Beautifully Broken Control

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Beautifully Broken Control Page 4

by Catherine Cowles


  Acidic tears stung my eyes, but I forced myself to further commit the woman’s features to memory. The pain in that ravaged face. No amount of prison time or payment of restitution would ever be enough. There were now four people who were dead because of my father. Four human beings who had taken their lives out of desperation.

  The bell over the door rang, and I hurriedly wiped under my eyes. “Hey, Walker,” I greeted, forcing as much cheer into my voice as possible.

  “Hey, Kennedy. My sister around?”

  Jensen poked her head out of the kitchen. “I’m here. We’re just getting ready to close up for the day.”

  Walker rounded the counter and wrapped his sister in a hug, ruffling her hair. Jensen struggled out of his hold. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

  Walker grinned. “Cain’s coming to town.”

  Jensen smiled. “That’s great. We haven’t seen him in forever. How long’s he staying?”

  “He’s buying a place here, so for the foreseeable future.”

  Jensen’s mouth fell open just a bit. “He’s moving here?”

  “Well, he’s buying a vacation home. Not sure how much time he’ll actually spend in it.”

  Jensen laughed. “Ah, to have money to burn.”

  Her words had that spot between my shoulder blades tightening. I forced myself to return my focus to the bakery case. I ran the rag across each shelf, searching for every tiny speck of food I could find.

  Walker chuckled. “Mom’s going to put on a big spread Wednesday night to welcome him to town.”

  Jensen hit a few buttons on the register, pulling out the cash drawer and a deposit envelope. “Of course, she is. I don’t think Tuck and I have any plans, so we’re there.”

  “Good.” Walker rubbed his hands together like a little kid. “Gang’s back together.”

  Jensen let out a snort of laughter. “Just as long as you three aren’t calling me at three a.m. to bail you out of jail.”

  A small smile curved my mouth as I moved to the back counter. I wondered what it would be like to have friends like that. Those who knew your whole history and always gave you the warmest welcome home. I’d never known that kind of relationship. Instead, I’d known so-called friends who dropped me like a contagious disease the moment things got hard. I longed for the kind of bond Walker clearly had with Tuck and this Cain, but that sort of friendship required total honesty, and I simply wasn’t brave enough for that. I’d been hurt too many times before.

  One of the first things I’d done when I got to Portland was to start the process of changing my last name. The whole ordeal had wiped out what little remained of my savings, but it was necessary. I didn’t want anyone from my past to find me, and I didn’t want to see the looks of disgust from the people in my present if they found out the truth. That meant hiring a lawyer to plead my case in the courts for my name change to remain sealed. Thankfully, they had agreed.

  I fiercely protected the freedom my new name had afforded me. I had a driver’s license, but that was it. No credit cards. No bank account. Even my cell phone was one of those pay-as-you-go deals. I would do everything I could to prevent the ghosts of my past from resurfacing.

  “Kenz.”

  Jensen’s voice shook me from my thoughts. “Sorry, what?”

  A little furrow appeared between her brows. “I asked if you could come to dinner on Wednesday.”

  I searched for an excuse, but I wasn’t quick enough.

  Jensen’s lips tipped up. “You can.”

  I twisted the rag in my fingers. “I don’t know, J. It sounds like a family thing.”

  She wrapped an arm around me. “You’re family.”

  My cheeks heated. I wasn’t. I was the hanger-on. The awkward addition that people felt bad for. “It’s really fine. I’ve been working a ton, and it’ll be nice to just have a night off to relax.”

  J gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Nope. No arguments. I’ll pick you up at five.” She paused. “Plus, Cain’s hot. Maybe you two will hit it off.”

  My body stiffened.

  “Jensen,” Walker warned.

  J released her hold on me and shrugged. “What? I’m stupidly happy and in love. Is it so wrong I want everyone else to be, too?”

  My face got hotter. “That’s not really something I’m looking for right now, J.” Lie. Total and complete lie. I wanted a partner, a family, somewhere to belong. I longed for it more than my next breath.

  Walker cleared his throat. “It’s not a good idea.”

  J studied her brother. “He’s had girlfriends. I’ve seen him with them in the papers when he goes to all those fancy shindigs.”

  Walker shook his head. “Yeah, but have you seen those women more than once or twice?”

  Jensen began putting the cash from the register into a zippered pouch. “He just needs to meet the right woman. One who’s not after his money.”

  Well, I certainly wouldn’t be after that. I knew the one thing money did above all others. It corrupted.

  “Little J, you need to let that alone.” Walker pinned Jensen with a hard stare. “You know why.”

  Jensen’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, fine. I won’t meddle.”

  “Thank you.” He brushed a kiss to the top of his sister’s head. “I gotta head back to the station, but I’ll see you ladies Wednesday night.”

  I lifted a hand in a wave. It would be fine. It was just one dinner.

  “See you next week, Annabeth.” I waved to the golden-haired girl as her mother helped her into their minivan. I double-checked the door on the small ballet studio and headed for my bike. Dance had been one of the few things my mother and I had agreed on when I was growing up. And I was especially grateful for all the lessons now because it gave me an extra bit of employment.

  I slid my bag off my shoulder and placed it in my bike basket, careful not to squish the baked goods we had left over from the Kettle that day. I strapped down my bag, my fingers dusting against the satin of my pointe shoes. I winced at the new tear that had appeared in the middle of today’s advanced class. I’d need to stitch that up before my session tomorrow.

  I swung onto the bike and headed out of the parking lot. Late spring meant the smell of pine trees and no need for a jacket. I let my eyes close just for a moment as my bike coasted down the street, the sky still bright with early evening sun. I was so lucky to have landed in this place.

  My eyes opened as the road dipped, and I headed downhill. The warm breeze felt heavenly now, but the trek back up would be killer. It was every night I rode this route.

  I tapped on my brakes, slowing to make the turn into the Sutter Lake community center. The center held my destination for the evening: Hope House. Volunteering was something I’d done most of my life, but typically because it was a requirement of whatever private school I attended. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy offering my time, or wasn’t impacted by those I served, I just didn’t think much about how they had gotten to a place in their lives where they needed help.

  I cringed. I’d been so naïve. It wasn’t until I saw up close and personal the true devastation that my father’s greed wrought that I realized the why behind so much of it. The reason we needed homeless shelters and so many other programs was often because some people took way more than their share. Now, I was doing all I could to help balance those scales.

  But in that act, I’d fallen in love with the process. Helping others find what they needed to get back on their feet lit a fire inside me that I’d never felt before. A sense of purpose and something else I couldn’t quite name. I looked up at the center as I slowed. It was a bit run-down and could be so much more if we had the staff and funds to make it shine. Maybe one day.

  I slid off my bike, taking a minute to lock it to the rack in front of the shelter’s double doors before slinging my bag over my shoulder and grabbing the baked goods from my basket. Heading inside, I felt a small twinge in my back. I’d been pushing it pretty hard lately, but every commitment I had was too
important to let slide.

  “Hey, Kennedy!” Doug’s bright voice greeted from the space that served as both rec room and cafeteria.

  I headed in the direction of the program director’s voice. “Hey, Doug. How are you?”

  “Doing great.” He reached out for my bag of goodies from the Kettle. “Here, let me take those.”

  “Thank you.” I released my hold on the bag and started towards the kitchen.

  Doug followed. “How was ballet today?”

  I smiled at the memory of my last class. The eight-year-olds I taught on Mondays always reminded me why I’d fallen in love with dance in the first place. They would come in wearing leotards and tutus, and when they spun in front of the mirror, they could be anyone their imagination dreamed up. “It was great.”

  He set the bag down on one of the counters. “You know, the Portland Ballet is putting on Swan Lake next month. Maybe we could go?”

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. Doug was a great guy, I valued his friendship and all he did for the shelter, but I felt no spark there. “I don’t know. I’m pretty busy these days.”

  Doug reached out a hand and squeezed my shoulder. “You work too hard. Everyone deserves a break now and then.”

  A throat cleared, and Doug dropped his hand. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Anna. “You ready to get started?” she asked, her eyes flicking back and forth between Doug and me.

  I bent to put my bag in one of the cubbies. “Yup. Just let me wash my hands.”

  Doug shuffled his feet. “I’ve got some paperwork to finish up but give me a holler when you guys are ready to serve the meal, I’ll come out and help.”

  Anna gave Doug a mock salute. “Will do, boss man.”

  Doug chuckled, shaking his head and moving towards his office.

  “Girl, at some point, you’re going to have to just come out and tell him you’re not interested.”

  My stomach twisted. “He’s only being friendly.”

  Anna shook her head and began chopping vegetables. “Friendly is, ‘here, let me carry that bag.’ Not, ‘let me take you to Portland to go to some fancy-schmancy ballet,’ something that will probably cost him hundreds of dollars.” She raised her brows at me to punctuate her point.

  I turned on the faucet and dunked my hands beneath the spray. “He’s a friend, a good one. I think he’ll eventually get the message I’m not interested in more.” I truly believed he would. It wasn’t like he was creepy about his advances; he just had a schoolboy crush. He’d get over it.

  Anna grunted and continued her chopping. “Whatever you say.”

  I reached for a towel to dry my hands. “So, how were things around here today?”

  “Oh, the usual. Folks bickering over what chores they were assigned. Cal trying to steal food between mealtimes. Lizzie spilled paint all over one of the rec tables.” Anna dumped the carrot she’d been chopping into a large pot on the stove.

  I raised my brows at her. “Thank goodness they’ve got you to keep this place running.”

  Anna pointed her knife at me, and her face broke out into a grin. “And don’t you forget it.”

  Anna was a shelter hybrid. She’d moved in as a guest, and like all those who stayed here, she had been required to work to help keep the place running. But, unlike the others who typically used the shelter as a brief stop on their way to something more permanent, Anna had stayed. Now, she pretty much ran the show. Doug might have the director plaque on his door, but everyone knew it was Anna who really called the shots.

  We worked together in a mostly silent rhythm, broken only by Anna assigning me tasks, ones she knew were within my skill set where I wouldn’t accidentally set the kitchen on fire. This was my favorite part of the day. The one time the guilt released its hold, just a bit. The one time I didn’t feel like a drain on the world around me, but instead like I gave something back. The one time a feeling of worth truly seeped into my bones and settled there.

  I just wished it would stay a little bit longer.

  4

  Cain

  There was a pop as the door to my jet opened, a release of pressure mirrored in my chest. Relief at getting some distance from Portland, having some privacy to deal with every demon this past week had raised, and simply having a moment to breathe.

  I rose from my seat, grabbing my briefcase. The flight attendant stepped into the aisle, looking up at me through fluttering lashes. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Hale? Anything at all?”

  I fought the sneer that wanted to surface. Her movements felt desperate and grasping and seemed to grate against my skin. “No, thank you. I’ll just be on my way.”

  A flicker of annoyance passed over the woman’s face. “Of course, sir.” She stepped out of my path.

  I headed down the aisle, careful to keep my distance as I passed the woman. I ducked through the door and stepped out into the sunshine, inhaling deeply. The runway was surrounded by forest. The fresh pine scent filling my lungs had my muscles easing. This was precisely what I needed, some distance from the ghosts haunting me in Portland, and some good old-fashioned peace and quiet.

  “Mr. Hale, sir.”

  I blinked against the sun to see a man wearing slacks and a button-down, standing near an SUV. “Mr. Fields?”

  The man strode towards me, extending his hand. “I have your vehicle all ready for you.” He inclined his head to the Range Rover behind him. “All the requirements are to your specifications. And if you have any issues, please contact me directly.”

  I nodded, shaking the man’s hand. “Thank you. I appreciate you bringing it to the airstrip.”

  Fields grinned. “Happy to do so.”

  Of course, he was happy. I’d taken a top-of-the-line Range Rover off his hands and paid cash for it. “Keys?”

  Fields handed them over. “Will you be needing anything else?”

  “That’s all.” I beeped the locks so the porter could stow my bags in the back.

  Fields gave a nod. “It was wonderful doing business with you.” He turned and walked to a waiting vehicle. I instantly liked him. No polite chit-chat. No wasting of my time. Simply gave me what I asked for and left. I’d use him again if I decided I needed another toy out here, something that went fast.

  “All of your bags are stowed, Mr. Hale. Can I do anything else for you?” The porter barely made eye contact with me when he asked.

  “That’ll be all. Thank you.” I reached out, handing him a bill.

  His eyes bulged as he took in the president on the paper. “Thank you, sir.”

  I climbed into the Rover and pressed the button to start the engine, glancing at the clock. I had fifteen minutes before I needed to meet the realtor at the first property. I plugged the address into the navigation system and headed out.

  The tiny Sutter Lake airport, more designed for hobby pilots and skydiving, sat on the edge of town. As I made the turn onto Main Street, I grinned. I hadn’t been here in a year or two, but nothing had changed. The streets were immaculately kept with baskets of bright flowers hanging from antique lamp posts. The storefronts all looked as though they belonged on the set of an old western film. And people milled about with smiles on their faces.

  It was the perfect, picturesque small town. But I knew better than most that small, idyllic places sometimes held the darkest secrets. Sutter Lake was no different. They’d had their share of heartache lately, and my friends had not come out unscathed. But they had come out alive, and so had the women they loved. And that’s what was important.

  I made it through downtown in approximately ninety seconds. I grimaced, thinking of all the things from the city I wouldn’t have access to. It would be worth it for a little peace.

  Soon, the paved roads turned to gravel, and I wound around until my GPS told me to turn onto a private drive. The gate was wide open, and I didn’t see any security system in place. That would be the first thing that would have to change if I bought the home.

  My vehicl
e climbed the gravel drive, and as I crested a hill, the full picture of the property came into view. The house was large, a well-designed mix of wood and stone. This could work. What wouldn’t, was the vast array of outbuildings. Barns and what I assumed were storage sheds for machinery.

  My jaw made a clicking noise as it clenched, the sound that always belied my frustration. I didn’t want to run a farm or a ranch or anything of the sort. I wanted privacy. I’d made that clear when I spoke with the realtor. Privacy meant no staff. No one nosing around to deal with land or animal maintenance.

  I shut off the Rover and climbed out. A woman stood on the front steps of the house. Her blonde hair was perfectly curled, her makeup expertly done. She wore a figure-hugging dress paired with cowboy boots and a cat-that-got-the-canary smile. “Mr. Hale, I’m Kelly. So lovely to meet you in person. What do you think? It’s perfect, right?”

  I scowled. “No.”

  Her smile faltered. “No?”

  I strode towards her. “No. Privacy.”

  A look of bafflement overtook her face. “This ranch is ten thousand acres. You can’t get much more private than that.”

  I shook my head. She didn’t get it. “I need a property that doesn’t require a massive staff for maintenance.” I gestured around us. “Fields that need tending, animals. No.”

  The realtor blinked up at me for a moment, then straightened her shoulders. “All right, then.” She pulled a tablet from the purse on her shoulder and began tapping on the screen. “Let me just adjust our plan for the afternoon.”

  I waited in silence as she scrolled. I wondered if I’d be able to find a place here. I hadn’t really thought through everything that went into these country homes. Was there even anything here that wasn’t full of crops and livestock?

 

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