mind, yet it all comes flooding back so quickly. Those walls I built, they weren't very strong.

"It was a Tuesday night. We weren't very well off financially, so my mother had a night job working at a local restaurant. My father was a teacher, a well respected local basketball coach. Everyone loved my father, including me. But there were secrets that no one knew. See, my father was a raging alcoholic. At school, he seemed like this normal guy who had it all. Beautiful wife, popular daughter. We lived a regular middle class lifestyle. Church on Sunday, mother in the PTA. The whole thing. But the secrets were piling up. Dad had been drinking bad for the previous few months. He'd started hitting me when he was upset which he'd never done before. When he wasn't drunk, he was the perfect father. So sweet and loving. But alcohol made him into this demon..." I say, going back in time in my mind. I can see my father smiling at me on Christmas morning when he gave me my first bicycle. I can see him pushing me in the swing, taking long walks with me. God, it's so hard to reconcile that man with the one he'd become when drinking. The memories overwhelm me and I start sobbing.