Secret Storm (16 page)

So why did she wonder now? Could one lie
destroy three years of friendship? Had he only been interested in
protecting himself all this time?

No. The first time they'd made love he'd told
her he would never hurt her like the other guys had.
"I care
about you."
Had that been just a few days ago? It felt like
forever. She'd believed him then. She wanted to believe him
now.

She groaned and laid her head on the steering
wheel, ignoring the sputtering engine. Jack's car was gone from the
parking lot.
Figures.
The one time she needed the thing to
break down and leave him stranded, it had started up and taken him
away.

She considered going out and finding him, but
what good would that do? He still flat-out refused to talk about
the terrible thing that had happened. Maybe he would talk to
someone else, but whom? Maybe Austin.
Oh, that would be
interesting.
They'd been friendlier since getting over their
relationship's bad end, but she wouldn't exactly call him a
friend.

A car pulled into the parking lot—one of her
neighbors. She checked the time, but found her wrist bare. What had
she done with her watch?
Oh, that's right.
She'd taken it
off before their football game, and Jack had put it in his pocket.
She couldn't live without her watch. If she went looking for him,
would he want to see her?

Oh, right.
She'd told him she couldn't
be with him.

He'd said he loved her.

She'd said she didn't believe him—but she'd
lied.

God, what am I going to do?
She beat
her head against the steering wheel. Something had to lift this
funk; dwelling in despair didn't suit her. Instead, she usually
just got mad and flew off the handle, venting her rage at any
convenient target—whether they deserved it or not.

So who's a good target?
She'd already
let Jack have it, and the poor guy hadn't been there to defend
himself. She'd beat herself up enough already. Now she was going to
involve someone else in this mess?

She recalled the events of the day: waking up
with Jack, football, pizza, making out, the phone call, then
fighting. Everything had gone to hell after the phone call from his
mother. Was she the problem? No, just a messenger. Sara couldn't be
mad at her. What had happened next?

Running away. Running to....

David.
He'd told her to come to him,
that she knew where to find him. He'd tossed out the bait, and
she'd swallowed it, running straight to him and letting him reel
her in.
That bastard.

He'd never said the word selfish—she had—but
he'd wanted her to believe Jack only looked out for himself. That
had been his mistake. Jack didn't know how to be selfish.

She turned off the engine and opened the car
door, but the urge to run hit her out of nowhere. She fought it. No
more running. She'd run away from Austin and it had taken years to
resolve the conflict between them. She'd run away from David, and
look what that had gotten her into. And Jack....

She wanted to run
to
Jack.

Why him? Why not Austin or any of the other
guys she'd dated before Jack? Why not someone she might date after
him? A determined smile curled her lips as the answer came to her.
She wanted Jack because she was just as stubborn as he was.

She could've tried harder with David. He'd
made her feel good—until he cheated—but even before that, she'd
craved a man who challenged her, a man who made her feel strong
when things got out of control and life got stormy, a man who put
his needs before hers whether she wanted him to or not.

She laughed. "Oh, Jack, you have no idea what
you've gotten yourself in to."

Fighting for him—or with him, more
likely—would take a lot of strength, but she would conquer her fear
by refusing to run and hide anymore. She wanted to be happy. Jack
did too. They could make each other happy. This afternoon had
proved it. She would make that man happy whether he needed it or
wanted it or not.

Inside, she found her cell phone on the
coffee table.
Mmm... coffee table.... We definitely need to
finish what we started there.
She turned off her phone without
checking for messages; no one she wanted to talk to yet. Needing
something to take the edge off her nerves, she grabbed a toffee bar
and poured a glass of wine. Thankfully, Jane hadn't totally
depleted her chocolate stash.

On a whim, she lit a short pillar candle,
letting its soft, steady flame calm her while she sipped the wine.
She finished the glass and poured another, feeling much better
now.

A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows and
Sara jumped, shivering as a cold draft blew over her skin. The
candle sputtered and went out.
Is that an omen?

She laughed at herself for being so silly.
Suddenly drained, she crawled into bed, resolved not to give up on
Jack. He'd waited three years to be with her; she'd make it worth
the wait.

Now she just needed to make a decision about
grad school.

Something sat on Jack's head, pounding with a
hammer. His mouth was stuffed with cotton and his stomach—
oh
God
—his stomach lurched into his throat. He opened his eyes
and, when they finally uncrossed, focused on the carpet. He sat up
slowly, holding his head together with both hands.

"Good morning, sunshine." Austin shoved a
bottle of water and two aspirin in his face.

Jack grunted. If his arm weren't so heavy, he
would've smacked his pesky roommate upside the head.

"Did you think about what I said last night?"
The persistent, cheery voice made his stomach churn up into his
throat.

Think? Who can think with all this
hammering going on?
"I can't even remember last night."
Although he did remember hearing the words
idiot
and
stupid
a few times.

"I'm not surprised. That was some good
scotch."

Good going down, but not good coming
up.
"Don't ever let me do that again."

"That was the idea."

"You did this to me on purpose?"

"Uh-huh."

"If I could see straight, I'd knock that
stupid grin right off your face."

"I know."

"Do you want something to eat, Jack?" Jane
poked her head out the kitchen doorway, a plateful of scrambled
eggs in her hand.

Jack gagged as she and Austin helped him move
to the couch. "No. Thanks." The thought of food made his stomach
roil. Suddenly, he remembered why he'd woken up on the floor with a
pounding head. "Have you heard from Sara? She ran off last night
and I don't know where...."

"I tried calling her, but she didn't
answer."

"That's not good." He groaned. Sara's phone
had cracked when he'd dropped it. She wouldn't be able to call if
she needed him. Would she call him anyway? Or would she call that
other guy?

"I'm sure she's fine," Jane said, but her
small frown gave him doubts.

"I've got to find her." He tried to stand up,
but his legs wouldn't cooperate. He wobbled and fell back down on
the couch.

His roommate helped him sit upright. "You're
not going anywhere."

"I need to know she's all right." Anything
could've happened to her, and it would be his fault. He'd never
forgive himself if he couldn't save her.

Jane stood up and pulled her boyfriend to one
side, leaving Jack on the couch holding his head. "Go look for
her."

"Me?" Austin's eyes widened. "Sara doesn't
want to see
me
." He glanced over at Jack and lowered his
voice. "She's scary when she's angry."

"Please? She needs someone to talk to. Maybe
you're the person who can help her."

He sighed and pressed his lips together.
"I'll see what I can do." He turned to Jack. "I'm going to look for
Sara. I'll call you when I find her."

"Thanks, man, I owe you." He lay back on the
couch, closing his eyes against the glaring sunlight that flooded
over him when Austin opened the front door, and holding his
throbbing head when the door slammed shut.

He'd always gotten endless enjoyment from
mocking his friend the morning after one of his many wild nights,
but he'd had no idea Austin felt like his head would implode and
his body had aged a hundred years overnight. As soon as he came
back, Jack swore he would apologize for every wisecrack he'd ever
made at his expense... if the pounding pain would just stop. Austin
always recovered, so Jack knew the pain in his head would go away
eventually. Unfortunately, the pain in his heart might take up
permanent residence.

God, it hasn't hurt this much
since....
He thought nothing could ever hurt worse than the
night Prentiss had found them, but losing Sara made his heart ache
even more. His stomach churned at the thought of—
Nope. That's
the scotch.

Through his hung-over haze he felt a gentle
hand touch his shoulder, long fingers stroking his hair. She cared
about him, wanted to help. "Sara?" He opened his bleary eyes and
saw Jane carefully brushing his hair off his face.

"It's me." She smiled. "Is there anything I
can do for you?"

"There's nothing anyone can do."

"I'm sorry."

I said that out loud?
He laid his hand
over his burning eyes, mildly surprised he had the strength to do
that. Even the smallest move took a huge effort. He wanted to go to
bed, but just thinking about getting up and walking all the way to
his bedroom wore him out.

"Get some sleep." Jane stood and disappeared
into the fog.

Sleep. Yeah, that sounds good.
Maybe
when he woke up, this nightmare would be over. Maybe he wouldn't
wake up at all.

Holy shit. When did I become so
morose?
No wonder Austin had left; Jack got on his
own
nerves. He'd survived worse things than this. Not even Prentiss had
made him want to die. The scotch must be to blame. He renewed his
vow to never drink again, then sat up. Rising from the couch took a
lot of effort, but he did it.

Now if I can just make it to my
bedroom.
He stood, wobbled and regained his balance, walking
with careful steps to his bed—soft, comforting, welcoming and...
lonely. But not for long. Somehow he would get Sara back and
then....

He barely remembered Jane closing his bedroom
door before he fell asleep.

***

Sara yanked open her front door before the
timid knocking stopped. "Jack?"

Austin grinned. "Sorry, sweetheart, it's just
me."

A few months ago, she would've slammed the
door on that annoying grin, but right now she was glad to see it.
"I'll take what I can get." She stepped back to let him in, and he
hesitated a moment before smiling and stepping through the doorway.
"I wanted to call you."

"Uh-oh." His eyes got big, maybe even a
little scared. "Why?"

"I need to talk to you. Do you want something
to drink?"

"No thanks, I'm good." He followed her to the
kitchen. "How are you?"

She gulped down an entire bottle of water.
"Fine," she said, gasping for air. "Forget about me. Why are you
here?"

Austin leaned back against the counter and
kept talking. "I was sent to find you."

"Who sent you?"

"Who do you think?"

Of course, Jack would be worried about her.
"How is he?"

"Hung-over."

"Jack got drunk? How could you let him do
that?"

"I helped him."

"Austin! What were you thinking?"

He laughed. "I learned that trick from my
mother. When we were kids, she caught us smoking her cigarettes.
She didn't get mad. She sat there and made us smoke the whole
carton until we were so sick we swore we'd never do it again. I
thought I'd see if it worked on Jack."

Sara smiled. "I like your mom. Did you drink
with him?"

"Not as much as he did. I stayed sober enough
to make sure he didn't do anything stupid."

"So he's hurting this morning?"

"In more ways than one."

She slapped the bottle down on the counter.
"Good."
Where did that come from?
Last night she'd wanted to
fight for him, but now she just felt like fighting. "I want him to
hurt."

"Then you got what you wanted. Why?"

"Do you know what it feels like to be lied
to?"

He rolled his eyes. "You
have
met my
father."

She narrowed her eyes. "Then you know why I
need to know everything Jack's not telling me."

He crossed his arms and planted his feet.
"He's keeping his past secret for good reason."

"What reason?" She threw her hands up and
turned away from him. How many reasons could he have? She spun and
pointed her index finger at Austin. "And don't tell me he's
protecting me!"

"He's protecting himself."

Her hand dropped and she stumbled back
against the stove.
Oh God. Was David right?
"What do you
mean?"

He leaned back against the counter, bracing
himself on his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as if he didn't want
her to see the pictures flashing across his brain. "What happened
to Jack... so horrible." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "I
don't know how he survived it. I helped him as much as I could. We
haven't talked about it since. We put it behind us, but when his
mom called, it all came back." Austin shuddered.

"It's hard for you to deal with too." She
reached for him, trying to offer some sort of comfort, but he
withdrew.

"I'm okay."

She threw her hands up. "Damn it! Why are you
two so stubborn? There's a wall around you and him and... both of
you! It's like this dysfunctional, co-dependent...
thing
I
can't break through."

He shrugged. "It's what we need to do to make
it through the day. We have no offensive line to protect us—no
pads, no facemasks—only ourselves to deal with whatever shit life
throws our way."