Reckless Memories

by Catherine Cowles

  “What about tonight?”

  I gripped the edge of the bar, fingers digging into the glossy wood. I hated the idea of Bell staying here, even if Kenna was planning to stay. What would the two of them do if someone bigger and stronger broke in? “I guess I’ll be staying in the office.”

  Hunter’s lips twitched. “On that ratty old couch?”

  “Dad’s stayed there a night or two.”

  “When he was in the doghouse. And he always came home moaning about his back.”

  I chuckled. “But it was his pained looks that would always get Mom to forgive him.”

  Hunter shook his head. “She’s always had a soft heart.”

  Crosby grinned. “Maybe your pained looks will get Bell to take pity on you.”

  Hunter snorted. “Yeah, right. She’s not as easily won over.”

  And wasn’t that the damn truth?

  The night moved slowly and quickly all at the same time. We were busier than usual, but not because of any live band playing. People were coming in to ask what had happened, if the sheriff had caught the intruder, how Bell was doing. I fought the urge to bite people’s heads off. Instead, I asked them to spread the word that if anyone had seen something suspicious, to contact the sheriff’s office.

  I felt a little bad for Sheriff Raines. He had no idea the number of calls his office was going to receive tomorrow. Everyone from well-meaning citizens to nosy grandmas would be dialing him up. But maybe one of them had seen something helpful.

  “Need anything else, boss man?”

  I glanced up from wiping down the bar. “No, you go on home, Hank.”

  He shuffled his feet but didn’t move towards the door. “You’re staying, right?”

  “Yeah. I’ll sleep in the office, but leave the door open so I’ll be able to hear if anyone tries to break in.”

  Hank’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Good. Take care of our girl.”

  “I will.” I was glad Bell had found good people like Hank who would have her back, who’d had it while I was gone. Now, I just needed to prove that I could be one of those people, too.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Caelyn jolted as she came around the corner, hand flying to her chest. “Ford, geez, you scared the crud out of me.”

  I grinned, but it was half-hearted. “Crud, huh?”

  She smiled. “Gotta try to keep the cursing to a minimum around the tiny terrors.”

  “Understandable. How are they?”

  “They’re good.” Caelyn rested her palms against the bar. “How are you?”

  There was genuine concern in her eyes as she asked, and my shoulders sagged in response. I was so damn tired. Exhausted from trying to prove myself to Bell, worrying about her, and now the nightmare of today. “I’m still fighting the good fight.”

  “Don’t stop.” She whispered the words as if Bell might be able to hear her a soundproofed floor away.

  My spine straightened. This was the first bit of encouragement I’d gotten from Bell’s inner circle. “I wasn’t planning on it. You got any tips?”

  Caelyn pressed her lips together, glancing back at the stairs. “You can’t give up. Don’t push, but don’t back down either. I know that might not make sense—”

  “No, it does.” I studied her for a moment, light brown hair swept back in two braids that were tied off with colorful rubber bands, and so much hope in her eyes. “Think you could put in a good word for me?”

  A mischievous smile stretched across her face. “Please, I already am.” Her smile briefly turned to a grimace. “You might have more of a battle bringing Kenna over to your side, though. She’s not one to forgive easily.”

  I sighed. “Thanks, Caelyn. I’ll win you over one at a time.” I set down the rag. “Let me walk you to your car.”

  She waved me off. “I’m fine, Ford.”

  “I’d feel a lot better if I did.”

  The humor fled Caelyn’s face. “All right. You can just watch me from the door.”

  I led the way to the back door, unlocking it and holding it open for her. “Get home safe.”

  “I will. Hopefully, Will didn’t sneak the girls candy while he was babysitting, and they’re all asleep.”

  I chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

  She gave a little wave, her gaze catching mine. “Stay the course, Ford.”

  I nodded. I would stay the damn course if it killed me. But for the first time in a long while, something foreign invaded my chest. Something that felt a lot like hope.

  27

  Bell

  I stretched up onto my toes, straining to dust every nook and cranny of the light above the bar. I almost had it.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Ford’s sharp voice caused me to shriek and jerk my arm back, sending my delicate balance off-kilter. “Oh, shit.” My arms windmilled, but just as I started to teeter off to the side, strong arms caught me and tugged me in another direction. I landed with an oomph against a hard chest. Thankfully, it was my unmarred cheek that took the brunt on my landing.

  “What. Were. You. Thinking?” Each word was gritted out as if it were its own sentence.

  I struggled free of Ford’s hold, straightening my t-shirt and tugging on the hem of my denim shorts. “I was thinking I was cleaning. What did it look like?”

  “It looked like you were taking completely unnecessary risks with your safety.”

  I scoffed. “I was doing just fine until you scared the crap out of me.”

  A muscle in Ford’s cheek seemed to flutter. “Don’t do it again. It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

  “Fine. Since we’re closed today, I’m heading out to the workshop.” The security company had been here all morning but had realized that they needed more sensors than they had originally brought with them. Two of the guys had gone back to Seattle and would return late this afternoon to finish the job. I thought it was a waste to lose an entire day’s business, but Ford had insisted, and he was the boss.

  Ford glanced out the back door to the workshop. “Do me a favor and lock yourself in there.”

  My spine stiffened, but when I took in the genuine concern in his features, some of the tension melted away. “I will.”

  “Thanks.”

  I nodded, heading for the shop. I didn’t know what to say to Ford anymore. But as I walked away from him, my body seemed to revolt, my stomach turned, and my heart sank. “Get used to it,” I muttered to myself. Ford might be growing tired of LA, but he wasn’t going to stay on Anchor either.

  I unlocked the workshop and stepped into the space, relocking the door behind me. The scents of sawdust and sea air eased something in me. Sometimes, I blared music while I worked, drowning out the world. But today, I needed silence. Needed the space to let my thoughts cycle themselves out so I could finally release some of my worries.

  I got to work putting my first coat of paint on the credenza, a gorgeous teal tone that was a little out there but perfect in my mind. I lost myself in the back and forth of the brush against the wood, in focusing on reaching every piece of surface perfectly. It was a meditation of sorts. A clearing of my mind. Nothing worked as well as this.

  I lost all sense of time as I painted, losing myself in the work. I startled as I saw movement at the door, but sighed as I took in Ford’s form as he entered. “What is it with you sneaking up on me?”

  “What is it with you and not paying attention to your surroundings?”

  Ford’s rough voice seemed to both make my anger heat and my skin tingle. “I locked myself in. I thought I was safe from distraction.”

  “I just came to tell you that the security company is gone. Everything’s all set up.”

  I glanced outside. At some point, the sun had set, and we were now deep into twilight. I pushed to my feet, arching my back in a stretch. “That’s good.”

  Little lines appeared between Ford’s brows. “You hurting?”

  “Just a little too much time hunched over.”


  He took a few steps forward. “You been working on this all afternoon?”

  I nodded. It had been just the ticket. When I lost myself in making something whole and new again, nothing else existed, only the work in front of me.

  “This is the piece we picked up from the garage sale?”

  I laughed. “One and the same. It looks a little different, huh?”

  Ford circled the credenza, hunching to get a closer look in places. “This is incredible. You could sell it for a nice chunk of change.”

  I shrugged. “Sometimes, I do. Other times, I keep them. But I’m never going to rip anyone off.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting that. But you deserve to get paid for all of your hard work.”

  My cheeks heated. “Thank you.”

  Ford leaned against the shelves on the wall of the workshop, his gaze going from the credenza to me and back again. “You restored all the furniture pieces in the bar, didn’t you?”

  I pressed my lips together. It was moments like these when I felt a million miles away from Ford, like he didn’t know me at all. Kenna, Caelyn, Hunter, they all knew how hard I’d slaved over bringing The Catch back to life. They’d brought me lunch or dinner as I worked through the day and into the night. They came to garage and estate sales with me as I hunted for bargains. They helped me haul and paint. And they knew how much it all meant to me. Ford had missed all of that.

  “Most of the pieces in the bar are things I fixed up. But not everything.” Who was I kidding? It was ninety-nine percent mine.

  Ford swallowed hard, as if the information pained him in some way. “Why are you hiding from me?”

  I reared back at the question. I wasn’t hiding from him. I opened my mouth to say so and then stopped myself. Wasn’t that exactly what I was doing? Ford Hardy terrified me. He was the tallest cliff I could jump off of, the greatest rush and worst potential for injury. I kept holding myself back from him because if he didn’t have all my pieces, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so badly when he left. Or even worse, if he stayed and found someone else to love.

  Gathering tears burned the backs of my eyes as I let out a shaky breath. “For so many reasons.”

  His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the bookcase. “Maybe you could share some of those with me.”

  I let out a little laugh, but it was tinny in its falsehood. He wanted me to say it out loud? That I loved him but couldn’t have him? That one day he would leave again? That I’d danced in my sister’s shadow for most of my life, and I couldn’t risk doing that in a relationship, too? My stomach turned at the thought of him comparing me to Vi. Her classic beauty and grace to my brashness and scarred body. I couldn’t look into Ford’s eyes and see the truth there.

  “You don’t trust me, do you?”

  He never looked away from me as he asked the question, kept his voice even and restrained, but the words made me wince. I trusted him. I trusted him with all of me except for my heart. I kept my gaze firmly locked with his. “No. I don’t.”

  Ford gave a firm nod, pushing off the bookcase and striding for the door, not saying a single word. As the door slammed behind him, I slowly sank to the floor. Tears flowed freely and unchecked now. I bit down hard on my knuckle, silencing the sound of any sobs.

  I was weak. So damn weak. Letting the fear of him leaving, of the possible comparison, the guilt over having always loved a boy who belonged to my sister eat away at my strength, at my bravery. And that weakness was going to cost me my one shot at happiness.

  28

  Ford

  I let the door slam behind me as I strode out towards the beach. I was being a sulky asshole and knew it. But hearing Bell say out loud that she didn’t trust me… It sliced deep, twisting and turning the blade as it went.

  I blew out a harsh breath as I watched the waves crashing into the shore, darkening right along with the sky. Doubt crept in right along with the tide. Maybe too much was broken between Bell and me for this to work. Maybe I was crazy to think that she cared for me, too. But then I’d remember the flicker of heat in her eyes when I touched her, the quick catch in her breath. The way her voice cracked when she’d said that even if she did want more, she couldn’t go there with me.

  She was scared. Afraid because I’d hurt her. “Dammit.” I’d done the exact thing I’d sworn I wouldn’t do. I’d left the second things got tough. The only message I was sending her with that was that I couldn’t handle her emotions, her hurt. Bell needed to feel free to share anything she was experiencing with me: her pain, her anger, her fear. I had to be strong enough to hold it right along with her, no matter how much agony it brought.

  I let out another curse as I turned to head back to the workshop and make this right. Movement flickered in my peripheral vision, but before I could turn to find the source, pain cracked against the side of my head, light flashing behind my eyes before my vision tunneled. My legs seemed to go out from under me, unable to obey my brain’s command to stay upright.

  Darkness descended. The world flickered in and out. Rocks dug into my back, cutting into flesh as it felt like I was moving. My body was moving, but I wasn’t responsible for the action. I tried to force my eyes open, but darkness engulfed me again.

  Fire burned in my shoulder. Someone was pulling me, the grip on my wrist vise-tight. The pain in my arm stirred me back to consciousness. I groaned. The grip tightened, and the pull seemed to intensify. Then familiar darkness took me again.

  Ice-cold water slapped at my face. I spluttered, turning my mouth away from the salty liquid trying to choke me. Someone cursed. There was pressure at my neck, pushing me down into the inky black water.

  As my body submerged, it woke something in me—adrenaline similar to the kind that allowed mothers to lift cars to save their children. I pushed off the rocky seafloor, my shoulder screaming as I did. I clambered to my feet, my eyes stinging as I blinked the salt water out of them. The figure in front of me was only a blurry mass. I swung, aiming for the fuzzy middle, hoping to stun.

  I caught ribs and flesh, and the assailant cursed. A male voice. I didn’t pause, I went for a hook-shot to the jaw, and his head snapped to the side. But the move cost me. My body, already weakened from the assault, teetered off balance. The attacker used the moment to his advantage, delivering a brutal blow to my side.

  I wheezed as I tried to straighten, praying I didn’t have a broken rib or a punctured lung. A wave crashed into us both, sending more stinging salt water into my face and eyes. I straightened, steeling myself for another blow, but a deep voice from down the beach called out.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  The figure in front of me froze for a split second, and I tried to blink the water out of my eyes. Attempted to identify the man in front of me, but my vision wouldn’t cooperate. The man tore off, moving out of the water and in the opposite direction of the guy jogging down the beach.

  The adrenaline drained out of me in a flash. My body crumpled as I fell to my knees, my head staying just above the water.

  “Are you okay?”

  I pushed to my feet with the help of the guy who hadn’t hesitated to help. “Thanks.”

  The man guided me to the beach where I could sit. “I’d offer to call the cops, but I don’t have a phone, and I’m not sure I should leave you alone right now.”

  “Hey! Are you guys okay?” Crosby’s voice broke through the night air.

  “You got a phone on you?” the stranger asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Call the cops.”

  Crosby muttered a curse, crouching down as he pulled out his phone. “What the hell happened, Ford?”

  “Someone tried to drown me.” My throat burned as I spoke, the reality of the words hitting me as I said them. Someone had tried to drown me. Panic began to lick at my veins. “Bell.” I pushed to my feet.

  Crosby was at my side in a second. “Whoa. Slow down there. You need to sit.”

  “I have to make sure Bell is okay.” The wor
ld wavered again, and then suddenly, everything went black.

  And I didn’t feel anything at all anymore.

  29

  Bell

  Voices shouting on the beach had me drying my eyes and forcing myself to stand. It was probably just kids. My friends and I had used the beach as our hangout all throughout high school. But the last thing The Catch needed was underage drinking going on a stone’s throw from our doors.

  I pushed open the door of the workshop to find that night had descended. I blinked against the darkness, trying to get my eyes to adjust. I didn’t see any huge group of teens on the beach, only a few guys, one who looked to be passed out. Great. “Excuse me, this is private property. You’re going to have to move the party down the beach.”

  “Bell?” The worry in Crosby’s voice had my spine stiffening. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. What’s going on?” I jogged towards the figures. My breath froze in my chest as my eyes focused on the man in the sand. Still. He was too still. And there was blood trickling from a wound on his forehead. “Ford?” The name felt as if it were made of a million tiny, frozen razor blades.

  I sank to the sand. My hands moved rapidly over Ford’s fallen form yet not touching. I was too afraid that any contact would cause more damage. “Is he breathing?” I didn’t recognize the voice that asked the question, it was as foreign to my ears as a stranger’s.

  A hand rested on my shoulder. “He’s breathing, Bell. And the EMTs are on their way.”

  “The sheriff?”

  “He’ll meet us at the hospital.”

  I reached out and gently took Ford’s hand in mine. It was cold, too cold. Tears stung the backs of my eyes. This was not happening. Any second now, I’d wake up and realize that this was all some horrible nightmare. But the seconds ticked by, and no daylight streamed in. “What happened?”

  A throat cleared, and I glanced up to see that the third man was Griffin Lockwood, and he was soaking wet. “I was walking back to my boat and saw two guys fighting in the surf. I thought it was just a couple of drunk tourist idiots, but I yelled, and one guy took off.”