In This Town (19 page)

Nora nodded and left.

“Look,” Tori said to Brandon when they were alone, “the doctor
wants me to stay here for the night.”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. It’s just a precaution. So you can spend the night
at your dad’s. I’m sure I’ll be home by the time you get home from school
tomorrow.”

He slid her a look. “Maybe I shouldn’t go to school tomorrow.
Just in case you take a turn for the worse.”

“Well, that’s a cheery thought. And a nice ploy to get out of
going to school, but no, sorry. You’ll have to suffer through another day of
sixth grade just like all the other twelve-year-old schmucks.”

He popped a chip into his mouth. “It was worth a try.”

And then he smiled, something he did so rarely now that tears
pricked her eyes. “Yeah. It was.” She cleared her throat. “Listen, I know it was
scary, seeing me all banged up like this, especially before I woke up—”

“I wasn’t scared,” he said quickly.

“Yeah? Well, I was scared. You know that my mom left when I was
your age, right?”

Brandon nodded, sipped his soda. “You thought she left but she
was really killed.”

“She left. When I was twelve and there was nothing I could do
about it. And I want you to know that I will never leave you. Not on purpose.
Not ever. No matter what. Okay?”

He studied her, his eyes, so like her own, were guarded and
watchful and she hoped she hadn’t done that to him, hoped she hadn’t made him
hard and cynical like she was. She wanted him to be open and caring and giving
and trusting, like his father. Wanted him to be so much better than she was.

“Okay,” he finally said. He set the empty container on the
table next to the bed and picked at the faded knees of his jeans. “I’m glad
you’re here.”

Her heart simply swelled. “Me, too. I love you, bud.”

“Love you, too,” he said, allowing her to hold him, his skinny
arms going around her neck.

He smelled of sweat and the laundry detergent she used. He felt
solid and warm and little in her arms. Brandon was everything to her and she’d
almost left him alone, almost left him without a mother.

But she hadn’t, she reminded herself, kissing the top of his
head. She was here, where she belonged. And Brandon loved her. He wasn’t mad at
her anymore. Everything was going to be all right. They were going to be
together. No matter what.

CHAPTER TWELVE

H
E
HADN
’
T
DROPPED
everything to go and see her, to see for himself that Taylor hadn’t
lied or sugarcoated how badly she was injured, Walker thought as he stalked down
the quiet hospital corridor. He hadn’t called to check on her, hadn’t pestered
the nursing staff or tracked down her doctor. He’d stayed at the police station,
had gone through the motions of reading reports, conducting interviews. He’d
worked. Done his job.

And hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Not once.

But it wasn’t up to him to think about Tori, to wonder if she
really was okay, to worry about her. He’d headed back to his room, determined to
put her out of his mind. And instead, had found himself pulling into the
hospital parking lot. Now he was roaming the halls like an idiot.

The nurses had tried to stop him since it was past visiting
hours so he’d flashed his badge and kept going.

Some days he really loved being a cop.

He found her room, saw the light from a TV flashing and went
in.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Detective Bertrand. This is a
surprise.”

“For me, too,” he said, realizing it was true, that he wasn’t
even sure why he was there.

“It’s really sort of sweet of you to check up on me this way,”
she said, her voice huskier than usual, those guarded eyes of her always
watchful. She smiled. “Were you worried about me?”

“Don’t,” he said gruffly, knowing he sounded irritated but,
hell, he was irritated. He shouldn’t be there, had no reason to be, no right to
want to check on her, to make sure she was all right.

No right to care about her.

Tori blinked but it was too well rehearsed to be taken as a
true innocent expression. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t bother with the sexy routine. You’re not quite capable
of pulling it off at the moment.”

Her cheeks turned pink and she seemed offended, crossing her
arms over the light blanket. “Who says it’s a routine?”

“Me.”

An act that fascinated him even as it rubbed him the wrong way.
He stood at the end of the bed, his hands stuffed into his pockets. She was
alive and up to her usual tricks, but she’d been hurt. She had scrapes on her
neck and her face, that beautiful, entrancing face was bruised and she had a
bump the size of an egg on her forehead. Her hair was brushed but it hung
lankly. She seemed small and vulnerable in the bed.

“You okay?” he asked, though she seemed to be just fine.

“Alive and kicking.”

“No internal injuries? Concussion?”

She sighed. “Everything on the inside seems to be working fine
and yes, I have a mild concussion. Which is why they’re making me stay here the
night.” There was a clear pout in her voice.

“Better than spending the night at the morgue.”

“You have such a way with words, Detective. Thank you for that
cheerful thought.”

He removed his hands from his pockets but then didn’t know what
to do with them. “Just laying out the facts.”

“You cops love your facts, don’t you?”

“I like to know what I’m dealing with,” Walker said slowly,
choosing his words carefully as he met her eyes. He liked to know who he was
dealing with. His ability to read people helped him catch the bad guys; his
focus on his cases made him one of the best at what he did.

He glanced around the room. She didn’t seem to want to take
over the conversation and he couldn’t speak, not when his thoughts, his
feelings, were all twisted up inside of him. Not when he was afraid he’d say
something he’d regret, admit to something best left hidden.

She had flowers on the wide windowsill, several bouquets, it
turned out. Balloons. A few stuffed animals, though why people gave a grown
woman a stuffed animal was beyond him.

He should’ve brought flowers. Had considered it briefly as he’d
passed the hospital’s gift shop window display but in the end dismissed the
idea.

He didn’t want to be among her many admirers.

Walker cleared his throat. It was warm in there, he thought,
tugging at his collar. Finally she sighed.

“Go ahead.” When he just looked at her, she added, “Tell me how
irresponsible I was to drive so fast on wet roads. I was careless and reckless,
et cetera, et cetera…”

“I didn’t come here to lecture you.”

“No? Then why did you come?”

“Damn if I know.”

Her lips twitched and, for a moment, he was terrified she was
going to start crying but then her mouth curved up into a smile, a genuine smile
that had his breath catching.

“What a surprise. Walker Bertrand not knowing something. I’m
actually relieved. It seems as if most of the time I’m the only person in the
world who doesn’t know what she’s doing, doesn’t know what she wants.”

He walked closer so that he stood over her. “Oh, I think you
know what I want,” he said lowly.

Her throat worked. It felt good, being able to take her by
surprise when she was the one always in control, always trying to keep people
guessing.

She shifted and her face paled, her lips thinned.

He helped her sit up, knew it pained her and he hated that she
was hurting.

“I’d better get going,” he said abruptly, not liking where his
thoughts were heading, not liking how much he wanted to stay.

“Oh. Well…” She cleared her throat. “Thanks for stopping
by.”

He nodded and then, because he couldn’t resist, he touched her,
just the ends of her hair, a gentle brush of his fingers. He curled his hands
into fists. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He made it to the door before her voice stopped him. “I thought
I was going to die.” He turned, saw her fingers plucking at the blanket. “I
thought…God, I really am following in my mother’s footsteps. Dead before I
really had a chance to live. To make my dreams come true.”

“You’re not your mother,” Walker said as he crossed to the
bed.

“Out of the three of us, I’m the closest to her in personality.
From the time I was little, I was aware of the similarities between us. So, I
embraced them. I knew she wasn’t perfect, but I understood her, I still
understand her.”

“You understand her how?”

Tori lifted a shoulder. “I understand that she was unhappy.
Layne hated her—she hated her so much for so long, even before she left. She
hated that she couldn’t, wouldn’t, be the type of mother Layne thought she
should be. She held on to that hate, maybe still holds on to it even knowing
what really happened to her. Nora is more forgiving. She likes to believe Mom
would’ve come back, that we would’ve had this happy little family once Mom
realized she’d made a huge mistake.”

“You don’t agree?”

“I knew Mom would never come back,” she said matter-of-factly.
“For eighteen years we all had our fears. Layne feared Mom would come back to
wreak more havoc on our lives, on our father’s life. Nora feared Mom wouldn’t
come back, that she’d never know what she was missing out on by not being a part
of her daughters’ lives.”

Tori sighed, stared over his shoulder.

“What were you afraid of?” he asked quietly when she remained
silent.

He didn’t think she was going to answer or would, more than
likely, give him one of her seductive smiles, one of those come-hither looks and
laugh, say she wasn’t afraid of anything. If she’d done either of those, he told
himself, he’d be able to walk away. Could finally get her out of his head once
and for all.

Would be able to convince himself she wasn’t worth his time,
his thoughts or the conflicting feelings she brought out in him.

“I was afraid I’d end up just like her,” Tori admitted softly.
“That inside, I was the same as she was. I was afraid I’d be stuck in this town
in a marriage I didn’t want, always wishing for something better. Layne was
angry she left. Nora thought she’d never come back,” Tori repeated. “And I just
wished she’d taken me with her.”

* * *

T
ORI
CRINGED
.
Why had she admitted that? She
preferred to keep the truth hidden. It was safer that way. No one could use it
against you. No one could hurt you if they didn’t know who you really were, what
you really wanted.

Walker was getting the better of her. He confused her,
intrigued her. Attracted her.

She hadn’t heard or seen him since Saturday night and it killed
her that she’d wanted to. That she’d wanted him to come to her, to track her
down.

Wanted him to seek her out, to pursue her like other men did.
Except, she was afraid that, unlike the other guys, she’d let him catch her.

She waited for Walker to give her one of his cool looks, to
tell her in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t worth his or anyone else’s time.
But he surprised her yet again.

She wasn’t sure she liked being surprised.

“You think you should feel guilty because you don’t hate your
mother?” he asked. “You were a kid when she left.”

“I loved her. Don’t get me wrong, I saw her clearly. Just as
clearly as Layne did but I didn’t hate her for it, I didn’t long for her to be
different. I saw her and I accepted her and I still loved her. She was like
this…light…this beacon. Whenever she entered a room, everyone paid attention.
Everyone.”

“Seems to me, the problem with all that attention is that some
of it’s going to be negative.”

Tori nodded. “It was. That was another lesson she taught me.
Some people were going to hate you, resent you for being what they’re not. For
being too afraid to go after what they want.”

He nudged the side of her thigh. Startled, she scooted over and
he sat on the edge of the bed. “What did she want?”

“More,” Tori said simply. “A hell of a lot more than small-town
life where everyone knew her every move and tried to pry open all her secrets.
More than marriage to a man she didn’t love, not enough.”

He laid his hand on her knee and even through the thin material
of the blanket, his skin was warm, his touch reassuring. “More than having three
daughters?”

A painful lump formed in Tori’s throat. “She loved us. She just
didn’t love us enough. Didn’t love us more than she loved herself.”

“And you think you take after her in that way? That you don’t
love Brandon enough?”

“I shouldn’t have taken my eyes off the road, not even for a
second. He was scared. I scared him.”

“It was an accident, a mistake,” Walker pointed out. “It
happens.”

“I seem to make more than my fair share.”

“Guess everyone excels at something.”

“At least I’m number one at something. I used to think I was a
good mother. That if there was one thing in this world I was really excellent
at, it was being Brandon’s mom. And now I don’t even have that.”

Walker leaned back, his shirt pulling tight against his flat
abs, his broad chest. “Just because a kid doesn’t like how you’re doing things,
doesn’t mean you’re a bad parent. Most of the times I was pissed at my parents
it was because they wouldn’t let me do something I shouldn’t have been doing
anyway.”

She agreed with him but ever since the divorce, she’d had to
deal with Brandon’s bad attitude and she hated never knowing what kind of mood
her son was going to be in. What she was going to do or say that would put him
into a full pout, make him sullen and bitter. She was tired of being the bad
guy.

“I was so scared when I was pregnant. Scared and angry.
Resentful. I’d messed up, yes, but I didn’t deserve to be saddled with a kid at
eighteen, did I? To be stuck with one man for the rest of my life. I had plans.
Big, huge, grand plans and with one missed period, with one positive pregnancy
test, all those plans were ruined.”

“You considered terminating the pregnancy?”

Shame filled her, made her sick to her stomach. “I considered
it, yes, but I knew I couldn’t go through with it. I told Greg and he proposed.
God, we were so young.” Tori could still picture Greg’s face. He’d been shocked
but had quickly told her he’d take care of her and the baby, that they’d get
married and everything would work out. “Too young to have any idea what we were
getting into. We got married the day after he graduated.”

“What made you decide to get married instead of having the baby
and making those grand plans a reality on your own?”

Uncertainty. And the bone-deep fear that she couldn’t survive
on her own. “Greg proposed. He loved me.”

And she’d known it was okay because she hadn’t loved him back,
not the same way. Not desperately, not enough to lose herself or to risk being
made a fool. Not like her father had loved her mother.

But she was stronger now. Smarter. She was making things happen
and though today hadn’t quite ended the way she’d planned, she’d taken the first
step toward a new life.

“I’d convinced myself marriage was the best decision,” she
continued. “That I could be happy being his wife, being a mother in Mystic
Point, that it’d be enough for me.”

But she hadn’t counted on wanting more for herself. On how
disappointed she would be when she realized that the only person you could truly
depend upon was yourself.

“When Brandon was born, I was terrified to have the
responsibility of this little life on my hands. To realize it was up to me to
care for him, twenty-four hours a day, to care
about
him every minute for the rest of my life. To worry and wonder if he was safe.
Healthy. Happy. It was so scary…so suffocating. I wasn’t sure I wanted it,” she
admitted hoarsely. “If I wanted him.”

“You were just a kid,” Walker said.

“I was old enough to have sex,” Tori said flatly. “Old enough
to know the consequences of having sex and not caring about those consequences.
Not enough. I took care of him, fed and bathed him and changed his diapers. For
the first two weeks of his life, I didn’t know how to connect with him.”