One More Chance
Page 3

She walked up the steps and turned to look at me with the concerned frown of a mother. A mother I’d never really had. “You trying to worry me, girl?” she asked, studying me closely.
I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. I just haven’t been hungry, and I need to be alone.”
Her frown lines increased. “You been up here crying is what it looks like to me. Crying ain’t good for you, your heart, or that baby. You gotta snap out of this. If you’re crying over that Carter boy, then call him. Talk to him. You need the full force of your strength and willpower if you’re gonna do this, girl. You can’t be depressed and ready to give up.”
I hadn’t thought about that. But talking to Grant meant I could no longer protect him. “This will terrify him. I’m trying to keep him safe from this. His greatest fear in life is losing someone he loves.”
Maryann put her hands on her h*ps and rolled her eyes. “You have got to be kidding me. Is that boy so much of a wimp that he can’t handle life? If he’s a real man, he’ll step up and be the rock you need right now. If he can’t do that, then he ain’t worth your time.”
She didn’t know how broken Grant had looked when he’d found out about my heart. He was a wonderful man who had trusted me. I had kept something from him that would have spared him from getting hurt. If I had just told him about my heart the day he showed up in my room with Chinese food, he never would have risked this. He would have been safe. I wouldn’t have known what it felt like to be held by him or touched, but he would be safe. His heart would be safe. I’d selfishly taken that choice away from him.
“He deserves more,” I told her. That was all I could say.
“To hell he does. If he won your love, then he won the lottery. You hear me? He’s a lucky man. Nothing else matters. You’re a beautiful, smart, loving, pure woman who lights up the people around her.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “Thank you.”
Maryann loved me like a mother would. Growing up, she had been a great stand-in, though my mind sometimes wandered to what life would have been like under different circumstances. Until recently, I had believed my mother died in an accident. A few months ago, I discovered she was alive in a hospital in Los Angeles, though mentally vacant and incapable of most basic functions. When the media discovered the secret, they also discovered me, which was why my face was spread across TV screens throughout America.
She walked over and sat down on the swing beside me. “Don’t thank me for being honest. Just calling it like I see it.”
I often wondered how someone like Maryann could have gotten mixed up with my dad. She was so real. So full of life and so smart. The man she had spent most of her life with made sense. They fit. But Maryann and Kiro were a hard couple to imagine.
“You’re tough, you’re strong. You always have been. Even as a baby, you were so determined. Kiro adored you, but now you know he worshipped your mother. She was his light. She found the man inside no one else had ever seen and drew him out. Watching him with her amazed me. I couldn’t hate her. In fact, I admired her. She was such a sweet soul, just like you. I see her in you so much. So does your dad.” She stopped and squeezed my knee. “If you want this baby, then I believe you can do it. I believe you’re strong enough. I’ve seen that strength throughout your life, and I think you can do it, but you have to embrace it. Don’t let pain and fear control you, or you’ll lose.”
I let her words sink in and realized she was right. It was time I got strong. My baby needed it. And I needed to be strong for all of us.
Grant
“This is the fifty-seventh message. Fifty-seven days. I’m sitting here staring out at the Gulf, like I used to do with you. Nothing is the same without you here. I can’t even go near the bar in my kitchen. Remembering what we did there is too difficult. Everything reminds me of you. If I could hear your voice tonight, Harlow, if I could just hear you tell me you’re OK . . . I would be better. I would be able to take a deep breath. Then I’d beg. I would beg you to love me. I would beg you to forgive me. I can’t—”
BEEP
I stood on my balcony staring out at the water as voice mail cut me off, then disconnected the call. Watching the waves crash over the shore used to comfort me. Now they reminded me of the fear that had started all of this. The fear that had made me say words to Harlow that she didn’t deserve to hear.
Losing Jace had marked me deeper than I realized. You live your life never once thinking that when you walk away from a friend or loved one, you might never see him again. Drowning in the Gulf was the last way I expected to lose a close friend. It was unexpected and tragic, and it had changed everything for me.
I had wanted to protect myself from that kind of pain in the future. Moving on and living normally after that was impossible. Bethy, Jace’s girlfriend, was proof of that. She was like a ghost now. She never smiled, and she rarely spoke. The happy gleam in her eyes was gone. I hated being near her. I hated being reminded of what could happen to all of us. She wasn’t living without Jace—she was just surviving.
I let the hand holding the phone to my ear drop to my side, then tucked it into my jeans pocket and turned to go inside. Away from the water that had changed everything for me, that had changed the lives of all of Jace’s close friends. None of us would ever be the same again. But I knew that I couldn’t protect myself from that kind of pain. Because, like Bethy, I was just surviving now. With Harlow gone, I had no reason to smile. The pain was too much. Trying not to love her was impossible—it shattered me and brought me to my knees.
My phone started ringing, and I quickly jerked it back out of my pocket. Every time it rang, my heart started beating with the hope that it was Harlow. Rush’s name appeared on the screen. As much as I wanted to smash my phone against the wall in frustration, he was still my only link to Harlow.
“Yeah,” I said, closing the door and walking to my bedroom.
“I need your help. Meet me at the club as soon as possible. I’m headed that way now.”
I wasn’t going to the club. It was time for my nightly routine, and I didn’t want to face people. “Why? I’m exhausted.”
Rush muttered a curse. “Get your ass to the club. Tripp showed up, and apparently Bethy was at the bar drinking too much, and now she’s yelling at him and saying all kinds of crazy shit. Blaire wanted to go, but Nate isn’t feeling that great, and he wants his momma. I told her you and I would check things out and bring Bethy back to my house.”
Bethy and Tripp? That didn’t even make sense. Why would Bethy be yelling at Tripp? Jace had adored his cousin. Always had. There was no reason in my mind why Bethy should be mad at him. “OK. Yeah, I’ll see you in a few.”
“Thought so,” Rush replied, then ended the call.
No one had seen Bethy do much more than move quietly through life since Jace’s death. But she was drinking at the club? That didn’t make any sense, either. She worked there as a cart girl. Why was she drunk at the bar? Her aunt would fire her ass without blinking an eye if she found out. Not that it would stick. Blaire would get upset and ask Rush, who was on the board of directors, to do something about it. Della wouldn’t be happy, either, and seeing as how her boyfriend, Woods, owned the place—and did everything in his power to make her happy—he’d do something about it, too. But still. What the f**k was she thinking?
I grabbed my truck keys and headed out the door to deal with Bethy.
I could hear Bethy yelling the moment I stepped out of the truck, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from. It was too loud to be coming from inside, so someone had to have gotten Bethy to the parking lot. I closed my truck door and followed the sound. Near the staff entrance, I saw Rush holding Bethy’s arms down and talking to her. Tripp stood there, running his hands through his hair as if he wasn’t sure what the hell to do. Woods talked to him quietly, and all Tripp did was shake his head no in return.
“Come back to the house with me. Blaire wants you there. You need her right now. You also need to sober up. Tripp didn’t do anything to you, Bethy. You’re still grieving, and he was the closest person you could find to take it out on.” Rush’s voice was gentle but demanding.
“You don’t know shit, Rush! Youdonknowshit!” Bethy slurred, shoving at Rush’s chest. “No one knows! But he does!” she screamed, pointing a finger at Tripp. “He ruined me! He broke me. I wasn’t good enough. I was never good enough! It’s all his fault. He came back. Why did you come back, huh? Were you trying to hurt me? You f**king succeeded! You are the reason my life is hell on earth!” She was trembling now.
“Where’s Della?” I asked, drawing everyone’s attention to me. “Bethy needs a friend. We’re just gonna upset her more like this.”
Woods didn’t look like he wanted Della around. He had to stop protecting her as if she was about to break. She was strong and healthy. He didn’t know what fragile was. He had no idea.
“She’s asleep. She’s been up since five this morning,” Woods said in a hard voice that meant he wasn’t calling her.
“I need to leave. Seeing me upsets her. I thought I could talk to her, but she’s not ready. Not yet,” Tripp said. The pain in his voice was so damn obvious it hurt. He was possibly the one person who was suffering from Jace’s death as much as Bethy. Why wouldn’t she accept his help?
“Upset? You think I’m upset? I was f**kin’ upset five years ago. Now I’m . . . lost.” She said the last word in almost a whisper. Then she crumpled to the floor and wrapped her arms around her legs as she began sobbing so hard her body shook violently.
“We gotta do something. Blaire will know what to say. I should have sent Blaire and you. I just made everything worse,” Rush said, looking back at me. Then he turned his attention to Tripp and stared at him a moment. “You know why she hates you, don’t you?” he said in his simple, to-the-point manner.
Tripp didn’t respond.
“Yes! He knows!” she wailed. “He knows. But Jace never knew.”
Bethy’s drunken ranting wasn’t making any sense to me.
I hated watching this. I hated knowing that months after Jace’s death, Bethy was still a broken, empty soul. Stepping around Rush, I bent down to Bethy’s eye level. “I’m gonna pick you up and take you to Rush’s car. He’s gonna take you to Blaire, and you’re gonna let her take care of you. She’ll be there to listen. You can trust her. She loves you. Now, put your arm around my shoulder.”
Her sad, red-rimmed eyes stared up at me for a few seconds before she put her arm around my neck. I braced one arm against her back and slid one arm under her legs and stood up with her.
“Where did you park?” I asked Rush.
“Just down there on the other side of Woods,” he replied.
I glanced one last time at Tripp, who was watching Bethy with the same hopeless look I understood all too well. What didn’t make sense was why Tripp was looking at Bethy like he’d move heaven and earth to take her pain away. Did they really even know each other?
Harlow
“You doing OK, sunshine?” Major asked as he took the seat beside me on the hay bale where I had sat to watch Mase work.
Glancing up at Major, I smiled, even though I didn’t really feel like it. “Yes, and you?” I replied because it was the polite thing to do. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to him or anyone. Not today. I had been to my weekly doctor appointment. Watching all the pregnant women and their adoring husbands in the waiting room had been hard, and it was all I could do to keep from breaking down. I missed Grant.
“Don’t look like you’re doing good. In fact, you look like someone killed your puppy,” he said teasingly.
I knew that Maryann and Mase hadn’t told Major anything. I trusted Major because he loved his family, and I was an extension of that family, but I hated people knowing before Grant. Until Grant knew about our child, I didn’t want anyone else knowing. “Just having one of those days,” I replied, hoping that would shut him up.
“Huh,” he replied, then looked out at Mase, who was on one of the horses. “To hear the news tell it, you were hot and heavy with Grant Carter, Rush Finlay’s former stepbrother. But I’ve been here a couple weeks, and I haven’t seen the guy who shoved down three reporters to get you into Rush’s Range Rover and out of the public eye. You know, that clip has been played about a million times. The guy looked fierce and ready to slay dragons for you. Makes me curious about where he is now.”
I had watched that clip, too. I had watched it over and over again. It was on YouTube, and I played it often. Not because it was the moment I left Grant but because Major was right. Grant looked determined and fierce. He had yelled at reporters and basically torn a path through them, from his front door to Rush’s car, to get to me. But the part that I couldn’t forget was the look on his face, perfectly captured by the cameras, when I had driven away. He had regretted his last words to me. The pain in his eyes had been clear, and it broke my heart and healed it all at once every time I watched the clip. He hadn’t meant what he said. He had been scared.
“He doesn’t know where I am,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
“Really? And how is that? You hiding from him, too?”
Major was being nosy, and maybe I should have told him to mind his own business, but I didn’t do that. I wanted to talk about Grant with someone. Needed to. “We needed space. He was scared of my heart condition. He doesn’t want to lose me,” I explained vaguely.