Vindicated (2 page)

The ding of her cell phone signaled an incoming text message and jerked her attention away from Mr. Tall-and-Tasty. She fumbled in her backpack to silence the ringer and saw the text from her little sister, Emma. With a flick of her thumb, she opened the message to find a picture of an adorable young girl with round blue eyes and reddish pigtails holding a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Emma:
Its PBJ time. Miss u. Hugs.

Karly:
Miss u more.

A huge grin spread over Karly’s face. Incredible warmth filled all the empty spaces inside her. Eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches had been Emma’s favorite meal as a toddler. Her smile saddened. She missed her. With a sigh, she shoved her phone into the backpack and turned her attention to the lecture for the next hour.

Chapter 2

In her haste to leave after class, Karly ignored Randy lounging against the wall in the corridor. Although his unexpected appearance piqued her curiosity, it also dredged up an attraction better left forgotten. At his shout, she glanced up in time to see the glint of auburn and coppery-black strands in his messy curls. Only Randy could pull off a leather jacket, heavy boots, and faded jeans in a university known for conservative neckties and pinstriped shirts. A silver wallet chain dangled from pocket to belt in the light streaming through the windows. He was the picture of outlaw, bad-boy deliciousness.

Amber Patrick, bane of Karly’s existence, stood in front of him, twirling her hair and smiling, perfect as always. Tall, leggy, and empty-headed, Amber made beauty look easy. Her expensive designer clothes and matching accessories probably cost more than Karly’s car. If that was the kind of girl he liked, she didn’t have a chance. She shook her head. Why did she even care? Whatever she’d shared with him on their one night together ceased to exist when he vaporized the next morning.

The weight of his gaze hastened her steps, unnerving her. Determined to breeze past, she tucked her chin into the collar of her coat. Randy’s long legs ate up the distance between them. He pulled a baseball cap from his back pocket and tugged it low over his forehead. Very sexy.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I'm late for work,” she said with an apologetic glance and more than a little curiosity at his sudden interest in her.

"No problem. I'll walk you out. I'm leaving, too." To her dismay, he shortened his stride to match hers. "Here, give me those." Before she could protest, he slid the backpack off her shoulder and onto his. “What the hell is in this? Rocks?”

“Books.”

“Ever heard of an e-reader?"

“I like print books,” she said stubbornly. “I like the smell of the paper and the feel of the pages.”

“Me too,” he said with a grin. “But I don’t carry all of mine with me.” One dark eyebrow quirked, daring her not to smile. She lost the bet.

A few steps later, their smiles faded and uncomfortable silence stretched between them. He opened the exit door and moved aside to let her pass. An icy winter wind blasted through the opening, whirling bits of leaves and grass over the threshold. She tugged her coat tighter around her waist. The wind blew Randy’s hair into his fantastic gray eyes.

What exactly did a girl say to a one-night stand six months after the fact?
Gee, the sex was incredible…so glad we hooked up the one time…you were the best orgasm I ever had.

She settled on something safer and less incriminating. “What are you doing in my class anyway? I didn’t see you in there before.”

“Last-minute schedule change.” He shrugged and studied her, eyes narrowed, measuring her up. “You know, I did want to call you, but…” The large hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“It’s no big deal. Really. We both agreed it was a one-time thing.” Despite her nonchalant words, a tiny part of her wished it could be otherwise. Maybe he really had left a note for her, and somehow she’d managed to overlook it in the depths of clutter at her apartment. Or, maybe he was like every other man in her life, a temporary blip on her sexual radar.

“Yeah, I know what we said, but…” His inability to finish a sentence piqued her curiosity.
But? But what?
He cleared his throat and started over. “So how’s your sister? Emma, right?”

“You know Emma?” At the mention of nine-year-old Emma, tears stung Karly’s eyes.

“Yeah, well, Mitch might’ve mentioned her in passing.” He flushed and cleared his throat. She cringed at the mention of her brother’s name. Mitch, self-absorbed asshole that he was, would never mention Emma. He seemed to have forgotten her existence.

“She’s fine.” In an effort to avoid more questions, she quickened her pace. Thank goodness, her car loomed into sight. “This is me.” He slid the backpack off his shoulder and held it while she rummaged the depths for her car keys.

"This is your car? Sweet ride." He cast an appreciative glance over the blue flaming bird on the hood of the Trans Am. "My uncle used to have one of these. Not too many around anymore."

"Yeah? Well, it gets me where I’m going." She jingled the keys in her hand. "See you around."

“Yeah, see you,” he said, with a casual nod. He turned and sauntered to his truck a few spaces away.

She slid behind the steering wheel of her car and tried not to follow him with her eyes. The cold from the blue vinyl seat seeped through her coat. She put the key in the ignition. After several attempts, the engine sputtered and roared into life. Relief mingled with disappointment as she pulled out of the parking space and headed to work. Over the past months, she’d managed to minimize her attraction to Randy and deny their chemistry. After sitting in close proximity to his taut body, reality struck with vicious intent. Their encounter in the lecture hall should have brought closure to his abrupt departure following their night of passion, but it didn’t. Instead, it left her unsettled, and edgy, and wanting more.

The blistering wind whistled over the cab of Randy’s truck, bending the branches of the aged oaks surrounding campus. He watched Karly’s departure then sat in his truck, bewildered by the bevy of conflicting emotions churning through him. She’d been in the back of his mind since their encounter, a constant reminder of opportunity found and lost in the space of one night. Just when he’d thought he’d forgotten her, someone would drop her name in passing, his heart would stutter, and he’d be right back where he started. The soft skin of her breasts and the silky slide of her hair through his fingers haunted him. He’d damn near begged their mutual friend Ally for Karly’s number, feigning nonchalance when the mere thought of talking to her again made his palms sweat.

A dozen times, he’d started to call her but hung up before it completed. Uncertain of what to say without coming across like a creepy fool, he entered her digits into the contact list on his cell and tried to forget about them. Scratch that. He tried to forget about
her
because he knew it could never work between them. It was nothing more than a crush, a passing obsession brought about a night of hot sex and the attentions of an attractive, intelligent female. Hoping to find distraction from her, he’d dated a few girls here and there, most of them unmemorable, all of them pale and boring compared to Karly’s vibrancy. Complications with his ex-girlfriend and their son soon took precedence over his crush and made it easy to slide into a state of denial about how Karly made him feel.

Feel.
Such an ugly word. He scrubbed a hand over his face before dropping the truck into gear. In the wake of a failed relationship, he didn’t want to feel anything toward any female ever again. Pain like that could lead a man to acts of desperation, a fact he knew all too well from watching his buddy, Jack, flounder during a breakup with Ally. Desperate to clear his head, he tuned the radio to a rock station, lit up a cigarette, and forced his thoughts away from the past before they could do any more damage to his already wounded heart.

Chapter 3

Randy rang the doorbell at 2311 Ricardo Lane. He counted the seconds underneath his breath and turned to survey the tree-lined street with its cookie-cutter houses. When no one came to the door by the count of twenty, he rapped his knuckles on the heavy oak with enough force to make the side glass vibrate. This time the door opened. The delicious scent of sugar cookies wafted into the cold. Pilar stood there, tall and slender, caramel skin glowing in the foyer light, much the same as she’d been in their youth but with a few fine lines of maturity around her eyes. An air of exhaustion bowed her shoulders.

“You’re late,” she said.

Here we go
.

“I tried to call. I had class this morning, and there was a wreck on the interstate. Didn’t you get my voicemail?” Mutual animosity thickened the air between them.

“Phone’s on the charger. Battery’s dead,” she said. The unconcerned shrug of her shoulders made it clear she never checked.

“I left a message on your home phone, too. I suppose your land line is out?” The disdain in her eyes caused him to swallow back the rest of his words.
Choose your battles, Mackenzie
. “Is Caleb ready?”

Pilar folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the door frame. “He’s not here. I sent him to the Children’s Museum with the neighbors.”

He drew in a deep breath, shut his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. Frustration swelled inside him until his ribs creaked from the strain. Finally, he opened his eyes and narrowed his gaze on his ex-girlfriend. “Why would you do that? I’m not even fifteen minutes late.” Two deep breaths cleared some of the tension from his forehead. “I’m trying here, Pilar. Give me a break.”

They stared at each other, a hundred conversations playing out in the silence between them.

You’re a shitty boyfriend,
her eyes said.
Serves you right.

You cheated on me,
he glared back.

“Is there a problem?” Mitch crowded the door behind Pilar, looking casual in a gray T-shirt with the words Maddox County Sheriff’s Department written across the chest. The scowl on his face echoed Karly’s expression with such startling similarity that Randy took an abrupt step backward. How had he forgotten they were brother and sister? Strawberry blond hair and pale eyes, more blue than gray, glared at Randy with unveiled antipathy. To press the issue, Mitch rested a hand on Pilar’s back, claiming her and setting Randy’s blood on fire. “Is he drunk?”

“Jesus! I am not drunk. When have I ever showed up drunk?”
What a dick.
Anger simmered within him. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. Losing his temper would only keep him further from his goal of seeing Caleb. “So what time will he be back?”

“I don’t know. Late. You might as well leave.” Pilar shifted, leaning back into Mitch for support, a subtle movement meant to show their unity against him.

“Pilar, be reasonable.” Randy willed his voice to be soft and cajoling. “We have a visitation agreement.”

“When you get a decent job and a decent place to live, we can talk about it,” Mitch interjected. “You live above a bar, for Christ’s sake. What kind of environment is that for raising a kid? I don’t want my boy exposed to your kind of lifestyle.”

My boy?
Randy’s temper snapped. “First, he’s not your boy. He’s my boy. Mine and Pilar’s. As far as I remember, you were nowhere around when he was conceived. And second? It’s not your place to judge my lifestyle.”

“It
is my place when the boy lives under my roof.” Mitch nudged Pilar to the side and filled the doorway, leaning out onto the porch. He wasn’t tall or muscular, but he was in good shape and wore a cocky air of intimidation like a shield. “I’m the one who puts him to bed at night. I’m the one he runs to when he’s hurt. I’m the one he calls daddy. Not you. He doesn’t even know you.”

All of the air whooshed from Randy’s lungs as if he’d been gut-punched.
Daddy.
Pilar sucked in a horrified breath and wrapped slender fingers around Mitch’s bicep, pulling him into the house, knowing he’d gone too far. Randy’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as he debated the penalties for punching a dickhead cop.
Totally fucking worth it.

“Mitch. Please?” Pilar shook her head in mute warning, recognizing the fire in Randy’s eyes.

Mitch turned to go back into the house but not before pointing a finger in Randy’s face. “I don’t like you. And I especially don’t like your friends.”

“That’s hysterical coming from you. You were my friend until you fucked my girlfriend,” Randy said.

“Only because you weren’t man enough to keep her satisfied,” Mitch spat back.

“I’m standing right here, guys,” Pilar said with an exasperated shake of her head. “Enough already. Give us a minute, will you, Mitch?” She stepped between the two men, pushed Mitch into the foyer, and shut the door behind her to face Randy alone.

“This is not fair,” Randy said. “Not fair, and you know it. I’m a good father. And my friends are decent people. Hell, they were good enough for you over the last three years.”

“Felony’s no place for a kid. The shit that goes on there…” Pilar’s pretty mouth twisted into an ugly frown.