by Bellus, HJ
“Mom was going to leave him. It was the last day of the trial, the one day she stayed sober, and it was clear our dad bought the case to have the charges dropped. He was more worried about the power struggle between him and the sheriff and his buddy than his daughter. It was always about reputation with that rotten bastard.
“Mom sent Truckee and me to go find Saige. She had a horse she loved and we all figured she was spending some quiet moments with her best friend before the final day in court. We opened the barn door and found our baby sister hanging lifeless from a rope. She hung herself.”
I gasp, not able to mask my emotions. I move on instinct, turning to face him and wrapping my arms around his neck. Searing tears tumble down my cheeks at the heartache stemming from this strong man.
Cray’s hands run up and down my back in soothing circles. I keep my face buried in his neck feeling all of our pain and torture mingled into one cloudy storm until I don’t know whose is whose.
“Look at me.” Cray’s husky voice sends tingles up and down my spine.
I do, forgoing wiping any tears away. I’m done hiding.
He cups my cheeks, his rich, dark, brooding chocolate eyes focused on me. “That’s why I refused to let you kill yourself and that’s why I refuse to let anyone in this fucking town say something about you, and it’s the exact same reason I’ll protect you from all of it.”
It’s not Dalton who moves first. It’s me, and this time I know exactly what I want. There’s no second-guessing it as I press my lips to his. It’s just like all the first kiss stories June shared with me. There’s the zing and the magic and so much more as his full lips freeze at first then press into mine. I feel it all even though neither of us move as our lips connect. I need so much more, but this is the perfect next step in my life. I believe every single one of his words.
I have no idea how long we stay connected before I pull away and roll to his side. I don’t say a word handing him my journal that was lost in conversation, making sure it’s open to the page where I just spilled all my secrets. It’s ironic that Cray knows the ugliest parts of the truth, but this slice has the power to crack me wide open right down to the core.
And that’s why I decide to roll over as he reads. I don’t say a word and neither does he. Just when I think he’s about to fall asleep next to me Cray surprises me. I feel rustling then his lips on my temple.
“I got you. Always will, pretty girl.”
The bed dips, door cracks, and hushed whispers begin. Truckee’s gruff, barking voice streams through to my door. I don’t have to think twice about what’s about to go down. I don’t worry or drown in self-remorse. I curl down in the blankets and let my soft pillow cradle me right into slumber, knowing I’m taken care of. It may not turn out in my favor, but there are people on my side and that fact puts me right to sleep. Flashes of light and loud sounds stir me to wake hours later, but I fall right back to sleep.
I should’ve shot straight out of bed. I should’ve been worried. I should’ve ran and not looked back. I don’t and that might become my heart’s biggest regret.
Chapter Twenty-One
Frankie
The sound of my door stirs me awake. I cover my eyes, shading them from the sun pouring in my windows. Once they get adjusted to the light, I glance over to the door to see Cray freshly showered in a white t-shirt and sweatpants. If I thought he was exhausted before I was so very wrong. The man looks like he could collapse at any minute.
“Just checking in on you.” He scrubs his hands over his face.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
“Everything is okay,” he responds.
“That’s not what I asked.”
He nods. I pat the side of my bed. I want to ask so many questions. I don’t need to because I know deep down he and Truckee took care of everything and that’s all that matters. The details are what I want to know. Can it be traced back to them? Where did they take him? Is there anymore evidence lingering? Days ago, I wouldn’t have given a shit. But there’s been a tiny spark ignited inside of me from the caring people now in my life.
“Not gonna lie, pretty girl. I’m dead ass tired.”
“Lie down.” I scoot over in bed, grabbing my journal from his side of the bed and placing it on my nightstand.
Cray doesn’t even have to think about it this time. His body collapses onto the bed. He lands on his back, slings a hand over his forehead and before too long his breathing evens out. This hero of a man is out. I don’t need to be a detective to know he’s exhausted and his body and mind have been exercised to their limit. I also don’t have to think long and hard on why this is the case. He did it. Found the devil and got rid of the last piece of evidence. His body.
I don’t move for several minutes even though my aching joints and limbs scream to stretch out. I’m entranced by his gentle and peaceful beauty. Yes, beauty, yet he’s rugged and powerful in every single way.
I scoot over next to him until his woodsy scent fills my senses, and bring my hand up to his prominent jawline that is covered in thick scruff. I let my fingers trace up and down it with a gentle touch. The gratitude and overwhelming appreciation for being saved by the hands of this man powers me to lean forward and place a gentle kiss to his lips.
“Thank you,” I whisper, brushing his lips. “Thank you for saving me from myself.”
I sit up in the bed, crossing my legs and folding my hands in my lap to keep myself from more touching and kissing. I can’t explain it and I know it may even be wrong, but his presence and touch consume me as I’ve never experienced before. A wildfire of emotions makes me soar, creating a hunger inside me to heal and become the person I was always meant to be.
I move, doing my best to get off the bed without waking Cray. He rolls over on his side facing me, reaching out to grab my hand. He laces his fingers in mine and squeezes.
He squints open his eyes and mumbles, “I want to take you somewhere today.”
“Okay.” I nod.
“I need to sleep first.”
“Okay.” I nod again, suddenly unable to produce any other coherent words.
Cray tugs on my hand until I’m hovering over his lips. “I liked that kiss.”
“Me, too,” I whisper.
This time it’s Cray who raises his head until his full, sexy lips meet mine. Neither of us move, not taking the kiss any further. We’re still absorbing each other with eyes wide open. So much is communicated between us without a single spoken word. There’s no need for them. I’ve exposed my core to this man and he never glanced away. No, he stepped up full force to rescue me. I’ve only known love from my grandma and June, so I’m no wizard in this area by any means. But it doesn’t stop me from claiming this is love in the rarest form possible. It’s scary and exhilarating but everything is okay with his touch.
A loud noise coming from the kitchen breaks the trance we were both drowning in. I pull back first, running a hand over my short hair.
“Get some rest.” I stand from the bed. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I have no idea why I added that last part. Of course I’ll be here; it’s not like I have anywhere to go or even a damn driver’s license to get there.
He nods. “I need sleep, but then like I said, we are going somewhere. And, Frankie…” I turn to make eye contact when he pauses. “It’s all taken care of, Frankie, every single part.” His heavy eyelids close with ease.
I want to ask him so many questions, like how does he know it’s all taken care of, and how and what he did. I don’t let all those pesky questions slip through my lips. What does escape surprises even myself.
“Thank you.” I pause, clutching my hands to my chest. “But the whole town will think different. I’m sure there are already rumors floating around everywhere.”
“Oh, there are rumors and, Frankie, I don’t give a shit about any one of them. I’m the law here and have covered everything up. You’re safe.” His voice drifts off. I have no idea what he did or w
here he was all night, but what I can tell is his body is beyond exhausted.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
And he’s right. In a few seconds of clarity, my “aha” moment strikes hard. I shouldn’t give a shit what others think. They have no idea what I’ve been through. They’ve chalked me up as the freak in town and who knows what else. I’m so over this shit town and the mentality of its residents. They can spend the rest of their life praising the evil pastor and searching for him for all I care. I have no doubt someone just as evil as that bastard will step up in his place.
The chains that have bound me for years have been shattered. I’m free from the external danger that outlined my life for so many years. Inside is a different story. At one point, I wanted to end it all without a second thought, but now there’s a flicker of fight deep down in my gut. I was gifted a slice of reprieve and now the ball is in my court.
I need a clear head and move without thinking, instantly missing the sight of Cray sprawled out in my bed. My bright yellow tennis shoes are laced and earbuds blare music in my ears before I know it. I open the back door to the fresh, crisp morning air. The sun is high up in the sky, ready to bestow its warmth on us. Opal was in the laundry room and I can only assume Truckee is passed out as well. I don’t think twice before taking off down the road. I study the pastor’s house as I jog past it no longer afraid. I smile, knowing damn well he can never hurt me again and neither can any of his supporters because of the team that has my back.
I don’t take the easy path of backcountry roads this morning. Hell, no. I pick up my pace straight into town, right down the main street. Not even the threat of Les Monroe can scare me away or change my decision. I won the fight. I’m here. I may be broken and shattered, but I’m here and now have a chance at life.
I ignore each of the prying stares, embracing the feel of the breeze flowing through my short hair. There’s no oversized sweatshirt or hoodie pulled up to hide myself from the world. I’m here with choices to make and a heart that beats a tick faster with the thought of Cray. It’s all enough to make my head spin in chaos. But this time it’s beautiful, crazy chaos that sets my skin ablaze in a whole different way.
I’m halted in my tracks coming to an abrupt stop when someone steps out in front of me. I damn near lurch forward meeting the harsh sidewalk, but manage to catch myself, slamming my hand to my chest.
“The nerve of you, little girl.” Veronica, bathed head to toe in hot pink, shakes a finger at me.
I’m so out of breath there’s no chance to respond to her and honestly, I can’t put together what in the hell is wrong with her.
“Where is he? We all know you had something to do with it.”
I don’t answer, taking a step back, still struggling to gulp in oxygen. My body just went from pushing itself to standing still.
“How dare you flaunt the streets in those skimpy shorts and tank top after years of being a recluse? Les was right. You were so infatuated with Pastor Chapman that you couldn’t handle that he didn’t want you. Les told me to keep this secret to myself, but too much has gone on.”
“Excuse me, Veronica, I’m just out for a run.” I step forward ready to shoulder past her.
“No.” She grabs my upper arm, squeezing until it’s damn near painful. “I’ve kept the secret Les told me for a few years now. How you’d always try to get fresh with Pastor Chapman. You didn’t get your way and became a damn recluse because Pastor didn’t want you that way. In my opinion, you’re just a spoiled brat that gave your grandma hell.” She shakes her head. “I never wanted to speak ill of your grandmother. She was one amazing woman. So many rumors have drifted around this small town for years about possible severe anxiety attacks and possibly PTSD from something that had happened to you, but I knew the truth and now our good friend is gone and there’s only one person to blame. Pastor Chapman was so torn up about your behavior. I want answers and now.”
“Veronica.” A sharp voice cuts into the one-sided conversation. Les, her husband, strides out of the coffee shop with a fierce determination flickering in his evil gaze. I don’t miss his black eye and don’t wonder why he’s out of jail. Hell, Truckee wasn’t arrested and that’s enough for me.
I take her brief moment of being caught off-guard to rip my arm away from her and step back. It would be so easy to turn my back on them and run home. Something inside of me refuses to allow that to happen.
“What do you think you’re doing, Veronica?” he grits out each word, jaw tight, and fists clenched at his sides.
“Getting answers,” she spits and glances back to me. “I’m not afraid to rip the Band-Aid off like everyone else in this community.”
They go back and forth several times with me standing here glancing back and forth. The amount of lies the people of this town have digested and forced themselves to believe is unreal. It was easier to chalk everything up to a rumor or speculation than to dig deep and ask why. The shadow of all their guilt trails closely behind each one of them. It’s their burden to bear, not mine.
I take a step forward and clear my throat waiting a few seconds until I have all of their attention.
“I have no idea where Pastor Chapman is.” It’s not a lie and that forces a genuine grin on my face. “Also, I suggest asking your husband for the truth, not the lie he chose to tell you to shed guilt and shame on me. He knows exactly what happened.”
I pound my chest. “Yes, me, an innocent child who was abused by both men. Once you get the truth you may not be so quick to judge. And, fair warning, you might want to keep your voice down on Main Street because the truth isn’t pretty, Veronica.”
Veronica doesn’t stop opening her mouth to fire back a retort. I see the moment Veronica spots all the scars lining the inside of my arms. Let her stare, they are battle scars that have got me here. Les steps up next to her, glowering down.
“Enough, Veronica. I’m not going to say it again.”
He turns to me, staring at me. The color of those eyes threaten to tear down all the bravado I’ve built up. I square my shoulders and do my best to stand strong.
“Les Monroe.”
We all turn to see where the voice is coming from. It’s a deputy close to my age. I think we went to school together.
“You’re under arrest for embezzlement. You have the right to remain silent.”
The deputy carries on with his job.
“How dare you? You grew up next to us. I was your little league soccer coach!” Les rattles on.
The young cop doesn’t stutter and continues. Veronica’s wails fill the air. With my shoulders held high, I continue jogging down the main street of my town.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dalton Cray
“He’s going to lose his shit. Just let him sleep a little longer. Last night was rough as hell on him.” Truckee’s deep voice drifts into my sleepy brain.
“We need to find her,” Opal responds.
“Simmer the fuck down,” Truckee hisses. “Her sneakers are gone. I’m sure she went for a run.”
“And you think that’s all right? Just because Frankie is functioning right now does not mean she’s healed. That girl is far from it.”
I fling the door open to find Opal up in Truckee’s face, thumping his chest with her finger. I wipe the sleep away from my eyes doing my best to gain my bearings. I check my wristwatch and see I was dead to the world for nearly three hours.
“What the hell is going on?” I growl, not impressed I was pulled from my sleep.
“Frankie is gone.” Opal is the first one to speak.
“She’s not gone.” Truckee shakes his head and balls his fists. “She went for a run.”
“Who the hell was watching her?” I bust pass them.
“I was,” Opal answers. “I thought she was still sleeping, and after I moved the laundry from the washer to the dryer, I figured she was still out. I finished making a late breakfast and went to find her and…”
“I was trying to sleep since
I was out as late as you last night,” Truckee hisses.
“Son of a bitch,” I growl, tugging on my boots and going for the door.
I knew it. Everything was going too well. Hell, last night went off with no hitches. Sent all of my deputies on a wild goose chase to distract them, giving Truckee, myself, and his hired men plenty of time to get the body out and the earth put back in place. Truckee’s men even sent up some hard leads hinting that the disappearance of Pastor Chapman was related to some serious gambling bets.
That kiss when I relaxed back on her bed set me to peace. Damn, I wanted and needed so much more, even though I knew it was so wrong, but there’s just something about her. Thank fuck, my body was exhausted and couldn’t move. I know she didn’t run away from us and I’m damn certain she’s not trying to hurt herself either.
I slam the back door open. The sun pierces my dry eyeballs causing me to flinch, but not step back. I shade my eyes, digging in my pocket for my keys and taking long strides to my truck, ready to tear shit apart. I know this feeling isn’t healthy. All of Opal’s reminders warning me to let Frankie stand on her own and not get connected flash through my mind. I’m so fucked.
A flash of yellow catches my attention. When I look closer, it’s someone running up the road. It’s her. I barely recognize Frankie in a pair of shorts and a tank top exposing her skin. She’s glowing and that’s not a sentimental bullshit phrase. She’s physically glowing under the sun, shining with authenticity. Talk about a flower bud blooming, she’s done much more than that. I blink once then twice before she stops right in front of me.
“Hey.” She waves, plucking an earbud from her ear then leaning over, resting her palms on the top of her knees, catching her breath.
“Um.” I scratch my head, knowing I have no right to rip into her or squeeze the hell out of her right now like I want to. I’m not sure if it’s the fear or sheer happiness of seeing her smiling.