Taste of Lacey (22 page)

AS IF THE soft
click
brought her out of a trance, Lacey absorbed what had just happened.

Rye was gone.

He was gone, and she’d sent him away.

“Oh God. Oh God,” she wailed. Then she repeated the cry as she tore at her clothes. They were binding her, smothering her. Swath after swath of expensive magenta material fell from her body as she ripped and pulled until she was naked. The more she became exposed, the more it became clear she’d lost the man she loved to her own insecurities. As if demons were chasing her, she ran up the stairs only to come to an abrupt stop and sit in a listless heap on her bed. Rye was gone. Hot, stinging tears slid down her cheeks, and somehow her heart still managed to beat even though it had been jerked from her chest. By her own hands.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, and I don’t want any back talk.” Lacey smiled as she listened to Monica’s “I mean business” voice. “You’re going.”

In the prescribed time, Monica pulled up, and Lacey was waiting outside. Monica shook her head when she took in Lacey’s plain sundress and flat sandals. “You look like a spinster librarian, but at least you’re out of the house,” Monica said, her voice dry.

“Yeah, and you’re taking me away from the
Andy Griffith
marathon I was watching, heifer.”

Monica rolled her eyes. “I don’t care. You’ve been holed up in that house for two solid months, and I’m sick of looking at your pitiful behind. You need some social interaction.”

“Hey, I went to see my parents yesterday.”

“Doesn’t count. You need recreational social activity. Tonight, you are going to have a damn drink and sing some damn karaoke and have a good time, damn it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lacey replied warmly to her cousin. “Who’d you say was going to be there?”

“Kyle and Ally and Micah are saving us seats. Lisa’s not coming because she had a showing and she’s ‘too tired.’ Not that we’re sad about that,” Monica added.

Kyle was doing just what he said he would. Over the past few weeks, he’d made more of an effort to be available for her as she attempted to get over Rye. Every time she thought about him tightened invisible bands around her chest.

“Okay.” That darn Monica. She was a friend to the end. At first she’d given Lacey space to nurse her broken heart, but now she was on a mission to bring her back to the living, and Lacey loved her for it. She buckled her seat belt just as Monica backed out of the driveway.

“I saw him yesterday,” Lacey said as she crossed her legs that were more slender since her recent weight loss. Since she didn’t have to feed Rye anymore, her desire to eat had lessened. Everything she used to find joy in had diminished.

“Rye? Did you talk to him?” Monica asked, her eyes wide, hopeful.

“No. I watched from my room at Mom’s as he helped some blonde into the Jeep,” she said, fighting to keep her voice from wobbling. She imagined being blasted by a hot bowl of grits would hurt less than seeing him with another woman. But what could she say? He was no longer hers. She’d made damn sure of it.

“You know what? I’ve had it. You’ve wallowed in misery long enough, and now you’ve gotta deal with it. This is what happens when you give other bitches an engraved invitation to your man,” Monica groused as she parked. When she got out, she slammed her car door and strolled toward the karaoke bar-slash-dance club they used to frequent.

Lacey followed, acknowledging Monica was right. She’d given Rye away on a platter because she couldn’t get over her self-doubt enough to trust him. He’d moved on like he said he would. She’d be happy for him if it didn’t mean every breath she took resulted in a stabbing pain in her chest. She missed him, but it was too late for regrets.

Before they walked into the popular nightspot, Monica grasped Lacey’s shoulders and looked her in her eyes. “You can always go to him.”

Pain rippled through Lacey. The despair she hauled around was like a tumor: large, worthless, and ever present. “You didn’t see his face, Monica. You didn’t hear the awful things I said.”

“If I knew how to heal a broken heart, I would, but I can only offer a bandage. So for tonight, try to relax and enjoy yourself.”

Lacey hugged her cousin and friend. “I know, and I’m going to try.”

Inside, they eased their way through the throng of partygoers and found Ally and Micah at a table near the front.

“Where’s Kyle?” Monica asked.

“At the bar getting drinks. It’s so packed the servers are taking forever to get around to everybody,” Ally said. Then she turned big brown, sympathetic eyes on Lacey. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Lacey answered, forcing a smile. How she wished her heart felt the same.

RYE COULDN’T BELIEVE his ears when he heard the message from Kyle asking to meet for drinks. They hadn’t exchanged a civil word since their blowup when Kyle had refused to accept his dating Lacey. Since that was a thing of the past, Kyle ought to be ecstatic. Ever so slowly, Rye made his way through the throng of bodies and spotted his childhood friend at the bar.

“What’s up, Bishop?”

Kyle turned in a quick twist, as if surprised to find Rye standing beside him. “How’s it going, McKay? After our last talk I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“It’s all good. No hard feelings,” Rye said, straddling the empty stool beside Kyle. Through the mirror behind the bar, he saw the multitude of people gyrating to the fast-paced music pounding into the walls. They were all so damn happy and energetic. The entire scene made his head throb.

Rye gave the bartender his beer order.

“What’s with the suit, man?” Kyle asked.

“Some of us have to work for a living.”

Kyle looked at his watch. “This time of night? You’re slipping.”

“I’m making a lot of changes in my department.” He would never share with his ex-girlfriend’s brother, who hadn’t wanted them together in the first place, how work was his salvation right now. Pushing through twelve-hour days to get the new department up and running was the only thing keeping him sane.

Kyle nodded. “Congratulations, by the way. Pinnacle is going to bid on the contract to build the simulation center,” he said, referring to the new training facility Rye would manage. “So you and Elly called it quits?”

Rye tried not to blanch at the mention of Lacey. “A couple of months ago. But it’s no less than you expected, right?” he voiced, nursing his beer between his palms. His bitterness could not be helped; he had plenty to spare.

“You doing all right?”

Rye shrugged. “I’ve been better.”

“Hey, I didn’t want either of you to get hurt, but I could see it coming a mile away. I know you, McKay, and you don’t do long-term. And when have you ever stayed with one woman more than a month? You’re just like me. You can’t even spell commitment. Hit and quit. It’s what we do, and we both know she deserves better.”

“With Lacey.”

Kyle frowned and then widened his eyes. “What?”

“You asked when I’d ever stayed with anyone more than a month. Lacey and I were together four times longer.”

Glimpsing again at the smoky mirror behind the bar, Rye stiffened when he saw the next singer taking the stage.
Lacey
. He must have sucked in acid instead of oxygen, because with his next breath his lungs burned like hell. He was caught off guard, having had no idea she was here. Not that she seemed to be experiencing any of the problems plaguing him day and night. Longing, hunger, need, hurt. In fact she looked more beautiful than ever. He couldn’t tear his eyes away when she laughed as she held a microphone up to the man joining her onstage. An animal-like growl threatened when the guy grasped her hand and they began singing “Endless Love.”

Rye remembered Lacey wasn’t his and pushed down his jealousy. He mustered up a semblance of a smile as he tried to contain his pain. “Is this why you invited me? So I could see for myself she’s better off without me?”

“Rye, man, I didn’t know—”

“No worries, Bishop. After all, I’m just a ‘hit and quit’ kind of guy. I don’t know anything about loyalty. Never mind that my parents have been happily married for thirty-six years, and I’ve seen firsthand how a faithful relationship works. I’ve been with the same company for fifteen years—longer than you’ve been at Pinnacle. Oh, and I’ll probably still have the Jeep a hundred years from now. Hell, you and I were best friends going on three decades. But judging by my shaky, unstable past, anyone could see I don’t know a damn thing about commitment.” Rye snorted. Then he turned and searched the crowded lounge so he could see Lacey directly one last time instead of through the smoky reflection of the mirror. She looked happy. Her happiness should be enough for him.

Only it wasn’t. He wanted her with him, but she didn’t want the same.

“I get it. No bastard alive is good enough for her. Especially me,” Rye said as he stood and tossed enough bills on the bar to cover his and Kyle’s tab. Then he navigated through the sea of bodies until he made his way out of the building.

* * * *

“Just a minute!” Lacey yelled as she ran down the stairs. For the past two minutes some deranged person had leaned on her doorbell. Panting from her unexpected brisk run, she turned the locks and pulled the door open until the chain stretched. To her surprise, her mother and Kyle were on her stoop, one bearing a smile and the other seeming to have trouble meeting her eyes. She opened the door and motioned for them to come inside.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Just as she was about to close the door, Lisa bounced up the stairs behind them.

“Oh God, is something wrong with Dad?” Lacey’s heart almost thudded out of her chest at seeing the three together without her father.

“Calm down, baby. Everybody’s fine,” her mother said. “Or will be,” she added with a raised brow as she glanced at Kyle, who had the grace to look embarrassed.

“In case you haven’t figured it out, this is an intervention,” Lisa said before sitting in an armchair and crossing her model-long legs. “We’re tired of you moping around, bringing all of us down. It seems some people invited themselves into your business and shouldn’t have. They now understand you are a grown woman who can make her own decisions, and vow to never let this happen again. Stupid-ass is going first.”

Confused, Lacey sat down slowly on the sofa, stared at the most familiar faces in her life, and waited.

Kyle cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said to Lacey before sitting down next to her on the sofa. “I was a selfish, arrogant bastard. You said I was upset because I thought I was losing my best friend, and you were right. I made this about me, and I shouldn’t have. Rye cares about you, and I should have stayed out of it. I didn’t know how sincere he was about his feelings until the past few days. I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for your forgiveness.”

Lacey’s heart lurched, but she didn’t say a word. Anger warred with sadness deep in her soul. Anger at herself for giving in to the pressure her mother and Kyle had placed on her, and sadness for the heartache she’d experienced while away from Rye. She couldn’t blame them for her actions, but it still smarted to know her brother’s interference was selfishly motivated.

“It’s my turn now,” her mother said. “I’m sorry, baby. I treated Rye less than kindly because of something that happened to someone very important to me a long time ago. It’s taken me a while to understand I need to leave what happened in the past, because it wasn’t my battle to fight. Can you forgive an overprotective mother?” She seemed nervous, a first.

Lacey’s gaze caught her mother’s. “Yes, your experiences happened in the past, but you treated Rye like a leper because of the color of his skin not so long ago. You didn’t raise us to know prejudice, but you behaved horribly.”

Her mother turned away from Lacey and lowered her head. “Please believe that I don’t care if the person you love is banana yellow as long as he loves you. Rye being white was never the real issue; after all, the boy stayed at my house as much as he did his own as a child. My feelings were hurt. You’re always pushing me away, and I just want to be included…and consulted now and again.”

Lacey was still skeptical about her mother’s sincerity. “And you’re sure it has nothing to do with control?”

Her mother’s lips quivered the slightest bit, but Lacey noticed it. “Not if it means losing your respect. Or making you and Rye unhappy. I am so sorry, baby. I plan to ask his forgiveness too.”

Lacey was so overwhelmed with emotion she didn’t know what to say or do. She held her hands to her face and sobbed. All the misery and pain she’d suffered over the past two months poured out through scalding tears. Her mother and Kyle were on either side of her, and she slumped when their arms went around her. Lisa stayed put in her chair. She was sitting straight up and had at least stopped swinging her leg.

Her mother began to talk as she rubbed Lacey’s back. “You have to disregard whatever influence your brother and I had in your decision to end your relationship with Rye. Then you have to decide what you want. If you want to keep breaking my heart and walking around like the shell you’ve been for weeks, fine, but that’s not what the daughter I raised would do. You are a fighter, even if the threat comes from me. But”—she paused—“if you want to go after the man you love, gather your resolve and do it.”

Lacey sat forward once she’d calmed enough to be coherent. “But how, Mom? I was a wretch and basically told him to go to hell. We all know Rye is ten times more stubborn than I could ever be.”

“Maybe this will help,” Lisa said as she stood and handed Lacey a folded piece of paper.

Lacey wiped away tears and focused on the document. When she got to the most meaningful paragraph, her hand flew to her mouth, and she gasped. “You knew about this?” she asked Lisa. “You helped him do this?”

Lisa nodded.

When Lacey saw that the paper was dated one week after her first official date with Rye, the tears flowed again like a rushing river. “I’ve got to see him,” she told them and stood to find her purse and keys. Before she could make it to the door, Lisa grabbed her elbow and turned her around.