By a Thread
Page 35

He drew back, his golden eyes bright and earnest in his face. He obviously expected me to say something along the lines of how much I'd always wanted him too and how we could pick right back up where we'd left off. But the detective was about to be seriously disappointed - in all sorts of ways.
"Is that all you have to say?" I asked.
His black eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Isn't that enough? I want you. What more is there to say?"
He reached for me again, and I drove my fist into his stomach as hard as I could.
Donovan gasped and stumbled back, grabbing one of the tables for support. He looked at me with a surprised expression on his face, and I knew it had never occurred to him that I would turn him down, that I would say no to him, that I'd fucking gotten over him. But that had always been the problem with Donovan - he thought he was so much better than I was. Maybe he was, but now I realized he didn't have a right to look down on me either. Owen had taught me that by accepting me for who and what I was - knives, blood, and all.
"Gin?" Donovan asked in an uncertain voice.
I stared at him with cold, dispassionate eyes. "First of all, nobody, and I mean no damn body, touches me without my permission, much less tries to stick his tongue down my throat without my consent and express invitation. And second, what you're feeling right now? The sharp ache in your chest? The trouble breathing? That's exactly what I felt when you turned your back on me outside Dawson's mine. Do you remember that, Donovan? Because I certainly do. I didn't expect you to turn cartwheels that day, but it would have been nice if you hadn't been so fucking disappointed that I was still alive and around to tempt you with my wicked, wicked wiles. And then, to add insult to injury, you came to the Pork Pit later on and spelled out exactly how much you didn't want to be with me. How do you think all that made me feel? I'll give you a clue - not good. Not good at all. Now, instead of offering me some sort of apology for the shitty way that you treated me, you expect me to be just as happy to play grab-ass as you are, as though nothing bad ever happened between us."
Donovan rubbed his chest and slowly straightened up. "You're angry, and you have every right to be. I was a fool to act the way I did toward you. I'm sorry for that. Sorrier than you'll ever know. I thought about calling you a dozen times after I left Ashland, but I just couldn't. I knew that if I heard your voice again, I'd be tempted to go back to the city - to go back to you. Now I'm sorry that I didn't call you, that I didn't go back."
I shook my head. "That's where you're right - and wrong too. Yes, you were a fool to walk away from me, but your doing that was the best thing that ever happened to me because it let me find Owen."
Donovan frowned. "Grayson? But you just took up with him because I left town. We all know that."
I raised an eyebrow. "And what? You think that I'm just going to forget about Owen and happily fall back into your arms now because you've finally gotten off your high horse and decided that you want me? Or at least want to fuck me again? Are you really that arrogant, Detective?"
He winced, but he stubbornly lifted his chin. He wasn't going to take back his words because we both knew they were partially true.
"Tell me that I'm wrong," he challenged. "Tell me that you didn't start sleeping with Grayson just because he was there."
"Well, I do have slightly higher standards than that. But yeah, maybe that's how it started out with me and Owen," I said. "Maybe I was lonely and hurting because of you and how shitty you made me feel about myself and what I do. But I love Owen, and he loves me. What we have is real - the forever kind of real. More than that, Owen accepts me for who and what I am. He knows that I'm an assassin, but he's not hung up on it like you always were. Like you still are."
Donovan stared at me, guilt flickering in his eyes, along with just a touch of shame. Yeah, he still wanted me, but he still wanted to keep his conscience clean too, and that just wasn't going to happen. Even if I wanted to, there was no way I could ever stop being the Spider - not now, not after killing Mab. The Ashland underworld was in major turmoil, and probably would be for some time to come, which meant the bad guys were going to keep coming after me. Donovan would just never understand this need that I had to take them on and to try to help all the innocent people I could. He would just never understand that sometimes my way was the only way to help folks - folks like Callie who didn't have the money or darkness inside them to go toe-to-toe with the people threatening them.
It wasn't wrong of Donovan to believe in truth and justice and to want to follow the law and do things by the book. But it wasn't right of him to always condemn me out of hand either, or more importantly, want me to change to suit his ideals so he could feel better about being with me.
Still, for the first time, I didn't feel any anger or rancor toward the detective. Instead, I just felt sorry for him. Donovan was a good guy who wanted the thrill of being with a bad girl. It was up to him to come to terms with that. I wasn't apologizing for myself anymore, especially not to him.
"You have a good thing going with Callie," I said in a soft voice. "She really does love you, Donovan. You should try to make it work with her, but if you can't love her wholeheartedly like she loves you, like she deserves to be loved, like everyone deserves to be loved, then you need to let her go. That's what good guys do, Donovan. They think of people other than themselves and what they want. So you need to man up and walk the walk that you always spout to others."
He didn't say anything, but I could see the conflict, guilt, and shame in his face. He cared about Callie, maybe he even loved her, but here he was, kissing another woman inside his fiancee's restaurant with her standing just outside the door. That wasn't exactly the kind of good, upstanding, honorable guy Donovan wanted to be, but that was his problem now - not mine.
Not anymore.
"Whatever you decide about Callie, I hope that you have a good life, Donovan," I said. "Because I certainly intend to - with Owen."
I stared at the detective a second longer, looking at the planes of his face, remembering everything he'd made me feel, remembering everything he'd once meant to me. Then I put those feelings and memories away forever - finally severing the last thread that had tied me to him for so long.
I turned my back to Donovan the way he'd once done to me and walked away. I didn't look back. I didn't have to. There was nothing for me here.
My future was waiting outside - with Owen.
Chapter 28
I opened the screen door, stepped outside, and rejoined the others. Callie and Bria were standing in the lot, still talking about bridesmaids' dresses and when Bria might be able to come back to Blue Marsh for a fitting, while Finn and Owen were sitting on top of one of the electric blue picnic tables, sunglasses on and faces turned up to enjoy the sun. I walked over to the two of them.
"So how did it go?" Finn asked, looking at me over the tops of his sunglasses. "Did Donovan tearfully proclaim his undying love?"
"Something like that," I said in a mild voice, making sure that Callie couldn't hear us.
"And then what?" Finn asked, his green eyes gleaming. "I want all the juicy details."
"You're such a gossip." I spoke to Finn, but I looked at Owen, who hadn't said a word. "And then I punched the smug bastard in the stomach and told him that I loved Owen. That's what."
Finn grinned. "That's my girl. Always resorting to violence."
I shrugged. "You stick with what works."
Owen got off the table and gently brushed a piece of hair back off my face. "I'll second that."
He leaned down and kissed me, and I felt everything with him that I'd been missing with Donovan - everything I'd always been missing with the detective. Understanding. Concern. Caring. Love.
A minute later, Donovan stepped out of the Sea Breeze, his face carefully calm and blank, the earlier turmoil in his eyes gone, although perhaps not forgotten. He looked at me standing next to Owen, and his face tightened. For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of regret in his eyes. Whatever it was, the detective quickly pushed the emotion aside. He went over to Callie's side and slid his arm around her waist. He didn't look at me again. Good. I didn't want him to.
Callie and Bria finally wrapped up their conversation, and Owen, Finn, and I walked over to where they were standing. Once again, my sister's eyes drifted from me over to Donovan and back again.
"Is everything okay?" Bria asked in a cautious voice. "Are you ready to go now, Gin?"
That wasn't what she was really asking me, and we both knew it. But I had been ready to let go of Donovan for a long time, even if I hadn't realized it.
"Yeah, I'm ready."
She looked at me and nodded. "Good. I'm glad to hear it."
We all fell silent for a moment before Finn let out a long, tired, I'm-so-put-upon sigh.
"Well, I suppose that it's time for me to hand these over again," he muttered.
Finn pulled his car keys out of his pocket and dangled them in front of Bria. "Do me a favor. Try not to get my car smashed up on the way back home, okay?"
That was another reason that we'd decided to stay in Blue Marsh a few more days - so Finn could get his car fixed. The mechanic had finally returned the Aston Martin this morning in what Finn had reluctantly deemed appropriate shape, meaning that everything had been replaced and that he couldn't find any real fault with the car. He had perked up considerably though when he handed me the bill for the repairs. Finn always enjoyed passing the buck like that.
So we were leaving the same way that we'd come down to Blue Marsh. Bria and I were driving the convertible back to Ashland, while Owen was riding with Finn in the Escalade.
"Oh, shut up and give me those already." Bria snatched the keys out of Finn's hand.
Instead of being intimidated by her slightly cross tone, he took the opportunity to draw her close, bend her over, and plant a long, sound kiss on her lips just like he had in the restaurant a few days ago. Finn always liked to be grandiose, no matter how large or small his audience was. After a moment, Bria let out a sigh, wrapped her arms around his neck, and melted into his embrace.
I just smiled.
After Finn and Bria came up for air, the guys said their final good-byes to Callie. Then Finn and Owen got into the Escalade and pulled out of the parking lot. A minute later, they were gone, headed back to Ashland, although I'd see them again before we reached the city. We'd already made plans to hook up at a rest stop between here and there in an hour or so and follow each other back home.
That left me standing outside the restaurant with Callie, Bria, and Donovan. The detective shook hands with Bria, then turned and finally looked at me. His eyes were dark and a little sad too, but I also saw relief mixed in with the other emotions. Donovan might have wanted me, but deep down, he hadn't wanted to wreck his new life with Callie either. Sooner or later, he'd realize that, if he hadn't already.
"Good-bye, Gin," Donovan said in a low, rough voice.
He hesitated, then stuck out his hand, like we were just two casual acquaintances going our separate ways instead of a couple who'd once had an intense affair. Maybe acquaintances were all that we were now. Hell, maybe that's all we had ever really been to start with.
I wrapped my fingers around his and gave his hand a firm, final shake. "Good-bye, Donovan."
The detective's fingers tightened around mine for the briefest instant before I dropped his hand and stepped back. And that was that - Donovan Caine was out of my life once again. But this time, it was by my choosing and on my terms.
Donovan stared at me another second before going back inside the restaurant. I didn't watch him go. I didn't need to. Not anymore.
Bria gave Callie a final hug, and the two women made all sorts of promises about visiting each other and staying in touch, trying to make the moment last just a little while longer. Then Callie turned to me. I was surprised when the other woman held out her arms and hugged me as well.
"Thank you for everything, Gin," she whispered in my ear. "Especially for Donovan and letting him go."
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Perhaps Callie hadn't been as oblivious about the detective as I'd thought. I wondered what she would say to him after I left and where they would go from here. But that was up to them now, and I was out of things - for good.
"You're welcome," I whispered back.
We broke apart. Callie waved at us a final time and then went back inside the restaurant, getting ready to open up for the supper crowd. The familiarity made me smile and miss the Pork Pit. Vacations were all well and good, but I was looking forward to going home and getting back into the swing of things.
And then there were two of us - Bria and I standing outside in the sandy lot where this whole thing had started last week. My sister's eyes traced over the neon blue clamshell sign, the one that spelled out the words The Sea Breeze, and a wistful look filled her pretty face. I walked over to stand beside her.
"I'd understand if you wanted to stay here in Blue Marsh," I said in a soft voice. "I know that it was your home once and that it could be again. That you have a lot of good memories here and that part of you wants to go back into the restaurant and tell Callie you're leaving Ashland and moving back down here for good."
Bria tried to smile, but it didn't come off so well. "Is it that obvious?"
I nodded and drew in a breath, bracing myself. Now came the hard part. Because there was something else I wanted to say to my sister before we left Blue Marsh, something I needed to say, something I'd been thinking about ever since I'd had those dreams about Fletcher leaving me on the mountain so long ago. The old man had taught me a lesson that day, one that I'd half forgotten, but that was still important - maybe the most important thing he'd ever made me realize about myself and what I did.