Secret Love

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Secret Love Page 8

by Natalie Ann


  After a few more breaths, she went about the routine she had each morning. Pushing everything else from her mind.

  By the time Sam and Nicole were in and working, Piper started to clean up the counters, moving to orders and gathering any trash.

  She swung the back door open with her hip, the bag in front of her like a toddler carrying Santa’s loot on wobbly feet.

  After she tossed the massive overfilled bag over her head into the dumpster, she turned to leave when bright red letters on the black bin caught her eye, making her think of the eyes of the wolf staring at her all the time. Only this time they were red, like in a horror movie. In the dark, just waiting to pounce when she was weak and vulnerable.

  Whore

  She just stood there staring at it. She’d never been vandalized before. Never had any problems at all in the two years she’d had her bakery.

  When she went to wipe it off, she realized it wasn’t going to be removed very easily.

  Worse yet, it was dripping, like blood from an open wound. That was what she saw when she looked at it, and it was what made her skin tingle and her hair stand on end. She swung her head around looking for something. Anything. But there was nothing. No one that she could see. Just cars in the parking lot between the buildings in the back.

  Her eyes filled as she ran down the alley to the front of the shop, but again, nothing. No signs of anything other than that word like a bright beacon calling anyone forward that saw it.

  Had it been there when she ran to the back door this morning? Did she catch someone in the act and didn’t know? It was so dark and she just ran for the door to get safe inside, not looking around her. She’d never know now.

  As she entered the store by the front door, Sam came rushing forward. “What is it, Piper? What happened?”

  There was no stopping the tears from falling down her cheeks. Something didn’t feel right and she wasn’t sure what or why. What had she done for this to happen?

  Piper shook her head and walked to the kitchen trying to get herself under control. A few minutes later, Sam came back. “Nicole is covering the front. We’re both worried. What is going on?”

  Piper grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled her out back into the alley and showed her. “Oh,” Sam said. “It’s probably just some kids fooling around. Don’t let it get to you.”

  “Why me, though? Nothing else was marked. Just my dumpster. And why that word?”

  “Because kids will be kids and think it’s funny. You remember those days, right?”

  “I’d never destroy anyone’s property. You know that. You know why. You know what it’s like,” Piper said.

  “I do. I’m with you on that. But not everyone had our life. Why don’t you call the police? Just report it.”

  “What are they going to do?” Piper said, sniffling.

  “Probably nothing. But maybe it’s happening all over the city and other people are thinking like you. Someone has to take that first step and report it, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  Two hours later, the police left after doing no more than pacifying her. She knew it and there wasn’t much she could do. But they were thankful she gave them each some goodies to take home as a thanks.

  She’d told them about the noise she heard in the parking lot this morning and how she ran to the back door, but they told her it was probably an animal knocking something down. She thought of Smokey, and couldn’t dispute it. She wasn’t in the mood to be told she was making it up. She’d been told that enough in her life.

  “What did they say?” Sam asked.

  “Not much. No one else has reported anything. They asked if there was anything else going on in my life. I said no.”

  She would have loved to tell them how she periodically felt like she was being watched, but she had no proof of anything. They brushed this morning off and they’d brush off her saying someone was following her too. She knew it. Why bother bringing it up?

  Sam ran her hand over Piper’s. “It’ll be fine. Why don’t you finish up and go home? Have some dinner with your new beau. Let him relax you a bit.”

  Piper giggled, glad Sam was taking her mind off of it. She didn’t think Vin would appreciate being called her beau, but it was a nice thought.

  She’d told Sam this morning when she came in about her and Vin. Caught her up to date, because she felt like sharing. Then she told Nicole, and the three of them did what women do and laughed and giggled. It seemed like so long ago she was happy and laughing over her and Vin, and now she just wanted to go home and cry into a bowl of ice cream.

  Sometimes life just threw you a curve ball and you had to learn to duck, or catch it and chuck it back. She’d never been good at catching anything in her life.

  Beau

  When Piper was done for the day, she went home, showered, and changed. Vin’s car wasn’t in the parking lot when she’d pulled in earlier, but now it was when she walked out onto her little terrace.

  She should leave him alone. Give him some peace…and maybe some space. But she couldn’t, because she needed something that it seemed only he could provide.

  Was Sam right? Was Vin her new beau? She’d never had one before to know the difference between casual, friends, boyfriend, or beau. Was there a difference?

  Tired of second-guessing herself, she walked over and knocked on his door. He opened it up pretty fast, almost like he was waiting for her…she hoped.

  “Hey,” he said, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. She wasn’t expecting that greeting and found it cheered her up immediately. Definitely beau material.

  “Am I bothering you?” she asked.

  “No. Just got back from work. Trying to figure out what I want for dinner. What about you?”

  “I haven’t even thought of dinner.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at her. She didn’t want to think she was so easy to read, but she knew that she was.

  “Just had a bad day.”

  “Burn some cookies? Someone not like a purple muffin? Or maybe a blue one?”

  She laughed. She didn’t expect him to have such a good personality. To be funny. It didn’t seem to her this was the same guy who avoided everyone in the building weeks ago. Well, maybe he still was avoiding everyone else, but he wasn’t avoiding her and that was all she cared about.

  “No. Never that. I can’t tell you the last time I burned anything.”

  “What about someone not liking one of your funky creations?”

  “That happens, but most are too polite to say anything.”

  She walked by him and sat in his kitchen, making herself at home. He walked up and tugged on her hair. “Tell me what’s wrong. Your normal glow is missing right now.”

  Her eyes started to fill; there was no stopping it. She hated to be weak, but she always was. There were things in her life that hit her hard. So many times she fought to be this tough girl just shuffled around, but when something hit her where it hurt the most, there was no stopping it. Thankfully, very few knew what affected her the hardest.

  She guessed it wouldn’t hurt to tell Vin a little bit about the day. It’s not like it was a secret, and she wasn’t doing that good of a job of covering up her emotions right now.

  “Someone vandalized my dumpster.”

  He frowned. “How?”

  “They spray-painted a word on it.”

  “That’s it? Nothing to your shop?”

  “No. Just the dumpster. I didn’t want to call the police, but Sam convinced me to. Said that maybe kids are doing it around town and if no one reports it, then they’d just continue.”

  “She’s right. What did the police say?” He turned away from her and grabbed them both a bottle of water from his fridge, then set it down in front of her.

  “Thanks,” she said, opening it and taking a drink, hoping to cool the burning in her throat. “They said no one else has reported anything. I talked to a few other store owners in the area, and they said nothing unusual has been g
oing on.”

  “What was the word?” he asked. “It doesn’t seem to me you should be this upset over it.”

  She gulped, then whispered, “Whore.”

  His face turned red. “What?”

  “You heard me. Don’t make me repeat it. It was in red and the paint was dripping like blood. It just freaked me out. I’m not like that. I swear I’m not. I don’t know why someone would say that. I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. Even then, I didn’t really date. It was just something casual with a friend, but he moved and that was it. Nothing more. Please don’t think that of me.”

  She was crying harder now. She didn’t want Vin to think anything bad of her. To think what Karl did of all girls that were in his house.

  Vin could think she was weak if he wanted to, but not that she was a whore or a slut or got around. Not that she was this loose and trashy person that people often thought of with foster kids. That she wasn’t worthy of anything good in life. Like if you didn’t have a stable home, you found comfort in anyone’s hands you could.

  That wasn’t her. That had never been her and never would be. She’d fought back once and she’d do it again.

  He pulled her into his arms. “I don’t think that at all, Piper. It never even crossed my mind.”

  “I know you don’t know me that well, but I wanted you to know. I didn’t have the best of childhoods, but I’m a good person. I’m not like what most people think.”

  “I’ve never thought anything other than you were a little out there. A little too peppy and cheerful, even whacky from time to time.”

  She smiled. It was what she needed to hear from him. “Those things are true.”

  “Then that is all that matters.” He held her tight and she let him.

  ***

  Vin didn’t like what he was hearing. Between the few times he’d witnessed her reaction to being watched—which meant it happened more often than she was letting on—to that being spray-painted on the dumpster. If it were any other word, he might shrug it off. But that was personal. Added with everything else, something was going on.

  He didn’t want to alarm her at all, but he wanted her to be aware. Right now wasn’t the time for that conversation, but he’d have to have it with her soon. Maybe even in a few hours.

  “Will you take me to your room?” she asked, lifting her head up.

  He saw her brown eyes fill with tears, felt the tug in his heart that he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before, then picked her up and brought her to his room, kicking the door shut behind him.

  The boring life he was hoping to have when he’d moved here was turning out to be anything but.

  She was adding excitement to his ever-dull existence. But she was also pulling him into something else. The need to protect her. The need to find out what was going on.

  The need for redemption.

  It was all there and it was a driving force right now.

  He’d have to hold off on those thoughts, because the most prevalent one at the moment was giving her comfort.

  He set her down and then started to undress her slowly, placing gentle kisses on every part of her body that he bared. She stood there and let him and he felt powerful. More powerful than he thought he’d ever want to feel in life again.

  She reached out and undressed him, did the same to him too, gentle kisses and soft caresses all over his body. He’d thought for sure he’d pushed all soft thoughts out of his mind, but found he’d never be able to do that. That he was craving it.

  That he was craving her.

  He reached over to pull the comforter back, and she lifted the pillow to move it, uncovering his gun then shrieking.

  Shit. He’d forgotten about that. Forgotten that as much as he was putting that life behind him, there were habits he couldn’t break. Things he couldn’t forget. Nightmares that wouldn’t go away.

  “Why is there a gun under your pillow?” she asked, taking a step back and trying to cover herself. Chills on her body, he could see.

  He grabbed the gun and put it in the drawer, then pulled her in and ran his hands up and down her body. Soothing her, and maybe himself. Warming them up and kissing her hard. Trying to distract her, trying to get her mind off it. And maybe his own.

  She fell into what he was doing. She gave herself over to him just like he’d hoped.

  Urging her on the bed, he covered her body with his, the warmth and the sweetness of her just drawing him into a place he was dying to be. A place he never thought of before. One that didn’t have guns or nightmares, tears or screaming, nasty words or death.

  A place that just the two of them held membership cards to.

  “Make me forget, Vin,” she said softly. “Make me just think of you.”

  He wanted to forget too. He just wanted to think of her. He just wanted it to be about them.

  He reached back into that drawer and grabbed a condom, then slid over her body. He kissed her softly, then deeply, and slid right in her seamlessly.

  Locking her hands above her head, holding her in place, he set a pace she welcomed and encouraged, the two of them dancing to a song in their heads. Bringing each other comfort and maybe even peace.

  Seem Meaningless

  “Can you tell me now why there is a gun under your pillow?” Piper asked.

  He was hoping she would have dismissed that little fact, but should have known better. He always knew she was nosy and he should have guessed she’d never let something like this drop.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it does,” she said, leaning up on her elbow. He’d been hoping that since they were both trying to get their breath—and maybe their thoughts—back, she’d forget about it. Guess not.

  “Security,” he said.

  “This building is safe,” she said, angling her head. “Do you mean mental security? Or is someone after you? From when you were in the army? You never talk about that part of your life.”

  And he didn’t want to now either, but found himself answering just the same. “Yes, to the mental. No, to someone being after me.”

  She ran her hand around his chest, but he put his on top of it and stopped her. “Talk to me,” she said.

  He didn’t want to, but maybe he should. Maybe it’d help him a little too, but he was keeping it simple. “I enlisted in the army after college. Went in as an officer. Worked my way up fast to a commander.”

  “What did you go to school for?”

  “Criminal justice,” he said.

  “Why did you leave?” she asked.

  “Because it wasn’t for me anymore,” he said quickly.

  “There is more to it than that,” she pushed, her hand moving over the scars on his body. “Does it have to do with all of these?”

  “Yeah,” he said, flinging the covers back and standing up, pulling some clothes on.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about it,” she said, getting up and grabbing her own clothes. “I can see it on your face. But sometimes you need to. I’ve told you a lot of embarrassing things about my life.”

  “This isn’t embarrassing,” he said, his voice harder than he wanted it to be.

  She flinched as if she were burned. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I know. Look,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. The summary is…all these scars on my body are the results of a suicide bomber. A child suicide bomber. And I lost a man when it happened. A wide-eyed newbie I should have protected. Those were the only two deaths. But they’re on me. That’s for me to live with. That’s for me to come to terms with.”

  He walked away from her and out of the room, over to where he kept his liquor. It was more than he’d planned on saying, but he knew she’d have questions.

  ***

  Piper stared at the retreating back of Vin, her jaw open, her heart pounding.

  Deep down, she’d thought something serious might have happened to him. That something caused him to be the way he was.

&nbs
p; She just didn’t think that something would be what he said.

  It made her little vandalism seem meaningless. All her little problems seem small.

  She walked out and saw him sitting in a chair with a whiskey glass in his hand.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He turned his head to look at her. “What for?”

  “For pushing you to talk about something you obviously don’t want to.”

  He drained his glass and set it down. “You see. That’s the problem. I don’t want to, but yet I did anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “Beats me. Come here,” he said holding his hand out. She walked over and ended up in his lap, his strong arms holding her tight. “You do something to me.”

  She wanted to ask more, but didn’t. It didn’t seem to be the time or the place for it. Instead, she rested her head against his chest. “I guess I could say the same.”

  They sat like that in silence for a minute until the growling of her stomach broke through.

  “Do you want to get some dinner?” he asked.

  “How about I make us something instead? I’m not in the mood to go out. I’m not sure you are either.”

  “Not really, but I don’t have a lot in the way of food right now.”

  “I’ve got some veggies and a steak I could slice up thin, and do a stir fry over rice. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds better than if I’d grabbed a sandwich like I normally do.”

  She reluctantly climbed off his lap, missing the feeling of his warm body against hers, the comfort they seemed to provide to each other, then pulled him up and to her place.

  He was sitting in her kitchen while she was bent over pulling everything out of the fridge when he said, “Your roses are dying.”

  She turned and smiled at him. “Yeah, I tried to save them, but they weren’t properly wrapped when you left them on my doorstep. They should have had little glass vials on the stems to keep them hydrated.”

  “I didn’t leave you these.”

  “What? Sure you did,” she said, frowning. “Yesterday morning when I opened my door to come to your place, they were on my doorstep. I thought it was you that left them.”

 

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