Free Falling (19 page)

He smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “Really? Have
you ever been arrested?”

Free drew in a harsh breath. “That’s none of
your business.”

Mac held up his hands and laughed derisively.
“You know, you’re right.” He pursed his lips and shook his head.
“It’s absolutely none of my business.” He pushed past her and
strode toward the door.

The air in Free’s lungs thinned. The whole
world seemed to crash in on her at once. She’d made a mistake.
She’d hurt Mac. Was her passion for old houses that important? Had
she done the right thing by helping the Chenille Street
preservation group?

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean
for things to happen this way.”

Mac waited a beat at the door before he
slowly turned back to face her. “Don’t sweat it,” he said curtly.
“
I own
the house on Chenille Street. The investors you took
on that little joyride today all signed contracts on this deal
weeks ago. The house comes down on Monday, Free. There’s nothing
you can do to stop it.” His gaze turned ice cold, sending a
terrifying chill across the room and straight through Free’s heart.
“What I don’t understand is why you lied to me about your past.
What did you hope to accomplish?”

Free blinked back the tears. She would not
cry. “I didn’t lie, Mac. Everything I told you was the truth.”

Mac rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Once,
seven years ago,” He shook his head. “You know, what’s so pathetic
about the whole situation is that I believed you. I honestly
believed you.” He plowed the fingers of one hand through his hair.
“Hell, you even had me seeing things your way—just a little.”

Despite her best efforts, one tear spilled
past her lashes and slid down her cheek. “I’m glad for that
anyway,” she managed in a shaky voice.

“What did you get out of all this, Free?”
Pain flashed in his eyes before he regained some self-control. “Did
you get some kind of thrill out of jerking me around? Was I some
sort of challenge?” he asked, his tone hard, cold.

Free shook her head, but couldn’t speak.
Another tear trickled downward.

Mac stared at her for one more heart-twisting
moment. “Well, I hope whatever it was, it was worth it.”

Then he left.

Free closed her eyes and allowed the tears to
fall. He would never believe anything she said again. Nothing she
could ever say or do would change his mind. Mac hated her.

And she loved him with all her heart.

~*~

Mac checked his watch again then stood.
“Look, Jake, it’s five-thirty. I say we give it a rest.”

Jake got to his feet. “Sounds good to me. I
never liked to work late on Fridays.” He followed Mac toward his
office door. “It’s been a hell of a day, between the conference
fiasco and this afternoon’s damage control. What do you say we go
out and have a cold one?”

“Thanks, but I need some downtime.” The only
thing that Mac wanted to do was get in his Explorer and drive back
to Atlanta. He didn’t want to even think about anything connected
to the state of Alabama until Monday.

The door to Mac’s office suddenly flew open
and Alex stormed trough it. She looked madder than hell and ready
to act on it.

Mac braced himself for her verbal assault.
She walked straight up to him and, before he realized her
intention, slapped him hard. The unexpected blow rattled him. He
shook his head and then rubbed his stinging jaw.

“Alex, what the hell are you doing?” Jake
bellowed. Concern creased his brow, but Mac couldn’t tell if it was
for him or Alex.

“Shut up, Jake. This doesn’t concern you.”
She turned her full attention to Mac. “You are unquestionably the
biggest jerk I have ever met in my entire life. And believe me,
I’ve met plenty.” She shot Jake a look.

Mac started to respond, but she cut him
off.

“Shut it and listen,” she hissed. “I don’t
know where you got your information, but Free Renzetti is one of
the kindest people on the face of this planet.” Alex balled her
fists at her sides. “Yes, she was arrested twice for solicitation
six years ago, but the only thing she was guilty of was being in
the wrong place at the wrong time—trying to help a friend who
needed rescuing from a bad life. But like you, the cops were too
stupid to see the truth. The last time she tried to help that
friend, the friend’s pimp almost beat Free to death. The friend was
pregnant, so Free took the rap for assaulting the creep to keep her
out of jail.”

Mac shuddered as the thought of someone
physically hurting Free. He stood stock-still and listened to
Alex’s words, not sure he could take a chance and go out any
further on an emotional limb. He’d done that already and look where
it had gotten him.

“Thomas Styles cared about Free. He knew that
she’d never had a break in her life and he wanted to give her one.
So he took her into his home.” Her gaze narrowed to emerald slits.
“He loved her, Mac. Loved her like a daughter. And she loved him
like a father. Get it? Like a
father
.”

Regret washed over Mac. The insinuations he’d
flung at Free echoed in his ears. Beside him, Jake shifted
uncomfortably.

“She has used every cent he left her to aid
one cause or another, mostly the homeless.” Alex smiled. “She
turned the top two floors of the house into apartments to help
finance its maintenance after she’d run out of money.” Alex pinned
Mac with a deadly glare. “She gives too much. She was even willing
to go to jail over your damned magnolia tree.” Alex flung her arms
in exasperation. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was for her
to do that after the times she had been hauled in for something she
didn’t do?” Alex swallowed visibly. “Do you have any idea of how
they treat women who are arrested for solicitation?”

Mac shook his head. “I didn’t know,” he
offered, then released a heavy breath. “The facts—”

“The facts are misleading,” Alex cut in
sharply. “How on earth did you get your information anyway?” she
demanded.

Mac stalled.

Jake sighed mightily. “I ran a routine
background check,” he admitted.

“You?” Alex glared at her colleague, her
anger renewing itself a hundredfold.

“Me,” he muttered.

Before either of them had a clue as to what
was about to happen, Alex slammed her fist into Jake’s gut. He
grunted and doubled over in obvious pain.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she said, as she
shook the hand she’d belted him with. “
You’re
the biggest
jerk I’ve ever met.”

Alex turned back to Mac and his abdomen
clenched in anticipation of the same treatment.

“I hope you appreciate how much it cost Free
to allow you so close. Thomas was the only person she’d ever let
anywhere near her heart. He was the first solid thing in her life
and he died. She reached out to you, Mac, and what did you do?”
Alex shook her head in disgust. “You took what she had to offer and
then threw her away.”

A muscle jerked in Mac’s tense jaw. “She
tricked me. She lured me from my meeting and made me look like a
fool.” He swallowed tightly. Despite Alex’s revelations, the
betrayal still stung.

“Well, think about it, Mac. She did it for a
cause she believed in. Would you have invited her—or any of the
Chenille Street Preservation Committee—to give our side of the
story?”

“Maybe,” Mac said under his breath.

Alex smiled sweetly. “I don’t think so. One
more thing, Mac. You are a fool if you let her go.”

Chapter Ten

Mac, with Oliver in tow, had spent the rest
of the weekend in pure hell. He had driven home to Atlanta and
sulked for forty-eight hours. His townhouse no longer felt like
home. The clean, dramatic lines he had admired when he’d bought the
place now seemed cold and harsh. When he’d considered driving to
the office to catch up on business there, he couldn’t work up the
enthusiasm to actually do it. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat.
Finally, unable to stand it any longer, he had gotten up at two
a.m. on Monday morning to drive back to Huntsville.

Mac parked his Explorer on the street across
from the demolition site. He exhaled wearily as he surveyed the
group of protestors surrounding the Chenille Street house. Seven in
the morning and they were already there. Roy Nelson, the site
supervisor, had obviously called the police since several cruisers
were parked on the street as well.

Mac opened his door and stepped out into the
breezy morning. The radio weatherman had said the temperature was
unseasonably cool, but Mac knew it wouldn’t take long for things to
heat up around here. In more ways than one, he thought as he
glanced toward the crowd who were no doubt waiting for him to make
a command decision. Mac settled his hard hat into place, then
crossed the street. Jake and Roy met him at the edge of the
property.

“The demolition crew is in place, but I
thought it would be best to wait until you arrived since you were
en route,” Roy said quickly.

Mac knew what he meant. Roy Nelson didn’t
want to be the one to tell the police to take the protestors away.
Mac’s gaze flitted to the ringleader. He clenched his jaw when Free
met his gaze with challenge in her own. Her long, brown tresses
shifted around her shoulders in the gust of wind that kicked up.
Mac’s fingers curled into fists with the need to touch that silky
stuff. Her ankle-length flowing skirt flapped around her legs,
accentuating her shape and reminded him of her dancing in the
rain.

The memory of making love with Free, of just
being with Free, had filled every minute of every hour he had been
away. He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life without
ever seeing her again. But Mac couldn’t fathom the concept of
sharing his life completely with another human being. His life had
been so uncomplicated before coming here. He had focused solely on
work; everything else had remained secondary, unimportant in the
overall scheme of things.

Now nothing made sense. Even work didn’t
appeal to him quite the way it had before. That particular
obsession was gone, replaced by a flame so strong and so hot that
it threatened to consume him. It burned deep in his soul and he
didn’t know how to quench it. It made him uneasy, restless. It made
him want things he hadn’t planned to want at this point in his
life.

He couldn’t do it.

Somehow, Mac decided, he had to get things
back in order. He had to regain control over his destiny. And now
was the perfect time to start. He walked straight up to Free and
looked down at her with as much indifference as he could muster.
Her gaze turned wary.

“If you and your friends don’t leave
peacefully right now,” Mac said pointedly, “I’ll have to ask the
police to escort you off this work site. Those who resist will be
taken to jail.”

“Don’t do this, Mac,” she urged, a plea in
her voice that touched something deep inside him, made him want to
hold her.

He pushed the feelings away. “It’s my job,
Free. It’s what I do.”

“You’re an architect,” she argued. “You’re
supposed to pay attention to the way things are made. You’re
supposed to care.”

Mac looked away, unable to bear the
disappointment in her eyes. He turned to Roy. “Do what you have to
do,” he said. The crestfallen expression of the old architect,
Towery, caught Mac’s eye briefly. In that fleeting instant of
contact something passed between the two men. Something knowing and
fiercely sad. The moment passed, but the feeling the contact evoked
didn’t. For the first time in his life, Mac had no desire to watch
what was about to take place. The only thing he felt was
self-disgust. He didn’t want to see the protestors hauled away. He
didn’t want to see the grand old house fall.

He had to get away. Mac started in the
direction of his Explorer with no intention of looking back. The
rumble in the crowd of protestors told him that the police had
moved in. Indignant shouts rang out behind him, but he forced
himself to disregard them. Why was preserving something old so
important to these people? Important enough to be arrested
over?

A sharp pang of regret pierced him. Mac
hesitated when something Free had said to him echoed inside his
head.
This home is our history. It tells us where we’ve been.
And connects us to the past.
The past had never meant anything
to Mac. Why should it now? He didn’t need the past.

“That’s too tight!”

The sound of pain in Free’s voice jerked him
around. He saw the haunted expression on her face, and then the
proud lift of her chin as the policeman adjusted the handcuffs on
her delicate wrists. Mac winced, ashamed of himself. The thought of
her enduring another trip to jail, especially because of him,
squeezed his chest. His heart pounded erratically when the officer
opened the door to the cruiser and prepared to usher Free
inside.

“Wait!!” he shouted. In four swift strides
Mac covered the distance between them. “Take them off,” he
demanded.

Bewildered, the officer shrugged and
complied. With the metal bracelets removed, Free gingerly rubbed
her wrists, and glared furiously at Mac.

“Come with me,” he ordered tersely. He
captured Free’s hand and all but dragged her into the house.

In the middle of the parlor he released her,
planted his hands on his hips and stared down at her with as much
uncertainty as anger. “Make me see what it is that’s so damned
important to you and your friends.”

Free moistened her lips and took a deep
breath. “Close your eyes, Mac,” she said softly.

Impatient, annoyed, and thoroughly wildered,
Mac exhaled loudly, then closed his eyes. He forced all thought
aside. If he allowed himself to think now, he would realize that he
had certainly lost his mind. Mac never hesitated or second-guessed
himself. Why in the hell was he doing it now?