At that point, it was time to merge onto the highway - which was fine, because this was the hard part of her story.
Little break, little breath, as she found a space for them in the traffic.
"Boy, the rain's really starting to come down," she said, speeding up the wipers.
"You don't have to finish."
"No, it's okay. The real nightmare is what would have happened if my parents hadn't taken an interest in me. That's what still scares me to this day." She checked in the rearview mirror, changed into the fast lane, and hit the gas. "My parents happened to be working that day - and I just stuck to them like glue. I'd loved my father from when I'd met him before, because he's just so big and strong, with that deep voice - I knew he'd protect me. And my mother always gave me cookies and milk - and played with me. Almost immediately, I was determined to go home with them, but they were trying to conceive at that point and, gee whiz, weren't necessarily all about some drug addict's baby.
"That night, and for a week afterward, they tried to find the woman and talk sense into her, because they knew that once a kid gets into the system, it can be hard to break out ">Little . When they finally found her, she didn't want me - and she said she'd sign her rights away. They came back later that evening and sat with me. I wasn't supposed to be staying at the shelter, because you needed your guardian there, but my mom had been camping out with me so I could have a bunk. I remember knowing they were going to tell me I had to go, but one more day turned into two ... which turned into another week. I was really well behaved, and I had the sense my dad was working on something. Finally, they came back and asked me if I wanted to stay with them for a little bit. He'd gotten them cleared as foster parents by pulling strings like only he could." She glanced over and smiled. "Little bit turned into twenty-five-plus years. They officially adopted me, like, a year after I moved in."
"That's awesome." Veck returned her smile, and then got serious again. "What about your biological father?"
"No one knows who he was - including the woman who birthed me, according to my parents. They told me much later, when I was grown up, that she'd maintained it was one of two exes of hers - both of whom were in jail for dealing drugs." She sped up her wipers. "And listen, I know I sound ... angry in places. I guess I just struggle with the whole addiction-is-a-disease theory. With a pair of addicts as my biological basis, there's a statistical probability that I'd end up like them, but I didn't go that route - I knew it was a door I shouldn't open, and I never have. And yeah, you could argue that my parents provided me with opportunities my biological mother never had, and that's true. But you make your own destiny. You choose your way."
For a while there was just the beat of the wipers and the subtle rush of water whipping down the underside of the car.
"I'm sorry, I probably said too much."
"No, not at all."
Reilly glanced over and had the sense Veck was back in his own past. Staying quiet, she hoped he'd open up, but he kept silent, elbow propped on the door, hand massaging his jaw.
From out of nowhere, a massive black SUV roared by in the middle lane, the Escalade splashing up gallons of water over Reilly's hood and obscuring the view.
"Jesus," she said, easing off on the gas. "They must be going a hundred."
"Nothing like a death wish to cut your travel time." The vehicle dodged right, then left, then right again, jogging by other cars like a football receiver on the way to the goal line.
Reilly frowned as she imagined Veck on his bike in this downpour with that kind of maniac on the road. "Hey, are you going to be able to ride home in all the rain? This is getting dangerous."
"Nah, it's no problem."
Cursing to herself, she was not at all sure of his read on the situation. And the fact that he was stupid enough to get on that rocket of his in this sort of weather really didn't put her in her happy place.
As Veck sat next to Reilly, he found himself thinking about his father ... and his mother, too - although the latter was someone he couldn't dwell on. How ironic. DelVecchio Sr. was almost always on his mind, but his mother -
"I think I'd better take you home," Reilly said. "This is nothing you need to be going through on a bike."
"I had no idea about your St," he heard himself murmur. "And I wouldn't have ever guessed it. You're so totally put together."
There was a pause, as if she had to change conversational lanes in her head. "Well, a lot of it is my parents. By example and in actuality, they are who I wanted to be and who I became. It always wasn't easy though. For a long while, I was worried that if I wasn't perfect, they'd return me like a defective toaster. But then I wrecked my father's new car on my learner's permit - tested that theory pretty damn well, and guess what? They kept me anyway."
Staring at her profile, he said, "I don't think you give yourself enough credit."
"The only thing I did was take advantage of the good example that was in front of me."
"And that's tremendous."
When she turned into his neighborhood five minutes later, he realized she'd taken her own advice about him and his bike and the weather.
The brakes squeaked slightly as she stopped in his driveway, and abruptly, the rain hitting the roof of the car sounded like Ping-Pong balls.
"I think we're having some hail," he said.
"Yes." She stared through the front windshield. "Bad storm."
"No thunder."
"No."
The wipers flopped back and forth, clearing the view only momentarily.
Eventually, he looked over at her. "I want to kiss you again."
"I know."
He laughed a little. "Am I so obvious."
"No ... I want it, too."
Then turn your head, he thought. All you have to do is turn your head and I'll take it from there.
The rain fell. The wipers slapped around. The engine idled.
She turned her head. And focused on his mouth. "I really want it."
Veck leaned in toward her, and pulled her to his lips. The kiss was very slow and very deep. And as her tongue met his, he was well aware he wanted something more from her than just sex, but if he'd had to name what the hell it was, he'd have been out of words. Ultimately, however, the definition didn't matter. Not in the interior of this unmarked, parked in his driveway, with the storm on the outside of the car.
What they both needed had nothing to do with talking.
God, she was still so soft beneath him, soft skin, soft hair, soft scent, but it was the tough inner core of her, the resilience and the single-mindedness, that really turned him on. The idea that she was such a survivor, that she was so strong and clear with who she was and where she was from, made him respect the shit out of her.
And what do you know ... that was sexier than anything that came in a Victoria's Secret bag.
With a surge of his torso, he tried to get even closer, but the steering wheel bit into his side, and blocked him. The caveman in him actually growled as he gave it another shot, but he got nowhere near where he wanted to be.
Which was naked and on top of her.
On a curse, he eased back. In the reflected brightness of the headlights on the garage door, her beautiful face was minated clearly, the pattern of the rain on the windshield playing across her features, spotting them up before the wipers cleared away what looked like tears.
He thought of her with her family, so happy and at peace.
He thought of her, period.
"I'm going to go in alone," he said abruptly.
Veck didn't wait for a response. He was out of that car a split second later, and he hotfooted it over to the front door of his house, not because of the storm, but because he could see too clearly into himself.
"Wait!" she called out as he palmed up his keys.
"Go back to your car," he muttered in a rough, hungry voice.
Rushing over to him, she shook her head. "I don't want to."
With that, she lifted up her hand and pointed it in the direction of her unmarked. As she hit her remote, the locks punched down and the blinkers flared.
Veck closed his eyes and let his head flop back on his spine, the rain hitting his forehead and cheeks. "You come in here, I'm not going to be able to stop."
Reilly's reply was to take the keys out of his hand, unlock the dead bolt, and subtly, inexorably push him back into his house.