Eight Years Gone, page 22
Steve was gone now, but Grace still had a long life to live. She needed all the answers to heal and slowly move on.
Twenty-Five
The wind blew chilly in the overcast sky while Grace held Jagger’s hand by her father’s burial site. The priest spoke of everlasting life as Grace stared at the casket not far from where her mother and brother lay.
Soon her entire family would rest here—the people who had been her whole world as a thriving, happy girl. Now they were gone, and she would be forced to pick up the pieces all over again.
She leaned closer to Jagger—into his steady strength—even as well over two hundred people surrounded them in the solidarity of mourning.
The last five days had passed in a blur of condolences and media coverage—as the sports world and Doctor Steven Evans’ famous patients and colleagues reeled from the shocking news of his tragic but heroic death.
The police had finished their investigation, not ticketing the driver who had clipped the bike rider or Betty Myers, the sixty-three-year-old grandmother of four who had accidentally taken her father’s life.
The DA had decided against any charges when it was determined that Betty hadn’t been speeding. Drugs and alcohol hadn’t been factors either. Everything about that night had been brought about by a series of misfortunes and a cruel twist of fate.
Grace came to attention as the priest spoke his final words.
“Ready?” Jagger asked her, dressed in a black suit and tie and a long gray coat.
She nodded, walking with him to the casket in her simple black dress and peacoat, settling a white rose on top as Jagger did.
Stepping away from his gentle hold, she blinked back tears as she kissed the cold wood where her father lay. “Goodbye, Dad. I love you.”
She closed her eyes, letting her cheek rest against the smooth surface as she struggled with another wave of regret. There was so much more she wanted to say—so much more she needed to—but it was too late. It still hurt her heart to know there would never be a chance to apologize. There would never be an opportunity to start fresh.
“Gracie.” Jagger’s hand slid up and down her back before he reached out to her.
She grabbed hold, preparing herself for the onslaught of people wanting to share a final word with her.
She caught Aunt Maggie’s eye, nodding as she and Asa walked toward their car with Bea and her son close by. Christy, Mike, and Ben sent her a quick wave as they followed.
Thankful they understood that all of this had been too much, she tried to smile as Doctor Brianna Kimball walked her way with her NFL running back brother hobbling close by on his crutches.
“Grace.” Brianna stopped in front of her, hugging her. “I’m so sorry. Steve was such a good, good man.”
Grace returned Brianna’s embrace. Brianna had always been stunning with her shiny dark-brown hair, bold green eyes, and quick smiles. Today her flawless skin was damp with tears. “Thank you.”
Brianna eased away. “If there’s anything I can do or you ever need, please don’t hesitate to call. Steve was family.”
“I will.”
Brian stepped up next—the older, taller, masculine version of his sister, reaching out his hand to Jagger. “Jagger. It’s been a while. Steve said you were overseas.”
Jagger nodded, returning his handshake. “Brian.”
Brian gave his attention to Grace. “I’m sorry this is how we’re seeing each other again.”
How many times had she heard those exact words over the last couple of days? “I’m sorry, too.”
“Your dad was the best. When I take the field again—because I will—it’ll be because of Steve. I’m dedicating next season to him.”
Grace nodded, finding it easier to smile with the kind gesture. She’d met Brian and his sister a few times several years before when her dad had treated Brian’s first serious knee injury. “He’d love it.”
“I hope to see you at one of the games—you and Jagger. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you want tickets.”
“I’ll be sure to give you a call. Thank you.”
Another man—in his early twenties and with a bruise on his chin—stopped before Grace, balancing on a pair of crutches and a brace on his knee with an older woman by his side.
Grace smiled, recognizing him from the few snippets of the news she hadn’t been able to avoid. “Hello.”
“Um, hey.” The guy cleared his throat as he adjusted his stance. “Uh, I’m Simon Walker. Dr. Evans, your dad, helped me. I’m the one who got hit on my bike.”
Grace nodded, not entirely sure what to say. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Simon nodded this time. “I’ll never be able to thank him for what he did. I’m sorry everything turned out the way it did.”
The woman next to Simon stepped forward, touching Grace’s shoulder. “I’m Simon’s mom, Mary. We’re so grateful to Dr. Evans. We hope you find comfort in knowing that your father was a hero—that his selflessness saved my son.”
Grace nodded again as her eyes filled. “I do.”
“I know he gave up his life for me,” Simon spoke again as his voice cracked. “I’m going to work hard to make him proud—to make what he did worth it.”
“I’m sure you will.” Grace hugged him. “Thank you for coming today.”
Mary hugged Grace next. “God bless you and your family, Ms. Evans.”
Grace smiled as she stepped back. “Thank you.”
Simon and his mother walked away.
Grace looked at Jagger, struggling to keep it together.
“Do you want to go?”
She nodded. “But we can’t.”
“Yes, we can. People will understand. It’s whatever you need, Gracie.”
He’d said the same sentiments more times than she could count, being her constant support over the last few days.
She came to attention, feeling her shoulders stiffen as she made eye contact with Colonel Hinders. He was still big and broad but looked older, with wrinkles around his dark-green eyes. His once-black hair was entirely gray, along with his trademark mustache.
“Colonel Hinders,” Jagger said, shaking the man’s hand.
“Jagger. How’s retirement working out for you?”
Jagger nodded. “It’s good to be home here with Grace.”
Colonel Hinders gave his attention to Grace. “I’m sorry for your loss. Sue extends her sympathies. She wanted to be here today, but a little touch of the flu is keeping her away.”
Grace nodded. “Thank you.”
“I talked to Steve the day before his accident. I wish I had known it was for the last time… A damn good friend he was. I’m going to miss him.”
Grace nodded again because she had no idea what to say to the man she’d loathed since Logan’s passing. The colonel was one of her dad’s oldest and closest friends. But he’d also jumped at the opportunity to whisk Jagger away all those years ago.
“I hope you’ll give Sue my best,” she said, then stepped away to give her attention to Paul and his family as they walked over to share their deepest sympathies.
Luckily, most everyone else had headed home.
Twenty-Six
Grace kept pace with the Saturday afternoon traffic on Route 22 West as she drove closer to Wakeview—a journey she’d been certain she would never take again.
When she’d sped away from the mansion eight long years ago, she had no plans to ever return. But then she’d been blindsided when her father’s attorney listed off the assets Doctor Steven Evans had left for his daughter in a trust.
“Good ol’ exit 3-A,” Jagger said in the passenger seat, his hands locked behind the headrest as she moved over a lane to take the off-ramp. “We’ve been down this road a few times.”
“Today makes it one too many,” she said as she picked up her speed again after taking a right, bringing them closer to a place she didn’t want to be.
“We can turn around—go home.”
She took her eyes off the road long enough to meet his gaze. “We’re less than ten minutes away.”
He shrugged. “We can do this today or never. The place is yours, Grace.”
And she hated it. It had been a week and two days since Paul had called in the middle of the night with the news of her dad’s passing. Shortly after the funeral, she’d heard from her father’s attorney. Nothing had felt the same since.
She’d grown up with abundance and privilege. Her parents—mostly her mother—had raised her and her brother to respect their numerous advantages. Yet she’d been shocked by the degree of her father’s wealth.
There were bank accounts, stocks and bonds, real estate investments, her dad’s shares of the orthopedic center, and the two new ventures he’d been financing with a group of doctors—a charitable hospital in the Central African Republic and another in Honduras.
Long ago, she’d been forced to create something new for herself. When she’d told her father to go to hell, her lifestyle had changed.
Independence and simplicity had served her well—had made her happy. Now she had millions, and everything was different again.
In her attempt to find some semblance of normalcy, she’d spent the last three days buried in her work at the shop, playing catch-up, avoiding the worst parts of her life until Jagger wandered over from the dojang with their dinner and a nightly reminder that she needed to eat. “I don’t understand why he kept it.”
Jagger shrugged. “It’s the last place where you and Logan both lived. Maybe he couldn’t let that go.”
She sighed as she stopped at the red light, flipping on her blinker to take a left at the Sheraton Heights entrance.
“Hey,” Jagger said as he sat up, nudging her chin until she looked at him. “You can flip a U-ey right here. Preston Valley’s three hours away.”
She swallowed because the idea was so tempting. “I want to get this over with.” She still wasn’t sure why she’d needed to come, but here they were.
“Whenever you’re ready to go, just say the word, and we’re gone.”
She nodded, sending him a small smile as she touched his cheek. He’d been everything she’d needed over the last several days—sweet, patient, and supportive. “I’m sorry I’ve been grumpy this afternoon.”
“You’re entitled to a couple of bad days. Things have pretty much sucked for the last week.”
How was this gorgeous, wonderful man hers? “Thank you for coming with me.”
He snagged her hand, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles. “We’re in this together, remember?”
She nodded again, accelerating when the light turned green, taking them into the exclusive development they’d once called home.
Jagger whistled quietly through his teeth as they passed several massive houses nestled on manicured lawns. “Everything looks pretty similar except for the trees. They’re so much taller.”
“Mm-hmm,” she responded, gripping the steering wheel tighter the closer they came to 1022 Sheraton Way.
Then she slowed, growing sick as she navigated the sharp curve in the road, flashing back to the desperate, hopeless moments when she’d nearly let her Audi fly over the hill.
“Sheraton Way,” Jagger said when she turned down the next street—their street.
Moments later, she pulled into the driveway, parking where she always had in the big circular space.
Killing the engine, she stared at the rambling stone and glass house as Jagger did, then got out before she could change her mind.
“Grace,” Jagger called as he shut his door.
Ignoring him, hurrying up the walkway, she got the key ready, shoving it into the lock.
“Gracie, wait.” Jagger stopped her with a tug on her arm before she could open the door. “You’re shaking.”
Her heart was also thundering in her chest. “What are we doing? What am I doing? Why are we here?”
He shook his head as he shrugged. “My guess is you’re searching for some peace.”
“There’s nothing peaceful about this place.”
“There was a lot of good that happened here, Grace.”
She knew that Jagger was right, but all she could remember were the worst moments of her past: the police knocking on the door to tell her she’d lost her brother, lashing out at her father—slapping him and spewing her hateful words as her life fell apart. “There was also a lot of bad. Let’s just go inside.”
He nodded, pushing open the door so she could step in first.
Immediately she stopped, blinking her shock as she glanced around the entryway, realizing everything looked exactly the same.
Her eyes stopped on the large mirror across the room—hers and Jagger’s images reflecting back at them. They were eight years older. Everything had changed. But not here.
“Damn, this is weird.”
“Yes,” she said, heading for the grand staircase—the same route she’d taken her last night in the house.
She stopped in her bedroom doorway, surprised again that her space was exactly as it had been before the doorbell rang and nothing had ever been the same.
Some of hers and Jagger’s neatly folded clothes sat on top of the dresser; boxes packed and labeled for Syracuse were tucked in the corner; her pictures and art still decorated the walls.
“It’s frozen in time,” Jagger said as he stepped up behind her.
She glanced toward the spot where an eight-by-ten picture frame had once been—the one now in her dad’s condo on the fireplace. “I’d grabbed my stuff while he stood right here. I went to your room next, then I left. I slapped him across the face and told him he was dead to me.”
“That was one awful night, Grace. This house is more than that.”
“But that’s all I can remember.”
He took her hand, tugging her into her room, stopping by her pretty white desk. “We studied here. You made me believe I could be something while we sat in these chairs. I started falling in love with you right here, Grace.”
She blinked back tears as she thought of a cocky teenage boy grinning his sexy grins while he constantly tipped back in his seat.
“And that bed. How many nights did we lie there, talking and dreaming about our future?”
“Too many to count.”
“That’s right. And what about the night you let me touch you? I gave you your first orgasm right there on that mattress.”
He’d been patient for weeks, always taking things slow after their first kiss by her car. Then he’d opened up a whole new world to her when he’d slipped his hand into her panties—when he’d shown her what the gentle rub of his fingers could do to her sensitive skin. “That one’s hard to forget.”
“Damn straight. I can still hear those sexy little whimpers. I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”
She couldn’t help but grin as he did.
“There’s more, Grace.”
He moved them so they could look out the window to stare at the empty pool. “We swam there with our friends. Logan would cannonball right in front of your chair every chance he could get—pissed you off big-time.”
She closed her eyes as she huffed out a quiet laugh. “He could be such a jerk.”
He grinned again as he turned her to face him, hooking his fingers in the belt loops of her jeans, tugging her closer. “What about midnight ice cream sundaes and that time I put dish soap in the dishwasher.”
She full-out laughed when she remembered them frantically trying to clean up the mountains of soapsuds on the slippery kitchen floor.
“God, I love that sound.” Chuckling, he settled his forehead against hers. “There was so much good here, Grace. Please don’t forget the good stuff.”
She nodded. “Thank you for helping me remember.”
He let his hands slide up and down the sides of her waist. “This was my first real home. I found you here. I’ll never forget the first day you walked in and introduced yourself. You were sun-kissed and gorgeous in your tank top and ripped jean shorts. Christ, Grace, you took my breath away.”
How did he always know just what to say? “That moment was mutual. Your hair was shaggier, and you were wearing your white muscle shirt with black athletic shorts. That was the first time I’d ever met a guy who made me think about something other than my camera.”
He grinned. “I’ve been hooked ever since.”
She smiled. “That’s another thing we have in common.”
Chuckling, he wrapped her up in a hug, kissing her. “I love seeing that smile on your face.”
“It feels good to smile again.” She kissed him back, locking her arms behind his neck. “Maybe this is why we came today. As soon as the lawyer told us that Dad still owned the property, I knew I had to come back.”
“One last time.”
She shrugged. “Will you be sad if this is the last time we come here? If we say goodbye and sell it?”
“I want you to do whatever feels right for you.”
She shook her head. “This place is as much yours as it is mine.”
He puffed out a breath as he looked around the room. “I don’t think it does us any good to hold on to it. I think I understand why your dad did, though.”
She nodded with a pang of sadness. “I love the memories we’ve made, but I want to move forward.”
He kissed her again. “I love that idea.”
“Should we take a last look around—grab anything extra special?”
He nodded. “Although, I’m not sure how we’ll fit your bed in the Sorento.”
Her brow furrowed as she sent him a puzzled smile. “What?”
“A lot of magic happened on that thing.”
She laughed. “If that’s your barometer for what’s coming with us, we’re going to have a problem. Magic happened all over this house, Jagger.”
He laughed this time. “My bed, the showers, couches, countertops, the pool, nearly every rug in this joint.”
Her smile was back. “And that’s the abbreviated version.”
He nodded. “But this is my favorite.”
“You really want to take my bed?”
