Secretly Married Page 13

  “No golden arches,” Logan agreed as he threw himself down beside Annie, looping his fingers through hers. “Only a few shops. Living on Turnabout isn’t for everybody.”

  Delaney stared after the psychologist. One great plus of Castillo House was not only Annie and Logan’s dedication, but the quality of their staff. “What are you going to do?”

  Annie smiled faintly. “Don’t suppose you want a job, do you?” Just as quickly she waved her hand, barely giving her question a chance to settle in Delaney’s mind. “I know. You’re way overqualified. Don’t mind me. I’m just feeling a little…panicked.”

  “Don’t worry so much,” Logan told her. “We’ll find a replacement. Things have a way of working out.”

  “As we know,” Annie’s face lightened, and she leaned against Logan for a moment.

  The look the Drakes exchanged was so full that Delaney felt intrusive. She turned her gaze toward Alonso, still by the volleyball net. The younger girls and boys were on one side, he on the other.

  “He’s good with the children,” Annie commented after a moment.

  “Yes.” It gave her hope. Delaney watched him lob the ball over the net to the younger kids. Again and again. He didn’t break a smile. Not quite. But she had no question that he was enjoying himself.

  It was what she’d wanted most for him. A life not shadowed by his father’s activities or his mother’s death. A life he could call his own, ruled by decisions of his own making. Decisions that he could respect.

  “Here. Looks like you could use a new one.”

  She realized Leo was standing over her, holding out a fresh bottle of water. Hers was empty. “Thank you.” She reached up for it and tried not to be obvious when she looked for Sam. He was still near the fire pit.

  With Sara.

  Leo sat down beside her. “Quite a surprise. Learning Sam was secretly married.”

  Delaney busied herself opening the water. It hadn’t been a secret from everyone. Only his family. His friends.

  He’d once accused her of being ashamed of him, but it would seem the truth was the other way around. And it hurt.

  “He never did like advertising his mistakes.”

  She stiffened.

  “Leo!” Annie swatted him. “What a thing to say.”

  “Hey. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He looked back at Delaney. “I didn’t. I just meant that if he hadn’t blown it with you, we’d have met you before now.”

  “I don’t think you’re improving the situation, man,” Logan said dryly. He pulled Annie to her feet. “Let’s see if there’s any of my aunt’s ribs left.”

  Leo grimaced when they were gone. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Seriously.”

  “All right.” She looked again past him. Logan had stopped next to Sam, talking. “Maisy is Logan’s aunt?”

  “Not technically.” He leaned back on his elbows, his long legs stretched straight out, bare feet crossed casually at the ankles. He was more slender than Sam. “Logan’s mother was a cousin of Henry—Maisy’s husband. Drakes and Fieldings and Vegas go way back.”

  “One big happy family,” Delaney murmured.

  Leo’s crooked smile was wry. “On the good days. On the bad?” He shook his head. “Not so much. Sam doesn’t talk about what happened in New York.”

  The comment came out of the blue. Obviously there was more to Leo than there appeared. “He certainly didn’t talk about me,” Delaney agreed.

  “With his job. Why he was fired.”

  She stopped watching Sam at that and looked at Sam’s brother. “Fired?” He’d never told her. She’d assumed he’d quit because he’d been that determined to get away from her. Otherwise, surely he’d have stayed and fought the ridiculous claim that he’d stolen evidence from a case. She wondered if her father knew, but dismissed it. If he had, he’d have probably told her. Another mark against her in a near lifetime of them.

  “If he’d had any other place who’d hire him, he’d have gone there rather than come back here,” Leo assured.

  She cast a look Sam’s way again. He was still talking with Logan. Annie’s and Sara’s heads were close together. Delaney knew the two women were business partners and very good friends. Then Sara threw back her head, her musical laughter ringing out.

  “She’s very beautiful.”

  “Yeah.”

  Something in Leo’s tone caught her, and she glanced at him. “Are you and Sara…?”

  His lips twisted, and for a moment he looked remarkably like Sam. “Not anymore.”

  Then a young woman with fire-engine-red hair, wearing a bikini top and brief shorts strolled by. She smiled at Leo as she passed and he sat forward, his expression clearing as if the frown had never been. “Gotta go,” he said. “Duty calls.”

  Amused, Delaney watched him catch up to the redhead.

  Sam walked up beside her, also watching Leo.

  “Who is she?”

  Sam shrugged. “A visitor. Never seen her before. That won’t stop my brother, though. Believe me. He takes after Danté. Follows trouble wherever he can.”

  “Really? Your brother seemed quite nice, to me.” Sitting on the wet sand while Sam towered over her put her at a severe disadvantage. But standing would prove it, so she remained right where she was. “And your father was charming earlier today. The only thing he was following was your pointed glare that he go inside the house.”

  “Yeah, he’s charming all right,” Sam agreed. “But don’t let him fool you. Danté takes the shortest route to getting what he wants.”

  “Some might consider that an admirable trait. Efficient, if you will.” For about the millionth time, she wished she knew what had caused the dissension between Sam and his father.

  “And how often have you applied the shortest route to getting what you want out of life?”

  “Knowing how you feel about your father, I half expected him to be some sort of ogre.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get too smitten.”

  “With whom? Your father, or your brother?”

  “Either. I told you. Leo’s like Danté. His eye roves as steadily as the tide comes in and goes back out.”

  “Are you certain?” Regardless of the redhead, she’d seen the way his brother had responded to Sara. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

  “And you do after a game of volleyball and a chat in the sand?”

  “Objectivity, Sam. Sometimes it’s easier to see what’s right in front of your face.” She met his gaze steadily. Then sighed. She pushed to her feet and brushed the sand from the seat of her too-short shorts. “And we both know that I never learned how to take the easy route in my life. You’re proof of that.” She hesitated for a moment, wishing he’d say something, but he didn’t.

  She turned away. She made it several feet.

  “Laney.”

  Something curled through her, something painful, something sweet. She stopped and looked back at him. “Yes?”

  His jaw cocked. The breeze lifted his loosened shirt away from his chest and pushed his dark hair over his forehead. His fingers propped on his hips.

  Say what it is you have to say, Sam. She wanted to yell the words even as she wanted to deny them. Because he’d either break her heart all over again or he wouldn’t.

  Instead, a lifetime of reticence held her tongue, and she could only stand there wishing for something she’d never been able to voice.

  Eons seemed to pass before Sam took one step toward her.

  Her heart climbed into her throat.

  And a short, sharp scream rent the air.

  Delaney nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to look toward the sound. “What on earth?”

  Sam was already running across the sand.

  She followed him, neither as adept nor as fast at running on the shifting sand. By the time she caught up, a crowd had formed. A crowd she couldn’t see over or around.

  But when she heard Alonso’s raised voice, she didn’t
care. She pushed her way through only to find Sam and Alonso squared off over Mary who lay hunched on the ground, holding her leg.

  She knelt next to the girl, dismay sweeping through her. “What happened? Where’re Annie and Logan?” She gently brushed a tangle of hair away from the girl’s face. “You hurt your leg?”

  “’Lonso was—”

  “He dropped her,” Sam said flatly.

  “It was an accident!” Alonso looked braced.

  Annie raced up and dropped to her knees beside Delaney. “Logan’s getting Dr. Hugo,” she said breathlessly. Her face looked strained, but her touch was gentle on Mary. “He’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

  The girl buried her face in Annie’s lap, crying. “It hurts.”

  “I know, sweetheart.” Annie leaned over the girl, comforting her as much as she could.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Alonso said roughly. Then he turned and pushed through the people circled around them.

  Delaney scrambled to her feet, hastily shoving them back into her sandals as she cast a look Sam’s way. “We have to go after him. It was an accident, Sam.”

  She realized she was holding her breath, waiting for him to agree.

  He didn’t.

  She exhaled, her disappointment heavy. She stepped up to him, her voice low. “Must be dandy to be so secure in your beliefs. Everything nice and tidy in the columns of wrong and right. He’s a boy. Even when he had parents, he wasn’t given the benefit of proper guidance. Maybe he’s gotten into some trouble in the past, but he hasn’t done anything new for a long while now. Is your childhood so pristine that you can really look down your nose and judge everyone around you and write off those who don’t meet your standards?”

  She realized she was waiting for an answer that would never come from him. She turned on her heel and followed the direction Alonso had taken.

  She walked up toward the edge of the beach where the golf carts and bicycles and a few vehicles were parked.

  There was no sight of Alonso’s lanky form.

  Despite her words to Sam, Delaney couldn’t help the fear that ran through her. It was an island. Alonso couldn’t go far. But he knew there was one sure way to get off the island. All it would take would be one call from the local authorities—Sam—and there’d be nothing more Delaney could do for the boy.

  She bit the inside of her lip, her eyes scanning. Along the narrow stretch of beach that was fairly empty since most of the folks were still surrounding Mary, the fire pit and the food tables. She could hear no scrape of size-eleven tennis shoes on the gravel. No shadows moving amongst the assortment of carts.

  “Alonso!”

  “You think yelling his name is gonna work?” Sam came up behind her.

  She rounded on him, her emotions bubbling out of control. “You bloody selfish bastard.” She shoved at his chest. “This is your fault.”

  “Hold on.” He grabbed her hands. “He can’t go far. It’s an island, for Christ’s sake.”

  “An island where he’s certain you don’t want him.” She yanked away, raking her hands through her hair.

  Then she heard it. The sound of an engine turning over.

  She looked around, barely aware of Sam doing the same thing, and saw a small pickup shoot out from the motley collection of vehicles. In the moonlight she caught the slant of Alonso’s face, the glint of the gold earring he wore. Her stomach dropped to her toes.

  “I see he still has hot-wiring vehicles on his list of skills.” Sam grabbed her arm and practically dragged her over to their golf cart. He got behind the wheel and flicked the key. “Hurry up,” he snapped.

  Delaney got in. “He might have used a key, you know,” she huffed pointedly, “considering how everyone leaves keys in ignitions around here.”

  He floored it, and the cart sped over the sand.

  “He’s going on the road!” Delaney craned her head to watch the progress of the truck while Sam headed down the beach, barely seeming to wait for people to jump out of his way.

  “So will we,” Sam assured. He veered around the people circling Mary. Delaney caught a glimpse of Logan and Dr. Hugo as they passed.

  “This is your fault,” Delaney said again. “All Alonso wants is to be accepted. To please you.”

  “To please you,” Sam corrected. Wind blew through the open cart. He turned the wheel, and sand spun from the tires as he headed up a narrow walking path. The motor whined, laboring. Then they reached the crest and came out on the road, considerably farther down.

  “Shortcuts,” he said as he stopped. “They’re all over the island if you know where to look. Get out of the cart.”

  “No.”

  “What do you think I’m going to do to him? Beat him up? You said it yourself. He’s a kid.”

  “No.”

  “Come on, Delaney. He’s pissed at me. I don’t want you getting between us. Last time, he was only twelve when he went for my throat.”

  “All he did was try to punch you.”

  “And you were in the way. Between us.”

  As usual.

  Delaney stayed in her seat. “I’m not getting out.”

  He glared at her. She glared back.

  A war of will.

  He swore and hit the gas again. Delaney looked away, swallowing. She’d fully expected him to bodily eject her from the cart.

  “That’s Annie’s truck he stole,” Sam said as they buzzed along the road. “Not exactly the way to keep himself in her and Logan’s good graces.”

  “He’s convinced you’re going to get him off the island, anyway. Maybe he’s right.”

  “You’d try the patience of a saint.”

  Her eyes stung. She blinked rapidly. “We’re not going to catch up to him in a golf cart.”

  “Yeah, but he’s going to come to the end of the road.”

  “You told me years ago that Turnabout was a sleepy, boring little place.”

  “It used to be,” he muttered. He veered suddenly, and the cart fishtailed to a stop.

  Then Delaney saw Annie’s truck.

  Crumpled against the corner of a brick building. A sign hung over it. Island Botanica.

  Alonso had hit Annie and Sara Drake’s shop.

  “God.” She jumped out of the cart, nearly falling on her face when her sandal caught in a crevice in the pavement. Sam caught her, lifting her along with him as he ran to the truck.

  He yanked open the passenger door. The interior light came on. The airbag had deployed, and it hung limply from the steering wheel. A thin cloud of powder still danced in the air, settling weightlessly on the seat.

  Delaney covered her mouth, looking from the empty interior to the area around the truck. “Where is he?” Her voice sounded as panicked as she felt.

  “There.” Sam gestured.

  Alonso sat on the curb across the street, some distance down the road, nearly hidden by the sign advertising the sales at Sophie’s store.

  She ran over to him, her sandals flapping. “Have you lost your mind?” She couldn’t believe that particular statement came out of her mouth. She crouched down in front of Alonso, her hands running over his arms, his legs. “Are you okay?”

  He brushed off her touch. “Leave me alone.”

  Hurt congealed inside her. But she and Alonso had been through too many times together; they hadn’t always been pleasant. She caught his chin in her hand, looking into his face. Her brother had drunk and gambled and thrown away his life on a dozen other minor, yet illegal, activities. She’d be damned if she’d stand back and watch Alonso take the same path. “Are you hurt?”

  He looked away, making a face. “No.”

  Fear dribbled out of her, leaving her weak. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “Idiot,” she murmured.

  But Alonso didn’t want her fawning over him any more than he ever did. He leaned away, giving Sam a sideways look. “So you gonna arrest me, finally?” Even though he still sat on the curb, looking up at them, his words were full o
f challenge. “You’ve been wanting to since I was eleven years old and—”

  “Nobody’s getting arrested, Alonso,” Delaney said hurriedly. She looked up at Sam. “Right?”

  His face was hard, his expression uncompromising. “What happened with Mary?”

  “What do you think? I threw her on the ground.”

  “Alonso!”

  “Well?” He pushed to his feet. “Do you think he’s gonna believe anything I have to say? He never did before.”

  “And half the time you couldn’t tell the truth from a hole in the ground,” Sam said flatly. “What happened with Mary?”

  Delaney caught Alonso’s hand. He shook her off.

  He stomped off several feet away from them. Stopped. Stomped back. His head cocked, attitude reeking from him in a tangible wave. “I was giving her a ride on my shoulders,” he finally said, his voice stiff. He looked at Delaney rather than Sam. “She wanted to stand. I told her no but she tried anyway, and before I knew it, she fell. It was an accident.”

  Then he turned his back on them both, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the wreckage of Annie’s truck.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “They’re gonna ship me back with you anyway, V.”

  “Is that why you did it?” Sam’s voice was hard. “Because you want to go back to New York? Back to wearing an ankle bracelet where you can’t leave your house unless your probation officer tells you that you can? Or maybe you want to hook up with your old pals. The ones who are doing five-to-seven in—”

  “Shut up. Get out your cuffs if you even need ’em in this hole of a place.” Alonso’s voice was thick.

  Delaney saw him swipe his thumb over his eye. She felt like crying herself. She folded her hands together. Sam stood to one side, his stance unrelenting. Alonso stood to the other side of her, his stance defensive.

  Too familiar, she thought. Way too familiar.

  “A few nights in a cell would do you some good,” Sam said after a moment.

  Delaney closed her eyes, dismay sweeping through her.

  “And maybe you’ll still have that chance,” he went on. “If Annie presses charges for taking her truck and wrecking it.”