Watch Me (Last Stand #3)(76)
Author: Brenda Novak

John jerked himself out of his thoughts. Sheridan and Cain weren’t making small talk anymore. The tone of their voices had changed, grown softer in volume.

“At the restaurant, Karen told him never to contact her again.”

“I guess they made up.”

“When are they getting married?”

“Sometime in December.”

John’s heartbeat thudded in his ears. How did Cain know about the wedding? John had just left Karen’s. She made it sound as if she hadn’t told a soul, and John knew he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone.

“How do you feel about that?” Sheridan was searching for something deeper than “fine.” John could hear it in her voice.

“I’m not sure.”

Why would he care? What business was it of his? John ground his teeth, irritated that Cain actually thought there’d be implications for him.

Sheridan moved; then John couldn’t see her anymore. He could, however, see his stepson’s troubled face.

“Is there a reason you wouldn’t be happy for them?” she asked. What was she seeking? John wondered. She seemed oddly nervous, as though she dreaded the answer. But why—

Then they were interrupted. “Isn’t it getting a little late to be visiting an old friend?”

A third voice came from the direction of the hall and whatever Cain was about to say wouldn’t be said tonight.

“Yeah, it’s late,” he replied. “I’d better go.” He turned to Sheridan. “Sure you’re both okay here?”

The other woman’s strident answer overran Sheridan’s. “We’re fine.”

John could see them again. He watched Sheridan put out her hand as Cain opened the door, but let it drop before she touched him. “Good night.”

“Night,” he muttered and the sound of the door closing echoed in John’s brain, along with the question that made him sick with suspicion: Now that he’d finally convinced Karen to marry him—how come Cain was the first to know?

He’d almost told Sheridan. Cain had wanted to open up and share what had really happened the afternoon Ms. Stevens had invited him over to mow her lawn. He’d always been too ashamed to even think about what they’d done. As soon as an image from that encounter crossed his mind, he’d flinch and shut it out, refuse to remember. But he wanted to tell Sheridan before she found out some other way, wanted that chance to explain.

Which made no sense at all. What could he say? It wasn’t as if he could deny it.

He hesitated on the front lawn. Whether he told her or not, he wanted to protect her, wanted to be with her. It’d been almost impossible to keep his hands to himself while they were standing in the living room. The memory of her soft skin against his was too addictive; he imagined slipping his hand up her shirt to caress her while he kissed her.

But he’d always known she was meant for someone better, someone more like Jason. He’d understood that even back in high school. And yet he’d taken her virginity. He’d known how selfish he was being, even at the time. His determination to ignore her afterward only made matters worse. He could hardly expect her to trust him now.

Recalling the “you’re not worthy of her” accusation in Skye’s eyes, he forced his legs to carry him to his truck. Sheridan’s friend was right; she was better off without him.

With a final glance at the house, Cain got behind the wheel. He saw his father’s station wagon at home, parked in its usual place out front so that Robert could get in and out. The lights were off.

Karen was probably asleep, too. She’d either be going to Amy’s funeral in the morning or she’d be at school. But Cain needed to hear what she had to say.

25

“Are you mad at me?”

Sheridan stared at the television, struggling to answer Skye in a way that would satisfy her so she’d go back to bed. Sheridan needed time alone. Ever since Cain had left, she’d felt so unsettled. “No.”

No? That was the best she could do?

Skye arched an eyebrow at her. “Maybe you could say that again and be a little more convincing.”

“I wanted to go home with him, Skye. It’s that simple.” Sheridan had to fight the urge to drive out to Cain’s cabin—and not only because she wanted to sleep with him. She felt as if he’d been reaching out to her tonight, as if he needed her.

But that was crazy. Cain never needed anyone.

Except the night Amy was murdered. Sheridan would never forget the way his hand had shaken as it covered her breast. He’d needed her then—to block out the bad and help him remember the good, to celebrate the pure essence of life. But she wanted something more lasting, didn’t she?

“So why didn’t you?” Skye asked.

“Because I’m getting too involved with him. It’s putting me right back where I was twelve years ago.”

“That’s not why.”

Sheridan watched her friend dubiously. “It’s not?”

“No. You would’ve taken that risk. You didn’t go because I’m here, and you feel obliged to stay with me.”

Headlights swept along the street. Half hoping it was Cain, although she knew that was highly unlikely, Sheridan stood up to see the car.

“Who is it?” Skye asked.

She recognized the station wagon. “Looks like John’s going somewhere.”

“This late?”

“I’m sure he goes to Karen’s at all hours.” Sheridan sat back down and continued to watch television, but Skye interrupted again.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m not helping you, Sher.”

Sheridan suddenly felt guilty. Skye had come halfway across the country, motivated by love and concern, and she couldn’t even act grateful. “What do you mean? Of course you’re helping me.”

“No.” Skye twisted her long hair into a knot. “I’ve come to the conclusion that this is something you have to wade through yourself. As much as I’d like to do it for you, I’m just making things more difficult.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth. You need to go back to Cain’s, see where it leads.”

“It’ll lead to the bedroom,” she muttered.

“You told me he’s changed.”

“And you told me I’m seeing what I want to see.”

“Maybe I was wrong. Regardless, my being here isn’t going to save you from him. And he’s ready and willing to save you from everything else. I should go.”