Page 10 of Hearts Don't Lie
They held each other until the cold began to seep in through their outerwear and boots, then made their way back to the lodge to say good night. Hardin’s club was leaving Stowe early in the morning. Hers was leaving after lunch.
Unfortunately, by the time Hardin arrived home, the parental grapevine had informed his parents about his time with Mac. His parents met him at the front door, their anger buffeting off him.
“We know everything that goes on. We told you before to quit seeing her.” His father’s tone conveyed he expected Hardin to acquiesce. “You deliberately disobeyed us. You will not see that girl again. You’re to focus on academics and your soccer career. Am I clear, Hardin? It’s done. Do you hear me?”
Hardin schooled his features into appearing cowed. “Yes.”
“You will apologize.” His mother stared at him, her expression cool.
Robotically he said, “I’m sorry, Mother, Father.” Hardin’s eyes passed over each of them as he spoke their names. Internally, he was boiling. Internally, he redoubled his efforts. He and Mac would find a way.
Piñon Ridge…
Had he done the wrong thing by showing up as he had, without notice? No. It was the only way. Intuitively, he felt Mac had purposely made herself difficult to find. She had severed all ties with the past, including her mother and friends. Twelve years. It had taken him twelve years to find her, ten years of which consisted of Liberty searching intensively. Now, a dozen years later, they were finally in the same town. Hardin had paid for a three-day excursion, just the two of them, and he planned to make every minute count.
Liberty had tracked Alicia down almost immediately after he hired her. Alicia did not have any idea where her daughter was, nor had she seemed the least bit concerned about her welfare. Alicia was enjoying an easier life on the Florida coast, courtesy of her calculated strike at the heart of what mattered to Hardin’s parents—money and status. The Ambroses’ generosity was another revelation during his search for Mac.
His parents had played into Alicia’s plan perfectly and then followed it up by having a protection order filed against Alicia and Mac, effectively ending all contact between Mac and Hardin. Alicia and the Ambroses had shared the same end goal—keeping him and Mac apart. The whole thing made him sick.
She had a son. He was coming to terms with that. At first it stunned him because they had talked about their future plans, which included marriage and a passel of kids—their own soccer team, they had said and laughed.
Hardin wanted the answers to his growing list of questions. Mac’s change of surname indicated she had married. Whom had she married and when? When had she become single? Was she aware of her mother’s treachery and the payoff provided by his parents? Why else would she have disappeared without a trace? It just didn’t fit her.
He tried to withhold judgment. Mac had always been unfailingly open with him. It was the primary reason he had been able to be vulnerable with her and share every part of himself.Jesus.Lies upon lies, neglected, festering and haunting him for twelve years. He had to get to the truth, regardless of the outcome. He needed closure. He’d been in an emotional rut since the day he left for college. His mind replayed the scene before the car arrived at his parents’ home to take him to O’Hare.
Illinois, August, Twelve Years Earlier…
He stepped out of the shower of his en suite bathroom the following morning, still groggy from a lack of sleep and feeling deflated and frustrated by how the night abruptly ended with Mac. The policemen’s appearance had ruined his romantic evening with her. A car was picking him up for the airport in thirty minutes.
Shouting from the foyer carried up the wide, double staircase and through the massive paneled bedroom door—his parents and a woman. He strained to listen, but after the distinct sound of the pocket doors to his father’s office closing, the conversation was muffled. Although he wanted to go downstairs, he didn’t. Hardin had been admonished time and again as a young boy to stay out of adult conversations and negotiations.
A nagging sense of worry grew as he checked his cell again and again while he dressed. He’d been trying to reach Mac since he got home from their date. Repeated efforts to reach her went unanswered, the first to text and voice mail, and later to an automated message from the carrier stating the phone number was out of service. There were no calls, voice mails or texts from her. What the hell was going on?
Raised voices drew his attention again, and then it was just as quiet. The pocket doors slid open and light steps clacked over the black-and-white tiles of the grand hall. The heavy front door opened and shut.
Hardin rushed to his parents’ bedroom and stepped onto the balcony over the front veranda, seeking to catch a glimpse of the visitor. The rusted driver’s door of the dented, familiar clunker complained loudly as it opened. He swallowed convulsively, and sweat dampened his clean, dry polo shirt and pants despite the air-conditioning as he observed Alicia Vesley with a smug expression glance back at their house before seating herself daintily behind the wheel.
