More Than You Know by Jennifer Gracen (17)

Chapter Seventeen

Julia stared across her bedroom, out the window, but not really seeing. Sunlight filtered in, streaming thick rays of bright morning gold into her room. The only sound was that of her air conditioner, humming from its perch in the other window. She curled up into a tighter ball beneath her pale yellow comforter and stared into the distance. As it had since she’d returned home, her body felt lifeless, but her mind kept spinning in endless circles.

She hadn’t gotten out of bed since she’d hit it the night before, except to pee. She had no appetite. She had downed a few glasses of water, and that was it. Sleep had finally taken her around 3:00 A.M., but it had been a tortured, restless sleep. Since nine, she’d just been lying in bed, staring into space, thinking about everything. Going back down roads of memory she’d closed the gates to years ago.

It was all like something out of a bad movie, whether what Liam had written was true or not. It was mind-boggling. To think that Max would have gone to all that trouble, been so devious, underhanded, and scheming . . . not just to her, and to their son, but also to drag a heroin addict back under . . . Max was a true sociopath. And that was who had raised Colin all this time. It made her literally sick to think of that.

Colin. Her sweet boy. As an infant, they’d been inseparable. She had been his world, and vice versa. She’d always wondered what horrible, degrading lies Max had fed to their son to keep him so firmly away from her. Considering that broke her heart each time she wondered, and almost broke her spirit, even still. An innocent boy, used as a tool for a spoiled psycho of a man who wanted a trophy for his family. Who knew what kind of person Colin had become as a result?

And Liam. If everything he said was true, his life had been destroyed too. She had sympathy for him. She did. He’d been courageous to come and find her after all this time, and then to write that letter even after he’d been thrown out of the hotel. He hadn’t had to tell her the truth. She never would have known, and he could have just gone on with his life. But he’d told her. And over the years, nearly killed himself to numb his self-loathing for his part in it. Yet another life wrecked by Max’s hand.

Max. Damn him to hell. Thinking about him made her blood burn like volcanic lava. Max had to answer for his crimes somehow. She wished she had the power, the leverage, the evidence, anything . . . but she didn’t, and she knew it. The feeling of powerlessness she’d suffered for so many years had returned and swallowed her whole. She couldn’t get out of bed. She didn’t even want to. If she hadn’t promised Dane she’d show up for work that night, she likely would stay in bed for days.

Dane. She sighed for the hundredth time as she thought of him. How she’d been ready to let him in more. How they’d been growing closer, inch by inch, and how it scared her but thrilled her too. How she’d been planning, when he got back from his trip, to tell him how she felt. How she’d been . . . hopeful.

But not now. No way. He’d read that letter. He’d seen her in a ball on the bathroom floor. He’d held her as she cried and she’d needed that, needed him, more than she’d thought possible, but . . .

All those things combined—and the sad, pitying look on his face when he came to sit with her after reading the letter . . . she was horrified and humiliated. Now, to him, she must seem like not much fun anymore—and worse, weak and pathetic. A sniveling girl, not an empowered woman who stood on her own. A woman who’d been stupid enough to be set up . . . so she’d pushed him away last night. Shoved him away, before he had the chance to do it to her.

She didn’t want to face him. Hell, she didn’t want to face herself. That was the truth of it.

Her eyes slipped closed before the tears started again. She drifted in and out of sleep for a while, she wasn’t really sure. A few hours, or a few minutes? The sunlight shifted position outside, and soon she knew it was past midday. She yanked the blanket up around her chin, then her mouth, almost concealing herself completely. She wished she could disappear, just vanish into thin air. The heartache was all-consuming.

The phone rang a few times. She ignored it. Finally, her stomach rumbled so hard that it hurt, and her hands and arms felt shaky from low blood sugar. She had to eat something. Slowly, she rose from bed, dismayed to realize she was light-headed from lack of food. Cursing herself for being an idiot, she dragged herself to the kitchen. She gulped down some orange juice straight from the carton to give her blood sugar a boost, then quickly made and ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The phone rang again. She ignored it again.

Trying not to become consumed with hatred toward her ex-husband was the only thing that kept her from focusing all that hatred upon herself. Of course she was responsible for part of it; she’d made some bad choices. But Colin shouldn’t have had to pay the price for that. Max was the one who had to pay for this horror show. And she had to reach Colin somehow; she had to do something.

As she put her plate in the sink, something started to bubble inside her, from a deep and dark place. She leaned against the counter and closed her eyes against it.

God, she hated him. She hated what that man had done to her life. To their son.

Red-hot rage seared through her like an electric current. But she stopped trying to swallow it, and finally welcomed it. Time to stop moping, get back up, and fight. When she was sad, she was paralyzed. When that ebbed and she got angry, she was revitalized. Now, she grew more than angry as she thought about it over and over, in different ways and scenarios. She was furious. She wanted to take an action, to strike back. But what could she do, really? “Think, Julia,” she spat at herself. “Think!”

She started to pace her apartment, walking from room to room. When the urge hit her, she stopped in her tracks. She had nothing to lose.

She grabbed the cordless phone from the tiny table next to her couch, then went to comb through her old address book—still a paper book, with all the entries made in ink. Before she could think it through too much and possibly change her mind, she pounded in Max’s phone number.

It rang once. Twice. Was it still a valid number? she suddenly wondered. She hadn’t called his house in years. But on the third ring, a familiar male voice answered. “Hello?”

Her stomach twisted at the sound of his voice. “Max. It’s Julia.”

He paused for a second, then said, “What do you want?”

“A million things,” she murmured. “But I wanted to tell you I just found out the truth. I know what you did.”

He snorted. “Not too vague. Still a drama queen, nothing’s changed. What the hell are you babbling about?”

“Liam told me everything,” she said in a low voice, meant to cut like a blade.

Max was quiet for a long beat, then said, “You talking to that junkie again? After all these years? How wonderful. Was it a happy reunion?”

“There was no reunion,” she ground out. She could feel her blood pounding at her temples. “He came to see me. To tell me what you did, because he’s felt so guilty all this time for his part in it that he felt he had to. He told me how you set me up.”

“You’re talking nonsense,” Max scoffed, but his voice wavered the tiniest bit.

“How you set me up,” she repeated, with force this time. She felt her fire ignite and flame in her chest, and used that anger to spur her on. “How you paid him to work his way into my life so you could use him against me. How you paid for his drugs to keep him in line when he threatened to back out and tell me what you were up to. How you knowingly got him high and told him to come to my home that way so he could horrify our son. Our sweet, innocent, six-year-old son! He told me everything, Max, you filthy sociopathic bastard.”

Silence floated over the line for a few seconds. Then, in a voice like the devil himself, Max snarled, “Prove it, you pathetic bitch.”

“I will,” she snapped back. “Believe me, I will. And then I’ll find a way to get to Colin and expose you for the disgusting excuse for a human being that you are. He needs to know the truth. All of the truth, not just your twisted version of it. He needs to know just how deranged his father was, and apparently, still is.”

“You stay away from him,” Max warned. His voice was filled with fury now. He was done pretending. “You don’t contact him, or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Julia laughed, a hollow, derisive sound. “You’ve already done the worst thing to me you could do. You took our son away from me, and kept him away from me, all these years.” She knew she was almost shouting now, but she couldn’t control herself. “I’ll never get those years back! I have a son who doesn’t know me. I have a son who I’ve always loved, and I might as well be dead to him, thanks to you and your manipulations. So don’t you threaten me, Max. You don’t scare me anymore.” She forced herself to lock down her voice, sound more controlled. “If anyone should be scared now, it should be you. I’m not some powerless, naïve young girl anymore. I’m strong as can be, thanks to the hell you put me through. And now, one way or another, I’m going to make you pay for what you did.”

“You listen to me, you goddamn slut,” Max snarled ferociously. “You stay away from Colin, and you stay away from me. Liam’s nothing but a lying junkie, and you’re nothing but a tramp who lures men while you sing for your supper, one step shy of working the pole. I’m a pillar of the community. You’re a trashy lounge act. No one will believe you. So if you try to stir this up—”

“Oh, I’ll be more than stirring this up, Max. And people will believe me. Which is probably why you suddenly sound so . . . desperate.” Julia tried to sound snide and calm, but her heart pounded wildly in her chest. “Consider this your only warning. When I bring this out, and prove what a disgusting, manipulative person you are to Colin—and the world—you’ll be sorry you ever met me.” She disconnected the call and stood there for a long moment, trying to catch her breath. Her words came back to her . . . and she laughed.

She had finally told him off. Her heart raced, her breathing came in short bursts, but . . . God, confronting that bastard had felt amazing! Empowering. She felt strong, like the woman she was now. The woman she’d worked so hard to become after all that misery. That woman was back on her feet.

Feeling energized, she went to take a shower and prepare for her trek into the city. She had a show to do that night, dammit.

As for Dane . . . she’d deal with Dane when she saw him. If he even wanted to see her at this point. After how she’d rebuffed him last night, she wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to talk to her again, much less them keep seeing each other. Maybe that would be for the best . . .

Her heart hissed at her. No it wouldn’t, idiot. You love him.

She sighed as she stepped into the shower. She had no idea what he wanted now. Maybe she’d finally pushed him away hard enough that he’d stay away this time. The thought made her throat constrict and her chest tighten.

 

 

“Thanks for dinner,” Tess said, smiling at her brother. “This was nice.”

“My pleasure.” Dane put a credit card inside the leather billfold and handed it to the waiter, who thanked him and walked away.

As soon as he did, Tess said flatly, “You’re not yourself tonight.” She stared across the table at him, scrutinizing without mercy. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Dane shrugged. Of course, he knew Tess knew. He’d been in a pissy mood all day. But he didn’t want to get into why. Didn’t want to talk about what had happened with Julia the night before. Or the fact that she’d been a total wreck, or the fact that he’d called her twice today and texted her and she hadn’t returned any of his messages, or the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about her and it was making him crazy.

“I’m okay,” he said.

Tess snorted. “No, you’re not. All through dinner, I kept hoping you’d volunteer something, but you haven’t. Talk to me.”

He sighed and said, “I really don’t want to talk about it, Tess. Please.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, then switched gears. “Dinner was lovely. I’m glad you could meet me out. Now, let’s go back to your hotel. I want to have a few drinks and see Julia’s show tonight.”

At the mention of Julia’s name, he actually flinched. He tried to cover it by rising to his feet, but his sister knew him too well.

Standing along with him, Tess pounced. “You think I didn’t see that?” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Talk to me, for Pete’s sake. Did you two have a fight or something? You’re obviously miserable, and it’s obviously about her.”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” he repeated. “Let it go, Tess. You want to see her sing, let’s go. She goes on in less than an hour.”

Tess sighed, but fixed him with a hard gaze and linked her arm through his. “Yes, I do. We’re going to hear her sing, I’m going to buy you drinks, and I’m going to pry it out of you. Whatever it is.”

“You can try,” Dane smirked. “I’ll take the drinks, though. Definitely that.”

Forty-five minutes later, they were seated at a small table angled off the stage. The bar and lounge were packed with people happy to be out on a late August Friday night. Bouncy swing music played from the speakers in the bar, mingling with the sounds of talk and laughter. Dane and Tess soaked up the atmosphere, comfortable enough with each other not to have to make small talk, which he was grateful for. Even when their drinks arrived, which was his third of the night, he couldn’t shake the tension that had gripped his insides since Julia had shaken off his hand the night before.

When the lounge’s lights dimmed, an anticipatory hush fell over the small crowd. In the bar, the music switched off, leaving only the rumble of human sound, audible but not intrusive. Kelvin and Julia emerged from backstage to applause, and they both smiled in acknowledgment as they hit their marks.

Kelvin, as usual, wore a black suit and straight black tie over a crisp white button down. He preferred to keep it simple and wore the same outfit every night. Julia . . . damn, Dane couldn’t take his eyes off her. Smoking hot in a little black dress. Spaghetti straps over her pale exposed shoulders; he wanted to nibble on them. The neckline plunged to display her impressive cleavage, but not in a lewd way, and the fabric hugged her voluptuous curves until it stopped just below the knee. Sexy as hell, but with class. And just a bit of an edge . . . like captured fire. That was his woman.

His woman. He’d thought that as naturally as anything. She’d probably swear at him if she knew he thought of her that way. He studied her features, wondering how she was really doing. She seemed fine. No hint of her being a total wreck the night before. But she was a consummate professional, always; he admired and respected that.

“Thank you so much for coming out tonight,” Julia said with a warm smile as her eyes skimmed over the audience. When she saw Dane, her face froze for a millisecond. He didn’t know what to make of that. He looked right back at her, schooling his features into neutrality. Little shouts bounced around in his head. Are you all right? What did you do all day? Why wouldn’t you pick up the damn phone? You look gorgeous. I want to devour you. I’ve been worried about you. I want to strangle you for your stubbornness. I love you. Please don’t shut me out.

He wasn’t even aware that Kelvin had started playing, but suddenly Julia was singing, and her gaze locked with his as the words flowed from her mouth.

Dane sat transfixed. The spotlight caught in her hair, bringing out glimmers of copper and gold in that fiery mane. Her voice was hypnotic, beautiful . . . and she was all but serenading him, hurling those lyrics his way as her soulful eyes pinned him. His breath came slowly; it was like the air had changed or time had slowed. All he could see was her, and all he wanted to do was hold her close.

But as he listened to the lyrics, filled with yearning and regret about how some things just can’t be, his jaw and gut tightened. If the song was any indication, if it was aimed purposely at him . . . wasn’t it?

As the song ended and the audience applauded, Julia’s eyes held his for a meaningful beat, then slipped from his, back out to the crowd. He grabbed his drink and gulped back a hard swallow.

Tess put her hand on his arm. He turned his head to face her. His sister’s big blue eyes were filled with sympathy.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he warned.

“She loves you,” Tess said softly. “It’s written all over her.”

“Really? Because what I just saw was her singing me good-bye,” he bit out.

Tess pressed her lips together, then sighed. “I don’t care what she sang. I saw the way she looked at you. That is a woman in love if I ever saw one.”

Dane’s heart skipped a beat. It startled him, how much he wanted to believe his sister. She was rarely wrong when it came to reading him, but she didn’t know Julia. “I don’t think so,” he grumbled.

Tess leaned in and whispered into his ear, “That’s because you’re so in love with her you can’t see clearly. You can always read women! No one knows how to read women like you do. But you can’t read her? There’s a very good reason for that. No objectivity. You’re emotionally invested, and that clouds what you see.”

He scowled and pulled back, shaking his head.

“I’m not wrong,” Tess said, and sipped her ice water with a bit of a smirk.

Dane felt . . . off-kilter. He wasn’t easily thrown, rarely got confused like this—about anything. But least of all over a woman. He didn’t like it one bit. He knocked back the rest of his scotch in two gulps, then raised his hand to catch a waitress’s eye.

 

 

Julia sank back against the cushions of the sofa, exhaling deeply as she kicked off her shoes. When she’d first spotted Dane in the audience with his sister, her heart had stopped for a second. He was there. He wasn’t just going away quietly, that’s what his being there was messaging to her. But she looked at him, so handsome, so sure . . . and at his sister, so regal she almost seemed like royalty . . . and knew she’d never measure up.

She sighed. They were from different worlds. She’d been right to push him away. Before she loved him even more, before they could really hurt each other . . . oh God, she loved him. She really loved him. Just looking at him made her heart ache and throb and pound.

“Earth to Miss Thang,” Kelvin said.

Julia blinked and looked up. Kelvin was standing over her, holding a large white plate. “Eat, missy.” He set the ceramic platter covered with various kinds of cheese and crackers on the table, then sat beside her. “He came tonight.”

“I saw,” she said, shifting to reach for some food.

“He’s here because he wants to see you,” Kelvin said.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“You gonna talk to him?”

She felt her face heat and mumbled, “Probably not,” before jamming a round cracker into her mouth.

Kelvin shook his head, making his dreadlocks sway. “You’re being stupid.”

“Thanks.”

“And unfair. And stubborn. And maybe even childish. And definitely selfish.”

Julia glared at him. “Back off, Kel.”

“Hell no.” Kelvin met her eyes and didn’t flinch. “I saw his face last night. He was in pain for your pain. He cares about you. This isn’t just hot fun anymore, for either of you. He cares. You care.”

Her mouth full, she shook her head violently.

“You can deny it all you want, but I know what I saw last night. You needed someone, and he was there. On his own, because he wanted to be.” Kelvin speared her with a look, but softened his voice. “You push him away, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Don’t you have enough regrets already, sweetie?”

She wanted to shoot back a wiseass remark, but there was one problem. Kelvin was absolutely right. She grabbed another square cube of cheddar and popped it into her mouth, unable to meet his eyes.

“Okay,” Kelvin sighed. “Tonight’s lecture is over. You’ve been beat up enough this week. So I’m gonna let this go for now. But only for now. I’m onto you, woman.” He made a V with his long fingers and aimed them at his own eyes, then hers. “I’m watching you. Too bad if ya don’t like it.”

At his exaggerated gesture, she couldn’t help it—a giggle slipped out. She shook her head. “You’re an ass.”

“You’re a bigger one.”

“You’re probably right.”

There was a soft knock on the door, and the friends glanced at each other.

“Ms. Shay?” came a female voice. “It’s Tess Harrison. I was wondering if I could talk to you for just a few minutes?”

Julia’s eyes widened as she looked at Kelvin and whispered frantically, “Why does she want to talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.” He rose from the couch and went to open the door. “Hi. I’m Kelvin Jones.”

“I know.” Tess smiled and held out a hand. “I really enjoyed your playing tonight. What talent! You’re fantastic. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

“Why thanks.” He shook her hand and ushered her into the dressing room.

Julia was on her feet, trying to squelch the sudden unease threatening to close her throat. “Hello.”

“Hi. I just wanted to . . . um . . .” Tess swept her long, impressive mane of dark curls back from her shoulders. She was dressed in a deep blue pantsuit and heels, and it hit Julia that she’d never realized how tall Tess was. She was looking up at her, like she had to with Kelvin or Dane. Tess’s legs went up to her neck; with the shoes, she was probably six feet tall. “I know this is your break in between sets, and I don’t want to take up your time. Just a few minutes?”

God, she was so polite, so refined. Julia almost felt like she should curtsy or something. But she nodded and said, “Of course.”

“Why don’t I let you two have some privacy?” Kelvin gave a little nod to Tess. “Lovely meeting you, Ms. Harrison.”

“Please, call me Tess,” she smiled. “Lovely meeting you, too.”

Kelvin closed the door behind him, leaving the two women facing each other in silence. Julia wondered what Tess wanted to say. She had an uneasy feeling it wouldn’t be anything good.