Into the Storm

by Susan Fanetti

  He couldn’t say out loud the doubts and guilt he had about Daisy. But he knew Isaac knew.

  Isaac put his hand on Show’s shoulder and squeezed. “Can I make an observation?”

  Show shrugged.

  “She lived in Tulsa twenty years, right? You think she had twenty years of smooth seas? Does anybody ever have that?”

  Show didn’t understand. “What’s your point?”

  “Maybe she runs from this. Maybe she’s not a runner. Maybe it’s this one thing. And if her daughter’s in town, seems like her days of running from her are at an end—close to it, anyway. Secret’s out. You know, after the fight you just told me about, and with her doppelganger in town, her secret is all the way out. She’s got to deal. Don’t see how she avoids that now.” Isaac jerked, as if he’d been struck by a powerful thought. “Unless…”

  The same thought bowled Show over. He thought of her desperation, the way she’d begged him not to leave. “Jesus fucking Christ. I gotta get back there.” He jumped off the stool.

  Isaac got up, too. “You need backup?”

  “No. No. I don’t—I’ll call if…if she did something.” She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. He ran to his bike and headed back to the B&B.

  ~oOo~

  He kicked up gravel pulling to a stop in the lot, then ran inside as fast as he could. He’d intended to head straight to Shannon’s apartment, but he pulled up short when he saw the girl—what was her name? He couldn’t remember—sitting on one of the sofas, her arms crossed over her chest and one leg crossed over the other, swinging. She was staring at the floor, looking upset. The day was warm, and she was wearing a kind of lacy white sweater thing, denim cutoff shorts, and battered brown cowboy boots, showing long, lithe legs. His first instinct was a concern bordering on the parental for the skin she was showing. That gave him some pause.

  He heard Shannon’s voice in the office, and his heart steadied its rhythm a little. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, or to whom she was speaking, but she was here and okay enough to be in her office, talking to somebody, and that was good. That was something. Where they went from here, he did not know.

  To the girl, Shannon’s daughter, he said, “Hey, missy. Y’okay?”

  She focused on him, and he could see that she recognized him from the previous afternoon. But she didn’t answer him. He nodded and headed for the office.

  He pulled up short again, in the little nook just outside the open office door, when he heard an unfamiliar male voice and realized that Shannon was arguing with this man. And by the sound of it, they weren’t in her office but in her apartment. That door must be open, too. Who would she have in her apartment? He took a step to go through the office door, but pulled up yet again, hearing the man say:

  “It was the right thing, Shan. You need to come back to Tulsa. You need to be home. This place? A crappy little bed and breakfast? It’s beneath you. These inbred hicks are beneath you.”

  Shannon’s voice was ragged and weak, but Show heard the bite of her anger. “I am these hicks, asshole. Tulsa’s not home. Tulsa was never home. This is home. You had no right to do what you did.”

  “I did it for you. I did it for us. This isn’t you. You’re not seeing straight. Maybe you got a little biker fever. But Shan, sweetheart. I know you. You’re Tiffany and Cartier. You’re Jimmy Choo and Dior. I can give you all that. You belong in my Mercedes, not hanging off the back of some damn Harley.”

  Show knew who it was. That trussed up asshole from last fall. The one who’d spent a weekend with Shannon and made her so sad the following week. Show’s hands coiled into fists, but he stayed put, listening.

  “God. Listen to yourself. You are not half the man that biker is. You couldn’t begin to be able to understand how much better he is than you.” She paused, and then, more quietly, she asked, “How do you even know about him, anyway? God. You’ve had me watched.”

  “I was making sure you were safe, that’s all. I love you. I know you don’t like me to say it, but I still do. I gave you your space, though, and waited for you to realize that you’re too big for this place. But then she came to me, and I knew what I had to do.”

  “You know why I didn’t want you to say it, Keith? Because I knew I could never love you. I never felt anything stronger than affection for you. My home isn’t with you. My home would never have been with you. Even if I had stayed. I love him. I love the biker. I love this town. I love this little inn. I love Show. I’m his old lady. And I’m not going anywhere. Even if all this has ruined what I have with him, I’d rather be here alone than in Tulsa with you.”

  “That’s not true. I know you love me.” There was a sharp edge now to the asshole’s voice that jangled Show’s nerves.

  “No. I don’t. I never did. I liked you. But that’s gone, too, as of now.”

  “You’re lying. You’re lying. Stop lying!”

  “Keith, no. Get ba—” The rest of the word cut off abruptly, and Show turned and stormed through the office door. With the apartment door standing open, he could see Shannon and Keith, near the breakfast bar. Keith had his hands around Shannon’s neck, and she was clawing at them, her face going purple. Roaring in outrage, Show leapt at him, grabbing him by his neck and yanking him back, pulling him free of Shannon and throwing him to the floor. He kicked the bastard hard in the side, then turned to Shannon as Keith writhed, gasping, on the floor.

  He took her face in his hands. She looked fucking terrible. “You okay?”

  Still gasping, she nodded.

  “Get some water, then sit down. I’ll be back.” He started to turn back to the bastard curled up on the floor at his feet, but, feeling a qualm, he asked Shannon, “Outsiders around other than them?” She shook her head.

  Good. He had trash to take out. He didn’t understand everything that was going on right now, but he understood that this son of a bitch had put hands on his old lady. He’d had about enough of that bullshit. He bent down and grabbed him by the collar and arm, dragging him to his feet.

  “Up you go, asshole. We’re taking this outside.”

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry!”

  “Too late.”

  Show dragged him through the office, the front room, and out the door. He wasn’t a little guy, maybe six feet, looked like he worked out, but Show knew the guy was no match for him, even in his still-compromised condition. If he hadn’t been choking the life out of Shannon, Show would probably have gone easy on him for the rest of it. But he had been. Not the first time that somebody had sought to do harm to somebody he loved, but it was the first time Show had been there and able to deal with it. And Keith was getting all of it.

  He pulled him down the porch steps and threw him onto the lawn. The guy kept his feet and turned around with his fists up. Show grinned.

  “Good. You can have the first go. Fuck, I’ll give you two.” He spread his arms wide. Keith pulled in as if he were going to jab…and then bolted for his car, a big black Mercedes Show hadn’t even noticed when he pulled up. Show had a long reach, and caught him by the collar as he tried to dodge past him.

  “No, man. You don’t get off easy. You hurt mine. You pay for that. You pay for it all.” He threw him to the ground, and then dropped down himself, straddling him.

  With the first punch of his be-ringed fist, he went into the zone, cognizant of nothing but the feel of wet flesh and softening bone against his knuckles. He didn’t even see Keith’s face. He heard nothing but the locomotive roar of eighteen months of unexpressed rage, of impotence finding its power.

  When he felt strong arms hooking under his arms, he tried to pull away, but thought no more about them. But then he was being pulled backwards, and the world surged back in. Shannon was screaming hoarsely. His hands were dripping wet and aching sharply. The man on the ground before him was unrecognizable. And it was Isaac who’d pulled him back. Isaac hadn’t even been there when he’d started.

  “Jesus Christ, Show! Jesus Christ! Badge—chec
k him for a pulse.”

  Then Badger was in Show’s field of vision, kneeling down at the side of the unconscious bastard. He turned to Isaac, looking distraught. “I can’t—I can’t find one! I don’t know if I’m doing it right!”

  Show shook Isaac off and crawled forward, finding the pulse point in Keith’s neck. “He’s alive. It’s strong. Here, Badge. Right here.” He grabbed the kid’s hand and put it on the pulse. “Got it?”

  Badger nodded, relieved. All three conscious men rose to their feet. Show then saw that both Shannon and her daughter were outside—Shannon standing a few feet away, her daughter on the porch, near the door. Shannon looked like she was about to break into about a thousand pieces. Show couldn’t discern much of an expression on the daughter. She met his eyes, then turned and went back inside.

  Isaac turned to Shannon. “I’m gonna use the inn van and take this guy to the clubhouse. I’ll call somebody to patch him up, then we’ll talk to him, smooth this shit over. Who is the guy? He somebody we need to worry extra about?”

  Shannon was staring at Show, her eyes wide. Show said, “Shannon, answer him.”

  With a mechanical stiffness, she turned to Isaac. “My ex. He’s—he’s an attorney in Tulsa.”

  “Fuck,” muttered Isaac. “What kind of attorney?”

  “Defense. Criminal defense.”

  Isaac laughed. “You’re shittin’ me. Well, then, probably not his first beating.” He nodded at Badge. “Come on, brother, let’s clean this up, then you hang around, keep an eye out, make sure everybody stays cool.” Looking at Show, he said, “You clean your shit up, too. Then get back to the clubhouse. We need to talk.”

  Show nodded. He didn’t otherwise move, not when Badger and Isaac hoisted a still-unconscious Keith and carried him to the truck, not when Isaac pulled away in the van, leaving his bike behind. Show stood on the lawn, eyes locked with Shannon, both of them frozen and silent, until the dust had long settled from Isaac’s departure along the wide, quartz gravel drive.

  She looked awful. Her hair was a snarled mess, her makeup smeared, mascara making smudgy tracks down her cheeks. She was wearing yesterday’s clothes, her top wrinkled and askew. She’d had a rough night. And a rough morning. Her neck was swelling and banded with red marks—fingers. Show might need to put some more hurt on that slick son of a bitch.

  Finally, she spoke. “You almost killed him.”

  “He hurt you. I told you that I’d protect you. I told you what I’d do.”

  “I’m not running, Show. I love you. Please…please believe me.”

  He nodded. “I do.” He didn’t think he had a choice. He loved her. He couldn’t leave her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Shannon couldn’t look away. Even that felt like too much distance from him, but she couldn’t move closer, either. She was stuck on the lawn, staring at Show, her head both spinning and entirely empty. She was exhausted.

  But he’d come back. He was here. He’d come for her, and he’d defended her. She glanced at his hands, where they hung at his sides.

  “Your hands are bleeding.”

  He lifted his hands and looked down at them, then gave them both a hard shake. Blood flew off in thick glops.

  “Most of it’s his. M’okay.” He reached into a back pocket and pulled out a blue bandana, so faded it was really grey. He wiped his hands and shoved it back where it came from, blood and all.

  Finally able to move, she took a step toward him. “Show…”

  “I gotta go, hon. That’s my mess they hauled away. Badger’s gonna keep track of the girl until we know more. But I gotta go.”

  She nodded. “You’ll come back?”

  He closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his blood-smeared hands. “Yeah. I’ll be back. We’ll talk. Right?”

  “Yes. We’ll talk.”

  He smiled, and something inside her eased. “You gonna be okay?” He nodded toward the inn. Her daughter was in there. And she was going to have to face her alone.

  “I have to be. I…I’ll figure it out.”

  He bent down and kissed her, a soft, slow kiss, lips brushing lips. “Be strong, hon. You’re strong. You made the best choice you could, right?”

  “Do you believe that?” She didn’t. But he nodded.

  “I do. You made the best choice you could, and you did it even though it hurt.” He kissed her forehead. “Now. Time to stop running from it.” He released her and turned toward his bike.

  “Show!” She could hear the strain in her voice, but she didn’t care. He stopped and turned back, waiting.

  “Do you love me?”

  He came straight back to her and grabbed her hips. “Shannon.” God, the sound of her name in his voice. God. It was the best sound. Even when he was angry, it got to her deep inside. He said it like he was naming her for himself. Claiming her. He bent again and kissed her, and this time, it wasn’t a gentle, slow pass of his lips. This time his mouth devoured hers. When he pulled away, they were both panting. Shannon felt unsteady. He brushed his thumb very lightly over her the abraded skin of her throat, then tipped her head to the side and pressed his lips to the same spot.

  When their eyes met again, he said, his voice so low it was only a rumble, “I love you. And I’ll be back later.” She nodded, and he went to his bike.

  She watched until he was out of sight. Her daughter was inside the inn. No question about that anymore. Keith had sent her here. Fucking Keith. Looking for a way to get her back to Tulsa. God, her life had changed so much, so many times over, in the past twenty hours, she couldn’t begin to sort it all out.

  Badger had been standing awkwardly in the lot, looking like he didn’t know where to go. When he moved, headed for the front porch, Shannon stirred from her thoughts and smiled at him. “Do me a favor, Badge. Hang out on the porch for a few minutes? I need to go in there on my own first.”

  Badger nodded. “I gotta stay close, but I can give you five. No sneaking out the back, though, please.”

  “Definitely not. Thanks.” She took a breath—her throat really hurt—and let it out. Then she climbed the porch steps, opened the door, and faced her past.

  Adrienne was standing inside. Waiting for her, maybe. Yes, she must have been, because she took a halting step forward and lifted her hand vaguely toward Shannon, then dropped it, looking down at the floor between them.

  Shannon closed the door. “Hi.” Her voice was hoarse and only half power.

  Adrienne looked up. She was pretty. She had her father’s curly hair—and Shannon’s father’s freckles. But now that it had been pointed out to her, she saw her own eyes, her own face, looking back at her. A younger, fresher version.

  “I’m really sorry about all this. I thought…he said…I wouldn’t have just jumped out at you like this. I would have called or something.”

  “It’s okay. And Keith’s going to be okay. I’m sorry you had to be witness to all that. Couldn’t have felt good.”

  “No.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “That great big guy—the one who did that. Is that…you two are together?”

  Shannon nodded. “Yes.”

  She looked confused. “Oh. Keith told me…it was all lies, I guess.” Meeting Shannon’s eyes, she said, “Look. I’ll go. I don’t want to cause you trouble. He told me you’d be glad.” She looked at Shannon’s throat. “I’m sorry he did that to you.”

  Shannon felt like she was breaking apart. Her past and her present and her future were looping around and around, folding back on and over each other, and she felt sick and scared. But this girl, her girl, was standing there, looking just as overwhelmed. Looking defeated.

  “I don’t want you to go. But I need to…wash off all this, what just happened. I need to calm down and take some time before we talk. Do you mind? Maybe an hour or two? And then we can go sit in the kitchen with some cake and coffee?”

  She smiled a little, and the dip in her chin deepened. God, she was hers. “Yeah. That’s okay.
Maybe I’ll drive around town a little.”

  “Actually, you kind of need to stay close for awhile. Or take Badger with you. Until everything gets squared away with Keith.”

  She looked confused. “Badger—that’s the guy on the porch?”

  “Yeah. He can follow you. Like a bodyguard. The guys want to us to be safe while they make sure there’s nothing else going on. Just a precaution.” Shannon knew that wasn’t fully true, but how else was she going to explain a biker shadow? She didn’t even quite understand it.

  But Adrienne took it in stride. “He can ride with me. I don’t mind.”

  That wasn’t a great idea. No one who was here this morning would add those details to the grapevine, but Adrienne driving around in that yellow Beetle—a Beetle!—with Badger riding along would get noticed. Now that Shannon saw the resemblance, she knew everybody else would, and tongues would be wagging. And Beth, Connie, and Steve had all been around for the fireworks with Show yesterday. All three would be talking. Gossip was Beth’s life force.

  “Sure, you could do that. But this is a very small town, and people talk like crazy. There are more outsiders around these days, but you kinda stand out. Just…so you know. If you care about that.”

  “Do you?”

  Shannon thought about all the wagging tongues when this girl first became a part of her history. How they’d cut and gouged. How low she’d felt, how dirty and selfish and broken. She hated gossip. She hated the way it shaped people’s lives, and never for the better. People said ignore it, but it was impossible to ignore. It affected everything, everyone. There was no way to control it. The only thing to do was live despite it.

  “No. I don’t. I just wanted you to know. I’ll tell him you want a tour. He’s a good kid. Then I’m going to head back, get a shower, take care of some things. Then we’ll talk, okay?”