Chapter Five
Quickly, they gathered up their things. Lexie took her folders, and Maxie collected everything she and Zac had found. They left copies on the table for Roxie, but she just pushed everything together in a heap. If she stayed here one second longer, she was going to start climbing the walls.
Fresh air. Sunshine. Outside in the crisp air, maybe she could clear her head and organize her thoughts. She’d been surprised when Billy had walked in the door, morning sunlight glowing all around him. She’d been laying odds that he’d be gone by the time she made it back upstairs.
Not that she’d been looking forward to finding her apartment empty, the bed still mussed and the scent of his aftershave lingering in the air…
“I drove Maxie over,” Lexie said as she pulled out her key fob. “Maybe you two should take another vehicle so we don’t have to come back over here to drop you off.”
What? Roxie’s head came up. No, no. She didn’t want to be stuck in a car with him.
“I need to move my rental anyway,” Billy said. He put on his shades when they walked out into the bright sunlight. “It’s only a few blocks.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Well, darn it all.
“You know where to go, Lexie?” Roxie called in resignation.
“Is it Fisherman’s Road?”
“That’s the one.”
“We’ll see you there.”
The day was bright, but it carried a chill in the air. Roxie stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and followed Billy as they headed down the block. Her heels sounded loud against the concrete.
“So… Fisherman’s Road,” he ventured.
He would pick that up. “Shush.”
“Isn’t that where we used to go to make out?”
She jabbed him with an elbow. “I said shush.”
He sidestepped to avoid the blow but came back with a chuckle. “Ah, I remember it well.”
So did she. It had been the place to go when they were teenagers.
Some of the tension drained from her body.
The “mornings after” were always dodgy for them.
Neither of them knew what to say or how to act.
They’d been through this cycle over and over again throughout the years.
He’d come back and they’d fall into bed, only to scramble out of it in the morning, usually to fight.
There’d been no fighting this morning.
She wondered how they would have reacted if her sisters hadn’t been around. Last night had been… different.
A breeze flitted through the air, lifting her hair and sending a chill down her neck. She moved a bit closer to Billy’s big body as they headed down the street. “You seem to know a lot about conducting a search for someone.”
“It’s nothing you don’t know already. It’s just street smarts.”
“Billy.” She knew him better than that. She’d seen the truth on his face. “You went looking for your mother.”
He pulled up short, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.
“Yeah,” he said roughly.
“Did you find her?” Roxie’s voice was wispy as smoke.
He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Yes, and that’s how I know it’s not all rainbows and bunny rabbits.”
He started down the sidewalk again, but she caught his arm. Her fingers snagged on the leather cuff he wore around his wrist. “How bad was it?”
He didn’t look at her, but he did focus more intently on the sidewalk in front of them. “Pretty bad,” he muttered under his breath.
Roxie’s eyes stung. They’d always known that his mother was out there somewhere. The circumstances surrounding his stay in foster care weren’t as cloudy as hers. Social Services had separated him from his mother when he was nine.
“She’s a meth head,” he said bluntly, with no attempt to soften the blow.
“Oh, Billy.” The wind left Roxie’s lungs. She took another step closer and wrapped her arm through his. She leaned a little his way, letting him feel her as they walked down the sidewalk, side by side.
There was no distance between them in this. She wasn’t expecting a happy ending for herself, but she’d wished one for him. “Where did you find her?”
“Under a bridge in Minneapolis. She was homeless at the time.”
Roxie leaned her head against his shoulder. “Did she know who you were?”
“Once I explained it, yeah. She was sorry.” He stopped to clear his throat. “Really sorry about everything.”
“But?”
“But she’s sick. That crap has a hold on her… She was too high to take care of me when I was a kid, and then losing me apparently played games with her head.”
Roxie tried to work up some sympathy for the woman, but it was difficult. His childhood had played games with his head, too.
“Was it worth it?” she asked. “Tracking her down and finding her?”
“I don’t know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “She was all weepy and begging for forgiveness, but by the time I left, she was asking me for money.”
Roxie closed her eyes against the fury of red that flooded her vision. To support her habit, no doubt. Talk about a knife in the stomach.
“Have you kept in touch?” She kept the words soft, but her jaw was set.
“She’s in a care facility now.”
“Are you paying for it?”
He didn’t deny it. He looked out over the river as they walked down the street that ran next to it. “I suppose it was for the best that she gave me up.”
For the best.
Funny how that knife so quickly changed directions. Roxie felt the twinge and she stiffened. With a twist, the pain became anger all over again. Moving deliberately, she unwrapped her arm from his and stepped away to walk on her own.
For the best.
The clenched muscle in her jaw began to ache. Three little words.
Amazing how she could still hate them so much.
He finally looked at her. His eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, but she could feel the weight of his stare. “Are you prepared for something like that, babe? Do you really want to know all the deep, dark secrets?”
She was used to being let down.
“I wasn’t lying. I just want an explanation for the way things turned out. I don’t want to meet anyone or form any bonds.” She certainly didn’t want to listen to excuses and pleas for forgiveness. She just wanted that damn sword that constantly hung over her head removed.
And if she found someone she could direct her anger towards, all the better.
“I don’t have any illusions that a happily-ever-after is out there waiting for me.”
The tilt of his head indicated he didn’t quite believe her, but lucky for him, he didn’t say so.
He gestured towards a truck on the street. “The least we should be able to do is find out why your sisters were adopted and you weren’t.”
Boy, all with the jabby-jabby today. Roxie rolled her shoulders in discomfort. “Already know the answer to that one,” she said as she yanked the passenger door open. “There was a couple there for each of us, but mine backed out.”
He stopped with the keys hovering over the ignition. “Backed out?”
“Yup,” she said, staring out the window. It had been the start of a long series of her being the one who was left behind. The unlovable one.
But—oh wait—her parents had done that to her first.
“God, Rox.” Reaching out, he caught her hand.
For once, she didn’t pull away.
She leaned her head back against the headrest. The truck was plush with leather seats and a high-tech dash. Trust Billy to upgrade. If he was driving a rental, it wasn’t going to be a basic model.
“Wait until you see this billboard,” she said chirpily. She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “It’s a wing-dinger, if I do say so myself.”
He stared at her for a long, long moment. She thought he was going to push the matter, but then he fired up the engine. The tires peeled against the pavement as he pulled away from the curb. “And just how many wings have gotten dinged looking at it?”
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Now you’re getting the idea.”
He shook his head. “Fisherman’s Road. My wing got dinged a few times there.”
She finally relaxed. “If I do say so myself.”
The drive across the bridge didn’t take long, although navigating to the dirt road that looped back took a bit longer.
Fisherman’s Road was exactly like it sounded, a rough road that fishermen took down to the Cobalt River.
It also happened to pass right beside the billboards that were directed towards the busier interstate.
Billy soon caught up with Lexie’s Acura. She was driving about ten miles per hour and trying to avoid all the ruts in the road.
“Wouldn’t want that car to get dusty,” Roxie muttered.
“It’s a nice car,” Billy said, siding with her sister. “And she’s not in a hurry to make kissy-face with her boyfriend.”
“True.” Roxie braced herself in the corner of the cab so she could watch him. Right ahead was the bend in the road that would take them parallel to the interstate—and offer him his first glance of her modeling debut.
He took the corner at the sedate pace that Lexie had established, but Roxie knew when he saw it, because the engine gunned. He stomped on the brake to keep from ramming into the back of the Acura, but his gaze was directed up towards the sky.
She leaned forward so she could see the billboard, too. It was amazing how much bigger it was up close. It was like looking at the King Kong version of herself. Her hair was bigger, her eyes were bigger, and her boobs were… curvy, to say the least.
God, were those really in proportion?
She tossed Billy a glance and knew exactly where he was staring.
She poked him in the shoulder. “I told you it was good.”
“Dayum, Rox.” Pulling over to the side of the road, he flipped up his shades and sat back in wonder.
She’d seen the billboard a thousand times, but it pleased her to see his reaction to it. The picture did catch her best side. The red bustier was daring. It was form-fitted, lifting and supporting her curves, while at the same time threatening to expose her.
She’d thought that might catch some drinking men’s attention.
She glanced at Billy. She’d been right.
His gaze was hot as it swung to meet hers. The spacious cab suddenly seemed tiny, and the temperature rose about ten degrees. “Do you still have that thing?”