SANDRA
“I thought I told you to stay in the car!”
Alex looked at her guiltily. His sweet adorable baby face looked so innocent and guilty all at once. It got her every single time. “But mom… I wanted to say thank you. That man helped us. He didn’t have to.”
“It’s not safe. He told us to stay inside.”
“He was going to leave. We couldn’t not say thank you.”
Sandra sighed. She didn’t want to argue with her son’s kindness, but at eight, he really had no idea what evils the world held. “Buckle up,” she sighed. “I’m going to start the car and we’ll be on our way soon.”
Alex dutifully complied. He fiddled with his seat belt while she crawled back into the driver’s seat. She left her purse and backpack in the back. Sandra tugged her seatbelt, but started when a shadow loomed by her window. The stranger used his knuckles to knock on the glass. She slowly cranked the window down.
“I need to ask you something,” the man said, voice deep and gravelly. There was something familiar about it though, something off- something different than before. He leaned in and brushed his hair away from his face with a large strong hand.
She gasped when he turned, when the streetlight filtered onto his face and allowed her to really see. “Alex?” His name was little more than a breathy whisper. Shock gripped her so hard she felt like she’d just been kicked up against her seat. She sat stunned, mouth open.
“What?” her son asked from the back.
Sandra started. “Nothing,” she whispered. “Stay here this time. Please. Or no farm and you’ll be grounded for a week.”
“Okay,” Alex said meekly. He dropped his head. She felt bad, but she couldn’t deal with the wraith from her past with her son listening in to every single word. He didn’t know. She wanted it to stay that way.
It had to stay that way.
Her hand shook as she gripped the handle. She barely managed to get the lock disengaged and the door open without tumbling onto the pavement. She slammed the door behind her, well aware that the car was anything but sound proof.
“Not here,” she hissed under her breath. “He’s in the backseat.”
It had been nearly a decade. She’d imagined countless times what she’d do if she ever ran into Alex again. What she’d say. She’d imagined a hell of a lot more, truthfully, but there was no time or play for fantasies or memories that she couldn’t control.
He looked… different. Harder. Darker. More feral that she remembered. He was dressed all in black, the leather jacket a cut of the club that he hadn’t yet belonged to when they’d met all those years ago. He chose it over her and even after nearly a decade, it stung. His hair was longer, past jaw length and scraggly in a way that shouldn’t have been sexy. It didn’t have a single gray strand, as if age and time hadn’t bothered with a man like Alex McCray. His eyes were deeper, darker. She used to compare them to rich soft velvet, but any softness that might have been there before was long dead. His eyes were hard and cold. A thick layer of stubble covered his hard jaw. He had features that no amount of hard living could deaden. Sharp cheekbones, a strong brow and nose. He was a handsome man. Unfortunately his sexual aura was still there. He wore it like a mantle around him. The changes that she’d noted, the new darkness, only sharpened the attraction.
Her eyes swept shamelessly over his body, which had always been hard and toned. He was even larger, bigger, broader than she remembered. His broad shoulders tapered to a lean waist and gave way to long, muscular legs. The biker boots were unmistakable. Where had he parked his bike so that she wouldn’t hear the engine? He’d known just how to lean into the car, how to let his hair shield his face, how to disguise his voice. Had he meant to leave without her ever knowing that he’d been the one to help her? Would he have left her, sent her on her way, none the wiser?
With a creak of leather, Alex crossed his arms over his muscular chest. The leather strained against his biceps. “Where then?”
She hedged. Was she really going to do this? Invite Alex over to her house? He’d taken up all that space once, right along with the space in her heart. It hurt to think of letting him back in. She wasn’t ready for this. She’d never be ready. Her heart swelled unexpectedly and she cursed the grain of hope that had never managed to wither and die. Alex didn’t deserve hope. He didn’t deserve any goodwill on her part. He’d left her all those years ago. He’d chosen a life of crime and that fucking club instead of her.
Another creak of leather as he shifted his arms warned her that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“I- uh- I’m going to my parent’s farm for the weekend. They’re expecting us. Monday night? I’ll make sure- that- uh- Alex has soccer right after school. He usually goes to his friend’s house after for dinner. He’s home around seven generally. Come in the afternoon. Around two. I’ll be home.” She finished her shift at the diner at one, since she started at five in the morning. The hours used to be ungodly, but by now, she was used to it. At least her early shift left her the rest of the day to herself.
His already black eyes darkened further as they swept down the length of her body. She ignored the painful heat that bloomed in all the wrong spots. She shifted nervously. She’d worn a pair of old jeans and an old knit sweater. She usually got dirty at the farm. Alex liked to go exploring. She was embarrassed now, under his heated gaze, and it only made her angry to realize that she cared at all.
“Where?”
“You know where.” She closed her eyes. She should have asked him to meet her somewhere else, but like a fool, she’d revealed far too much.
One dark brow arched. “You still live in the same place?”
“Yeah.” She dug a toe of her worn sneaker against the dirty street.
“You’ll answer?”
“Of course.”
His hand snaked out and grazed her chin, forcing her head up. She shivered at his touch and backed away, desperate to put space between them. His lips flattened into a thin line as though he had a right to be offended. Those fathomless eyes stared straight down to her soul.
“You didn’t tell me,” he said, almost softly. Hurt glistened in his eyes.
She shook her head. “I’m not doing this here.” She pressed her lips together to keep from saying all the things she’d imagined hurling at him over the years. That he didn’t deserve to be a father after he’d left her. That donating sperm didn’t make a man a parent anyway. That she’d done just fine without him over the years. That she’d moved on. That even though she tried not to, the memories came to her in her most vulnerable moments. That she still dreamed of him at night.
None of those things were appropriate, so she bit the words back and held his gaze. She didn’t look away, didn’t back down, didn’t give him the crack in her armor he probably wanted to find.
Alex inclined his head. “Monday at two then,” he conceded. She felt it was too easy. She stared at him and he stared back, a battle of wills. He broke first. He glanced away, down the street. “Alright. Best be on your way then. Be sure to check your gas gauge next time. This part of town is no place to get stranded. This piece of shit car never did work right.”
“Yeah- well- thank you. For your help.” It galled her to thank him for anything. She would rather the devil himself had come to save her. It would have been safer to owe Satan a debt than Alex.
He made to walk off, but then turned, his hair sweeping around his face in dark strands. “One other thing. The name isn’t Alex anymore. That person- Alex- he doesn’t exist any longer.” His shoulders rose and fell and she could see how much it cost him. He was right though. Even she could tell he wasn’t the same man she’d fallen in love with, the first and only man she’d given her heart to. “I wouldn’t know him if I met him. It’s Trace. Just- just Trace.”
He walked off down the street without another word. She watched him until he was gone, blended back into the shadows where he’d come from.
Sandra slid back into the car, shaking, rattled, her heart shattered the same way it had been all those years ago. She was right back where she’d started, trying to put the pieces of herself and her life back together.
“Who was that, mom?” Alex asked in a small voice from the back seat.
“No one,” Sandra whispered as she slid her seatbelt on. She turned the key, waited like Alex- no, Trace, told her to. The car started right up. She pulled away and resumed their journey.
The night started off so normal. So painfully, amazingly, wonderfully normal. She wished she could believe that Trace was just a shadow. That he wasn’t actually real. That he truly was no one. Unfortunately, she could lie to everyone, but she couldn’t lie to herself.
Her heart always told the truth.