Chapter 1
─────
6 months later - Andrew
There’s a dead bug splattered on the windshield. I flip on the wipers and yellowish guts smear across the glass. I stare intently at death until a bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. Peeling off my jacket, I toss it behind and slump back into the seat. The sun, now warming the car into a sweltering oven, has been up for a few hours.
Shame it can’t seem to shed any light on what the hell I’m doing.
I’ve known where she fled to for months now. Dad refused to help me at first, but my persistence and a few crocodile tears wore him down. He pulled a few strings, found out where she started working, and now the GPS on my phone is loaded up with the address to a restaurant in the city of La Grande.
I just needed a reason; a good excuse for leaving town without raising a million questions. Then yesterday out of the blue, my parents and sister took off to visit a college campus in Portland. They’ll be gone all weekend. The perfect opportunity to slip away dropped into my lap.
All that’s left is for me to put this car into gear, hit the gas, and pull out of the driveway.
Instead of reaching for the gear stick, my hand clenches into a fist and slams down on the dashboard. This is ridiculous. Why the fuck should I chase after her like a lost puppy? She left of her own accord, didn’t leave so much as a note. Why am I hell bent on finding her?
For the truth.
That’s right. She owes me a goddamn explanation, and in return, I will be the bigger person and remove the burden she’s carried around. How my sister tells it, Tessa has blamed herself all these years for what her father did to me as a child. I may hate her, but not even my worst enemy deserves to live with that kind of guilt.
After several deep breaths, I put the Prius in reverse and check the review mirror. In the reflection, a ghost of a smile traces my lips as I remember the time Tessa teased me about the poorly named vehicle.
The car is named Sparkles?
Yep.
Why?
Because apparently this particular paint sparkles in the sunlight.
So, your car is a vampire from Twilight. . .
That was one of the first times she let her guard down; her light laugh was music to my ears.
And now she’s gone.
With a growl, I hit the gas and speed into the street. I’ll find her, tell her it wasn’t her fault, and she won’t need to feel guilty about it any longer. My part will be done.
I will be able to wash my hands of Tessa Kinsley forever.
It’s still early in the evening when I pull up to the restaurant. I park in the last row of the dirt lot and take my time walking to the entrance. As I step inside, I tug my ball cap low over my face and keep my eyes down. At my request, the hostess guides me to a booth that’s tucked away in a dark corner. Luck is with me tonight when I’m greeted by a stranger.
“My name’s Darla and I’ll be taking care of you this evening. What can I get you started with, hun?” Her perky attitude nauseates me.
“Heineken, thanks.” She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask to see any identification before she sashays away. My eyes wander around the room until I locate my reason for coming. She’s raised up on the balls of her feet, reaching for something up on a high shelf. With a grunt, she blows the hair out of her eyes and flips around in defeat.
Little Tess.
She hated that nickname when we were kids. Her face would scrunch up and she wouldn’t talk to me for hours. Thinking back now, she wasn’t tiny for her age, she was malnourished. The veil of anger slips a fraction as I remember how much I loved the little girl with ocean eyes.
Watching her now, it’s easy to forget she was once that girl.
Her revealing black dress is skin tight and hardly covers her thighs. If she were to bend over, the dozens of men who watch her from the corner of their eyes would get a view. Ruby red lips, full hips, and a sultry smile are all reminders that she’s no longer a child in any sense of the word.
“Here you go, handsome.” The waitress sets down the bottle with a promise to check on me.
I drain the beer and return my attention to Tessa. She laughs at something a customer says as she drops off a pile of nachos. As soon as she turns away, her flirtatious smile melts into a grimace.
My heart pangs in my chest at the dull, lifeless expression that settles in her blue eyes.
She’s still your princess, forgive her.
I always hated to see her sad, couldn’t bear the sound of her crying. Her eyes didn’t just remind me of the ocean because of the color, but how much water leaked from them. Could I forgive her? Am I capable of that? To walk up, take her into my arms, and beg her to return home?
I’m furious, I’m broken, but some things are more important than wounded pride. I just want her back in my life, my childhood best friend, the girl I fell in love with even after I had all memories of her stolen away. Who falls in love with the same girl twice for God’s sake?
We were meant to storm the world, side by side, and I can’t give up, not yet.
Sliding out of the booth, I clear my throat and straighten. Projecting more confidence than I feel, I take one step in her direction, but stop with a start.
Arms slip around her waist, and with a squeal, she’s lifted off her feet. My jaw tics as I watch Chase pull her close and dance with her to the jukebox. A smile—a genuine one this time—lights up her face when his face buries into her neck. After a minute, she smacks him away, but not before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. He whips a dishtowel at her ass as she walks away, making her giggle and rush off.
My stomach churns and I swallow back the acidic bile rising in my throat.
“Just checking to see if you wanted some grub. We have the best loaded nachos around.” The waitress follows my line of vision and turns back with a knowing smile. “Such a pretty thing, but not on the market, if you know what I mean. Never seen a young couple so head over heels in love. . .”
Slamming down a twenty on the table, I walk out of the restaurant without another word, leaving the flabbergasted waitress behind.
With a heavy thud, I drop to the curb outside and chastise myself for being such a fool. I told myself she freaked out, that she was scared. I refused to consider that he was the real reason she left. As I laid in the dirt in a pool of my own blood, she ran away to be with Chase.
I could leave her a note and tell her I remember everything, that I don’t blame her—but fuck that.
She can suffer.
She can suffer. Just as I did when I was beat into a bloody pulp by her psychotic co-workers.
Yanking out my wallet, I take out a folded photo and use the palm of my hand to flatten it against the concrete. My hands tremble with rage as I stare at the image.
The picture was taken the night of the Spring Fling, right before my life went flying off the rails. Tessa is standing at the bottom of the stairs in her satin blue dress, fingers woven together in uncertainty. Her blue eyes are on me as a soft smile graces her lips.
She’s so beautiful it fucking hurts.
Someone knocks into my elbow as they pass by. “Oh, shit, sorry. I’m such a klutz.”
I don’t bother to look up.
From the corner of my eye, I watch the woman shrug and walk away. Before she’s out of earshot, I call out to her, “You wouldn’t happen to have a light, would you?”
The woman turns with a raised eyebrow. After a moment’s hesitation, she walks back. “Sure.” She holds out a lighter and I take it with a small nod of appreciation.
Fear flickers across her pretty features when I bring it to the edge of the photograph and light it. She seems to consider walking away, but something, perhaps curiosity, wins out.
“Pretty girl, who is she?”
The photo curls up as the image melts and her blue eyes distort into something unrecognizable. When all but a single corner is engulfed in flames, I drop it into the gutter at my feet.