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Authors: Vella Day

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Western, #Medical, #Contemporary Western Romance, #Medical Romance, #(MFM), #Erotica ménage romance

Foundation for Three (34 page)

BOOK: Foundation for Three
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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Z
oey hadn’t slept at all last night. Once Thad told her about Pete’s lie, and that he wanted out of the relationship, she was too devastated to rest. She went back over everything Pete had said or did, even replaying the conversation about how he’d befriended Alex, and the incident where he and Joe had stolen the car, but the puzzle pieces didn’t quite fit.

The “Pete is running scared” argument had a few holes in it. When they’d last spoken, Pete seemed to want a permanent relationship and even a family. He was confident of his goals. He wasn’t the type to run away. After much thought last night, Zoey developed a different theory about Pete’s defection, but the result was the same. Pete was gone. The three of them could never be together until he understood that no matter what he did, he couldn’t make his dad love him. Pete had to stop blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault. As a therapist, Zoey was well aware the battle would be long. Pete might never reach the top of that tricky mountain. Had he been wrong to lie to her and Thad? Hell yeah. Could she forgive him? That remained to be seen.

“Can you toss what’s in those dresser drawers in this suitcase while I tackle the closet?” Thad asked. Gone was any tenderness. In its place was bitterness and disappointment.

“Sure.” She gathered the clothes and neatly placed them in the case. Thad was hurting. Hell, she was, too. While it was in her nature to console him, she feared that in his present state, anything she said to excuse Pete’s behavior would only piss Thad off even more, so she tried a different tactic. “Don’t you think it would be better if we waited until Pete returns? Walking out without any kind of discussion never solves anything.”

“Pete’s in jail.”

Every part of her body froze. “In jail?” Her throat tightened. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Thad’s deception hurt. What else didn’t she know? “It’s bad enough that Pete lied to me, but you, too?”

His jaw tightened. “I just got a text from one of the guys on the force. It said Pete and Alex had been in a bar fight. Smashed a few chairs and tables before the bouncer broke up the struggle.”

Zoey tried to make sense of the news. “He likes Alex. Why would they fight?”

His hands stopped. “Alex probably taunted him, and Pete went crazy.”

“Something bad is going on with him. I should go see him.”

Thad shook his head then walked over to her, his gaze never leaving her face. He dragged his hands down her arms and guided her to the bed. “Come sit with me.” The dejection in his tone cut her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Here’s my real take. Pete won’t cop to this, but I believe he thinks he’s not good enough for you.”

That was what she thought. “Pete’s wrong. His degree of worthiness should be my decision. Not his.”

“I know you’re a shrink, but it’s hard to ignore rejection.”

“True, but it’s Mr. Banks who has the issue. His insensitive actions have nothing to do with Pete.”

“Try telling Pete that.” Thad brought her fingers to his lips and kissed the tips. “If this was the first time he’d pulled this running away shit, I’d understand, but it’s not. However, he’s never gone off the deep end like this before.”

“Has he ever been arrested?”

“No.” Thad looked at the clock on the side table. “For disturbing the peace, he’ll need to stay in jail twenty-four hours, which means we need to get out of here by dinner time.”

His thin lips and rigid posture implied a man fighting for control. Pete had done this to him.
Damn you, Pete Banks
.

Thad stood and continued jamming his clothes in his suitcase. She’d already gathered her few possessions. “Let me get this straight,” Zoey said. “You think that by moving out, you’ll be making a statement?”

More stuffing occurred. Thad nodded. “He has to hit rock bottom or he won’t change.”

Wow. That was what she always professed to parents who enabled their children. Zoey stood and moved closer. “You’re right, but it still hurts. Pete needs to realize there are severe consequences for his actions. He walked out without discussing things with us. That worries me.”

“So what are you saying?”

*     *     *

Pete felt like twenty sledge hammers, ten nail guns, and an electric drill were going off in his head. His body ached from attempting to sleep on the pathetic excuse for a jail cot, and the strong odor of dried piss hadn’t helped. The final blow was being forced to remain in jail for twenty-four hours. That hurt.

Pete glanced to the end of the row of jail cells at Alex, who was asking the guard for some water. Pete wanted to apologize to his friend, but given the number of drunks and other misfits housed between them, now wasn’t the time.

About an hour ago, Pete had been given his one phone call. Because he was convinced Thad would hang up on him, Pete had called his dad. He would come to his son’s rescue only because Russell Banks wouldn’t want the embarrassment. Pete loathed himself right now. Once he’d sobered and thought about his actions, he’d realized how much he’d fucked up. Not only would Thad probably have nothing to do with him, the woman he loved might spurn him, too.

One of the deputies rapped on the bars then jangled the keys to unlock the cell door. “Bail’s been paid, Banks. You’re free to go.”

Even though the place smelled of urine and mold, he wasn’t sure facing his father would be any more pleasant. “What about Alex?”

“Don’t worry about him. Someone’s paid his bail, too.” Pete wondered who.

Shit. He’d never sunk this low before. What had he been thinking? He’d been reckless, careless, and above all stupid. Sometime last night he’d finally understood what Alex had been trying to tell him. Pete saw it so clearly now. He’d spent his whole life trying to earn his father’s affection, and mistakenly believed that his dad never reached out to him because Pete didn’t deserve his father’s love. Jesus. His dad was the fucked-up one, not him. How Pete had missed that concept, he didn’t know. The question was, could he repair the damage he’d done?

When the deputy escorted him out, his wallet and phone were returned to him. His father stood with the police chief, probably discussing the details of Pete’s poor behavior. Could this get any worse?

Just thank him and move on
.

With shoulders squared, Pete strode up to his dad. His father faced him, the glare of disapproval all too familiar. “Thanks for posting bail, Dad. I’ll write you a check as soon as I get home.” He didn’t want to owe his father anything.

His dad glanced at him before turning back to the chief and shaking his hand. The dismissal made Pete feel like a ten-year-old again. “Stan. Let’s get together soon.”

“Sure, Russell. Any time.”

His dad turned and headed toward the entrance. Pete kept up with him, stride for stride. “You didn’t have to post bail.”

Dad said nothing until he was out of earshot of his friend. “I didn’t need my son rotting in jail another minute. You’ve embarrassed me enough.” His father ground out his words.

His dad’s comment should have hurt, but surprisingly it didn’t. His father was all about appearances, what was important to him. It was rather sad. “My truck’s at Banner’s. I’d appreciate a lift.”

In silence, he followed his dad to the car. “Get in.”

If Pete’s head didn’t pound so much, he might have had a heart-to-heart with dear old Dad. Perhaps later. Pete climbed in the front seat. While spending a day in the less than pleasant jail sucked, it had helped clarify his perspective on his bad choices.

All across town, his dad remained silent. Pete didn’t mind. Let his dad stew. Was his father even questioning if he’d failed as a parent? Or didn’t he think any of this was his fault? It didn’t matter. His father never did see reality clearly, and that wasn’t going to change.

Out of habit Pete checked his phone. He swiped the keypad, and when he typed in the code, his heart sank once more. It was a message from Thad that read:
Moved out. Staying with Zoey. She’s devastated
.

If Pete thought the pain at the base of his skull had been bad before, he’d been wrong. This hurt worse. His gut and heart nearly shut down. He’d never wanted to hurt Zoey and now he had.

His dad stopped at the corner of Fourth and Nugget Road right next to his truck. “I hope you’ll think the next time you get in a fight.”

Unable to respond in a civil manner, Pete shook his head and pushed open the door. “I’ll mail you the check. Thanks again for the ride.”

He closed the door with care, though he’d been tempted to slam it. His dad had saved his butt, so Pete would be respectful. Didn’t matter the man’s motivation sucked. If Pete ever had kids, he’d let them know every hour of every day how proud he was of them and how much he loved them.

As soon as he lost sight of his dad’s car, Pete slid into the cab, his stomach churning. If he thought staying in jail for a day was hard, apologizing to Thad and Zoey was going to be worse.

Once he pulled into his garage, he eased out of the truck. Man, did he need a shower bad. Unlocking the door to the kitchen, he stepped inside and halted. Thad’s coffee maker was no longer on the counter. Pete’s stomach tumbled again. Sure, Thad said he was leaving, but Pete didn’t think his former roommate meant he’d leave for good. With the gang issue still unresolved, Pete didn’t like his friend’s decision to let Zoey be at her house.

None of the furniture appeared to be missing, but Thad might be planning on coming back later and picking up a few pieces. To make sure Pete understood the extent of Thad’s intent, he pushed open his friend’s bedroom door, flicked on the light, and checked out the space. Empty. Empty. Empty. Shit.

What have I done?

*     *     *

Zoey was nervous, and she’d be the first to admit it. When Pete had called the next day and asked if he could meet her after work, it had taken all of her control not to tell him he was an idiot for even thinking he wasn’t good enough for her. Because the men hadn’t settled their issues, she asked Thad if he didn’t mind remaining at work until she called him and gave him the all clear. She wanted to speak with Pete alone, and Thad was fine with that.

Her biggest challenge would be to keep from hugging Pete the moment she saw him. A normal woman would have been pissed he’d broken the trust the three of them had built, but she understood why he’d acted the way he had. Did that mean she should say all was well and move on? Hell, no. She didn’t need a PhD in psychology to know that for Pete to heal, he had to grovel for her forgiveness. It was the only way to earn respect. Most of the psychological theories claimed that only by believing all options had expired could Pete get better.

At 5:30 p.m. on the dot, her doorbell rang. Zoey ran her hands down her skirt and hoped she was strong enough to pull this off. She’d held hundreds of sessions counseling people against expecting others to be the ones to make them whole. Now that she was faced with the most difficult and important talk of her life, she was a mess.

I have to do this. For Pete
.
For me. For Thad.

Inhaling, she drew open the door, but she wasn’t prepared for Pete to look so lost. Her heart nearly cracked. His clothes appeared clean and, given his damp hair, he’d showered, but the black eye and slightly swollen jaw, coupled with his bloodshot eyes tore at her soul. “Hey. Come in.”

Pete didn’t look her in the eye, and that might have hurt worse than his lie. For some crazy reason, she believed he’d come here to apologize. Fear ran up her body like tiny paper cuts. God, she hoped she wasn’t wrong about his motives.

“Thanks for seeing me.” He looked toward the kitchen then down the hall. “Where’s Thad?”

“Still at work. He phoned a bit ago and said he’d been called out on another gang-related robbery.” That was the truth. Zoey was glad she didn’t have to lie. “Can I get you some coffee?”

“Sure.” From behind his back, he produced a bouquet of pink roses and a small box of chocolate. Her heart melted. “It’s kind of corny, I know, but I wanted to show you how sorry I am.”

There it was. The apology. Step one complete. She took the proffered gifts. “Thank you. Pink’s my favorite color.”

BOOK: Foundation for Three
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