try.”
She didn’t bother to look back when Ransom, when Kona, called after her. She pulled Mark behind her, jogging out of the lobby and through the doors, outside, toward that beautiful red Mustang and freedom waiting for her in the circular resort drive. There were dark pink and white balloons taped to the side and back of the car and streamers dragging behind it.
Behind her she heard the cameras snapping madly, the photographers’ hurled questions, heard Kona yelling at them to move out of his way. She heard Ransom screaming at someone, Keira didn’t know who and she didn’t stop to find out.
Her heart, so battered and bruised, had been healing; Kona’s love, his affection and hope for the future had been like a warm salve fixing the damage, lifting so much of what had been laid on Keira’s shoulders, making a safe place for her to heal. And now, that salve was gone, the safe haven had been breached, and the battered, broken heart of hers shattered yet again, this time into way too many pieces. That damned shoe—that damned other god forsaken shoe—had finally dropped.
“Keys,” Keira said to the valet leaning against the car.
“Ma’am?”
“This is for me and I want the fucking keys!”
“I’ll take them,” Mark said, running to the driver’s side as Keira pulled her heavy skirt up to climb inside the car.
“Keira, please! Wait, baby. Don’t do this!”
But she did do what Kona begged her not to. She did what Keira always did when the worry, the pain, the betrayal became too much, when the ache held her lungs so tight that she couldn’t breathe.
She ran.
“Drive,” she told Mark, slamming the door as Kona and Ransom sprinted down the drive.
“Keira, are you sure…”
“Put the fucking car in gear and get me out of here.” She swallowed, breathing hard, sobbing as she tried to still the shaking of her hands. “Please,” she said, looking at her best friend. “Get me out of here now.”
And like the good friend Mark Burke had always been, he punched the gear into drive and tore away from the resort with a screech of burning tires. Keira refused to turn around, but watched Kona in the rearview mirror running desperately after them, calling her name in a hoarse voice that grew fainter and fainter the further they drove. Finally she closed her eyes, unable to lose the image of the hurt and fear transforming his beautiful face.
Kona had wanted Keira to see Paris with him. It was a beautiful city, all starlight and romance, history brimming from every broken stone in the buildings, every cracked paver layering sidewalks and pathways.
But Keira had already been to Paris. She’d been twice, in fact and though he was disappointed, Kona agreed that a private cottage on a private beach in Oahu would be the perfect spot to honeymoon. “You’ve spent a small fortune on the wedding, Kona. Why not leave the honeymoon simple.”
He’d suspected she wanted to stay close to Ransom. Paris, well, that’d be a long boat ride. So, wanting to make her happy, Kona had reserved the entire strip of five cottages, just to ensure privacy, to keep the photographers and excited family at bay. He never thought he’d be pulling up to that cottage unmarried and very much without Keira.
He parked the car and looked up the hill at the front of the cottage when he saw the Mustang they’d rented parked in the drive.
“You think she’s still awake?” Kona asked Ransom, hoping the boy would finally speak to him. Ransom hadn’t wanted Kona to go after Keira. He’d wanted to do it on his own, but Kona wouldn’t have it. “If there will be groveling, son, we’ll both do it,” he’d told Ransom, knowing that he’d have to spend some time groveling to his son as well. The boy was pissed that Kona had even considered the job with Sports Center.
“There’s no way she’s asleep.” Ransom leaned forward, watching the porch light flicker on and off against the turquoise siding. “When
She didn’t bother to look back when Ransom, when Kona, called after her. She pulled Mark behind her, jogging out of the lobby and through the doors, outside, toward that beautiful red Mustang and freedom waiting for her in the circular resort drive. There were dark pink and white balloons taped to the side and back of the car and streamers dragging behind it.
Behind her she heard the cameras snapping madly, the photographers’ hurled questions, heard Kona yelling at them to move out of his way. She heard Ransom screaming at someone, Keira didn’t know who and she didn’t stop to find out.
Her heart, so battered and bruised, had been healing; Kona’s love, his affection and hope for the future had been like a warm salve fixing the damage, lifting so much of what had been laid on Keira’s shoulders, making a safe place for her to heal. And now, that salve was gone, the safe haven had been breached, and the battered, broken heart of hers shattered yet again, this time into way too many pieces. That damned shoe—that damned other god forsaken shoe—had finally dropped.
“Keys,” Keira said to the valet leaning against the car.
“Ma’am?”
“This is for me and I want the fucking keys!”
“I’ll take them,” Mark said, running to the driver’s side as Keira pulled her heavy skirt up to climb inside the car.
“Keira, please! Wait, baby. Don’t do this!”
But she did do what Kona begged her not to. She did what Keira always did when the worry, the pain, the betrayal became too much, when the ache held her lungs so tight that she couldn’t breathe.
She ran.
“Drive,” she told Mark, slamming the door as Kona and Ransom sprinted down the drive.
“Keira, are you sure…”
“Put the fucking car in gear and get me out of here.” She swallowed, breathing hard, sobbing as she tried to still the shaking of her hands. “Please,” she said, looking at her best friend. “Get me out of here now.”
And like the good friend Mark Burke had always been, he punched the gear into drive and tore away from the resort with a screech of burning tires. Keira refused to turn around, but watched Kona in the rearview mirror running desperately after them, calling her name in a hoarse voice that grew fainter and fainter the further they drove. Finally she closed her eyes, unable to lose the image of the hurt and fear transforming his beautiful face.
Kona had wanted Keira to see Paris with him. It was a beautiful city, all starlight and romance, history brimming from every broken stone in the buildings, every cracked paver layering sidewalks and pathways.
But Keira had already been to Paris. She’d been twice, in fact and though he was disappointed, Kona agreed that a private cottage on a private beach in Oahu would be the perfect spot to honeymoon. “You’ve spent a small fortune on the wedding, Kona. Why not leave the honeymoon simple.”
He’d suspected she wanted to stay close to Ransom. Paris, well, that’d be a long boat ride. So, wanting to make her happy, Kona had reserved the entire strip of five cottages, just to ensure privacy, to keep the photographers and excited family at bay. He never thought he’d be pulling up to that cottage unmarried and very much without Keira.
He parked the car and looked up the hill at the front of the cottage when he saw the Mustang they’d rented parked in the drive.
“You think she’s still awake?” Kona asked Ransom, hoping the boy would finally speak to him. Ransom hadn’t wanted Kona to go after Keira. He’d wanted to do it on his own, but Kona wouldn’t have it. “If there will be groveling, son, we’ll both do it,” he’d told Ransom, knowing that he’d have to spend some time groveling to his son as well. The boy was pissed that Kona had even considered the job with Sports Center.
“There’s no way she’s asleep.” Ransom leaned forward, watching the porch light flicker on and off against the turquoise siding. “When
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