Rachel Dyken - The Dare

What? Here?

Jace released me and turned. "You rotting bastard. I should kill you."

And then I heard a yelp.

Jace released me just as Jake landed a blow to Brett's face, sending him sailing to the floor.

"Thanks." Jace held out his hand to Jake. "Nice hit."

"Yeah, well," Jake shrugged, "not the first airport fight I've gotten into."

"Titus men." Another voice chimed in.

"Char?"

My sister waved and gave me a sad smile that just screamed guilt.

"Where are you going?" Jace asked calmly. "I want to give you a reason to stay. I need you to stay." He cupped my face in his hands. "Stay for me."

"That's a good reason." I nodded, tears pooling in my eyes.

"Listen," he licked his lips, "I have something to tell you, something to explain. I'm not really sure I understand it myself, but I think it will help. Full honesty, full disclosure on my part. Don't leave."

"Jace, I can't—"

"Who's not worth the risk now?"

Maybe he was right. Maybe in the end I was running because I was scared.

It happened too fast. The photographers, the lights, the cameras going off. I blinked, and then we were surrounded. I looked like hell, and Jace looked so stunned his mouth opened and closed three times before he could form words.

"Mr. Senator? Is this the woman you've been hiding from us?"

"Mr. Senator, is she a prostitute? Or truly a family friend?

"Mr. Senator, was this a planned destination wedding, or are you just joining in a publicity stunt to help with your approval ratings?"

Question after question was fired at him.

I waited for him to defend me, for him to explain to them exactly what had happened with Grandma, not that they'd believe it.

Instead he looked directly at me and said in a sad voice, "She's an old family friend. No wedding, no prostitutes, just the happy coincidence of being on the same vacation. Isn't that right, Beth?"

His eyes pleaded with mine, while tears clouded my vision so much that I couldn't see straight. I gave a pathetic nod and turned away, knowing this time he wouldn't come after me, and I wouldn't turn back.

He'd been given a third opportunity in a day to make his choice.

And for the third time, he'd failed to choose me.

"Did you send the reporters?" The agent rubbed his face and sighed.

"It's possible."

"So that's a yes."

Grandma picked at her sweater. "I'm elderly, memory's not what it used to be."

"And just how was ratting out the senator supposed to help the relationship? If anything, it made it worse."

"It didn't." Grandma smirked. "Because clearly the senator is still missing, and so is she."

Jace

The look on Beth's face devastated me, like a punch to the gut. I tried to catch my breath, but every inhale was filled with utter disgust and panic. I'd just told her to her face, for the third time that day, that she wasn't enough. But I'd done it to protect her — to give her time to decide what she felt about me. Instead, she'd walked away. Not me. Her.

Every insecurity she must have felt about herself was probably scratching to the surface, and it was all my fault. All because I was selfish careless bastard. Every instinct told me to run after her, but what would that do? She'd probably slap me and end up on the six o'clock news. So I stayed rooted to the ground and did my damn job — I smiled pretty for the cameras, and I smoothed things over. Never in my life had I had to work so hard to pretend like my world wasn't crashing down around me.

"Senator," another reporter shoved a microphone in my face, "Channel Five, can you tell us why you're visiting the islands?"

A flash went right off in my line of vision…

I heard screeching tires all over again, and then glass went everywhere. A flashlight was shined in my eyes. "Son, are you alright?"

I forced a tight smile. "Much needed vacation."

"But our sources say that—"

"Excuse me." I pushed away from the crowd to Jake and Char. They'd come as reinforcements to help convince Beth to stay.

The reporters followed me.

Char opened her mouth, but Jake covered it with his hand. "Not here."

We walked outside and got into a cab.

I was tense as hell.

"Why?" Char whispered.

"What did you want him to do, Char?" Jake jumped to my defense. "Call her out on national television? Say that they were together? Steal the last shred of privacy she may have had? The way I see it is he made it easier for her to run."

"She's not running!" Char fired back. "She's hurt!"

"So am I!" I yelled, realizing too late that I had given myself away.

Char grabbed my hand, but I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel anything.

I'd told myself I wouldn't get attached, and look where that had gotten me. In the exact predicament I hadn't wanted to be in. I wasn't heartbroken. I was too angry with myself and angry with the situation to feel anything worthwhile.

The anger didn't dissipate. If anything, it intensified when we pulled up to the resort, and my parents were waiting in the lobby with Grandma in tow.

I expected lots of yelling and confusion. What I didn't expect was for my father to pull me in to a giant hug and pat my back, like he was still somehow proud of the ass his son had become.

My mom smiled sadly and squeezed my hand.

"Let's go have a nice morning chat." Dad led me toward one of the restaurants.

I ordered black coffee and stared mindlessly into it while he ordered breakfast for both of us.

"A month ago," Dad stirred some milk into his coffee, "I had a nice chat with Travis."

Not what I expected. Warning bells went off in my head.

"He was worried about you, said you'd been drinking more and acting careless. I immediately assumed it was all that Kerri-business coming back to haunt you. Then Travis said something interesting."

"I'm sure he did." Numb. I was so damn numb.

"He said, you'd drunkenly told him about the best night of your life."

Well, hell.

"And imagine my surprise when it wasn't the night of your election, but the night you took your cousin to prom."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

"A girl with green eyes and dark hair had captured your attention, and for some reason, maybe it was the kiss, or maybe it was the way she fit perfectly into your arms, you fell."

I rose to get up.

"Sit down."

I sat.

"Funny," my father nodded, "because I remember the story a little differently."

I looked out at the crashing waves and waited.

"Your mother and I forced you to take your cousin to her senior prom. You fought us on it until I finally put my foot down. She didn't have a date, after all. A few hours later, you came back to the house in such a frenzy I thought something had happened."

Squinting, I looked up into his eyes. "I never came back to the house, Dad."

He sighed. "You did. The therapists said that telling you about what you didn't remember could cause emotional damage, so we kept it quiet. Never in my life did I think it would be so important."

"I don't understand." I scratched the back of my head, feeling the scar from the surgery.

"Of all the things to forget, you forgot the accident and things leading up to it, but you remembered that damn kiss you shared with that girl, and it wrecked you."

"You're telling me this now because?"

"Because it will help. I hope to God it helps, because I'm about at my wit's end with you." He smirked lovingly. "You ran into the house and said, 'Dad, I've met the girl I'm going to marry.'"

Suddenly, I was in my parents' living room again.

The memory hit me full force. I tried to stuff it back into my mind. I tried to ignore the pain in my chest as it sliced me completely in half.