Authors: Kate Douglas
Intimate (39 page)
No mention of the grueling hours of training RJ had gone through, the lost childhood while he'd spent every free moment with a harsh coach, swimming, perfecting his style, building strength and endurance.
His parents said RJ had failed them.
Even Ben knew their parents had failed their sons. They never should have been parents, but he didn't tell them that. He didn't say anything. He'd merely turned away and walked out the front door.
Now, sitting here in the rental car, parked at the cemetery where a mother and her son would rest forever, he realized there was only one thing he could do. He had to find RJ. Find out what happened. Find out if he was okay.
He would find a way to make things right.
He gazed across the shadowy expanse of green, of wilted flowers at a few plots, and knew exactly where the young woman and her child were buried. But just like that other night when he'd come here, he didn't have the courage to walk across the grass. He was a fucking coward, afraid to stand over her grave and apologize for the terrible thing he'd done.
He'd start with RJ. Once he cleared things with his brother, maybe then he'd be able to somehow beg forgiveness of that poor woman.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Ben had his laptop, but he hadn't expected this to be so hard. It was after seven, the day just about shot, when he picked up a newspaper and stopped at a cafe in the Tenderloin for something to eat. No sign of RJ. He'd tried searching under Richard Lowell and RJ Cameron, but found only a small amount of info about his Olympic wins and brief career, a short article about his time at the California Youth Authority for involuntary manslaughter, but no recent word of his brother, not when he got out or anything about him after the trial ended.
As a juvenile, the records had been sealed.
He tried to remember if RJ had any friends, but the only one he recalled was some nerdy twerp named Marc. Marc something. Started with an
R
 â¦
The waitress brought him a cup of coffee and took his order. He finished the first section of the paper and opened the next, the one with more local news. A photo of a sharp looking, dark-haired man at some sort of premiere caught his attention. He looked vaguely familiar. Ben glanced at the caption:
Marcus Reed.
Could this be a grown-up version of Marc? He was introducing some kind of fancy new jewelry business, but it had to be the same guy.
Maybe he'd know how to find RJ. Now, if Ben could just find Marcus Reed. He pulled out a twenty and caught the waitress's attention. “I have to leave. This should cover the burger. Give it to someone who can use a free meal.” Handing her the money, he went in search of Marc.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
It was after nine when Ben pulled up in front of what looked like a converted row house on Twenty-third Avenue a few blocks south of Golden Gate Park. Actually, the whole street was lined with the housesâin all shapes, sizes and colorsâcreating a colorful row of seemingly attached yet distinctly separate homes with the garages beneath, living quarters above.
The streetlight was out, which made it feel even darker in the neighborhood than it already was. It was lateâtoo late to be knocking on a stranger's door, and he knew he should wait until tomorrow, but now that he was so damned close to finding RJ, he couldn't stop. Not after finally talking Marc into giving him the address, even though this wasn't RJ's.
Marc Reed had been a shock. Ben remembered him as a shy, skinny kid, and he'd never really figured out the friendship between him and RJ, but according to Marc they were still close. Composed, quietly self-confident, and obviously successful, Marc had been surprised to see Ben, but hadn't said much, and wouldn't say anything at all about RJ. He was still quiet, but he'd remembered Ben, oddly enough without any overt animosity.
Had RJ kept the secret from Marc as well? It was hard to tell, but he obviously wasn't real comfortable giving out RJ's information. Not until Ben said he'd come looking for his brother to right some very old wrongs. Marc had studied him for a moment without any comment, nodded, and then he'd written down this address.
Not RJ's house and not RJ's phone number. No, Marc had sent Ben to the girlfriend's house. His girlfriend's place where her two roommates also lived. He'd said the girlfriend had some sort of trouble up in the wine country, and RJ might still be there with her. Marc wasn't sure what was going on, but the roommates would know.
And no, he wouldn't give up RJ's phone number. The last thing his friend needed at this point in his life was a cold call from the brother who'd walked out when RJ needed him. He had enough on his plate.
But he wouldn't tell Ben what that might be. And he hadn't tried to disguise his obvious disapproval of Ben. It was only fair.
Ben glanced toward the door at the top of the stairs, got out of the car and locked it with his duffel and laptop inside. It was late for a strange man to be knocking on their door, especially since the porch light wasn't on, but bright lights glowed through the curtains.
With luck they'd let him in, or at least answer his questions.
No matter. He had to find RJ. Had to somehow fix what he'd screwed up so long ago.
Â
A lifelong California native,
Kate Douglas
has always loved the power of stories, especially romances. You can learn more about her storiesâand lifeâby visiting her on the Web at
www.katedouglas.com
, or sign up for email updates
here
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Tangled
BY
KATE DOUGLAS
IN THE ANTHOLOGY
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CONTENTS
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
INTIMATE
Copyright © 2015 by Kate Douglas.
Excerpt from
Redemption
Copyright © 2016 by Kate Douglas.
All rights reserved.
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eISBN: 978-1-4668-7119-9
St. Martin's Paperbacks edition / December 2015
St. Martin's Paperbacks are published by St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
