The One You Can't Forget by Roni Loren
“I can, and I will. You weren’t seeing straight when you allocated the money. You were charmed out of it,” her father said, his tone hard.
“Oh my God, stop it,” she said, pressing her fingers to her temples where a headache was knifing through her brain. “I’m a grown woman. Wes didn’t trick me out of anything. If you know nothing else about me, you know that I’m smart. A guy with a cute smile and a few clever lines isn’t going to turn me into some empty-headed idiot who hands over her bank card. Wes has never asked for anything. He didn’t want the money. He wanted to raise it on his own with the kids. I had to convince him to take it for the program. The whole thing was my idea. And it’s a good idea and a great program.”
“The funding is done,” her father said, dismissing her argument. “And you’re going to drop this case. Right now.”
Rage zipped up her spine like a line of firecrackers. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Rebecca,” he warned.
“You can take the program funding,” she said, the words like bullets. “I can’t control that, but you can’t make me drop a case. That’s my call.”
Her father’s face went even redder. “If you take it, I will let you go from the firm. No partnership and no job.”
An icy chill splashed over her, like she had tumbled backward and landed in cold water. No partnership. No job. All her work to get to where she was at the firm gone. She breathed through the rush of panic and put a firm picture of Steven’s anguished face in her mind, his desperate need for help when he’d put that gun to his head. “Then I’ll start my own firm.”
Her father pointed a finger at her. “Don’t play poker with me, young lady. I will not sacrifice the reputation of my firm and this campaign so that you can take on some pet project for your boyfriend.”
Her fists clenched. “Are you hearing yourself right now? This is not poker or some game. I will walk. You know I can. You’ve always pushed me to be the best. Well, mission accomplished. I have the money, the reputation, and the skills to do this on my own. You can’t force me to give in.”
“I don’t want to, Rebecca, but I can. And I will do it if you force my hand, because it’s what’s best for you. You are flushing everything you’ve worked for down the toilet right now for nothing,” he said, his tone deadly. “I knew early on that you had a piece of your mother’s impulsiveness in you, a part of her reckless personality. I did everything I could to train it out of you, but some things are rooted deep. I will not stand by and let you ruin everything like she did. You will not destroy all that you’ve worked for, all you have, for a whim. For some tattooed punk who can’t give you anything but a broken heart and an empty bank account down the line. By the time your mother realized her mistake, her exciting boyfriend had dumped her with nothing to her name. She had to crawl to me for help.”
A hard jolt went through Rebecca. “What?”
She came back?
“She wanted it all back. Her life with me. The stability. The money. You. But it was too late. There is no coming back from mistakes like that. I gave her money and told her to leave us be. But if she had controlled that impulsive urge when she met Mr. Excitement, she’d have her family now, a good life. I will not let you turn out like her.”
Rebecca’s eyes swam with tears, and Wes grabbed her hand. She didn’t know if she was devastated, angry, or both. “She came back? How could you keep that from me? She was my mother.”
“I did it for your own good. And I’ll do that again if you don’t come to your senses on this case. I don’t want to do this. I’m asking that you don’t put me in this position.”
A loud buzzing had started up in her ears. I don’t want to do this. He’d been making threats. She’d thought he only meant the loss of her job, but something about the way he’d said it made cold dread go through her. “What position?”
He gave her a grim look. “If you don’t drop this case, you’re going to force me to go to the press with an explanation of why you have such a bleeding heart for a young criminal.”
Rebecca choked, the floor feeling like it was tilting beneath her feet. “Dad…you…”
He reached out and put a hand on her knee, his gaze earnest. “Despite what you may think right now, this is the last thing I want to do. I love you. Everything I have done your whole life is because I love you and want what’s best for you. I don’t want to hurt you. But you’re not seeing reason. You’re going to mess up your life.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me,” she said, the words spilling out. “Just to save your campaign. You wouldn’t.”
“No, I wouldn’t. Not for the campaign. I would do it to save you. All you have to do is drop the case and cut your ties with this program. Then no one else ever has to know. The press will go away. You can go back to your normal life. A life you seemed to be happy with not that long ago. If you get your head clear and sit down and think about it, you’ll see how obvious the decision is. This is not a hill worth dying on. Some other lawyer will take this kid’s case and do fine.”
The words were a cyclone in her head, the emotions muddying up her thoughts. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. Panic pushed at her frayed composure, threatening to overtake. “I—”
“She’ll consider it and get back to you,” Wes interjected.
She turned her head sharply, and the room spun a little.
Wes gave her a pointed look. “Rebecca has been up all night and under a tremendous amount of stress. This is not a good time to be making decisions. Nothing is going to happen with the case for a little while. You both need to take a break from this conversation and talk in a day or two. Right now, emotions are running too high.”
Her father harrumphed. “So you can get ahold of her and rally her to your side?”
Wes’s teeth clenched, and he turned to look at her father. “Your daughter broke things off with me yesterday, so the magical spell I put on her has apparently worn off. I must not have put enough eye of newt in the cauldron,” he said, the words barbed. “But your daughter is exhausted and has been through hell in the last twelve hours. You are making it worse. So maybe save the blackmail for after she’s gotten some sleep and a little food in her.”
Her father stood like someone had poked him with a cattle prod. “Blackmail—”
But Wes wasn’t getting interrupted again. He got to his feet, using the three inches of height he had over her dad to full effect. “And you, Mr. Lindt, also need to step away from this because my guess is you really do love your daughter. But you’re about to set fire to that relationship and burn it to the ground. I don’t think that’s what either of you wants. So whatever your agenda is, whatever reasons you’re giving yourself for giving her this ultimatum, maybe think about if that’s worth losing your only kid over.”
Her father’s face went full red, but his attention jumped to her.
Rebecca stood and held her ground despite everything imploding inside her. “Wes’s right. I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Rebecca—”
Rebecca reached for Wes’s hand, needing something to anchor her. He took it and gave hers a squeeze, a simple reassurance that made her feel less alone. She didn’t know where she and Wes stood at this point relationship-wise, but in that moment he was exactly what she needed—a friend.
She gave her dad one last look, and she and Wes walked toward the back of the station, escaping it all.
For now.
But she knew it was only temporary. She couldn’t run far and fast enough. The past had dogged her all her life, breathing down her neck, nipping at her heels. She’d worked hard to stay one step ahead.
Now, she’d finally stumbled.
The monster had finally caught up, and it was out for blood.
chapter
TWENTY-EIGHT
Wes pulled into Rebecca’s driveway, the rock music station on low and
She’d given him a grateful look and laid her head back against the seat, closing her eyes. Two stoplights later, she was sleeping.
Wes turned off the engine and climbed out of the truck. When he opened her side, he gave her shoulder a gentle shake, but she didn’t open her eyes. She’d fallen into that deep sleep a body demanded when it’d been kept up for too long under intense stress. He didn’t want to jolt her out of sleep, so he took her keys from her purse and headed up to the house to unlock the door and thanked the universe that she hadn’t set her alarm. He let Knight out into the backyard so the dog could relieve himself and not disturb Rebecca with a happy welcome. Then, once Wes got back to the truck, he slipped his arms beneath her and carried her inside.
She stirred a little at the movement and nestled her cheek into his shoulder, taking a deeper breath and releasing a small contented sigh as if she liked that spot against his body, as if it settled her. He knew she was sleeping and her reaction was an unconscious thing, but it kicked up a dust storm of yearning in him. He wanted her there against him. He didn’t want to give that up. He wished he could rewind time and go back to yesterday and have a do-over.
Wes carried her to her bedroom, set her on the unmade bed, and slipped off her shoes. When he was pulling the sheet over her, her eyes fluttered open. “Wes?”
“Yeah, lawyer girl,” he said quietly. “It’s me. I’m just getting you to bed. You need some rest.”
“You’re always trying to get me in bed,” she said sleepily.
He smiled, that little glimmer of the Rebecca he knew giving him some comfort that the last twenty-four hours hadn’t completely crushed her. “This time it’s only for rest.”
She mumbled something else, but he couldn’t understand it. Within seconds, she was fast asleep again. Knight wandered in and, after giving Wes a sniff, jumped up on the bed with Rebecca like he’d always slept there. He curled up next to her and put his chin on her hip.
“You gonna keep an eye on her, big guy?”
Knight licked his chops and gave Wes a look that seemed to say, As if I’d do anything else. She’s my person. This is my new gig.
Wes gave the dog a head scratch and gave Rebecca one last long look. Then he left the bedroom, closing the door a little behind him but leaving a crack in case Knight wanted to go back in his kennel. Wes knew the proper thing to do would be to leave, to lock the house and tuck her key under the mat or something, but then he imagined Rebecca waking up and all the shit she’d had to deal with in the last twenty-four hours descending upon her like a hurricane.
He would rather be here in case she needed anything. Plus, he’d been up for over twenty-four hours and probably was not safe to drive. If she wanted him to leave, she could tell him that when she woke up. For now, he trudged over to her couch, grabbed a blanket off the back of it, and stretched out to grab some sleep.
When his eyes opened, Wes thought he’d just been out for a few minutes, but the room was dark and the scent of vanilla was filling his nose. He blinked a few times to clear his head and then rolled over, finding Rebecca sitting in the nearby armchair, her hair damp and her body wrapped in a robe, a mug clasped in her hands. The whole room smelled like her freshly showered scent.
He pushed himself up to a sit, trying to clear the cobwebs. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I must’ve crashed hard. What time is it?”
“Just past nine,” she said, her voice quiet. She set the mug of whatever she’d been drinking on the side table. “I’m sorry. I had to let Knight out. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Just wanted to stare at me while I slept like a creepy kid in a horror movie?”
Her lips twitched at the corner. “Yeah. I’m weird like that.”
He ran a hand over his hair, trying to tame his bedhead. “I hope you don’t mind that I crashed here. I was worried I was too tired to drive.”
She tucked her legs beneath her and grabbed another mug off the side table. She held fresh coffee out to him. “It’s decaf.”
He took the mug from her and took a long sip. “Thanks.”
“And I’m glad you stayed. Not just because you shouldn’t be on the road,” she said. “I still owe you a conversation. I was sitting here trying to think of how to go about that.”
He warmed his hands on the mug. “Bec, you don’t owe me anything.”
“That’s not true.” She reached down and grabbed the remote control from somewhere beneath her. She clicked the TV on but left it on mute. “What happened last night is all over the news already. I’m not going to have much time to figure this all out, but thank you for getting me out of the police station this morning. My dad… I was blindsided.”
Wes pushed the blanket off and glanced at the news on the screen. Police officer shot by son, stable condition was the headline along the bottom of the screen. “Anyone would be. That was…insane. Your dad is intense.”
“I’m sorry for all the things he said to you,” she said, her voice catching. “And I’m sorry about losing funding for the program.”
He looked back at her.
Tears shined in her eyes. “You’re going to lose a restaurant again. And the kids are going to lose—”
He set his coffee down and got up, crossing the room in two strides and then crouching in front of her. “Hey, none of that, okay? I’ll survive. The kids will survive. It’s not over, just…delayed.”
“But they were so excited,” she said miserably. “You were so excited.”
“We were, but we can get there again. We at least know what our goal is now. We can fund-raise, find investors, whatever it takes. And I’m going to put my own money I’ve been saving into the project, too. I’d been planning that anyway. We’ll still get a food truck built. It will just take a little longer.”
A pang of loss went through him at the thought of the project slipping through their fingers, but unlike the first time, that didn’t feel like the end of the world. The kids in his program were scrappy. He was scrappy. They would figure it out, and it would get done somehow. Even if it took years. He would make sure it happened.
“I don’t want to mess things up for you,” Rebecca said, pain in her voice. “Please don’t let this derail you. You’ve come so far, and if…”
He reached out and brushed her hair away from her face. “Hey, I’m solid.”
“You were at a bar last night.”
“I was,” he agreed. “I ordered a drink and didn’t take one sip. And, believe me, if I managed not to take a drink last night, I promise you I can handle this.”
“But you were there,” she said as if that explained everything. “Why?”
“Because going there was like muscle memory,” he said with a sigh. “I was upset and hurting. I’d lost something important to me, something I hadn’t even realized I wanted.” He looked at her. “I’d lost you right as I realized I was falling in love. I didn’t know if I could take that sober.”
He hadn’t meant for the words to come out quite that honest, but once they passed his lips, he felt something release in his chest, a tightness easing. Regardless of how she felt about him, it felt good to get those words out.
Her gaze jumped to his, a startled look there. “Wes…”
“I’m okay, Bec,” he said gently. “I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty or expecting you to say something back to me. You told me what this thing between us was supposed to be up front. I’m the one who changed the rules of the game on you. I’m just telling you that I’m not a man on t
She stared at him and then shifted out of the chair and slid down to sit next to him on the floor. “Only you could spin me acting like a lunatic into me doing you a favor. What is wrong with you, Wesley Garrett?”
“Many things, I’m sure.” He scooted over, giving her room, and forced himself not to put his arm around her. He looked over in the flickering light of the TV.
Rebecca was staring at the screen with a tense expression, lips pressed into a line, hands clasping a throw pillow like a life raft. “I never wanted to hurt you. I… You have to know that this has been more than a fling for me, too. We both changed the rules. But I don’t even know why you’re still here after what you heard.”
“Bec…”
“My father will tell everyone. If I don’t give in to him, he’ll stick to his word. He doesn’t make idle threats.”
Wes watched her carefully, treading lightly. “Tell them what exactly?”
She pulled the pillow closer to her, her fingers working the piping around the edge. “That I’m a hypocrite and a liar. That I’m a horrible person.”
He frowned. “Bec—”
“Don’t.” Her eyes were red-rimmed, but no tears had fallen yet. She looked down at the pillow again. “Just let me get it out. You’ve heard enough. You might as well hear all of it.” She rolled her lips inward, her expression taking on a faraway quality. “In high school, I was…intense. Like I told you, all my focus was on getting the top grades and making my transcript for college look stellar. Achievement equaled love in my house, so I ended up craving it like an addict. I needed the A’s. I needed to be editor of the paper. I needed to be student council president. The last one was the hardest because I wasn’t naturally outgoing or beautiful, which made a popularity contest a challenge.”