Kept (42 page)

The room stayed silent, but people glanced at each other.

Dillan looked at Austin who looked back with wide eyes.
Go on,
Dillan mouthed.

Austin blinked, clearly at a loss.

Yeah, this wasn’t the type of thing you discussed in Bible college.
Pray
, he mouthed.

Austin asked for volunteers to pray for Miska and the other requests. Cam volunteered. Then Garrett. Jordan. Two others. Austin never looked Dillan’s way, never let him volunteer.

Maybe that was for the best. Miska needed to know how much this group loved her, regardless of her history; and as the prayers rose, one after the other, it was clear that they did.

The prayers destroyed what little control she had.

Cam prayed that she’d know God’s forgiveness and that He’d give her direction for the future. Garrett prayed for safety and wisdom when the story became public. Jordan prayed for comfort through whatever was coming. On and on the care went. It was enough. It was too much.

And yet it wasn’t enough; Dillan had stayed out of it.

Sure, he’d said her name once, tried to stop her before she spilled it all. But once she had, he hadn’t been able to look at her, had kept his gaze on the ground.

The prayers ended, and she tried to erase her tears, but people surrounded her, loved on her, gave her hugs and encouragement. Garrett and Cam even gave her decent guy hugs and told her to hang in there, that it would be okay.

Would it?

People she didn’t know very well told her they’d be praying for her. She thanked them but couldn’t help looking past the people around her at the one person who mattered most. The one who’d stayed out of the circle of support and talked to Austin beside the podium.

What did he think now?

He gave Austin a pat on the back, glanced at the crowd around her, then left.

No, it would never be okay.

On the other side of the kitchen island, Dad sat up on his stool, eyebrows raised. “When you make up your mind, you don’t waste time, do you?”

Miska closed the oven door on the tilapia, smiling at the truth in his words. Dad’s thoughts about her quitting New York were just like Mom’s words when she’d moved there before she’d even found a job.

Mom, Dad, a family she didn’t even know— “You ever think about getting us all together?”

“Yes. At least the seven of you who speak to me.”

“I’d love that. We could be a family for the first time.”

“Family’s important.”

Words she’d never expected from him. “It is.”

He opened his mouth to say more, but a familiar knock sounded on her door.

Miska grabbed the counter’s edge.

“What is it?”

She held a finger over her mouth. “It’s Adrienne.” Of all the days for her sister to drop in.

“Get the door. I’ll keep quiet.”

“No, hide in my bedroom. Shut the door, and don’t make a sound.”

He hurried away.

The knock came again.

Miska sucked in a breath and blew it out. “Coming,” she called, hoping her voice sounded normal. She took her time down the hallway and opened the door, pretending surprise. “Hey, girl. What’re you doing here?”

“I came to ask you about the contract.” Adrienne brushed past her. “Have you made up your mind?”

“Oh. No. Not yet.” She followed Adrienne to the couch. “I thought you said I could take a week.”

“Paul doesn’t like that you hid the blog. Keep it up. We can post that the book is coming and increase your readership in the meantime.”

No way was she putting the blog back up. “Adrienne, I’m not taking any book offer.”

“Of course you are. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

“I won’t profit from it.”

Adrienne rolled her eyes.

“Mark may go to jail because of me. Darcie and a baby are dead because of—”

“Because of you. I know. When will you realize that you’re not responsible for what he did? You’re not taking advantage of him or anyone else. You’re just making the best of a sad, sad situation.”

“No. I could never live with myself.”

Miska held Adrienne’s gaze. Her sister broke eye contact first. Sighing, she glanced at the kitchen. “Smells like you’ve got fish cooking—” She straightened. Her gaze landed on the table set for two. “What’s this? Got a date?”

She swallowed the sudden rush in her throat. “He’ll be here soon.”

“Who is it? Dillan? If you’re already cooking fish, he must be nearby.”

Closer than Adrienne realized. “It’s not Dillan.”

“Garrett?”

“Seriously? You think I’d date Tracy’s ex?”

“Why not? They broke up.”

“Thanks to you.”

Adrienne waved the words away. “I’ll go. Have fun with your mystery man.”

“I will.” Miska followed her around the couch.

“You’re not dressed for a date, though.”

“Maybe I’m not dating the way I used to.”

“Whatever makes you happy, Miska.” She paused beside the island. “But just because—” Her gaze locked onto something by the barstools. She stepped closer and tilted her head.

Miska did the same.

Dad’s leather messenger bag leaned against the barstool’s legs.

Adrienne nudged it. “Whose is this?”

Miska’s hand covered her mouth before she could stop it.

Adrienne looked up.

Miska lowered her hand to her neck, hoping for nonchalance.

“Is that Jack’s?”

“No, it’s—”

“Don’t lie to me.” Adrienne twisted, looking for him. “Where is he?”

“He’s not here, Adrienne.”

Adrienne swore at her, her eyes narrowed and dark. “You told me you weren’t seeing him. You said—”

“You forced me!”

“How could you lie to me?”

“How could I want to have a relationship with one of my parents? How could I want to know the one family member I actually look like?”

“He doesn’t deserve to know us. It’s wrong.”

“It is
not
wrong. You can make your own choices, Adrienne, but you can’t force them on me. My mom is gone. My brothers—” She laughed out her frustration. “Like we ever see each other. Dad is all I have left.”

“
Dad
?” Adrienne stepped back. “You call him Dad?”

The ultimate betrayal. Miska knew it. “It’s my decision to make. Not yours.”

The bedroom door clicked open, and Adrienne turned toward the sound.

Dad—Jack—stepped out, his smile wan. “Hello, Adrienne.”

She raised her jaw, stared down her nose at him.

He walked closer. “Now you know. We’ve been getting together almost weekly for… how long, Miska? Two months? Three?”

What was he doing? “Awhile.”

Adrienne’s gaze bore into her peripheral vision.

“I meet with all of my kids. All except you and Alec.” He stopped at the other end of the island.

Adrienne clung to her corner.

“I don’t get together with the rest as much, but Miska and I—” He sent her a warm smile. “She and I are the closest.”

“That’s enough.” Adrienne pushed her bag’s strap higher on her shoulder. “I can’t pretend this is okay, because it’s not. It’s me or him, Miska.”

“Adrienne, calm down. Just—wait a minute. Think.”

“Oh, I have. Either he stays a part of your family, or I do. There isn’t room for both.”

“You don’t mean that.” Miska reached for her, but Adrienne stepped back. “Just like that? You could throw away all the years we’ve had together? Because I want to know my father?”

“He was
never
. Our. Father.” Her teeth clenched together, lips revealing the polished hatred within. “You’re the one throwing me away. And for what? A man who’ll abandon you again? Just wait. It’s coming.”

“No.” He took a step closer, and Adrienne retreated further. “I’m a different man. I would never—”

Her sister turned her shoulder on him. “What is it, Miska? Who goes?”

“Adrienne.” The name released her anguish. “Please.”

“
Who
, Miska?”

How could she pick? Adrienne was the only sister she’d ever known. She’d never been perfect, but they were sisters. They’d been roommates. They’d picked each other up when things went wrong. They’d shared the same kitchen, the same condo, had loved the other despite their differences. Could she give that up? “I won’t choose.”

Adrienne’s shoulders slumped. Her bag’s strap slipped down her arm and yanked on her elbow. “Then that’s your decision.”

“Never. That’s
your
decision.” Her voice cracked. A tear escaped, then another, and suddenly more vaulted from her eyes. She reached for her sister.

Adrienne jerked back.

“Listen to me. You know I love you—”

“Not if you’re choosing him.” Her sister turned her back and started down the hallway.

“Adrienne, stop!”

Adrienne turned the knob.

“You can come back.” Miska wiped her cheeks. “Any time. You know I love—”

The door closed. Adrienne was gone.

Miska sagged against the island.

“Miska. Oh, Miska.” Dad’s arms circled her. “My poor girl. My poor baby girl.”

She let him hold her while her grief seeped across his shoulder.

When she finally raised her head, nothing was better. Dad was still there, and Adrienne was still gone.

“You chose me,” he whispered to her. “You chose
me
.”

Had she? Or had Adrienne made the choice for her?

“You need to write that book, Miska.”

His words didn’t make sense. “What book?”

“The contract she offered you. A book about you and Mark, right?”

“I can’t. It’s wrong.”

“No. You’re making lemonade out of lemons. That’s all. Take the contract.”

She stared at him.

“Take it.”

“That’s what you’d do?”

He nodded. “Write it. It’s the only way forward.”

Forward. Was that even an option anymore?

“So you’re finally gonna ask her.”

From his seat on the couch, Dillan glanced at Garrett in the kitchen, then back at his phone where he searched for the perfect first-date restaurant. “It’s been two days since we ran together—since I’ve seen her. All I think about is how she’s doing, what she’s thinking.”

Garrett planted his palms on the countertop. “You miss her.”

He did. “You should see how she’s changed. It’s like—” He set the phone aside. “I don’t even see her as the Miska before. She’s completely different. I just want to… be near her.”

“Well, bro, it’s been real. Invite me to the wedding.”

“The wedding. Right. I haven’t asked her out.”

“So what are you waiting for? Go. Ask.”

“Now?”

“You got a better time?”

“I don’t know. I could wait for the stars to align.”

“Oh, of course. Absolutely. Suddenly I understand how you’ve been single so long.”

Smiling, Dillan stood and ran his hands over his hair. He stretched up on his toes, tensed his arms and neck as he arched his back.

Garrett snickered.

“What?”

“It’s funny seeing you like this. Nervous, stalling. Giddy.”

“I’m not giddy.”

“Dude. You’re giddy. You were grinning at the windows for five minutes before you said you were gonna ask her out. I stood here and watched. Gid. Ee.”

“What do you think she’ll say?”

Garrett pursed his lips and studied the ceiling. He nodded to himself. “Prolly no.”

“Dude.”

Garrett cracked up.

Dillan laughed with him. “Thanks a lot, man.”

“I love it when you go all
dude
on me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not helping any,
dude.
I think I’ll head next door and ask her before you completely maim my confidence.”

“You go, girl.”

Dillan waved him off. “Shut up.”

Garrett’s laughter followed him out of the condo.

But in the hallway, he sank against the wall opposite Miska’s door. What would he say? Seriously. How was he not better prepared for this?

With his foot, he pushed off the wall and stepped in front of her door. He knocked three times, the sound strong and confident, everything he wished he was.

His fingers drummed against his shorts. Dinner tomorrow night would be a good start. They could go north, maybe walk through Millennium Park—

Inside, Miska spoke to someone. The lock jingled, and she swung open her door, smiling unsteadily. “Dillan. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Good.” He should ask about her. “You?”

“Not bad. What’s up?”

“Oh. I just—” He wet his lip. “I hadn’t seen you in awhile. Wondered how you’ve been.”

“You mean after Wednesday night.”

He’d forgotten all about that. “You know you didn’t have to tell everyone.”

“No, I did.” She glanced into her condo, then stepped closer, keeping the door cracked open with her heel. “I’m glad I did it. Everyone reacted so much differently than I’d expected. Now I don’t have to worry about…”

“About Ethan.”

She looked down at her feet.

Why was she so withdrawn? This wasn’t like her. “Miska, what’s happened?”

“Nothing’s happened.”

“Mark hasn’t called you? Threatened you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong? You’re not you.”

She bit her lip. “I have to be careful.”

“Of?”

“Dillan, I’m going to be all over the news. Fox, CNN—they’ll all be talking about me. There’ll probably be reporters outside the building.” Her dark eyes shone. “I’m going to be known for months—years—as the woman who destroyed a family.”

Yes, and none of that was a newsflash. “That’s who you were. You’re different now—”

“But it’s too late. I can’t change what I was. What I did.”

She’d lost him. “God doesn’t expect us to change the past. He saves us, and we move on.”

She sagged against the doorjamb.

“Not to sound calloused here, but I’m not getting the problem. Mark’s going to pay for what he did. You’ll—” Oh, boy. “Yes, you’ll be dragged along with the story, but you’ve got people who’ll be there for you.” He swallowed. “I’ll be here for you.”

She looked at him.

“I mean it, Miska. I—” How did he go from this to asking her on a date? What did he say? “I’ve missed you. Missed our runs. Missed seeing you in the morning, hearing about the verse you read that just blew your mind.”