Davenport Harbor (Six Degrees Book 3)

by Statham, Mayra

  Our passion burned bright and hot in the spot where we first met.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Anne

  Staring out the kitchen window towards the main house, I shook my head. Three days had passed since our date in the rain and we had fallen into a nice routine. When we’d picked up Zoey from Mike and Sabrina, Sabrina had insisted on helping me plan something for Zoey’s birthday, which was quickly approaching. She gave me so many great ideas that I was now excited. They were coming over in three days, along with Nick and Birdie. John seemed excited about it, too.

  I was putting pictures into cute little frames that John and I had bought at Target on the way back from the Crown’s home. I sat at the table thinking about how much Zoey and my life had changed, about how much I cared about John. I more than cared about him, I loved him.

  Sitting in the guest house with the soft buzzing of the AC in the background, I looked towards Zoey, who was standing in her playpen. Could I tell John that I loved him? He cared about Zoey and I. I had no doubt about that, but love? Love was something else. Something I didn’t think I could be the first to admit to.

  Listening to a car drive up the hill, I couldn’t stop the smile on my face. Before John had left, he’d said he wanted to take me to a bakery he knew that could make the perfect birthday cake. I argued that I could just as easily make something, but he just smiled at me and suggested I make one and we eat that for breakfast, making me laugh and agree with him. I stood to get Zoey. Her large bright blues eyes were on me.

  I heard a knock at the door as I grabbed my daughter while she was smiling at me. “Maybe John is home early? Let’s go see, pretty girl.”

  Opening the door without checking first, I took a step back in surprise when I met a pair of familiar ice blue eyes staring back at me. Surprise was clear in them. My heart was thundering against my chest at who it was.

  “Annie?” His deep voice asked, and I swallowed hard, looking at the familiar man in front of me without saying a word.

  “It’s Patrick,” he clarified as if I could have somehow forgotten about him. “We went to Berkley together. I was a friend of Blake’s.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Yeah. Hi.” I tried to smile, fear seeping deep into me. Patrick Evans, Blake’s old friend, was staring back at me, smiling at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see John Davenport. What about you?” He asked, looking at me and Zoey.

  “Umm...I…” A friend had recognized me before. That was how Blake had found us. Thankfully, Zoey started to fuss, and I tried to calm her down. Shit. What do I tell him? My mind was scrambling. He’d been very close to Blake, but then something had happened before graduation and he’d stopped hanging out with him. When I’d asked Blake about Patrick, he’d turned jealous and angry, and it had turned into a fight that ended with his fist against my face and the back of my head smashing into a mirror in the hallway.

  “She’s beautiful, Anne. Is she yours?” Patrick asked while my heart was still thundering in my ears with the memories of the past fresh in my mind, so all I could do was nod.

  “He’s not here,” I heard myself telling him, and he tilted his head as if confused. “John, I mean Mr. Davenport. He’s still at work.”

  “Oh okay. I can wait if you don’t mind,” he said, smiling, and I tried to breathe.

  “Umm…”

  “We can catch up.”

  “Oh…”

  “Hey, you okay?” Concern was clear in his pale blue eyes.

  “Yeah. Would you like something to drink?”

  “That sounds good,” he answered and put his hands in his pockets. I opened the door wider then walked towards the table I’d just been sitting at, leaving the door open. As if sensing I needed it to be left open, he followed me in, leaving it that way without question.

  “How about a coke?”

  “Sounds good,” he said as he sat on a metal chair at the small dining table.

  I took two cans of cold soda from the fridge while I kept holding Zoey, then I sat down, holding a can out to Patrick.

  “Thanks. So, do you work for Davenport?”

  “Yeah,” I answered nervously. “How have you been?”

  He tilted his head, a confused look on his face. “Better, now that I’m out.”

  “Out?” I asked without thinking. “Of the closet?” My face turned bright red, and he laughed wholeheartedly. I would have never thought Patrick was gay. He’d always had a slew of sorority girls hanging off of him when I’d been around.

  “Out of prison,” he clarified, still chuckling, and my eyes went wide.

  “You were in prison?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been out for almost two years now.”

  ”Wow, I didn’t know.”

  “Blake didn’t tell you, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, but something about the way he did made me think he was not surprised.

  “No,” I shook my head, and he gave me a half smile. “Are you okay?” I asked, genuinely wondering, and he nodded.

  “Yeah, Annie. Being in prison, I learned my lesson. I’m clean now.”

  “That’s good,“ I told him sincerely, my hand covering his. Blake and Patrick could party. Drinking, drugs, pharmaceuticals, it was all a game for them at that time. I never did anything more than have a drink here and there. Blake used to hate that I wouldn’t get high with him. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Man, Annie! I’m so glad to see you. I can’t believe you live here. Davenport hates having people around.”

  “How do you know him?” I asked, wondering how the heck the world could be that small?

  “John? He’s my half-brother’s best friend.” His half-brother’s best friend?

  “You mean Mike?” I asked with surprise.

  “Yeah.” He nodded curtly, his face hard.

  “We just saw them a couple of nights ago. His wife is helping me plan a little birthday dinner for Zoey’s birthday. I sometimes babysit for them.” His pale eyes looked slightly taken aback.

  “The world is smaller than we actually think sometimes,” he shared astutely. His eyes glazed over slightly in thought. Shaking his head, he looked at me. “Are you and Blake still together?”

  “No,” I quickly answered, taking my hand away from his, and stood up, holding Zoey tightly in my arms.

  “Man, I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  “That makes two of us,” I clipped and then tried to change the subject, “Have you had lunch?”

  He stared at me and opened his mouth when John stepped into the small house, a frown on his face, then confusion washing over it as he looked at Patrick.

  “Pat. What are you doing here?” He asked, stepping closer into the guest house, his eyes roaming over Zoey and me, then straight back to Patrick.

  “I came to see you, actually. Anne here invited me in for a soda.”

  “Thanks, Anne,” John said without looking at me again. A slight shiver of dread went down my spine, leaving me feeling as if I’d somehow done something wrong. “Come on, Pat, let’s go talk.”

  “Right. Thanks, Annie. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Right,” I said, trying to smile.

  I watched as they walked out, John closing the door behind him without a second look.

  Maybe knowing that he was screwing the housekeeper wasn’t okay for certain people around him?

  John

  Settling into my office, I looked at Pat with too many questions swirling in my head. He’d called her Annie. She’d looked frightened. Had they known one another?

  “So what do you need?” I cut to the chase, wanting to go check on Anne.

  “Nothing actually, I wanted to come by and—”

  “Spit it out Pat, I don’t have all night.” My patience was wearing thin.

  “I heard you were looking into Blake Downey,” Patrick surprised me by saying. I fought the reaction that was coursing through me, especially when he kept talking, “I thought there was no wa
y. What the hell would John want with Blake? Now I guess I know why.”

  Holding my hands together, I took what should have been a calming breath, but instead made the fire burn brighter within me. Even then, I was still pretty sure Patrick couldn’t see it with my poker face in place. Looking at him, I saw the uncanny resemblance Mike and Patrick shared for being only half siblings. Not even my two full-blooded brothers and I held that.

  “I'm going to make my warning very clear, so that not even your little brain can misunderstand this. Stay out of it. Stay out of this, anything to do with her, and anything to do with that little shit Downey. You need to keep yourself out of trouble,” I warned, not sure where his alliance might be.

  “Relax, man. I didn’t mean it the way it came out.” His hands ran through his hair, “I get you don't like me. Fuck, I don't like myself half the time, but she's good. Anne's a good person. Shit, one of the best.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “We were at Berkeley together. When I was—”

  “Snorting your way through college?” I remarked, and he looked me in the eyes.

  “Yes,” he clipped, “When I was using, I hung out with Blake a lot. She’d somehow tied herself up with him. They were pretty serious.”

  “He's a dick,” I growled, the image of her bruised body still fresh in my head.

  “Yeah. You don't know the half of it. That's why I came to see you,” he told me honestly.

  “Are you clean?”

  “Yes.” His voice was sincere, unwavering, and I relaxed into my chair. "Zoey’s his kid?

  “How close were you to Blake?” I asked, not answering his question, and his eyebrow went up. "We used to party. Blake had connections for everything you could want. I had the money and girls hanging off of my sack. We were friends, I guess you could say.”

  “Did Anne use?” My stomach twisted, hating that I had to ask.

  “No! Never! It used to piss Blake off, he was always trying to get her to try shit, but she was adamant about not doing drugs. At the end, before...before I went to prison, he stopped bringing her to parties, and when he did bring her…” His hands scrubbed his face and then he leaned forward.

  “I was high eighty-five percent of the time back then, but she never treated me like a junkie. She treated me like a person. She was so fucking kind all the time, to everyone.” He shook his head, his voice slightly tortured, and my stomach churned at what he was going to share. “He used to hit her, man. We all acted like we didn’t see it, but fuck...Blake was a dick.”

  Swallowing hard, I leaned back and looked at him.

  “Did you have a crush on her?” I asked coldly.

  His ice-blue eyes pierced me. His face was harder than the one of the kid he used to be, but softer than the guy’s who’d come out of prison.

  “It wasn’t like that, man. She was a friend. I tried to talk to her once. Blake found out and…” he shook his head, a look of disgust on his face. “Let’s just say that Downey wasn't the type of guy to let things go. To him, she was his until he didn’t want her anymore.” He stared off towards my bookshelf, and I swallowed hard.

  “What was she going to school for?”

  “Computers. She’s smart, too. She helped me pass a biology course one term.” I nodded. I could see that. I had noted when I had watched her help Mike’s kids with their homework that she was good at explaining things.

  I stayed quiet and watched him as he stared right back at me.

  Patrick had made a mess of his life and had paid the price of his bad choices by doing time in prison. Thankfully, it seemed he was cleaning up his act after having been released from jail early. He’d been holding down a job and stayed clean, much to his own family's surprise.

  “Look, John. I don’t know what she’s doing here. I don’t know who the kid’s daddy is. All I know is that when I saw her, I was fucking relieved. I almost didn’t recognize her. She was always a bottle blonde and stick thin. When I got out, I bumped into one of the girls that we hung out with. When I asked about Anne, she said that Annie had disappeared, had fucking vanished. Knowing the shit I know about Blake...” he shook his head, “How he partied, how he treated her and other chicks he used to see, it made me sick to my stomach,” he admitted, and the look on his face told me he wasn’t playing me, but even then, trusting an ex-junkie was dangerous. Especially when it was about two women that mattered more than I was willing to admit to myself.

  “She’s in trouble, isn't she?” He asked, but I didn’t answer. “The kid is his, isn't she?” I didn’t say anything and could see the frustration in his eyes.

  “Fine,” he snapped, “Don't tell me shit. Don’t trust me. It isn't surprising that the almighty, cold-hearted Davenport doesn't trust anyone." I scowled at his words, but kept my mouth shut. “But you have to know I won't say shit about Annie or that little girl to anyone. Just promise me you won’t underestimate this guy. He’s a fucking shit, but he has eyes every fucking where, John. If he’s looking for her, he’ll find her. He’ll be fucking determined until he does. Like a fucking dog with a bone.”

  “I know,” I told him, “The idiot is young, but not completely stupid, even if he has fried a few thousand brain cells with the shit he snorts. But he has made more than one enemy, Pat. Now, when I said before you needed to stay away, I meant it. Lots of shit is going to go down for Mr. Downey and his daddy. It would be best for you and your paroled ass to stay away from him. As for Anne, she’s safe now, and I will keep her and Zoey that way."

  “What’s she doing here, John? Not that I don't trust you. I just know about you and women.”

  “What the fuck is that suppose to mean?” I slammed my hand on my desk, “I have never raised a hand.”

  “That’s true, you've never hit a woman, but from what I understand you don't do real. You like disposable. You pay for what you want. I just don't want Anne to go from one bad situation to another.” I wanted to punch the little shit. My blood started boiling, but maybe he was right. The truth was sobering.

  “Not that it is any of your business, but she’s my housekeeper. That’s it.” I told him, hating the disgusting taste the words left in my mouth.

  Anne

  She’s my housekeeper. That’s it. His words rang in my head and my stupid heart fell to the floor, a deep coldness flowing through my veins.

  I’d come to check to see if John needed dinner, but his words rang loud just as I reached the door. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door. I had a job to do.

  “Excuse me. I just wanted to see if you and your guest were going to need dinner, Mr. Davenport.” My voice was cool as I looked into his dark eyes. The look on his face told me he knew I’d heard him.

  “No,” he clipped, “You can leave for the rest of the day,” he coldly dismissed me, and I nodded like an idiot, retreating back to the small guest house with Zoey in her stroller.

  ***

  Night fell across the sky. Zoey was standing, holding on to the couch I was sitting on. I smiled at her and hoped it looked sincere. I had tried to keep my mind occupied as much as possible, but had failed. I kept hearing John’s voice on repeat. Someone has to clean this up. She’s just my housekeeper. I was an idiot. I had to give it to him, though. He was a smooth player. Maybe he’d stopped going to the escorts at Shine because he could have an in-house whore at his beck and call. The thought made me sick.

  I’d stupidly fallen in love with him. His growliness had grown on me, and I had somehow thought he was letting me see past the façade he wore in front of everyone. But I’d been wrong. Beyond wrong. I should have known better.

  Maybe if he would have come to see me after Patrick left, I could have let myself hope. But Patrick had left over four hours ago. Picking up Zoey and locking the door, I gave her a bath before putting her to bed.

  John

  I should have chased after her. I should have beaten on the door until she opened it and begged her to forgive me for the stupid and c
allous words I’d said. But I didn’t.

  Patrick was right.

  I didn't have much to offer Anne, much less her and Zoey, other than what they were getting from me now. It was better for her to think I was some kind of asshole bachelor-for-life than for her to hope I was the settling-down kind. I’d done that once, I didn't have it in me to go through that again. Loving someone, letting someone in, made you weak.

  I stood in the darkened kitchen, the space where her sweet, floral scent lingered as I stared out the window and watched the small house darken. I needed to make a point, to remind us both of where we stood, who we were, and why it could never work.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Anne

  I walked into the kitchen and quietly sat Zoey in her high chair before I quickly started getting breakfast ready for John, so that I could be out before he headed down the stairs.

  “Okay, Birthday Girl. Let me cook this fast and we will go back and have some birthday cake.” I’d emailed Sabrina and Nick with my apologies at having to cancel dinner. Birdie would be the only one to come over later to watch Zoey blow out her candles. It was better this way.

  With my mind deep in my own thoughts, I got things done in a flash. I was washing the pots and pans I’d used to make John his breakfast, my gaze on the garden that was full to bursting now. I could almost see him out there next to me in a stupid white dress shirt and slacks as he helped me build that garden. Who was that man? Who was the man that had planned the most perfect first date? I wanted to make a new memory where we first met.

  He cleared his voice and I straightened, squaring my shoulders.

  “Sabrina said you canceled tonight?” His deep voice vibrated softly behind me, and I couldn’t will myself to look at him.

  “I did.” My voice was calmer than I actually felt.