Page 82 of A Way Out
Her smile faltered, and Christ, he wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go. But seriously, what was she doing here? She had to have realized he’d be here.
“Did you say congratulations?” he asked.
She nodded. “I talked to Lacey. She told me you don’t need me anymore.”
I’ll always need you. “How do you figure?”
She waved one of the glasses. “You were offered a contract. The band. You did it. Your hard work paid off.”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “You, uh, actually had a lot to do with our success, so, um, thanks. But I still don’t get why you’re here.”
She stepped forward and pressed one of the glasses into his hand. Touching her rim to his, she drank deeply before sighing. “I’ve needed that drink for an hour now, but I didn’t want to take it until you got here.”
“Okay.” What the hell else was he supposed to say right now?
“Try it,” she encouraged. “Cash isn’t the only one around here with good taste in champagne.”
And there it was. The reminder that they were from different worlds. And those two worlds did not connect.
They collided.
He sipped the champagne to give himself a moment to collect his thoughts. It really was as good as she said. He’d never be able to stomach the cheap stuff again.
The reality was, he’d never have to, unless the band really, truly fucked up. Which wouldn’t happen. They all wanted this too badly. All of them. That’s part of what made them such solid partners.
He’d told Maria once that they could be partners. But he hadn’t held up his end of the bargain. He’d held back, not given her all the knowledge she needed to make an informed decision.
Well hell.
It probably wouldn’t matter—she’d already made up her mind about him—but he said, “Do you want me to explain?”
“I don’t need you to, but I think you need to say it.”
Well, if that wasn’t introspective as hell. He swallowed thickly and nodded at the patio doors. “Want to sit outside?”
Without a word, she turned. He followed her to two lounge chairs parked under the shade of the pergola, stopping to put the bottle of champagne in his hand into the mini fridge under the outdoor bar.
Someday, he might actually be able to afford a house like this. It was an odd sensation. He’d only ever wanted to be comfortable and make his family happy.
Resting his head against the cushioned chairback, he told her his sister’s story. How she’d gotten knocked up, how everything had seemed fine while she was pregnant with Elana. How the signs of an obsessive, controlling partner started after she had the baby.
But then she got pregnant with Daniel, and her boyfriend went back to being the sweet, loving guy she had fallen in love with.
Oz paused to take a drink and a breath. He hadn’t talked about this stuff in years. Telling this story was hard. It was easier not to. Plus, who would he tell? The family all knew, and none of them wanted to constantly dredge it up either.
“He proposed, and they got married at the justice of the peace. She insisted she was happy. But then she had Izzie, and everything got worse.
“He lost his job and he was pissed about it, because of course it wasn’t his fault it happened. I think that’s when he started hitting Raquel. I’m pretty sure it was all verbal and emotional abuse until that point. I just don’t think my sister would have put up with the violence for all those years. But by that point, she had three kids to worry about, and she’d quit working, at her husband’s insistence, so she could take care of them.
“One day, it got so bad that she finally left him. Took the kids and went to my mom’s house. Spent the night and drove the kids to school in the morning.
“Then, according to a text she sent to my mom, her husband called and apologized and swore he’d never do it again—all the same bullshit, but when you feel trapped, you don’t see the words for what they are. All he wanted was to lure her back under his control.
“She called the school and asked them to let the kids know to get on the bus and go home after school instead of to their grandmother’s. And then she went home…”
“You don’t have to finish,” Maria said gently. “I know the ending.”
He nodded, appreciating her consideration. “Once he went to prison, I decided the one thing I could do for those kids was to take him out of their lives as much as possible. So I hired a lawyer to get his parental rights taken away and to have their last name legally changed to Garcia.”
