Read Online Just Evil by Vickie McKeehan - Free Book Online Page A

sit down in his good clothes.
“It’s not that damp.”
    He sensed she somehow thought he was hesitant to sit down
and muss up his clothes, so he followed her lead.
    But he couldn’t believe she’d just plop down on beach sand
in that sexy black dress. Claire would have been downright offended if he’d
suggested such a thing. But then he smiled, propped his hands on his knees.
    Kit was nothing like Claire.
    She took in several deep breaths of ocean air, dug her bare
feet into the cold, damp sand and gazed out into the water, listening to the
sound of the waves. 
    Jake sensed the break was significant, that she’d stopped
talking for some reason other than to watch the surf, avoiding the fact that
her father hadn’t fought harder for custody. That much he got from her demeanor
now. But he kept quiet and said nothing, waiting for her to regain some
composure.
    When she began talking her voice was so hushed he had
trouble hearing her over the sound of the surf.
    “I remember almost every one of his visits. There weren’t
that many really when you add them up over fourteen years.”
    The fact that she’d gone in a completely different direction
wasn’t lost on Jake. He wasn’t going to find out tonight why her father hadn’t
fought harder for custody. Hell, maybe she didn’t even know why.
    “He’d often drop by unannounced to take me to the Santa
Monica Pier for a ride on the carousel or the Ferris wheel, or for long walks
on the beach. Alana would be furious that he hadn’t called first. I think he
did it to piss her off. And of course it did. But he always had a good excuse
or story at the ready. The man excelled at telling a story. He always made
whatever story he came up with sound so real, so believable. But I was a child
and kids tend to believe every word their parents tell them; that is, until
they don’t. I know I fell for his stories and his excuses on more than one
occasion.”
    She thought back to the father-daughter Valentine’s Day banquet
at school when she’d been eight. She’d dressed up in her red dress and waited
for him in the foyer for two hours to show up before realizing he wasn’t
coming. She’d cried her heart out for two days. The memory had her remembering
his telephone call several days later and the excuse he’d used. Some work thing
had come up, some movie thing or television thing that always seemed to come
before his daughter.
    But in spite of that, she needed to make Jake understand.
“But dad would spend time with me doing the things I’d never get from Alana.
Stuff like teaching me how to ride a horse. He’d take me hiking at Malibu
Lagoon, or camping at Lake Arrowhead, or skiing up at Big Bear. When I turned
eight, he bought me a surfboard and taught me how to ride a wave. And when I
wanted to play volleyball and softball, he supported my efforts. While Alana
grumbled and refused to sign the permission slip, he’d do it behind her back,
which would, of course, piss her off to no end.” 
    “Lots of girls play sports. My sisters played tennis, ran
track.”
    She laughed. “Alana thought sports were for boys. When I
made the varsity volleyball team in high school, it embarrassed her so much she
bitched about it the entire time.” Even now she remembered the argument, the
accusations.
    “Once I got to college she had no say in the matter. I made
the varsity volleyball team as a freshman, got to play all four years. For once
I could play without the thought that she might show up during the game and
embarrass me. Dad never got to see me play though.” Even in the growing
twilight, Jake could see the pitiful look on her face, the sad eyes. He’d
thought he had his feelings pegged, but his heart turned over. And she didn’t
have a clue.
    “Then there was my love of art. I’ve always loved to draw
and paint. As a child it was my only outlet…at times…when…” She caught herself.
“Dad encouraged me. You see, I didn’t do very well in school. It seems I