Edges of Gone (The Gone Series Book 2)

by Jessica Gouin

  Usually, when Sawyer’s name comes up, I feel like someone sucker-punched me in the gut, but somehow this girl says her name as though it’s not tainted.

  “Chloe’s pretty great. She must be awesome to work for.”

  “She is! I love working at the café. I’ve been there for so long now it’s like my second home. I was literally just thinking I cannot believe I’ve worked so close to this shop for so long and I’ve never stepped foot inside here before. Chloe always spoke so highly of the both of you, and this place, but I guess seeing as how I still live with my parents, I don’t really do much decorating.” She snorts, and before I catch myself I’m laughing along with her. She reminds me so much of how I was as a teenager. Contagious bubbly spirits and full of energy.

  “Are you still in high school?”

  She runs her fingers over several artisan beaded necklaces hanging on a display rack next to the register. “No, I graduated a year ago. Freedom! Am I right? High school sucked. Just working as much as I can to save for college now. I’m hoping to enroll next fall, I should have enough saved up by then if I can talk Chloe into giving me a few more hours. Sometimes, the hours just aren’t enough, ya know? Hey, did you make these? They’re really pretty.”

  “Umm no, actually I didn’t. Some schoolgirls came in here a few months ago to sell cookies for a fundraiser. Sawyer noticed one of the girl’s bracelets and complimented her on it. I swear she saw a mini-her version in this girl. Anyway, the girls told us they made them, and Sawyer offered a business proposition. They can sell they’re jewelry here as long as they promise to give the proceeds to their school. They actually pull in a lot of sales.”

  Immy releases the jewelry, and the beads bounce off one another. “She did that for them?”

  A particular necklace catches my eye, one made of soft-gray and black beads. It’s a replica of the one Sawyer bought for herself. The little girl that made it saw Sawyer wearing it, and she made ten more just like it. That’s the last one we have left in stock. Sawyer wore hers the night of the wedding rehearsal. It rests in her jewelry box that Lachlan made sure I kept.

  “She did. Sawyer had a really big heart that she liked to keep hidden.”

  “I remember her, you know? Coming into Chloe’s all the time. She was a good tipper.”

  “We’ve definitely kept Chloe’s Café in business since we moved here.”

  “I’m really sorry about what happened to her.”

  I take a deep breath, letting my lungs fill. When I meet Immy’s eyes, I see sadness there, but I also see a loss. It’s hard to remember people outside of Owen, Lachlan, Noah, and I are affected by her death.

  “Thank you.”

  Immy grabs her purse and places the strap across her chest. “Well, I gotta jet. See you around, Sloane.”

  The thought strikes me, and I should’ve dismiss it as soon as it formed, I don’t know this girl at all. If she’s been working for Chloe for almost a year though, then she must have a good work ethic, and I really could use extra help around here. Before I can stop it, the offer tumbles out of my mouth. “I’m hiring another employee if you’re interested.”

  Her eyes widen, a smile expanding her face. “Really? An employee here?”

  “Yeah, I need someone to help run the front of the store so I can work in the back during the day. This way, you don’t have to worry about getting extra hours from Chloe’s. Maybe she and I can work out a schedule for you to make sure we don’t overlap. If you want to that is. It’s totally up to you, of course.”

  “Wow, yes, thank you. That’s so amazing of you to offer me a job. Chloe will be relieved ’cause I know she can’t really afford to pay me any more than she does. I’ll pop back over there and let her know. Should I just tell her you’ll call her?”

  “Of course, that’ll be fine.” I take a business card from the stack behind the counter and pass her one. “That’s my cell number in case you need to get a hold of me for anything.”

  “Oh gosh, thanks so much. Chloe always said you were super nice, and she was so right.”

  I laugh as a customer moves behind Immy, holding a spice rack I remade. “Tell Chloe I said thanks for the pick me up and I’ll call her tonight.”

  “I will for sure. Good-bye, Sloane!” Immy turns and all but bounces out of the door. Still chuckling, I greet the customer in line and ring up her total.

  The thought of having someone else in the shop, working with me, provides comfort. It’s super lonely here without my partner in crime, and not to mention that I’ll eventually need to hire someone else to help out so I can work in the back. Even if every day isn’t as busy as today has been, there’s no way I could run an entire business by myself. My mom offered, and she does have a lot of free time during the day since her retirement, but I don’t want to hinder our relationship by working together. Another employee right now is the smart move to make. No one could ever replace Sawyer, but I need a little bit of help, and I think I’m ready to admit it to myself.

  Immy seems real easygoing, and I know she’s loyal because she’s been with Chloe for so long even though she wasn’t making as much as she needed to. Comfort and loyalty are definitely two traits I’m looking for in an employee.

  I have a real good feeling about today.

  FOURTEEN

  Owen

  I have a bad feeling about today.

  I’m parked in my driveway, watching a realtor mosey around Sawyer’s property with a young couple just around my age. The woman has a very large, very round stomach, so I’m assuming they’re looking to buy a family-friendly home with great neighbors that will barbecue with them on the weekends while our kids run around the yards. Someone that could lend a cup of sugar or help jump start their car if the battery dies. Neighbors that help watch over each other’s home and collect the mail when they’re out of town.

  Unfortunately for them, they’re going to have to keep on looking. You won’t find any good neighbors here. All you’re going to find are two people with their marriage in shambles over the murder of a person whose home you’re traipsing through.

  Even if I have to rig the house Home Alone style to keep someone from buying it, I will. I’m not employed right now, and I have nothing better to do with my time than to fuck with someone else’s life.

  Opening the truck door, I hop down then close it loud enough for the realtor and potential homebuyers to notice. The three of them glance my way and offer friendly smiles that I don’t return.

  In the garage, I grab a beer from the fridge and a lawn chair that’s hanging, folded on the wall. Back outside, they’re still conversing in our shared driveway, so I unfold the chair in the middle of my lawn, sit down, open my beer and glare at them while I drink.

  It’s an awkward few minutes before they finally get my message and climb into their car to drive away.

  I don’t know how long I stay outside in the warm, cloudless day, but I do know I’m seven beers in when Sloane pulls her car into the driveway and parks behind my truck.

  She gets out, takes one look at me, and acknowledgment flashes in her green eyes. Silently, she moves to the back of the car. I walk toward her, taking her wrist to remove her hand from the trunk lid. Grabbing all of the grocery bags, I carry everything in one trip to the door and wait for her to open it. Silently, she turns the knob and pushes. After placing the bags on the kitchen floor, I return to my chair outside and remain there until I finish my beer.

  The sun has nearly set when I take the folded chair back to hang in the garage. The aroma of bacon carbonara fills the air inside the home, and I’m taken back to the first time Sloane and I were alone together.

  One afternoon, her senior year, Sloane had come over to see Sawyer while I tried to make dinner. And by trying, I mean I was burning the shit out of it. I always tried to make new dishes because Sawyer and I got real sick of eating cereal most nights. I’m the oldest, so cooking, along with a hundred other things, became my responsibility.

  The pasta
was overcooked and the sauce was burnt to the bottom of the pot. Sloane came in, and, instead of laughing like I would have expected her to do—not because she’s a mean girl, but because that’s what anyone else would have done—she chucked it in the garbage and started over from the beginning. Step by step, she patiently showed me the proper way to cook.

  When I asked where she learned to cook, she said her mom loves food and Sloane always liked to help in the kitchen so it became kind of a thing they did together.

  Appreciative her cooking skills saved my dinner, I invited her to stay and eat with me. It was the first time I thought of her as anything more than Sawyer’s friend. I wanted to get to know her better in this new and exciting way. I craved more alone time with her. Sawyer and Lachlan came home right before dinner and interrupted my plan. It didn’t take long for Sloane to start coming by the house when she knew Sawyer was out though, and I loved that I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

  Those were the first conversations we had away from my sister’s presence. It didn’t take long to disassociate her from being my little sister’s best friend and start looking at her as the sexy, smart, funny, gorgeous woman she was becoming. Sloane was younger than me, smarter in ways than I would ever be. Forbidden, because Sawyer would kick my ass for dating her friend, but goddammit I wanted Sloane. I wanted her with a passion so severe I was convinced she would be my ruin.

  When she came over one night, knowing Sawyer was at work, I knew I had my chance to make her mine.

  “Want to come in and wait for Sawyer to get home?”

  She surprised the hell out of me when she agreed.

  I made us popcorn and two drinks with a shot of vodka in each. I never drank, and I had the feeling she didn’t either, but liquor courage was needed sitting next to her. Conscious of every movement she made, I flicked through channels until she told me to stop on some lame, cheesy cheerleading movie.

  “Seriously, this?”

  She laughed and kicked my leg with her foot. “It’s my favorite movie of all time. I know every line.”

  I watched her mouth the words to every song and smiled to myself. When Sloane realized I was watching her more than the movie, she reddened.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s cute.”

  She made a face and tossed more popcorn into her pouty, irresistible mouth. “Gee, thanks. I’ve always wanted to be cute.”

  I shook my head, suddenly aware what my words meant to her and completely turned on she didn’t want to be just cute to me. And she wasn’t. She was so much more. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t think you’re cute, I think you’re beautiful, Sloane.”

  Her cheeks flamed brighter. “I’ll be right back.” She put her drink down and darted for the bathroom.

  I mentally kicked myself for saying something so stupid. When she returned, she sat next to me on the couch instead of back on the chair across from me. My heart nearly leaped from my chest.

  A few minutes trickled by, I tossed the rest of my drink back and set the glass on the table, edging closer to her. Her breathing hitched.

  Chasing the high she gave me, I placed my arm on the back of the couch and she surprised me by turning her back into my side, cocking her head slightly to rest on my shoulder. If she looked up, her mouth would be just inches from mine. Thinking about her mouth made me grow in size, and I mentally cussed for not being able to control myself. Sloane was driving me fucking insane.

  Then she whispered my name.

  “Yeah?” I answered in a hoarse voice.

  “Should I go?”

  “If you want to leave, I get it. But, I really wish you’d stay.”

  She looked up to me just then, and, like a magnet, I placed my hand on her cheek. I couldn’t stop the words from falling from my lips. “How have I not noticed you before?”

  “I’ve always wished you would.”

  Knowing she wanted me, too, was more than any man could handle. I leaned forward, closing the distance between us, and kissed her mouth.

  I meant to leave it at that, a simple taste of her until she opened that mouth for me. When I took the invitation, she lowered herself on the couch, taking me with her. I kissed her everywhere.

  She moaned my name, pulling me closer. The bulge in my pants was getting painful until she found my zipper. Her breathing spiked again, and she writhed beneath me as I slipped my hand under her skirt, pushing her damp panties aside.

  She wanted me.

  We clawed at one another like we couldn’t get enough. I slithered down her, desperate for a taste of something more. When she didn’t stop me, I held her panties to the side and moved my mouth over swollen skin, listening to her moans grow louder until she came undone.

  “Owen.” When my name passed her blissed-out lips, I knew I needed to marry her one day.

  With sudden determination, she removed the rest of my pants and laid back, ready for me to finally make her mine.

  I hesitated, silently asking her if she was sure this was okay. A shy smile told me yes.

  I slipped inside and watched her eyes roll into the back of her head.

  Falling in love with Sloane was the easiest and most natural thing that happened to me. We worried I was too old for her and her parents wouldn’t approve, but they did. We also worried Sawyer wouldn’t like the thought of her brother and best friend dating, but she didn’t care. She just wanted us to be happy. And we were. We were so happy together. We stood side by side, and whatever life threw at us, we handled together and came out the other side stronger and more in love.

  When we found out Sawyer planned to leave Woodsview, words weren’t even necessary. Sloane and I packed what little we had, drained our savings accounts, and left with her, determined to make life great. As long as we had each other, we had it all.

  Sometimes, couples go through something so tragic they either make it or they don’t. I thought the love we held for each other could conquer anything. Maybe this is too big, though. As hard as I try, I can’t see us falling back together like we always have.

  We need to find what we started all those years ago.

  I approach Sloane from behind and wrap my arms tightly around her waist. The wooden spoon drops from her hand into the pot in front of her.

  “Owen, you scared me.”

  Having her this close to me, I can only respond with a low moan in her ear.

  She grips the edges of the counter and drops her head back onto my shoulder as I lick and suck at the exposed skin on her neck. Her flesh rises under my touch.

  Her hands leave the counter to grip my thighs as I squeeze her swollen breasts, pinching her between my fingers.

  She sucks in a breath and spins around, mouth on mine. I palm her ass, lifting her off the floor, setting her on the table behind me. Grabbing a fist of hair, I tug until I have access to her neck again, nipping and sucking harder.

  “Owen,” she breathes my name, then pushes on my shoulders. “Not so rough.”

  Gently, she takes my cheeks in her hands and brings my mouth back to hers. Is she afraid of hurting me again? I might have to prove to her I’m not breakable.

  Yanking her off the table, I turn us in one movement and bend her over, bringing my lips to her ear. “I thought you liked it this way? Isn’t that what you want? For me to fuck you like I used to?”

  When she faces me, anger flashes across her face. “What has gotten into you?”

  Sloane shakes her head then leaves the kitchen. I catch her by her arm and push her up against the wall, pinning her in place with my hips.

  “Nothing has gotten into me. I just want to fuck my wife. What’s so wrong with that?” I grab her by her wrists and hold them against the wall.

  Her head tilts to the side, eyes flickering between mine, searching for something. “Let go of me. You’re drunk and I’m going to bed.” With more force than I thought possible, Sloane pushes on my chest, and I stumble backward. It could have more to do with the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed. />
  “I thought you wanted things to be like how they were? Don’t you remember when I banged you against this wall the first week we moved in? Or when I fucked you on the kitchen floor on my birthday?”

  She halts halfway up the stairs. “Yeah, Owen, I remember. I remember exactly how things used to be between me and you.”

  I hear laughter in echo. It bounces off the walls and boomerangs back into me. Coming from all around me, it encloses and chokes me. I stumble to the living room and collapse on the couch as the laughter shadows me.

  My eyelids become heavy, and my surroundings darken.

  Right before I slip away into a sleep, I realize the laughter is coming from me.

  FIFTEEN

  Sloane

  I’ve been avoiding Owen for a while, and it’s beginning to feel like I live with a stranger. No more than a dozen words have been spoken in a few weeks. He really hurt me—not physically, although not for lack of trying. The night he was rough with me, I was actually afraid of him for the first time in our relationship. The detachment in him scares me. The emotional pain he inflicted did more damage than any injury he could have given me.

  When I pulled the car into my driveway a few weeks ago and saw him surrounded by bottles, I knew I should have left right away, not even have gotten out. I wanted to make my husband his favorite dinner, though. To remind him of the good times we’ve had together. That we can still have together. We’re in the prime of our lives to make lifelong memories as man and wife and enough time has slipped away.

  I was naive to think bacon carbonara would solve our problems. It was stupid to think anything I do now would help Owen come to terms with his grief and guilt.

  My mom gave me the phone number to her therapist, and I’ve been staring at the ten digits on my cell phone screen for nearly a half an hour when Immy walks into Revamped for her fifth shift. Five days with her and I already feel like I know her better than I do my husband these days.