Chapter 2
Chapter Two
I made it three days. That was all I could hold out for before I found myself driving past the Vickers’ place. They lived in a small house that was built in the nineteen forties. It used to have the prettiest front yard on the street, bursting with vibrant colors from Isla Vickers prized dahlias, but now it was overgrown with weeds. Mrs. Vickers used to invite me over for lemonade when her arthritis was acting up, and I would help her out tending her garden. Most of the time I would just drop by unannounced. But I hadn’t been there in over two years.
I’m a fucking loser.
I saw Fallon’s fancy SUV backed in, underneath the carport. Sleek black and chrome Audi. Four years ago, Maddie had let it slip, on purpose I’m sure, at Maverick’s Bar and Grill how well Fallon was doing in Chicago. Back before everything had fallen apart, Fallon had done so well with her undergraduate focus in cybersecurity she’d had a lot of job offers. Before our wedding she was still trying to find one that would allow her to telecommute. Fallon must have taken something in Chicago, eventually starting her own consulting company.
I’d researched the hell out of it. It was the real deal. She had impressive testimonials on her website from heavy hitters. Hell, there was even a magazine spread in Tech Leaders to Watch . The photos of her made my chest ache. She’d always been beautiful but now she radiated poise and confidence. She’d carved out a life for herself and didn’t look back.
That was my dirty secret. I stalked her company. Her success. Her life. She was my drug of choice, a craving that I couldn’t quit.
And now she was back.
It took a moment for me to realize that the side door was slowly opening. Fallon’s mom came out, clutching her sweater around her, then opened the front passenger door of the Audi. She turned and said something, then Fallon and Bob walked out. Bob was leaning heavily on Fallon.
Shit .
This was not good. Bob was a big guy and Fallon was small like her mother.
I didn’t think, I just acted. I was out of my truck and sprinting across the street before I knew what I was doing. All three people looked at me as I walked up to them.
Fallon noticed me first. I drank her up, not caring how I must look. But Fallon just stared back. No smile, no frown, no reaction, nothing.
“Michael!” Isla smiled. “What are you doing here? Did Fallon call you to help?”
Bob was grinning. “Fallon can’t do this by herself. It’s good you’re here. Her mother calls one of those transport companies to pick us up for my doctor appointments, but Fallon was sure she could handle this on her own. I knew she couldn’t. But now I see why she thought she had this handled. She called you.”
Fourteen years dropped away and I was a junior in high school all over again, listening to Mr. Vickers belittle his daughter, just like he used to. I looked at Fallon. She was much better at hiding it than she had back then, but underneath her icy expression, I saw the flash of pain.
“Yes, she called me. I’m sorry I was late,” I lied.
I walked closer to where Fallon was standing with Bob’s arm around her shoulders. “May I?” I whispered softly.
She inclined her head, her movements measured and restrained. I carefully eased Bob’s weight off her shoulders and shifted him to mine. He wasn’t light, but I easily transferred him to the passenger seat.
“Are you coming with us?” Isla asked. I read her hopeful expression.
“Of course he is,” Bob said, his grin smug.
Again, I glanced over at Fallon. I waited for her to say something. Her expression was carved from stone. I was doomed.
“I think Fallon’s got it from here.”
“But, it’s even harder to get Bob up to the entrance of the doctor’s office.” Mrs. Vicker’s voice wavered.
Aw, shit.
I turned to Fallon and lifted my eyebrows.
“Michael is following us in his truck,” she clipped out. I wondered whether she used this same tone of voice when she negotiated with clients.
“That’s right.” It was a good idea. Being in an enclosed space with Fallon definitely wasn’t a good idea until I had my head on straight. God knew when that was going to be.
“Drive slow so you don’t lose him,” Bob admonished his daughter. “No Chicago driving.”
Fallon nodded, then went around the front of her SUV, got into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. I knocked on the window. She rolled it down. I whispered ‘sorry’ low enough so her parents couldn’t hear.
She gave me a tight nod, then the window slid back up and she slowly pulled out of the driveway. I could see her white knuckles on the steering wheel.
When I heard Bob start to lecture Fallon on how to drive, I turned and jogged back to my truck. When I climbed into the cab, I let out a long breath. I had no idea how I was going to fix this. None. But just because I didn’t have a plan, didn’t mean I couldn’t win the battle. And dammit, I was going to win Fallon back, even if it killed me.
What in the hell had I done to deserve this? After three days, I was finally getting a grip on Mom and Dad—why did Michael have to show up? I snuck a peek at him as we sat across from one another in the doctor’s office waiting room. He was sitting with his ankle resting over his knee, leaning back in the chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. His henley shirt was dark green and it stretched across his broad shoulders. He must have gained forty pounds of muscle since I’d last seen him. I never knew I was into muscles, but I was now. Then there was the blonde scruff on his face. He used to shave on the weekdays but not on the weekends and I could still remember how that stubble would feel along the inside of my thighs.
Get it together, Vickers! Stop with the sex thoughts!
I looked back down at the tablet in my hand and stared at the e-mail that still wasn’t making any sense. I was smart, everybody told me so. That’s why they hired my company. So, I needed to quit lusting over a cheat, and stay on point. But why did he have to push my buttons like no man ever had? I felt sweat beading on the back of my neck. I needed bourbon and my vibrator, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to use my toy while I was at my parents’ house. Well, there was always the old-fashioned way, no batteries needed.
I looked up at him again, trying to think negative thoughts. The jerk had been outside the house like some kind of stalker. How in the hell did he know I was home?
“A friend’s mother came here. They really helped her.” Michael said. He kept his voice low, even though the only other people in there were involved in their own deep conversation.
“Huh?”
“I just wanted to let you know that this is a really good facility.”
Okay. Good. This is good. I can concentrate on this.
As soon as Mom had told me we were coming to the Cancer Institute at Knoxville’s UT Medical Center, I’d done a hell of a lot of online research. Michael was right. It was top-notch. I’d also done a deep dive on Dad’s oncologist. Dr. Patel had received her degree in medicine from the University of Michigan. I had no idea if it mattered, but the school did a lot of research in oncology, hopefully it rubbed off.
“Fallon?”
“Yeah, I read up on this place. You’re right, this place is great,” I agreed. “So’s his oncologist.”
Michael dipped his chin and stared at me.
“Are you doing okay?”
Shit, he had that concerned look on his face. That pretty face. I looked back down at my tablet. Seriously, who was he to have that look of concern?
Remember, he’s a cheat.
Why in the hell was he pretending to be concerned?
“Why are you even here?” I gritted out the question.
Michael dropped his leg, planted both feet on the floor, and leaned forward. “I was outside your house because I just hoped to get a glimpse of you, that was all.”
“Why? That doesn’t make any kind of sense.” I could hear my Southern accent getting thicker. It always did when I was stressed or angry.
“How can you say that? Of course it makes sense. For the longest time you were the most important person in my world. I had to see you.”
Somehow, I kept my jaw from dropping to the floor. I have no idea how, but I managed it. I looked around and that couple was still engrossed in their conversation. I took a deep breath. “Michael, I agree, we did mean something to one another. You chose to destroy that. That was your choice. Once we get Mom and Dad back to the house, stay away. If you see me walking down the street, cross to the other side. If you come in and see me in a restaurant, turn around and leave. Am I being clear enough?”
Michael rocked back in the uncomfortable chair and stared at me. He finally spoke. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“As a heart attack.”
He rubbed his knuckles against his chin. The look he gave me was considering, not chastened.
Dammit!
“I’m serious,” I growled, trying to figure out another way I could make my point.
“Okay. You’re serious.”
“Michael. You killed us dead. I never intended to come back, but I had to. The decent thing for you to do is to stay away.”
“I heard what you said.”
Gah! I hated when he said that. That meant he wasn’t agreeing with me. This was his doublespeak for ‘I’ll do whatever the hell I want.’
“Michael, you owe me this.” God, was I whining?
“It’s been nine years, Sunshine.”
“Don’t call me that!”
He nodded.
He still wasn’t agreeing with me. He was just nodding, or saying ‘I hear you,’ but no real agreement.
The bastard.
“I know what you’re doing,” I hissed.
He smiled slowly, and I felt my bones melt.
My parents came out the door, back into the waiting room. Dad was in a wheelchair. He was looking even more tired than when he’d gone in. I could see that Mom was rattled. It had not gone well. Michael and I stood up at the same time. As soon as Dad saw us—okay when he saw Michael—he plastered a big smile on his face.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Michael. Damned doctors. Always poking and prodding. I tell you what, they’re damned vampires.”
“What did they have to say?” I asked.
He turned to me and frowned. “No need to stir up a hornet’s nest. I tell you what, since Michael’s with us, maybe we can go out. I haven’t had a meal out in I don’t know how long. I’ve been hankering for a bacon cheeseburger from Pearl’s. Maybe some onion rings and a shake.”
“Bob, honey, that’s not going to be good for your digestion,” my mom said softly. She was right; I’d seen the finely cut up chicken and applesauce she’d been serving him for dinner. Heck, most of it came back uneaten. Dad was out of his ever-loving mind.
“Woman, I know what I can handle.” He winked at Michael. “What do you think? I’m buying.”
“I’m so hungry, I could eat two burgers,” Michael said. “I sure hope there’s leftovers. And you better guard your onion rings, Mr. Vickers, those are my favorites.”
“What’s with this Mr. Vicker’s shit? You used to call me Bob.” Dad grinned again. “I suppose I could share some of my onion rings with you.”
Mom looked at Michael like he hung the moon. I have to admit, I was pretty impressed by the way he’d just finessed things. He was not the man I remembered. But hell, Michael had been twenty-two when I had known him last. Now he was thirty-one. Apparently, he’d done a lot of growing up.
Michael helped Dad into my SUV again, and I drove us to Pearl’s, with Michael following us. Looking at the parking lot, I could tell we’d arrive before the lunchtime rush. I parked in the handicapped parking spot.
“What are you doing?” Dad growled. “This is illegal. You don’t have a handicap tag. Nash’ll fine you for sure.”
“Nash?” I asked.
“He’s the sheriff, but you wouldn’t know, now, would you? He’s been the sheriff here for the last three years.”
“Dad, I’m just parking here until Michael helps you inside, then I’ll park in another spot.” I kept my voice even, but it was tough.
“See, Bob, she’s going to obey the law,” my mom said soothingly, in a rare case of defending me.
There was a knock on the passenger side window. Michael was smiling as he opened the door. “Y’all ready for lunch?” he asked. “I’m starving.”
“Damn right I am, Son. But I don’t need your help getting out. I’m feeling pretty good today,” my dad told Michael.
“You can just use me how you want. Maybe just for balance.”
“Yeah, that’d be good,” my dad admitted.
I watched as Michael once again handled my dad with such tactful consideration that dad didn’t even realize he was being helped. Despite being so sick, Dad was still a big man, and Michael held his weight like it was nothing.
When Mom and Dad were out of the car, Dad rapped his knuckles on the glass. “Move the car, Fallon.”
I nodded. Finding another spot would give me some time to get my temper under control.
When I walked in, Pearl was already smiling and talking to my parents and Michael, then she saw me.
“Fallon. I didn’t expect to see you again.” Her voice was cold. Pearl was one of the nicest people in town. She welcomed everybody into her restaurant and having her greet me like this hit me like a punch in the gut. It was stupid of me to have thought I’d get any other kind of welcome no matter how nice she was. My bad.
I could only give a chin tilt in response.
“She’s here to help out at home,” Michael jumped in. “She had to close up her office in Chicago.”
I frowned at him. How did he know that?
“Well, isn’t that something?” Pearl said sarcastically.
“Give it a rest,” Michael murmured.
She shot him a look of surprise. So did my parents. Hell, so did I.
“Bob, what was I thinking? Let me get you a seat.” Pearl smiled at Dad. It was a genuine smile, one that she shared with Mom.
Dad had to lean on Michael to make it to a booth, where he dropped down with a groan. Mom slid in beside him, which left me sitting next to Michael. His big body took up a most of the space, and I found our shoulders pressed against one another.
I hated it.
I loved it.
“Holly will be here to get your orders, but in the meantime, what can I get y’all to drink?” Pearl asked as she handed out menus.
“I’ll have a strawberry shake,” Dad piped up.
“Bob, are you sure?”
Dad glowered at my mother. “I’m sure, Isla.”
“How about you, Isla?” Pearl asked.
“I’ll have an iced tea,” Mom said.
Pearl glanced at me.
“Same.”
“Michael?” Pearl’s voice was as sweet as the tea would be.
“Dr. Pepper.”
“Coming right up.” Pearl looked around the table and smiled at everyone but me. Which was fine. At least I knew where I stood.
My hands were clenched on the red Naugahyde on either side of me. I jumped when Michael closed his hand over the one next to him. I felt the same old spark run up my arm. It was the same hand that had promised me the world, then cruelly yanked it away. I wasn’t sure if the sparks were fury… or something far worse. I pulled away and glared at him.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered.
“What?” my dad asked.
“Michael was asking what I was going to order.”
“Chicken fingers with honey mustard and tater tots,” my mom spoke up. I looked at her in surprise. She had a stricken look on her face. Like she had taken the Lord’s name in vain.
Great, just great. Mom remembering my favorite meal at Pearl’s was some kind of sin.
I feel the love.
This time Michael just stroked his thumb over my fist. I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see his pity. Or worse yet, I couldn’t bear to see understanding and empathy like in the old days.
This was going to be the longest meal of my life.