Wicked Reunion (Wicked White Series Book 2) (14 page)

THEN

LONDON

I
stare down at the address and study the numbers on the outside of the building. “Are you sure this is the place?” My eyes trail over the dilapidated wood siding and wonder how the bar remains open based on its outside appearance.

“Yes,” Wes says. “Look at all the cars in the parking lot. This was where the private investigator tracked him to. He said the band that Jared has been traveling with is playing here tonight.”

It’s hard to imagine Jared in here—not saying that he hasn’t done some shady shit lately. When I think of Jared, I picture him happy, smiling, and on the baseball field—the one place he loved. This is definitely a new lifestyle choice for him.

I take a deep breath and then release it through pursed lips. “We might as well go in there and see if we can find him. Remember to keep your cool. Our goal is to convince him to come back with us. Being hostile and losing your temper, no matter how much he’s made Julie cry—”

“And you,” Wes adds in. “Let’s not forget that.”

“And me,” I say in agreement. “We have to try to bring him out of whatever dark place he’s in.”

“I swear. I’ll be good. I won’t even say a word to him. I’ll let you do all the talking. How’s that?”

“That might be best.” I grab the handle on the passenger door and push it open. “Come on.”

We had to park in the very back of the lot in the grass. Seems like this is the place to be tonight, which in an odd way makes me proud. I always knew that Jared had a massive amount of talent, so it’s good that other people in the world are getting to experience just how musically gifted he is.

We’re nearly to the building when a door on a black Mustang flings open as we walk by, nearly hitting Wes.

“Whoa,” Wes says as he quickly jumps out of the way.

“Oh, sorry, man,” a voice from inside the car calls out, and it instantly halts me in my tracks. “Didn’t see you there.”

A very feminine giggle follows the voice. “You almost hit that guy.”

“I know.” The man laughs, and my blood runs cold.

My gaze flicks up to Wes, and his mouth drops open in shock. I turn to peek inside the car, but Wes grabs my shoulder and pulls me back. “Don’t. You don’t want to do that.”

I know he thinks he’s protecting me from what is inside that car, but I have to see it with my own two eyes. “I have to.”

“London—” Wes pleads as I twist out of his grasp and then bend down to look inside.

I stand there completely frozen, staring at the sight before me. Jared is sitting in the backseat with a blond woman straddling his lap. She has only a bra on, while the skirt she’s wearing is shoved up around her waist. She has no underwear on, and Jared’s pants are shoved down around his ankles.

I stand there watching, unable to look away even though the sight of this is absolutely tearing me up inside. Neither Jared nor the woman have any idea that I’m there—both completely oblivious that my heart is being smashed in my chest right now—because they are both completely hammered, which still doesn’t excuse Jared’s behavior.

Jared laughs, trying to help her put her top back on.

Seeing this sight before me drives home the fact that I need to move on, because obviously he has.

“You’ve got your head in the arm hole.” He yanks the shirt back off and then slides it back onto the woman.

She pulls it down, covering most of her torso. “You’re so smart.” She leans in and kisses him. “And sexy.” Another kiss. “And a good fuck.”

“That’s enough.” Wes’s voice wafts through my clouded brain just before he pulls me away from the car, but not fast enough to miss Jared’s eyes snapping in my direction. “Don’t do this to yourself, London. He’s not worth it. He’s a prick.”

Tears burn my eyes, and for the first time in my life, I no longer give a shit about Jared Kraft. I’m so angry that I’m sure in this moment I can walk away and never think about him ever again.

Jared’s voice ordering the woman off of him echoes around the empty parking lot, and I begin to shake. This is not the man who loved me. This is not the man who asked me to marry him and then gave me a ring—this is not the man I love.

Wes attempts to pull me back toward his car, but anger rages through me. The thought of storming over there and grabbing handfuls of Jared’s now-shaggy hair and dragging him out of the car crosses my mind, but I know that’s the absolute wrong thing to do. I need him to hurt—to feel the pain I’m feeling right now.

I stare down at the ring on my finger and hate that its sparkle is now gone.

The woman gets out of the car first, followed by Jared, who stares in our direction with a furrowed brow. “What in the hell are the two of you doing here?”

I open my mouth to fire back at him, but Wes turns me around and points me in the direction of his car again. “He’s drunk, London. Don’t get him started. We’ve seen how things go when he’s drunk and angry, and I won’t allow him to hurt you again—accident or not.”

We march toward Wes’s car, and all the while I fight the urge to run back and smack the shit out of Jared’s face.

“Don’t ever come near me again,” Jared yells across the parking lot, and I completely snap.

I twist out of Wes’s grip and run back toward Jared, yanking the ring off my finger in the process. “You are a selfish son of a bitch. We thought you were dead! You walk out on all of us with no note—no nothing—after what this family has been through. Your mother hired a private investigator to find out if you were still even alive.”

“You are not my family,” he growls.

His cold tone causes me to flinch.

“Who are you?”
I shake my head, completely floored. “I stood by you—told everyone that you were just going through something and that you would get your shit together and grow out of”—I motion up and down his body—“this. But now I can see that I was wrong. You truly don’t care about anyone but yourself. Here!” I throw the ring into his chest, and he catches it easily with one hand. “Maybe you can give this to her and tell her a bunch of lies, because I’m done. I never want to ever see you again.”

A grimace is the only reaction I get from Jared before he becomes a complete void. A normal person would show some kind of emotion in this situation, but he just stands there without any expression, like I’m annoying him and he can’t wait to be rid of me.

I turn on my heel, refusing to allow myself to cry in front of him. I will not break down in front of a man who obviously doesn’t care about my feelings.

A small part of me expects Jared to come to his senses and realize how much he’s hurt me and his family and chase after me and beg forgiveness for everything that he’s put us through. But he doesn’t. He allows both me and Wes to walk away, get into the car, and drive off, without any protest whatsoever.

I am so fucking done.

NOW

LONDON

I
love each and every child in my class, but I am truly grateful when Saturdays roll around for a little bit of a break.

I plop down on the sofa and grab the remote. On the weekends, I never go anywhere or do anything, so the DVR box and I have become besties. I glance up at the clock and notice it’s nearly five in the evening, and yet I’m still in my frog-print pajama bottoms and matching tank top, while my hair remains in the same messy bun I put it in this morning. No one will be seeing me, so it’s not like it matters.

I stir the chocolate syrup into my chocolate ice cream before I shove a big spoonful into my mouth. This is totally unhealthy, I know, but things have just been so shitty lately, I might as well enjoy something.

Who needs to be a size zero anyhow?

I fast-forward through another set of commercials during my
Vampire Diaries
binge-watch session as I anxiously wait to discover if Elena will finally make a move on Damon, the hot bad-boy brother. The second I hit “Play,” my doorbell rings, causing me to groan as I pause the show.

I set my bowl down on the coffee table, then shove myself up from the couch. The only person who could be at my door is Bud, Julie’s sweet delivery man. Poor old guy gets stuck bringing me yellow roses and candy every day, thanks to Wes’s over-the-top attempt to keep himself fresh in my mind.

I grab the hair inside the elastic band to tighten it down more so that I appear somewhat presentable. “Coming!”

I grab a couple bucks out of my wallet for a tip, then scuffle over to the door in my bare feet. I twist the knob and push open the door, and the person who’s on the other side stops me and steals my breath.

My mouth drops open, and I can’t do anything but stare. It’s like seeing a ghost—something you never in your life ever expected to see—and I just can’t look away. I resist the urge to reach down and pinch myself to make sure this moment is real.

Is this his idea of some twisted joke? I mean, there’s no way in hell that Jared Kraft is standing in my doorway with a dozen yellow roses after five years without a single word.

Shit like that only happens in movies, and my life for damn sure isn’t some glamorous fairy tale.

I stand there, staring like an idiot, while my brain tries to work out exactly what’s going on here. I furrow my brow. This has to be a fucking dream. No way this man has the nerve to just show up here like this—not after all this time.

I step back and take a long moment to study his face. He looks exactly the same as the last time I saw him, only his hair is longer—more shaggy and unkempt—the style I’ve seen him wear whenever I see pictures of him with his band, Wicked White. To prove to myself that this really is a dream, I reach down and bunch some skin up on my arm and then pinch with all my might.

“Ouch!” I yelp as I inspect the flesh my nails dug into.

My breath catches the moment I realize that the man who used to be my everything—the man who took off five years ago, leaving me and his family behind without so much as a good-bye or piss off—is standing on my porch.

When my eyes meet his, so many questions rage through my mind, but before I can open my mouth to ask a single one, anger begins to boil over inside me. How dare he just come waltzing into my life after all this time?

My body reacts of its own accord and my hand darts out to snatch the flowers out of his hand. His eyes grow wider when I slam them down onto my porch and then smack his face as hard as I can.

My hand instantly stings, but one hit just wasn’t enough to make him feel all the pain I felt these past years.

I draw back to hit him again, but he grabs my wrist, yanking my
body flush against his, which only further pisses me off. “Let go of me!”

“No,” he growls. “Not until you calm the fuck down.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” I fire back. “You deserve more than me smacking you in the face for leaving the way you did.”

Jared’s body stiffens. I’ve struck a nerve? Good. I hope so.

“I know I do.” He sighs. “If I let you go, do you promise that you’ll calm the fuck down so we can attempt to talk like two civilized people?”

I roll my eyes as I struggle to get out of his grasp. “A little late for talking now, don’t you think?”

There’s no way he can miss my pissy tone. I want him to know that I’m still angry with him after all this time. If he came here to apologize, I’m not going to make it easy on him.

“I fucked up, all right. I know that. It wasn’t my intention to just come waltzing back into your life unannounced. If you give me a chance to explain myself, maybe we can actually hold a conversation without fighting.” The muscles in his jaw tick beneath his skin as he blows a rush of air out through his nose. “Are you going to calm down or what?”

“I’m perfectly calm.” I jerk my hands so hard that I fly backward out of his grip and slam into the corner of the door frame, nearly knocking myself out.

Jared wraps his arms around my waist and then attempts to steady me. “Easy there. Are you okay?”

“I’m fi—Ouch!” Pain rushes through my head, and I realize I may have hit it a little harder than I initially thought.

He furrows his brow, and there’s a sadness in his blue eyes that I’ve never seen before. “I think you better sit down. Can I come in?”

I reach up and gingerly rub the spot on the back of my head that cracked against the doorjamb. I sigh and then wave him on in. “Follow me.”

The clock ticking away on my living room wall is the only sound in my otherwise-silent house. Every muscle stiffens as I sit on my couch and Jared takes the seat across from me.

I study his faded blue jeans and black T-shirt, and I’m quickly reminded that anything he wears looks like a million bucks on him. He looks the same, just a little older, and there are hints of tattoos poking out from beneath his shirtsleeves.

Why are asshole men always so beautiful?

Jared tilts his head, and his blue eyes bore into me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

That voice—the one I’ve only heard in my dreams over the past five years—is no longer just a dream. The man it belongs to sits mere inches away from me, and I can’t believe he’s actually here, in my living room.

I refuse to take my eyes off him in fear that he just might disappear. “What are you doing here?”

He fidgets in his seat, wiping his hands on the thighs of his jeans as he sits in the high-backed chair across from the couch. “I didn’t know this was your address, if that’s what you’re asking. I was doing deliveries for Mom.”

I furrow my brow. “So you came here by mistake? How’s that even possible when you haven’t kept in touch with anyone in years?”

“I’ve been calling Mom, but she’s the only one,” he answers simply. “I also asked her not to tell you or Wes that I’ve been calling.”

I should interrogate him on why he hadn’t bothered to call me—to say something, anything, and explain why he just ran out on me like he did.

Neither of us says anything to the other, and the minutes ticking away on the clock just add to the tension. I should say something, but I’m not even sure where to start.

“I should probably get going,” he says as he pushes up from his seat.

Desperation washes over me, and I know this may be my one and only shot to get some answers from Jared about things that have long haunted me.

“Wait. Please don’t go.” I bite my bottom lip, nervous that he’ll turn and leave and I’ll never get my answers—answers I’ve waited so long for. “Stay. Talk to me. Don’t you think I at least deserve an explanation? I want to know why you pushed me away like you did. Why you wouldn’t let me help you.”

Pain flickers across his face, and I understand that going back to that time in his life might be painful, but it’s something I need him to do. After all, he put me through hell. He owes me, and I don’t feel a bit guilty making him talk to me about why he left. It might be the piece of the puzzle I’ve been missing to help me move on.

After a tense moment, Jared nods and then sits back down in the chair. His posture is stiff, and I can tell that he’s prepared for my interrogation. “You’re right. I do owe you that. Where do you want to start?”

“Okay.” I blow out a slow breath between pursed lips. “Let’s start with the night you came to my house drunk.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. “That was one of the worst days of my life. As you know, they yanked my scholarship that day, and I went into full-on panic mode when I found out that playing ball was no longer in the cards for me. It was like everything I ever worked for—my future that I thought was set in stone—was gone. You were there for me, but I thought you deserved so much better than me at that point, and I was angry with you for lowering your standards to stand beside me. I know it sounds silly, and believe me, once I was able to think rationally about the situation, I realized what a fucked-up mental case I was that day. It was like my brain couldn’t process any more.

“In Sunday school they always preached that God wouldn’t give us more than we can handle, but I’m not sure how true that is. That time in my life—so much was put on me that I think it broke my rational mind. The reasoning part of my brain got buried under the anxious side that only saw the worst possibility in all situations.”

I study his face, and I’m hearing what he’s saying, and I believe him. I can just look into his eyes and know he’s telling me the truth. It’s good that he’s finally able to admit how out of control he was.

“I guess what I’m saying is, the only thing left I had at that point was you. You were the one thing left in this world that could be taken from me—you and my family. I knew deep down at some point you would get tired of my shit if I could only work a minimum-wage job because I couldn’t afford to finish school, and I just couldn’t handle that. If I was going to lose you, I wanted it to be on my terms—that I would get rid of you first so I could avoid the blindside down the road.”

“Jared . . .” I say his name in a hushed whisper. “I would’ve never left you. I loved you.”

He stares up at me. “Something reminded me lately of how things can be taken without notice. One of my bandmates lost his mother, and it got me thinking. It’s the reason I came back here. Mom won’t be around forever, and I wanted to fix things between us before it was too late. I wanted to at least rectify my past with her, but you . . . I wasn’t ready to face you yet.”

“So you bringing the flowers . . . ?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “A simple mistake. Mom had those yellow roses set off to the side, and I grabbed them with the rest of the deliveries. I didn’t know they were for you. There was no name on the card, only an address, which I thought was odd. How were you even supposed to know who they were from?”

I swallow hard. It’s then that I wonder if Jared has a clue about Wes and me, because surely he would’ve said something about the flowers being from Wes, since he’s the only person who would be sending those to me. I suddenly feel like the traitorous girlfriend, but that’s ridiculous, considering I haven’t seen Jared in five years. It’s none of his business, really, but I should at least explain to him about the situation between Wes and me before he hears it from someone else. “I know who they’re from.”

He looks away from me and points his gaze down to the floor, but he doesn’t look angry, more disappointed and sad. “Oh?” Jared holds his hands out in front of him, balancing his elbows on his knees, and rubs his palms together. “Are you seeing someone?”

I lick my dry lips. “It’s complicated.”

This was a day I never wanted to see come. Telling him—explaining why I married his brother—is something I convinced myself that I would never have to do, considering he left without a word and seemed disinterested in the things I did.

“A scorned lover then?” He raises a questioning eyebrow.

“The thing you have to understand about that is . . . well . . . it’s—”

“Complicated. I got that part, and I know I have no business prying into your life. I don’t have the right to do that anymore, but I can’t help but be curious.” There’s a hint of a tease in his voice, but I know he’s dying to know the answer to his questions.

I straighten my shoulders. “Let’s not talk about our love lives. I’m sure mine pales in comparison to the things you’ve done, Mr. Rock Star.”

I add the last little jab. It’s way too tense in this room, and I don’t think either of us is ready to unveil all our truths to one another at this point.

He smiles a bit. “You been keeping tabs on me?”

I hold up my index finger and thumb, then bring them close together, leaving only a smidgen of room between them. “Just a little. It’s hard not to when I see your band everywhere I turn lately. They were just talking about your band on that gossip show
Celebrity Pop Buzz Nightly
the other night. That reporter, Linda Bronson, is determined to track down the whereabouts of your lead singer. Has he really disappeared?”

He nods. “Yeah. Our tour manager, Jane Ann, can’t find him anywhere. She thinks he’s gone into hiding. He’s missing shows and costing Mopar Records a boatload of money. They’re pretty pissed at him but are determined to find him.”