Second Chance Summer (Chance Series, #1) (19 page)

I don’t say a thing. I’m still trying to catch my breath. He sure knows how to give the word “breathless” a whole new meaning.

He raises an eyebrow. “We’ll work on that.”

“We will?” I squeak out.

“We will.”

 

~

 

I slide out from Reese’s arms, careful not to wake him, and dress quickly. I silently open the door to the den and tiptoe up the stairs. The only light guiding me is the moonlight coming through the window, and I use that to navigate my way to the back door even though I don’t need to. I know this house like the back of my hand.

The night in Alabama is much cooler than the day, and I sigh happily as a cool breeze circulates me. Grass tickles between my toes as I walk toward the lake, admiring the reflection of the moon and the way it glistens across it. Owls hoot above me in the trees, and crickets chirp all around. I’ve been to this lake a thousand times at night, but never has it been like this. Never has it felt so peaceful, so serene.

I lower myself to the ground, looking out across the water. The stillness of it is the complete opposite to the frantic rambling of thoughts in my head – thoughts I have yet to make sense of…

Pregnant. Dad’s girlfriend is
pregnant.
Nineteen years after having me, he’s doing it all again. Why? That’s crazy. Who would want to be forty-something and changing diapers? Unless of course, the diapers you’re changing belong to your grandchildren, then that’s different. But this isn’t. Dad has another twenty years of a kid putting dirty handprints on the wall, slamming doors and generally raising hell.

I shake my head. Getting married – that I can swallow. I mean, we all have to move on, right? My parents are never getting back together, so a divorce is natural. I’m surprised it’s taken this long, especially in light of the reason they split up. But having a baby? That’s something completely different.

The only consolation is that he isn’t marrying – and procreating with – a girl not much older than me. Deeann, or Dee, is thirty something with her own house and a job, I remind myself. Again. And again. And again.

I just can’t help but think it’s not much of a consolation.

I feel like I need to scream. Like I need to let it out and take the world down with me in my frustration with my fucked up life.

So what if a few weeks ago my life wasn’t perfect? So what if a few weeks ago I was making the dreaded trip back to Alabama with a still-broken heart?

I made that change – I changed that situation from fucked-up to as good as I could make it.

I didn’t make this change. I didn’t want this damn change.

I didn’t want anything coming in and rocking my world. Reese Pembleton is enough of a world shaker-upper without my Dad joining in.

A familiar body drops behind me, legs stretching to the sides with mine, and my back presses against a hard stomach. Reese rests his chin on my shoulder and wraps his arms around my stomach, holding me. I rest my hands on top of his and turn my face into him, sighing again.

“What are you doin’ out here?” I whisper.

“Makin’ sure you don’t run away,” he grunts, squeezing me.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” he responds. “I’m just messin’ with you, baby.”

“I should have guessed.” I poke his arm. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. I knew you’d gotten up, and when you didn’t come back, I came after you.”

“How did you know I was up?”

He runs his nose across my cheek. “Kia, if I’m certain of anything, it’s that you were made for me. I know when the girl that holds my heart in her hands has left the arms I promised would always protect her.”

I swallow hard and curl my body into him. I rest my head against his chest, feeling his heart beating under my ear, and curve one of my hands around his side, tangling my fingers up in his shirt. He presses his lips to the top of my head, then rests his cheek there.

“I just needed to think and try to make sense of what happened today, but it just doesn’t make any.” Even though I told Reese what happened with me and Dad after his shower, I wasn’t ready to talk about how it makes me feel, so we skipped that part. Now, apparently, I’m ready.

“It’s a pretty big pill to swallow. It’s not like it’s somethin’ you hear every day,” he says. “I don’t think it’ll make sense to you for a long time.”

“If ever,” I mumble into his chest. “And they live in New York. How could I live there for a year and never know? Never even have an idea?”

“They could have lived in the next town over and unless someone told you or you saw them, you’d have no idea.”

“Okay, that’s a fair point,” I acquiesce. “I just… it’s too much. I don’t know what to do or what to say.”

“I don’t think anyone expects you to know.” Reese runs his fingers through my hair in a soothing motion, calming me. “I don’t think anyone expects you to do anything, Kia. What they all expect is for your mom to step up and take responsibility for what she did now the truth is out.”

I snort. “Right. Can you honestly see her doing that? The only responsibility she takes is the one that requires her to fill her glass once it’s empty,” I finish sadly.

“Kia…”

“It’s true, Reese. She doesn’t care about anything other than that. I can’t count how many times I’ve picked her off the floor and put her to bed. Or even how many times I’ve carried her upstairs, wiped her sick from her face, her hair, her clothes. I had to grow up before everyone else. I had to become the parent, and that’s exactly how it was until I left. I was the parent and she was the helpless toddler that needed me. That’s just the way it was. The way it is, even. Nothin’ has changed. Nothin’
will
change. If anything, Daddy coming back will just make her worse. She’ll just go another ten feet under the vodka bottle and drown herself in the spirit. I’m not stupid. I know how the story goes.”

Reese sighs heavily and pulls me in even closer to his body, if that’s possible. His arms and fingers tighten their grip on me until I really do believe he won’t let go.

“I wish you didn’t have to deal with that,” he whispers into my ear. “I wish it wasn’t such a normal part of your life that you just accept it the way you do.”

“I have no choice but to accept it. I can’t change it. She has no desire to change, no desire to get help, and you can’t help someone that doesn’t want it.”

“And I wish you weren’t right.”

“It comes with being female.” I smile against him, and we fall quiet as we listen to the sounds of the night.

Until the need to explain to him tugs inside me. The need to explain why I really left – the need to do the opposite of what my parents did to me. I tighten my grip on him even more as I realize I was never really running from him. Fear may have fueled me, but our relationship wasn’t the trigger. He wasn’t what made me skip town, and it was only the fear of seeing him with another girl that stopped me coming back.

It’s shallow, but it’s the truth. There are so many times you can lie to yourself before you run out of lies – and I’ve exhausted mine. It doesn’t matter how many stories I spin because the truth will always be there, lurking under the surface, ready to break through.

“It was her, you know?” My voice breaks through the silence.

“What was?”

“She was why I left.”

“Kia, baby. You’re back now. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

I push myself up so I’m looking at him. “It matters to me. It matters to me that you know you weren’t the reason I left. She was. You have to understand that, Reese. When I got home after we, you know…” I blush. “She was passed out on the floor in the middle of the living room. It was the fourth time that week. I broke. I’d had enough of looking after her, and what had happened between us scared me, and seeing her there straight after? I thought I was on the road to self-destruction by just falling in love with you. So I ran. I shouldn’t – I should have stayed and talked to you, but my bags were packed and ready to go, so I just left. I drove instead of waiting and catching my flight a few days later. It was impulsive and stupid and I wish I could change it. But it was never you. I never wanted to leave you.”

He brings his hands up to cup my face, and moves our faces together. “Then it’s a good job you don’t have to anymore, ain’t it?”

My lips curl at the sincerity and rawness in his voice. “I guess so.”

“Are you ready to go back instead? As lovely as it is out here, my ass is numb, and I’d much prefer you in my arms in bed instead. Preferably naked.”

“You really know how to ruin the moment.”

“I’m a guy,” is his only explanation as he stands us up and leads me back to the house. “Wait, you were ready to come back in, weren’t you?”

“Yep.” I lean into him. “I’m ready.”

CHAPTER 13

 

Momma’s been home.

The empty bottle on the kitchen side tells me that, even if it’s the only indication of her coming back. I grab it and throw it into the trash, the smashing of the glass sadly therapeutic. If I could get away with it, I’d do it to all of them. I’d watch every bit of alcohol drain down the plughole and smash every single damn bottle in this house.

In fact, I might just do that before I leave at the end of the summer.

God. I’m turning into a bitch. I guess the truth will do that to you.

My eyes comb the kitchen for any sign of a note from her. Nothing. What did I expect? A groveling letter? An elaborately handwritten apology?

No, I won’t get anything. I won’t even get a simple apology for the years of lies and deceit. She’s stuck in her alcohol induced world, doing god knows what, god knows where.

And it’s harsh. It’s so, so, harsh, but I don’t even know if I can bring myself to care anymore. I don’t know if I can bring myself to respect her enough to run after her. I can’t spend any longer holding onto a withering hope that she’ll kick the habit, that she’ll be the mom I once knew.

She’ll never be the mom she once was, and I’ll never have the respect for her I once did.

I walk through the house aimlessly, and it hits me just how empty it is. Not actually empty – it’s full of furniture and knick knacks, full of books and food – but there’s no feeling here. With the removal of every photo including Daddy came the removal of memories, of love, and of happiness. The only place those feelings linger are in my bedroom, and that’s only because my heartbroken thirteen year old self rummaged through the trash to get the pictures back.

With the removal of the pictures, the house became little more than an empty shell, void of laughter and all the little things that make life, life.

With the removal of the pictures, my dreams shattered. My ideas of a fairytale romance were torn apart, and my heart was hardened. A wall built itself up around it, and I became the cynical person I was just weeks ago.

And now, staring around the front room, I can see what my life would have been had Reese not pushed on, had he not kept up the chase.

I wouldn’t have been happy. I wouldn’t have been safe or protected, or even alive. I wouldn’t have known what it was like to give yourself over to someone completely and utterly, and I wouldn’t have known what it was like to feel those butterflies in your stomach.

One day, Reese might break my heart. One day, I might find myself in a room like this. I might find myself alone and distraught, sinking into my own vice for comfort, but at least I’ll know what it is to love.

I’ll know what it is to give in to everything and let life take you where you’re meant to be. I’ll know what it is to let my heart take over.

Because, really, all love is, is throwing caution to the wind and holding onto the beautiful feelings that blow back.

 

~

 

“You’re back then.” Her words are sharp. Bitter. Hard.

“I could say the same to you.” So are mine.

I look up to the doorway, and her icy eyes look back at me.

“I don’t like that you disappeared without telling anyone where you were goin’.”

“I don’t like that you lied to me for six years and stopped me from seein’ my dad. I guess life is tough like that, huh?”

Her lips thin. “Don’t speak to me like that, Kia James. I did wrong, but I’m still your mama, and you won’t talk to me with that attitude. You’ll use a bit o’ respect.”

I snort and shake my head. “Respect? That’s funny, Momma, comin’ from you. Respect is earned, not given just because of who you are. I have respect for you as my mom, but not as a person. You haven’t done anything to earn that. My respect is better saved for someone who deserves it,” I finish quietly.

I know I probably shouldn’t be saying this. She is my mom, after all, but a painful truth is better than a soothing lie.

And I won’t soothe her with my lies anymore.

“And that gives you the right to disappear without tellin’ anyone where you were goin’?” she asks.

“If you tried hard enough, you probably could have found out. Besides, you ain’t exactly been around the last few days, have you?”

She strolls through the kitchen, her blonde hair swinging over her shoulders, and steps outside to light a cigarette. She drags on the white stick for a few seconds, looking out at the yard as she blows out a stream of curving smoke.

“I been workin’, Kia. Gotta keep you alive, ain’t I?”

I swallow my contempt and let her continue.

“Someone’s gotta, kid. It’s busy down at Denny’s right now, so he’s given me a few extra hours.”

“Or the reason you ain’t at home is because you’re drinkin’ your wages away down at the bar after your shift.” The words I didn’t mean to say out loud slip out, and I clap my hand over my mouth.
Shit.

Momma glares at me as she drags on her cigarette again. Her gaze shoots daggers at me, but I hold it. Her silence tells me everything I need to know.

I’m right.

She’s drinking her wages away down at the bar after her shift, a luxury she can afford because Daddy paid the house off outright before he left.

She drops the butt of the cigarette on the porch and stamps it out. Her heels click on the tiled floor as she storms back across the kitchen and upstairs. I sit in silence, apart from the tapping of my fingers against the table.

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