Chased by a Stranger (Craved Series #3) (7 page)

Jin didn't ask
any questions after I got on his bike which was fine by me. I was happy to join
him in silent preparation for our boxing session.

When we
arrived, I borrowed some of Jin's equipment, including shorts that were a
little too small and high-waisted for my taste, and got into it as best I
could. 

I knew jabbing
and jogging around with a bunch of guys couldn’t fix my problems, but breaking
a good sweat certainly burned up the nervous energy that had been pooling in me
since I first saw my Dad sticking out of that mango cart. 

Plus, nothing
takes your mind off affairs of the heart like an angry looking guy with zero
percent body fat trying to punch you on the chin.

After an hour
and a half of trying not to disgrace myself, I grabbed a cool shower, got
changed, and went outside to wait for Jin while he said his goodbyes to the
other guys.

"Thanks
for letting me tag along," I said when he came through the doors. "I
needed that more than I realized."

He nodded and
pulled his keys from his back pocket. "You've improved a lot."

I shrugged.
"Does that mean I didn't embarrass you?"

"Only by
the way you looked in my shorts."

I smiled.
"You hungry?"

"Yeah,"
he said. "Starving."

"Let’s
get something. My treat," I said, waiting for him to get on the bike
first.

We went to a
small, outdoor restaurant whose seating area was in a gravely parking lot
shaded by a cheap blue tarp. Everything was metal- the chairs, the tables, the
cups- but the smells coming out of the kitchen gave me a good feeling about the
place.

And from the
way Jin greeted the owner, I got the sense that it was his go to spot after a
training session, and I figured the less I interfered with his routine, the
better. 

"So what
happened?" he asked, taking a seat across from me. 

"With
Audrey or my Dad?"

"Both,"
he said. "Or whichever you want to talk about."

"Well,
there's nothing to say about my Dad except for the fact that he's getting
worse, and I need to have a serious conversation with him."

"Nothing
new then."

"I know,
but he crossed a line taking my bike. He could've really hurt himself or
someone else this time. I don't give a shit if he wants to stumble around town
pissed out of his brains, but getting behind the wheel like that is
unforgivabl-"

"He was
drunk?"

I shrugged.
"Drinking- drunk. I don't know if there's really a difference
anymore."

He nodded. 

"And
unfortunately, there's not much to say about Audrey either because she left
without saying goodbye."

His eyebrows
came together, meeting in the middle of his boyish face. "She did?"

"It's my
fault though. I was supposed to meet her last night, but I couldn’t because of
my Dad’s crash. And when I went to see her this morning to explain, she was
already gone."

"Shit."

"I
know." I shook my head. "I just hope she didn’t think it was personal,
ya know?"

"You
really liked her."

I nodded. "Yeah,
I did." And I wasn't quite sure I was prepared to relegate liking her to the
past tense either.

"So she didn't
give you her number or anything? An email address?"

"No."
I shrugged. "I thought I had plenty of time to get that stuff, and then
all of a sudden I was too late."

"Facebook?" 

"I don't
know her last name."

"What?!"
he asked. "How do you not know her last name? How did you make sure you
aren't cousins?"

I laughed.
"We're not cousins, Jin. Still, I feel like an idiot. You should've seen the
look on the guy's face at The Dolphin when I asked him to call her room and
didn't know her last name. He thought I was nuts."

"You have
to find her."

"You
think so?" I asked, realizing that was exactly what I wanted to hear. I needed
someone to tell me I wasn't crazy for wanting to find a girl who lived on the
other side of the world and had only gone out with me twice.

"What
else are you doing?"

He had a point
there. 

"You want
to know what I really think?" he asked. 

"Of
course."

"I think you
should at least try. I think she really liked you."

"Yeah?"

He
nodded. "And it’s bad karma to let her go around with hurt feelings
if you don't have to."

I linked my
fingers behind my neck.

"And what
is the worst that could happen?" he asked, raising his palms in the air.
"Either you track her down and she says thank you for telling me the truth
or she says she likes you, too. Then you can bring her back here with some of her
sexy American friends."

I laughed.
"You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple,"
he said. "There is nothing as simple as love."

I rolled my
eyes.

"People
make it complicated, but it shouldn’t be that way in the beginning."

I crossed my
arms. 

"For now,
just try and get the girl. Don't over think it."

"You must
have liked her to encourage me to go on a wild goose chase."

"Not
goose," he said. "Girl."

I
smiled. 

"And I
did like her, but all that matters is that I can tell you do, and I want you to
be happy."

I leaned
forward to rest my elbows on the table and looked at Jin. "So now
what?"

"Now you
have to find her."

I laughed.
"That’s where it gets complicated."

He shrugged.
"What do you have to lose by trying?"

And in that
moment I knew. 

I had nothing
to lose and everything at the same time. 

Either she
didn't want anything to do with me or she had feelings for me, too.

Either way, I
knew Jin was right. I had to find her. 

Cause I had to
know.

Besides, I had
money and time on my hands. 

What better
way to use them than to find the one that got away?

Even though I
knew I'd be useless and jetlagged for days, I headed straight for the answering
machine when I got home.

I figured if
there was anything pressing, I might as well find out about it sooner rather
than later. Like if I had a message from Jack. Though I knew better than
to hope for a miracle. 

The first two
messages were booty calls from Emmett. In each one, he sounded drunk and horny,
but I was delighted to discover that I was repulsed by the sound of his voice.

I didn't even
listen to them more than once. Instead, I deleted them in quick succession
which I took to be indicative of some sort of progress, albeit nothing to
celebrate. 

The next
message was from my Mom, who encouraged me to call as soon as I got home in her
default anxious tone. 

I sort of
hoped there might've been a job offer in the mix, too, or a message from my old
company begging me to come back, but it was not to be. Of course, since I
hadn't sent my resume to anyone before I left, I could hardly wallow in
disappointment over that.

I was dying to
put my feet up and veg out for the rest of the day, but I figured I’d be able
to relax better if I knew my Mom wasn’t worried so I picked up my phone, hit 2,
and waited. 

"Hi Mom.
It's me."

“Hi honey.”
She sounded more drained than usual, but maybe that was only cause I hadn't
spoken to her in over a week.

“I'm just
calling to let you know I got home safely.”

“How was the
trip? Did you have a good time?”

“I did,” I
said, sorting through my junk mail. “It’s a beautiful country.”

“I’ve heard
good things.”

“We ate some
incredible seafood and had sunshine every single day.” 

“I’m glad you
had a chance to relax,” she said. “I know how welcome it must have been.”

I could hear
the words she didn't say, that she desperately needed a holiday, too, but my
Mom knew better than to lust after things she couldn't have. 

If only she'd
passed that trait on to me. 

I glanced down
at my bandaged foot and pursed my lips, deciding I would spare her the details.
Besides, if I even mentioned my snorkeling accident, she would probably freak
out and demand a play by play- or worse- insist on discussing all of the
terrible things that could've happened but didn't for the next forty five
minutes.

Plus, I wasn't
sure I'd be able to tell her about my injury without mentioning Jack, and he
was something I was even less willing to discuss than tropical diseases. 

In fact, I'd
spent most of the plane ride home- along with our three hour layover in
Houston- wishing I'd just opened the fucking door to see what he had to say. And
it took all the energy I had not to admit my regret to Megan. So the last thing
I needed was to let something slip when I was talking to my Mom. 

What I needed
was to change the subject. 

"You
would've enjoyed it," I said.

She laughed.
"Maybe. I did enjoy the last time I relaxed."

"When was
that?"

"The
fifth of July in 1992."

I didn't even
want to know. "So how have you and Dad been?" I asked. "Any
exciting news?"

"We went
to counseling a few times together."

"And? How
did it go?"

"Well, I
can only speak for myself."

Oh here we go.

"But I
was finding it really helpful."

"Uh-huh."

"And I
thought your Dad was actually making some good progress."

"Good."

"Until he
decided to have a few beers at the Carpenter's barbeque-"

I swallowed.

"And a
few more.”

“Right.”

“And I reminded
him that he wasn't supposed to drink with all the medication he's been on, but
you know what a good listener he is- especially when he's drinking-"

I closed my
eyes for a second. 

"And then
eventually, after who knows how much alcohol, he threw up all over himself in
his wheelchair in front of all the neighbors.”

“Mom!” I put a
hand on my head and clenched my hair in my fist. “Why did you even let him
drink?! Didn't the doctor say he could die?!”

“Audrey, I
didn’t let him do anything.”

I shook my
head.

“I can’t
babysit him every second if I want us to have a chance. He already treats me
like I’m some kind of wicked witch.”

“I know. I
know. I’m so sorry, Mom.”

“I’m not. He
obviously doesn’t care whether or not I respect him anymore, but maybe
embarrassing himself in front of his friends will have some sort of effect on
him.”

“And has
it?” 

“I don’t know,
honey." She sighed into the receiver. "But if he’s determined to kill
himself there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“But-”

“What would
you suggest I do?” 

“I don’t
know.” I paced the narrow hallway. “Can we send him somewhere to get
professional help? Send him to rehab? It’s obviously too much for you and Uncle
Louis.”

“Your uncle
left,” she said. “He wanted to spend time with the family he has that
appreciates his help and I don’t blame him.”

“We’ll figure
something out,” I said. “Just keep taking him to counseling in the meantime-”

“I intend
to," she said. "And I'm staying open to any suggestions people have
for me. I'm just not getting my hopes up that things are going to get better.
To be honest, I'd settle for them not getting any worse at this point."

I nodded.
"I understand."

"I'm
sorry, honey. I promised myself I wouldn't offload on you like this as soon as
you got home."

"It's
okay."

"No, it's
not."

"Don't
worry about it, Mom. I'm the one that asked."

"Still. You
probably just walked in the door."

"It's
fine," I said. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will, hun,
but don't worry about us," she said. "Worry about getting a
job."

I let my head
fall back for a second. She sure knew how to lift my spirits. “Does Dad want to
talk to me before I hang up or-” 

“I'm sure he
would, but he’s in the garage putzing around with tools or something and I
wouldn’t disturb him for all the money in the world.”

“Alright. Well,
please let him know I’m home and that he can call me if he wants to.”

“Will do.”

I felt two inches
shorter when I hung up the phone. On the plus side, I'd learned a valuable
lesson over the last two weeks which was that my family was in no way hindered
by my absence. If anything, I could probably get away with taking more breaks
for myself.

I carried my
small suitcase to my room and headed to the bathroom to change the dressing on
my coral wound. I was only half way through my course of cheap antibiotics but
the jagged edges around the gash were already turning a light pink.

The middle, on
the other hand, was still an angry red and had started to ooze puss like crazy,
but at least it was an improvement over the last few days. Plus, the change in
environment would likely accelerate the healing process. 

As I cut some
fresh pieces of gauze, I couldn't help but wish that Jack was there to bandage
it professionally for me. As much as I felt qualified to talk trash about his
poor treatment of women, I couldn't fault his bedside manner or his ability to
make me feel better.

And there it
was again, the ache in my chest I'd had since I refused to let him explain, the
nagging feeling that I should’ve given him a chance. 

I mean, maybe
there was a good reason for his absence. It didn't make sense that he would
blow me off the way he had, especially after all the romantic things he'd said and
done. 

I didn’t want
to believe that he’d only treated me well so that he could butter me up and
strip me down. Surely there was more to it than that.

There had to
be. 

Because no matter
how many times I told myself it was his loss, I still couldn’t shake the
feeling that it was mine, too.