by L. G. Davis
As soon as he’s swallowed by the throng of people, Thalia hurries to me.
“What did he say to you?” Her breath is coming in such quick gasps. She looks about to burst with curiosity. “You guys spoke for a while.”
“He asked for my number.” I shrug as though it’s no big deal. “I actually saw him in the hallway earlier, before his speech.”
“Your number?” Thalia places a hand on her heaving chest. “I hope you gave it to him. You did, right?”
“Of course, I didn’t give it to him, Thalia. And you know why.”
“No, actually I don’t know why.” She places a hand on one hip. “Stop using Ryan as an excuse not to live your life. You were just asked out by a drop dead gorgeous billionaire and you said no. Are you out of your mind?”
“Maybe I am.” The moment I say the words, the hairs at the nape of my neck bristle.
My gaze drifts past Thalia to the entrance of the hall, and blood drains from my cheeks, leaving them cold.
Ryan is wheeling himself through the entrance, people making way to let him pass. As soon as he enters the hall, he wheels himself to one side and just stares at me. I would’ve been happy he came after all, but the look on his face tells me something is wrong.
When his gaze shifts from me to Dylan, I get it. Ryan must have been here for a while. He must have seen me talking to Dylan.
Thalia touches my shoulder. “Hey, what’s up? You’ve gone all quiet. Are you okay?”
“I have no idea what okay means anymore.”
Chapter 10
A storm rages in Ryan’s eyes when I approach him.
“Hey, you came.”
He turns his face away and won’t say a word to me.
The caring sister that I am, I leave to get him something to eat—a ham and tomato sandwich and a cold Coke. To my horror, he swings back his hand and brings it crashing against mine, the one that holds the Coke. The can drops to the floor with a bang and explodes, sending foam and dark liquid flying in all directions.
If we weren’t in public, I would’ve smacked him.
Tears clogging my throat, I avoid the looks of both pity and disdain coming from all directions as Thalia helps me clean up the sticky liquid.
My gaze sweeps the hall for Dylan Baxter. I hope he didn’t see what happened.
Thalia leans into me and whispers that she saw him and Margaret exit the hall a few seconds before Ryan lashed out.
After the cleanup, I leave Ryan sitting there and get back to my stand to finish selling the cupcakes. My shoulders are stiff with tension, pain flaring between my shoulder blades, but I’m determined to do my job.
It hurts like hell that he made the effort to come all this way only to embarrass me in front of everyone. My instinct urges me to pack up my things, to get out of here. Since it’s exactly what Ryan wants, I do the opposite. He doesn’t leave, just sits there by the door, eyes on me.
Thankfully, Dylan doesn’t show up again at my stand as he had said he would. Maybe he figured I might not be worth the effort. I’m sure he has enough ladies vying for his attention—women with no baggage.
Once the event is over, Margaret thanks us for coming, announces the amount collected, and wishes us a nice evening.
Ignoring Ryan, I walk past him to take my things to my car. His presence is suffocating as he follows me outside. Saying nothing to me, he wheels himself to his van and enters with the help of the automatic ramp. He drives off without a backward glance.
When I arrive at the apartment, his van is already parked outside. As I enter our home, every bone in my body warns me this evening will not be pretty, that we’ve reached the point of no return.
Even though I dread the ugly conversation we’ll have, I remember the words my inner voice whispered to me yesterday, that I have the power to change things. Continuing to show Ryan my weakness only strengthens him to the point he might do worse things.
What if he becomes a danger both to me and himself? It has to end. I need to breathe again, and he doesn’t let me do that. He’s determined to suffocate me under the blanket of guilt that hovers over me. If I choose to look the other way today, I don’t think I’ll ever find the strength to try again.
I find him in the entrance area next to the coat rack. He doesn’t give me a moment to breathe before turning on me. “Who was the man you were talking to?” His sharp voice stabs the air in the room.
“I talk to a lot of men, Ryan.” I walk past him to the kitchen to pack away the groceries I picked up on the way home. I need to think about what to say to him, but he follows me. Instead of lifting the milk, dishwashing liquid, and sugar from the grocery bag, I stand with my back to him and jump right into the conversation that I know will change everything. “It’s none of your business who I talk to. But if you really must know, the man I was talking to was Isaac Baxter’s son.”
“Why did he talk to you as though he knows you?”
“Why he was kind to me, you mean?” When I find the courage to face him, I’m numb with rage, my breath hot inside my throat. “It must have been a shock for you to see that not everyone treats me like crap the way you do!”
His gaze doesn’t flicker. “I wish they would. You deserve to be treated like the piece of crap you are.”
I take a few steps closer to him and lower myself to his level. Someone has shown me kindness today and all my brother can say is I deserve to be treated badly? Instead of making me feel small, his statement only fuels the fire inside me. “You no longer scare me,” I whisper. “I’m no longer going to put my life on hold just so you can feel good about yourself. I don’t care if you hate me. I refuse to hate myself. Whether you like it or not, there are people out there who care about me. If I want to talk to any man, I will. If I want to date someone, you can’t stop me. I’m no longer your prisoner.”
“Are you sure about that?” A greasy lock of hair sweeps his forehead when he dips his head to the side. “Have you forgotten what happens when you betray me?”
“Of course not.” I wrap my fear in a blanket of fury. “How could I, when you went above and beyond to scare me?”
“As I said before, that was nothing.” He runs the palms of his hands on his thighs. “I warned you before and I’m warning you now. Betray me again and you’ll find out what I’m capable of.” The spittle foaming at the corners of his mouth makes my stomach roll.
“Well, looks like you better get started on coming up with something even worse. Give it your best shot.” I move back to the kitchen counter. “Do whatever you want, Ryan. I don’t give a damn anymore.” My ears pound as fireworks go off inside my head. “I’ve done everything I could for you. If you don’t want to live your own life, that’s your business. But I’ll no longer let you put mine on hold.” I pause for effect. “I’m done apologizing for that night, even when I’m not the only one responsible for what happened. What happened to you was just a ripple effect of your poor decisions. I won’t play your games anymore.” I pull the carton of milk from the grocery bag and yank the fridge open. “What you did today, embarrassing me at my place of work, was the last straw. That’s the job that puts food on the table, the job that pays the bills … your medical bills. The fact that you don’t see that is disturbing. So, I’m done trying with you. I did enough, don’t you think?”
“That sounds like a threat,” he croaks. “Are you threatening to throw me out?”
“No.” I turn on him. “I’m not that cruel. You’re still my brother even when you don’t act like it. You can stay here, but from today, your stupid rules no longer apply. From this moment on, I make the rules. I will go to work in the morning and I will return home at a time that pleases me. If I come home late, you will not ask me who I was with because it’s frankly none of your business. If I cook something, you either eat it or you fast. It’s your stomach and you can treat it any way you like. And if you’re not interested in physical therapy, please tell me so. I’d be happy to have something less to pay for.”
I whirl around in time to see Ryan reversing. Before I can digest what he’s doing, he barrels into me again.
Pain explodes in my shin when the bone connects with the metal of his wheelchair. I jump away before he can hurt me again, limp out of the kitchen and out the front door.
As the front door crashes against the frame, my brother’s guttural roar of anger and frustration breaks through the walls and echoes in the hallway. Despite the throb of pain in my leg, a heady rush of victory spurts through my entire body. It’s done. I’ve finally touched a nerve. Every fiber of my being tells me I’m free. I feel so good I don’t even feel the pain in my leg.
Chapter 11
My hands tighten around the steering wheel. I’m both excited and terrified about what just happened.
There’s a high possibility it could all blow up in my face, that I could end up regretting yet another decision I’ve made concerning Ryan.
The urge to get out of the car and get back into the apartment to apologize to him burns through my body, but I can’t do that. I’ve done everything I could for him. It’s time he starts treating me with respect. It’s time I treat myself with respect, as well.
I rest my head on the steering wheel, feeling the sweat between the leather and my skin. Then I take a deep breath, raise my head, and lean it against the headrest. Time to move forward, to be strong for both Ryan and me. The longer I baby him, the longer we both remain stuck and unhappy.
I turn the key in the ignition, and the car grunts to life, its energy vibrating right through my body, giving me the strength I need to move forward. As the car moves, so do I, pulling away from my troubles.
I drive back to the grocery store. For a few minutes, I sit and stare at the large building with its floor-to-ceiling windows. I watch people going in and coming out, some accompanied by friends and family, others alone. Happy people laughing and talking, living their lives.
I get out of the car and a gust of wind whips my hair from one side of my shoulders to my back. I face in the direction it’s coming from and close my eyes, allow it to soothe me, to dry the sheen of sweat on my skin.
Inside the air-conditioned store, I limp down the aisles, headed for the snacks aisle. I grab two bags of salt and vinegar potato chips and a box of chocolate chip cookies.
Before leaving the aisle, I grab more snacks and head to the cash register.
An old lady with only one item—a bottle of sparkling water—taps my shoulder and asks if she can go first. I let her. I’m in no hurry to get anywhere.
Five minutes later, I’m in my car with the radio blasting, on my way to the edge of town where Thalia lives in a quaint little cottage she inherited from her grandfather, six years ago.
My phone rings. The number is unrecognizable.
Conditioned to react with fear each time the phone rings, anxiety spurts through me.
What if it’s someone calling to tell me something happened to Ryan? What if it’s the hospital or the police? What if he burned down the apartment? All kinds of thoughts scramble for space inside my brain. Should I ignore the call or pick up? What if he’s testing me?
I decide to answer, but I’m ready to put him in his place if he resorts to his manipulation tactics again. I turn on the speaker.
“Hello?”
“Is this Paige Wilson?”
The voice sounds both familiar and foreign at the same time.
“Yes, this is Paige.” My breath quickens. “Can I help you?”
“Paige, hi. This is Dylan Baxter. We met at—”
“Dylan.” My shoulders slump with relief. “Hi.” I shake my head. “How did you get my number? And how do you know my name?”
“In a town of barely eleven thousand residents, it’s pretty easy to get information.”
“And you’re a powerful man who gets what he wants, am I right?” Without meaning to, I find myself laughing. “So, Dylan, why are you calling?” My heart flutters inside my chest like a bird trapped inside a cage.
“I still want to take you out for that drink … or dinner. Whatever you’d like.”
The fact that he has gone to the trouble to get in touch with me must mean he really likes me, but I have no idea how to feel about that. It’s been a while since I dated anyone. In fact, I haven’t dated since Ryan’s accident. Ryan made sure of it.
I nibble on a corner of my lip. “Look, Dylan. Right now, my answer is no. I can’t tell you if it will be different tomorrow, but at the moment I can’t have a drink with you. I’m sorry.”
“Then it helps that I happen to be a very patient man.” He pauses. “And you were right. I usually get what I want. Believe me, Paige Wilson, sooner or later, I’ll have that coffee with you.”
I stifle a smile. “I told you I don’t drink coffee.”
“Dinner, then.”
“I guess we’ll have to see about that.” I turn onto another street, into a more affluent part of town with expensive, pastel-colored cottages on one side and the beach on the other. Some of the cottage owners are walking their dogs under the trees lining the road, soaking up the last of the day’s sun.
“I’ll give you a call again tomorrow,” he says. “Let’s hope you’ve changed your mind by then.”
“I can’t guarantee it.” My smile widens as I enter Thalia’s street.
“We’ll see. Goodbye for now, Paige Wilson.”
By the time we hang up, I’m in front of Thalia’s cottage. A cute, whitewashed house with powder blue shutters and a small well-tended garden. Thalia loves gardening and it’s evident in the health and beauty of the lush leaves and blooms around her home.
A pebble mosaic garden path—created by Thalia herself—cuts through it to a front door the same color as the shutters.
The door flies open before I get to it.
She stands at the top of her front steps, hands on her hips. “What a wonderful surprise. Please tell I’m not dreaming. Is that really Paige Wilson?” She runs down the path to meet me, engulfing me in a hug of soothing coconut.
The contact with someone who cares for me brings me to tears. I clamp my lips to control the tortured sobs, but they tear right through me.
Thalia pulls back and searches my face. “Did something happen?”
I smile behind my tears. My hands grip hers. “Yes. Something huge. I—”
“Come on, tell me everything inside. We don’t want to give the neighbors something to talk about.” She links her arm with mine.
When I enter the cottage, I notice she’d done a little renovating since the last time I was at her place. The walls are painted in a soft peach, and her grandfather’s old furniture has been replaced by vintage pieces. Thalia loves all things vintage. Still holding my arm, she takes me out onto the terrace that overlooks the sea.
“I’ll get you a drink.” She disappears back into the house and I lower myself into one of the white porch swings, listening to the sounds of crashing waves. The sea breeze is still warm and I love the way it strokes my face, drying the tears.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” Thalia says when she returns, a silver tray in her hands. “I don’t remember the last time you came over.”
“And it’s all my fault. I’m sorry.” I accept the iced tea she hands me, my fingers curling around the cold glass. I raise it to my lips and take a sip. The thin lemon slice taps my upper lip.
Thalia prides herself on making the best homemade iced tea in Corlake, and I agree. I take my time to savor the gentle sweetness on my tongue.
She sits next to me with her own glass, twisting her body to face me. “Okay, talk to me.”
“I did it. I stood up to Ryan once and for all.” I lower my glass to my thigh. “I just snapped.”
“What did you say to him?” A frown to
uches her brow. “I hope you gave him a piece of your mind. What he did to you today is unforgivable.”
“I did. He went too far this time. I couldn’t overlook it.” I take another sip. “I didn’t have any more space to move under his thumb. So I squirmed out.”
“About time. How did he take it?” Thalia turns to face the ocean while twirling one of her thin braids around her finger.
“I told him I’ve had enough. This time I meant it. I have a feeling he felt it, too.” While I finish my iced tea, I replay to Thalia exactly what happened, ending with how he crashed into me with his wheelchair.
“Oh my God.” She glances at my legs in horror.
“Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. It was painful in the moment, but not anymore.”
“Do you think he’s dangerous, Paige?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. What can I say? He’s my brother.”
“Paige, are you sure about that? That he’s not dangerous? He did some pretty disturbing things over the past two years.”
“I know.” I lift my shoulders in a half shrug. “But there’s no way I’m going to throw him out. If it weren’t for his drinking, he’d be perfectly capable of living on his own. But I can’t turn my back on him … not in that way.”
“You’re a better person than I could ever be.” Thalia pulls her feet up onto the swing. “You know I admire you for your loyalty to your brother, but please keep your eyes open. You have no idea how he’ll react to you standing up for yourself. Crashing into you is pretty bad to me.”
I nod and decide to change the subject. “Guess who called me on the way here.”
“Ryan?”
“Nope.” I can’t help smiling. “Dylan Baxter.”
“Nooo.” Thalia turns to me with wide, brown eyes. “How did he get your number?”
“He said this is a small town. My guess is he got it from Margaret.”
“Well,” Thalia puts down her glass and leans toward me. “What did he say?”