Sweet Heart (The Hearts of Sawyers Bend Book 2)

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Sweet Heart (The Hearts of Sawyers Bend Book 2) Page 22

by Ivy Layne


  Everything about her text felt off. I wasn't reassured when I found her standing beside her car.

  Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she looked everywhere but at me. Something was very wrong.

  “You okay?” I asked, moving in to pull her into my arms. A hug didn't fix everything, but it was a good place to start. To my relief, Daisy settled against me, burrowing her face into my chest and letting her breath out on a long sigh.

  “No,” she said. “I'm not okay.”

  “You want to talk about it?” Seeing her start to close down, I forged ahead. “Did you get lunch? I can order some food up to my office, and you can tell me about your morning, figure out how I can help.”

  She went stiff in my arms, pulling away and shoving her hair out of her face, not meeting my eyes. “Daisy, what happened?”

  When she raised her face to mine, her beautiful brown eyes swam with tears. Frustrated anger surged through me. Her family couldn't keep doing this to her. “What happened?”

  Daisy opened her mouth to answer, then snapped it shut. She wasn't going to tell me what was going on. I tried to tell myself to give her space, but I couldn't get there. She didn't need space, she needed someone to give her parents an ass-kicking. She needed her grandmother to stop enabling her son and stick up for Daisy.

  She needed a lot of things, and she wasn't going to get any of them unless she was willing to stick around and ask for help.

  “Why won't you talk to me?”

  Daisy shook her head. “I can't. I want to, but I have to think. I can't tell you everything yet.”

  “Do you need to talk to West?” I asked carefully.

  She shook her head, her cherry-cola curls bouncing in the light.

  “Daisy, tell me how to help.”

  “Let me get my car out so I can go for a drive. I need to think. I need space, and I need to think. That's the only thing that's going to help right now.”

  Frustration built in my chest, insistent that I do something. Fix this. Daisy going off on her own wasn't a solution to any problem. “Something's changed. What happened? Why don't you just tell me, and we can work it out?”

  “Because I can't,” she burst out. “I can't tell you. I don't know what to do, and I need to think. Please, Royal, I need to go.”

  I stepped back, wrestling inside myself for control. “Why? Just tell me why.”

  “I can't!”

  She stepped back too, putting distance between us. I didn't want Daisy over there. I wanted her here, in my arms. I crossed my arms over my chest to stop myself from reaching for her.

  “You can't trap me here,” she said, pressing her hands together so I wouldn't see they were shaking. “Do I need to call West to make you give me my car?”

  “Maybe you should,” I shot back. “Maybe he can get the truth out of you.”

  The stricken look in her eyes stopped me in my tracks. I was furious, hurt, so frustrated I wanted to punch someone, but Daisy had a point. She wanted to go, and I was stopping her.

  I had the sinking feeling that if I let her go now, she wasn't coming back.

  Stupid. I had no reason to believe that. People had bad days, and people went for drives to clear their heads. This wasn't the end of the world. It wasn't the end of me and Daisy.

  “I need you to trust me,” she whispered, tears staining her cheeks, her eyes frantic and so fucking hurt. I couldn't see straight past the pain in my gut at her misery. If I was any part of this, I had to stop.

  “I trust you,” I whispered back. “I do. I just want you to tell me what's going on.”

  “I can't. Not until I figure it out. Please.”

  She closed the distance between us and reached up, framing my face in her hands. “I love you, Royal. I do. So much. But everything is so messed up right now. I need some time.”

  My heart shattered. I knew what she meant by time. “No, Daisy. We can do this together. Just talk to me.”

  I hated to beg, but I would do it for her. Except begging wasn't enough.

  “We can't do it together. I wish we could.”

  The sadness in her face was insurmountable. I wasn't going to talk her out of this. Ugly words rose to my lips, some bullshit about not waiting for her to figure herself out.

  I kept my lips pressed together. She was killing me, but she was dying, too. As much as I wanted to strike out, I couldn't bring more pain to her eyes.

  Daisy rose to her toes and pressed her mouth to mine, her lips moving, words barely audible. “I love you, Royal. I love you so much.”

  I pulled her to me, holding her there, kissing her, everything that was Daisy washing over me. Her taste. The vanilla scent of her skin. The soft brush of her curls. The low hum in her throat as our kiss deepened. Her mind was all fucked up, but Daisy's body still wanted me.

  I thought about using that to get what I wanted. I could probably do it—seduce her and get her to talk. Maybe.

  And if I did, I'd be betraying her trust.

  Trust.

  Everyone she trusted had screwed her over. Even J.T., staying away for so long and leaving her to face this on her own.

  Our kiss felt like goodbye. It ended far too soon. From behind me, I heard a familiar screech. “Royal Sawyer!! This is your last fucking chance, you bastard!”

  Daisy was already pulling away. I turned, tucking her behind me, and faced Vanessa. For a split second, I lost my words. I'd been about to tell her to shut the hell up, but her appearance threw me.

  Her hair hung lank around her face, the gleam of the black strands replaced by grease and what looked like dust. Her porcelain skin was more like parchment, dry and dull. As far as I could tell, she wore no makeup. I'd never seen her without her signature red lipstick.

  Even her clothes were wrong. She was in her usual designer gear, but she was wrinkled and sweat-stained. Vanessa was trouble on a good day. Right now? She was a disaster.

  “Wait,” I ordered her, turning to Daisy.

  Daisy was watching Vanessa, her mouth dropped open, face leached of color. “What is it?” I whispered low enough that Vanessa couldn't hear.

  “Who is that?”

  “Vanessa. Ford's ex-wife. She's probably here to hit me up for money again.”

  Daisy started shaking her head, shooting a cautious glance at Vanessa, who paced behind us, only seconds from losing her faint control. “She's involved,” Daisy breathed. “In what's been happening at The Inn. I can't tell you how I know, but I know. She's involved.”

  What? How did Daisy know Vanessa? I didn't have time to ask. Vanessa wasn't dangerous, but she was the last thing I needed dropped into the middle of my conversation with Daisy. Unfortunately, there was no way Vanessa was going to leave until she had her say. Again.

  I dug in my pocket for my keys. “Here, take my car. Bring it back later. I don't care. You have enough going on without dealing with Vanessa.”

  Reluctantly, Daisy took my keys. I knew she'd rather have her own car, but that wasn't going to happen. Not yet. I had to deal with Vanessa, and Daisy wanted to go. She saw the logic and rose once more to her toes. Her mouth by my ear, she said, “Whatever happens, just remember I love you.”

  “I love you too, Daisy.” I caught her as she tried to escape. She tugged on her wrist, but I held tight. Just one more thing I had to say. I reeled her back in and kissed her lips, then her cheek. “Whatever happens, whatever is going on that you won't tell me, just remember that I love you, too. No matter what.”

  A sob hitched in her chest, and she was gone, rounding the hood of my car and beeping the doors unlocked.

  “No matter what, Daze,” I called after her.

  She nodded again as she started the engine, pulling out of the parking space with tears streaming down her face. Fuck. Not how I wanted that to go. At least she'd have to see me to return my car.

&
nbsp; “Royal!” came the screech from behind me. I turned to Vanessa.

  “What the fuck do you want, Vanessa?”

  “Why, did I interrupt your lover's spat? I thought Darren told her to stay away from you.”

  “How do you know Daisy's father?” Puzzle pieces were rattling in my head. Daisy. Vanessa. Darren Hutchins. How did it all fit together?

  “Not important. He's small-time. An idiot.”

  “I already knew that. Why are you here, Vanessa? You're banned from Inn property.”

  “I have one last offer for you Royal. Cash for information.”

  “What could you possibly know that would interest me?”

  “I know who killed your father.” She said it so bluntly I knew she was telling the truth. Or she thought she was.

  “I didn't think you were that good a shot,” I said, trying to play off the sudden tightness in my chest. Could she know?

  Vanessa tossed her lank hair, the gesture losing most of its effect with her so disheveled. “Not me, you moron. But I know who did it. And how. And more importantly, I know why. But it's going to cost you.”

  I could play along. For now. “How much?”

  “A million. Cash.”

  I waited for her to laugh and give me another number. No, she was completely serious. Was she insane? “I don't have a million in cash.”

  Another hair toss, this one accompanied by a sneer that almost did her justice. “You can get it. Between you, Griffen, Tenn—you can get it. I need the cash, or I disappear and you'll never know the truth.”

  I shook my head in denial, buying time while my mind raced. I could get the money if I had to. But this was Vanessa. What could she know?

  “Fine. But we do the exchange after you tell West everything you know. I'm assuming for a million we get proof.”

  Vanessa's eye roll was impressive, especially considering how unimpressive the rest of her looked. “For a million you get who, how, and why. That's all. You can go dig up the evidence yourselves. Shouldn't be hard once you know where to look.”

  “Fine.” I wasn't surprised she didn't have proof, but she wasn't getting her way without giving a little. “But we do the exchange in front of West. I'm not strolling around town with a million in cash.”

  “No fucking way.”

  “Fine.” I shrugged and turned as if to go. Vanessa's hand shot out to grab my arm.

  “Royal, think about what you're saying. I can give you what you want. You can get Ford out of jail.”

  “Unlikely, considering you don't have proof.” I turned away again.

  “Royal! Don't do this!”

  I'd never seen Vanessa look desperate. Not like this. She was wound so tight, I thought she'd splinter if I touched her. The tiniest twinge of pity hit me.

  “Look, Vanessa, I don't think you know anything useful. I think this is a last-ditch effort to scam some cash out of the Sawyers, and I'm not falling for it. If you think you know who killed Prentice, go see Griffen. I'm done.”

  Vanessa could go peddle her bullshit somewhere else. I didn't believe for a second that she knew anything about my father's murder.

  I did believe that she was mixed up in the sabotage at The Inn. I wasn't ready to think about how Daisy knew that, but the kind of petty attacks we'd been dealing with were exactly Vanessa's style.

  I turned again, this time really leaving, when Vanessa tried one more time. Her fingers locked on my sleeve, she begged, “Please, Royal. I need the money. I do know who killed Prentice. And he knows I know. I have to get away from him before he decides I'm next. I can't get anywhere near West Garfield. If he sees me talking to the police—”

  If possible, Vanessa's face went even paler. I almost believed her. Almost. But not quite. She was a pretty package most days, but that package hid the opportunist beneath and I'd had my fill of those.

  “Get lost, Vanessa. Try panhandling. Might work out better for you. If I see you here again, I'm calling West. Understand?”

  Vanessa only stood there staring at me, unable to believe I'd turned her down. Tough luck. I didn't look back as I made my way into The Inn, ignoring her need to get the last word.

  “You're going to regret this, Royal Sawyer.”

  “I already do,” I said over my shoulder.

  Not the part about turning down her generous offer of lies in exchange for a cool million. No, I regretted not running her out of town months ago. Years ago. If Vanessa knew who killed Prentice, she'd had plenty of time to come forward. Hell, she could have kept Ford out of jail. He'd divorced her, but I'd bet he would have forked over the cash in a heartbeat to keep his ass out of jail.

  I doubted Vanessa knew anything about Prentice, but she'd said more than she meant to. In my office, I stood at the big window staring out over The Inn property into the mountains beyond.

  Vanessa. Darren Hutchins. Daisy. The Inn. Puzzle pieces started to fall into place in my brain. Once I was sure I had the right picture, I picked up the phone and made a call.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Daisy

  I drove around for almost an hour until I found myself at the trailhead to my favorite waterfall. Easing Royal's lush sports car into the gravel parking area, I got out and began to walk up the familiar trail.

  Everything was such a fucked-up mess. Not even the damp air on my cheeks or the emerald sway of branches above could soothe my raw heart.

  My father was the one who'd been trying to destroy The Inn. How did he know Vanessa Sawyer? Had she hired him to do her dirty work?

  Did it matter? I'd already learned my dad had a stupid grudge against Prentice Sawyer that he'd decided to extend to the whole family. Even if Vanessa was paying him, he'd seemed happy to jump in.

  What did I do now?

  Drive to the police department and ask to see West.

  There it was. I knew the answer already.

  My mother's face popped into my head, her eyes sad, accusing. What would happen to her if I told West everything? And Grams…

  I'd been holding out hope that Grams would see the truth about my dad, kick him out, and things could go back to normal. If I was the reason her beloved son ended up in jail, she'd never forgive me.

  If I turned my dad in, I'd lose my family.

  And if I didn't, I'd lose Royal.

  Finally reaching the waterfall, I climbed the last stretch of trail and slipped behind the narrow stream of water, taking refuge in the cool, damp shade of the rock overhang. Here I was hidden, the gentle spray masking the tears on my face.

  It was a good place to think. One of the best. J.T. and I used to come here all the time in high school, to get away from home and adults and responsibilities. I hadn't come here alone in ages. It only made me miss J.T. more.

  I settled back against the rock, damp soaking through my shorts and t-shirt, and tried to think. It was a waste of time. What was there to think about?

  I had to choose: my family or Royal.

  Right or wrong.

  And when I lined it all up, it was so easy to see that there was really only one choice after all.

  Easy to see and impossible to carry out. How could I do it and live with myself? How could I live with myself if I didn't?

  And there was still the small matter of felony theft charges. If I turned my father in and he talked Grams into pressing charges, I'd be facing a future that included prison time at worst and a felony on my record at best.

  I could be pissed at my dad all I wanted—for asking me to take the money, for never intending to pay it back, for threatening to press charges at all.

  Except I was the one who'd taken the money. Me. My decision and my consequences.

  And still, it all came back to one thing. What could I live with?

  I'd made a bad decision in taking the money. No question there. But I couldn't fix
that. The money was gone, and I wasn't going to get it back. I couldn't undo that bad decision, but I could avoid making a worse one.

  My phone beeped with a text.

  J.T.

  Where the hell are you? Grams just got done crying all over my shoulder about you quitting the bakery. WTF?

  Grams was crying? Ugh, that just made me feel worse. She was blind when it came to my dad, but she was still the woman who'd raised me when my own parents decided child-rearing was too boring for them. She'd given me a home. A trade. And love. She'd raised me with so much love.

  One of our hearts was going to break. How could I choose to spare myself knowing the pain it would cause her? Could I ever be happy if it was at her expense?

  I debated how to answer J.T. Unable to explain over text, I went for an interrogation instead.

  Why are you home?

  Classes were canceled. Power outage. Where are you?

  At the waterfall. I had to think.

  Do I need to come out there?

  No. I'm headed home.

  I might as well go back. Sitting under the waterfall hadn't solved anything. Now, I was wet on top of being heartbroken, confused, and angry. I dragged my ass back down the trail and let myself into Royal's car. The inside smelled of rich leather and Royal. I inhaled deeply, his scent a comfort.

  Not a lot made sense right now, but I knew one thing.

  I loved Royal. If I let him go, I'd regret it for the rest of my life.

  I put the car in gear and headed back to town, no happier than I'd been when I'd left but a little closer to figuring out what I had to do. On the way back, Nelson's Farm Stand caught my eye, the baskets in the front full to bursting with summer berries.

  Still turning over my troubles in my mind, I pulled in and bought pints of strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries. I couldn't resist popping a blackberry into my mouth after I pulled the car back on the road. Tart and sweet, the flavor of summer exploded over my tongue.

  I still didn't know what I was going to do with my life, but I knew what I was going to do with the berries. I was going to bake a pie. I always thought best when I was baking and I still had some thinking to do.

 

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