Laws of Attraction (31 page)

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Authors: Diana Duncan

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BOOK: Laws of Attraction
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Then he climbed into his car and drove toward the airport, where a ticket awaited him. He’d finally achieved what he’d craved, what he’d fought for with everything he had for a decade.

Why did he feel so desolate?

Chapter 19

 

 

During those eighteen days, Mia went through the motions of rebuilding her life. She applied to reinstate her attorney’s license and the process was moving in her favor, expedited by the DA’s gratitude for her part in decimating the Montoya organization.

Val had returned from Boston and Mia confessed
all
to her best friend, including her difficult childhood, and everything that had happened with Dallas … and received unconditional, loving support. Mia also reluctantly accepted a loan from Val and Jared to tide her over until she could find another temp job while her license paperwork cleared.

Mia went to Dallas’ house with a key and passcode relayed through Zane, and cleaned out her things. If they ended up living together, it’d be by mutual agreement and not because he’d felt obligated to move her in during the Montoya case. Although Dallas had bought the clothes, they were his gift to her, and she intended to keep them.

And yeah, she’d sobbed buckets during the entire process—again. Damn Cowboy had turned her into a crybaby. Once he’d unlocked her emotions, they refused to be stuffed back into the box.

Zane took her out for a wonderful Italian dinner to apologize for the angst he’d put her through, and she’d thoroughly enjoyed spending time with the intelligent, perceptive, dryly witty FBI Agent. She was looking forward to getting to know him better. And although he didn’t offer any truly personal information, now that he’d dropped the surly mask of his Montoya cover Mia saw a deep undercurrent of carefully hidden pain inside the alpha warrior.

She suspected she and Zane shared more in common than they’d ever realized.

She’d taken one day at a time, and staunchly refused to believe Dallas had permanently left her—until three days ago, when her bank had notified her of a mind-bogglingly large deposit into her account. She had no doubt who’d sent it, which meant Dallas was free and clear of the federal debriefing. But he didn’t call.

And despair began to creep in. Had her husband bestowed her with a pre-divorce settlement?

Oh, she’d survive, she always did. But her aching heart would belong to Dallas forever.

Tonight, Val had strong-armed her into a girl’s night, with ice cream sundaes for dinner and popcorn for dessert while watching DVDs of favorite action flicks. It was past midnight and her BFF had just left. Fighting the cold, echoing emptiness around her, inside her, Mia changed into her Roadrunner nightshirt. Then she fetched a damp cloth to wipe ice cream dribbles off the coffee table. “What’s this?” She bent and scooped a DVD case from beneath the sofa’s edge. “Transporter 3.”

When her doorbell buzzed, Mia hurried over with it in her hand and flung open her door, singing out, “Oh, you came back for Jason Statham, huh?”

At the sight of Dallas standing there, Mia’s heart lurched, and the DVD slipped from numb fingers.

“He’s not my type,” Dallas’ husky voice rumbled. “I came back for you.”

He looked exhausted. His Levis and black button-down shirt were wrinkled, his hair tousled. Stubble that had seen five o’clock several days ago dusted his strong jaw, and purple shadows smudged weary, haunted cobalt eyes.

She’d never seen anything more wonderful.

He shifted. “Look, I don’t blame you if you’re furious as hell, but if you’ll—”


Dallas
!” She leapt onto his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. Hugging him, she rained kisses all over his face.

The taut wariness eased from his big body, and he smiled. “Well, hello to you, too.”

“I’m not mad. I know you had to finish the job. And I understand about agency confidentiality.” She captured his face, kissed that beautiful mouth. “However, if you’d made me wait much longer, I might’ve been forced on general principle to kick your gorgeous ass around the block.”

“I’m sorry about that.” His smile turned rueful and he carried her inside, kicking the door shut behind them. “I’ve missed you with every heartbeat, sweetheart. Every single breath.”


Oh
.” The chill inside her melted as every doubt fled. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“I had to debrief for fifteen days. Then … I … I’ve been with Tyler-Anne. I just walked off the plane and drove directly home. When Zane said you wanted a key, I figured you were living there. But … you were gone.”

“I couldn’t assume—”

He shuddered. “I tell you, walking into that empty house gave me a bad few moments. Then I figured you’d returned here.”

Which explained why he looked like he’d been put through the wringer. But even tired and hurting, he’d come straight to her.

“Every year on my sister’s birthday, I stand a twenty-four hour vigil.” Dallas drew a ragged breath. “Seems the least I can do, seeing as how I sent her to her death.”

Mia swallowed, disengaged her arms from around his neck as Dallas eased her down onto the sofa. “You want to tell me why you believe that, cowboy?”

“No.” He sat beside her, propped his elbows on his knees and scrubbed unsteady hands over his face. “But I have to.”

“I’m listening. I’m here for you, Dallas.”

Fear and hope tangled inside Dallas, tying a hard knot in his gut. Dammit, this was more nerve-jangling than his first firefight.

He took a slow breath and marshaled his courage. “I graduated high school early in an accelerated program, then started college on football scholarships. At the beginning of my senior year of college, Torie and Christy started as freshmen at the same college. Mama began dating again. And Tyler-Anne, who was fourteen, starting running with a wild crowd. She stayed out at all hours, shirked her responsibilities and lashed out at Mama’s every word.”

“Fourteen is a tough age.”

As the memories bombarded him, he jumped up and began to pace. “Mama tried talking to her, but Tyler-Anne either ignored her, or flat-out defied her. Mama asked me to talk to her, because she’d always listened to me, and I promised I would.” His hands fisted. “I’d started training for my senior football season. We’d had scouts from professional teams watching our practices, and the rumor going around was that at least two teams wanted to offer me a contract. Back then, playing pro ball was my lifelong dream. I’d worked long and hard, and I doubled my efforts, hoping to impress the scouts.”

Shame washed over him and he lowered his voice. “But I was too busy to talk to my sister. I fully intended to, but never quite got around to it. I wasn’t unduly worried about her, the other girls went through some rocky times during their teens, too. I figured she’d eventually grow out of the phase, like they did.”

“A natural assumption,” Mia said.

His stomach clenched. “Well, it was one hell of a wrong assumption. A few weeks later, I got a phone call pulling me off the practice field. Tyler-Anne had gotten high … and thinking she could fly, jumped off the grandstand at the county fairgrounds.”

Mia made a soft, horrified sound in her throat. “Oh no.”

“She was still alive, but messed up bad. Both body and mind. After she healed from the worst of her injuries, the hospital recommended a private clinic in Miami for continuing physical therapy and drug rehab. They’d had remarkable success with troubled adolescents. You think I would have known better by then, but—” Continuing to pace, he watched his boots crushing the carpet with every step.

“It’s okay, Dallas,” she said gently. “Tell me the rest.”

“There was a mix-up with Tyler-Anne’s reservation and paperwork at the clinic, so Mama flew ahead to deal with it and be there to greet Tyler-Anne when she arrived. The morning my sister was supposed to fly out, I was scheduled to play a crucial game. A couple of pro scouts interested in me were gonna be there.” He stared through the window into the darkness, reliving the nightmare. “Tyler-Anne asked to talk to me before her plane left. She was unsure about what would happen in rehab, and I was her father figure. I was supposed to meet her at the airport, but at the last minute, the scouts wanted to talk to me. Mama assured me Tyler-Anne would be fine in the care of her nurse and told me not to throw away my future. She insisted I stay, then fly to Miami afterward to talk to Tyler-Anne.”

“Your mother sounds like a wise woman. I’d have done the same,” Mia reassured him.

He grimaced. “She didn’t have to try hard to convince me. I reckoned I could meet with the scouts and still make it in time to talk to Tyler-Anne before she left, then see her off.” Trembling all over, he forced his voice to steady. “The meeting ran long. Tyler-Anne missed her flight waiting for me, and when I still didn’t show, she accepted an open standby seat on the next plane.” He swallowed so hard it hurt. “Her—her plane exploded over the Gulf.”

Mia jumped up and wrapped her arms around him, leaned against his back. “Oh, Dallas. A bomb?”

“Yeah. The news media speculated it had something to do with rival drug cartels. And if I hadn’t been so goddamned selfish, so caught-up in myself, if I’d taken the time—she wouldn’t have been on that flight.” His throat felt too tight to speak. “God, there wasn’t even enough left of her to bury.”

“I’m sorry.” She hugged him harder. “I’m so sorry.”

Dallas turned in her arms and tilted his head to show her the ruby stud in his ear. “This belonged to my great-great grandmother and was supposed to be passed down to Tyler-Anne. On the day of the funeral, I stabbed the earring through my ear to remind me of my failure. And vowed to Tyler-Anne that I wouldn’t rest until I’d brought her killers to justice. I got both pro ball offers, but I went into law enforcement instead. Later, when I started digging, the Montoya Cartel kept popping up in relation to the bombing. So when I finished my training, I went after him.”

Warm, tender hands cupped his face. “And you’ve been torturing yourself over this for almost ten years. What happened to Tyler-Anne wasn’t your fault.”

“The hell it wasn’t.”

“You were what, twenty-one years old? You’d shouldered a man’s responsibility since age ten, and you finally saw a chance to achieve your dream. Give yourself a break.”

“I fucked up,” he ground out, his voice as raw as his emotions. “And my mistake cost my baby sister her life.”

“You should take off that cape before it chokes you to death, Superman,” she said gently. “The man who sold Tyler-Anne the drugs, the bomber who planted the device on that plane, and Soledad … who issued the orders to do so … they’re at fault. Not you.” She gave him a sweet smile. “We share a lot in common. You know better than anyone that I understand about needing to feel in control. But face it, McQuade, as much as we’d like to, neither you nor I can control everything.” She gripped his shoulders, shook him gently. “And you brought the Montoyas and Graysons to justice, you brought down their entire organization. You kept your promise to your sister.”

Emotions blindsided him, made his head reel. Mia wasn’t condemning him. Far from it, she was backing him—a hundred percent.

“I need to tell you something.” Mia stroked his hair. “After growing up being abused by the Colonel, I was so full of anger and pain. I thought I must have done something really bad to make my father hate me so much, to make him hurt me. I thought I didn’t deserve anything good, either.” She touched his cheek. “I didn’t realize differently until you came along. You taught me how to trust again. Taught me that needing someone, leaning on someone doesn’t make you weak.
You
did that for me. You’re a wonderful, honorable, loyal man and you deserve to be happy.”

She drew him close and held him, her heart racing as fast as his own. “Dallas, you’re holding onto anger and guilt because if you let go of that, you have to face your loss and acknowledge your grief. Feeling angry and guilty is so much easier than giving into the pain. Been there, done that, didn’t cry for over twenty years.”

His chest constricted on a surge of agony. Battling for composure, he crushed her to him.

Mia continued, gentle but relentless. “It’s okay to hurt, Dallas. You helped raise your sister from a baby. Losing her was like losing your own child. Let yourself grieve. Then you can open your heart to healing. The bravest thing you can do now is forgive yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can,” he whispered shakily.

She hugged him tight. “What would your sister want for you? If the situation were reversed, and she was here instead of you, would you let her accuse herself, bear the blame?”

Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. “Of course not. I—I’d want her to let go and move on.”

“Then consider your debt paid,” she whispered. “I’m sure Tyler-Anne does.”

A rush of mercy filled his heart, spilled over. Scalding moisture stung his eyes. He wrenched out of Mia’s grasp and whirled, gripping the window frame. Violent shudders wracked him as he finally stopped evading it and allowed the pain to hit him … to break him open.

Mia pressed her cheek to his back, cradling him in forgiveness and compassion. Her hot, wet tears soaked through his shirt, offering benediction. “It’s okay, Dallas. You’re safe with me.”

Teeth gritted, he submitted to the full extent of his pain. Surrendered completely, body shaking, an acid river of sorrow burning through him. Finally, when he couldn’t bear it any longer, he threw back his head and let out the roars of anguish.

Release crashed over him, sweeping away the heavy burden he’d carried so long. Relief spun him in dizzy circles, making him weightlessness, weakening his knees. He staggered, and Mia’s arms tightened.

He fought for balance. “Let me loose. I’m too heavy for you to hold up, darlin’.”

Her grasp tightened even more. “God, I love you, cowboy. Every stubborn, ultra-responsible, overprotective cell in your body.”

His heart crashed into his ribs, tried to pound out of his chest.
Mia loved him
. This impossible, incredible, wonderful woman loved him.

He turned to look at her. Knowing Mia’s history, he marveled at the courage and strength it had taken for her to admit it. To bare her soul, naked and vulnerable to him. To trustingly hand him her heart. With all the betrayals in her past, what she’d just done was braver than when she’d bared her body to him. Braver than facing down Paul and Harper and their guns.

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