I nod. “Absolutely.”
“You two are masochists.” She glances between us as I grab the remote. “Making me watch all these old sad movies that hurt.”
“The best ones,” Mom replies, a hint of sadness lacing in her words.
“That may be the truth for some, but I still believe in Prince Charming,” Christy declares, “no matter what brutes you are to me.”
“As you should,” Mom chimes in, “but just know, the picture in your head might not match your reality. There are very few men worth the hell they put you through. So be very careful about who you give your heart and body to. They might eventually take more than you can handle.”
Touché, Mom. Touché.
“Brace yourself,” I say to Christy, grabbing the remote. “This was made in eighty-one.”
“Oh, God.” She sinks beneath the blanket on the couch. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”
Mom winks at me, stubbing out her cigarette as I press play on Endless Love.
It’s there in that living room I find some strength. It’s not the movies I grew up watching with my mom, that she shared with her own mother that gave it to me, though I’m sure they didn’t fucking help my warped perception of love. The strength I draw is from the women surrounding me. For months, I’ve lived for nothing but the men that consumed me before throwing me away. Despite my best efforts, I’d lost myself in them, allowed my affection for them to take up my existence. I made no friends outside their circle, and when I get back, I’ll have no life beyond them. I might have discovered a few things, but mostly all I’ve become is co-dependent. And I’ll make it a point to rectify that.
The only thing I have left to do is grieve and get angry.
And though it hurts like no other pain I’ve felt, I did what I set out to do.
I can safely say Cecelia Horner is a wallflower no more.
I leapt, and now I have to decide if this pain I’m feeling was worth the trade-off of one unforgettable summer.
Time to kick, Cecelia.
Brooke Shields comes on screen, beautiful, naïve, innocence intact as she takes the steps down the stairs to her lover, untouched by the bitterness that I can’t help but feel, and I want to warn her, to tell her that look she’s giving that boy as they fuck by the firelight is going to cost her. Instead, I ache with her and grieve the innocence she’s letting go of because deep down, I’m still addicted to that all-too-familiar feeling. My heart curses me as I watch on rapt, reliving my days and nights beneath the trees and stars.
As I watch, all I can do is feel the sting of loss and mourn the girl she was before love took hold of her.
My phone buzzes on the table in front of me and Christy’s eyes meet mine as NEVER ANSWER crosses my screen.
I silence it without hesitation, and she gives me a proud smile before her gaze darts back to the movie, her eyes love drunk.
But mine are wide open.
It’s the addict in me fighting to keep me in the deep end, and so, I do the only thing I can.
I kick.
THE DAY I RETURN HOME to Triple Falls, I change the gate code and trash the bikini I wore the day at the lake. My phone buzzes with a lone text and I ignore it. I haven’t permitted myself to check Sean’s messages yet. There’s no excuse, no reason I can fathom that will ever be good enough for what they’ve done to me.
I’ve trapped myself in my bedroom and spent the majority of my day reading up on career possibilities and the majors that coincide with them. I’ll have the first year of school to seriously mull it over, so I rest easy in that knowledge but decide to get a jump on my pre-requisites and sign up for fall classes. Between my time at community college and working at the plant, I’ll stay busy enough to keep my nose clean.
Back to square one.
And I’ll use my time here productively. With a clean slate, trying my best to erase the last three and a half months.
After a few hours locked into my cell, I decide on a better plan. And it has nothing to do with getting even and everything to do with eradicating any lingering curiosity or attachment to my summer.
Sometimes the best revenge is piquing the curiosity of those that fucked you and moving on. I’ve learned well enough over the past few months that silence can be the best weapon. So, if Sean wants to be heard, my retribution for his betrayal will be to shut him out. Although he’s been doing all of the calling and texting, I swore I heard the distinct sound of a Camaro on the lone road when I walked the grounds of the garden this morning. But these men are bold, they’ve raided my home more than once unannounced, and if they want to get to me, they will.
Roman’s permanently moved to Charlotte. He’s no threat. If they want my attention so much, they know where to find me. And I have to be ready because odds are, if Sean’s calling and texting, and I continue to avoid them, they’ll be coming.
What could they possibly want or have to say?
If they regret it, why did they take so many pains in making such a show of it? And not just in front of locals, but other chapters of the hood.
I can’t afford to care. My head and heart can’t take it.
It’s over. Whatever it was, it’s over.
Spell broken or not, I attach to the burn and let it have its way with me.
Tomorrow is my first day back at the plant, and I have zero doubts I’ll have to face Sean. He’ll find a way to corner me, to get me alone. After hours in the silent house, and organizing my life to the point of insanity, I decide to take a drive to clear my head. Setting out down the long driveway, I listen carefully for the sound of a Camaro and decide it was the result of my overactive imagination, hating the notion it was more like wishful thinking. Quieting those thoughts with a spoonful of those agonizing seconds in their garage, I head out on the road. I breathe a little easier when I reach the end of it, and I ease into the three-way stop looking left and then right, my eyes landing on Dominic when he comes into view, waiting on the shoulder.
Fuck.
He watches me, intent from where he sits feet away. Snapping our connection, I spring into motion, gunning my car past him where he’s parked before hauling ass down the road. In seconds, he’s on my tail, my sedan no match for the lightning beneath his hood. Nerves firing, anger building, I steer through winding roads leading down the mountain towards town. He keeps his distance but remains close enough that I know he’s there and not giving up. I gas my car well above the speed limit, but he keeps the same amount of distance.
“Fuck you!” I roar as I race down the now-familiar roads, driving like a lunatic to evade my old spellbinding captor. Rage boils through me as I replay that night over and over in my head, making good headway toward town. Dom remains hot on my trail until I’m forced to slow at the first stoplight. I check my rearview and see he’s laid back, posture relaxed, the same smug expression on his face that was there the day I met him. I speed through one stoplight and then the next before crossing through to the opposite side of town. Sure he’ll eventually tire, I take him through twenty minutes of winding roads, but he stays right at my bumper.
Fed up with the charade, I skid to a stop at an abandoned camp parking lot, and he narrowly misses a tree, jerking the Camaro in after me, fishtailing and skidding to a stop on the asphalt. I’m already out of my car charging toward him, and he barely makes it out of the driver’s seat when I deliver the first slap.
He takes my hit, his body solid against his car and looks over me as if he’s breathing me in. Hand stinging, I swing again, and he blocks me. Livid, I drink him in as he drops his head, his face blanched red with the outline of my fingers. His hand closes around my wrist, restraining me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Fuck you. That all?”
“It had to happen.”
“No, it didn’t. Leave me the fuck alone. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“Cecelia—”
“Fuck you, Dominic. And your sick fucking games. I’m out. That’s my decision.” I
turn and try to jerk my arm away and he refuses, gripping me by the waist and yanks me back against his chest, his breath hot in my ear.
“You know we didn’t mean it.”
“I don’t know shit. But I’m done with you, with both of you.”
“I wish that was true.” Still gripping my wrist, he flips me around to face him. I move to slap him again and he clutches my other hand before pinning me to his car. “We had our reasons.”
“Did you? Good for you. Guess what? I don’t care.”
“You do fucking care. You belong to us.”
I snort. “Are you hearing yourself right now?”
“I told you to stay away, and now you’re in it. What happened that night doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe to you.”
“What happened before it does.”
“Let me go.” I try and rip myself away and his hold only tightens.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Then fucking stop it,” he snaps. “Stop.”
I still in his grip, eyes narrowing when his lips curl up in a smirk, pride shining in his eyes. “You’ve come a long way.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
He presses down on me so his body lines up with mine. I’m bent backward on his window, my head resting on the top of the car. His lips are so close and it’s all I can do to fight the pull, but my memories of that night make it easier.
“What in the hell is wrong with you?”
“You,” he darts his tongue out and licks along my bottom lip. My breath catches as he presses his length along my stomach. “You’re what’s wrong with everything and now…” he shakes his head, “you can’t come between us.”
“Oh, but I did come between you,” I snark. “Twice.”
“Fucking stop it,” he snaps. “I’m trying to explain.”
“With more cryptic bullshit, and I’m over it. You can talk to me when you have something real to say. Even then, I won’t listen. I’m done. Get. Off. Of. Me.”
He grips my head and slams his mouth over mine and I fight, I fight against his kiss, my mouth opening to object as he slips his tongue in. Sparks ignite in my chest as he deepens it to the point I can’t think past our night on the hood of his car, or the day at the lake or any other day of life before him. I rip at his hair, at his chest and neck as he brands me with his mouth, and the violent thrash of his tongue. My emotions go from anger to utter devastation as he pushes every feeling I’m fighting to the surface. He pulls away and presses a soft kiss to my mouth. “I’m sorry. That’s the only real thing I can give you.”
“Why?” I cry out, breathless. “Why?”
“We were trying to make a point, and we fucking failed miserably.”
“You ruined everything,” I’m unable to keep a lone tear from slipping. “I’ll never look at you the same.”
He tracks the tear sliding down my cheek. “I have to let you go for now,” he grimaces, and for the first time since that night we spent alone, his emotion shines through. “But I don’t fucking want to.”
He leans in again and presses a kiss to my forehead before releasing me.
The slash across my chest is enough to have me in full preservation mode. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
“I don’t have a choice. But everything I do now, it’s for you.”
“You’re right. You don’t have a choice. And make no mistake, it’s my decision.”
I stalk back toward my car and tear out of the parking lot, refusing to look back.
When I get home, I take a scalding shower but deny the raging in my chest. I let my tears blend with the water, but refute their existence—my decision.
HALFWAY THROUGH MY FIRST SHIFT back at the plant, I get summoned over the PA system. Pausing our line, I feel the full weight of Melinda’s attention. It’s been hours of working in silence, it seems even she couldn’t ignore my need for solace, and she let me retreat inside myself during this shift, which only further alludes to the fact I look as broken as I feel. I feign ignorance of why I’m being called off the line, but we both know better.
I’m done playing games. I march down the corridor of the first floor into the secluded office at the end of the hall batting away the memories it dredges up—stolen kisses, lingering looks over private lunches, a late shift quickie with his hand clamped over my mouth while he thrust into me, whispering filthy words in my ear. Closing the door, I lean against it and keep my gaze averted. Eyes cast down, his tan boots come into view, and I exhale just as the scent of cedar threatens to cloud my judgment.
“Baby, please look at me.” His voice is hoarse, dragging nails across the rawness in my chest. “Baby, please, please look at me.”
I don’t.
“Cecelia, you are the secret.” This confession demands my attention, and I finally look up. He looks destroyed, his complexion gaunt, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes. I’ve never seen him so distraught. Empathy wins the war with my silent tongue. I love this man, even if falling for him was a mistake.
“What in the hell is going on?”
He steps forward and captures my face in his hands. “We didn’t mean it. You have to know that.”
I shrink away from his touch, and he curses.
“I don’t know anything.”
“You know a lot more than you think you do. But the first thing you need to know was that it was a knee-jerk decision to bring you in the day we met, but I just fucking couldn’t… God, the moment I laid eyes on you—”
He leans in and I turn my head. “Why am I the secret?”
He expels a breath. His obvious hesitation has me bracing myself against the door.
“We didn’t mean it, Cecelia.”
“Just tell me why you brought me in here.”
“Okay.” He nods solemnly. “Okay. Years ago, when Horner Technologies was mainly a chemical plant, two immigrants from France, a husband and wife, died in a fire in one of the testing labs.” He holds my stare as the implication of what he’s saying dawns on me. I gape at him, tears threatening when I realize who those immigrants were.
“Dominic’s parents?”
He nods.
“They’d fled from France in an attempt to escape her ex-husband, and because they were so desperate, they accepted an invitation from an estranged relative to start a new life here.”
“Delphine.”
He nods and continues. “So they came here, to this town, to work in this plant thinking they would be safer, that here they would thrive, start living the American dream and all that entailed. Instead, they were exploited by this company and its owner because of their social disadvantage and eventually perished in a fire no one is sure was accidental. We still haven’t pieced together exactly what happened, but it was fucked up and reeked of foul play from the way it was handled afterward. Your father covered it up, swept it under the rug. He did the bare minimum for Dominic and offered nothing but a formal letterhead addressed apology included in the settlement summary. A slap in the face after the fact, especially with the CEO being a local. The local news didn’t even cover it, Cecelia. There was nothing in the papers, either.”
“But why?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Delphine was outraged, but she was young, and at the time too afraid to go head to head with Roman. Something happened that night, and he buried it. And we’re determined to find out what.”
This rattles me to my core. “You’re saying my dad may have covered up a murder, two murders, here, at this plant?”
“Not sure, but Dom’s parents weren’t the first to ever question your father’s business practices. Your father has been pulling a lot of shit for a very, very long time and getting away with it.”
“So, you’re spying on him? Working here to find out the truth?”
“More than that,” Sean says warily. He gives me a telling stare, and I try to read between the lines.
“You’re going to hurt him?”
“We’re
going to make him suffer. For everything he’s done and everything he took from Dom, and from every other family who’s worked for him since he opened this fucking plant. That’s why you need to stay away from us. You can’t be implicated in anything that goes down. It’s not safe.”
“What are you going to do?” He reads the budding fear in my eyes.
He shakes his head. “If we wanted him dead, he would be. That’s not who we are.”
“So, what’s to stop me from going to him right now and telling him everything?”
His shoulders bulge with tension. “Nothing. But there are other players in this, with a broader reach, and they know we have you.”
“Had me.”
“That’s what we were trying to convey, but when they saw us together, when they saw…”
“Saw what?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “That we fucked up and caught feelings, we had to end it, the way we did, to keep you out of it.”
“You’re telling me that was a performance?”
“To keep you safe. But now you’re on their radar. And I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.”
“So, wait. All of this started because of my dad? He owns a fucking technology manufacturing company. He makes calculators. Shady business practices do not make him a murderer.”
“He owns more than that. He owns Triple Falls and everyone in it, including the police. He’s run a monopoly on this city, and no one is willing to let him have it. Not anymore.”
“This isn’t happening. This…can’t be true.”
“I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry, but it is. The man you’re living with is hiding as many secrets as we are. And he’s damn good at keeping them and at keeping his nose clean.”
He presses me against the door. “I want you far, far a-fucking-way because your dad has a lot of enemies, aside from us, for the shady shit he’s pulled over the years. You aren’t safe here.”
“Sean—”
“I miss you so much,” he murmurs, gripping my face in his hands, his eyes roaming over me. “I fucked up, we both did, but you weren’t something we saw coming.”
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