Sinful Nights: Sinful Longing Part 17

Her mother dangled the white pill in front of her, waving it back and forth like it was a dinosaur vitamin for a three-year-old. "Just take one."

Elle batted it away.

"It'll taste so good," her mom said, in a singsong voice.

She shook her head. She didn't want to make a bigger deal of her crash. "I don't want it."

Her mom shot her a glare as Elle settled into the couch. "You have a dislocated thumb, and you're in so much pain your sister said you were squealing. Now stop being such a pigheaded lady, miss."

"I was not squealing," Elle insisted. "And please. It's a dislocated thumb. Thumb," she said, emphasizing the extreme mildness of her injury. The urgent care doctor had diagnosed her with a simple dislocation. Then he'd clasped Elle's hand in both of his and manipulated the thumb back in place.

Sounded easy. Hurt like a son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h.

Fine. Maybe she had squealed then. Possibly she'd shed the tears she hadn't let slide down her cheeks at the rink. Perhaps they'd even served double duty-tears of pain and tears of sadness from Colin's barrage of notes.

She'd deserved them.

Still, they'd hurt.

The doctor had placed a metal splint on her thumb and told her she'd be fine in a day or so. "These type of injuries hurt like the d.i.c.kens when they happen and for the next twenty-four hours, but then it's pretty much over and done. But just in case, I want you to have some of these," he'd said as he wrote out a prescription for pain meds.

Camille had filled them at the pharmacy as she took Elle and Alex home, and her mom had arrived as soon as her shift had ended. Now Elle reached for the light blanket on the back of the couch and pulled it over her legs, then shifted to her side and yelped.

"What is it?" her mom asked, her eyes wide, worry written in them.

"My hip. It's not dislocated, though. It just hurts since I landed on it, too." She rubbed the spot where she'd fallen. Using her right hand. Which made her thumb throb. That pain radiated through her hand, up her forearm, and straight to her d.a.m.n shoulder. She winced. "Guess I shouldn't use this stupid thumb to rub my stupid hip."

"Sweetie, just take one. You'll feel better."

"I don't want to," she said. She needed to stay strong. She couldn't let a simple dislocation rattle her.

"Mom." She turned her focus to the hallway door. Alex had popped out of his bedroom. "Take the pill. You'll feel better. You were crying all evening."

"I was not," she said with a huff.

Her mom heaved a sigh then shrugged and addressed her next words to Alex. "Nothing we can do about this stubborn lady."

"People. You act like I fell off a cliff. This is nothing. I'll be back in business tomorrow."

"But you're out of roller derby the rest of the season," Alex said, pointing out those doctor's orders, too. No contact sports for two weeks. Nothing that could lead to re-injury. The season was over in fourteen days.

"Ugh. Thanks for reminding me. Maybe I should take one now. To numb the pain of missing my games," she said, cracking a small smile.

"Now you're talking," her mom said and held out the gla.s.s of water.

"But just half of one, please. I don't want to be all dopey."

Her mom nodded and broke the pill in half, dropping one part back in the bottle and handing the remainder to Elle, who swallowed the pill. She only had ten in the prescription, and she'd probably just take this one. She didn't need to spend a sleepless night tossing and turning from the lingering pain.

"Hey. Speaking of missing games, what happened to Colin? I thought he was going to come today, and we were going to hang out," Alex said, as he sat cross-legged on the floor. Her chest tightened, and she met his eyes. This was hardly the letdown of a lifetime, or even a big letdown in the scheme of things.

Still, she hated that Colin had cancelled the first get-together with her son.

"He couldn't make it. Something came up," she said, both lying and telling the truth.

"Well, that sucks," Alex said, annoyance in his voice. "I was kind of looking forward to all of us hanging out."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Mom. It's his. If you say you're going to be somewhere, you should show up."

"I know, sweetie. But something came up for him, and he had to deal with it."

Alex scoffed. "If you say so."

Elle had to wonder if she sounded the way she had when she'd defended Sam and his unreliable ways, back in the early days.

"She does say so," Elle's mom chimed in, intervening as she shooed Alex back to his bedroom.

All alone on the couch, Elle reached for her phone, and reread the messages.

Each one made her cringe. Because they were all true.

Colin: I'm so sorry. I have to cancel today. Something came up.

Colin: Wait. That's not what I meant. Let me try again. Because I want to be completely honest, like we discussed.

Colin: Here goes.

Colin: I have to cancel today. Why, you ask? I just met my new brother!

Colin: Crazy, huh? Who would have thought I had another bro?

Colin: Oh, wait. Silly me. YOU would have thought that because you knew.

Colin: I have to cancel today. WTF, Elle?

Colin: I have to cancel today, because you've known for weeks. AND YOU DIDN'T SAY A WORD.

Colin: I have to cancel today because I know I should understand that you had no choice, but I don't know how to do that.

Colin: Mostly, I have to cancel because... I don't know how I feel about any of this.

Colin: Or you.

She took a deep breath, sucking it in, letting her chest rise and fall on that last one. It was a jagged little knife, chopping at pieces of her heart.

Those two lines weren't cruel. They weren't mean. They weren't underhanded digs. That was what made her heart ache even more. He'd spoken the bare truth, and she'd known this could happen-that his feelings for her might alter when he learned she'd kept Marcus's secret.

Still, it hurt so much that this choice meant the end of the sweetest thing she'd had in ages. She'd been falling so hard for him.

Maybe she should take the other half of the pill, to lessen the pain. She reached for the bottle, but it was so far away on the table. She barely had the energy to fumble for it now.

Soon, her eyes started to flutter closed, and the aching in her thumb subsided. The pain padded away, slinking out of the room on quiet cat paws, leaving her with only this whitewashing, this smooth, easy feeling in her body.

But before she slipped into slumber, she tapped out a short response with her left hand.

E: I'm so sorry. There was nothing I could do.

She hit send then decided she wanted to fall asleep on a happier note so she skipped over to the Facebook page for the Fishnet Brigade to see if her roller derby friends had posted any photos from the game. She smiled at an image one of the blockers had shared of the team before the match, then of Elle sending Janine around the curve during the game. She posted a smiley face in the comments then ran her finger over the picture as she yawned, the pills working their magic on her brain as well as her hands.

She clicked back to the page to search for more when a notification appeared. Someone had replied to her comment, but it was from a weird name she didn't recognize, and the words made an eerie warning.

Be careful who you get involved with.

"What?" she mumbled, but she was already floating on a cloud of comfortably numb, and the mystery slipped away with her cares.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang.

But then, if he were her, he probably wouldn't answer either. Tossing the phone onto the counter, he grabbed his cup of coffee and downed a hearty gulp.

Honestly, he shouldn't even have called her so early. He should let her sleep. She'd probably been up celebrating last night, anyway. He'd looked up the results online and pumped a fist in victory over her team's win. He was proud of her and sad that he'd missed it.

Sadder still over the notes he'd sent.

He leaned back against the steel fridge and closed his eyes. What had he been thinking? But that was the problem-he hadn't been thinking. He'd been feeling and letting all those stirred-up, messed-up, mixed-up emotions from meeting his long-lost brother rule over him.

He'd simply reacted. Matchstick fast, like he did in sports. When he went bungee jumping, he didn't let himself think. You don't give yourself any s.p.a.ce to contemplate the decision. You just jump and free-fall. Same as s...o...b..arding the black diamond back trails-just push off and attack the moguls with ruthless speed.

That kind of split-second fearlessness came in handy in his pursuit of adventure sports. But it could be the death knell for a budding relationship.

"s.h.i.t," he said, cursing at himself as he drank more of the caffeinated brew, then set the nearly drained mug on the counter. He'd already logged some time on the lake this morning, on top of last night's epic two-hour row club workout. The bookends to his midnight and dawn had worked-they'd kept him on the straight and narrow. He'd been tempted last night-the pull of the one sure way to wash away his woes had been potent. But he'd stayed strong, so at least he had that victory.

Now all he wanted was to see Elle and make sense of what had gone down. But it was too early, so he grabbed his keys and sungla.s.ses, left his house, and headed to visit the two people he knew would be up at this hour on a weekend-his dad's two best friends, Sanders and Donald. That was the cool thing about older dudes. They could be counted on to be wide-awake at dawn.

He drove over to the Golden Nugget and found them where they always were on a Sat.u.r.day morning. Sanders usually joined Donald at his table for a few final rounds with his favorite dealer before Donald's overnight shift ended. They'd cap that off with eggs and bacon, then meet their wives for coffee.

Donald dealt cards at the Golden Nugget and had for years, and Sanders was a mechanic at the limo company where Colin's dad had worked. Colin had known them growing up, before and after his dad's death. Sanders was a salt-and-pepper haired fellow with a bad back from working on cars his whole life, while Donald was a balding, skinny guy with an ever-present glint in his eyes that seemed to draw crowds to his tables whenever he worked.

At this hour on a Sat.u.r.day, Sanders was the only one at Donald's table, so Colin caught them up on the latest news from the detective about the drug dealing, as well as yesterday's shocker.

"Is that not the craziest thing you've heard?" Colin said, as he finished the story and perused his cards.

Donald blew out a long stream of air, capping it with a low whistle. "If it's not the craziest, it's d.a.m.n close. She was a real piece of work, that woman."

Colin huffed. "Yeah, that's for sure. Did my dad even know about the stuff she was up to?"

Sanders shook his head. "h.e.l.l no," he said emphatically. "He knew she was getting into some bad s.h.i.t and running into trouble with money. But being pregnant? No way. He'd have told us for sure."

"He would?"

Sanders nodded as he studied his cards, exchanging one for a new card. "We were all pretty up front with each other. He told us some of what was going on at work. Like when there was some trouble at the company for a spell and he was trying to make heads and tails of it. Told us, too, what was happening at home with Dora and the fights they had about money, then stuff about you guys. Teaching Mike to drive and Shan to play pool. h.e.l.l, we all heard the story of that hickey you got," he said with a wink, darting out his index finger to tap Colin's neck as if he were twelve again.

Colin lifted his palm as if he were in a court taking an oath. "I solemnly swear it was an accidental scratch."

Donald nodded and adopted a too-serious look. "Yeah, that sixth-grader at your school dance had some sharp nails."

Colin chuckled, remembering when he'd made up that elaborate tale to avoid saying a girl had given him a hickey at a middle school dance. He'd been twelve and wildly embarra.s.sed by the black and blue amoeba-shaped mark on his neck, so he'd concocted a crazy fable when his father had picked him up. His dad saw straight through it and teased him about it. Evidently his dad had told his best buddies, too. That warmed his heart.

He returned to less amusing topics. "What about the cheating, though? Did my dad know about Luke?"

"He was suspicious," Donald said as he doled out two more cards to Colin.

Colin arched an eyebrow. "He knew she was fooling around?"

"He didn't have any evidence, but a man just knows these things," Donald said, setting down the deck and parking his hands on the green felt of the table. "He could tell from her behavior. That's what he told us-that she'd been spending more time out of the house. More time unaccounted for. But you know, it was different back then. People didn't have cell phones and email, and didn't walk around with cameras, snapping pics of people having affairs. It was way easier for her to get away with it."

Colin's gut churned, and his shoulders tensed with simmering hate. He detested everything his mom had done to his dad. Every single thing. "Did he care? Was he bothered? Was he in love with her still?"

Sanders tipped his chin at Donald. "What do you think, Don? Did Thomas still love Dora?"

Donald ran his hand over his smooth head. "Ah, h.e.l.l. How can I answer that? We weren't fond of your mom, kid. We didn't like her way before any of the real s.h.i.t went down, because she was f.u.c.king around on him. So I don't want my dislike for her to cloud the answer. But I think he cared for her. And more than anything, he cared about you kids. You were the center of his world. The four of you-man, that's what he loved most. Being your dad. He was as good to Dora as anyone could be to a woman like that, and he cared about her because she was the mother of his children. He showed her respect. Because he loved you and your brothers and sister."

As Donald picked up the deck, Colin stared distantly at the spa.r.s.e morning sprinkling of gamblers at slots and tables, blinking away the tears that threatened to well up. His father had been gone so long, and most days he honestly didn't think about him that much. Not for lack of love, but because time has a way of soothing the pain. The years made the hurt of missing him recede into the horizon.

But the time that pa.s.sed would never take away the good things his father had pa.s.sed on to him-love, respect, and truth. Colin might have spiraled after his dad's death, but he'd picked himself up since then. He'd apologized for his mistakes. He'd become a better man-the man his father had taught him to be.

That man needed to see one woman now.

The blanket fell to the floor.

Elle rustled herself from the couch, sitting up straight as she yawned. The light shone brightly through her living room window. She glanced around, getting her bearings, then she spotted a note on the coffee table. From her mom, it was written on a yellow piece of stationery with a cartoonish fox in the corner. "Hey sweetie, I picked up Alex this morning. You were sound asleep. I'll take him for the day. Get your rest, my love."

She grabbed her phone to check the time. It was after nine. She'd been conked out since before midnight. Those pills must have worked brilliantly. She hadn't even heard anyone leave. She never slept this long. She wiggled her thumb gingerly, and it didn't hurt anymore.

She wished she could say the same about her heart. She'd need super-duper strength pills to numb the sting of the barrage of notes from Colin. He felt so deceived by her. She understood why, and she'd tried to prepare herself for this moment, but there was no true way to be ready for a reaction to something that huge.