Chapter 24
Sam drove back to the consortium from his attorney’s office, his head swimming with the events of the past few weeks. Voices filled his motorcycle helmet: Psychodad’s, Dr. Mowbray’s, Gary’s, and, of course, Red’s.
He heard again Dad’s doctor offering to set up an appointment for Dad with a specialist at Woodcrest.
His lawyer, telling him in so many words that his very future hinged on that specialist’s report.
Sam parked and entered the consortium through the front door, the public entrance that led to the bar. For some reason, his eye went straight to the barstool where Red had been perched just last week when she’d told Junie that she had just accepted a consulting gig every other Friday in Newberg.
He stopped in his tracks.
Today just happened to be a Friday.
And Woodcrest was in Newberg.
What were the chances? At this very moment, Red might be evaluating George Owens, figuring out that he was really none other than Sam’s infamous Psychodad.
He whirled around, thinking to hightail it back to his bike, to race to Newberg and confront Red.
Halfway down the sidewalk he turned and walked back, scrubbing a hand through his hair.
Think. Think! What was he going to say to her? His head spun. Too many lies.
Red was probably evaluating Psychodad this very minute. If she found out the saltbox was his, at least that was one thing he wouldn’t have to hide any longer.
But after the upbeat meeting with Gary, the idea of wresting control of the house sooner rather than later had started to grow on him. Maybe, after he’d successfully launched his plan, he could recover enough to give himself wholly to Red, the way she deserved.
Once, as a child, he had failed to protect the thing he loved best…the only creature that had ever loved him in return. He’d made it his life’s mission never to fail a loved one again. Wasn’t that why he kept Red at arm’s length—for her own safety?
How could this be happening? How could everything be blowing up in his face when he thought he had it planned so neatly?
He leaped back onto his bike, oblivious to the storm clouds bounding in from the coast.
At this very moment, Red could be discovering that he was a fraud—a skunk. A psycho, just like his dad. She’d never get that he’d only been trying to protect her from himself, just as he had protected his country.
* * * *
Sam’s bike roared into the parking lot at Woodcrest just as Red opened the back door to her old bomb.
He drove straight to where she was placing her workbag on the back seat.
“Doc,” he called over his engine and a steady rain.
She slammed her back door and glanced up, her face as hard as stone.
And he knew that she knew.
Ignoring him, she opened the driver’s door to get in.
He parked in front of her, blocking her exit.
“Let me explain.”
“There’s nothing you could say that I’d want to hear.” She put one foot into the car.
He was at her side in a flash, his hand digging into her arm. “Wait! It’s all in your hands. You have to declare Dad incompetent. He can’t go back to that house.”
Her face was mottled red and white. “Are you telling me how to do my job, now?”
“You said you wanted a relationship. That’s the only way it’s ever going to happen.”
“What’s one got to do with the other? You’re being irrational.”
“Just trust me, will you? He can’t go back there.”
“I was such a fool to fall for you.”
“Red—”
She slid into the seat and reached for the door handle.
Sam stepped between her and the door.
“Move,” she said tightly, blue eyes blazing.
“Listen to me,” he said, leaning down to eye level, one hand on the roof. “I was trying to protect you.”
“From what? You’re crazy, Sam Owens. You’re brash and arrogant and repressed. You have no clue how to be in a relationship. And if that weren’t enough, you’re a bald-faced liar.”
He stood up and thrust out his chest. “I’m proactive. I don’t back down.”
“You treat life like it’s a battlefield.”
“You haven’t seen what I’ve seen,” he barked. “It’s a tough world out there.”
“It’s not your job to make it safe for everyone.”
“I stand up for what I believe in.”
“Instead of relating to people, you try to control them.”
“I strive to protect what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours! I never will be. Anything we could have been, you’ve ruined.” The rain came down in earnest, splotching the front of her shirt. “I’ll tell you one thing—from now on, my life will be divided. Before today and after today. Now move.”
Sam staggered backward.
Red’s car lurched forward a foot, knocking over his bike with a sickening clatter of metal. Seemingly without a care, she rammed the gearshift into reverse and backed out of her space.
He stood there in the rain, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides, and watched the Impala’s taillights glow red in the rain.