Return (Coming Home #1)

by Meli Raine

  I’m knocked out of my humiliation and into a far better state, even if it’s still uncomfortable.

  “Someone I’ve been dating,” he says slowly, “turns out to be with someone else, and it’s got me completely flummoxed.”

  The way he says “flummoxed” makes my stomach leap and my belly burn.

  “You too?” I say with a huff. Wait. I’m not dating Mark. I shouldn’t have said that. Oh, no. I have to—

  “Is it Mark?” he asks sharply.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In that exact moment Claudia opens the office door and out she pours, all high heels and green silk, oozing pure malevolence. Gorgeous nastiness, but still...

  Eric’s face changes. Morphs. Flips through a hundred expressions and in those split seconds I realize Claudia’s the person he’s been dating. He looks at me and doesn’t even look at them, his eyebrow quirking up.

  And then, slowly, his hand goes around my waist, the touch making me burn.

  “Hey, you two,” he says in a fake cheery voice. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Claudia’s face is a comical mix of fury, shock, confusion and pout. Her eyes flit from me to Eric over and over, finally landing on Mark’s face.

  “What,” she says to Eric in an unreadable voice, “are you doing?”

  He squeezes me and I freeze. “I had coffee with Carrie. We’re just catching up. Old friends,” he adds, his hand moving just enough up from my waist to make it very clear what he’s suggesting we really are something more.

  Blood pumps through my body like it’s running the Boston Marathon. Mark looks murderous. His eyes are dark and dangerous as he stares Eric down. Even his hair seems to darken, deep grooves of muscle in his face tightening as his jaw clenches. I’ve never seen him like this. My skin begins to tingle, like the dry heat of a fire as it spreads.

  I’m singed by his heat.

  “Old friends,” Mark growls. It’s not a question.

  “Right.” Eric’s clipped answer puts the tension up two notches in the room.

  Claudia is clearly disturbed by the fact that she is not the center of attention. She slips her arm around Mark’s waist and kisses his cheek. “We are not old friends. We’re new friends. Good friends. Friends with benefits.”

  My stomach lurches. I paste a smile on my face and hope I don’t barf.

  Eric’s mouth twists with sarcasm. “Now that we’re all friends, if you’ll excuse me, I was just about to ask Carrie what her plans are for Friday.”

  “You were?” I squeak, pulling away from him. My cotton shirt feels sticky against my skin. I’m sweating and my lips aren’t forming my words correctly. I need to be alone. Contained. Controlled.

  And not in the middle of this giant pissing contest between two men who couldn’t be more different.

  Claudia’s eyes flash with a kind of outrage that cuts through my anxiety. Even I can tell she can’t believe these men are fighting over me. Me. Boring, mousy Carrie.

  “Too bad,” Mark says in a voice that says he’s not sorry. Nope. “Carrie’s already busy.”

  “I am?” I squeak again. I really am mousy.

  “Oh, please,” Eric says, touching my arm. Claiming ownership. Establishing dominance. My dad and I used to watch enough of those nature shows for me to know this is animal behavior. Except I’m not a female in heat to fight over.

  A flush of desire ripples through me at the thought, though.

  “We have an important Euchre tournament. Brian and Elaine will be disappointed if we don’t go,” Mark says.

  Claudia makes a disgusted sound. “Euchre? What the hell is Euchre? Sounds like something you spit when you eat something gross. You’re a bundle of fun,” she says to him, rolling her eyes. She gives Eric a coquettish look. “What are your plans for Friday?”

  “Dinner in the city and dancing at a club.” He names a place I’ve never heard of. Claudia perks up.

  “The bouncers are impossible to get past,” she challenges.

  Eric smiles. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was the smile of a man whose plan has succeeded. “Not when your brother is the club’s accountant.”

  A cunning look fills her face as she lets go of Mark’s waist and sidles over to Eric.

  Animal behavior indeed.

  “It sounds like the old fogeys over there are playing some card game and we’re going dancing, Eric,” Claudia purrs. She literally sounds like a cat. The sound makes me want to gag.

  Eric lets go of me and walks over to Claudia, leaning against my desk. “Sounds about right.” He doesn’t look at me. I get the feeling that I’ve served his purpose.

  He needed me to get to Claudia.

  And it worked.

  I try not to look at Mark. I can’t help myself. When I do, I’m surprised by his expression. I expect him to be mad that Claudia is hitting on Eric.

  Instead, his eyes are on me.

  And only me.

  “Oh, well,” he says casually. “My loss. No dancing.”

  I stifle a snort. Mark doesn’t dance. At all. He has the dance skills of a drunk muppet. Except for slow dances. He’s very good at sensual moves like that. I feel a sigh build in me at the memory of being in his arms. We slow danced once, at a university dance after the homecoming football game. It was the only time we ever dressed up for a date.

  “I’ve seen you dance,” Claudia snaps at him. “The world will go on without you and your moves.”

  I said we called her The Claw, right?

  Mark doesn’t even acknowledge her. That’s smart. Being ignored is the best way to piss Claudia off. Mark’s clearly trying.

  And winning.

  He smiles at me, pretending we’re the only people in the room.

  I keep a stone face. A few minutes ago he was sucking Claudia’s lips. Now he’s claiming we have plans for Friday night.

  No. Just...no.

  “Sorry,” I say to him in a voice that makes it clear I’m anything but sorry. “I already have plans for Friday. No dancing. No cards.”

  “Really?” Mark challenges. He leans against my desk and crosses his arms over his chest. His muscles pop from under his black uniform shirt. His belt looks heavy, the walkie-talkie pressed against his hip. The cloth of his pants molds to strong thighs. His shirt is perfectly ironed and a white t-shirt peeks out under the top unbuttoned section.

  “Really.”

  “What are you doing that’s more important than the Euchre tournament?” he asks.

  Claudia makes a disgusted noise. “Anything is more important than that boring shit.”

  Eric’s quiet, watching all of us. He avoids my eyes.

  He’s creepier than Claudia, and a cold flush begins from the small of my back.

  Something’s off.

  There are so many ways I can answer that. I am reeling from the image of Claudia in Mark’s arms. The sounds of passion they made ring in my ears. Eric came in after their kiss; should I reveal it? I am so sick of hiding the truth from people.

  I’m done.

  I came back to my hometown to right a wrong. A big wrong. A wrong Mark contributed to and a wrong I aim to solve.

  Telling the truth is part of making everything right.

  “I won’t be kissing Claudia like you were a couple of minutes ago, Mark,” I say, pinning Eric with a look he can’t avoid now.

  “What?” he sputters, letting her go.

  “I’m not into girls anyway,” she declares, ignoring Eric’s outrage.

  “Clearly,” I say, sarcasm dripping from my words. I’m shaking inside. I don’t confront people like this. The old Carrie would never in a million years say these things.

  I’m not the old Carrie, though.

  Mark says nothing, scanning the room, eyes on me, then Claudia, then Eric. He owes me nothing. No explanation. No justification. Not one damn thing.

  And he gives me exactly that—nothing—as he stands slowly and walks away in silence.

  Chapter Seventeen

 
“I can tell by the look on your face that something’s wrong, Carrie.” Elaine’s declaration makes me stop short. She’s crouched on her knees, weeding around a small patch of bushes. If she didn’t say a word, I wouldn’t know she was there at all.

  “You mean, like this?” I ask, turning to her. I give her my best Grumpy Cat imitation.

  She wipes sweat off her brow as she laughs. “Now you look just like your dad.”

  My own laugh catches in my throat.

  I drop to the ground next to her. Who cares if I get my work pants dirty? I cross my legs and pick up a small, white stone from the garden bed.

  “How was your first week?” she asks, turning away. I know this trick. Elaine used it all the time when I was younger. Pretend you’re busy so the teen will open up. It worked. I watched her use it on me and her older son, Dan, all the time. I’m sure she uses it on Mikey, too.

  But I’m not a teen anymore.

  “Good.” An image of Claudia kissing Mark slams into my mind. “Okay,” I say, correcting myself. And then I add, with a dismissive sound, “Actually, it kind of sucks.”

  “A new job means you have a lot to learn.” Her voice is carefully neutral. I know what she wants to ask. I don’t have the courage to call her out on it.

  “Yes. Computer systems and time card programs and—”

  “You’re out for revenge, aren’t you?” she asks abruptly.

  Well. I guess I don’t have to call her out on anything.

  “No,” I say slowly. And it’s true. “I’m not out for revenge. I’m out for justice.”

  A long sigh pours out of her and she shifts her hips and knees, suddenly on her butt and sitting next to me. She slides her gardening gloves off and runs a hand through her sweaty hair.

  “It’s really easy to mix up revenge and justice, Carrie.”

  My throat tightens.

  “I won’t.”

  She starts to say something, then stops herself. She presses her eyelids together in a tight squint, like she’s struggling. I see all the wrinkles around her eyes and realize her hair is much grayer than it used to be. The roots are showing. We’ve all gotten older.

  Have we gotten wiser?

  “Brian doesn’t talk about it,” Elaine says, her voice thick with emotion. I suddenly feel helpless, like a little girl. “Joe’s arrest and conviction, I mean. We lost the bar. Your dad owned more of it and they claimed the storeroom was used for drugs, so it became a...what did they call it?” She makes a nasty sound. “A ‘civil seizure.’ That’s what it’s called. Because the bar was supposedly used to store drugs and deal drugs, the police had the right to take it. We lost everything.”

  Her nostrils flare. A ball of shame grows in my stomach. I know I have nothing to feel ashamed of. Dad didn’t deal drugs or store them in the bar. My dad did nothing wrong. But I’ve spent all these years so focused on him that I didn’t think about this. I didn’t think in any depth about how Dad’s arrest and conviction ripped Elaine and Brian’s life apart.

  “So the bar wasn’t sold?”

  She shakes her head. “The police seized it. Some real estate investor bought it. Then the coffee shop opened. It’s like the bar was never there. All that work—gone.”

  Gone.

  I blink harder and harder. My mind feels like confetti. The day at work was bad enough. I can handle stress. If Stress were an Olympic sport I’d be the captain of the U.S. team and a quadruple gold medalist.

  Even I can’t handle much more today, though. Why does life have to happen all at once? Can’t the universe spread things out just a little?

  “You never got a penny for the bar?”

  She rolls her eyes. “No. In fact, we had to pay a bunch of bills long after they shut it down.” She casts her eyes down and plucks at a stray, dry leaf that’s attached to her t-shirt. “Don’t tell Brian I told you, but we had to declare bankruptcy.”

  Now it’s my heart that seizes.

  “I’m so sorry, Elaine.” My tears pour down, slow and fat. The sorrow inside me is quiet. Steady. I’m not anxious or freaking out. It’s a more mature feeling, one that is deep inside me.

  “Oh, honey, you’ve done nothing wrong.” She reaches out and squints up at the sun. “Joe didn’t do anything wrong, either. That damn Landau, though...” A puff of air streams out of her, both fast and slow. “Watch out for him. He’s devious.”

  I think of Claudia earlier today, kissing Mark but going off with Eric.

  So’s his daughter.

  “Did you and Brian have any interactions with him?” I feel weird asking Elaine questions like this. I feel like hugging her and just crying together. Asking questions is important, though. I came back with a purpose. I came back home for justice.

  And justice means seeking answers.

  “No. Not a word. But he set up Joe and because of that, we lost damn near everything. Brian, Dan and Mikey spent that summer fixing up the cabins and by the skin of our teeth we got enough rental income to make it that first year before the bankruptcy went through. You know how expensive lawyers are?” Her tone of voice goes dark. “We paid for a lot of lawyers to make sure Brian didn’t get dragged into Joe’s mess.”

  Joe’s mess.

  “And the police wouldn’t even let us set foot in the bar. Not once. All that inventory, all our paperwork, all the business equipment. Brian couldn’t even take the pictures of Mikey and Danny he had at his desk! Just poof. Gone. Erased.”

  Erased. Like my dad.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I bounce up. She gives me a half-grin. “You kids and your phones.” Elaine gives me a shooing gesture, like I should read the text.

  Heard you’re in town. Amy gave me your number. Need some puppy love?

  The text is from Minnie, the woman who runs the local no-kill animal shelter. Minnie also happens to be Amy’s mother, so I was expecting this text to come some day.

  I smile and wave the phone at Elaine. “It’s Minnie.”

  “Oh,” Elaine coos, her face softening. “You going down there to hug all the puppies?”

  I pause. I started volunteering at the animal shelter when I was eleven. For the past three years the closest I’ve been to a dog is the strays on the streets of OKC I’d sometimes give half a sandwich to. Spending time surrounded by wagging tails and puppy kisses sounds perfect.

  “I guess I am,” I tell Elaine, clearing my throat twice to get the words out. With a few taps I tell Minnie I’ll be there after I change out of my work clothes. She replies back with a smiley face.

  Elaine stands and gives me a complex look. I see sadness in her eyes. I also see fear. “Make sure you really are careful, Carrie.”

  “With the puppies?” I know she doesn’t mean that, but my nerves make me say it anyway.

  “With Landau.” She’s dead serious. “There is something close to evil in that man. Stay close to Mark.”

  “Mark?” I choke out. Talk about an abrupt change of topic.

  Her face goes contemplative. “Yes, Mark. He loves you, and—”

  “I caught Mark kissing Claudia at my office today, Elaine.” The words are out before I can stop myself.

  “Son of a....” Her voice drops. “What was that man thinking?”

  I shrug. Elaine frowns and puts her arm around my shoulders. We both look up as a plane flies by, the kind that carries a banner off its tail. The banner says something about a big festival coming this weekend.

  “Really, Carrie? You’re sure he was kissing Claudia Landau?”

  All I can do is nod.

  “Damn. Danny won’t be happy.”

  “Danny? Danny Danny?”

  She gives me a rueful smile. “Yep. My Danny. He’s been dying to ask her out forever. If she’s with Mark now...”

  “I don’t think she is.”

  “But you just said...”

  “I walked in on them kissing, but then an old friend of mine, Eric, came in and suddenly Mark said he and I were supposed to play Euchre with you and Brian, and
Eric asked Claudia to go into the city and go dancing, and I left.” All my words came out in a jumbled rush.

  Elaine halts.

  “That’s a lot to take in,” she says dryly.

  “No kidding.”

  “Bottom line: Mark’s not dating Claudia?”

  I throw my hands up in the air. “Heck if I know. He just insisted Eric couldn’t ask me out because I was already...” My turn for my voice to drop off.

  “Taken?” Elaine’s clearly amused.

  “Busy,” I answer firmly. “But I’m not.”

  “You’re not playing cards with us on Friday?” She seems offended. Oh, great.

  “No, no, I am,” I assure her. I curse Mark silently for putting me in this position. He thinks he can control my life and kiss Claudia? What? I need Amy. Now. My mind is buzzing with too many thoughts. My heart is crying from too many emotions. Someone has to talk me down.

  Elaine gives me a quick hug and walks into her house, whistling lightly.

  Hold on.

  Have I just been played?

  As Elaine’s front door shuts I stare at the door knocker, banging twice, like a ghost trying to get in.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Who needs men when God gave us Golden Retriever puppies?” Minnie declares as I sit on the grass outside in the fenced area behind the no-kill shelter. I’m being pelted by eager little blonde puff balls of sweetness.

  “Not me,” I say firmly. “I need Amy. I need pizza and ice cream. I need unlimited viewing of Charlie Hunnam’s ass. And I need doggy love, but I do not need men in real life.”

  Minnie gives me a strange look. “I think I learned a little too much about you in that sentence, Carrie. And I don’t even want to think about Amy staring at Charlie Hunnam’s ass.”

  I laugh through my nose. I have to. My lips are pressed shut because of the puppies licking my face.

  “Speaking of Amy,” Minnie says with a frown, “I haven’t seen her in a day and a half. She’s not answering my texts. Any idea where she is?”