Page 11 of Reckless Abandon
It made me seethe with hatred and anger that Sage had had London all these years and yet he was so careless with her love to throw her away like that. Hypocritical, I know, considering I did the exact same thing when I left for boot camp. Leaving her to think she wasn’t enough for me when really it was my feelings of inadequacy. Knowing I wasn’t good enough for her and didn’t want her holding on to something I couldn’t give to her in the long run.
London nods her head as if convincing herself she is ready for this reunion to happen.
“Yes,” she confirms emphatically. “I just want you to be prepared for what you might find. Sage’s different now, Cam. He’s changed. A lot. That delicate softness that existed in the past is long gone. He’s been hardened by his experiences that we can’t even begin to comprehend.”
She shifts in her seat, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap.
“He’ll never be the same boy you once knew.”
My gut clenches in guilt. The way we left things between us. The things I said to him when he was at his most vulnerable. I knew he was hurting and scared and so angry with the circumstances back then, and yet, I crushed him with what I did to him.
Running away, even though I concealed it through boot camp and later my tour overseas and time in Italy, was just a coward move. I left him when he needed me the most. I could’ve been there through letters and visits when I came home during my leaves. I could’ve answered his calls.
I could’ve apologized for my reckless abandonment of him.
But I didn’t.
If Sage even lets me into his home, it’ll be a miracle. I don’t deserve it.
Running a hand through my short-cropped hair, I exhale a breath.
“Sage is not going to be happy to see me.”
London laughs, a sound I love to hear. Sweet and naughty in equal measure.
“Probably not. It’s a wonder he’s even agreed to see me. The last time he left…we had a big fight. He was so angry at me.”
I enfold her hand in my palm, closing it in my fist.
“Sage is angry at life. At himself. At the universe. Not you, London. Never you.”
The corners of her mouth upturn into a small smile, full of grief and appreciation, as the gleam of the gates as they open in front of us catches my eye.
I take the truck out of Neutral and slowly drive down the long, curved driveway toward the gigantic house. A far cry from the trailer he grew up in.
Parking behind several cars – all expensive, high-end luxury models – I’m greeted with the first glimpse of a life that in a million years I never would have expected Sage Hendricks to be part of. Rich. Famous. Opulent.
It just didn’t fit with his childhood. Most days when we were kids, he wore tattered, dirty clothing and his hair and face were rarely washed.
Rounding the front of the truck, I open the door to assist London out of the passenger’s side. We step up the gray-stone steps to the front door and ring the bell.
From inside we can hear loud music pumping through speakers and the sound of laughter, singing, and people. Lots of people.
I bend my head so my lips are at London’s ear, squeezing her hand in mine as I say, “It’s showtime.”
The door opens and a half-naked girl, maybe nineteen or twenty at most, opens the door. She has a beer cup in one hand and she leans against the door with her hip jutted to the side, her midriff exposed between a bikini top and short cut-offs with the pockets visible from underneath the jeans material. She stumbles a little to the side, catching herself on the door before she falls over.
“Hey, you guys. Are you the ones with the coke?”
London gasps as I cough a chuff of surprise. London composes herself quickly, responding to the young girl’s question.
“Um no. We don’t have any coke with us, sorry. We’re here to see Sage.”
The girl gives a disinterested shrug of her bony shoulders and turns to walk away, leaving us standing in the doorway slightly amused. And a little worried.
“Okay then. Lead the way.” I extend my hand to allow London to head in first. Since she’s been here before, I assume she knows her way around the house.
A brief glance down the long, marbled corridor shows the back exit to the patio area and the area I assume is the pool. A few people meander around out there, drinks and cigarettes in hand. London grasps my hand and pulls me to the left and then to a large room with a couple of white and black couches and chairs, a big stone fireplace along the back wall, and the other walls decorated with gold and silver records.
