The Girl of Sand & Fog (39 page)

“You planned every part of the last two days and
you were pretty sure you were going to get your way.”

His smile is roguish and sweetly charming at
once. “Not sure. Hopeful.”

I try not to smile back at his self-satisfied
grin. “I bet you think you’ve got me all trained and ready to do exactly what
you want me to, Bobby Rowan.”

“You don’t train your Fembot, Kaley. You let her
go, if that’s what she needs, and hope she comes back to you.”

I start to say, “I’m not a Fembot,” but Bobby
turns me beneath him on the mattress, his kiss traps the words inside me, and I
realize it’s better his way.

Part Three

“Kaley”

CHAPTER 29

I
wake with a start, breathing heavily. Crap, it was only a dream. A cold blast
of reality hits me. I’m in Australia and my life is still a mess.

I try to focus my thoughts. My head feels heavy.
I can’t lift it. I’m clammy and weak. God, I feel awful. Why do I feel awful?

I open my eyes.

Oh shit.

This doesn’t look like my room.

Where am I?

I sit up. My eyes widen. Graham Carson is
stretched out asleep on the small sofa in the bedroom. Oh no, what did I do
last night? I lift the blanket. My clothes are gone, everything but my panties
and bra. He’s still wearing his black bodyguard attire from the night before.

Why am I half-dressed and he’s still fully
clothed?

I look at the clock. Twelve noon. My insides turn
over and then my heart starts to race frantically. Twelve freaking noon. There
is no way I can sneak into the penthouse without my dad knowing I slipped out
last night.

Fudge.

I quietly climb from the bed and grab my clothes
from the chair. The stench makes my nose crinkle. There’s vomit on my dress. My
face scrunches up as a hazy picture of throwing up on Graham rises in my
memory. These clothes are gross. I can’t wear them.

I search the room. There. A t-shirt lying across
a suitcase. I pick it up. Sniff. Clean. Definitely better than my dress. I pull
it on and the hem hangs mid-thigh level. Thank God, Graham is taller than I am
and a beast of a man or this would be a no bueno solution.

I make a fast check of my bodyguard. Good, he’s
still asleep. I step toward the door.

“Stop.”

I freeze.

Fuck.

I turn.

He’s wide awake from dead asleep, standing alert
and ready in front of the couch he was just snoozing on and, damn, I don’t know
how I woke him.

I stare up at him, wide-eyed. “I’m just going
back to my room. I promise. You don’t need to go with me.”

He smooths his hair with a hand. “Yes, Kaley, I
do. It’s my job. You’re never alone outside of your hotel room.”

I groan.

“Can’t you see that it would be better for you if
you don’t come with me? By the way, who gave you permission to undress me?”

He rolls his eyes. “Your clothes were damp. They
smelled. I didn’t want you smelling up my sheets. And that’s why I left the
shirt lying across my bag for you to find this morning.”

I blush. “You had no right to take off my
clothes—”

“I didn’t look, if that’s what’s bugging you.” He
grins. “Not that you are not beautiful, but really, you don’t do anything for
me.”

My cheeks warm even more.

Well, that was rude.

His gaze shifts from me in a way that says he’s
done with this discussion. He tucks in his shirt and grabs his room key and
cell from a table.

He gestures with an arm. “Come on. I’ll escort
you back to your room.”

We go into the hallway and then the elevator. My
body nervously bounces against the wall as I wait for him to insert the key and
hit ‘P’.

The doors close.

I study him.

I frown. “Aren’t you worried about showing up in
the middle of the day with me dressed like this?”

He smiles. “Not in the least.”

It sounds like he means it.

I arch a brow. “Well, you should be. I never know
what my dad is going to do these days. Extreme about everything like he’s
trying to make up in these four months having not been there. So ridiculous.
I’m eighteen. I don’t need a dad or jailor.”

Graham shakes his head. “From where I’m standing
you need both.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs.

I stare at him expectantly. “No, I’m not going
anywhere until you explain that last comment.”

His gaze softens in a way that puts me on notice
that I’m not going to like this. “You’re a smart girl, but you’re hurting and
really confused right now. That makes you a danger to yourself. I know it and
so does your dad and so does every guy you meet. An easy mark for any asshole
on the prowl. Lots of guys dream of finding a girl who looks like you with a
giant chip on her shoulder. That’s why we’re both very protective with you.
Neither of us wants anything to happen to you. Your dad because he loves you.
Me because I like you.”

I flush. That was way harsh—
and sweet
.
Harsh and sweet in a way that makes it impossible to get angry at him or ignore
that his insights are damn near perfect every time.

“If you like me, how come seeing me nude doesn’t
do anything for you?” I ask flippantly to cover my emotional unsteadiness.

His brows hitch up. “I didn’t see you nude. Not
completely.” The dimples appear in his cheeks. “Besides, your dad picked me to
head your security for a reason.”

Really? Interesting. I can’t imagine what unique
criteria would appeal to Alan in a bodyguard.

“And what would that be?”

He leans in to me and brushes my cheek with a thumb.
“You have the worst instincts of any girl I’ve ever known. The way you flirt
with me is cute and flattering. But you should stop it, since it’s something we
both don’t want. You’re still hung up on your boyfriend. And I was selected to
head your security detail for the sole reason that I’m gay.”

Oh shit.

I do have the worst instincts of any girl on the
planet. And jeez, can my dad be any more obvious in what he thinks about me
than with this?

I’m drowning in a tidal wave of embarrassment.

Graham shakes his head. “You’ve got to love how
crazy the world is at times. I never thought I’d live to see the day when Alan
Manzone wasn’t every father’s worst nightmare, but instead the number one
father from hell. Still, I don’t hold anything against him. It’s what I’d do if
I had a daughter as beautiful as you.”

My entire face burns. “God, this so humiliating.”

He makes a slight, sympathetic pout. “No, it’s
not. It’s nice. Like I’ve already said, you don’t know how lucky you are. A lot
of girls wish they had a father like yours. He cares. He’s here. He wants the
best for you, Kaley. Whatever happened in the past is past. Meet him halfway.
You won’t regret it. Give the guy a break. He’s trying.”

The metal doors open.

Graham motions for me to step out and I head toward
the suite, wait as he opens it with his key card, and then step in.

Empty.

Not what I expected.

Where is everyone?

I turn toward Graham. “You can cut out. I can
take it from here.”

Graham nods. “Think about what I said.”

“I will. Or at least I’ll try to.”

He shakes his head at me.

I lift my brows. “I said I’d try to. OK?” I
smile. “Thanks for being such a cool guy last night. I’m pretty sure none of
what went down in your room was in your job description when you were hired.”

He grins with full dimples showing. “Beautiful
girls getting into trouble and vomiting into trashcans. Of course it was. I’m
security for a hard rock band.”

I laugh and watch him leave the room.

Once the door closes behind him, I drop my things
on a chair and try to figure out where everyone is. I expected my dad to be
waiting, ready to pounce on me. But nope.

Maybe he doesn’t know I’ve been gone.

Maybe he’s still out doing whatever it was he
went to do last night—I cut off that thought since the endless possibilities of
why he went MIA yesterday are not things I’m close to being ready to deal with.

I’m heading toward my bedroom when I hear voices
from the terrace. The doors are open and a light breeze is rustling the
curtains…
and damn, is that my dad’s laughter I hear?

My emotions grow more jumbled and my anger
spikes.

He’s here so he must know I was gone all night.

He didn’t even look for me.

He doesn’t care, no matter what Graham says.

More laughter. More voices from the balcony. My
brothers and sister. Everyone sounds so freaking happy. It’s like they had a
fucking party because I wasn’t here.

Nope, definitely
not
what I expected.

I cross the room and pull back the drape. My gaze
moves swiftly around the patio—Khloe! My dad is holding Khloe. My mom is
sitting close next to him, smiling. My brothers and sister are huddled around
Lourdes.

Graham’s words flitter through my memory.
I
can’t tell you where he is, but he’s definitely not doing anything you should
blame yourself for. Your family is here and together. That’s more than most
families are.
Graham knew my mom had flown to Australia—that my dad
disappeared to be with her—and he didn’t tell me.

A sense of betrayal rockets through me, but it’s
quickly banked by relief.
If my mom is here
…

I stare. My family is together, it’s like none of
the messed-up shit happened, and they look happy. What the fuck happened here
last night?

It all looks so normal—well, our version of
normal, like it used to before I smashed up my parents’ universe.

Maybe my parents are going to be OK. Maybe
someday they will forgive me. Maybe things will get better between me and my
dad eventually.

I lean my cheek against the cool metal doorframe
and watch them, battling back the fast rising emotion inside me.

Maybe it’s all going to be OK.

“Kaley!”

I snap out of my fog to find my mom staring at
me.

My cheeks burn.

Crap, why did I let them catch me wearing
Graham’s t-shirt? Good one, Kaley.

Damn.

“Mom.”

I go out onto the terrace, avoiding my dad’s
gaze, and sink down close to my mom. Chrissie takes me in a big, sloppy hug.
She kisses my cheek and then pulls back, smiling at me.

“I missed you, baby girl.”

“I missed you, too, Mom. Are you staying or are
you going back home?”

She makes a silly face at me. “Staying until we
all can go home at the end of the tour together. I hope that’s all right with
you.”

“Better than all right.”

I curl into her, letting her hold me. It feels
really good to be held by my mother. We’ve been angry with each other too long.
I don’t know how she does it. The anger never stays inside her. It melts away,
and then we’re all good again.

I feel my dad watching me. I look over my
shoulder at him. Black eyes lock on me. My scalp prickles and my body grows
warm. Shit. Mom might be cheerfully rolling with everything today, but he’s not
going to.

He’s angry.

I turn on the chair to face him directly. Better
to get this over with quickly.

“About last night—”

“Consider it your one mulligan,” he interrupts.
“Don’t do it again. Mrs. Barton was in a panic before Graham texted her that
you were all right.”

My cheeks burn. “I’m sorry—”

The words clog in my throat.

The tears give way.

Fuck, not now, not when he can see.

His expression changes into something intense. He
quickly hands Khloe to my mom and swivels around to face me. “Why are you
crying, Kaley? What’s wrong? Did something happen last night? Graham said
everything was fine with you.”

“Nothing happened,” I say quickly.

“Then why are you crying?”

I stare up at him. Snippets of my dream flash in
my head. A strange feeling of déjà vu floods me.

“I’m just really glad Mom’s here.”

Fuck, those aren’t the words I want to say. When
I started to say
I’m sorry
earlier it all surged upward in me, that I
haven’t apologized, not once, for all the rotten things I’ve done to him. 

I can’t meet his gaze any longer. I cover my face
with my hands. The words push out of me.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry about what I did. The
website. The videos. Your house. Even taking off last night. I wish I could
take it back, but I can’t. Just don’t hate me, OK? I can’t survive that. I
don’t want you to hate me. I’m sorry.”

I stare at him, pleading with my eyes.

He looks confused and overwhelmed.

He brushes the hair back from my face and meets
my gaze directly. “I could never hate you, Kaley. I have never hated you. You
are my daughter. I love you. Nothing is ever going to change that. How could
you think I could ever hate you?”

“Because I’m a terrible person. I hurt you. I
hurt Mom. I hurt everyone.”

To my shock, he pulls me into his chest, holding
me in a tight circle of his arms. His muscles quiver and I feel light kisses
touched across my curls.