Secret Storm (19 page)

She turned on her heel and stomped off. They
must have gotten on Jack's nerves too. Maybe that's why he'd taken
off.

Why didn't she just run away too? A couple of
days ago, she would've split without a second thought, but she'd
promised Jack she'd be there for him, and had to stay where he
would find her.

But is he worth it? Do I love him?

She stopped in her tracks and looked back at
the tree where she'd found the cooing lovebirds, but they'd left.
Just beyond the tree sat the picnic table where she and Jack had
held each other's hands and decided they were more than friends. A
few feet past the table stood the shady tree where he'd first
kissed her. They'd flirted with the desire to kiss for years, and
when Jack finally took the plunge, he'd done it without hesitation
or reservation. One kiss filled with passion and longing and so
much promise....

She sighed and wondered if they could get
that back. She doubted things would ever be the same between them,
but maybe if—
really big if
—they could resolve their trust
issues, they might have something better.

Is it worth the effort?

"Maybe."

Do I love him?

"I think I do." Saying it out loud
strengthened her resolve—even if no one heard it.

She wouldn't give up. She would stay and
wait. Besides, she had no idea where he'd gone, so she couldn't go
after him anyway. A new idea for her—running
to
something
instead of running away. If he kept her waiting too long, she would
track him down.

She chuckled.
Good luck to him if that
happens.

***

During last week's phone interview, Jack had
talked with the HR person and the school principal. This time he
met with the football team's head coach. He liked Coach Sherman
right away, and could tell by his easy smile and relaxed posture
that the coach liked him too. Sherman had been a quarterback in
high school and college, so Jack felt comfortable when the coach
grilled him about his skills on offense.

"I watched one of your games at Bayfield last
fall," Coach said. "You're a strong runner and a natural leader.
What makes you think you'll be a good coach?"

He didn't have to think about the answer. "I
like to strategize, and I do it well. I can read a defense and I
can read an offense. I know how to read people and understand their
needs. My friends, other players, and even some of my coaches come
to me for advice."

Sherman nodded. "A good coach needs to know
how to take advice as well as give it. You can't be afraid to ask
for help. That's why we have an entire coaching staff. Sometimes
other people can see things you can't, especially when you're too
close to the problem."

Jack's tie suddenly shrunk two sizes. "I
agree."

"Can you ask for help when you need it,
Jack?"

He pulled at his tie, trying to loosen its
stranglehold. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will." Coach Sherman smiled and
shook his hand. "It's a pleasure meeting you. I'm sure you'll hear
from us soon."

"Thank you."

He scurried out of the coach's stuffy,
shrinking office, untying that damn tie and ripping open three
buttons on his shirt. He tore off his suit jacket and tossed it in
the Jeep, which started without a struggle.

He drove back to Bayfield with the coach's
words echoing in his head; even turning the radio up loud couldn't
drown out that last question.

Can you ask for help when you need it,
Jack?

He'd lied, of course—he couldn't ask for
help. Even when everyone else knew he desperately needed it. Sara
knew. Austin knew. Even Jane and his entire family knew he couldn't
deal with his past alone.

He'd told Sara that he'd put it behind him,
but the threat of that funeral had ripped open the old wound. If he
didn't stop the bleeding, he'd have no choice but to wait for
someone else to save him. Sara and Austin had spent the last few
days telling him that, but one simple question from a complete
stranger finally made it clear: the past still haunted him, and he
needed help—Sara's help.

Is it too late? Have I lost her already?

Without thinking, he rubbed the scar on his
stomach. It hurt as much now as it did then, but the pain cut
through his heart this time—and Sara's eyes.

"God, Sara, what have I done to you?" All
she'd ever wanted from him was the truth, but he couldn't let go of
his irrational need to protect himself. He'd pushed her away over
and over, while she refused to give up on him. No one but his
family—and Austin was family—put up with him like Sara did. She
ran, but she kept coming back. He didn't know if she could help
him, but he knew he couldn't do it alone anymore. He had to tell
her everything.
Now.
He looked at his watch and stepped on
the gas. Forget baseball practice. Finding Sara was more
important.

He picked up his cell phone and called her,
but her phone kept ringing. "Sara," he said into her voicemail.
"I'm coming home. I need you.... You were right... about
everything. Please be there—"

The voicemail cut him off. Jack tossed his
phone onto the passenger seat and pushed the gas pedal harder. All
of a sudden he remembered his grandpa's words.

Show her you mean it.

"I am such an idiot."

Getting a job across the country or across
the street from her wouldn't prove anything.

She'd offered him the solution so many times,
and he'd thrown it back in her face. He knew she wouldn't offer
again. He had to ask for her help, without fear. Asking for help
would make him a better coach and a better man.

Jack smiled, and then noticed the red and
blue lights flashing behind him.

Sara looked at her watch—only three minutes
later than the last time she'd checked. She paced circles around
the couch, feeling Jane's eyes on her the whole time. "He called
over four hours ago. Where the hell is he? Why is he taking so long
to get back?"

Her roommate shrugged. "I can't tell.
Sorry."

"I know. Just go spend the night with Austin.
I don't know what's going to happen with Jack and me when he gets
home, but we'll need time alone... lots of time."

"I understand." Jane zipped up her backpack
and slung it over her shoulder. "There's some leftover cake in the
fridge. Oh, and you're out of toffee bars."

She nodded, waving her off. "I know.
Thanks."

Almost at the front door, Jane ran back and
gave Sara a big hug. "Breathe."

She exhaled in her best friend's arms,
allowing herself this bit of comfort.

"It'll be all right." Jane stepped back and
looked at her with worried but hopeful eyes. "He'll be here... as
soon as he can."

"But then what?"

Jane gave her another quick hug and walked
out.

Thunder rumbled outside, and she glanced at
her wrist again. Two minutes this time. She pulled off her watch
and threw it across the room, wincing as she heard something break.
Oh well. She dropped down on the couch, but as soon as her butt hit
the cushion, a knock sounded.

She bounced back up, sprinted to the door and
yanked it open. "Jack?"

His deep blue eyes were tortured and torn,
and he held his suit jacket limp at his side, his tie draped
loosely around his neck. Water dripped down his hair to his sagging
shoulders, his crisp white shirt speckled with raindrops. The storm
was just about to break.

"Sara..." His voice cracked. "I need your
help."

She threw her arms around him and kissed him,
pulling him close, promising herself she'd never let go. Did she
love this man? The answer looked more and more like yes, but first
she had to face whatever he needed from her.

***

Her heated kiss surprised him, but Jack
stepped into it, swearing he'd never push her away again. The wall
he'd built around his heart all those years ago started to crumble
as he pulled Sara close, kissing her like he had the first
time—with passion and lust and pure need.

She pulled away, but only enough to talk.
"Tell me everything—no—tell me what you need." Her lips brushed
his. "I'll help any way I can."

"I know."
Why did it take me so long to
figure this out?

She took his hand and led him to the couch.
They sat close together.

He couldn't look at her yet, so he stared at
their entwined fingers, rubbing her soft fingertips.
So
delicate.
When he squeezed her hand, she squeezed back with a
strength he hadn't expected. He looked into her beautiful eyes and
found unexpected strength there too. He
could
tell her
everything. Lightning flashed close by, and thunder cracked in the
same instant, but they didn't flinch.

"I need to tell you what happened the night
he found us." He clenched her hand again. "Obviously you know he
did."

She nodded.

"It won't be easy to hear." He closed his
eyes. In order to tell her about it, he'd have to relive it all
again. "It won't be easy to talk about."

"Take as much time as you need."

He nodded, and as the rain poured down, a
flood of memories filled his head. He started with the good ones.
"Austin and I were hanging out at my house, watching a movie with
our girlfriends. Taylor, my girl, so pretty—blonde curls, big blue
eyes, smart and sassy. We were only sixteen but I wanted to marry
her someday. I've always fallen hard and fast. Austin's girlfriend
at the time was Taylor's best friend. I don't remember her name. He
probably doesn't either."

The good times tempted him to keep talking,
but he couldn't let himself get sidetracked. "My mom was in the
kitchen doing dishes when I heard someone pound on the door. Then
she screamed."

He shuddered and held Sara's hand tight. "I'd
heard that scream so many times that I knew exactly what was
happening. I ran into the kitchen. Austin and the girls must have
followed me. Prentiss was kicking the door in. I tried to block it
with a chair, but he got through, laughing at me and calling me a
wimpy little boy. My mom stood at the sink, so shocked she couldn't
move. I grabbed her and Austin and tried to get them out, but no
one listened to me. They all stood staring at him. I turned around
and...."

He stopped and raised a shaking hand to his
eyes. The wind grabbed something and slammed it against the
building, pounding as if it wanted to get in—get to him.

"Prentiss was pointing a gun at my
mother."

He wrapped his hands around both of hers,
seeking comfort and strength. "I didn't have time to think. I just
reacted. I punched him and he dropped the gun. Austin grabbed it
and threw it... somewhere. I told him to get out and take Taylor
with him, but he wouldn't leave me. The girls must have stayed with
Austin. I don't remember exactly how it all happened. I guess I
turned my back on Prentiss while I tried to get Austin out. He hit
me across the shoulders with something. I turned around but before
I could hit him, he grabbed my mom and pulled a knife from the dish
rack and held it to her throat."

"My God," Sara gasped. Lightning flickered in
her eyes but he saw no signs of fear.

"It gets worse."

She nodded. "I'm okay."

"I didn't have a weapon, just my bare hands,
but I told him to let go of my mom and face
me
like a man.
That pissed him off. He pushed Mom to the floor and swung at me
with the knife, but missed. I remember hearing Taylor scream... and
then she grabbed my shoulder. I stood in front of her, putting my
arm across her body to protect her. Prentiss backed us into a
corner. He looked over my shoulder at her and then he looked at
me—right in my eye—with this evil smile. And then he plunged the
knife into Taylor's stomach, twisted it and ripped it out again.
I'd never seen so much blood."

Sara gasped and thunder crashed on top of
them.

Jack's breath caught in his throat; his heart
stopped and his head sank. "I thought if I stood in front of her, I
could protect her."

"It wasn't your fault, Jack." She lifted his
chin. "He did it to hurt you."

"I know. I understand that now." He slid his
hand across her cheek and stroked her face, her hair. "If it hadn't
been Taylor, he would've killed someone else I loved."

"She died?" Sara blinked back tears.

"She bled to death in my arms. I saw the
light in her eyes go out. Have you ever watched someone you love
die?" He didn't wait for an answer. "No one should ever have to see
that."

Jack closed his eyes, breathing deep and
trying to gather his strength. "I've thought about that moment
every single day since we buried her."

She wiped her eyes.

He spoke again with a stronger voice. "I
asked Austin to hold her, and then I got up and approached
Prentiss. He was holding the knife to my mom and laughing, gloating
at me. Austin tried to hold me back, but I attacked my father. I
punched him in the face, broke his nose and a couple of his teeth.
Somehow he slashed me across the gut."

He pulled up his shirt and sat up straight so
she could see his scar. "Not every scar has a good story."

"Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry." She sobbed.

"You didn't know. While I was down, he went
after my mom. I wrestled the knife away from him—I don't remember
how. I know I hit him, kicked him. His ribs snapped under my fists.
The rest is pretty much a blur. Austin said I was still beating on
Prentiss when the police got there. They couldn't tell his blood
from mine. My mom and I went to the hospital in an ambulance and my
grandpa never left my side. I recovered in time to go to Taylor's
funeral. Her mother said she'd never forgive me."

His strength faded and he swayed on the
couch, leaning against Sara to stay upright.

She brushed his damp hair from his eyes, her
fingers warm on his cold skin. "Have you forgiven yourself?"