Surrender (24 page)

“Rules are meant to be broken, Garrick. I’m not a conformist or very conservative.”

I love her spiritedness, but . . . “I’m serious, Robyn.”

Her thin brows jut together. “All right, tell me.”

I sit down next to her. “No more Craig. I can’t handle it. Every time I see him, I want to kill him.”

“I know. But he apologized—I keep trying to tell you that.”

“We’ll see how sincere he is,” I say. “And honest communication, no secrets.” She’s openly struggling with that one. “What is it?”

“I can’t tell you
everything.
We all have secrets. I like it that way.”

That throws an unexpected wrench in my strategy. “Let’s start with anything that pertains to us. Can you agree to that?”

She nods.

“Good. Do you have any ideas?”

“Monogamy—” For a second her, face is full of sadness. “That’s more important to me than anything.” She leans forward and looks me in the eyes. “I’m not into making rules, Garrick. But I do expect complete loyalty.”

“And me . . .” It should have been the first thing out of my mouth. I’ll do anything for her. “Darlin’, I’m yours, believe me.” I take her hand. There’s something going on inside her. I need to know who or what wounded her so deeply that she can’t trust me completely or understand the depth of my love. Or return it. I’m dying to hear those three words come out of that perfectly shaped mouth. Just once. “Shall we leave this discussion open for another time?”

“Sure.”

I nudge her with my elbow. “Wanna go to the beach?”

“I’d love to.”

Chapter Twenty-three

I spend Wednesday night alone at my apartment. Macey is supposed to come over—she’s back from San Antonio. I roll out of bed and sprint downstairs. She’s sitting on the couch, reading one of my trashiest romance novels. “I thought you hated chick lit?”

She looks up. “I never said
hated,
” she fibs. “I think it’s silly. Although I must admit . . .” She whistles. “This is pretty hot.”

I lean in and give her the biggest hug. “I missed you.”

“I know.” There’s that narcissist I love. “We’ve got lots to talk about, girlfriend.” Her eyes light up.

“Wesley?”

She nods.

“Tell me.”

“Hot and heavy. What can I say? I never thought I’d
date
a jock.”

“You’re dating him?” I’m shocked into silence.

“Yeah. It feels right. I think I’ve met my match.”

I sit down next to her. Wesley
is
crazy, definitely an exhibitionist, and hilarious. I can’t think of better personality traits to lure my friend into a committed relationship. “Do you work out naked together?”

“Almost every day.”

She’s serious. I laugh. “I never thought I’d live to see the day that you . . . well . . . wanted the same guy for more than a week.”

“If you’d seen the way he treated me in San Antonio, at the funeral, you’d understand.”

“I think it’s wonderful,” I say, smirking. “We’re dating best friends.”

“Yeah . . . How’s
your
worse half?”

I swat her arm. “Insistent.”

“On what?”

“He’s commitment focused right now. We’ve started this list of rules—things he claims promote mutual respect. He hates Craig . . .”

“Can’t fault him on that one.”

“I know,” I agree. “
And
I have a key to his house now.”

“He asked you to move in?”

“Oh yeah,” I say. “Full-throttle romance. Only I can’t.”

“Robyn.” She sounds frighteningly serious. “Are you going to tell him everything?”

I jump up and start pacing. Just hearing about my past sends me into hysterics sometimes. “No.”

“Girl . . .” Here it comes. “I may have misjudged the guy. Wesley told me how Garrick feels about you—and what happened to his parents. What kind of guy he is. He’s damn near perfect. I don’t think you could do better, really. Someday you’re going to have to confide in someone other than me. Garrick deserves to know why you’re a commitment-phobe.”

“Between Carlos and Garrick’s sister, I have way too much stress. Add in my family’s dark history and I’m afraid it will be too much.” I’m shaking. “I’m prepared to deal with it myself—I don’t want anyone else to know.”

“I think you’re making a big mistake.”

“Yeah, well, what’s new about that?”

“Is there more?” she asks.

Damn. Macey knows me better than my own mother.
I confess everything that happened with Carlos.

“Oh. My. God.” She’s stumped. She lifts my pajama top.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for the big red target that says
I love psychos
on it.”

I smack her hand away. “Very funny. It’s not my fault.”

“Didn’t say it was. I underestimated you, virgin-girl.”

“What?”

“You’ve got a pack of wild dogs nipping at your heels and didn’t have to fuck any of them.”

I clench my teeth to hold back the tears. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“The truth stings. Stop using your emotional baggage to manipulate Garrick. Whether you do it on purpose or not, that kind of shit makes guys super jealous, Robyn. He’s obsessed already. What more do you want? Did he tell you he loves you yet?”

I’m still recovering from her poor opinion of me. “Yes.” I blink, waiting for her response.

“Did you?”

“I can’t.”

“See?” She points. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“I didn’t ask him to love me.”

“No, you just gave him your cherry and he’s supposed to act normal afterward.”

“What happened to you?” I almost feel betrayed.

“I watched Pepper’s parents bury their only child.” Given her tendency to rant, I feel fortunate to have a shred of dignity left.

I know she’s right. I do. But she doesn’t understand how it feels to be the victim of methodical emotional and physical abuse. My mother invented new ways to emotionally torture me. And what did I do? Blamed myself—tried to love her bigger and better. As a result, I lost my family. Hell, I lost myself.

The Den is slammed tonight. I’m rushing around trying to take a head count—we’ve got a 330-person maximum capacity, including staff. I’m almost certain we’ve exceeded it. If the fire marshal shows up, we’re screwed. The parking lot attendant, Daryl, is supposed to keep a loose count. I go outside. Daryl is walking the far end of the lot. I jog over.

“Hey, Daryl.” We bump fists.

“What’s up?”

“Worried about the head count—there’s hardly room to breathe inside.” Daryl hands me his list: 285. I give it back. It’s damn close. “Thanks. Ten more, that’s it.” He nods. As I turn to go, a late-model black Cadillac parks near the front doors. My heart slams. It can’t be.

I stride to the entrance and lean against the wall, arms crossed over my chest. If this son of a bitch thinks he’s getting inside . . . Carlos climbs out of the driver’s seat. He doesn’t see me at first. My hands are locked at my sides now. I’m ready—so fucking ready to do this. Weeks of pent-up fury are waiting in my fists. He struts over, two friends in his wake.

“Don’t think so,” I say.

He stares at me, then scratches his head. “Closed?”

“Yup.”

“Wait a second.” He slants his head at his friend, then looks back at me. “You’re the
verga
from the beach.”

I don’t answer. Instead, I straighten, then square my shoulders. I’d destroy his ass in two punches. He’s half a foot shorter. I can’t get the image of him trying to rape Robyn out of my head. I snarl, then take a step closer. If
I
start something at work I’m going to finish it, because I’ll lose my job either way.

“Easy, dog.” He holds his hands up. “I don’t want no trouble tonight.”

“Then get the fuck out of here.” The only warning I’ll give.

Carlos’s eyes narrow. “I’ll leave for now,
vato,
” he says. “But I’ll be back—count on it.”

I wait until his car disappears down the street before I go back inside. I walk to the bar. “Ice water.” I chug it, then slam the glass down. “Give me a shot of Crown.”

Finished, I stalk to the poolroom. Three of the four tables are occupied. I grab a bar stool and drag it away from the crowd. I sit down. I can’t believe I just let that asshole walk away. What’s happening to me? A few months ago I’d have hit him. Period. Maybe subconsciously I don’t want to risk losing my job because of Robyn. I can’t imagine her working here without me. In fact, I wouldn’t let her. The stakes are getting bigger every day. And my tolerance for this business is fading. I tap my foot.

“What’s wrong?”

I look up. Macey is holding two margaritas. “Want one?”

I shrug. “Thanks.”

“Robyn is busy tonight.”

“I know; she’s been in VIP for three hours.”

“Yeah,” she chuckles. “That bowling team captain thinks she’s special.”

“What’s going on, Macey?” I change the subject.

“Can’t I buy you a drink and have a friendly conversation?”

“Not after what happened at Wesley’s. You scare me.”

She snickers. “About that . . . I’m sorry. I’ve had a change of heart, about a lot of things.”

I know she misses Pepper. “Forget about it, girl.”

“I can’t,” she says, staring me in the eyes. “I need to talk to you. But if I do, and you run your mouth to Robyn, I’ll
never
forgive you.”

My heart rate increases. I don’t like secrets. Or gossip. My gaze sweeps the main floor. No Robyn. I look back at her. “Should you be confiding in me?”

“Probably not.”

“Then don’t do it. Don’t betray your best friend for my sake.”

“It’s not for your sake,” she whispers, focusing her narrowed eyes on me. “It’s for hers.”

I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I wanted to hear what she had to say now. Anything that hurts Robyn affects me. “I’m sworn to absolute secrecy.”

Macey studies me and takes a drink. “You love her?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Her question is a bad omen. I open my eyes. “You know I do.”

She nods. “Six years ago, before Robyn’s family moved to Odem, she had a serious problem with her mother.”

“Yeah.” I knew that already.

“Well, there’s more than she probably told you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her mother is an alcoholic. And she used to push her around. One night, Robyn defended herself. She pushed back.”

I swallow, painfully hard. Reality punches me in the face. I stare unblinking at Macey. “Did she hit her?”

Macey shakes her head. “In the heart.”

I can only imagine what effect all of this bad history has had on Robyn. Everything makes more sense now. She’s afraid to let go, afraid to love me.

“She’s so close,” Macey says. “So close to finding what she’s always wanted. With you. But I’m afraid she’s going to blow it. Self-sabotaging is a coping mechanism for Robyn. Other guys have tried to get close—you’re the only one she’s ever accepted. That’s why I’m telling you. My girl loves you. If she won’t say it,
I
will.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“She can’t hide her deepest feelings from me.”

Macey laughs. “Well, if it’s of any consolation, she’s told me she loves you more than once.”

Macey stands and grabs the empty glass from my hand. “I hope this helps.” I watch her go.

I don’t know if I’m miserable or happy. I just ate the forbidden fruit of knowledge. I leave the poolroom, walk past the catwalk, and stop by VIP. I look inside. Robyn is dancing. She doesn’t see me. I thought things were changing rapidly before, but after the initial shock of my conversation with Macey wears off I know my heart will demand more—and my overly protective nature won’t take no for an answer.

Chapter Twenty-four

Forgiveness is something my parents emphasized throughout my life. We all have redeemable qualities, right? I try to focus on that as I pull into a parking space at Driscoll Hospital. I find it ironic that Robyn’s mother works at a children’s hospital when she can’t reciprocate the love of her own offspring. I enter through the emergency room. There are three admittance desks to the left and an administrative cubicle to the right. There’s a long line of women and sick children. I veer right; no one is in line at the cubicle.

“Can I help you, sir?” the female administrator asks.

“I’m here to see Dr. Gonzalez.” Glancing behind her, I see vaccination posters and food pyramid diagrams are hanging on the walls. I smile at the educational poster promoting breastfeeding.

She looks me over. “Is she expecting you?”

“No,” I say. “If you tell her Garrick Dempsey is here, I’m sure she’ll see me.”

“One moment, sir.” She makes a quick phone call. “Dr. Gonzalez will be out shortly; have a seat over there.” She points to a set of uncomfortable-looking chairs near the automatic doors.

I nod; I’ll wait.

Thirty minutes later, Andrea Gonzalez appears. “Garrick?” She’s surprised.

I stand and offer my hand. She takes it. “Is my daughter all right?”

“Robyn is fine. How’s Marisela?”

She sighs. “As good as any teenager can be expected to be these days.”

I grin. I’m struck by her changed demeanor. This isn’t the same woman I met twice before. She’s alarmingly casual, almost comfortable with me. “I understand,” I say. “Are you free for a cup of coffee?”

She looks at her watch. “Sure, there’s a refreshment stand in the main lobby. Shall we walk?”

We exit the ER and walk down a long hallway.

“I admit, I’m curious what brings you down here today.” She stops and considers me. I see a strong resemblance to Robyn. Same eyes and nose, even the same tight smile.

I’m not one to spare words. Especially where Robyn is concerned. “I love your daughter.”

She gives me a stony look. I briefly consider my options. Confront or persuade? I think a little of both is necessary.

“You don’t need my permission to date my daughter,” she says. “Robyn is a young woman now, capable of choosing her own future.”

That’s where this woman is wrong. “No.” It comes out too harsh. “She’s not. Everything she does is connected to you.
Everything,
” I emphasize.

“That’s ridiculous. Robyn has been on her own—”

“Since the day you stuffed her life in two garbage bags?”