Page 59 of Raging Fires

“Pops didn’t want to see me again. Because you dumped me. Because I made you unhappy.”

“That’s not true. Pops wanted to see you. He watched every one of your games, even when you were playing lousy. He loved you and missed you. You’re the one who never came home.”

“I did come home, and he told me I wasn’t his grandson anymore.”

“He did not.”

“I was there, Kelli. He said, and I quote, ‘You’re not my Jake anymore.’”

“That’s not the same as saying you weren’t his grandson, you idiot. He was disappointed, sure, but he wasn’t telling you he didn’t love you. He just meant that you weren’t acting like yourself anymore. And you weren’t. You were wild. Running around with phonies, drinking and clubbing. Arguing with your coaches and getting into fights. You hit a fan, Jake.”

“That was after you left me!” he shot back.

“You’re blaming me for you messing up your life?”

“That’s why I acted crazy. I was crazy. You broke my heart, Kelli.” Damn it. He’d never meant to let that out. Jake turned away, clenching his teeth tightly, as if he could push down all the emotions that were bubbling up in him. What was the matter with him? All that was over years ago. He was done with it. Past that.

“I’m sorry for that. Truly.” Kelli’s voice was gentle and sad. “But do you think my heart wasn’t broken too?”

“Not that I could tell. You bailed on me. I would never have bailed on you like that.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have left me physically, but inside you already had. I didn’t know you anymore. Still… I never wanted to hurt you.” Her voice was clogged with tears, and the sound made Jake’s heart twist.

“You’re right, Kelli.” He couldn’t turn to look at her. “You and I can’t be friends.”

He walked away.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kelli turned back to the stove, tears welling in her eyes. Her legs were trembling. Picking up the skillet of burned pancakes, she ditched it in the sink, then poured out the rest of the batter. Behind her in the apartment, she could hear Jake moving around, not storming and banging doors, but deadly quiet, which was more frightening. Every small sound seemed to have a finality to it.

A few moments later, she heard the front door close. Then his voice talking to the dog. Tears clogged her throat and threatened to run down her cheeks, but she kept on stubbornly cleaning the pan, washing the bowl and plate. She wasn’t going to cry. She refused.

There was the sound of the car door, then the engine, and he was gone. Kelli began to cry. Jerking, choking little bursts of sobs as she fought it. And then she surrendered. Sinking slowly to the floor, she leaned back against the cabinet, her knees drawn to her chest, and she sobbed.

She cried for Jake and the pain in his voice. For herself. For the past and the love they’d had, the love she’d thought would never die. How had everything gone so horribly wrong? How had that boy with the killer grin who’d walked into the Blue become the angry, bitter man who’d just walked away?

Was it her fault? Clearly Jake blamed her. But how could she have stayed in that empty existence made all the worse by the fact that Jake was physically there? She wasn’t responsible because he’d reacted like a head case when she left. He was already headed in that direction; probably all she did was make it happen faster.

If she’d stayed, she could have continued to cover for him with the coaches or his agent and publicist, to push him out of bed in the mornings so he’d get to practice on time, to bug him until he did the various things he was supposed to.

But it would only have slowed his slide. The rift between them would have grown worse. Maybe he would have grown so far away from her or gotten so angry at her nagging that he would have been the one to file for divorce. She could have stayed there for another year or more, being miserable, trying to save Jake from himself. In the end she wouldn’t have accomplished anything except watching him crash and burn from close up.

Eventually Kelli stopped crying. She sighed and stood up, wiping the tears from her cheeks and going to blow her nose. She went into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like hell: her eyes puffy and red, her face mottled. It was clear she’d been crying.

It didn’t matter. Even if she felt like going to bed and pulling the covers over her head, she couldn’t. It was Saturday, and she had to get over to the Blue and help set up the bar for tonight’s show. It was always a packed house on a night they had a popular band.

Thirty minutes later, showered and dressed, her wet hair tied back in a braid, she left the house. Toby wasn’t on the porch waiting for her as he usually was, and she felt a clutch of fear at her heart. Had he wandered off? Could Jake have taken the dog with him? It seemed strange, but the thought made her feel a little better. He’d likely return if he had Toby along. Or maybe he planned to hit the road, just a man and his dog.

Whatever had happened, she couldn’t worry about it now. She wasn’t about to call Jake and ask him if he had the dog, and if Toby had wandered off, well, he was a stray, used to being on his own, not a delicate house dog. He’d find his way back, and he must have learned by now to avoid cars.

She took last night’s receipts to the bank, and by the time she returned, Naomi was there, as well as Tiny and a couple of extra workers she usually hired for the night of a big show.

Naomi came up to her, frowning. “The groceries came, and there are no limes.”

“No limes? Are you serious?”

Naomi nodded. “Apparently there’s a shortage or something. I don’t know. Anyway, he didn’t bring them.”