Uncharted (Unexpected Book 3) (31 page)

The elevator doors slide open, I enter the apartment, get dressed and grab Maeve. We rush to the hospital together and I try to forget all about Jacob Decker.

Pria didn’t let me drive her to Sunny Hill, but I followed them, and after groveling, she begrudgingly forgave me. I know I don’t deserve Pria. I can’t let her go, either, she’s… my Twinkle. Right after settling things with her, I dealt with the hospice’s paperwork. She only wanted to be by her father’s side. Pria sat on the hard plastic chair, hunched over the bed as she held her dad’s hand from the moment we arrived until…

In a matter of hours, Fred went from being in critical condition to leaving his two daughters. It happened right after Pria said, “I love you, Daddy. It’s time for you to go be with Mom. Mae and I can manage.”

Pria couldn’t contain her tears. As her heart tore with the departure of her father, mine panged.

The monitors went flat, the nurses and doctors stormed inside the room, and they called his TOD. Mason’s assistant helped us with the phone calls to family, neighbors, and friends. It’s been a week since he died and Pria has tried to remain strong for her sister. Only at night when Maeve isn’t around will she let herself cry and crumble because her daddy is gone. I’ve held her for hours until she’s fallen asleep, recounting the endless moments with Fred.

The cemetery is packed with cars and mourners that came to pay their respects to Mr. Walker and his daughters. Maeve is already entertaining the crowd, Matthew next to her. He’s been helping me with her today. I don’t want Pria close to her sister, who is talking about how her funeral should be when she dies.
Does she not realize how much this is hurting Pria?

“Ready?” I ask, turning off the ignition of my car. She gives me a light nod. “Wait, let me get you.”

As we walk toward the site where they’d bury Fred, my gut clenches. I shouldn’t be here, not with Pria. We’re close to Norah’s grave. My heart splits between the promises I made to Norah and… Pria.

“Are you going to be okay?” I pat her hand, working my way to release her and maybe leave her with my family.

“Yes, as long as you’re with me.” Pria squeezes my hand the moment I’m about to release her, so I don’t. Those words melt my determination. I hold on tighter with that hand while pressing the diamond stud with the other. The promises weigh heavy on my back. My parents taught me to be loyal, and I’m hating myself for everything. Keeping Pria at arm’s length, and feeling guilty for not keeping my word to Norah. My head is close to exploding, overwhelmed by these ambiguous emotions. “I don’t want to face this alone.”

Ten years ago I made a different promise. No matter where I was, I’d always be with her, Pria. I’ll hold onto that one for today.

“I’m always with you. Always,” I murmur close to her ear.

As we approach the casket that waits to be lowered into the ground, I direct us to the line of chairs where Matthew and Maeve already sit.

As everyone congregates, the priest starts his speech. Pria and Mae talk in hushed tones.

“You okay, Twinkle?” I murmur, and she nods.

“That’s the exact same speech he said when Mom died two years ago.” She clears her tears. “Mae just told me to make sure we don’t use the same priest when she dies.”

Chris taps my arm, raises an eyebrow and I nod my head. My parents sit next to me, AJ and Mason on the other side, next to Matthew. The entire family has adopted the Walker girls. My guess is that everyone will be heartbroken when Pria leaves town to search for herself. A couple of days ago, I promised Mae that I wouldn’t let Pria stay. Not for her sister or for me. Pria has a plan and we will help her reach her dreams, her goals, or whatever it is that this trip means to her.

“Fred will forever be remembered by his daughters,” the priest continues. “Maeve and Cypriana, know that he’s with God and Glenda now. Both your parents will look over you.”

The priest tilts his head toward the table where the white carnations rest, and I help Pria stand. We both walk toward the table, grab a flower, and place it on top of the casket. Matthew and Mae repeat the process and so does the rest of the congregation. The priest says the last words and blesses the coffin. He turns around and leaves the premises, heading toward the sidewalk where the cars are parked. Pria stands and walks toward her father’s casket.

“Goodbye, Daddy. I’m going to miss you.” She kisses the tip of her fingers and touches it. “Thank you for loving me.”

Pria lifts her gaze and grants me her first smile. “Thank you for being with me.”

“Ready for the reception?” She nods, and we walk side-by-side holding hands. Pria seems to be walking with purpose now, with her chin up, and the strength only she can gather.

Before we can jump into the car, a couple stop her and hug her. Then a few others join her, and in only seconds, she’s doing what Pria does best—entertaining an audience without a sign of grief. Her heart mourns, her mind cries, but she’s being strong for others, for Mae, and for herself. My admiration for her increases.
Is that what first attracted me to her?
It was that combined with her love for her family, and that innocent smile. Those mesmerizing eyes that sparkle with a different light as her emotions change. It only took minutes for her to capture my soul. Days to conquer my heart and… I think she still possesses them. A simple thought finally breaks through the debris and the darkness my past created. Maybe I never stopped loving Pria Walker. However, my heart shrinks as I’m reminded of the fact that she’s leaving. That I promised Mae I’d do everything in my power to make sure she completes her desired journey to see the world.

Lightening illuminates the dark room. His clear blue eyes stare in panic, his jaw set, and his disgusted, scrunched-up face fumigates the flocks of fluttery butterflies that concentrated inside me only seconds ago as his big hands seared my skin with their sizzling touch.

They say the most important details of your life play through your mind when you’re dying. I’m not dying, but images of the past two years and some months flash—and they have been important. My sister, Robbie, Mom, Dad, and him. This beautiful, complicated, loyal man who, along with his family, claimed part of my heart and filled it with love and care.

“What the fuck?” His raucous voice echoes through the empty room. “Why were you trying to do that? We have an agreement, a deal.”

“Because in my experience kissing is perfectly normal while you’re making love,” I
don’t
say out loud.

“You said that whatever I needed. Tonight I only need a kiss.” His tall frame straightens, and his long legs take a couple of steps backward.

After the past week, I became certain we had something. Jacob stayed with me almost all the time since the moment I received the call from the senior center. As we arrived from the reception, he told me that he wanted to make it better, to make me forget about today. An illusion. He only wanted sex. He didn’t want me. He still doesn’t want me.

I should kick him out. There’s no point in me holding on to him any longer. As a matter of fact, this relationship feels wrong.

“That doesn’t give you the right to just kiss me,” Jacob protests. That soothing voice he used during the funeral is gone. “We have limits. Kissing goes beyond what I can offer.”

Our lips barely touched
. I reserve those words. Because in fact, I don’t remember them making contact. He pushed me before I could feel them.

The blue flames in his eyes burn my insides, but not in a hot and bothered way. That heat that reduces me to liquid fire that only burns when he orders it.

“I can’t anymore, Jacob.” I straighten my spine. “Not with your conditions. Sex between you and me is over.”

He focuses his gaze on me. “That’s all I can ever offer,” he answers in a guttural voice. A voice I haven’t heard from him since we first met. “You needed the comfort and I thought—”

The flashes from the storm outside illuminate the diamond stud he wears. The one he touches each time he’s losing control. The same I tried to touch once and he lost his temper. The sound of the thunder resonates through the windows, making me jolt. I’m reminded that he’s out of reach. These past days, I settled for the illusion of us, another week of fantasy. But I’m not seventeen anymore. There’s a huge storm brewing outside, similar to the one taking over my system.

“It’d be best if you leave.” I walk through the dark living room and open the main door. “Take your shit and don’t come back.”

“Pria?” I don’t understand why he says my name as if begging me not to take him off of life support or something. Nor do I get why his eyes suddenly carry confusion.

“It’s ANA,” I repeat loudly as my body vibrates with anger. “Get the hell out, now.”

He takes off his suit jacket, his tie, and marches toward where I stand.

“You’re not kicking me out. Let’s talk.” His slumped shoulders and boyish features make a small part of me want to listen to him. “We’re friends, best friends.”

I stare at my feet, then lift my head and speak. “If we were friends, you’d explain to me why is it that every time we’re together you regret even speaking to me.”

He takes my hand, pulling me outside the house. “Not here.” We leave the house, lock it, and climb into his car.

He brings me to the third floor of his penthouse; the glass room. Our big confessions always happened under the stars. Tonight doesn’t seem to be any exception. I’m here to find out why I can’t kiss him, why he carries so much guilt and grief.

“That Monday when you left after our week, Matthew was in a car accident.” I catch my breath, because that’s not at all what I expected him to say. “It coincided with a visit from my parents. They found out about my week playing hooky.”

“Pops has OCD. Dad, who loves his husband dearly, cleaned the apartment while we sorted out Matthew’s accident and…well, not one scrap of paper survived his cleaning rampage.” Jacob drops his gaze.

He had already told me that—about Jacob accidentally losing my number. I can’t fathom how that one event has anything to do with the jerk he became.

“I had no idea how to reach you, Twinkle, I…I had fallen for you so hard and I wanted to find you. Two weeks later, I took my father’s motorcycle and went out to look for you.” I cross my arms and listen to him. His slumped shoulders and haunted eyes create a knot in my stomach. His clear blue eyes are filled with such hurt, my heart rips. “I didn’t see the car coming,” his quiet voice continues, his gaze shifting downward. “I lost control of the bike. My helmet saved my life, but it didn’t do much for the driver and the passenger of the other car. I killed them. I broke my legs, an arm, and dislocated my testicles. The trauma was sorted out very early and both testicles are still intact. The doctor said I was fortunate to survive with both balls intact since they diagnosed it and surgically corrected it immediately. My dick, as you know, functions well. Unfortunately, the testicular torsion lead to infertility. My punishment for causing the deaths of two people is that I’ll never be able to have a family of my own. Gabrielle is never going to happen.”

The thundering sound from the outside makes the glass walls vibrate and my heart shatters because this guy is carrying the lives of two people on his back, and there’s not much I can say to help him with his self-punishment. Then there’s Gabrielle. He came up with a fake future the first time we met. His words come back to me.

“We’ll have a girl,”
he said with that cocky-boyish grin. His eyes sparkled as he ambitioned this future with me.
“With your twinkle eyes. We’ll name her Gabrielle.”