Live for You (3 page)

Barely twenty-four hours
after my escape, they had tracked me to Nana’s house. She had
assured them I was safe and welcome to stay as long as I needed.
That seemed to calm them down, but it hasn’t stopped them from
calling at least once a day—every day—since then to check up on
me.

In some ways I’m glad they
found me so soon, because I’m not a bitch who wants to hurt them. I
love my parents…I just can’t deal with their happiness right
now.

Maybe ever.

I can barely concentrate on
the conversation taking place right beside me. My hands begin to
shake and I take a step back, shoving my hands behind my back,
linking them tightly together.

Cole gives me this look,
like I’ve just insulted him by moving. But it’s better that way. No
matter how handsome he is, even with his bedhead, morning stubble
and god-awful yet cute pickup lines, I don’t have time to even
contemplate a relationship of any kind with anyone.

Forget get the time: I
don’t have enough pieces of me left to throw away on some
boy.

Cole rubs his sister’s head
again, trying to do something with all those wild curls. The
gesture is so sweet that I melt a little. Who wouldn’t? He offers
to take the grocery bag from Nana and I’m pretty sure she melts,
too.

With a friendly smile, he
takes the bag from Nana and crooks his arm. “Ma’am?” Blushing like
a teenager, my sixty-five year old grandmother places her fingers
on his elbow.

I smash my lips together,
annoyed as all get out, but what am I going to say? Quit being so
polite?

Oh yeah, this guy has it
all down pat. Maybe a point in Nana’s book, but not in mine. I’ve
been with the perfect guy. The guy that knew all the right things
to say and do to impress me and my parents.

Underneath it all, he was a
snake and a liar and a cheat. He screwed anything with boobs. Like
my best friend, Callie, for example. It hadn’t bothered him to
destroy my relationship with her or with him. Jax hadn’t even
bothered to visit me in the hospital after the wreck.

“
A portion of the
windshield was embedded in her abdomen,” the doctor calmly informs
my parents, while I lay in the hospital bed, drifting from
conscious to unconscious thoughts. “The first responders called it
a freak accident. Frankly she’s lucky to be alive.”

“
Not everyone was lucky,”
I whisper, my words hoarse and my throat raw. But I can’t tell them
the truth. I can’t tell them who else was in the car.

I trail after Nana, Cole
and Kelly, my thoughts slowing my pace. The little girl turns and
skips to me, lacing her fingers through mine. Automatically, I
smile at her. She chatters on about everything as we walk, talking
a mile a minute about her brothers, school and her
Barbies.

But then I notice
something’s missing. Not once has Kelly mentioned her mom or dad,
just her brothers. We stop by Nana’s truck. Cole loads the bag of
groceries into the back.

Finally, I ask, “Do you
think your parents would want to come eat with us, too?”

Kelly blinks up at me, “My
momma’s not home.”

“
Where is she?”

The little girl looks to
her brother, then back at me again. She wiggles one foot on the
asphalt. “I don’t know.”

I frown. “Why
not?”

“
I don’t know,” she
whispers.

Something’s not right, so I
press on. “Won’t she be worried if you don’t call
first?”

“
I don’t know.” Kelly’s
brown eyes fill with tears and her bottom lip quivers.

Trying to keep those tears
at bay, I ask, “Then again, she probably won’t mind, since Cole
will be with you, right?”

“
I don’t know,” she says
again, ending on a wail.

Crap, crap, crap. I made it
worse. Squatting in front of Kelly, I hug her. My hands feel
awkward as I pat her little back. “I’m sorry, honey. That was
really rude of me.”

“
Yeah, it was.” Cole grabs
his sister, swinging her up in his arms. She buries her face in his
neck. He narrows his eyes at me, then looks at my grandmother and
says, “Sorry, but we won’t be joining y’all for breakfast. Thanks
anyway, Miss Violet.”

“
I’m really sorry,” I say,
but it’s too late. He heads in the opposite direction, consoling
his sister with talk about Bo’Jangles.

Nana’s hand comes to rest
on my shoulder as Cole’s black Jeep speeds away. “I think your
month of solitude has made you forget how to talk to people,
Rae
.”

The emphasis she places on
my name makes me laugh nervously. “Yeah. So, I’m not asking you to
lie for me, but I need more time,” I confess. “If any reporters
figure out I’m here, then—” I swallow, unable to finish. Honestly,
I don’t know what I’d do if that happened. “Please, Nana…I’m not
ready to go back to my old life, not yet. Just call me Rae while
I’m here.”

One gray brow rises. “Let
me think on it.”

Sighing, I climb in the
truck and put on my seatbelt. It’s a better reply than I thought
I’d get. She could have flat out refused.

Nana joins me and pretty
soon we’re on Highway twenty-five, heading back to my sanctuary.
“Supposed to rain this evening.”

Okay, so I wasn’t expecting
her to talk about the weather, but that’s another thing I love
about her. She isn’t one to dwell on mistakes. She’s also not one
to gossip. No finding out more information about the Morgans from
that source. “That’ll be good for your fall garden.”

She nods. “Suppose I’ll get
my baking done this morning.”

I glance over at her, my
lips twisting a little. She’s so transparent. “Suppose I’ll be
delivering a cake to the Morgans this afternoon.”

“
Why,
Violet Rae
, that’s a fine idea,” she
says, as if she hadn’t orchestrated the entire thing.

“
Violet Rae,
huh?”

“
This way we both get what
we want.” A glimmer of a smile curves her lips.

And I’m fine with her
compromise. Besides, I need to apologize to Kelly, like a real
apology, not just words hastily thrown together. As for her
brother…my heart speeds up, beating like an eight-o-eight drum—oh
crap, I want to see him again.

This can’t be
good.

***

Later that afternoon, I’m
curled up on the couch, my head in Nana’s lap as she reads her
Bible and lightly rubs my head.

The cakes are cooling on
the counter. Her house smells so good it should be a Yankee Candle
scent.

She pauses in her reading
and I say, “Do you like my new look?” What I really mean is does
she still like me? Just last week, I confessed everything to her.
Well, almost everything. I had to. The burden had become too great
for me to bear alone. She hadn’t said a word at first. Just looked
at me, her eyes full of sorrow, then opened her arms. I don’t
remember how long she hugged me, only that the tears on my face had
dried by the time I pulled away.

“
I think it’s sassy.” She
sets her Bible on the end table. “But I don’t think that’s what
you’re really wanting to know.”

And she knows me to well. I
sit up, swallowing hard. “Do you think I’m a bad
person?”

“
We’re all sinners, Violet
Rae. All the same in God’s eyes. Unworthy of forgiveness but He
gives it to us anyway when we ask, because he loves us. And I’m
thankful, because boy, do I need it. Like this morning when I
sliced my finger open.”

I don’t think
exclaiming
Gosh Almighty
when you accidentally cut yourself is something
that anyone needs forgiveness for, but I love her even more for
saying we’re alike in that regard. She’s always been this way, no
nonsense and forthright in her beliefs. But it doesn’t ease my
aching heart.

“
I know, but do
you
still love
me?”

“
Of course I do. Even when
I don’t agree or understand half of what you’re talking about most
of the time,” she says and I smile. “I’ll always love
you.”

I lay back down again, my
eyes closing. “Love you, too.”

“
Have you told your
parents?”she asks and my eyes snap open.

“
No.” They’ve only been
told the sketchiest of details.

“
Kimberly has to be
missing you.”

“
She’s too wrapped up in
baby stuff to miss me.”

“
Spoken like a truly
spoiled only child.”

If only that were true.
Yes, I’m spoiled, but it’s not why I don’t want to be around my
mother. Not even Nana knows the second half of why I don’t. And if
she wants to put it off on being an only child for twenty
years…Fine with me. I can deal with being called
spoiled.

But I can’t deal with look
of pity that would take residence on her face.

“
Can you read that passage
from Psalms, the one King David wrote about finding peace in dark
times?” I ask, my eyes and mouth shutting before I confess
all
my secrets to
her.

I hear the rustle of pages,
her throat clearing and she begins to read. Tears escape the
corners of my eyes, but I don’t bother wiping them away.

Chapter Four

Violet

I have read about a
person’s tongue being glued to the roof of their mouth before, only
I hadn’t known it was directly related to Cole Morgan answering the
door wearing nothing but a towel around his lean hips.

His black hair, damp from
the shower, curls over his ears. Lashes at jealousy inducing length
frame eyes a color that can only be called Photoshop blue. Who in
the world has eyes that color, besides computer generated
images?

I should know. My own image
has been altered countless time for magazine covers. A little
skinnier on this one, taller on another, or bustier on yet
another.

Cole leans against the door
frame, crossing muscular arms over an equally muscular chest,
jolting me from my thoughts. Tattoos run down each side of his
tight abs, but my vision has suddenly blurred so badly that I can’t
begin to make them out.

On the bright side, I
haven’t dropped the apology cake.
Yet.

One of us should speak, but
that darn tongue of mine is content stay right where it is. I
swallow several times before croaking, “Is Kelly home?”

“
Why—need to ask her about
what happened to her hamster last year?” He uncrosses an arm and
taps his chin, glaring all the while. “Or better, yet, why don’t
you mention her goldfish, Ernie? That’s bound to bring back great
memories. While you’re at it, tell her Santa, the Easter Bunny and
the Tooth Fairy aren’t real either.”

This is harsher than I
expected, but I made his sister cry. If the roles were reversed and
Kelly was my sister, the front door would have remained firmly
shut. If I had a baby sister, I’d—

“
Won’t this be fun, Vi?
Think of it, a baby brother or sister that will adore you,” I hear
my momma say, her voice sing-songy like an elementary school
teacher’s.

My stomach collapses, like
I’ve been punched. Pain spreads out in great waves, paralyzing
everything but my voice. “You’re pregnant? But
you’re…Dad’s…
old
.”

Her beautiful face, all
glowing, falls. “Don’t be ugly, Violet.”

“
The truth might be ugly,
but it’s still the truth,” I snap.

She blinks at me, hand
rising to her throat to grasp the string of pearls she always
wears. Then she runs from the room.

I want to go after her,
apologize, but the bitter part of me, the destroyed part of me
keeps my feet frozen to the kitchen floor.

A hand waves in front of my
face and I blink. “Damn, but you are one strange girl,” Cole says,
backing away and shutting the door. “Later.”

At the last minute, I turn
sideways and wedge my shoulder against the wood. “Wait. The cake—”
I almost throw it at him. “—I made it for y’all. It’s my apology.”
He has to take this cake. I need him to. My apology has to
count.

His forehead wrinkles,
making him all sorts of adorable and sexy. “You apologize with
food?”

“
Doesn’t everyone?” I
smile, surprised to find that it actually feels good and sincere.
The girl I used to be loved to smile, for fans
and
for cameras. She never met a
stranger. And people loved to smile back.

Cole is no exception.
“Everyone should.” He steps back, gesturing for me to come inside.
“Put the cake on the table. Kelly’s at a birthday party, over at
the Jump and Shout. Parker’s with her, just in case inquiring minds
want to know.”

The Morgan house is a lot
like Nana’s on the outside, plain white siding with black shutters.
Apparently, the builder had liked this road and built the same
floor plan six times over.

“
I really don’t think I
should. I mean, you’re not dressed for company.” Heat creeps up my
neck as his blue eyes pierce me. My response is ridiculous; I’ve
been on world tours before and have seen men and women in various
stages of undress.