Lynda Sandoval – You, And No Other (страница 3)

“Yes, sir,” she said, an emotionless, powerless shell.

“I’m glad to see you can be reasonable. On occasion. I won’t forget your defiance, Cagney.”

She met his gaze directly but managed to leach the emotion from her words. “I feel sorry for you, Chief.”

His lips thinned. “Save it.” And with that, he left.

Cagney’s feelings were twisted and stuffed so far inside her she couldn’t even cry. Her father deadened every part of her—it seemed the only way she could survive. She couldn’t even trust that her feelings were real anymore. When she hurt, did she really hurt? She thought she felt the cold clutch of fear sometimes, but was it truly fear or something else? How could she know? Everything was messed up inside her. She rested her face in her hands and breathed deeply.

Any other girl might be able to go to her mother for an ally in an argument like this, but her mom—Cagney shook her head. Look up the word passive in the dictionary, and you’d find a picture of Mom beside the word. She’d never defy Chief, not even to righteously defend her daughters.

Cagney sighed.

They would pull through this, she and Jonas.

He would get over the disappointment. He loved her.

He’d meet her at the dance, and they’d proceed as planned. It wouldn’t be the way they’d hoped the night would play out, but somehow … some way, she’d explain away all the hassle and lies and convolutions.

And Jonas, as always, would understand.

Jonas still couldn’t believe how much it cost to rent an uncomfortable penguin suit for one measly night. It was worth it, though. For Cagney. A mixture of excitement and dread swirled inside him as he pulled his mom’s decrepit Monte Carlo into the circular drive in front of her house, half expecting her father to come smashing out of the door, shotgun in hand. He turned off the engine and waited, holding his breath. Nothing happened.

He studied the front of the imposing, impeccable stone house trying not to compare it to his and mom’s shabby mobile home with its loose metal siding and squeaky porch stairs. Still, this house might be big, impressive from the outside, but he knew from Cagney how little love resided within its walls. He’d take his troubled but sweet mom and their rented trailer any day of the week.

To his surprise, the Bishops’ porch light flicked on. He didn’t know whether to take that as welcome or warning, but one thing was sure—stalling in the driveway would get him nowhere fast.

Blowing out a breath, he retrieved the orchid wrist corsage he’d picked up for Cagney at the grocery store florist and stepped out of the car. He took a moment to button his jacket and smooth his hair before heading toward the porch.

Now or never, he supposed.

The front door opened before he ever got a chance to ring the doorbell, and Chief Bishop stepped out, scowling as usual. Jonas honestly didn’t know what he’d ever done to make the man despise him so much. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “Sir.”

“Don’t ‘sir’ me.” The man’s eyebrows dipped into a deep V. “What do you think you’re doing setting foot on my property?”

For a moment, the sheer rudeness of the question threw Jonas, and he couldn’t formulate a response. Cagney hadn’t been at school, nor had she returned any of his many phone calls or e-mails, but surely by now Chief Bishop knew who her prom date was. His mouth went dry, and he moistened his lips with a flick of his tongue to bolster his waning courage. “I’m here to pick up Cagney for the prom.”

The older man’s laughter fell to the stone floor of the porch like shattering icicles, cold and sharp. He stood, legs apart, arms crossed over his wide chest. “Hate to burst your bubble, but Cagney left for the prom half an hour ago with her date, Tad Rivers. And her friends. Go on home now. Get.”

Jonas blinked twice, scarcely believing what he’d just heard. “That’s impossible. Cagney’s my girlfriend,” he blurted without thinking. “We have a date.”

“Your girlfriend.” Chief chewed on that. “Let me give you a bit of friendly advice, son. You want a girlfriend, you need to set your sights a little lower than my daughter. She’s too good for you. Always has been, always will be.”

Jonas felt the cruel sting, but he hiked his chin. Chief Bishop knew nothing about who Cagney was or what she wanted. “She loves me. And I love her.”

“You love her?” The bastard’s eyes widened. “You best show that love by staying the hell out of her way, then. Isn’t there a little gal in that trailer park of yours you can date?” he said, imbuing the word with oily innuendo. “Whatever you’re trying to get from my daughter is probably freely available in that encampment of yours.”

Despite his best efforts, fury flamed inside Jonas. He’d never misused Cagney, and he never would. Beneath the stupid expensive tux, he began to sweat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I respect Cagney more than you ever have. I know she’s here. Let me see her.” He went to bypass the old man to get to the door, but a big hand on his chest held him back. “Cagney!” he yelled.

The hand became a fist, wadding his freshly pressed shirt into a mass of wrinkles as Chief Bishop lifted him slightly off his feet. “Go ahead, you little scumbag. Try to enter my house uninvited,” Chief growled through clenched teeth. “Arresting you for trespassing would be the perfect satisfying cap to my evening.”

Jonas lost his fight, and the older man took the opportunity to shove him back.

He staggered, then caught himself on the railing. Grasping on to his remaining dignity by a thread, Jonas tried in vain to smooth his shirt. “How can you live with so much hate inside you?” He couldn’t quite keep the quaver out of his voice.

The old man ignored his question. “Cagney did leave you a letter before she and Tad headed for the dance. Good kid, that Tad Rivers,” Chief mused. “Good family.” He allowed a moment for the comment to slice into Jonas like a rusty knife before pulling an envelope from his back pocket and holding it out. “I suppose you deserve to read it since she wrote it. Against my advice, mind you. My daughter owes you no explanation.”

Explanation of what? Jonas’s mind raced, and an icy sense of dread trickled through him. Eying the man warily, Jonas stepped forward and snatched the envelope. He tore into it, hoping for some clue as to why their planned “united front” had fallen so far by the wayside. Why hadn’t she returned his calls? Made some attempt to warn him that all hell had busted loose? They’d always protected each other.

He scanned the letter quickly, recognized Cagney’s writing. And the page had been torn from her favorite school notebook, the one with paper lined in purple that smelled of grapes if you rubbed it.

Bracing himself, Jonas read:

Dear Jonas:

I would’ve told you sooner, but I just didn’t know how. You’re a nice guy and you’ve been a good friend, but Tad and I started talking a few months ago, and I fell in love with him. It just … happened. It’s easier on me, too, because Chief approves. I hope you understand …

He couldn’t bear to read another agonizing word in front of Chief Bishop. The man’s gloating was nearly palpable, and the pain in Jonas’s heart was too intense. He crumpled the letter in one hand and stared off to the side. After a moment, he glared at the smug man before him. “You did this.”

“Cut the paranoia, boy. I had nothing to do with it. Read the letter. Cagney made her choice.” His tone smoothed into an arrogant purr. “It’s for the best.”

“When have you ever known what was best for Cagney or any of your daughters?” Jonas snapped, his voice hoarse with tears he could hardly hold back. “None of them can stand you, and everyone in this town knows it.”

Chief Bishop’s face reddened. “You have your damned letter, now get the hell off my property. And don’t let me see you here ever again.”

“Don’t worry,” Jonas tossed over his shoulder as he spun and took the steps two at a time, his world collapsing around him.

But, no more.

If ever there was a last straw, he’d just received it.

It’s easier on me, too, because Chief approves. Chief approves.

Approval.

He’d exhausted himself trying to attain that ever-elusive approval, with zero luck. Facts were facts: this town had been nothing but unwelcoming, if not downright hostile, to him and his mom from the moment they’d made the mistake of setting foot in it.

Just today, the owner of one of the bars Mom frequented kicked her out because she was two dollars short for her tab.

Two measly dollars. Literally.

The man left his mom humiliated and sobbing on the curb, as if she hadn’t poured enough money into that dive over the years. Jonas might not approve of his mother’s behavior, but she was kind and broken and vulnerable, and her coping skills weren’t the best, to put it mildly.

Now this.

All he and Mom had was each other.

That much was crystal clear.

The Gulch? Jonas was done with the whole damn place. Done. He might be poor, but he was whip smart and motivated, unlike so many of his classmates. He’d taken enough credits that he’d technically graduated in December, but had held out to go through the spring ceremony with Cagney.