Page 19 of All In Good Time
“If you’re having doubts, we can fix that.”
Her head whipped around toward him, eyebrows furrowed in shock. But he didn’t look as seductive as his words sounded. He grinned at her, delighting in her reaction. A bubble of scandalized laughter rose in her chest, and despite trying to hold it back, it boiled over. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”
“Your loss.”
They were in front of her house soon enough, pulling into the driveway as the early evening rolled in with a winter breeze. He put the car into park and the heavy engine reverberated through her as they sat there. She felt like she was back to that first night they’d met, sitting in the dark in her driveway. The night she gave him her number and told him he could come to her when he needed to.
“You never came back.” She cringed at the sudden words that burst from her before she could stop them. There were a million questions rolled into one: What happened? Why did you never call? Are you okay? “After that night,” she clarified, as if it made things better.
He paused, staring at his steering wheel. His posture no longer held the swagger she saw in the hallways. Next to her, his back was straight, his knuckles tight, his face serious. She wondered if she would regret bringing it up.
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
Becca shook her head. “If it bothered me, I would have told you so. I never say anything I don’t mean.”
“You don’t deserve to be the one dealing with it.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper. Gone was the smirk, the chuckles, the bedroom eyes.
“And you are?”
Blue eyes met hers, and she held her breath, waiting for an answer. She got one in the form of a look. Of a sadness buried so deep it was visible for only a second.Yes.
“I don’t like being alone either, Derek. We could keep each other company—if you’d like.”
He pursed his lips, unsure and conflicted. He finally gave one quick, reluctant nod.
“Call or come over whenever you need. Just like I told you.” Or rather just as she’dwrittenhim…on the note he probably threw away.
She opened the car door, a cutting breeze slicing through the warmth the enclosed space had provided. She stepped out, but he caught her again by the arm, lightly, right about the wrist.
“Where are you going?”
She furrowed her brow. “Inside.”
Softly, he pulled her back and reached across her to grab hold of the door. He pulled it shut. Before she could ask what he was doing, he grabbed the familiar first aid kit from the glove compartment and placed it onto the center console.
With curiosity, Becca watched as Derek silently lifted her sleeve once again, looking lightly at her wrist, eyeing a small scratch and pressing gently at the swelling. In a quick few minutes, her hand had a small bandage on the scratch, and her wrist was expertly wrapped to help prevent unnecessary movement and further any damage.
It all happened so quick, with the only sound of Derek rustling and Van Halen playing through the stereo.
Giving one final look over of his work, he nodded in approval and met her eyes once again, a decision made. “It’s about time I get to do something for you.”
8
September 1985 | After
Becca had never been to Madison. In fact, she barely went anywhere. Despite her mom being around the country at any given time, Becca was forced to remain in her humble little town. So Madison was a shock. The streets, even at one a.m., had people on the sidewalks, cars passing them. She’d heard that cities never rest, but she wouldn’t have imagined that theytrulynever rested. A city twenty times the size of Highburg—any other day she could enjoy it.
Instead, her hands nervously wrung together as she paid attention to every single dark car that looked remotely like Derek’s Monte Carlo. She had hoped it would be easy to spot it, but despite it being one of the most recognizable in Highburg, it would barely stand out here.
“Any idea where he would go?” Marty asked, driving as slow as he could to look at the passing crowds without infuriating the people behind him.
Becca bit her lip. She had no idea, but she might be able to deduce some possibilities. The first thought would be a hotel. He would need a place to stay. But even a summer of lifeguarding at the local pool wouldn’t make him enough money to stay in a hotel in a bigger city like this for very long.
It pained her to think it, but he was probably sleeping in his car.
So where else? Where else would he go that could pose as both shelter and a distraction?
“A bar.” Before he met Becca, he liked to go to the few bars there were in Highburg a lot—according to him. He told her once, when they were sitting quietly in the dark and she couldn’t see his face, that drinking had been the best way to distract himself from everything else. After they met, though, she didn’t see him drinking a whole lot. “Or somewhere he can drink.”
