Page 28 of Full Circle

THE VOW

WESLEY

I hated walking away from Celeste like that. She looked so small and helpless, two traits I had never associated with her before. No matter what any of them said, there was no way I was ever going to be polite or respectful to that Desiree woman. She reminded me of the women who hung around my father’s country club in hopes of catching a rich man’s attention. They never minded being wife number three or four as long as there was an unlimited credit card attached. Desiree was the last person in the world I would have picked out for Mr. Hendricks.

Seeing Mr. Hendricks like that had been an even bigger blow. He looked like he was sick with more than just migraines, but I didn’t know how to approach that subject without upsetting Celeste. She had enough on her plate now that she was facing a new stepmother and stepsiblings. Mr. Hendricks must have the patience of a saint because hearing Desiree’s clacking heels would drive me downright batty.

“He’ll need it now,” I muttered under my breath.

I was nearing the community pool and a group of teenagers was walking out through the gate. Travis was with them, still in his red lifeguard swim trunks. They were all laughing as they tried to enjoy one of the last few nights of summer break. I envied them because they didn’t have their friendships hanging on the whim of a stranger. Desiree had known me all of five minutes and possessed the power to keep me away from Celeste.

It was therefore rather stupid on Travis’ part to nod in my direction and ask, “Wes, my man! How was that action with Celeste?”

“Excuse me?” I paused, waiting for him to reword his question and for the morons he was with to get rid of their shit-eating grins, like they knew a secret I didn’t.

Only Travis made it worse.

“C’mon, man, you’re trying to tell us that you got a glimpse of Celeste in that bikini and didn’t try to lay some pipe?!” All three of the boys cracked up, slapping hands and exchanging whoops. It was the dumbest display of small dick energy on this side of the Mason-Dixon.

My jaw clenched. “Wow, I hope someday I can be as clever as you,” I quipped.

“Huh?” They looked like Neanderthals as they exchanged confused looks.

It was all the more satisfying when my fist cracked Travis across his nose. The crunch that echoed, followed by blood spurting everywhere momentarily diffused some of my anger.

“Whoa, man, what the hell?!” One of his friends pulled Travis out of my reach before they ran off down the street, shouting over their shoulders about me being a lunatic.

“KEEP HER NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!” I screamed after them.

There was a black cloud of anger and despair circling in my vicinity as I walked into Shirley’s house and slammed the door behind me. She jumped awake from her spot in the armchair, her knitting needles clattering from her lap to the wood floor. “Wesley?” she called at my retreating form. “Is that you?”

“Who else would it be?” I snapped back. There was no way she could hear me above my stomps upstairs and my low voice, but I still felt a twinge of guilt. Celeste’s nagging voice reminded me that Aunt Shirley didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my frustration when she hadn’t done anything wrong. But at the moment, it was hard to care.

This was not how I pictured my first evening back in River’s Run. My homecoming was supposed to be a surprise, but the whole Hendricks family had dropped some bombs on me that far outshone my arrival. Part of me was pissed off that Celeste hadn’t told me anything. She didn’t need to suffer alone all summer. But I also knew Celeste better than I knew myself, so I knew without a doubt that she stayed silent because she didn’t want to ruin my trip. In spite of everything she knew about my dad and I, she still believed that someday we would be able to reconcile. As if I would ever let that happen.

Pacing back and forth in the small space made me feel like a caged tiger, but I didn’t know what else to do to calm myself down. I had been looking forward to this night all summer and the reality of the night was completely wrong. Rage was simmering just below the surface, a tea kettle about to blow right under my skin. Squaring up to Travis hadn’t taken the edge off. If I stood still for a moment, I could almost see my skin vibrating from the restraint.

“Oh, fuck this!” I ground out after ten minutes of no reprieve.

The way I thundered down the stairs should have been enough to wake up Aunt Shirley, but her snores drowned out any noise I made. Without giving it a second thought, I snatched her car keys from their hook by the door and took off into the night. Technically I didn’t have my permit yet, but my dad’s driver had given me enough lessons to understand the basics. It was a summer night in River’s Run, so it wasn’t like traffic would be busy. A high speed chase with the sheriff sounded appealing with the mood I was in anyway.

Driving to Celeste’s was as easy as I expected; there wasn’t another soul on the road. As I got closer to her drive, I killed the lights on Shirley’s Oldsmobile and let the full moon guide my way. Parking the car behind a grove of evergreens near the road, I circled the house and kept to the tree line. A lone light was shining from Celeste’s window while the rest of the place was ensconced in darkness. For the first time ever, a sliver of trepidation trickled down my spine from being on the property. Desiree and her uppity attitude changed things, but at that moment, it wasn’t enough to stop me from seeing my girl.

Massive tree branches brushed against the side of the house from the old dogwood, creating an easy route to her window. I didn’t want to chance the door because I knew how often the old wood stuck. It would cause a ruckus that would wake the whole house if I tried to shove it shut when that happened. Better to go for the window and slip inside.

Celeste was visible through the glass lying on her stomach on a tiny bed that had been shoved into the far corner of the room. It barely qualified as a twin, sending another irrational shock of fury through my system. How could Mr. Hendricks let Celeste sleep on something that small after having an entire room to herself her whole life? The choice was so out of character for him that I almost wanted to go wake him up and make him justify it to my face.

She shifted, tucking her hair behind her ear and turning the page of the battered novel open on the pillow. Her ankles crossed in the air over her ass, drawing my attention to the round curve of it. Booty shorts of some sort of spandex material hugged the cheeks. How pathetic had my life become that I was jealous of a scrap of material for clinging to Celeste’s body when I couldn’t?

The window was already ajar in a vain attempt to lure a nonexistent breeze inside. It only took a quick jerk of my arm to open it wide enough that my body could slide through. Celeste’s head darted up in surprise, her mouth forming a round O of alarm. She swung herself upright, tugging a blanket over her body to shield it from view. I frowned at her reaction.

“Wesley Madden, what on Earth are you doing here?!” Celeste panic whispered.

I dug at the heel of one shoe to pull it off before repeating the action on the other and joined her on the tiny bed. It was as hard as a 2x4 and could not possibly offer any kind of comfort conducive to sleep.

“Did you really think I was only gonna see you for a few minutes on my first night back?” I asked with a smirk. She glanced towards the door, keeping the blanket high along her collar bone, which bugged me to no end.

I yanked the blanket away from her and crumpled it into a ball that I placed behind my head as I leaned back against the wall.

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