My Beloved: A Thin Love Novella (11 page)

“I—Kona…”

“Mom! Oh, thank God.” Behind Mark, Ransom jogged toward them, looking so beautiful, so much like his father, far too much like a man, in his black tux. He stopped short when he registered the expression on Keira’s face and how tightly Mark held onto her. “You found out.”

If Ransom would have shot her, right in the chest, she doubted her breath would have left faster. Keira pushed away from Mark, standing in front of her son, hurt, pain, mixing with the dormant rage she’d kept buried for sixteen years.

“You knew?”

“Mom, we’ve been looking for you for hours. Everything’s so crazy and with the media and all the family and guests,” Ransom took a breath, moved his fingers through his hair. “Anyway, Dad and I wanted to talk to you about something before the wedding, so you wouldn’t be upset.”

“Luka Ransom Riley, shut up.”

Her son jerked back, took a step and let an expression of utter amazement freeze on his face. Keira had never shouted at Ransom. She’d never spanked him and she’d never told him to shut up. She tended to favor a gentler approach. It was necessary when you’re raising a child with anger issues. But at that moment, Keira wasn’t thinking about being gentle with her son or his father.

“Mom?”

Keira straightened her shoulders, took two steps and tried desperately not to scream at Ransom. That thin grip on her control was a tattered wisp by now. “You knew? Kona told you before he told me?”

“No, Mom, it wasn’t like that. I told him.”

“Wh… What are you talking about?”

Again Ransom scratched his fingers through his hair, pulled Keira away from the curious eyes staring over them. “Mom, Malaine told me about everything that happened to her. Why she was the way she was.” He shrugged, moved his hands into his pockets. “I’m not saying we should give her universal forgiveness, but damn, Mom, she’s dying.”

“Ransom. I have no idea—
”

“Keira! Keira over here!”

Through the side doors where no security was stationed, where anyone, absolutely anyone could come through and crash this wedding without a second thought, the parasites descended.

“Son of a bitch,” Ransom said, pulling Keira behind him. “Mark, please,” he told Keira’s friend and then nodded for him to take Keira out of the lobby. But there were too many cameras, too many desperate, eager photographers clicking away, surrounding Keira, blinding her with quickly blinking lights and spouting out questions that were intrusive, utterly rude.

“Keira, does Kona know you’re cheating on him?”

“Keira, are you and Ransom going to move with Kona to California?”

Ransom jerked around, glaring at Keira like she’d slapped him. “What the hell are they talking about?”

“Keira, let’s get you out of here.” Mark was insistent, dragging her away from Ransom.

“Keira, who did your dress?”

“Keira, is it true you’re pregnant?”

If she had to guess, she’d say there had to be dozens of paparazzi in the lobby, maybe twenty or thirty, much more than the guest loitering around waiting to be seated, and they all cornered Keira, their questions and flashes like a machine gun striking right at her, over and over until that weak breath she couldn’t keep hold of left her completely. So when she saw through the press of bodies and flashing lights the small, strangely familiar woman waiting to be seated, she thought fleetingly that with all the stress she must be imaging things. Or perhaps she simply was not recognizing Auntie Malia, that the old woman had found the time to cut her long hair, or have it done up, tucked under a wide brim hat with beautiful ribbon and fresh flowers. But then time slowed to a crawl, and the woman turned and looked Keira in the eye, her smile lowering, her hand pulling away from Kona as he posed for pictures with his cousins.

“She’s your mother and who are we?”

“You’re my family. Keira, you and Ransom, you’re my everything. No one else matters to me.”

The argument had happened months ago. Before
Lalei Alana stopped simply pleading with Kona to forget Keira and his son and had moved on to blatantly sabotaging Kona’s relationship with Ransom. After that, Kona had left her behind, paid her off. He’d chosen Keira and Ransom over his mother.

So why the hell was she standing a hundred feet from Keira with her hands pulling on Kona’s sleeve? Her mouth was slack, skin pale, head hairless under that giant hat, but her eyes bored into Keira’s.

Ransom tried blocking Keira from the steadily clicking cameras and when he looked past them, to where Lalei stood trying to regain Kona’s attention, Ransom turned toward his mother and took her by the shoulders, forced her to look at him and not the wizened old woman standing just feet away.

“That’s what we were trying to tell you Mom.”

“Kona invited… her?”

“No. I did.”

Keira jerked out of her son’s arms, stepped back against Mark and had to hold his hand to keep herself upright.

“How could you do this to me, son? Why…”

“Mom… please…”

Oddly, the voices around her quieted. There was still the constant stream of clicking cameras, the low mumbles of shock from the guests as Keira’s makeup smeared, clotted with the weight of tears spilling down her face.

“Keira.” That voice brought her gaze from Ransom’s pleading eyes, had her tightening her fingers around Mark’s hand as she held onto him. How many times had that same voice told her she was a whore, accused her of being manipulative? A gold digger? How many threats had that same voice made to Keira?

And now she was supposed to what? Forgive? Accept her at her wedding? Accept that her son had gone behind her back and reached out to the woman who tried to destroy him only months before?

Lalei walked away from a distracted Kona, holding her hands up as she got closer to Keira as though she was afraid she might strike, attack. The woman opened her mouth, took a breath, but Keira wouldn’t hear what she had to say. She couldn’t.

“Mom. Please let me explain.”

“You… you can’t.” Her gaze shifted back and forth, from Ransom to Lalei and then, to the form walking toward them, guests parting, paparazzi backing away as Kona walked into the lobby.

“Baby…”

“No,” Keira said, moving her wrist along her nose to wipe it dry. The flowers in her hands tickled against her forehead. When both Kona and Ransom stepped forward, Keira threw down the bouquet until it rolled in front of Kona’s feet. “I said no!”

“Baby, I tried to tell you, I’ve been trying to tell you since last night.”

Keira laughed, but there was no real humor in the sound. “Last night? And how long have you known our son wanted your mother here?”

“I…”

“I said no!”

Kona stepped back when Keira’s voice raised above the clicking refrain around them. “How long did you know you’d be leaving us? When the hell were you going to tell me you’d taken that job?”

Kona’s face paled and he let his shoulders fall, rubbing his neck when Ransom jerked his head toward his father.

“Wildcat. I’m sorry. I tried.”

“No, you didn’t. That’s not something you do, Hale. You never try.”

She didn’t bother to look back when Ransom, when Kona, called after her. She pulled Mark behind her, jogging out of the lobby and through the doors, outside, toward that beautiful red Mustang and freedom waiting for her in the circular resort drive. There were dark pink and white balloons taped to the side and back of the car and streamers dragging behind it.

Behind her she heard the cameras snapping madly, the photographers’ hurled questions, heard Kona yelling at them to move out of his way. She heard Ransom screaming at someone, Keira didn’t know who and she didn’t stop to find out.

Her heart, so battered and bruised, had been healing; Kona’s love, his affection and hope for the future had been like a warm salve fixing the damage, lifting so much of what had been laid on Keira’s shoulders, making a safe place for her to heal. And now, that salve was gone, the safe haven had been breached, and the battered, broken heart of hers shattered yet again, this time into way too many pieces. That damned shoe—that damned other god forsaken shoe—had finally dropped.

“Keys,” Keira said to the valet leaning against the car.

“Ma’am?”

“This is for me and I want the fucking keys!”

“I’ll take them,” Mark said, running to the driver’s side as Keira pulled her heavy skirt up to climb inside the car.

“Keira, please! Wait, baby. Don’t do this!”

But she did do what Kona begged her not to. She did what Keira always did when the worry, the pain, the betrayal became too much, when the ache held her lungs so tight that she couldn’t breathe.

She ran.

“Drive,” she told Mark, slamming the door as Kona and Ransom sprinted down the drive.

“Keira, are you sure…”

“Put the fucking car in gear and get me out of here.” She swallowed, breathing hard, sobbing as she tried to still the shaking of her hands. “Please,” she said, looking at her best friend. “Get me out of here now.”

And like the good friend Mark Burke had always been, he punched the gear into drive and tore away from the resort with a screech of burning tires. Keira refused to turn around, but watched Kona in the rearview mirror running desperately after them, calling her name in a hoarse voice that grew fainter and fainter the further they drove. Finally she closed her eyes, unable to lose the image of the hurt and fear transforming his beautiful face.

Kona had wanted Keira to see Paris with him. It was a beautiful city, all starlight and romance, history brimming from every broken stone in the buildings, every cracked paver layering sidewalks and pathways.

But Keira had already been to Paris. She’d been twice, in fact and though he was disappointed, Kona agreed that a private cottage on a private beach in Oahu would be the perfect spot to honeymoon. “You’ve spent a small fortune on the wedding, Kona. Why not leave the honeymoon simple.”

He’d suspected she wanted to stay close to Ransom. Paris, well, that’d be a long boat ride. So, wanting to make her happy, Kona had reserved the entire strip of five cottages, just to ensure privacy, to keep the photographers and excited family at bay. He never thought he’d be pulling up to that cottage unmarried and very much without Keira.

He parked the car and looked up the hill at the front of the cottage when he saw the Mustang they’d rented parked in the drive.

“You think she’s still awake?” Kona asked Ransom, hoping the boy would finally speak to him. Ransom hadn’t wanted Kona to go after Keira. He’d wanted to do it on his own, but Kona wouldn’t have it. “If there will be groveling, son, we’ll both do it,” he’d told Ransom, knowing that he’d have to spend some time groveling to his son as well. The boy was pissed that Kona had even considered the job with Sports Center.

“There’s no way she’s asleep.” Ransom leaned forward, watching the porch light flicker on and off against the turquoise siding. “When Mom is pissed, she stays up.” He sat back, rubbing the back of his neck. “If there isn’t a piano or guitar in this place, then she’ll be walking. No way she’ll be asleep.”

“Let’s go find out.”

It was a beautiful place, secluded and surrounded by untouched foliage, a reserve just beyond the property line that guaranteed this little spot would never be taken over by a corporate resort.

Kona’s gaze went to the shoes next to the door and he grunted low in his throat. Mark Burke’s loafers were next to Keira’s smaller, delicate ballet slippers by the door and Kona walked in without knocking, not sure what would greet him, not sure if he should be there at all. Maybe he should have given her some time. Maybe she’d still be too damn mad at him to do much more than throw heavy and cumbersome things at his head. But Kona wasn’t one to back down. He didn’t run, and he’d have followed Keira to the moon if that’s where she’d gone to hide from him.

“Kona?” Mark called from the sofa, yawning and rubbing his eyes when Ransom led his father further into the living room.

“Where is she?” Kona didn’t like the way Mark clenched his jaw, how the man folded his arms as though he was guarding Keira from a dangerous sociopath. Kona didn’t care what Mark was doing. He wanted to know where Keira was. He wanted to make sure she was safe. When Kona stepped forward, got a little too close to Mark, Ransom interceded, holding his father’s shoulder.

“Mark, please. We just wanna make sure she’s alright.”

Mark’s expression changed when he looked at Ransom and Kona understood. He’d help raise Ransom. He had stepped in like a man and raised his boy because he loved Keira, because, like Kona, he knew she’d never ask for help even when she really needed it. This was all logical and reasonable information that Kona stored in his brain. But he couldn’t shake that stupid jealous voice that resented Mark for the time he’d had with his boy. With his Wildcat.

“She won’t come inside. I tried everything.” This information Mark passed to Ransom, not Kona. “She’s out on the rocks, drinking champagne.”

Kona rushed to the glass doors, squinting against the darkness to see the faintest outline of white against the midnight of the lava rocks. “You left her out there all by herself?”