Hold Me (29 page)

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Authors: Betsy Horvath

BOOK: Hold Me
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“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah.” Luc didn’t look up from the photo as David Allen entered the room and dropped into the chair next to the bed. Instead, he traced Katie’s young face with his fingertip. “Any particular reason you bring it up now?”

“Melanie told me you let Katie leave. You’re throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to you, you shithead.”

Jesus, wasn’t it bad enough that Mel had completely shifted gears and was now devoting herself to getting him to hook up with Katie? Did she have to bring David into it too?

“Lay off.” He didn’t want to discuss Katie with anyone, not even the man who was as much of a brother as anyone he’d ever known.

“I don’t know what kind of guilt trip you’re on this time, Vasco, but it’s getting kind of old. The girl loves you. Even you should be able to see that.”

“She’ll get over it.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. Bullshit.”

Luc looked up from the photo and noted with dull surprise that David really was angry. Angry like he hadn’t seen him in a long time. “She deserves better than me,” he said. The explanation sounded weak, but then he wasn’t particularly strong at the moment.

David leaned forward, his dark face tight and drawn, his eyes haunted. Full of pain and memories that Luc could not guess at, not even after all this time. “You listen to me, Lucas Vasco. You are rejecting the greatest gift life has to offer. No matter why it happened, no matter how quickly it happened, somebody loves you. Really, truly, deeply loves you. And you’re flushing it down the toilet.”

“No, I—”

“I know you’ve done some terrible things. Hey, join the club. I know you think you’re doing what’s best for her, or some other shit like that. But let me tell you, buddy, most people live their entire lives, their entire fucking lives, and never have the chance to experience one tenth of the love Katie McCabe was prepared to give you.”

Luc’s whole body was tight and sore. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh, you think so, huh? Listen up, bright boy. I saw her leaning over your body on the beach. I heard her scream when she thought you were going to die. So don’t tell me what I don’t know. Believe me, I know more about this than you can possibly imagine.”

Luc didn’t reply, just couldn’t.

The other man stared at him, took a deep breath, another, then abruptly stood and walked over to the door. He glanced back over his shoulder.

“If you throw this away, you’re going to regret it. You’ll always wonder what might have happened if you’d had enough balls to take a chance. Love like Katie has for you, and you have for her, is…well, it’s a miracle. And most miracles only happen once.” He paused. “You think about that before you just give it up.”

“David—” Luc finally found his voice, but it was too late. David had already gone.

Alone again, Luc looked at the photograph. This time he saw Katie as she was today superimposed over the face of the girl she had once been. New over old.

He’d hurt her. He knew he had. He’d meant to. But in the process he’d hurt himself too. Now his life seemed gray. Lonely. David was right, because every time he looked at this photo, he’d see Katie and think about what might have been. What could have been if he’d only reached for it. Why shouldn’t he…?

No. He shook his head, denying the voice that whispered he was making a serious mistake. No, it didn’t matter how he felt. It was better they go their separate ways now. Better for her. He’d just go home to the Museum with Spot. He’d let Katie get on with her life while he got on with his. While he forgot about wild red hair, blue, blue eyes, and freckles that tasted like specks of brown sugar.

The soft, pale skin in the yellow lamplight.

Who was he kidding? He’d never forget her. Never.

So, okay.

Okay, maybe he wouldn’t forget. But he’d try to continue.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Weeks after Atlantic City, Katie was still trying not to measure everything in relation to Luc. It wasn’t working. Her family was worried. Again. And who could blame them. The woman currently reflected in her bedroom mirror had large dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes. She looked like she was sick.

Katie shook herself like a wet dog. Like Spot after she’d climbed out of the fountain at the hotel and Luc had laughed…

Stop it! She was being pathetic, and she was tired of it. She had too much to do to waste time moping around like this. She was in the middle of packing up her apartment because she’d decided to move in with Brenna and save a little money. Next week she was going to start looking for a new job, even though David had worked his magic so she still had her old one. She desperately needed a change because she couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t focus. She knew she was making mistakes, that there had been talk around the office. Once she was at a new place, she’d be able to forget.

She’d never forget.

Katie grabbed a tissue and blew her nose with determined ferocity. Lucas Vasco had had his chance, and he’d blown it. Now it was time for Katherine McCabe to get busy and get on with her life.

She snapped her fingers at her reflection. Her life, damn it. Her life.

Without Luc.

Her shoulders sagged.

Boy, she missed him.

Sighing, she grabbed the box of clothes she’d gone into the bedroom to get and went back to the living room where her mother was industriously packing books. Her mom and Brenna had both offered to help today, but Brenna had been called in to work, so Katie and her mother were alone.

Her mother glanced up when Katie entered the room. “I’m almost finished here,” she reported. “What’s next?”

“Well, I guess the kitchen—” Katie was interrupted by an unexpected knock on the apartment door.

She and her mother both jumped and stared at each other.

“Jeez, we’re a couple of cowards,” Katie laughed. “I, uh, I’d better go see who it is.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” her mom assured her.

Together, tense, they walked to the door. Katie peered through the peephole. She let out a squeak of surprise at the sight of her father standing in the hallway.

“Who is it?” Her mom asked.

Katie ignored her, unlocked the deadbolt and threw open the door. “Dad?”

Her mother went very still behind her.

Katie studied her father. She saw wildness in his eyes and he had a piece of paper crumbled in one massive fist.

“Hi,” he said to both of them, although Katie’s mother was the one he looked at. “Can I come in?”

“Um, okay.” Katie stood back, and her dad stepped past her. She closed the door and turned. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure.” Her father gave her an absent one-armed hug, just like he did it every day. “Give me a minute with your mom, okay?”

“Okay,” Katie said again. She looked between the two of them, but they weren’t paying any attention to her anymore, they were watching each other. She left the room, but the apartment wasn’t exactly spacious so she couldn’t help overhearing their conversation.

“Sean,” her mother whispered.

“Maureen,” he said, just as quietly.

“Where did you get that?” She must have been referring to the paper he was holding.

“I…uh, found it. It was on the floor. Behind the desk.” There was a pause. “I thought you were writing again. I wanted to read it. And then I found…this.”

“It’s a draft. I didn’t know what to say.” Her voice was soft, but Katie heard the sadness. Heard the pain.

She stood in her bedroom, staring at boxes and packing paper. Staring at the blank walls.

“You didn’t know what to say?” Her father’s voice rose until even the neighbors could probably hear him. Katie winced. She knew that tone. “We’ve been married thirty-six years, and you’re going to leave me with a ‘Dear John’ letter?”

“I…I…” She stuttered.

Katie’s breath stilled, her stomach clenched. Suddenly she was a little girl again, hiding in her bedroom, listening to her parents argue, wondering if her father would leave. Wondering if her mother would stay.

“I love you,” her mother said at last.

“You love me? You love me?” He laughed, but it was a harsh and brittle sound. “Well, you’ve got a fine way of showing it, don’t you, Maureen?”

“Yes.” Her mother’s voice rose now, too, trembling with emotion. “Yes, I do have a fine way of showing it, as a matter of fact. I gave you six children and was mother to seven. I forgave you when you ran around with another woman.”

Katie took a deep breath. She should not be hearing this. This was not something meant for her.

“I cared for you, nursed you when you were sick or hurt. I stood by you in richer and in poorer, when you were being kind or when you were being an ass. I never, ever cheated on you. I’ve never even wanted to look at another man. Not since that first day. I loved you then, Sean, and I love you now. I’ve loved you all of these years.”

“Maureen—”

“But you never loved me.”

Katie put her hands over her ears, but she could still hear them. She could still hear Luc. She could still see him looking at her, turning away from her.

“What are you talking about? You’ve got to know that I care about you.” His voice was confused, and Katie knew he didn’t understand. He really didn’t. Maybe Luc didn’t understand either.

“I know you care,” her mom said. “That’s what makes it so hard. But it’s not enough anymore.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I want to be more to you than your wife and the mother of your children.”

“Sweet Jesus, you know I’m not good at interpreting this kind of emotional shit. Just tell me what you mean, damn it.”

“I want to be vital to you. Not just someone who makes your lunch and washes your underwear.”

Yes, Katie thought. That’s what she wanted too. She wanted to be vital.

“What the hell?” Her father roared. “Woman, you are driving me crazy. I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation. You’re coming home with me now, and that’s final.”

Katie turned and opened the bedroom door so she could see them. Her father sounded so angry, so hurt. She didn’t think he would ever strike her mother, but she had to make sure.

Her mom was standing, staring at her husband, her arms wrapped tightly around her own waist. She didn’t look afraid, just sad. Worn. Fragile. She was never fragile.

“No,” she said. “No, I’m not coming with you.”

Her father’s face grew red, and his eyes went hard. He pointed a finger at her mother. Katie took a step forward, ready to intervene. “You listen to me, Maureen McCabe. Either you come home with me now, or you don’t come home at all. Do you hear me?”

Her mother nodded. “Yes, I hear you.”

“Well, then—”

“No,” she said. “No.”

They just stared at each other.

“Fine. Good.” Her father ripped up the letter and threw it at her mother so it rained down on her head like confetti. “Have a nice life. Forget about getting any of your things.” He stomped to the door and pulled it open so violently that it banged into the wall. Then he paused on the threshold, his head turned slightly. “I didn’t mean that, Mo. Send one of the kids over to get your stuff. But you never set foot in my house again.”

“It was always your house, Sean,” she whispered, choking. Katie saw the tears streaming down her face. “It was never ours.”

He just nodded and slammed the door shut behind him.

As soon as he was gone, her mother sank down on the floor and covered her face with her hands.

Katie rushed over to her. “Mom? Mom, are you all right?”

“No. No, I’m not.”

Katie knelt beside her and held her tightly while she cried.

“He’ll feel terrible about yelling like that,” Mom said finally. “He always does. He doesn’t think before he talks.”

“Are you going back?” Katie asked.

“No,” her mother said softly. “I’m not going back.”

“You’re going to leave him? Divorce him?”

“I don’t know.”

“What will you do?”

“I don’t know that either.”

Katie hesitated. “So you weren’t, uh, planning this?”

Her mom gulped back a sob. “I was trying to figure out what to say to him. I thought I’d have more time. Maybe ease him into it a little.” She glanced at Katie and sighed. “I hurt him, honey. That’s why he lashed out at me. I hurt his pride. But he’s hurt me too. More than he even knows. Or cares.”

Then Katie and her mother both wept for a while.

 

Luc stretched out on the sofa in the family room at the Museum with Spot snoring gently next to the empty fireplace. The wide screen television droned in the background. He barely heard it.

He was still on medical leave, but David had called to tell him that Liza had escaped from custody. They’d traced her to a plane heading for Rio, and David was certain she was out of the country. The authorities had been holding her for a psych eval, which took for freaking ever, especially since she was all lawyered up. Apparently she’d seduced one of the guards at the facility, then brained the idiot with his own gun and walked out.

Luc didn’t care. As long as she was gone and Katie was safe.

Katie.

Jesus, she was everywhere. Everywhere he looked. Everywhere he went. Standing outside on the patio. Sleeping in his bedroom. Dancing around the kitchen table. Laughing up at him with blue eyes. Lying here on the crimson Oriental carpet, where she’d kissed him so sweetly. Where they’d made love…

He jumped off the sofa as if it had scorched him, stalked to the kitchen, grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. Spot immediately woke and padded after him, but he ignored her. He wasn’t really supposed to drive yet, but he didn’t give a shit what the doctors said, and he had to get out of here. Had to drive and drive and drive until he left everything behind. Until he left her behind.

He practically ran for the car.

Luc drove for hours. Anywhere. Nowhere. It didn’t matter where he went, he couldn’t shake the memory of Katie sitting next to him, touching him. The roads snapped by in a blur. Trees and sky and buildings and asphalt. Pain in his shoulder as he followed a curve, reminding him of bleeding on the beach in Atlantic City.

She’d said she loved him. She’d said it, and he’d heard her.

And he remembered that, as he’d been running from Silvano’s thugs, he’d thought that fighting was the one thing he’d always been good at. But he hadn’t fought for Katie.

Katie, who loved him.

All of this time he’d been certain he was doing what was best. For her. But was David right? Was he throwing away a miracle?

He drove, and he brooded.

And as he brooded, as he contemplated his empty, angry life, he finally understood something else. He needed her. Whatever happened in the future, he wasn’t going to make it without her. She was his center.

He might not be the best guy in the world, but she was his. His, damn it. And she always had been. Right or wrong, he just couldn’t let her go.

Jesus Christ, he couldn’t let her go.

He loved her. He loved Katie McCabe.

And he’d shoved her away. Hurt her.

He drove blindly, thinking of her face as she’d left the hospital room, thinking how set and pale it had been. Thinking of the anguish he’d seen in her eyes.

She’d never forgive him.

Fear gripped him, churned in his belly. Had he completely fucked things up? Was he too late? Had he thrown away his one chance?

No, he decided. No. He wouldn’t let himself believe it. If she turned him away, turned him down, he’d be left with nothing.

He’d tell her how he felt. Tell her what she meant to him. He’d grovel. He’d beg. She had to forgive him.

What if she had changed her mind? What if she’d turned to somebody else in the last couple of weeks?

He’d kill the fucking son of a bitch.

Luc gripped the steering wheel hard, until the pain shot through his still healing muscles. She’d forgive him, he assured himself. He couldn’t be too late.

Maybe he should romance her, woo her. Lord knew he hadn’t given her any softness during their time together. He could charm the ladies, he knew how. Surely he could charm the one who really mattered.

Luc turned the car back to the Museum. The germ of an idea took root in his mind and grew, developed. Yeah, romance her. Make it special. Let her know that he treasured her. As long as he wasn’t too late. Dear God, he couldn’t be too late. He pushed harder on the accelerator, and the old Volvo practically left the road.

Flipping open his cell phone, he hit the speed-dial for Melanie.

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