Don't Run From Me Read online

  “I got it. Thanks, Harry,” she said as she took in the customers. Newlyweds, she was sure, by the way they clung to each other.

  Harry wandered over to her where she’d moved behind the counter with her laptop. She had the article up on Aaron’s fight the night before, and she noted Harry’s frown as he took in the photo, the headline: McCabe cleans up the night.

  She closed up the screen and glanced over to the couple, who were perusing the many gift items she knew had at least a three hundred percent mark-up, considering any stop at a dollar store in LA would uncover the same item. Here, because of the locale and the resort, anyone could hike up the price and no one would think twice at doling out cash for an item that would likely end up in next year’s garage sale.

  “Thank you,” the husband said before they left. He was obviously smart, considering he’d nearly choked at the price of the laughing donkey before he plucked it from his young wife’s hand and stuck it back on the shelf.

  Harry leaned on the counter, resting on his elbows and taking her in. She could feel him watching her and knew the question he was going to ask. “So is this just you stumbling across his article, or are you keeping tabs on him?”

  Right to the heart of the matter. Mary tried not to encourage him, tried not to let him get a read on what she was thinking or feeling or give him an idea of what she was about to do.

  “I see,” he said with a sigh.

  Quick, she needed to discourage him before her sister was walking into the cottage and demanding to know what the hell was going through her head and sticking her nose in her very personal business. “It’s just curiosity, is all, no biggy. Stumbled across the article as I was checking my airline reservation for tomorrow.” She wondered whether her nose grew as she took in the clock: two more hours and then she could close up. “Harry, don’t make something out of nothing.”

  “You sure it’s nothing? Susan is probably going to freak when she hears you were looking at his profile, and then with you going away tomorrow…”

  “Why tell her? You know my sister overreacts to everything. This is no big deal, I told you, now go on. No point us both being here, bored to tears. You won’t have the free labor after tonight.” She silently kicked herself for being so careless.

  He tapped the counter and then tossed her the keys. “Lock up and cash out in an hour if it’s still slow.” Then he paused at the door, and she knew he wasn’t going to let it go. “Your sister, I don’t keep things from her.”

  “You’re not keeping anything, because this isn’t anything. I told you before it’s just an article. Just stumbled across it in between an article about how to whiten your teeth and change a tire in under two minutes. Either of those something you want to share?” she said so matter of factly as she looked at him again, his hand on the door. When he pulled it open and waved goodnight, she realized she’d convinced him. It was then she breathed a little easier and lifted open the laptop again, pulling up the images, even the video clip and the article of the previous night’s fight, when he’d taken out his opponent in under three minutes. She’d seen his face, seen the photo from the last punch that had taken Matterson out. His face, the expression, was pure animal, that of a warrior, a man in battle.

  He gave everything he had in that ring. He was one of the best fighters and was now at the top of his game, but what had he given up to be who he was?

  She knew what he’d sacrificed. She now knew what he’d done, and tomorrow, when she flew to Alabama, she’d be confronting a lot more than she was comfortable with.

  She also knew her sister could never find out.

  5

  Aaron was back at his house in Hale County, just outside Greensboro. It was a cute place, with four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a sweet kitchen, and a cozy living room. It had been owned by only one family before, a husband and a wife with three grown kids who’d traded the east for the west, California, and a cute coastal town that boasted all the perks for retirees. Luc was convinced Aaron had bought it on a whim and had asked four times, “Why Alabama?” Chase had been busy with the congressman, so his nose hadn’t been shoved in Aaron’s business at the time, unlike now. Vic had never asked, which was fine with Aaron.

  After checking out of the hotel, Aaron had taken a minute with Chase again before meeting up with his team, Trey and Jim. This time Chase had backed off and was headed back to the kid he was adopting and the woman he was in love with. Aaron was happy for him, but he knew he hadn’t seen the last of him. Chase wasn’t one to just roll over and walk away from any part of his family.

  Aaron unpacked his clothes and dumped everything into the washer before changing into shorts and a loose gray T-shirt, then shoving his feet into sneakers. The day was hot and muggy, not the best time for a run, but he was restless and needed to work out his battered and bruised body before he started training for his next fight. A run always cleared his head, centered his thoughts.

  He stretched his arms and shoulders and took in the surrounding area, the big trees and dirt roads. This part of the country was a far step from any place he’d been. It was a slower way of life, but he was sure that was most likely from the heat, the slow economy, and a different culture. He ran until he felt his body loosening, until he felt that the edge that had been gripping him was loosening its hold.

  A four by four blasted its horn and screamed around him.

  Aaron jumped to the shoulder and took in the beast with raised suspension giant wheels and a couple good ol’ boys laughing in back. Dust was flying, and so was the truck. Assholes.

  He walked the rest of the way back to the big oak at the corner of his driveway. It gave him a sense of home, and he was considering going right to the old barn he’d converted to a gym to work a round on the bag, do some interval training, when he noticed a black car parked out front of his house. It was an average model, nothing he recognized. Had to be someone lost, considering he didn’t know anyone around these parts other than the realtor who’d sold him the house and the carpenter who’d renovated the barn, and neither drove this car.

  “Hello?” he called out when he didn’t see anyone as he walked up to the side of his house. Sweat was running down his face, and he wiped it off with the edge of his soaked T-shirt. He took in the car, a closer look at the Alabama plates, before he turned the corner and spotted a woman, her light hair pulled up in a messy bun, wearing capris and a floral shirt. She was peering in the glass at his front door. “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Oh, sorry!” She jumped and placed her hand over her chest, appearing startled. He waited as she strode down the steps. “Are you Aaron McCabe?” she said. Her voice was soft, and the way she asked and the fact he didn’t know who the hell she was had all his senses shooting off a warning. He narrowed his eyes and stared at her.

  “Who’s asking?” he said, knowing he didn’t sound friendly at all.

  “Madison Hill.” She reached out, leaning in. She was young, plump in the hips, of average height—plain, with light hair, a square jaw, and brown eyes, but her smile seemed genuine. He hesitated and noticed the way she flinched, looking at his face. Yeah, he knew how bad it looked.

  He took her hand. “Yeah, I’m Aaron McCabe. What can I do for you?”

  She had an uneasy smile. “This is kind of awkward, but I’m here because of my mother.”

  He said nothing as he wondered what this was about. He also didn’t move any closer. “Your mother, do I know her?” He didn’t really have anything to do with people in the area.

  “You were adopted, right?”

  That she was getting into his private business had him wanting to take a step back. Who was this chick, and what did she want?

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Sorry, I hope this doesn’t sound too creepy, but I think you’re my brother, and when I was going through her things, I found out so much about you, some information…”

  “Whoa, back up a second.” His ears were ringing, and he was stuck on “sister” and “mother
” and What the fuck?

  “I see I’ve rattled your cage just a bit. Did you know you were adopted? Oh, maybe I’m talking out of turn. My mother said that was always one of my flaws, my many flaws.”

  He shook his head. “I knew I wasn’t wanted,” he said, taking in this woman standing on his steps. She looked as if she were in her thirties, older than him.

  Her expression pinched as she looked off into the distance. “Not wanted? I don’t believe… It’s complicated.”

  “How so?” he asked as he walked around her and up the steps, where he pulled open his door and walked in. The screen door clattered, and he pulled off his soaked T-shirt and dumped it on a chair. He took one of two dozen water bottles from his fridge and cracked the top, then swallowed half. He heard a squeak and turned to see the woman cautiously step inside. He studied her and her awkwardness, her discomfort, and how she took in his modestly furnished place with its bare walls. How could she say they were related? It was bullshit.

  “So why would you think we’re related? Maybe your mom was a fan. Who knows, seriously?”

  Her expression said it all. “No, she didn’t like fighting. You know, you have Mom’s eyes. I could see it as soon as I saw your professional photo from a fight, but here now I can see that it’s more.” She gestured to her face. “It’s around your eyes. It’s a different color, but it’s Mom…and she told me.” There it was, the awkward smile again.

  He wiped his face and took her in, this very plain woman. “You say we’re related. Were you adopted, too?”

  She shook her head. “No. Have a brother in Indiana. We grew up not far from here, in the area.”

  Chilling, yes. He knew he’d been born here. That was why he’d bought the house. It had been crazy, stupid, and he’d never shared that with anyone. They’d think he was insane. After all, he’d been tossed away. But his mom had kept two other children? He really hadn’t been wanted, after all. “I’m not sure I want to know any more. What was wrong with me?”

  Her face took on a sympathy he didn’t like to see on anyone. It was pity.

  “No, don’t answer that,” he added rather sharply.

  “Aaron, I’m so sorry. I debated whether to come, and I even told myself it would be better to just leave you be. You seem successful and have a life. You didn’t need me coming in and messing things up for you. Look, the fact was that I had a happy childhood with a mother and father, a brother who was a year older than me. I was shocked when I learned about you.”

  “So you didn’t know?”

  She was shaking her head. “Not really. You were born when I was three. I remembered Mom had a baby. My dad was away in the army, gone for almost two years. I had forgotten who he was. I didn’t even remember you. I was so young. You were there and then you were gone.”

  He didn’t know what to say. Their mother had kept her and not him.

  “You came to find Mom how many years ago?” she asked, appearing uncomfortable, and he noticed then the gold band on her finger. He gestured to it.

  “You’re married.”

  She smiled as she glanced down. “Yes, ten years. Have two kids.”

  “It was twelve years ago I started looking for her. Tracked her to Birmingham. Patricia—”

  “Randolph,” she finished for him.

  “Yeah,” he said, holding the water bottle and then putting it down on the table. He walked to the back laundry room and took a clean shirt from a stack he’d left folded on the dryer. He pulled it on and walked back in, then gestured to the sofa. It was deep gold, with hints of brown and red. It had been pricey, a replica of a vintage set, deep and plush. She evidently understood his quiet ways, as she walked around the sofa and sat down.

  “I’m sorry, Aaron. Mom told me last year, all of it, and I was so angry at her at the time, but she made me listen. I’m glad now she did. She didn’t tell me who you were, though I kind of put it together from all the articles about you she had collected. It wasn’t that you weren’t wanted, Aaron. It was that Mom made a mistake. My dad was away all the time, a lifetime in the army. Mom was lonely, had an affair. She said it was a neighbor. Then she found out she was pregnant. My dad was gone, so of course it wasn’t his. She had a baby. I was too young to understand.

  “Even thinking back, I was too young to figure out any of it. She had you and kept you until you were almost ten months, she said, and then my dad was coming home and being restationed overseas. We were moving to Germany, and you had to go. Mom put you up for adoption. She told me you came looking for her twelve years ago, knocked on her door, and she felt horrible for sending you away. You see, my dad never knew about you, but Mom told me and begged me never to share it with him or Tom.” She had linked her fingers and was squeezing them together.

  “Tom?” He had to clear his throat as he tried to understand. His mom had cheated, and he was the expendable result. He wasn’t sure, but he thought this was worse than anything else.

  “My brother. He doesn’t know about you.”

  He nodded, because it seemed as if she didn’t plan on telling him. He was a dirty little secret.

  “I’m sorry. Were you adopted by a good family?” she added, sounding hopeful. She really was nice, this sister who was a stranger. She had no idea how much worse she was making everything by being here and telling him.

  What could he say to her, that he had been adopted when he was five after having been in how many foster homes, never shown an ounce of caring but just another mouth to feed, never held or hugged until Shelley and Jerry had taken him in? They had wanted him. “Yes,” he said, and he omitted everything else because it would only add to what he could see weighed on this lady.

  “Good. I know this may seem a little late, and you may not want to hear it, but I don’t believe a day passed that Mom didn’t think of you.”

  She was right, he didn’t want to hear it, but he said nothing, instead making a rude noise. It took him a second to understand what she was saying. “And she’s still with your dad now?”

  Again she looked so sad. “I’m so sorry, but she died last year. I think she knew it was coming, because she told me about you a few days earlier. She died in her sleep, a heart attack. My dad was devastated. That was when I found the articles on you. I cleaned out Mom’s things for him before he sold the house and moved down to Florida.”

  He didn’t know what to say, how to feel for a woman he remembered seeing briefly—the panic in her eyes, her gray hair pulled back in a loose bun. She had been slightly overweight in the middle as women her age often were. It had been terse and pointless, and it had made him feel rejected, so stupid for having made the effort to find her only to have the door slammed in his face. He didn’t know how to feel something other than a lot of hurt and betrayal from someone who should have loved him.

  He stood up, hearing his cell phone ringing from somewhere in the house. He didn’t bother looking for it as he took in the stranger he was related to. He didn’t know what to say to her. “You said my father was her neighbor?”

  She was shaking her head. “He moved away before Mom knew about you. He had a wife. I don’t know who he is.”

  Then she stood up, reached for her purse, and pulled out a card and held it out to him. “That’s my cell phone number. My husband and I live maybe twenty miles from here on the other side of Greensboro. He’s a mechanic.” She shrugged.

  He wasn’t sure why she said it that way. Then she started to the door, the awkward moment heavy. He stared at the card, wondering why she’d given it to him, but he didn’t ask.

  Then she stopped in the doorway and took him in. “Aaron, I would like to stay in touch. Hope you’d be okay with that.” She really was nice. He said nothing. “Maybe you could come for dinner, meet my husband, my kids.”

  He could see something hopeful in her expression. “You know what?” he said. “I’d like that.”

  6

  He’d washed all his clothes and had even driven into town and stopped at the grocery mar
t to fill his fridge with food. He had everything he needed to stay a week and train before having to head to Nashville, the next town, for the next fight. He’d even worked out some of the soreness in his shoulders. Just the bruising in his ribs was slowing him down a bit.

  He heard another car pull up as he pounded into his bag. The door to the barn was wide open and the sun was lower in the sky. It was still stinking hot, and he’d already showered twice today. He’d need another after this workout.

  He touched the heavy bag to stop it from swinging as he stepped back, wondering whether this was Madison returning even though he’d agreed to dinner at her place tomorrow. Now he wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. Meeting a family, nieces he didn’t know, and he’d be introduced as… He’d never clarified that part. Maybe she too wanted the fact that he was her brother kept secret.

  The car was a silver Jetta, though, with the bumper sticker of a rental car company. Who was here now? He yanked off the gloves and tossed them on a box stuffed with other equipment, pads, gloves, and walked out of the barn, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm. He took in a woman with rich hair, deep brown with glints of red. It was longish, pulled up and knotted in a twist. She wore cutoffs, sandals, and a white tank top. She was staring at the house, and he was staring at her. She didn’t know he was watching as she slipped off sunglasses and rested them on the top of her head. She closed her door, and he took in her curves, her slim long legs. Something about her bothered him. Who was she?

  Then she turned around, fanning her hand over her eyes in the setting sun. “Hey there,” she called out and lifted her hand to him.