Elizabeth Finn - Unforgiven

Six Months Before

“She’s getting out in a couple months, Darren.” His parents were sitting across from him at the restaurant table. It was their Sunday dinner, but this wasn’t what he’d expected to hear them say.

“What happened to ten years?”

“Out early for good behavior. We assumed this would happen. It’s not really a surprise.”

“Is she coming back here?”

His dad shrugged. “I don’t know. Her mother is all she has left, and she still lives here, so I would assume so.”

“I wish she would just stay away forever,” he muttered as he set his fork down.

“Well, there’s a good chance she won’t. And that means there’s a good chance you’re going to run into her at some point. You’ve struggled with your anger toward her—”

“I’ve struggled with a lot of things, but my hatred for Bailey isn’t one of them. I hate her. It’s really pretty simple.”

“You two were friends. That comes with a lot of baggage in a situation like this.”

Friends with Bailey. Yeah. She’d been everything to him, inappropriate or not. Her friendship had meant more to him than just about anything. But there wasn’t a chance in hell of reclaiming that. Not the friendship, not the desire, not his feelings for her. He wasn’t conflicted in the least. He just plain hated her, and he hoped she knew just how much.

“As long as she stays away from me, we’ll be just fine. I have no interest in seeing her. She’s nothing to me anymore.”

“You sure about that?” His mother was being incessant. Hell yes, he was sure.

He was finally at a place where he could tolerate his life. He was in his own home at last. It was peaceful, and he could escape there and ignore the world. He was busy at the hospital, but it was a far cry more manageable than the time constraints of residency. He was at a point where his life was finally not a painful chaotic thing that felt like it was two seconds from unhinging and throwing him into a tailspin. Sure, he was still angry. He focused on it far more than he ought to, but it wasn’t all-consuming anymore. There were even times when he felt like the man he’d been before his sister’s death. He thought about his future—a real future with a wife and children someday. A real life. Maybe real happiness too. He was close, and there was no chance in hell she was going to fuck that up for him. He’d fought through the past few years of his life, and that was her fault. He wasn’t going to fall apart again.

Bailey Trent was nothing but a bad memory, and he wasn’t going to see that memory take him down now.

“Yes, Mom. I’m sure. Bailey’s nothing to me.”

Now

She’d avoided him for the last week by showing up after he left in the morning and leaving before he came home at night, but it became impossible when the hospital was down a doctor.

“Hi.” She hadn’t heard his voice since their almost-dinner at Harry and Sally’s the previous Wednesday.

She’d instantly gone home and called Michelle, who showed up at her door less than fifteen minutes later. “So, I’ve said nothing about the fact that you accepted a job offer from the man, but this? Bailey, what the hell?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Duh. How about setting yourself up for pain. You don’t deserve that.”

“I know. It’s not that. I know it may seem like some self-destructive decision, but it’s not. I can’t explain it to you other than that.”

“You don’t have to. Listen, if you think this man is going to forgive you for Jess’ death, profess his undying love and devotion, and then you’re going to ride off into the sunset together in his fucking expensive SUV, you’re kidding yourself. This ain’t no Danielle Steel novel, Bailey. He’s just not the same Darren he used to be.”

“I know.” Did she really? She kept searching for her Darren in him, and the occasional glimpse of him she got kept her going, kept her in Savoy when logic said it was time to move on.

“I’m glad you stayed in Savoy, Bailey. I really am, but I’m also not sure why you did.” Bailey didn’t even try to answer that question, and now it was a week later, and she still wasn’t sure why. She was avoiding him after all.

But now there was no avoiding him. His voice sent a shiver through her body, and she sucked in a quick breath. This was why she’d been avoiding him. He affected her, and she was never quite sure if the effect would be painful or feel good. “Hi.”

“We’re short a doctor tonight. I may have to pull a double. I just don’t know right now. Can you stay?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“I’ll call when I know what time I’ll be leaving so you can get going.”

“Okay.”

She took Macy for a jog, not nearly as far as Darren had taken her, but far enough she was sweating her ass off by the time they returned. When she tried to find shampoo and conditioner and even soap for that matter in the spare bathroom, she struck out. It was utterly empty. He obviously didn’t entertain company often. She debated not showering, but one whiff of her armpits, and she decided there was no chance in hell she wasn’t going to get clean. She stopped cold as she stood in his master bathroom doorway. This was an invasion of his privacy. Not that she didn’t have permission to be anywhere she needed to be in his home, but that was limited to putting away the towels, wiping the faucets, emptying the trash. This was not the same, and as she stripped out of her smelly clothes and left them on his bathroom floor, she covered her breasts as though he was watching her.

His shower was large, and she spent an overly long time standing under the hot water. His shampoo smelled like him. Duh. The not so duh part was she was instantly wet, and her groin was pulsing at nothing more than the scent she associated with him. She finally finished, blasting herself with cold water to calm her arousal before stepping out. It did little good, and once she was dry, she found herself walking around his bedroom. She looked at the artwork on the walls; she studied the pictures of his family. She fought the tears as her eyes lit on a picture of him and Jess that sat on his dresser. She turned from it quickly, and her attention fell to his nightstand. She knew what side of the bed he slept on because he didn’t always have a chance to make his bed, and there was always one side still made for the most part and the other not. Perhaps he just thought he should give her something to do since he was paying her.

This had been one of those days when she’d made his bed, and she sat on the side of his bed where earlier in the day she’d pulled up the sheets and remade the mess of blankets. She’d never snooped in his nightstand, but she was reaching for the drawer before she could stop herself. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to see his private business, but in her current hot and horny state, it’s exactly what she wanted to see.

The half empty box of condoms left pain in her gut, and she instantly regretted opening the drawer. The tube of lubricant was a double-edged sword. Her arousal intensified at the sight of it, but her guts clenched again. She really shouldn’t have gone snooping. But then her eyes caught on an edge of paper. It was up against the side of the drawer, and all she could see was the backside of it. It was a picture. She reached with trembling fingers to the paper. She wasn’t sure why she was afraid to see it, except that it wasn’t out for a reason. She grabbed the corner, lifting it to look, and the tears she’d stifled moments before started falling pathetically.

It was a picture she knew from years ago. It was high school graduation, and she was standing next to Darren. His arm was around her, and he was looking at her as she laughed. She remembered the moment like it was yesterday. She’d been talking to Darren after the ceremony, and Jess had asked them to take a picture. He’d wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and hers was draped across his lower back, gripping his waist. What you couldn’t see in the picture was that moments before Jess snapped the picture, he’d reached his free hand behind his back and pinched her hip. She’d busted out laughing in surprise, and he’d smiled at her. She loved this picture. It used to be up in Jess’ dorm room, and she hadn’t seen it since the morning they’d left for spring break six years ago.

She put the picture back as she found it, straightened the bed, and took the cordless phone to the spare room so she wouldn’t miss his call. It was late, and she was tired. She opened up the windows and listened to the rain as it started to come down. It was warm, but the storms coming in were cooling the weather. She fell asleep as Macy hopped up on the bed and snuggled in beside her.

* * *

She woke when Macy hopped down from the bed, and when she returned and the bed shifted again, she groaned and reached back to give her a pat. What she didn’t expect to touch was a fabric-covered thigh with hard muscle underneath. She yelped, but the moment she started to sit, his arm clutched her close from behind her body.

Her eyes fluttered as he pulled her backside closer to his front side. He was aroused, and he was doing nothing to hide that from her. She was curled up, lying somewhere between her hip and her stomach, and her top arm was stretched out and angled up toward her head. She’d redressed in her sleeveless, casual, cotton sundress after her shower. It had elastic along the top, and then loose fabric down to the elastic waist. It had inched down as she slept, and while still covering her breasts, it was close to leaving her exposed. As it turned out, there was no need to worry about such things. He reached to the top band of elastic that sat by her armpit and pulled it down below her breast. She was panting, holding her body rigidly in place. He groaned quietly as he pulled himself up to lounge on his elbow so he could look down on her side at her exposed breast.