CHAPTER TWO

LYNNE

“I don’t care how it appears, mother. I’m not doing it.” My God, I should have asked my therapist years ago to please explain to me how I have the same blood running through my veins as her and my father. I resemble the two of them about as much as absence and presence go together. Which, when it comes to me, the two of them identify better than anyone how vaguely absent my presence has been in their lives for years. They care about themselves. Their appearances. The high-quality communication with the same type of people as them. Liars. Cheaters. Manipulators. Public figures. While me, I’ve lived that life and hated every moment of it.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lynne. It’s one small ribbon-cutting ceremony. After everything we’ve done for you over these past years, it’s the least you can do.” I pull my cell phone from my ear, staring at the device as if I’ve just pulled a cackling hyena out of the side of my head. She’s crazy. Poisonous too. Bitch.

“Excuse me,” I say, befuddled. I should ask her if she needs a session with me. I’d make her pay, and it wouldn’t be with money. It would be with my fist upside her head. “And what precisely have you done for me, mother?” Besides brainwash me into believing true love doesn’t exist. Oh, and let’s not forget that by doing so you’ve killed my soul in the process.” Here it comes. The chalkboard fingernail screeching.

I pull the phone away from my ear before I go deaf. “My God, girl; we’ve done everything for you. Why are you so disrespectful to me? You weren’t raised this way. Let me guess; it has to do with Tyson, doesn’t it. You’re back with him. You will never learn. For Christ’s sakes, Lynne.” God, I hate her. I really do, and that is a horrible thing to say about your mother.

The sting from hearing his name bitterly once again slices through me. I can imagine the sparks going off in her brain. I wish they would fry her skull. Turn it into ashes. She’s playing connect the dots when there is nothing but a blank piece of paper to work with. She’s going to bitch and moan about the damage he caused to their house. Or how he’s still not good enough for me, or the best one of them all, how a man like him will never stand by my side once he knows the truth. The same way she thinks my ex-husband did. Except she’s wrong. Robert knew before we married; it was me who pulled away from him after five years of pretending I loved him. Of trying to forget a face that whispered my name whenever I thought about him. It was daily. Nightly. And every time Robert touched me I wished it were Tyson.

I couldn’t live that way anymore. The truth was slowly eating me from the inside out, carving a painful, permanent scar onto my soul. I was crucifying myself. Killing a man who deserved more out of life. Slowly dying in a faraway place I had no help to claw out of because of them. They put me there. Left me to rot in my own poisonous well of guilt. I hate them.

Marrying someone else was the one way I conjured up in my mind that I could lay my biggest mistake to rest. To try and somehow stop beating myself up. I cared about Robert, but I never loved him. Not in a way a wife should love her husband. He wasn’t him. The only person who accepted me for the woman I was. Tyson would have been there for me. I know he would have, and yet I someone went along with listening to her and my father. It won’t matter if someday I learn to forgive myself; I will never forgive them for putting the doubt in my head in the first place.

My brain kept playing teeter-totter with my heart. One day, I thought it was best to let him go, the next, I wanted to tell him everything, to let him make up his own mind. In the end, my head won and my heart was nowhere to be found.

I knew I lost Tyson the day I left him with a simple note. Telling him we were too young to get married and I had cold feet. Wanted to explore the world. Nothing but lies. Too many of them covered up by my parents. No one knows more than me how shameful I feel. It’s unforgiving.

Only it really wasn’t covered up at all. Somehow, Tyson found out, and now I’m staying in this town to do whatever it takes to get him to listen to me. I just need him to hear me out.

“I’m not discussing this with you. This is your final warning, mother. If you do not stop talking about him as if you are better than he is, then you may as well consider yourself the parent of two daughters instead of three, because I am done. On second thought, I’m done anyway.” I hang up on her before she tries to get the last word in. Trolling conniver.

“Thank you for believing I can succeed on my own, mother. I should have disowned everyone in your perfect little family years ago. Starting today, you and my father will no longer be a part of my life,” I pledge to the walls of my new office. Toss my phone on the desk and spin my chair to stare out the window. All they want is to see their faces in the paper. To pretend we’re the perfect family when we are anything but.

She knows better than to pull this bullshit on me. I’ve warned them all when I first moved here to back the hell off. They still think they can mark me, break me until I have nothing left. If I didn’t hate them as much as I do, I would pity them for being my victims for years. They taught me well.

My darling mother, Ellen Chapman, has dealt her last hand when it comes to being a casualty in her made-up world with her fake marriage to an even phonier man. Now she’s his messenger, dishing out demands to the only one of his three daughters who could give a shit how a person’s image looks to anyone but those who live in their illusional world. Los Angeles. The fictitious city of angels, my ass. More like the city of the devil and his willing advocates.

While my sisters, Larissa and Laney, are both married to high-profile attorneys who work for my father and follow in the footsteps of the high and mighty prestigious LA circle of the who’s who, I simply couldn’t care less. Fuck them all.

I care about my sisters, and we get along, as long as I pretend to play by the rules. Which I don’t. Not anymore.

It’s going to kill me to lose my sisters. I would never put them in the middle of any of this. They’ll choose on their own. And as much as it pains me to admit, it won’t be the right side. They’ve chosen already, Lynne. Were they there for you when your world ended? No, they were not.

They know not to bring up my past or the pain that slices away at my heart over the mess I’ve made of my life. They’ve simply chosen to ignore it. Live in the same circular bubble. Not my parents, though. I really don’t think the two of them know the meaning of letting shit go or showing their love. Hell, I don’t think it’s in their vocabulary or their blood.

Things were somewhat different when I was a child. They were half-way decent parents. I never got the ‘I love you’ or bedtime stories. At least not that I can remember. They simply left me alone.

I always felt like the odd daughter. The black sheep. The only daughter without a purpose in life. Boring, as my father would say. Although my parents doted on my sisters more than they did me, I respected them as much as a child could. It all went to hell when I showed up at our house with Tyson. Good old Richard and Ellen Chapman displayed who they really were. They hated him, and in return, I grew to hate them back. I rebelled against them. Snuck out and dated him anyway. Fell completely in love. And I’ve loved him since.

I was shocked they agreed to pay for my wedding when I told them we were getting married with or without their help. Of course, they didn’t agree out of their happiness for me. It was all for show. For them. Always about them.

“Men are bastards,” my mother would always say. “They can never be faithful or stay true to their marriage vows.” At first, I listened to her rant, but not once did I believe Tyson was like that. He loved me. And then my world fell apart. My life wilted, and somehow, I started to believe her because I was young and in shock over the news that was delivered to me a few weeks before Tyson and I were to be married.

All I could think about was ruining a man’s life. It had nothing to do with him ruining mine. How his dreams would be shredded. His life destroyed and mine shattering over watching him fall because of me.

The lies I’d been fed barely skimmed under the radar separating me from hell. They were big, so big that once I came out of my shell and sought out some heart-wrenching truths, I couldn’t believe my parents could do this to me. To him. Destroying lives while sheltering themselves from a conspiratorial theory that blew my mind. They shattered me.

My father was ten times worse than my mother. If I didn’t know better, I would swear to this day that man prayed for something horrible to happen to make Tyson disappear from my life. He never thought he was good enough for me. Never thought we could make it on a soldier’s salary. Never thought he would hold my hand through the pain. It’s ironic to say my father never once held it, either.

It wasn’t until a few years later when I started college at Yale that I came to the conclusion my news would have destroyed Tyson in the way of worry, fear, and the unknown, instead of the way both of my parents had convinced me of. I grew to despise them both after that. I became cold. Detached. And when they would call me out on it, I explained that after two years of living in darkness, being behind in my education that I deserved to spread my wings, to be on my own. Except, just like them, I learned to use people to my advantage and I needed them to pay for ten years of college, so I could sit in this laid-back office with my degree in psychology. So, I pretended to be fine. Flew back from Connecticut for the holidays as often as I could. Met Robert my sophomore year of college, married him a year later with the finest of fine in attendance. Wore the fancy ball gowns at charity events all the while hating every minute I had to spend with the two of them. I kept it all inside. And now, I don’t have to tolerate their shit anymore. I can tell them to fuck right off. To kiss my ass and stay away from me.

I’ve known Tyson’s whereabouts for years now. Ever since I gained the nerve to look him up. I had to. The not knowing was eating me alive. I lost track of him the day I let him go. I lost myself, too.

Not only did the pain make a reappearance in my soul the day I found out he lived in Santa Barbara, only a few hours from the place I had escaped from, but it also destroyed me all over again. It also completed an already crumbling marriage, a relationship built on lies. I simply did not know how to go on. Robert is a wonderful man. He didn’t deserve the hell I put him through. He took it like a champ, though. Told me we both deserved happiness and to go out and find mine. It’s only taken me several years to do so.

“Lynne,” my secretary Maggie interrupts my thoughts. I turn around to face the fifty-one-year-old woman who’s not only my secretary; she’s my only friend in this town. Maggie lives across the street from me. We met on the beach a few days after I moved in. Became friends instantly when she asked if I minded she brought her two young grandsons over to swim and play on my little strip of the beach. I adore her. She’s the mother I’ve always wished for. A confidante who knows everything about me in the short span of our irreplaceable relationship.

“I’m sorry, Maggie. I just hung up with my mother. I’ll come help you finish putting things away.” I prepare to stand only to have her lean over my desk with a concerned look on her face.

“It’s not that. I’m finished,” she whispers.

“Well, that was fast. Is everything okay?” I enquire. She’s scaring me a little by the intense way her shoulders stiffen and her eyes glare at me as if she expects me to read her mind.

“Jude Westbrooke is in the reception area. He’s demanding to speak with you.” My eyes go wide, and I gulp. Jude is my neighbor. He, like his girlfriend, his son, and all the rest of Tyson’s friends avoid me like the black cloaks of death whenever they see me. I haven’t spoken to the man since I tried to help them when some crazy stalker tried to hurt them. I left shortly after that. Went to stay with my sister Larissa in LA for a few weeks. I didn’t stay for her. I wanted to spend time with my ten-year-old niece, Elizabeth. I then moved into a hotel across town. Remained busy with contractors on remodeling the building I bought for my office. I avoided going back to my new home to stay until I heard Tyson was back. It’s amazing the things you hear while sitting on your porch or balcony with our houses being close enough together. I overheard Jude and Vivian talking about how Tyson had better have his ass back for Riddick’s wedding. I waited until the day before to spend the night there. I hid and watched for him.

Tyson’s lips moved a mile a minute that very same day I left when he said he wanted nothing to do with me. However, his eyes…The ones I have memorized by heart. The ones I can count every tiny golden fleck mixed in with the deep, dark mossy green of his irises told an entirely different story. The man is gutted in the same way as I am. Probably more.

“Send him in,” I bite out. Not directing my negative tone toward her. I’m sure she knows why he’s here right now and it’s not a neighborly visit. He wants to know what’s going on.

Well, I have news for him. He’s not getting anything out of me. Not until I talk to Tyson and explain that at the time, I thought I was giving him a chance to live a life without me being a burden to him. How wrong I was about it all. It’s a life neither one of us can get back. I have no doubt in my mind that is why Jude has shown up here. He wants me to leave and to never come back. He’s in for one hell of a rude awakening. I’m tired of backing down and showing weakness. Whatever he has to say is nothing compared to the hell I’ve been through and survived. He can screw off like the rest of them.

“Alright. Just know I’m right outside if you need me. I like Jude. He’s been nothing but kind to me. However, I’m not afraid to put that man in his place. You stand your ground, do you hear me?” she says, voice carrying loud enough I’m sure he heard her.

“You know I will,” I reassure her with all the confidence in the world. My insides shake as she walks out with a warm breeze only to be replaced by the freezing chills and Jude’s ice-cold stare. He shuts the door behind him, stands firmly in place, and stares me down.

“That intimidating look may work well on the criminals you pick up; I assure you, Jude, it will not work on me. Now, what can I help you with?” Yes, I know that Tyson and his friends are cops. I know everything there is to know about him. He left as planned for the Army shortly after I left him. He’s a womanizer. Sleeps around, drinks, and gets into fights. He’s angry, bitter, and out of control, and it all reflects on me. I’ve studied the symptoms of a broken person. I’m one myself.

I know very little about his time at war. I’m sure some of his anger stems from there. I feared for his life every day. Kept up with the news while terror weighed on my shoulders every second he was deployed. I’m so proud of him for what he’s done with his life. Growing from a young kid with the odds of turning into a criminal stacked against him to a man of honor. A soldier turned cop. I couldn’t ask for a better man than him.

I still haven’t been able to let him go. The man I left lives in the tattered mess of my heart, and I never stopped praying our lives would have been different, that fate wouldn’t have snuck up on me and kicked my feet right out from under me. Stole our chance at happiness. I’ve loved Tyson since the first day I laid my eyes on him. Through time and therapy, I thought I would be able to stop loving him. That there was no way love could be this strong that months, years, and a decade later it would still linger. The precious memories I kept locked away swarmed to the forefront of my mind the minute I saw him again. Stolen kisses, bodies tangled together. Our hearts so full of promises to one another. I broke them all. Broke him. Broke me. I’m here to fix it. Somehow.

I remain calm, matching Jude’s gaze while every cell in my body is a quivering mess. My stomach shifts uneasily and sweat breaks out at the nape of my neck. But I will not falter or allow him to see that his presence is terrifying me.

“When Tyson first told me it was you, I didn’t want to believe it. I prayed for you to disappear, to crawl back under your rock and stay the hell away from him. Now, after seeing what this is doing to him, I’ve changed my mind. Before I get into why I think you owe me an explanation as to what your plans are, I want you to know I’m standing here not trying to intimidate you. I’m here to tell you if your reasons are not legit, I will fucking destroy you.” Good luck. You can’t destroy something that’s already broken.

“I don’t owe you a damn thing,” I snarl. My tone is condescending to my own ears. How dare he waltz in here and demand things of me when I tried to be kind, only to have their noses shoved in the air the minute they found out who I was. I understand why they are all acting as if I don’t exist. The way they all ignored me the night Riddick and Cora were married. They knew I was standing there watching, my eyes glued to the man in the dark gray suit, the lavender tie, and wishing I were there with him. I loved how his dark eyes glistened with the last rays of sunlight angling across his rugged face. The way he slicked back his dark blond hair. The way every step he took on that sandy beach showed off his toned, thick, muscular thighs. His jacket stretched across mountainous planes of muscle on his arms, his back, and down to a rock-hard ass. I loved it all. All except the fact he avoided my stare. Refused to acknowledge my existence.

My words of asking him what this is doing to Tyson are lodged in my throat. Jude isn’t going to give me an answer any more than I’m going to give him one. It’s none of his business as far as I’m concerned.

“That’s where you are dead fucking wrong. Tyson is a mess. You being here is fucking with his head, and now it’s screwing with his job. He’s my friend, my brother, and you’ve hurt him enough. Either you get on with whatever the hell you have planned, or you make it known that you’ll stay the hell away from him, or so help me God, Lynne.”

“So, help you God, what?” I stand, place my hands on my desk, and lean forward. “You’ll drive me out of town? Destroy my reputation? Arrest me? I don’t scare that easily, Jude. There isn’t a damn thing you can do or say to me that will make me run. It’s too late for forgiveness, and I know it. I’m not here to hurt him, and frankly, I really don’t give a shit if you believe me or not. He hasn’t told you a thing, has he?” I’m playing with fire and spitting it in a circle around his feet. It’s a dangerous game to play, and I really don’t care what this smug man thinks of me. I stopped caring about anything except Tyson years ago. Jude and his big bad self can’t hurt me any more than I’ve hurt myself.

I’m taken aback with myself, too. I’ve never stood up to anyone like this before. It must be the day to defend myself.

“No, he hasn’t. For some ungodly reason, he’s protecting you. What is it? Did you cheat on him? Have his baby and put it for adoption?” Oh God, help me. Something inside of me just shattered.

“Get out.” I raise my voice, my body starting to shake profusely. “How dare you come in here and speak to me that way. You don’t know a thing.” My voice is breaking. I need him out of here before I crumble to the floor. He’s getting warmer to the truth, and it’s breaking me wide open. He can’t see me this way. Dissecting me behind his glasses. Not until I’ve told Tyson everything.

“I never cheated on him, and if I were ever to have been fortunate enough to be the mother of his child, I would never give him or her away. Please go,” I say, the chords in my throat straining to keep the strings that hold my voice box from going taut and exposing a high pitch that would shatter glass.

I can’t hold back the ache inside of me any longer. Tears begin to fall. My emotions are cracking and crumbling. He’s protecting me by not telling them. Why? There’s nothing to protect. It’s not his problem. I made sure of it when I left. To him, it should mean nothing.

I sit down before my legs give out. The tears start turning to sobs, burning my eyes, plugging up my nose. I close them, so I don’t have to watch this man gloat. To see the look of satisfaction on his face in knowing he’s broken me. God, how I wish I would have done things differently, that I would have trusted my heart and told Tyson what was going on. I knew I demolished him and I’m doing it all over again. I just can’t walk away. Not this time.

“Here.” I still at the softness of Jude’s voice, open my tightly pinched eyes, and take the box of tissues he hands me. “I apologize for making you upset. I really do. I’m worried about him, and you’re the one with all the answers. I guess what I’m trying to say is, please do something. Whatever is going on is killing him.” God, his plea is destroying me. It’s surfacing every memory I’ve tried to bury.

“Where is he?”