Return of the Bad Girl (29 page)

The crack in his bizarre Stepford-ness made her smile. “That’s better.”

Huffing, he said, “All I wanted to make clear was that if you would like to press charges against him now, I will do whatever I can to help.”

It was still hard for her to believe her father was here for her, but she needed to give him the benefit of the doubt if she wanted a real truce between them. Besides, she couldn’t deny his support warmed her and gave her hope that maybe old, stubborn dogs could learn new tricks. “Thank you, Daddy,” Caroline said, adding, “I take it the investigation is going well?”

“Yes,” her father said, his tone clipped.

A small part of Caroline pitied her dad. He had put his faith in a man who had violated that trust. It had to sting.

Then again . . .

“We don’t need to talk about the investigation right now,” he said, taking another drink of his water. “I want to talk about this man you’re living with.”

Oh, no, we are not going there.
Struggling for another subject, Caroline decided to push his buttons a little. Since he was in a good mood and all, she might as well try to get him to bridge the gap between him and her sisters.

“Or we could talk about this newfound humbleness and how it’s going to lead you to Val’s doorstep to apologize for being a judgmental ass.”

“I will not. If your sister wants to throw her life away on a lowlife farmer who will never—”

“That lowlife farmer is a veteran who loves your daughter. You should be proud that she chose a good man, even if his pedigree isn’t what you were hoping for.”

Her father spluttered angrily. “Caroline—”

“No, you need to accept the fact that your daughters are grown and are starting their lives. We are not asking for your permission; the only thing we want is your blessing. Your acceptance of who we are. You don’t have to like our spouses, our professions, or what we chose to do with our future; those are our choices, not yours,” Caroline said, emotion clogging her throat. “You’re right. You weren’t much of a dad to us growing up, but you can take this opportunity to change that now.” Reaching out, she took his softly wrinkled hand and said, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to love me.”

“Oh, you’re my daughter. Of course I—”

“No!” Caroline shouted, dropping his hand and standing over him. “Don’t you dare say you love me like it’s so obvious, how could I stupidly miss it? When you love someone, you show that person every day. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t remember Mom hugging or kissing me, but with you . . . I don’t have any of those good memories. I remember the times you told me to try harder, to do better, to be the best.”

Her father didn’t speak for several minutes. Finally he said, “That’s how I showed you . . . I tried to make you three into productive members of society.”

“That’s not love, Dad,” Caroline said, sniffling. “If you had truly loved us, seeing how miserable we were would have broken your heart.”

After several moments, Edward stood up.

“Fair enough,” he said. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a manila envelope. He held it out to Caroline, but when she didn’t take it, he set it on the couch. “This is for you.”

As hobbled to the door, she stared at the envelope with warring emotions. “What is it?”

“Open it and see,” he called from the doorway. “And Caroline?”

“What?” she said.

“I just don’t want to see you make any more mistakes,” he said, opening the door. “You’ve come so far and surpassed my expectations. You know, I gave you six months before you’d come home, begging to be taken back.”

“I guess I proved you wrong, huh?” Caroline said, watching the man she’d once thought larger than life lean on his cane.

“Yes, I suppose you did,” he said, starting to close the door.

“Hey, Dad,” she called.

“Yes?”

“Go see Valerie,” Caroline said, picking up the envelope. “Out of the three of us, she’s the only one who loved you enough to try to follow the plans you laid out for her. She should get points for that.”

Her father didn’t answer as he shut the door, and Caroline sat down heavily on the couch, the manila envelope in her lap.

That was probably the oddest yet most honest conversation you two have ever had.

And it had only taken thirty years.

Staring down at the envelope, she slowly twisted the metal prongs and the flap sprang up. She wasn’t sure what she would find. Had her father dug into Gabe’s past and found something? Was it all the dirt he had collected on Kyle?

Dumping the envelope upside down, she let the contents fall next to her on the couch.

And was dumbstruck.

There were pictures, dozens of them, of
her
over the last twelve years. Pictures of her leaving the strip club. Sleeping in her car. Even when she’d been arrested. As she sifted through the scattered photos, she realized that angry, loud sobs had begun wracking her body.

He’d had her followed, had known everything all along.

And for what? What did this prove? That he’d been making sure she was still alive? Had he enjoyed watching her struggle and tread water?

Beneath the pile was a scrap of yellow paper, and with shaking hands, she picked it up, unfolding it to read the words.

Caroline,

Despite the fact that I kept my distance, I needed to know you were all right. I thought if I just gave you time, you would come home, but you never gave up. Your mother was that way—determined. It was why I married her; she never gave up on me, even when I was at my worst.

You may think that you have seen the worst of me in many ways, but I need to confess: Carl Jackson didn’t find you by chance. Carl and I knew each other, once upon a time, and I called in a favor. Initially, I just wanted you to get out of that hell hole you were working in; I never expected you to find your passion. Sometimes, it’s hard for me to accept that even I might be wrong every once in a while.

I know it doesn’t mean much to you, but I am
proud
of what you’ve done.

    
Your father,

    
Edward Willis

Caroline gripped the letter tightly as tears dripped onto the blue ink. She didn’t know how to take her father’s big reveal. Was she angry? Perhaps a little—just because in all the years she’d known Carl, he’d never said a word.

The path to her success had started with her father’s calling in a favor.

Let it go,
she thought
. This is his way of making amends. Of showing you he cares in his own, twisted way.

It was a step in the right direction.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, Caroline lay in Gabe’s arms, listening to the sound of his breathing. It was four o’clock, but she couldn’t sleep. Gabe was supposed to take her to the airport at ten, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be stuck in a car with him for two hours, with so many doubts rolling around in her head.

Last night, after they’d settled in for bed, Gabe had asked her to meet his sister.

Caroline knew how much Honey meant to him and that this was a big gesture on his part. It said he was serious about them and looking toward the future. Yesterday, she’d been so sure, so positive that all her preconceived notions about him were wrong, that this was the guy for her, and he wasn’t just like every other guy that she’d fallen for: a big disappointment waiting to happen.

But between the exclusivity talk with Gabe, her father’s drop-in bombshell, and all of the emotional upheaval between her sisters and her, she was in intimacy overload. She wasn’t used to “sharing her feelings” so much and taking the next step toward something seemingly better.

And suddenly, it was seriously wigging her out.

Just then, she heard Possum scratching in the litter box, and she crawled out of bed to check on him. When he saw her peek around the corner, he started whining.

“Hey, buddy, you miss brother?” she said, sitting down on the floor so he could rub on her. “Me too.”

Stroking the kitten, Caroline realized that she needed to take a couple days and clear her head. She was just confused, and with a little distance and perspective, she’d be able to decide if she could ever fully trust anyone.

If she couldn’t do that, what kind of future would she have?

S
LEEPILY
, G
ABE REACHED
for Caroline, expecting a groan of irritation for trying to wake her, but his hand hit cold sheets.

Opening his eyes, he searched the room for any sign of her but saw nothing. He got up from the bed and headed down the hall, stopping off at the bathroom to take a piss.

In the living room, something was different. At first, he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Then he realized her luggage was gone.

He went back into his room to grab some clothes and saw that his clock read 10:45. They were supposed to have left at ten to get to the airport by noon. Gabe dressed quickly and went downstairs, just to be sure.

Her car was gone.

It didn’t make any sense. Why would she just leave without telling him?

When he walked back into the house, he went to grab his phone from the charger and saw a sheet of paper on the counter.

Gabe,

I just need some time to think. I’ll be back on Monday. Please feed Possum.

    
C.

Gabe stared at the note and started to laugh. He laughed until he couldn’t breathe as he reread the letter again and again. For the first time in his life, he’d opened up to a woman and tried to share pieces of himself.

And she had bailed. Taken off without even saying good-bye to his face.

It says she just needs time. Maybe you’re wrong.

But Gabe didn’t think so and as he crumpled the note in his palm, pain shook his whole body until he was shouting with it. Before he could stop himself, he was hitting the cupboards and the walls, tearing the place apart until he lay on his back, panting, cupboard doors off their hinges and gaping holes in the walls, reminding him that he’d lost control.

That losing Caroline had made him lose all sense.

Crawling back to his feet, he took a few calming breaths before he called Chase. “Can you give me a ride to Home Depot? I only have the bike, and I need to pick up some stuff.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I had an accident.” Gabe grimaced as he looked around the room.

When Chase showed up ten minutes later, he gaped at the damage. “What the fuck did you do? Try to take out a wall?”

Gabe smoothed out Caroline’s crumpled note and handed it to Chase. “I’ll be down by the car.”

Before he even reached the door, Chase said, “I’m sorry, man.”

“Yeah,” Gabe said, heading out the door.

He’d taken a gamble on Caroline and lost.

Look at that, Mom. You and I aren’t that different after all.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“My advice to all women is to accept the fact that insensitivity is a common trait in men.”

—Miss Know It All

I
N
N
EW
Y
ORK
, Caroline tried not to think about Gabe or what he might be thinking after she’d snuck out on him. If the lack of returned texts or calls was any indication, he must be furious with her.

After the first day, the guilt had started sinking in. Why had she tried to sabotage something that was going so well? Gabe was everything, the whole package. Caring, loyal, accepting . . .

And she’d run for the hills the minute he started getting too close.

She’d already left two voicemails and six or so text messages, so any damage control she needed to accomplish would have to wait until she got home.

Which had her so tied up in knots, she’d hardly slept at all and missed her alarm clock this morning. She’d woken up with enough time to throw on clothes before she had to leave for her appointment with Mr. Kline. Luckily, she walked into MacAvoy’s Tavern with five minutes to spare and immediately saw that the bar was certainly in need of some help.

It was dirty; the kitchen was inexcusable; and the bar staff was incompetent. However, the original wood carvings on the walls, the bar itself, and solid wood bar stools were exquisite, and she wondered if there might be a way to keep them.

“I’ll need a day to come up with a solid renovation plan, but I definitely think I can help you, Mr. Kline,” Caroline said to the short, round bar owner a few hours later. The man was in his early fifties and seemed like a solid person, which was part of the reason she had a hard time understanding the bar’s disrepair.

“I appreciate it, Ms. Willis, but in actuality, I asked you out here in the hopes that you might be interested in saving my bar . . . for yourself.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m getting older, and to tell you the truth, my memory isn’t much these days. I can’t leave this place to my sons. I let them manage it for me this last year, and they’ve almost ruined me. Not a brain between them, as you can see. I’d like to sell the bar while it’s still worth something, but I can’t bear to see it torn down or turned into something that it isn’t.”

“But I just settled down in Idaho, and I have . . .”

How about friends? How about a beautiful man who makes you feel whole for the first time ever?

But what if she had screwed that up beyond repair?

Then you still have your family.

“Just take the night to consider,” he said. “I assure you, the price I’m willing to sell it for is quite reasonable.”

Thanking Mr. Kline, she left the bar and decided that a walk would clear her mind. The problem with New York was, if you were looking for peace and quiet, it was a pretty long taxi ride to get there.

Still, after hailing the cab, she climbed in and said, “Central Park, please.”

“You got it,” the cabbie said, turning on the meter.

As the cab pulled into traffic, she took her cell phone out of her pocket and checked the missed calls. Three. One from Valerie, the next from a number she didn’t know, and the last from Zoe.