Forsaken (8 page)

So many things were right with them—too many to resist.

It gave her plenty to think about.

“What happens when this is over?” she asked an hour later. They were back in the truck and headed for Tehcotah, the bed in the room they’d rented for less than three hours left untouched. She hoped he’d understand she was asking about the state of their relationship without her having to spell it out. She’d spent too long trying to get him out of her head to say the words aloud. Not yet, anyway.

“I can’t say I haven’t thought of it. Home seems a long way off, though.”

“Yeah, it does.” And it wasn’t a matter of counting miles…it was one of counting bodies. Her parents, Dawson, Billy—everything she had was under a shroud of loss. Would she ever sit in her living room again and not think of Gage greeting her with a revolver? Of his breath on her skin or the feel of him between her thighs after far too many months without? Or of Dawson or Billy? “I’m not sure home will ever feel like home again.”

Gage reached for her. “I never had a home until yours, and I didn’t even live there. My father was a drunk. My mom checked out a long time before Billy and I were ready to raise ourselves, but she didn’t leave us with a choice. I never felt like anyone cared until…well, you and your parents.” He drew her hand to his lips. A wicked grin accompanied the chivalrous kiss, and the contrast thrilled her. It also lightened the mood considerably, but her thoughts were quick to circle back around. His words had triggered something inside her.

She’d been empty far too long. With a ripple of emotion, she realized what she’d been missing.

Gage
was home.

“About earlier?” It was a weak attempt to broach the subject, but it got his attention.

He sent a questioning glance her way before returning his attention to the road. “Which part?”

She studied his profile, finding herself wanting him. Wanting what they had, or what pieces they could get back. “About me sleeping with Dawson.”

His knuckles whitened on the wheel.

“I didn’t, Gage. Not for you.”

He blanched. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”

“Not for you or me. Or him. I’ve never slept with Dawson.”
Or anyone but you
.

His grip loosened, some of the color returning to his knuckles.

“But,” she continued. “I did influence—or try to influence—your fate. They didn’t have much of a case against you without any alcohol in your blood, but a couple of guys swore up and down you were drinking that night.”

Gage’s hands clenched, again driving away the color.

His reaction set loose in her something that felt a whole lot like unease. “What?” she asked.

He glanced at her before turning his attention to the road. “What
what
?”

“You’re tense. Why are you tensing up?”

“Bad memories.”

She snorted. “No offense, but I think I get the claim on this one.”

“Really? You have to live with knowing you were behind the wheel that night? That you took two lives? That you crippled a man you used to call your best friend?” He turned from the windshield for an alarming length of time to stare at her. Before glancing back to the road, he added, “That I hurt you so deeply you couldn’t bear to look at me? That you were content never to see me again?”

The words, however true, stung. She looked away, blinking back tears, taking stock of her hands folded in her lap. “Just wanted you to know,” she said, hoping to fix things a little. “There’s never been anyone else.”

He perked, as if her confession breathed the life back into him. “Really? Never?”

She laughed through her tears. “I’ve never been with anyone but you.”

Her voice was soft and wistful—not at all as she intended. Although it wasn’t the kind of declaration a person could make casually. Not with everything standing between—and behind—them.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said. “It kills me what happened. Although that’s probably not the best choice of words.”

That odd tone had returned to his voice, and with it came the feeling something was wrong. She shook it off. They didn’t have the sort of past a person could revisit without some degree of discomfort. “I know.” The admittance was barely a whisper, but it hung heavily in the air. “It didn’t matter what those so-called witnesses said. I don’t know what they had against you, but I never stopped believing in you. You gave me your word, and that was—is—all I’ve ever needed.”

He smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes.

Something was off with him, but before she had a chance to ask what, a traffic sign caught her eye. “This is our exit.” Her stomach twisted into knots. With any luck, finally they’d have some answers.

Chapter Nine

Genevieve Steele’s office rested on the ground floor of a brick and glass complex near the medical center. Borderline luxurious, it had none of the tile floor and metal file cabinetry Riley expected. Rather, it boasted plush carpet, rich furnishings, and fresh flower arrangements. Cheerful paintings of rolling landscapes bursting with colorful blooms hung on soothing blue walls. A light, sweet scent filled the air. Centered on the glass door in an italic font were the words
Spinal Cord Injury Support
.

A plump woman with graying hair and a friendly smile greeted them as soon as they walked through the door. “How can I help you?”

Riley spoke first. “We’re looking for Genevieve Steele. Is she available?”

“You’ve found her,” the woman said. “Call me Genny. Genevieve was my grandmother, and I’m not that old yet.” Eyes sparkling, she gestured toward the love seat. “How can I help you folks?”

Gage didn’t bother with small talk. As they sat, he asked, “Do you remember a volunteer by the name of Tom Rigby?”

If possible, Genny’s smile brightened. “Of course! Nice young man. One of the most devoted volunteers we had.”

Riley and Gage exchanged glances. The description was at odds with that of the man they’d been tracking.

“He’s—” Gage began.

Riley dropped her hand to his thigh, stopping him mid-speech. “My brother was paralyzed in an accident, and Tom was such a help to him. His compassion was so genuine, and I don’t know what we would have done without him.”

Genny beamed. “I’m so glad to hear Tom was able to help your family. After what he went through—”

“What was that, ma’am?”

Riley narrowed her eyes and jabbed Gage in the thigh. Genny seemed to be in an open mood, and Riley didn’t want Gage to chase it off with his blunt questions. “We just wondered what happened to Tom,” Riley said. “Was he injured himself?”

“Oh, such a sad story.” Genny settled further into her overstuffed chair. “His cousin was injured in a rock climbing accident. I can’t remember the young man’s name—Jake, was it? Yes, I believe it was. At any rate, Jake didn’t have a relationship with his own parents, so Tom took him in. Amazing such a young man would sacrifice so much, isn’t it? I believe caring for Jake was more than Tom bargained for, though. He had to quit his job to provide round the clock care. Jake received a small stipend, but it was barely enough to cover his prescriptions and out of pocket medical expenses. Last I spoke to Tom, he was having trouble making ends meet.”

Riley’s mind was going a mile a minute. Perhaps there was a connection after all. Tom caring for his cousin explained the hospital bed in Tom’s living room, but not the fire. Or why the bed was empty.

“Did Jake recover?” Gage’s voice was softer this time.

Genny’s face lit. “Yes, in fact he did. Tom came in one day with the news. Said Jake was back on his feet, and he wanted to put the past behind him. It was remarkable news, considering. He resigned from the support program after that.”

“Were they not expecting him to get better?” Gage asked.

Genny frowned. “Oh, no. His injuries were extensive. It was quite a pleasant surprise to see Tom so unburdened. Got a new lease on life, that one.” She laughed. “I suppose they both did.”

Riley leaned forward. “Do you remember when Tom quit?”

“Oh, dear. My mind…I’m not so good with dates. I never forget a face, though. But…oh, yes. I do remember. He worked with a young man for a couple of weeks, but he didn’t finish the arrangement. Not that we decree who spends time with whom, mind you, but Tom made a rather abrupt exit from the program after he met this young man. A quadriplegic, that one. That was—”

“Colt,” Gage said. “Was it Colt Beckett?”

Genny sat back, her hand on her chest. “I was going to say about nine months ago. Right after Jake recovered. Do you know Colt?”

“Colt is my brother,” Riley said.

“I’m so sorry, dear. I visited with him a few times. How’s he doing?”

“He’s in a residential facility. He’s not improving. They…they think he’s given up.”

Genny fostered a sad smile. “Is there anything I can do? Would you like for me to arrange another volunteer?”

“I appreciate the offer. We’ll talk to him and see if he’s open to it.” Riley glanced at Gage. “About Tom, you wouldn’t know how we can get in touch with him do you?”

Genny studied them for a moment before saying, “I really can’t give you his contact information, but I’ll be glad to take your name and phone number in case I see him again.”

Gage drew to his feet, tugging Riley to stand beside him. “Just let him know Colt’s family would like to thank him personally, if you will.”

They bade Genny goodbye, thanking her for her help, and let themselves out of the office. “Did you catch that?” Gage asked once the door shut behind them. “Tom quit the volunteer program about the time Colt moved to the rehab facility.”

“What do you think it means?”

“Two things. One, there’s something going on between those two. And two—”

“Let me guess. It’s time to pay Colt a visit.”

He gave a solemn nod. “
Past
time.”

Back in the truck, Gage put in a call to Maverick, relaying the new information. From what Riley could hear of the conversation, they couldn’t make any more of it than she could.

When Gage ended the call, neither he nor Riley spoke for a long moment. Finally, she said, “Maybe Tom’s situation is unrelated to Colt’s.”

Gage turned to her with his mouth open. Snorting, he shook his head. “Only we know it
is
related.”

“No, we know Tom’s cousin was paralyzed. We know Tom volunteered with the outreach program until Jake recovered. Not exactly couth just to drop the good deeds because they no longer apply to his current situation, but can you imagine the burden on Tom? He was probably ready to put it behind him.”

“But to sneak in after hours? To see Colt every day until he left the hospital and not say one word to him when he moves across town to rehab? Suspect at best. And let’s not forget he burned his own house down.”

“That’s not confirmed, is it?”

Gage dropped his head and rubbed his face. Voice muffled, he asked, “Did you light a match? I didn’t. Maverick has already been all over this. Yes, the house was rigged to burn. Someone—presumably Tom—used accelerant to set a fire you can’t put out with water. He wanted his secrets to go down with that house, Riley, and the reason has something to do with Colt.”

Riley’s defenses rankled. Gage’s words made sense, but she didn’t like feeling Colt could be somehow guilty by association. She couldn’t believe he’d betray their father’s trust by sharing that combination, no matter how much despair Colt suffered. “Maybe this has absolutely nothing to do with Colt. Don’t forget where we came from on this. Someone ended up with a gun to which only Colt and I had access. I am almost certain my father didn’t share the combination and I know I didn’t, which brings us back to Colt.” She frowned. “Although, honestly, I can’t believe he’d tell anyone. I know he was angry with you, but he’s a good guy. By now he must understand you didn’t do this on purpose. Just…just don’t get so bent on Tom’s association with my brother that you overlook other possibilities.”

Gage snorted. “You’re starting to sound like Maverick. As far as I know, we don’t have any other leads on this. If you’ve got any ideas, I’m listening…but either way we need to go sort this mess out with Colt.”

“Yeah, there’s that.” And she absolutely dreaded it. The ache in her heart over her falling out with Colt was an old and profound one. Seeing him again would rip open that wound, and she wasn’t ready to start over. Not unless they reconciled, but walking through the door with Gage—the reason Colt kicked her out of his life to begin with—didn’t leave much room for hope in that regard. She sank lower in the seat, the weight of her sorrow pressing hard on her heart.

“Hey, I really am sorry about what happened between you guys.” Gage’s voice was soft, the change in tone catching her off guard.

“Him throwing me out of his life? His choice.” Bitterness crept into her voice, but the anxiety of seeing him—of actually laying eyes on her brother, once her best friend—bubbled close to the surface, hot and hard.

“But it was because of me.”

“No need to be sorry, Gage. I did the right thing. The almighty
they
accused you of something you didn’t do.”

He swore a soft oath she barely heard over the wind through the open windows. Litany aside, he steered into the parking lot of the rehab facility and took a spot in the back, under a large tree. The shade didn’t keep the heat from shimmering in waves off the asphalt, but it was a nice thought.

“What?” she asked.

“I need to tell you something.”

Great. Nothing good ever came from those words. Not when tired eyes and a look of apology accompanied them. That look.

He continued. “About the drinking—”

Instinct drove her to cut him off. “You quit. I know that.” The sureness in her voice surprised her. It didn’t betray the unease casing her spine or the hollowness in her gut. Her fingers tingled with the childish urge to cover her ears, to ignore whatever it was drinking had to do with her brother or the accident. Gage’s drinking was ancient history.

Wasn’t it?

“Riley, I tried.”

Heat flashed red hot to her face. “You
tried
?”

“I tried.”

No, no, no, no
. What was he saying? Denial blasted through his words, shielding her from his meaning, building a wall she had no desire to scale. But twelve months of pain demanded clarity. “As in, you tried but did
not
?”

He looked to the filthy headliner of the truck and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he pushed back his hair and blew out a breath. Stalling. “I promised you I’d quit,” he said after a long moment.

“Yes…yes, you did.” She impressed herself with her ability to keep the words level. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. And it hit her—he had alluded to this before. With clammy realization, she remembered the death grip he had on the steering wheel when this came up earlier. Whatever
this
was.

“Your dad knew.”

The truth had yet to hit her. “Knew
what
?”

He finally looked at her. “I didn’t quit. I tried, Riley. I just…didn’t.”

The words didn’t register. Or perhaps they did on some level, but she didn’t hear them. She wouldn’t hear them. “You didn’t…”

“I was still drinking, but—”

The space between them—or lack thereof—was suddenly too much. Not enough. She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. She just threw open the truck door, escaping, and slammed it, but the force and the noise didn’t change anything.

I was still drinking
.

She escaped nothing and was left with even less.

Hugging herself, she looked around. The rehab center sat in a tranquil oasis of green manicured lawn, the red brick and shiny glass facility the best money could buy. Her parents’ life insurance gave them that gift. It was supposed to give Colt a chance, but he had given up.

Hands landed on her shoulders. That was when she realized she was shaking, that tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked into Gage’s troubled face, and her heart broke over and over again, like glass rolling downhill, every turn another shattering of what used to be. “You did this. I stood up for you. I said you weren’t drinking when everyone else in that town stood over those mangled cars and swore you were the local drunk. I believed in you. I lost
everything
for you.”

He pulled on her shoulders, held them firmly until she allowed herself to focus on his face. “I was not drinking that day, Riley. Not the day of the accident. I didn’t drink because I was with you. I never wanted you to know.”

“Really? When
were
you drinking? Because we were
always
together. You promised me you quit. How many days—how many
weeks
—we were living your lie?”

He stared her down. “I never drove. Never. It wasn’t very often. Just sometimes…sometimes I couldn’t turn away from it. Oren…your dad, once he found out, he said he’d help me through it. He was my support.”

“Your
support
? What does my dad…” She shook off levels of pain she hadn’t flirted with in months. “What did my dad know about being a drunk? Or a
liar
? He
knew
?” She was babbling, but she didn’t care. The words tumbled, angry and hurt. “He knew you lied to me and he… Why would my own
father
help you lie to me?”

His face creased, his eyes cloudy with questions. “You didn’t know? Years ago, he struggled with his own addiction. He told me his story. He knew what I was going through, and he offered to help. I never had a father. He was there for me, and neither of us wanted to hurt you. We both believed I’d get through it. If you haven’t been there, Riley…if you haven’t fought these demons, you don’t know what it’s like. He wanted to do this for me. For
you
.”

Riley leaned over the bed of the truck and dropped her face in her hands. The metal burned her arms, but she didn’t care. Her father had been an alcoholic? And he knew Gage still drank? Betrayal burrowed in the pit of her stomach. They’d both lied to her. They’d both—

“I’d been clean for a couple of weeks when it happened. I swear to you, I wasn’t drinking. And even before, I never drove. Never. And trust me, your daddy would’ve put that gun to my chest himself if he thought for a second I had.”

She didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t hear it. She refused to let it be true…she couldn’t stop it. Pain dawned. It ebbed and flowed and coiled through her, and all that was left was hurt. “I believed in you, but it was a lie. It was all a lie. Everyone in town thinks you killed them, Gage. Everyone.”

“Everyone but you?”

“Everyone.”
She shrugged free of his arms, rounding the tailgate of the truck. “Just tell me one thing,” she said, trying to ignore the hurt contorting his face.

“Anything.”