Vengeance (Oak Grove Suspense Book 1) (3 page)

BOOK: Vengeance (Oak Grove Suspense Book 1)
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Dylan rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure all schools are the same. I do want to try out for football though.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I happen to be one of the coaches.” He winks.

I look at him. “Really? I thought you were a police detective.”

He nods and wipes his mouth. “I am, but the school lost their coach over the summer and asked me if I’d help out.”

“Is Principal Dillard still there?” I ask.

“Nope, he retired last year, but his daughter took over. You remember Amber, right?” I grimace. We were almost enemies because of Ryan. Well, because Ryan dated me. “She’s not so bad anymore. She’s married with a couple of kids.”

“That’s good.”

Ryan laughs at me. “You sound barely convinced. It won’t be as bad as you think.”

I give him a look to show my disbelief. “I’m sure there’s gossip. The town isn’t that big.”

Ryan nods as he grabs his third piece of pizza. “Of course. A town this small wouldn’t be what it is without gossip. I’m sure if I’d come back sooner, I’d have known right away that you’d had my kid,” he says this almost playfully, but I can tell there’s some hurt too. 

“I’m …” Ryan holds up a hand to stop me.

“I’m not over it, but I understand, mostly. It’s in the past and I’m ready to move on. All I’m saying is this town thrives off of the latest juicy news.” I know he’s right so I don’t argue.

“Where have you been if you weren’t around here?” Dylan asks. He knows his dad was in the military, but neither of us know much else.

“I was in the Marines for four years. Then I worked in DC with the FBI. I came home a year ago to help my mom, who had cancer, but she’s doing a lot better now. She’s in remission. I hadn’t been back here in sixteen years before then.”

“What do you do now?” Dylan asks.

“I’m a detective with the police department. There’s not a lot happening in this tiny town, so I often work with a few of the surrounding cities or sometimes fill in as a Deputy Sheriff.”              

“You like it?”

I watch as father and son talk and my heart aches for them both, for time lost. Even though I didn’t intentionally choose to separate them, I had done just that. My choice caused this, but Ryan’s choice to not speak to me also played a part. I can understand his guilt and anger, but I can also understand moving forward. After talking for a few hours, Dylan glances at me.

“Do you mind if I crash?”

I know he’s exhausted; neither of us has been sleeping well. I nod my head, standing. “Of course not. I’ll help you get settled.”

Ryan stands as well. “I’ll work on the mess.”

I nod and mouth, "thank you." I lead Dylan to his room, which is up the stairs and the first bedroom on the left. Gale has already fixed it up for him, though I’m sure he still needs to personalize it. His bed and furniture were delivered a few days ago so he can shower and jump right in.

“What’d you think?”

“I like him,” Dylan says immediately.

I smile. I’d meant his room, but I’m glad he and Ryan hit it off so well. “That’s good.”

“You think he likes me?” He seems so much like my little boy, I want to hug him tightly, but I know he won’t like an emotional mom moment.

“Of course he does. You’re awesome, what’s not to like?” I tease.

He smiles. “I hope he sticks around.”

“He will. Everything will be okay, baby.” I smooth my hand through his hair like I’ve done many times throughout his life.

“I hope so. I’m really tired. I think I’ll just crash, okay?”

“Whatever you want. Tomorrow, we’ll have to help unload the moving truck, but after that we’ll just take it easy and start unpacking the next day.”

“Sounds good. Night, Mom. I love you,” Dylan says, hugging me.

I squeeze him tightly, making him chuckle, then stand on my tiptoes to kiss my over six-foot-tall son on the cheek. I pause for a moment as I step out of the room, not looking forward to going back downstairs and having what I’m sure will be an awkward conversation with Ryan. When I reach the kitchen, I stop and stare at the man before me. He is so much different from the boy who left me. He’s grown a few inches taller, making him closer to six-three and he’s bulked out. Not like a body builder, but very fit and lightly tanned, with visible muscles. His slightly wavy, almost black hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it. It’s now hanging down to his shoulders. I can see bits of tattoos peeking out of his tight, black t-shirt, and his blue jeans are faded and worn but fit him so perfectly. He’s absolutely as breathtaking now as he was when I was fifteen. At that time in my life, I thought the world revolved around him.

“See something you like?” he asks, startling me out of my thoughts.

I clear my throat. “Yep,” I answer honestly.

“What’s that?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“The walls. I like the paint color Gale chose.”

He guffaws. “Yeah, right. You’re still a horrible liar. I saw you checking me out.” He flexes his muscles, to which I roll my eyes.

“So why ask then?”

Chuckling, he walks over, stopping directly in front of me, and giving me a sexy smile. His hand lifts and moves a piece of my hair behind my ear, causing my breathing to hitch.

“I still affect you,” he whispers leaning into me. “You still very much affect me.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

My eyes close as I try to reign in my emotions. It’s ridiculous for him to affect me all these years later, especially with the hurt we’ve both caused each other. He must sense my distress, because he gathers me into his arms and holds me tightly.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere this time. I swear.”

I clutch his shirt in my hands as the dam breaks. He lifts me off the ground, carrying me into the living room and settling us both on the sofa.

“I needed you and you wouldn’t listen,” I sob, letting every bit of pain I’d felt all those years ago surface. “I had to raise him on my own.”

“I know. You’ll never understand the depth of guilt and regret I feel. I hate myself for turning you away. For how I spoke to you the day you called.”

I pull away and sit beside him on the sofa, instead of on his lap. I brush my hair out of my face and twist it into a messy bun before letting my hands fall to my lap to pick at the invisible lint on my pants.

“I’d never hated anyone until that day. You were so cruel. I swore I’d never forgive you, but when I held Dylan in my arms, that all went away. I was so thankful you’d given me him, even if I was too young to really care for him properly. I swore that day that I’d never let him down. I’d finish school and go to college. I’d be a doctor just like my dad. If it wasn’t for the Thorns taking me in when they had, none of that would have happened.”

He squeezes my hand. “I’m grateful for them and what they did for you both. I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

“Don’t promise me that. You don’t know me and I don’t know you. We haven’t seen each other since we were basically kids.”

“I can tell you’re still the same loving and sweet girl you were then. Sure, you’ve grown up and matured, but under that armor of adulthood, you’re still the scared little girl who would climb into my bedroom window and let me hold her all night.”

He leans forward and presses his lips to mine. I resist for about half a second before I give into the passion of my first love. My hands move to his hair and pull him closer. He winds his arms around my back and shoulders, holding me tightly. I haven't had a kiss this passionate, this exciting, or this full of meaning since the day he broke up with me. Only this time, it isn't a goodbye.

A bang causes us to break apart and look to our left. Dylan stands there with his mouth gaped open and his eyes wide. He stutters a few times, but gets out a rushed, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

I try in vain to right myself. “What’s wrong?” I ask him.

“Nothing. I was thirsty and couldn’t sleep.”

I jump up. “I’ll get you a bottle of water.”

I hurry into the kitchen, leaving father and son alone. Leaning heavily on the counter in front of the sink, I mentally scold myself. What was I thinking letting Ryan get to me like that? I swore to myself long ago to never get involved with him again. Things would never be off the table for us, ever. I see that now. I grab a water bottle and fill it with filtered water and ice. I head back into the den, but stop when I hear voices, not wanting to intrude. Okay, okay, I was eavesdropping.

“Sorry you had to see that,” Ryan says.

Dylan snorts. “What, you molesting my mom?”

“I was not molesting her. I was kissing her. There’s a huge difference,” Ryan tells him with a bit of anger in his voice.

“Yeah, like it’s not rape for a nineteen year old to have sex with a fifteen year old.”

I knew he couldn’t be as accepting as he had seemed to be. I step out and stare at the two of them for a moment before shifting my look solely to Dylan.

“Okay, that’s enough. He did not rape me. He was eighteen when you were conceived.”

Dylan sputters and shrugs his shoulders. I know it’s not much of a concession. He takes the water bottle from me and then storms up the stairs to his room, slamming his door. I turn to Ryan.

“I have never said anything like that to him. Ever.”

“Don’t worry about it. If he was with an eighteen or nineteen year old, I could see myself having issues with it. We probably shouldn’t have been dating, but we were and he’s the result. I’ll deal with whatever anger he needs to get out.”

I sit down on the couch right in front of him as he sits on the coffee table. “You never raped me.”

“I know,” he tells me, looking me in the eyes. I see his regret.

“You’re not quite three years older than me. It might have been different if you were ten years older, but almost three is nothing, really.”

We are quiet for a long while before I look up to him and see his eyes water as he stares at me. I can see so much on his face right now that I have to fight the urge to pull him towards me.

“I loved you so much. I never wanted to leave you. My dad convinced me that it was the best thing for you. I had no idea you were pregnant. Then when you called me, he told me you were just trying to get me back and I had to stay strong because you were so young. He said that since the state was involved with you, they’d arrest me for statutory rape or something. Even that Simon guy said something similar. I’m so sorry. I should have…”

My eyes tear up as I give in and pull him into my arms, holding him tightly. I’d always thought it was strange the way he was acting, but I never thought it was because of his parents, or Simon for that matter. I thought Simon understood.

“Your dad knew I was pregnant when I called you,” I confess.

He pulls back. “What?”

I clear my throat. “I called you at home first, but he wouldn’t let me talk, so I went to your house. Your dad answered the door. I told him I needed to talk to you, or at least write you a letter, that it was important. I didn’t expect you to take me back, I just had to tell you something. He said it wasn’t a good idea and refused to give me your address. I begged him, and finally confessed that I needed to tell you I was pregnant. I told him that I didn’t expect anything out of you or them, but I thought you should know.” Ryan sat for a long time just staring at me. I grew uncomfortable under his gaze. “I’m sorry.” I blurt out.

“Why didn't you tell me this before?” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand why he’d do that. Unless, he thought I’d get into trouble. What exactly did he say to you?”

I decide to only answer his first question, because I honestly don’t want to relive the latter questions. “Because you wouldn’t listen to me. The first time you called was horrible and then after you calmed down, you only wanted to talk to Dylan.”

He nods agreeing. “And my dad, what did he say, Shay?”

I look down for a moment and steady myself. “Your dad told me not to tell anyone because you could go to jail.” He lifts my chin so that I’m looking at him. “Then he told me to keep my legs closed from now on. I’m paraphrasing, because there was some really harsh language in there that doesn’t need to be repeated.”

Ryan makes a really disgusted noise before standing. “I need to go,” he growls as he heads to the door.

I grab his arm. “Hey, it was almost sixteen years ago. Just let it go, please.” When he still doesn’t move, I say, “For Dylan.”

He slowly turns towards me, taking my hand from his arm and holding it in his. “Shayla, my dad died two years ago.”

I gasp. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn’t have told you.”

He waves me off. “It’s fine. I just need to process all this. I have no doubt he said that to you. He’s said several things to me over the years that I didn’t understand, but now it all makes sense. I need some time to think. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I nod. “Okay. Drive carefully.”

“I don’t need to drive. I live next door.” He chuckles. I look at him confused. “I bought the old Brammer house a year ago. That’s when I found out about Dylan. Sarah Davidson was the real estate agent. She mentioned you and you being pregnant. She had no idea the baby was mine, but I marched right over to the Thorns and asked them. They didn’t want to talk to me, but after I saw his picture, there was no denying it.”

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