The Newcomer (Thunder Point #2)(77)

When he walked into the hotel, people reacted. They stiffened, stared, watched. Dare he even hope Cee Jay would be intimidated by the uniform? She hadn’t been the last time, when they met at Denny’s. He went to the restaurant and spoke to the hostess. “I’m meeting a woman here, early thirties, dark hair, very blue eyes....”

The hostess smiled and sent a graceful arm and questioning glance into the sparsely populated dining room.

“Yes, that’s her. Thank you.”

Cee Jay seemed to be studying the menu until he neared, then she looked up and dazzled him with a stunning smile. Oh, you think I don’t remember? he thought. It cut through him. That beautiful young girl who once loved him, there she was. She’d been new at school and it hadn’t taken her long to single him out and even though she was much younger, to him she was the epitome of beauty and innocence. He fell in love with her immediately. A year later she was pregnant and he was married. And everything about his life changed.

She stood and by the lift of her arms, she intended to embrace him. He quickly put out a hand, indicating she should take a seat. She did so with a laugh. “Well, that was awkward.”

The waitress was there instantly. Something about a police uniform usually produced service right away. He was very uncomfortable sitting with his back to the room but tried to tell himself he wouldn’t be here too long and the casino had security. Still, even though he had no reason to expect trouble of any kind, his hand rested on his thigh, near his gun.

“Just coffee for me,” he told the waitress.

“I’ll start with a coffee,” Cee Jay said.

When the waitress had gone, Mac said, “Nice hotel.”

“It’s the nicest one in the general area. How did you find me?” she asked.

He lifted a brow. “I looked.”

“That doesn’t quite answer the question.”

“I know. So, what’s your game?”

“I beg your pardon.” She was indignant. She stiffened.

“What do you play?” he asked.

She seemed to be undecided whether to answer. “I just dabble,” she said, visibly tense.

“Cee Jay, I know everything. So, what do you dabble in?”

“Penny ante,” she said with a shrug, meeting his eyes dead on. She’d been through this before. She could pass a lie detector and he knew it. It scared him, as a matter of fact.

“I don’t think so,” he replied, shaking his head. “It appears you’re having some bad luck.”

“Not much.” She shrugged. “Just lately. It’s just for fun, anyway. I’m actually ahead.”

He might not know anything about gambling per se but one thing he knew, gamblers always claimed to win. Always. And they rarely did. Big fancy casinos and casino resorts were not built on charity. “Is that right? Good for you. So, what does this have to do with us? Me and the kids?”

“I thought...” Her voice trailed off. “I told you. I thought maybe we could reconnect.”

“There’s more to it than that,” he said.

She just shook her head. “Those years we were together—they were very hard, Mac. Very hard. And I didn’t really have the tools to deal with what I’d taken on—I was a young fool. So I ran. But I kept looking back to those years, difficult though they were, and realized that was one of the few times in my life I felt safe and loved. I started to regret leaving almost immediately.”

“Yet you didn’t even call to ask how the kids were?”

She lifted her chin. “I was determined to improve myself in some way before getting in touch. I never brought anything to the table. I wanted to bring something. I thought I could contribute in some way, be valuable. Valuable enough to be welcomed back.”

He frowned slightly and leaned toward her slightly. “What the hell happened to you, Cee Jay? What happened that made you feel being the mother of our children wasn’t enough?”

“It was just more work and greater deprivation than I could—”

But he was shaking his head. “What happened in your childhood to make you think you had to have more? Be more? I want to understand, but I just don’t get it. You said you felt safe and loved. Did the fancy car and jewelry make you feel safer? More loved?”

She let a huff of laughter escape just as two cups of coffee and cream were delivered to the table. Mac noticed her eyes had welled with tears but he couldn’t trust that they were real.

“Growing up wasn’t pretty,” she finally said. “I was raised by a single mother who had four kids by four men. She moved us every time the rent was overdue, virtually ignored us and left us on our own to raise ourselves. I lived in dingy little apartments and motel rooms—there wasn’t always food and we picked through scrap piles for clothes. I was molested when I was small, abandoned all the time, hungry most of the time, missed whole months of school and was always terrified. When I was eleven the four of us were split up into four different foster homes and I was moved every year. When I met you all I wanted was a family and a home.”

He was silent. Was this some story concocted to get his sympathy? How could he spend seven years with a woman and never know any of these details? It could be as simple as young men don’t ask, or a young man working day and night never thought about the details, or as complicated as Cee Jay making up a story that would get her a second chance.