by Heather Lyn
Lindsey reaches out and hugs Nacole, who seems surprised and only pats her on the back.
Huh. Weird. She just seemed to clam up right before our eyes.
Brody and Linds say their goodbyes and head out, leaving me alone with Nacole in her bedroom. She was clearly in the middle of unpacking a few boxes sitting on her bed, and I’m unsure of what to do. I want to stay and spend more time with her, but I also don’t want to make her uncomfortable. She’s so timid and shy with me; I don’t want to scare her or push her away before I even get a chance to make friends with her.
“I’m gonna get going too. Unless you need any help unpacking or anything.”
“No, thank you, Garret. I really don’t have much, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Of course.”
Standing on opposite sides of the room, we just look at each other, her brown eyes dancing around, avoiding any direct contact with mine. Nodding, I hold a hand up in a wave and smile at her.
“It was great meeting you. I’ll see you around, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you for today.”
“Anytime, Nacole.”
Turning, I walk out of the room and make my way out of the house. I’m climbing into my Jeep when I see the flowers I brought. Shit. Would probably help if I gave her the welcome present. Grabbing them, I head back toward her house and knock quietly on the front door, but she doesn’t answer. Weird.
Pushing the door open, I decide to just leave them in her kitchen, but I’m stopped in my tracks when I’m setting them down. Carefully, I walk down the short hallway and poke my head around the corner into her bedroom. Sitting in the center of the bed, knees drawn to her chest, she has her face buried in her arms, body shaking with broken sobs.
“Nacole?”
Her head lifts at the sound of my voice and she brushes tears off her cheeks, her eyes red and swollen. Trying to compose herself, she moves to the edge of the bed.
“Sorry, I thought you left.”
“Yeah, I did, but I forgot the flowers I brought you as a welcoming present. They’re in the kitchen. Are you okay?” Stupid question, but I don’t really know what to do. Crying women aren’t exactly my forte, and it usually brings me to my knees.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, just a little overwhelmed is all.”
“You’re sure?” I keep my voice gentle, running a hand through my hair.
She nods and puts on a brave smile, but I don’t miss the tremble in her bottom lip.
“Okay. Can I get you anything before I leave?”
“Uh… no. No, I don’t think so.”
With a nod, I turn to leave once more, but the sound of her sniffling has me turning back to her with a sigh.
“Nacole?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s something else I wanted to give you.”
Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she stands up, and I close the space between us in just a couple strides. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I look at her puffy eyes and give her a small smile. Moving slowly so I don’t freak her out, I pull her against my chest, hugging her carefully. She only hesitates for a second, and then her arms are banding around my waist as she buries her face in my chest. Keeping her tight to me, I rock her back and forth, whispering soothing words to her.
My shirt is soaked from her tears as her small frame trembles in my arms. Smoothing a hand up and down her back, I just hang on tight, letting her cry. Gently, I cup her head against my chest, placing a soft kiss against her hair, lips lingering while I cradle her to me.
I have no idea what’s upset her so much, but I’m not sorry that she’s in my arms. I’m a selfish bastard, but holding her feels right. Nacole fits against me perfectly, and I vow to myself that if she’s ever in my arms again, no tears will be falling from her beautiful eyes.
§
“No, I swear. I’ve never been.”
We’re sharing a plate of French fries at a local diner, a chocolate milkshake in front of each of us. After she calmed down earlier, I offered to take her out and get her mind off whatever had upset her.
“How have you never been to a country music concert? This is Tennessee, woman.”
“I just moved here. It’s not exactly on my to-do list.”
“Well, I’m changing that.”
“Garret….”
“I’m serious,” I state, crossing my arms over my chest.
She sighs and fiddles with her straw before taking a sip of her milkshake. After a beat, she trains her eyes on me.
“Listen, I really appreciate everything you’ve done. Brody and Lindsey too. But I’m not at a place right now where I’m looking for friends. I know I’m being a total bitch, but I have to be honest.”
“Hey, you aren’t a bitch. Don’t talk about yourself that way, all right?”
“Garret—”
“No, I’m serious. Clearly you’re dealing with something. I’m not blind. And I’m not gonna push you into talking to me or forcing your hand, but please don’t insult yourself for being honest, okay?”
Nacole’s eyes widen briefly, but after a second she nods. “Okay.”
“Now, you may not be looking for friends, and I can’t speak for the others, but I’m always up for a new friend. You can never have too many of them.”
“I don’t have any,” she says quietly with a shrug.
“Well now you have one.”
Nacole smiles and nods at me. “Fine. We’re friends,” she concedes, then, in a surprising move, throws a french fry at my forehead, giggling when I throw it back at her.
“Now, back to the real issue,” I begin, leaning my elbows onto the table.
“Issue?”
“Yeah. It’s decided. I’m taking you to your first country concert. And I know just who to bring you to see. He’s playing at a festival next month.”
“We’ll see,” she says, but a small smile plays at her lips. She’s already sold.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nacole
“Graham, please. She was my mom,” I sob, clutching at the sweater I’m wearing, desperate to get his approval.
“Exactly. Your mom, not mine. That bitch hated me, so why should I do anything nice for her?” He’s annoyed, pacing in circles in front of me, and I know nothing I say will change his mind.
“I’m your wife. Do it for me, Graham. Please don’t make me do this.”
“Who gives a fuck what you are to me? I’m not wasting a dime of my money to bury her. They can dump her off the side of a cliff for all I care. Now stop this nonsense. I have work to do.”
His words cut like knives, each blow more painful than the first. But I can’t let him do this, I just can’t. I need my mother to be taken care of.
Rushing after him, I grasp at his arms, fighting him to stay, to talk, to have just a tiny piece of humanity. I don’t see his hand before it’s on my face, backhanding me with a strength I’ve never felt.
“Shut. Up. Sadie. For fuck’s sake, look how pathetic you are. I have work to do, and I swear to God, if you don’t stop fucking pestering me with this bullshit, I will give you something to cry about. Now enough!”
The skin he slapped burns under my hand. Tears fall down my cheeks as I manage to pluck up the only small piece of courage I have.
“Fuck you, Graham Ward. I hate you so much!”
I know I screwed up when he turns toward me, a menacing grin on his face. In three strides, he’s right in front of me, his hand forcefully coming around my throat and squeezing. He backs me up and slams me against the wall, hand closing off my airway even more.
Gasping for air, I claw at him, but he’s too strong.
“You hate me? Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what hate is. Now I’m gonna tune you in to a little secret, okay.” His face is inches from mine, and I smell the vodka he had with dinner on his warm breath. “While you were busy refusing to get out of bed and throwing fits, I took the call from the funeral home. Told them you’d decided to have her cremated, that you
were unfit to make the call. Played the role as doting husband, and they ate that shit right up.”
Tears pour down my cheeks as his hand tightens impossibly harder. He’s inches from my face, grinning wildly at me. “So it’s done, lovely wife. She’s in a cardboard box waiting for you to pick her up. Or she can stay down there in a drawer where she belongs. Got it, sweetheart? Don’t you ever think for one second that you’re in control here, got it?”
I don’t move, blackness starting to creep in on me.
“I said got it?” he growls, squeezing so hard my eyes bulge under his grip.
I nod as much as I can and he releases me, smiling while I struggle to take in a deep breath, coughing and holding my sore throat.
“Good. Now stay out of my sight. You sicken me.”
He’s gone a moment later, and I fall to the ground, back against the same wall he just had me pinned to moments before. Crying softly, I know the pain in my throat is nothing compared to the pain in my heart.
How could he do this?
Jerking awake from the nightmare I sit up in bed, heart pounding and tears pouring down my cheeks. Chest heaving, I stumble to my kitchen and pour myself a glass of water with shaking hands before sucking it down, trying desperately to calm down. Setting the glass on the counter, I glance at the time and see it’s three in the morning.
Opening the back door, I step out onto the tiny porch and descend the stairs, going into my backyard. Standing in the quiet night, the breeze flinging my hair around, I take a deep breath and blow it out, counting to ten. My heart rate slows and I feel myself calming down as I fill my mind with images of my mom. Of her memory. Her smile.
Losing her was the worst thing I’ve ever been through, and I know it won’t stop hurting overnight, but I need to push myself to try harder. Stop closing people out and start living. The more time I spend here in Tennessee, the more I immerse myself in relationships and my job, the more I want to live. Not just for Mom’s memory, but for myself. I deserve that much.
Graham destroyed Sadie Nacole Ward. Broke her soul and turned her into a shell of who she used to be.
But Nacole Ward can be different. She can be strong. I just have to remind myself of that.
Deep down I know I should let my true self through, that they’d accept me for who I am, past and all. But until I’m finally free from Graham, I can never tell them who I really am.
Because telling them would mean I’d have to be that girl again.
And I fear that would kill me.
§
Pulling my hair back into a loose ponytail, I look at my reflection in the mirror and smile for the first time in a long time. I’m happy with what I see. My cheeks don’t look hollow, my eyes are bright, and my smile is genuine.
Between work and hanging out with Lindsey, I’m starting to find the girl I had hidden away for years. Garret helps too. I’ve only seen him a couple times in the last two weeks, but he’s been busy working, and well, I’m a coward.
The time I spent with him after he helped me move was terrifying. First I let my guard down enough to actually get into a car with him and not panic over it. Then I agreed to be his friend, and I even accepted his phone number. I haven’t used it, but somehow having it makes me feel safer. More comfortable. The one thing I’ve learned the most about Garret is that I’m safe with him, not just because of his badge but his heart.
Forcing thoughts of Garret from my head, I shut the bathroom light and, after grabbing my purse from my bed, head off for work. I’m tired, the nightmare chasing away sleep for the remainder of the night. I’d made myself a pot of coffee and grabbed the latest Nora Roberts book, letting her latest romantic trysts chase away the memories of Graham.
Shutting myself into my car, I make the short drive to work and turn into the already half full parking lot. It’s gonna be a busy night, I can already tell. But busy means it’ll keep my mind off everything, and hopefully tonight I’ll actually be able to sleep.
§
“Hey, girl, can you grab table three for me?” Caroline gives me a pleading look, arms loaded with plates.
I nod, walking over to the table. An older gentleman with longer, graying hair is sitting alone.
“Hello, I’m Nacole and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I start you with a drink?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take a draft, whatever you suggest. My nephew is meeting me here soon, so I’ll get an IPA for him as well. Also, could I go ahead and order food now?”
Nodding, I pull out my notepad and fix him with a smile. “Absolutely. What can I put in for you guys?”
Order in hand, I head back to the kitchen, tacking the slip up on the post. Turning around, I go back to the bar to grab his drinks, telling Brody what he asked for. He fills a glass of one of the IPAs and pushes it toward me with a smile.
“No Linds tonight?” I ask.
Brody shakes his head. “Nope. She’s at the hospital until eleven, and with an early shift tomorrow, I won’t be seeing her until I head home myself.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” I take the glass from the bar and grab a few napkins, taking everything over to table three and placing it down in front of the customer. He declines when I ask if he needs anything else for the moment, and I head over to another of my tables to check in.
Fifteen minutes later, I hear the bell ding from the kitchen, signaling table three’s order is up. Grabbing the two plates with burgers and fries, I’m carrying it to the table just as someone sits across from the older man.
Holy shit.
Even with a Red Sox cap pulled down low on his head, the dark hair peeking out and the tattoos winding around his toned arms tell me I’m looking right at the lead singer of the country band Dark Roads. Chris Hines.
Holy. Shit.
Setting the plates in front of them, I make eye contact with him and my cheeks heat. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I turn around and hurry off. Finding Caroline standing out back by the kitchen, I can’t help my shriek of excitement.
“You’ll never guess who’s out there at my table.”
“No idea. Who?”
Black hair bobbing around her shoulders, she turns to grab a serving tray, turning back to me with a questioning look.
“Chris Hines!”
“Oh, is he here again?”
“Again? This is a recurring thing?”
Caroline laughs. “Girl, he’s friends with Brody. They were all in here last year after a show downtown. He’s known Cooper Hall for years.”
“Shut up. Holy shit, I just met my first celebrity and I acted like a dunce.”
“Please, those guys are far from celebrities. They’re the most down-to-earth people you’ll ever meet. Seriously.”
Grabbing plates, she loads the tray and is gone with a wink, heading out to serve whatever table she’s taking care of.
Hearing the front door bell jingle, I head out onto the floor to greet whoever just came in. Garret and Jace stand in front of the door, both dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. My cheeks heat again this time, but not for the same reason as before. I haven’t seen Garret since last week, nor have I spoken to him. I think he expected me to call him when he gave me his number, but I didn’t.
Garret gives me a giant smile, and when I reach them, he moves to hug me and I brace myself. Instead, he leans down and drops a kiss to my cheek. Jace gives me a smile as well, and I offer them a booth on the side of the bar, close to where my other tables are. Knowing what they both like to drink, I head over to the bar and have Brody pour them.
After I give them their beverages, I sidle back over to where Chris and his uncle are sitting, tension lining their bodies. It looks to be a heated conversation, and I carefully approach the table, not wanting to interrupt.
“Another?” I ask, reaching for the empty glasses.
With a smile, Chris nods at me, and I slide them from the table, heading back to the bar. The door jingles with a new customer, and I look up to see a large man w
ith facial hair and a pissed-off expression step inside.
Yeah, not dealing with him. I don’t like angry men.
Looking away from him, I’m reaching out to put the glass on top of the bar when I’m roughly shoved to the side, the glass falling to the floor and shattering into pieces. My knees hit the floor with a painful thud, and I clench my eyes shut.
I’m helpless against the images of Graham roughly playing across my mind. Gulping in a breath, I can’t control my breathing.
My eyes open and I turn to see a brawl behind me, the man who pushed me raining punches down on Chris. Tears sting my eyes, and I watch in horror as Garret and Jace jump into action.
Just as the man cocks his arm back to deliver another blow, Garret grabs his outstretched arm and wrenches it back, the man struggling against him.
“You may want to think twice about that, pal. I’m an off-duty officer.” Garret hauls his ass from the bar as the guy continues to spit profanities at him and Chris.
As he pulls the guy to the door, Garret looks to Brody over the bar.
“Can you call the cops, man? Jace drove, and I don’t have cuffs on me. That guy’s bleeding like a fucker too. He needs to be checked out.”
Garret must not notice me, because he doesn’t even hesitate before hauling the guy out.
Carefully, I try to get to my feet, but a sharp pain in my hand has me crying out. Shit. Looking down, I see a small slice on my palm. A trickle of blood falls down my hand and a tear escapes.
Clenching my eyes shut, I have to count to ten, trying to calm my breathing. When I reach seven, I feel hands come down on my bare arms and I jump, feeling the sting in my palm.
I find myself face-to-face with Brody, his eyebrows knit in concern. Carefully, he helps me stand up and looks at the cut. Grabbing for a towel on the bar, he presses it to my hand.
“You okay?” he asks me softly, but I can’t answer. Pulling the towel back, he examines my hand, then looks up at me with a smile. “You’re lucky. This shouldn’t need stitches. It doesn’t look too deep.”
As I stare at my feet, he tends to my hand, and in minutes I hear sirens wailing outside. Through the large window, I watch Garret forcing the guy over to a patrol car, the guy struggling the entire time. Noise around me is fading and I close my eyes, fighting off the looming panic attack.