Page 40 of One Bet

And while I liked those words and loved the sentiment behind them, we hadn’t been strong enough ten years ago to survive Ryder Kennedy. And we had less of a foundation to build on now.

One Decade Ago

Flames licked the side of the boat and smoke billowed up into the night sky as the Coast Guard sprayed the fire from the oceanside and Department Three of the Glouster Maine volunteer fire services unit hosed it from the landside.

I was on the beach, they would come for me soon enough, know what I’d done, arrest me, and never believe it was an accident. The timing was too coincidental and maybe subconsciously, I’d done it on purpose. After all, if the boat was gone, the memory of my time with Keaton would be gone along with it. That was what I told myself as I sat crying as the ocean lapped at the beach.

“Hey. You okay?” Susie Chastain sat beside me on the beach and we watched Keaton’s beautiful yacht sinking.

To be honest, I was numb, as if I’d watched the entire night happen to someone else. I nodded, but there was something I had to know, something I’d never wanted to ask that was as important to me now as it was to breathe. “Was it Keaton? Is he the one who hurt you?”

She inhaled slowly and exhaled loudly through her nose. “Not directly. But they’re all alike, aren’t they? Ryder, Keaton, Finn, and all the rest. They all think they can do whatever they want. Hurt whoever they want. Like we don’t matter. Ryder did it to me, Keaton did it to you.” She tossed a handful of sand in front of her then picked up another and threw it toward the waves. “We should expose them for the bastards they are.”

“Yeah.” But my heart wasn’t in it. I’d lost everything from my place to stay to every stitch of clothing I owned, my books, my homework…to my boyfriend.

She tilted her head.

“I’m serious. We should…” She grabbed my hand. “Come on. I know what to do.”

I went with her because I didn’t have anywhere else to go, but I sat in her mom’s living room and told our story, just the way it happened. Then I went to Alex’s house. Alex, the editor of the school blog and newspaper, and I begged him to post it. Then, when he said yes, I kissed him, pretended he was the one I loved, pretended my heart wasn’t broken and I could be happy knowing I’d gotten my revenge and revenge for all the girls whose names Susie supplied, and there’d been a lot of them.

24

Keaton

I’d been to a hundred and one awkward dinners. Sit-downs where no one spoke or if they did the conversation remained stilted and choppy. I’d expected nothing more tonight, but so far, through appetizers and drinks, a relaxed atmosphere had settled over the room. Unless I counted Avery’s fingernails digging into my hand every time Susie touched Jameson or kissed him or laughed at something he said.

The house was nicer than I expected for a guy who worked as a freelance driver. The front was all brick with a wrap-around porch, but the inside was a testament to family and children. A bucket of toys sat in the corner next to a big screen with two different game systems underneath. Family pictures hung on every available wall space and sat on the tables. The walls were a brownish-gray trimmed in white and the staircase between the living room and dining room had even more photos of Jameson and Susie and their kids hanging in an angular formation leading up to the second floor.

Avery picked up one of the pictures from the side table, Susie in a long white dress and Jameson wrapped around her as she looked at the camera and he gazed so lovingly at her. The traditional tuxedo-veil-sunny day combo made them look even happier than their smiles would have shown. “So, you guys have been married a long time.”

Susie narrowed her eyes. “Nine years last month.”

She stood and went to the fireplace mantle to run her finger along the framed picture of a little boy in a soccer uniform. “This is our son Gabriel. He’s eight.”

She pointed to two little girls. “That’s Amy and Jessica.”

She replaced the picture Avery handed back then smiled at Jameson who handed me another beer. “We have so much to be thankful for.”

Avery nodded.

“I see that.” She smiled. “You’ve come a long way from painting graffiti, Susie.”

Jameson nudged my shoulder. “I gotta start the grill. You want to see the backyard?” He’d never been subtle, but I appreciated the easy out. The appeal of watching Avery play tit for tat with Susie dimmed. Maybe I was jealous because she was defending a man who’d just told her he loved her. Or maybe I was just tired. Either way, a bit of fresh air sounded divine.

“Yeah.” I followed him out a set of French doors. “You have a great house, Jameson.”

He opened the lid to the grill then turned to look up at the second floor. “Yeah. Susie’s making big money, she travels a lot and spends more time away than she spends here.”

He turned back to the grill and sighed. “And you and Avery are here about Alex, right?” He looked down at his hands. “Not everything is what it seems.”

He turned back to the grill and twisted a knob. “Avery’s probably jumping up and down for joy thinking my wife is screwing around right under my nose, but I love my wife.”

My heart ached for him, but it ached for me, too. In college, we’d been on top of the world, then, it all went to shit. Not that he hadn’t played his part and me mine, but we’d fallen, crashed from our pedestals, and still had the scars to prove it.

He turned. “I’m a washed-up college football star who has a bum knee, got kicked out of college, and drives drunk people around in my car for a living. Where am I going to go?”

And I was a washed-up pro football player who had somehow managed to fall in love with a woman who’d tried to destroy me and I couldn’t face the reality of it, so I changed the subject, quickly. “The university offered me a job as QB coach for the team.”