Renovation (A Golden Beach Novel) Page 25

  She worked to control the trembling in her bottom lip, but she was fighting a losing battle. His words cut deep, even though she knew it was just a defense mechanism and that he loved her.

  “You’re such a coward. You play the hero, but if you don’t open your eyes you’re going to lose everything. You’re so blinded by your self-loathing you can’t see that forever is standing in front of you.”

  That got him, she watched his careful mask fall away. His chin jutted out as he worked to keep the emotion at bay. “I don’t want forever, Valerie. Get your shit and get out. I’m done playing house with you.”

  He turned and stalked to the bedroom she’d spent so many nights in and slammed the door. If her anger was a tangible thing, she could have thrown it at him. Heart pounding, she held on to her rage while she gathered some clothes, her toothbrush, and makeup. She needed to get out, get away from him, before she broke down and started sobbing.

  With her bag slung over her shoulder, she knocked softly on his door, heartache starting to set in. She leaned her forehead against the coolness of the surface and played her last card. “I’m sorry you can’t see what I see for us. If you let me walk out now, that’s it. No matter how much I love you, we’ll be over.”

  She heard his sigh on the other side of the door, could practically feel his big body pressed against the wood. For a moment, hope blossomed as the doorknob shook, but his words squashed it.

  “Just go.”

  “Donovan, you need to face your demons whether we’re together or not.”

  “I said go!” The door rattled as he yelled the words, causing her to jump away.

  She left, slamming the door behind her. The tears didn’t come until she sat parked in the driveway of Angela’s house.

  What the fuck had he done? Donovan pressed his fingers into his temples in an attempt to ease the pounding ache in his head. His chest hurt, his jaw was clenched so tightly his teeth ached. He took another swig from the bottle of Jack Daniels and willed it to work its magic. Her words from the other side of that damn door broke him again and again as they replayed in his mind. “No matter how much I love you.” She’d told him she loved him as he kicked her out of his life.

  A tear escaped his watery eyes and he roared in rage. His life was turning to shit in a series of moments. He’d worked so hard to keep her, then in one night he’d practically handed her to Blake. The bottle made it to his lips again and he prayed that one of these times would be enough to make him forget her.

  Then he remembered, he saw the shit-storm that was his family. His mother spent years loving a man who couldn’t see past his own anger and now she was dead. How could he tell Valerie about the years of fear, the nights he’d spent hiding in his closet while he and his sisters listened to the sounds of his mom screaming as his dad’s fist came down over and over? Now he had to go back, had to watch his mother be put in the ground and testify against his own father for her murder. Valerie’s family was the picture of happy normalcy. She couldn’t understand this level of dysfunction. And he didn’t want her to have to try.

  He pressed the heel of his hand to his aching chest, trying to staunch the flow of pain radiating out of him. Anger—raw and pure—burned in the pit of his stomach. Even now, after all these years, his father was ruining everything good in his life.

  All around the apartment were reminders of her. He’d spent the better part of two days drunk. It was the only thing that could cover the steady agony of his mistake. A cardigan lay draped over the arm of the couch, one of her necklaces sat on the end table. He picked it up and placed it back in her room, where it should be.

  No matter how much I love you echoed in his ears as he looked around the tidy little space where she rarely slept. It still smelled of her light perfume, clean and flowery. Head pounding, heart aching, he pressed her pillow to his face and, after toeing off his shoes, he lay on her bed and let his exhaustion win the battle.

  Hours later, he woke with her scent still in his nose. The mid-afternoon sun shone through the open blinds. He’d slept most of the day away. Sober and nauseous, he reached for the bottle that had been his constant companion over the past few days. His phone rang, jolting him back to the harsh reality of his situation.

  “Viv?”

  “They’re releasing her body tomorrow. Your dad’s pleading guilty.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You don’t have to testify. Her funeral will be in a week. Can you come?”

  His stomach churned, whether caused by the circumstances or his hangover, he didn’t know. “I’ll need a few days.”

  “We’ll be here when you’re ready, honey.”

  He felt his breath catch, his chest tighten, and the telltale humming in his ears. He ended the call and sank to the floor of Valerie’s room, letting the panic attack take him this time. He screwed his eyes shut tightly and worked to breathe even, slow breaths. The memory of his attack in the shower, Valerie’s skin against his as she breathed with him, helping him through it, helped to calm him.

  He picked himself up off the floor and pushed through the chaos in his brain. He had a meeting with Chief Roman, and with a sinking feeling that he hadn’t hit rock bottom yet, he grabbed his keys and jacket and headed out to meet his fate.

  Chapter 31

  “Suspended? Please, this is all I have left.” Donovan felt like a jackass for begging, but Chief Roman had just suspended him indefinitely without pay.

  “I’m sorry, Miller. Until you’re cleared by Dr. Zeman, you’re a hazard to yourself and the rest of the department. I can’t let you continue your job. Look what happened to Sullivan.”

  “I’m getting help. I’ve got a session scheduled for next week.”

  Chief Roman met his eyes. “I understand, son. Is there anything going on in your personal life that might be contributing to this behavior? Give me something I can take back to the commissioner so I can get you some pay at least.”

  Donovan took a deep breath and crossed the room to sit in one of the chief’s office chairs. “My mom died three days ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Donovan held up a hand. “There’s more. My dad killed her. Beat her with a baseball bat until she was unconscious. She was in a coma for over two weeks.”

  “Jesus.”

  “I grew up with that. It was my whole fucking life. That’s why I came here when I did. Why I got away as soon as I could.”

  “And that’s why you don’t talk about your family.” Chief Roman nodded, understanding dawning on his face.

  “I fucked up. I can’t tell Valerie how messed up my life really is. I can’t be good for her. I broke up with her. She needs someone better than me.” He stared at the ugly gray carpet, unwilling to look anywhere else.

  “That’s bullshit, Miller.”

  Donovan’s gaze snapped up to face the chief.

  “She’s so good. Her family is solid, normal. I’ll just bring darkness to it all.”

  “Look, I’ll do what I can for you as far as pay. You sort yourself out, Miller. Valerie’s good for you and once you’ve got your head straight, you’ll be good for her, too.”

  Donovan stood, extending a hand to his superior. “Thank you, sir.”

  He turned to leave but paused, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out the Tiffany & Co. box. He held it gingerly, the sight still causing his heart to ache.

  “Sir, I don’t trust myself with this right now. Can you keep it somewhere safe for me?”

  Chief Roman reached out and took the box. “I’ll put it in my safe until you’re ready to give it to her, son.”

  Donovan nodded and walked out the door to his waiting jeep and the beginning of what was sure to be the worst weekend of his life.

  “Have you seen him?” Angela asked from the kitchen
of their parents’ house. She flipped a pancake high in the air and caught it on the plate, sending Asher into hysterics.

  “Again! Again!” he cried, clapping his hands as she did one more.

  “No. I can’t. He made it clear that I was not as important to him as I thought.”

  Valerie sat on the counter, watching her sister make breakfast. They’d slept over at their parents’ house with their brothers while their mom and dad went away for their anniversary. The teenagers were still sleeping, it seemed to be all they did these days.

  “Well, I saw him yesterday. He looks like hell.”

  Valerie snagged a piece of bacon from the plate and sighed. “Sounds like not much has changed then.”

  “We had coffee. He’s not okay.”

  “Good. Neither am I. At least we’re on the same page.”

  “No, Valerie. His mom died.”

  Her heart dropped. “What? When?”

  “That day. That’s why he lost it.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. He’d lost his mother and she’d yelled at him. She’d told him he needed to get help, made him think she was ashamed of him. But then she remembered the horrible things he’d said to her. The lies of omission, possessiveness, attacking someone for talking about her, telling her she was nothing to him.

  “Still, he turned out to be exactly who I thought he was. He’s a possessive jerk who only showed me what he wanted me to see. I didn’t really know him at all.”

  Angela frowned and poured maple syrup on her pancakes. “He got suspended. He’s not doing well. He’s talking about leaving.”

  “That would probably be best.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do. I’m not doing it again, letting a man break me. He needs to figure his shit out.”

  Asher piped up from the kitchen table, “Vawee, you said a potty word!”

  “Sorry, buddy. You’re right.”

  They ate their pancakes in silence, all the angry emotions from the last few days buzzing around in her head. Her heart hurt. She’d finally decided to give every part of herself to him and he’d thrown her away. It was worse than when Blake had left without a word. At least she hadn’t known any better, hadn’t been living with him. Her relationship with Blake had always been one-sided. She worshiped him, while he let her sit at his feet. Donovan took up every bit of her without making her feel like she’d lost herself in the process. She knew she took up just as much of him. At least, she’d thought that was the case.

  “Let’s talk about something else.” Angela twirled a strand of her buttery-blond hair. “I’m leaving for my first tour in January.”

  Valerie grinned, thankful for the change of topic. “Right, everything all smoothed out with Garrett?”

  “Meh, he’ll be okay. The truth is, our producer loves my stuff. He thinks it changes up the album enough to make it diverse. He also said, In My Hour has number one written all over it.”

  “What? That’s amazing.”

  Her sister’s smile brightened the entire room. “Yeah, it really is.”

  “When are you guys going into the studio?”

  Angela popped the last bite of pancake into her mouth and held up a finger.

  “We start tomorrow,” called a deep voice from the hallway. Garrett stood in the threshold of the kitchen, a sheepish look on his face.

  “Garrett? What are you doing here? I thought you were locked away in your writing cave.” Angela’s eyes sparkled.

  Valerie watched as the tension between the two of them sizzled and sparked.

  “I heard what you said about your song. I know I’ve been a jerk about you writing. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.” Her sister blushed to the roots of her hair and Valerie had to fight to keep from grinning.

  “Have you heard your sister’s stuff? As if she needs to be any more amazing, right?”

  Valerie nodded. “We like her.”

  “Me, too.” Garrett’s deep brown eyes flitted from Valerie to the floor as his ears turned the slightest shade of pink.

  “I’ll give you guys a minute,” she said, skirting past Angela and heading over to the table where Asher was clearly done with his pancakes and in need of a good hand washing. “Come on, Ash. You’re covered in syrup.”

  As she helped Asher clean off the remnants of his breakfast, she couldn’t help but feel hopeful for her sister. Angela spent most of her time focused on her music and her family. That didn’t leave a lot of time or space to fit in love. Her heart gave a twinge when she remembered her own lack of love. She squashed the pain and reminded herself that she’d been just fine before Donovan Miller. She’d be fine after him, too.

  Her phone rang, sending her heart hammering with anticipation. Was it Donovan? Was he calling to apologize, tell her he was an idiot, that he didn’t mean anything he’d said? She glanced at the screen and sagged in a combination of relief and disappointment when she saw it was Blake.

  “Hi, Blake,” she answered, a forced cheerfulness to her voice.

  “Are you okay? I heard what happened with Donovan.”

  There it was again, that painful twinge. “I’m fine.”

  “Good, thank God. One of my colleagues was at the bar and saw it all go down. He said Donovan was like a crazy person. Did you know he was so violent?”

  That got her hackles raised. It just wasn’t the truth, but she had no real reason to defend him anymore. “No. He was never violent with me.” Never on purpose, anyway. Her nerves started getting the better of her as he continued his prodding, making her queasy and lightheaded.

  “Well, I’m certainly glad you’re okay. I didn’t know what he’d bring home with him.”

  “We . . . broke up, actually.” The words sounded flat, emotionless.

  “Wow. Really?”

  “You could try to keep the excitement out of your voice, Blake.”

  “Sorry, it’s just, you know I never liked him. He wasn’t good enough for you.”

  Tears threatened to spill as she heard his words. “Mmm-hmm.”

  “You need anyone to talk to? A shoulder?”

  “Not right now.”

  “I’m here when you’re ready. I doubt Angela is a good fit for this kind of conversation. You said she’s really close friends with him.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll, I’ll think about it.”

  “Bye, Val.”

  She hung up with shaking hands and tears running down her cheeks.

  Valerie stood in the shower at Angela’s house, though technically it was her house now; she had to keep reminding herself. The hot water coursed over her skin and into her eyes. She didn’t care. It had been two weeks since her last moments with Donovan and still the hole in her heart burned and bled. If anything, it was getting worse with time. Everything reminded her of him. Every time she heard a siren, saw a couple holding hands, or heard a love song, her mind went to him.

  Lena told her she needed to get out there, dip her toe into the dating pool. Angela said to give it time. All Valerie wanted to do was be over him, to be normal. She rinsed the shampoo from her hair and turned off the water.

  Blake was waiting for her in the living room. He’d taken the initiative and tracked her down, gotten her off her butt and into a shower.

  Dressing in comfortable jeans and a light blue sweater, she swept her hair into a low ponytail and stepped out of her bedroom. Blake was absorbed in something on his phone, his thumbs flying over the screen as he sent an email or text message. He was still as handsome as he’d always been. His light brown hair, thick and full with a slight wave, was combed neatly. So unlike Donovan, whose hair did whatever it wanted, whenever it wanted. Blake finally detached from his phone and his face lit up when he saw her, a completely genuine smile brightening h
is features.

  “You look amazing.”

  The heat creeping up her face felt like a betrayal. She was still healing from her break-up. She shouldn’t be letting pretty words get to her.

  “Thanks.”

  “Ready?” he asked, standing and motioning toward the door.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere special.”

  Blake loaded her into his car and sped away, enjoying the late October air. The leaves were just beginning to turn and the air held the crispness of fall. They drove along the coastline until they reached the Old Cape Henry Lighthouse. It was one of the most popular historic sites on the coast. They climbed to the top of the old lighthouse and stared out at the beautiful Chesapeake Bay. Occasionally, his hand would find its way to her shoulder or elbow and drift down to entwine his fingers with hers.

  “It’s beautiful up here. I haven’t been here in years.”

  “I thought you might like a reminder.”

  “Of what?”

  “New beginnings. This is where the English settlers first arrived in 1607, before the Mayflower. This is where the America we know got its start. It is possible to begin again, no matter what.”

  She took her hand from his and walked down the spiral staircase.

  “Valerie, what did I say?” His voice echoed off the walls of the lighthouse as he descended the staircase.

  She ignored him, needing air to clear her head. Pacing back and forth in front of the historic structure, she tried to gather her thoughts. He stilled her movement and he took her chin in his hand.

  “What’s going on?”