Kept (44 page)

He veered north, toward the glittering skyline and Navy Pier and the huge, lit-up Ferris wheel. The path was empty with sporadic lampposts lighting his way.

Up ahead someone sat near the bottom of another staircase leading to street level. The person was hunched over, back curved as if he—she?—was hugging her knees to her chest. The woman lowered her head.

Dillan paused. Whoever it was wanted privacy too.

Except the person on the stairs looked kind of familiar. Kind of like…

He glanced over his shoulder as he turned. The figure looked his way. It was Miska, rocking back and forth, her arms clenched around her stomach as if she were in pain.

“Hey.” He stopped. “You okay?”

She said nothing, her silky straightened hair falling between her face and his.

He hesitated. If she wanted him around, she’d say so. And yesterday she’d told him no.

But she was clearly hurting in a way he hadn’t seen before, in a way worse than after Kendall had beaten her.

“Miska?” He neared her. She sniffed, and he paused, foot on the step beneath her. “What’s wrong?”

She raised her head and swiped her nose, moist cheeks reflecting the dim lamplight. Her fist ground against her thigh. “My dad. He—” She crumpled before him, her hands covering her face as her whole body shook in silence.

Dillan eased onto the stair beside her and waited, not touching her lest she not want it.

Why was he always crossing paths with this woman? She’d already turned him down for tonight, and now he had to stumble across her on his attempt to forget her. Why?

Beside him she sucked in a shuddering breath. “Why do you always have to see me at my worst?”

He couldn’t help the chuckle.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing. Not you. Sorry.”

She peeked at him.

He smiled back. “You gonna be okay?”

She stared at the lake, like she wondered that herself. “My
dad
is writing a book about his reunion with all of his kids. He decided to meet us so he could make money off us.”

Dillan furrowed his eyebrows. She had to be kidding.

“Adrienne told me he was after money. I didn’t believe her. And now she won’t speak to me because of him.”

No loss there.

“Better yet, I learn from reading the manuscript that my father never cared about my mom. She was just—” Her jaw tensed. “His first marriage wasn’t going well, so he found this cute, blonde thing at work and used her to forget. Just—” She threw her hand up and let it flop onto her lap. “And then,
then
, she ends up pregnant with twins, Jody finds out and lets him have it, and he leaves her because she’s going nuts. Decides to stay with my mom awhile. They end up in Vegas and get married, and he realizes he’s made a mistake. He never loved my mom. Never loved my brothers. Never loved—” Her voice cracked.

Dillan tugged her hand from her lap.

“He says he loved Jody. And the two women after my mom. But not her. And not us.” She faced him, her eyes glossy. “He told Adrienne that he and I were the closest, and now I see it was a lie.”

What did he say? What could anyone say to make it better?

“You know what’s worse? I think he told this editor about me and Mark.”

Dillan stilled.

“I found a piece of paper that looks like notes from a conversation, you know? One of them says, ‘Include chapter on Miska and Mark.’ He told her, Dillan. Or him. Whoever. He told this editor about Mark, and now that publisher is interested in his book.”

He squeezed her hand.

“When does it stop?”

It was a good question.

“Why does all this keep happening? Why doesn’t God step in and do something? Doesn’t he care?”

He laced his fingers through hers. “He cares, Miska.”

“I don’t feel it.”

“I know. Sometimes we don’t. But he cares.”

She studied the lake. “Maybe for you.”

But not her? “Why wouldn’t he care about you?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you? Do you want names? Is that it?”

“That’s gone, Miska. He doesn’t see it anymore. He sees you as pure and perfect as Jesus.”

“Well, I still see it.”

“Then the problem’s with you, isn’t it?”

A breeze lifted her hair from her shoulders, blew it gently across her face. She swiped it away. “I can’t stop the news about me and Mark from leaking. I can’t stop you from picturing the men I’ve been with. All of that will always be there.”

She tried to tug her fingers away, but he held on. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.”

She ducked her head, protecting herself again with her hair.

He brushed it aside and slid a finger along her chin, turning her toward him until she had to meet his eyes. “Miska.” Just saying her name was enough to leave him weak. “I really like you. I do. From the day I tripped and wiped out in front of you, you’ve fascinated me.”

Her mouth tipped at one corner.

“I tried to stay away from you, but it didn’t happen.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” He wiped her hurt away. “I wonder now if God wanted us to meet, to talk. That’s why I couldn’t avoid you. I watch you grow as a Christian, and I…”
Just say it, Foster
. “I wonder sometimes if he doesn’t want us together for good.”

Her fingers stilled in his hand.

“I just freaked you out, didn’t I?”

She laughed, and he chuckled with her. “No. Shocked me maybe, but scared me?” She peeked at him, shook her head.

He wet his lip to continue, and her eyes darted there. He swallowed. Breathed deeply. In and out. In. Out.

She squeezed his fingers, her skin soft and smooth. “I can’t imagine why God would want you with someone like me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“You’re so… so…” The sorrow in her eyes made him ache. “You’ve waited, Dillan, for one woman. And I haven’t.”

“Well, I would hope not,” he joked.

“Be serious.”

“I am. I’m nowhere near as perfect as you make me out to be.”

Somehow they’d moved right next to each other, her arm snug against his. She rested her head against him. “You’re pretty close,” she said, “even if you do like to speed.”

He chuckled and nudged her up with his shoulder. “See? We are right for each other.”

Her dark eyes glowed in the deepening night.

“Miska, I hurt you yesterday, and I hate to say it but I’m sure I’ll hurt you again, somewhere down the road. I’m just a guy. And a pretty average one at that.”

“You’re way beyond average.”

She leaned against him again, her other hand covering their joined hands. He spread his feet wider to support her and watched the lake breezes tease her hair. All he wanted was to wrap his arms around her and turn her face up to his, kiss her for a completely different reason than the reason he’d had before.

“I want to date you, Miska.”

She stayed against his side. “You are
so
messed up.”

“I’m serious. I want to see what the future holds.”

She straightened and looked at him. “Honestly, Dillan. Why?”

“Because of who you are. Who you’ve become. Because when we talk, I hear the fire in you to know God, to love him with everything you have.” He bit his lip and forced his gaze to stay on her eyes. “You’ve gone through a lot in a short time, and you haven’t given up.”

“It’s been tempting.”

“Sure, but you haven’t.”

She watched him back.

“I look at you and see—” Should he say it? He swallowed. “I see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. There’s just… something about you, Miska. I want to know you better. Spend time with you. Spend my money on you—”

She ducked her head.

Dillan reached for her chin again and tipped her face up. Her eyes glimmered, and he lowered his head, kissed her gently once. Twice. Waited to see what she’d do.

She stayed where she was, a breath away from him, giving him permission for one more kiss.

Just one more.

He made it last, relishing the way she kissed him back.

When he opened his eyes, she was already watching him.

He lowered his hand and smiled. It’d be great if she said something. Told him how she felt maybe.

But she didn’t.

He cleared his throat. “You want to stay out or go in?”

“I can’t go in. I have a showing.”

Already? “How long should that take?”

“Another half hour maybe?”

Lake water splashed onto the concrete. Footsteps sounded on the sidewalk behind Miska, but Dillan ignored them. “I think the light show’s started. You want to watch?”

“Sure.” She smiled at him but didn’t move.

So she didn’t want to leave either. How tempting to stay here and go on kissing her, go on loving her. He couldn’t look away and leaned in for one more kiss.

The footsteps began to run.

Miska met the gentleness of his lips. The way he kissed her, like she was his treasure—had anyone kissed her this way before?

Dillan pulled away and looked past her.

She heard it, turned and saw it—a dark-hooded figure racing at them, a step away.

The figure’s fist caught Dillan square in the jaw.

Miska screamed.

Dillan fell against the concrete stairs, and the man kicked him in the side. Kicked him lower. Dillan cried out and curled into a ball.

“Stop it!” She grabbed the man’s arm and pulled, but he shoved her down and kicked Dillan again while she climbed to her feet.

Dillan didn’t move.

She wrenched the man’s sleeve, and he turned on her, the street light revealing his features.

Mark.

He snapped his arm free and grabbed her forearms. “You whore,” he hissed. “How could you?”

She pushed against his chest, but his fingers tightened, pinching her skin. “Mark, stop it. Let me go.”

“I’ll let you go. When I’m good and done with you.”

He marched down the concrete, dragging her from view of anyone who might walk by the stairs. She tripped and fell to one knee. He yanked her up, leaving skin to mark where she’d been.

Blood trickled down her shin. “Mark, please.”

The burn in her knee set in, and she tried to dig her sandaled feet into the concrete. Her wrist flamed beneath his grip.

“After everything I did for you.” He yanked her arm, and she bounced up against him, pain shooting through her shoulder. He held her tightly, his chest heaving against hers. “After
everything
, this is how you repay me.”

“I didn’t ask you to kill your wife!”

His jaw clenched. “You begged me. Don’t think you’re innocent.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not innocent. I’ll never forget that, but you made the decision to murder her.”

He swore, spit landing just below her eye. His fingers dug deeper into her arm, and she forced herself still.

She’d never seen him like this. Never imagined he could be angry enough to—to kill. She took a deep breath, tried to think, tried to slow her racing heart. “Why are you here?”

One hand loosened its grip. “Because I needed to know where we stood.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “And I know, don’t I? You’re with him.” He groaned, and his hand relaxed a little more. “
Why
, Miska?”

She’d destroyed his life. Destroyed Darcie’s life. Destroyed their child’s life. Tears flooded her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Mark.”

His eyes shone as if tears threatened him too. “You begged me, Miska. You begged me not to end it. I didn’t want to, but I had to so it would look like—” He let go of one arm and turned toward the darkness of the lake, fighting for composure. “I just want to know what happened.”

She longed to look back to see if Dillan had moved, if anyone had seen him crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. But she didn’t dare. “You said it was over. I believed you.”

“I didn’t mean it. I never meant it.”

“You could have divorced her.” Her voice trembled. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

He gripped her again. “Come with me, Miska. Love me. Let me love you. We were so good together.”

No, they weren’t.

“Remember?” He shook her. “Don’t you remember?” He shook her harder, her head bouncing. “Please, Miska. Don’t make me do this!”

“I can’t. It would be wrong—”

His laugh was bitter and painful. “I shouldn’t have wasted time on you. The guys said you weren’t worth it. My life’s a nightmare now—because of a piece of trash like you.”

He pulled her close, pressed his mouth against hers. She tried to escape, but he snaked an arm around her waist and held her flush against him, his other hand gripping her head, forcing her face to his.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t hardly breathe.

He kept kissing her, moving around the concrete as if he were forcing her to dance. She braced both hands against his chest and, with everything she had, pushed.

Mark let go.

Lake Michigan enveloped her, the cool water closing over her and erasing the view of his hardened jaw. Her feet kicked the corrugated harbor wall, and she twisted, pushing for the surface.

When she broke through, Mark crouched on the edge of the sidewalk.

She sputtered and reached for the wall, but he grabbed her hair and jerked her face forward, down into the water.

He was trying to kill her.

She fought the realization, feet toeing the wall. She grabbed his wrist and tried to pry his fingers from her hair.

His palm flattened over her head, his fingertips digging into her scalp and pushing her deeper, deeper toward her death.

Panic burst through her chest. She clawed for the top of the wall. She grabbed its edge and clung to it, the metal biting into her skin. But his strength won, and she plunged further into the water.

His hand slipped off her head.

She fought back to the surface and gasped for air.

Lying on his stomach, Mark grabbed her head with both hands and plunged her into the water again, one hand gripping her neck. She clawed at it, scratching and digging. She kicked her legs and twisted. Air. She needed air.

Mark’s fingers tightened on her neck, then banged her head against the metal wall. His fingers released, fumbled across her skin, scratched. Vanished.

She was free!