Salvage 2

  ****

  R.J. shoved May away from him. She stumbled back on her high heels.

  “What the hell?” He wiped his mouth as if he could get rid of the fact that she kissed him.

  She licked her lips, looking not the least bit perturbed. “What’s the problem?”

  “I’m engaged,” he shouted, not caring who was listening. “That’s the problem. I have a fiancée.”

  “You love her?”

  “Yes. Why would you ask that?”

  “If you truly love her then why did you choose to spend the evening with me rather than her?”

  “Because…” R.J. trailed off. He didn’t think of it that way. All this time, he was putting May before Denise without even realizing it.

  His love for Denise was never a question in his mind. As much history and love as he and May once shared, it paled in comparison to what he had with Denise. He couldn’t imagine life without her. He hadn’t thought of May in years until she showed up out of the blue last week.

  He took a step back. “I don’t think I’m the right attorney for you.”

  She blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I can’t do this, May. I’ll refer you to someone else.”

  “R.J., you can’t be serious.” She placed her hands on her hips.

  “I am. Good night, May. I hope you get your portion of your father’s estate.”

  He walked away. Denise needed to know about this. And he was going to have hell to pay because of it.

  When R.J. arrived home, all the lights in the house were off. That was strange. Usually Denise was home by now. It wasn’t that late, so he knew she wasn’t sleeping.

  “Barkley,” he called once he stepped inside and turned on the lights.

  His dear friend didn’t come bounding toward him nor did he bark. R.J. took out his phone and called Denise. It went directly to voicemail. Why would she turn her phone off?

  “Hey, honey. Where are you? I need to talk to you about something important when you get home. Call me back.”

  With nothing else to do, R.J. changed clothes and made himself comfortable on the couch to watch the last two innings of the baseball game. He must have nodded off. The next thing he knew, someone was ringing the doorbell like crazy.

  R.J. hopped up from the couch and jogged to answer the door. He swung the door open. Denise’s father stood at the threshold. He was a solid man with salt and pepper hair. He always resembled a lumberjack to R.J.

  “Hey, Freddie. Denise isn’t—”

  Freddie’s fist connected with the side of R.J.’s face, snapping his head to the side. He barely managed to stay on his feet. R.J. knew where Denise got her temper.

  “Why in the hell did you do that?” He put his hand on his aching cheek and moved his jaw around to ensure it wasn’t broken.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t do more.” Freddie’s chest heaved with his anger. His green eyes, so similar to Denise’s, glared with disgust.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know damn well what you did to my daughter. I’m here to pack a bag of clothes for her. She’ll get the rest when you’re not here.”

  “Wait. What?”

  Maybe it was the nap or the punch that caused his brain to lag behind in comprehension. All R.J. knew was that he was confused. What was going on?

  “Freddie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen Denise since this morning.”

  “Yeah, but she saw you. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “She saw me today?”

  “A few hours ago. I’m tired of explaining. Get out of my way so that I can get her belongings.”

  It seemed a fist had curled around R.J.’s heart, squeezing the life out of him. A few hours ago he was with May. And Denise knew. She might have even seen May kiss him. Oh, God. No.

  Freddie tried to push past him into the house. R.J. shoved him back. He wasn’t taking Denise’s things. They stayed in her home. Their home.

  “Leave, Freddie.” The pain and guilt he felt turned his voice to ice. “Tell Denise if she wants her stuff, she has to come get it.” He needed to see her face. R.J. needed to apologize.

  “She ain’t coming. I could barely get her to stop crying enough to tell me what you did.”

  R.J. slammed the door in Freddie’s face. He couldn’t look at the man a moment longer. Denise was hurting and he would never forgive himself for it.

  He repeatedly called her and left messages to express his sorrow and regret until the voicemail filled up. He stayed up all night hoping Denise would come home. She never did.

  A bottle of rum lay empty at his feet, evidence of how he numbed his pain. He barely managed to report his absence from work before passing out on the couch.

  When he woke up it was afternoon. He felt like garbage in every sense of the word. A clean pair of clothes and a couple aspirin to dull his headache didn’t make him feel any better.

  He looked like crap. His cheek was bruised, eyes felt like sandpaper. His hair couldn’t decide which way it wanted to flow.

  None of that mattered. R.J. couldn’t lose Denise. He wouldn’t lose Denise.

  He drove to Freddie’s house. Her car was still in the driveway. As much as she loved her job, he knew she wouldn’t have gone to work if she felt half as terrible as he did.

  Knocking on the door, he waited and hoped Denise would see him. He yearned to set his eyes upon her striking face. Denise had to forgive him.

  The door swung open. R.J. groaned as Freddie crossed his arms over his chest. A dog barked from somewhere inside.

  “You got some nerve showing up here after breaking my baby’s heart then slamming the door in my face. I ought to call the police to escort you off my property.”

  “You have every right to do that, Mr. Gasteaux. But before you do, please let me speak to Denise. I have to tell her that I’m sorry. It’s not what she thinks.”

  Freddie grunted. “That’s what all cheaters say. If Denise wants to see you, she will. Until then, you have five seconds to get off my porch before you’re escorted off.”

  R.J. hung his head. He knew it was a gamble to come here. If it took being arrested to get Denise’s attention, then he’d get taken away in handcuffs. He’d probably lose his job. His dream job. But what use was having his dream if he didn’t have the woman he loved to share it with?

  He stuck his foot in the doorway in case Freddie got ideas about repaying him for closing the door in his face last night.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I love your daughter. I didn’t cheat on her. That’s all I want to tell her.”

  “Five. Four. Three.”

  R.J. heard a sniffle. He looked over Freddie’s shoulder. Denise stood in the foyer in an oversized t-shirt, a tissue clutched in her trembling hands. Eyes that he genuinely adored were red and puffy.

  “Denise…”

  Freddie sighed. “Go back to your room, baby girl. I’ll bring you a cup of tea.”

  “You don’t have to, dad.” Her sorrowful gaze fixed on R.J. “Go away.”

  “I love you. I’m sorry. Just talk to me, honey.”

  She sniffed and shook her head. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

  “We’re getting married in a few weeks. We need to discuss things. Come home.”

  “There is nothing to discuss. The wedding is off. We’re done, Robert.”

  Robert. Not R.J. She used his government name. The name those that didn’t know him called him. If his spirit wasn’t already crushed, it was demolished then. Denise turned and walked down the hallway. Freddie held him back when he tried to follow.

  “Damn it, Denise. Come back here. We’re not done. At least give me back my dog. You stole my dog!”

  If he wasn’t already making a big enough fool of himself, Barkley began howling and barking from somewhere inside as if mocking him because those he cared most about in this world were out of his reach.