by Ashley Munoz
“Honey, this is small-town Tennessee—of course I have a box on hand. Hell, it’s on my grocery list every week. It’s a wonder I’m not five hundred pounds yet with how often Ms. Marshall comes over.” My mother bit into her milk chocolate ball of goodness and smiled. “So, what bee has gotten into your bonnet, sweet girl?” My mother encouraged me to spill my secrets while licking her fingers.
“It’s about June Walker,” I explained, slightly embarrassed that I had to ask her at all.
Her blue eyes searched mine and softened. “Oh honey…I figured…” She trailed off, grabbing another truffle, a little too fast for my liking. She figured Jace had told me, or Gemma, or someone, but I had cut off all Jace-related information when I left. It was too painful. It was no secret I never gave Bryan my whole heart. I would have if I could; it just wasn’t there to offer.
I had vowed to be his wife, in sickness and in health, until death do us part, which I’d meant with my whole being, like a duty…even an honor, but there wasn’t any fire behind my words. I assumed Bryan never noticed, at least not enough to warrant any concern. There was no malice in the decision. I had loved Bryan, in a different kind of way.
“She passed while Jace was in jail. When he got out, he just…” My mother trailed off again, staring at the floor. Meanwhile, I felt it shifting beneath my feet.
“He was in jail? For what…how long?” I gasped. What in the hell? Jace would never break the law, ever.
A line formed between my mother’s eyebrows. The way she stared down at the couch with such intensity, I wondered if she’d forgotten or was just unsure.
“Someone caught him stealing pain pills from the local pharmacy…he…” She lagged again, looking over her shoulder as if watching for someone. Sometimes she did that, as though Jesus was standing there, so I didn’t pay it any mind. Suddenly she blinked and grabbed the empty truffle box. “Well, you know the rules, baby girl—that’s enough of that.”
I wanted more from her, needed it, but her rules about gossip were firm. Of all the times to have principles, now wasn’t it. I nearly reached forward to grab her hand, but she’d already stood up and taken a few steps toward the kitchen. This conversation was over, and she wouldn’t be bringing it up again.
I slumped in my chair, my eyes jumping over the webpage I had pulled up. After my conversation with my mom, I’d trudged upstairs to wallow. I’d missed too much over the past five years. My father had quit his job at the insurance firm he was at; that had been over two years earlier, and I’d never even asked where he’d been since.
My mother, I assumed, was filling the same role she always had: church receptionist, volunteer for everything that ever existed, and occasional babysitter. But that wasn’t right, either, because she was leaving every morning at seven on the dot, donning blue scrubs. It was like walking through a photograph, seeing still images of a life you’d once known but couldn’t touch.
Then there was Jace, and him going to jail…his mother. My fingers ached to dig for the information I didn’t have, but something inside me wanted to hear everything from him. As unlikely as it was that he’d ever tell me, I still needed to hear this news from his heart.
Blinking away thoughts of him, I thought about my own journey back, and I didn’t love the feeling stirred up by my examination.
I didn’t like me.
I didn’t like who I’d chosen to be, not five years ago and not now. Even before the abuse, I’d ignored my family, my friends, my goals and dreams, all for the sake of hanging on the arm of a man. There can be honor in laying down dreams for family, for children, and in some cases, for marriage, but that wasn’t what I’d done. I ran.
I ran and kept running, and people were hurt because of it.
I shoved down the simmering shame that was begging me to just give up and hide and navigated the website in front of me. Blue and white saturated the screen, a tower of girls in cheerleading uniforms stacked on top of each other with massive smiles stretching across their faces. My heart thumped hard with anticipation.
College had always been this daunting idea that was out there, existing but not. It was as likely to happen as it was for me to get a selfie with Gwen. It could happen, it just probably wouldn’t.
But there were online courses… I lifted an eyebrow, clicking on the blue tile for more information. This could happen. I could maybe, possibly go to college and get a degree. Dreams of applying to a few coveted interior design programs rolled around in my head as I sat there, clicking aimlessly.
I had to start somewhere, had to stop running and hiding…so I signed up for a meeting with one of the admissions counselors then shut the laptop.
Eleven
The sound of muffled voices and laughter had me rolling out from under Faith’s Rover and eyeing the office door suspiciously. I couldn’t make out who was saying what, but it gave me the same vibes it had the other day when Faith was outside my house. Now, it was the middle of the week, and after seeing her nearly every day, I was hoping for a reprieve.
Monday she was at the post office. Tuesday she was grabbing water at the Quick Stop, and that one particularly sucked because she’d just finished a run and was wearing skin tight yoga pants paired with just a sports bra.
Did I mention she was glistening with sweat? I wanted to walk her back against the glass case and start things we never should have stopped. Instead, I insulted her. That seemed to be the safest thing to do when I was around her and highly aroused.
Now it was Wednesday, and I was getting tired of having to relieve myself of the stress and tension of seeing her every day in my shower every night. It would have been so much easier if she were wearing a ring, but that fourth finger had remained bare.
It didn’t help matters that a few celebrity gossip networks had started running stories on their opinions regarding the tech tycoon Bryan Vanderson attending not one but two charity events alone.
It had piqued my curiosity enough to Google search everything I could on the topic, but all it led to was a bunch of images of the two of them together—holding hands, kissing, and of course, most were of their wedding. I couldn’t stomach more than about ten minutes of that before I slammed my laptop shut. I just wanted her gone. I wanted the memories she’d stirred up gone. I wanted the pain and reminder of betrayal gone.
All of it—fucking gone.
I wiped my hands on an oil rag and grabbed my water, taking a big drink then splashing it over my face to get rid of the grime and sweat. The shop was mine and I was damn proud, but it was older and there were more than a few things that needed upgrading. Having air conditioning was one of them, but that would cost a pretty penny and would cut into my savings quite a bit. I made sure Jessie had a small one in the office, but otherwise I just tried to ignore the sweltering heat.
I wandered toward the office door, hearing the laughter get louder. Pushing it open, I saw Faith leaning against the counter in cutoff shorts, revealing all that tan skin and toned leg, all the way up to the curve of her ass. My dick stirred, causing me to dig out an insult to throw at her.
“Well, don’t you look like a redneck’s wet dream.” I leaned against the door, hoping to make her as uncomfortable as she was always making me. I hated myself for still wanting her so badly.
Her face flushed crimson, but a second later she seemed to recover. “I was just coming by to check on my car and bring these over.” She gestured toward a basket of muffins. They were chocolate with tiny chocolate chips, likely made with zucchini…my favorite.
I cleared my throat and shoved away from the door. “Too bad we can’t have you bringing food like that ’round here.”
“Why the hell not?” Jessie asked, twisting her face in confusion, reaching for a muffin. They probably tasted really fucking good.
“It’s a policy, Jessie. We don’t accept anything that’s not store-bought…you know, like the schools. It’s a safety measure.” I headed toward the files and ignored the frown marring Faith’s pretty featur
es. There was an uncomfortable shift in my chest at seeing her react to my anger like this.
“Why do you hate me?” Faith whispered, like she’d finally hit her limit. Her chest was rising and falling with every angry harsh intake of breath. She walked toward me until her body was nearly pressed up against mine. My fingers itched to grab her hips and drag her back into my garage.
Inhaling her scent of cinnamon and sugar, I blinked, wanting to remove the memories attached to her always smelling like a freshly baked cookie. I wanted to scream at her, wanted to yell all the reasons why I hated her so much, how she’d ruined me all those years ago, then I wanted to kiss her and fuck her out of my system—but I was above that. She didn’t need to know how much power she still had over me.
“Hate you? I don’t hate you.” I laughed, stepping closer, gazing down at her. I pulled her chin up with my finger and searched her face as I muttered, “I just don’t care about you one way or the other, but more than that…I don’t want anything from you. Not ever.”
I let her go, laughing and stalking off toward the far wall where more client files sat. I didn’t look at her expression, already knowing what I’d find there.
“Your car will be ready by Friday.”
I kept my back to her until I heard the bell above the door jingle.
“You made her cry,” Jessie said, crossing her arms. “Does that honestly make you feel better about all this?”
I ground my molars together and walked past her. I didn’t owe her anything, and I’d have rather gone back to jail than admit that making Faith cry was like tearing a hole right through my midsection.
Five years earlier: August
The first time I stole from the pharmacy, I was fifteen years old. My mother was coughing, vomiting, and wouldn’t eat. I remembered my father talking about how there was no way we could afford her medicine. The doctor had called it into the pharmacy, but we wouldn’t be picking it up.
We had sixty dollars in our bank account, and that wouldn’t even cover the light bill that was due. My father was crying, sobbing like a child, while my mother coughed and coughed.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I ran out the door and hatched a shit-brained idea halfway there. A small pick of the back lock of the pharmacy door and all my problems were solved. Find the shelf that held pick-up orders, and everything would be okay.
I never took more than I needed, even though I sometimes needed to ensure it wasn’t only my mother’s medicine that went missing. I needed to make it look like someone there was messing up. The new guy, Drew, was easy enough to pin it on. I knew I’d figure it out as I went, if and when he got fired.
But that was it. I never stole any cash, only her medicine.
No one asked questions since I started working at a local mechanic shop for some extra cash. After that, it was easy to get what I needed, and I didn’t even feel any guilt—not until I turned seventeen and I realized what I might lose if I ever got caught.
So, I stopped. I thought we’d be okay, especially since I was pulling in more money and Mom had made some progress with her health. I stopped for six months, until one night I found my mother passed out with a bottle of oxy next to her.
She had to have her stomach pumped, and she nearly died. She told me she had run out of meds, and since we couldn’t afford any more, she’d found someone who could get her narcotics.
I ensured the order was called in and went back to the pharmacy that night, and I didn’t stop going.
I hated not knowing who was trying to blackmail me. It had me sick. Numb. Fucking terrified. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. My mother needed me. Even if I couldn’t steal her meds anymore, I could work, and then there was Faith.
The love of my life.
The woman I planned to marry.
I couldn’t just walk away from her…I wouldn’t, but that didn’t change the fact that I had been reluctantly distant from her. I’d sneak in through her window, but only to touch her, to sink as far into her as I could and connect with her in a way that didn’t require words. Sex was starting to be an outlet for me, a source of relief from the overwhelming anxiety.
I was demanding it more than normal, surprising Faith at work, driving her out to McGrady’s orchard. They were quick, rushed moments of intense pleasure. It was gratifying and perfect, but Faith knew something was wrong.
We weren’t making love; we were fucking, something we’d never done before. Every time we had ever been together, we were just that—together, intimate. We made love, but with fear beating hard in my chest, I didn’t know how to be that person with her right then.
She was slipping away, each passing day and every time we were together. It was only a matter of time before she demanded to know what was wrong, and Faith was so good she’d insist I turn myself in. That or she’d agree to run with me; both were out of the question.
I was distracted, so I didn’t expect anything to show up in the mail, but that day, there was another padded envelope.
My fingers shook as I pulled on the tab.
My breathing shuddered as I tugged the contents out. Photographs of me breaking into the pharmacy were tucked inside, each time stamped with a different date.
I roared in frustration. Hurrying into the kitchen to rummage for a lighter, I torched the pictures. I knew these were just duplicates, but I still didn’t want them anywhere anyone could find them.
A part of me just wanted to end it, figure out who was doing this, because I couldn’t eat or sleep. Everything was a massive clusterfuck, and I felt like I was losing my mind.
That night I lay awake thinking over the situation. If it was indeed blackmail, that meant whoever had sent it wanted something from me. I didn’t have shit, so that thought terrified me.
What exactly could they want from a poor kid living in a trailer park?
Twelve
“Whiskey.” I knocked my knuckles on the bar and nodded to Derek, the bartender. I liked Derek because he always knew what kind of whiskey I wanted without having to ask, and because he never cut me off. He knew I knew how to handle my drinks, and a man who knew that about another man was a good guy in my book.
“So, you tellin’ me she shows back up here and you aren’t even the least bit curious about what in the hell brought her back?” Seth inquired again, like he was a fucking detective and I was being investigated for the disappearance of his dick. I eyed him. He had his dark auburn hair shoved under a black baseball cap, and his pale face had been shaved recently, meaning he was hoping to get laid. He was nearly as tall as me, but he wasn’t as broad. He reminded me of a professional skater or snowboarder.
He needed a life, and to stop wearing comic book characters on his t-shirts if he did in fact want to get laid.
I tipped my glass back, relishing the burn in my throat, and ignored my friend. I needed another drink if Seth was going to keep bringing Faith up. It had been almost a month since she’d arrived, and I had seen her nearly every day in some fashion.
After seeing her on Wednesday, I saw her at the dog park with Trudy on Thursday. Trevor and I left promptly. Friday, she came to get her car. I made sure I wasn’t there for that little encounter, but later that afternoon, she was sunbathing at the pool.
That shit should have been illegal. I nearly drowned the lifeguard because he wasn’t watching anyone swimming, his pervy eyes fixed on Faith in a bikini. For the record, I didn’t blame him, because again, she was all grown up. All woman, with curves and breasts, toned legs and defined abs. She was more than anything I’d ever imagined she’d be, and she wasn’t mine.
She belonged to another man, and that reminder alone was making me insane. So, as each day hit, I became more and more annoyed. Now I was spending my Saturday night in Shelby, because I needed one day, one 24-hour period where I didn’t see those blue eyes or that blonde hair or those freckles.
The ones I used to count with my lips, which would turn into a much dirtier game of trying to find all the f
reckles she had on her body. If I could find each one and mark it with a kiss, I’d advance in bases with her. It was how we ended up taking each other’s virginity the summer we were seventeen.
“I frankly don’t give a fuck,” I muttered, waving my hand at Derek, thankful for his knowing nod. Seth made a sound of disapproval next to me and then let out a laugh.
“Well shit me and fuck you very much.” His annoying phrase for when something surprised him caught my attention. I turned my head to see what was over Seth’s shoulder and slammed my teeth together in frustration.
No. Fucking. Way.
Faith waltzed in with Gemma on her arm. The two of them were already laughing and joking like they’d been drinking. Faith was wearing a tiny black dress with high strappy heels, showing off her tan legs, and with her red lips, she looked every inch the girl I once knew who’d hoarded that specific shade of Gwen Stefani red.
She always went hunting for it in every store that sold even the smallest bit of makeup. She’d pay with nickels, dimes, and quarters, whatever she could scrounge up just to afford the cosmetic, sayin’ Gwen was worth it.
Derek placed the refreshed tumbler of whiskey in front of me, breaking me away from memories still lingering at the darkened edges of my mind. I missed the sound of the stool moving next to me when Seth started walking toward the two of them. The fucker.
I tried to reach out and grip his shoulder, but he was too far.
So, I stayed put, drank, and watched from afar. Seth, Faith, and Gemma all went as far back as the second grade. I’d moved here before my sixth grade year, at which point Faith had landed on my radar. She hadn’t known I liked her.