Reckless Abandon (Reckless - The Smoky Mountain Trio Book 2) Page 2

  She laughs at this, out of commiseration or something else, and tucks a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. The sun silhouettes her from behind and she has an ethereal glow; as if an angel or one of those shimmering oasis images you see on a hot, paved highway.

  “I heard about your sister, too. My mom called me when it happened. I’m so sorry, Cam.”

  Now her voice is laced with sympathy and condolences. I turn back to stare at the lake to avoid her penetrating eyes. She would see right through me.

  My younger sister, Jeanine, recently passed away. I wasn’t able to come home for her funeral a month earlier because I was fighting a wildfire ripping through the Smoky Mountain national forest. I had to leave my mother alone with no one else around, to deal with the shitty circumstances of burying her only daughter.

  I sense her approach and feel the prickle of her heat as she closes in on my space. The scent of her perfume – peaches and cream - that I would recognize anywhere surrounds me and transports me back to my youth. I hide the gun underneath my thigh and fist my hands on my lap to refrain from reaching out and touching her. Keeping myself from drawing her into my side and burying my head in her neck.

  “Thanks. But you didn’t have to come all the way back home. I know you’re busy.”

  London lays a hand on my shoulder and I nearly jump out of my skin. It’s been way too long since I’ve felt that touch. Since our time together as lovers and friends.

  Two things we aren’t any longer.

  Not after all that’s happened between us.

  London slips off her sandals and sits down next to me, dangling her feet over the dock, kicking at the cool water underneath.

  “Cam, don’t be stupid. Of course, I’d be here for you and your family. They are…” She stumbles over the words. The lie. “They’ve always been like family to me.”

  My head snaps sharply to the side, as I glare at her with undeserved blame and persecution. It’s easier to pitch my anger in her direction rather than at my dead sister, her disease or the world. London is here, in the flesh, and the source of my discomfort.

  My voice is venom. “They haven’t been your family in a long time.”

  She gasps like I’ve just stuck a knife in her back. And maybe I have with my hurtful remark. In reality, we know it wasn’t London who caused the riff. It was me and the decisions I made.

  The decision to marry someone else. And to hurt London and my family in the process.

  I’d always been a people-pleaser, trying to do right by everyone involved. Yet the moment I made a choice solely for myself, I hurt everyone. My parents were wrecked with disappointment knowing I was marrying a woman I really didn’t love when it was so obvious I still loved London. So, I did what any gutless, spiteful prick would do. I forbid my family and London from coming to my wedding.

  London closes her eyes and inhales deeply, allowing me a moment to look her over. So much has changed in ten years but everything about London is the same. Her golden sun-kissed hair, dewy skin and soft, lush lips that I’ve tasted and kissed and had wrapped around my…

  Pushing the inappropriate thoughts away, I steel my resolve to avoid those topics all together.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  Her remorseful smile is still gentle and kind but gilded with pain. Yet it still holds the solace I seek.

  She lays her hand across my fist, gently unfolding my fingers and slipping them through hers. Only London could bring me to my knees like this. To shed the 100-pound guilt guerilla that weighs me down every day. For the last ten years.

  Our fingers interlock, palms touch, heartbeats in sync once again. As if they’d never lost their connection or timing or beats, even when mine felt it died a thousand deaths over the years.

  “Cameron, your son…Lord have mercy, he is the spitting image of you when you were his age.”

  I chuckle because that’s exactly what my mom says about Taylor. She says he has my gumption, stubbornness, and spirit. And energy. Holy crap that kid is a cyclone on legs, constantly in motion.

  London flips my hand over in hers, a long, tapered fingernail tracing the lines of my palm. All the lives that I have lived in my twenty-eight years. All the mistakes I’ve made and the decisions – good, bad and indifferent – that have brought me to this place. To this moment of reconciliation.

  This is the first time London has ever met or seen Taylor. And it hasn’t been for her lack of trying, but simply my unwillingness to allow her back into my life in that way. I just couldn’t. Not after how I walked out on her. Changed the direction of my life – our lives – with the biggest mistake I could have ever made.

  I never should have let her go. Or left Sage.

  I thought I was doing the right thing - what was right for all of us.

  I thought it was best. I thought we could move on.

  I was wrong.

  I thought I could stop loving her. Or forget about him.

  I didn’t.

  I could never stop.

  Like an avalanche barreling down the mountainside at full speed with nothing in its way to halt its progress, so was my love for London and Sage.

  Strong. Unrelenting. Powerful.

  But with catastrophic endings.

  London and Sage broke my heart first, in very different ways, but I shattered theirs. I abandoned them both when I should’ve stayed and protected them. Decimated any chance to later salvage even a fragment of our friendship.

  Yet the universe is giving me a second chance.

  Because here she is. Our hands entwined in forgiveness. In comfort. In unconditional love that I don’t deserve.

  “He deserves a better father than me.”

  London’s mouth gapes open and she smacks the top of my thigh.

  “Cameron Taylor Lucas. Don’t you ever say that! In just five minutes of meeting him, I can see just how much he adores you. He wants to be just like you. He’s so proud that you’re his daddy.”

  I scoff. She has no idea what she’s talking about. He’s just a kid and doesn’t understand how flawed I am. Looking up to me is a waste of his time and energy. He’ll find out soon enough that I’m not as brave as he thinks I am.

  “Whatever. He’s a good kid, though. Not sure who he gets that from.”

  It’s a barbed remark aimed at me and his mother, Lisa. She’s a fucking piece of work and no more fit to be a mother than I am a father.

  London lifts an eyebrow skyward, glancing at the house behind us over her shoulder. “Is Lisa here?”

  “As if,” I bark, unable to contain my condemnation toward my soon-to-be-ex-wife. “She saw this as her chance to have a free week at the beach.”

  A soft frown lines her mouth and she pats my leg again. It’s a compassionate gesture – yet my mind goes elsewhere whenever London touches me. Her touch does something to me that no one else has ever been able to replicate.

  Certainly not Lisa.

  When I met Lisa, she was everything that London was not – which was what I thought I wanted at the time. Lisa was wild and promiscuous. Always looking for a party. She helped me escape the pain of missing London and Sage, but led me into more misery than I could’ve ever conceived. Because she conceived, and then I was trapped into a life with her that I hadn’t planned. Or ever really wanted.

  London tried to warn me. Did her best to try to convince me to stay away from Lisa. She knew…even though a thousand miles away - just by the way I described Lisa and her clinginess toward me when we initially began dating - that she was a bad influence on my life. That Lisa was looking for only one thing – stability through a child and a military husband.

  And that’s exactly what she got because of my recklessness and arrogance.

  And my stubborn pride.

  Chapter 4

  Ten Years Earlier

  The courthouse in our small town of Chester Fork is the county seat for our farming community. It rarely sees much action with the exception of marriage licenses, div
orces, and drivers seeking to contest vehicular violations.

  Sage’s initial court appearance is the crime of the century in our sleepy town. Within twenty-four hours of his arrest, word spread throughout the county, as far as Nashville, about the son murdering his father in cold blood.

  As soon as London and I left the hotel, I called my dad, who jumped into action and contacted his friend, Geoff Custer, a criminal defense attorney from Nashville. They had been in the Air Force Academy together and Geoff later went on to law school. Within hours, Geoff had arrived at the Chester Fork county jail and had already met with Sage, signing on to be his attorney.

  The hard part for London and I was the waiting. We arrived at the jail but were told we couldn’t see Sage. It was against the rules. Thankfully, after Geoff and my dad arrived, Geoff was able to give us some details.

  London and I clutched each other’s hands in solidarity and worry, sitting in a small conference room across the table from Geoff and my dad.

  Geoff lets out a deep sigh, his hands folded in front of him on the table, nodding his head up and down without a word. I’m not sure if this is a good sign or a bad one. My stomach clenched and my throat gathered dust as we waited for him to sift through all his paperwork on the desk.

  Geoff cleared his throat. “Well, I can tell you that Sage is okay for now. He received some medical attention before he was placed into custody.”

  London gasped loudly, clutching at her heart and I squeezed her hand. “What? Is he hurt? Please tell us he’s not hurt.”

  Geoff held up a hand, prompting her to quiet herself and let him finish speaking.

  “He suffered a broken rib, nose and wrist in the scuffle. All will heal in time and no permanent physical damage,” he reassured, making some notes on the pad of paper in front of him. Then he flipped through the yellow legal pad, stopping at a page with a bunch of chicken scratch on it from what I saw.

  “The timeline leading up to the death of Merle Hendricks can’t be verified by anyone else, as there are no other live witnesses at the time of the event, with the exception of Sage, of course.” He lifted his bushy gray eyebrows skeptically. Fucker didn’t look like he believed Sage’s account of what happened. Which we have no idea what that was.

  Geoff rubbed his temple as if he’s the one that has something to lose out of this whole ordeal.

  “We’ll hopefully receive the coroner’s report soon to establish the cause and time of death.”

  My dad jumped in, agitated and pissed off. “What does that mean and why is it relevant? If Sage is beaten that badly, there was obviously an altercation that was provoked by his father’s drunken state.”

  My eyes darted to my dad, who sits with military-straight posture at the end of the table, lines creasing his forehead and between his brows. He’s never been a fan of Sage, nor understands how our friendship has lasted all this time, but thankfully he’s not going to turn his back on him. Not when everyone else in Sage’s life has and not when he needs us most.

  Geoff continued. “It’s pertinent because it establishes the timeline of events leading up to the altercation and will either confirm that Sage is telling the truth about what transpired, or if there are holes in his story. And when this goes to trial, which for obvious reasons it will, that information will be key in the testimony and case. Now, let’s see…”

  As Geoff reviewed his notes, I took the opportunity to give a sidelong glance toward London, who sat to my left. Her tears have long since dried up since we left the hotel, but now she just appeared shell-shocked and scared.

  I rubbed my thumb over the top of her hand, hoping that it would give her some piece of mind. Trying to assure both of us that if we hold on tight, it’ll all work out.

  London’s voice sounded timid and so quiet you could barely hear her.

  “Can we see him tonight?” Her pleading tone stabbed me in the chest like a knife.

  The attorney’s head popped up, his tired eyes staring at London from above the frames of his reading glasses.

  “We need to see him, sir. Please.” I emphasize.

  Geoff sighed and dropped his pen on the paper, folding his hands in a steeple to prop up his chin.

  “Unfortunately, not tonight. He’s being processed right now.”

  “Processed?” I had no idea what that meant, so I clarified, unnerved by the sounds and smells of the jail. It sounded like they were putting Sage through a meat packing factory like they have over in Watertown – all the metal-clanging of the cold steel gates.

  “Yes, there are procedural steps when a perp…I mean, an individual who is booked and charged for this kind of violent crime. And he won’t be able to step in front of the judge until tomorrow morning’s bail hearing.”

  My dad spoke up, saying what we’re all thinking. “Will they release him then?”

  Geoff cleared his throat again, taking a sip of his coffee on the table next to his stack of papers. “I honestly don’t know. Typically, with any crime of this magnitude, there will be a review of his criminal history, his flight risk, the nature and circumstances around the crime, and any history of violence.”

  London stared at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, the make-up she’d worn for prom now smeared and smudged. Her head snapped suddenly back to the attorney.

  “He’s only eighteen and has no criminal history. Will that matter?”

  “I wish I could give you the answer you want, but the truth is, he will be tried as an adult. Now, if he pleads Not Guilty at the arraignment hearing, it’ll be months before anything moves forward. I just want to prepare you all, that if the judge denies bail tomorrow, which could be likely as a man was murdered tonight, Sage will be looking at spending the length of that time incarcerated in the county jail.”

  “Oh my God!” London wailed, her head shaking back and forth in frantic denial.

  “Fuck No!” I said at the same time.

  My dad slapped a hand on my shoulder, trying to reassure me with his physical presence. But it didn’t work. I was sick to my stomach thinking that Sage could be stuck in that place – with all its horrific noises and musty, urine-scented hallways.

  And I thought his living conditions at home with his dad had been bad. This was a thousand times worse.

  “Son…London,” my dad interjected. “Do not get caught up in the what-if’s right now. Let’s get through tomorrow and we’ll do everything we can to ensure we are there for your friend.”

  I noticed my dad doesn’t use Sage’s name. It made me angry and that frustration, already brewing on simmer, bubbled up from the pit of my stomach. I wanted to hit something. Destroy anything in my path that was separating us from Sage.

  This night couldn’t be happening. It was supposed to be such an amazing night to remember but turned into a nightmare. A horror movie of epic proportions. And it had to be a thousand, if not a million times worse for Sage.

  The attorney interjected. “Okay, let’s turn our focus on how you can help Sage. I need to get some information as to the last time you saw him, spoke with him or heard from him. What his state of mind was during that time leading up to tonight’s events. Can you both do that for me?”

  London and I nodded our heads in unison and we begin regurgitating everything we remembered as it related to Sage over the last 24-hour period.

  Everything except for the reason the three of us were planning to meet up at the hotel.

  That might not have gone over so well in the grand scheme of things.

  Chapter 5

  Present Day

  London and I sit outside a while longer, reminiscing and talking as the sun begins to beat down, reflecting off the water and heating us up with its hot rays. I can feel the prickle of sweat beading in between my shoulder blades and at the base of my neck.

  Or maybe that’s just from the burn I feel under my skin anytime I’m around London.

  Fuck, I screwed my life up so bad.

  Why did I ever think it would be a good idea to
leave London?

  It was because I was a coward. I was scared of my feelings that had developed toward Sage and what happened between us. London was just in the cross-hairs and a collateral victim.

  “Hey, what’s going on in that head of yours, Mr. Lucas.” London taps me on the temple with her finger. “You’ve always been the thinker amongst…”

  She stops herself before saying any more, but I know what she was going to say. She was alluding to the way the three of us were together. Me, Sage and London.

  “I know what you mean. You don’t have to say it. Honestly, that was partially what I was ruminating over. All my past mistakes. The direction my life took. Yours. Sage’s.”

  I blink and look away, suddenly uneasy about where the topic of Sage might lead to. Things were already difficult for me with Lisa and Taylor, now my sister’s death and staying with my mom while she sorts things out. It’s just all a lot to process.

  My dad died five years ago. Heart attack. I was stationed in Italy at the time, but when it happened I was on a mission in Afghanistan and couldn’t get leave to return home. In fact, it was three days after my father’s death that I’d actually received word. It fucked me up in the head and that’s when I concluded that I wasn’t cut out to remain in the military. Another one of my regrets in life, but something I had absolutely no control over and couldn’t take back.

  Thankfully, my mother knew the score, as she’d lived it with my dad, who had retired just right after my fourth birthday and they returned to their hometown to raise their family.

  Although when I returned to Italy and had made the decision not to re-enlist, that was the beginning of the end for me and Lisa. When I asked if she could take Taylor home and spend some time with my mother, she flat out refused. Said she didn’t want to travel overseas with our young son because it would be a hassle and she didn’t know how she could possibly help my mother since she barely knew her.

  As if she knows I’m thinking about that, London asks, “You want to tell me what happened between you and Lisa?”