by Jane Graves
“It’s not about what Shannon’s family wants,” Luke said hotly. “It’s about what she wants.”
“And you think she wants you because she kissed you out there in front of the whole town?” He made a scoffing noise. “She had a fight with her mother earlier. Loucinda told her you were scum and she should stay away from you. Shannon was just making a point because she doesn’t like to be told what to do. Are you really stupid enough to think it was anything else?”
No. That wasn’t the way it was. He knew how Shannon felt. But her mother—God. Was that woman going to make life hell for her until the day she died?
“I was sitting with Jerome and Loucinda while you and Shannon were dancing,” Russell said. “Do you know what Loucinda said? She said you came from trash and you’re still trash.”
Luke wanted desperately to get past that. To feel like his own man. But in this place he would always be associated with his father. Always. That hard, horrible, repulsive man was his legacy, now and forever.
Luke remembered the look Loucinda had given him when he and Shannon were dancing, that look that said that because of where he came from, her daughter would be defiled if he so much as touched her. He knew Shannon didn’t feel that way. But that look from her mother…it brought up something inside him that made him feel every bit as filthy and disgusting as his father. It wasn’t rational. He knew that. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of living eighteen years in this town with that hanging over his head.
No! Don’t pay any attention to any of this. Get out of here. Go!
Luke waved his hand dismissively and turned to get in his truck. Russell grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around. Luke shook off Russell’s hand and glared at him, his fist tightening at his side.
“If you touch me again,” Luke said, his voice slipping into the warning range, “we really are going to have words.”
Russell smiled. “Ah, now there’s the Luke who’s legend around here. The one who has a real hard time controlling his temper.”
Something old and painful welled up inside of Luke, ripping open that barely healed wound until it bled. “You don’t know a damned thing about me.”
“I know you want her,” Russell said, his voice low and intense. “I mean, what man wouldn’t? But you don’t stand a chance.”
“And you do?”
“Shannon might go slumming for a while, but in the end she knows where she came from.”
“Listen up, Russell,” Luke said, his mind growing blurry with anger, his fist itching. “The only reason you have any shot at all with Shannon is because I’m leaving.”
“Bullshit,” Russell said. “A woman like her deserves a better man than the son of the town drunk!”
White-hot fury obliterated the last of Luke’s restraint. With a roundhouse punch, he smacked Russell in the face with his doubled-up fist. Russell stumbled backward. Instead of going down, though, his face came alive with rage. He rushed at Luke, shoving him backward. Luke fell to his back, his head smacking against the ground. Russell fell on top of him. The pain only fueled Luke’s anger. He shoved Russell away, rose to his feet, and went after him again. He heard people behind him shouting. He couldn’t make out the words. They were nothing but noise. He kept punching until Russell went down again, and then he leaped on top of him. Luke had the sense of people gathering around, more shouting, but he was beyond rationality. Beyond stopping. Beyond doing anything but making this bastard pay for what he’d said. He wanted the whole fucking town to pay for what it had done to him all those years ago, for ignoring him, for treating him as if he was a lowlife just because of an accident of birth, for turning the other way when they saw a bruise on his face or a bloody lip. The anger and bitterness he thought he’d shelved came roaring out from the dark recesses of his mind, making his vision blurry with rage and his fists shift into weapons he was beyond controlling.
Then somebody grabbed his wrist and yanked him backward.
“Hey! You two break it up! Now!”
When Luke looked up, he saw the sheriff standing over him. He came to his feet, breathing hard, pain slicing through his head. Russell stood a few feet away, his nose bleeding and his left eye already beginning to swell.
Luke leaned against his truck, breathing hard, his head spinning crazily, feeling as if it was about to split wide open. The sheriff took off his hat, wiped his brow with his forearm, and put it back on. “Okay,” he said wearily. “Who threw the first punch?”
Luke wiped blood off his nose. “I did.”
“You’re damned right you did,” Russell said. “I’m pressing charges!”
The sheriff sighed. “Now, Russell, I’d like you to think twice about that. If we just talk about this—”
“No! He assaulted me!”
“Looks to me like you both got your licks in pretty good,” the sheriff said. “Why don’t we just forget about this whole thing, everybody go home—”
“Hell, no,” Russell said, gritting his teeth. “I told you I’m pressing charges!”
“There’s no need to escalate this,” the sheriff said. “If you’ll just—”
“I said I want him to go to jail!”
Jail? Luke felt a shot of apprehension. No. Not that. No!
The sheriff turned to Luke. “If you threw the first punch, it’s assault. If he wants to press charges, I gotta take you in.”
Luke just stood there, his head pounding, unable to believe this was happening. He had no idea how long this would tie him up there. He was due in Denver soon. If this dragged out very long, he might even miss the first round of competition, and the dream he’d been chasing for the past decade would disintegrate before his eyes.
No. It was worse than that. He was being arrested for assault. If Russell carried that all the way to the end, he could actually go to prison.
Slowly Luke became aware of people surrounding him, whispering, pointing. He couldn’t make out their words, but he didn’t have to. He knew what they were saying.
I knew this would happen.
Of course it was his fault.
Bad seed.
Just like old times.
Guess he’s like his old man after all.
What happened next was a blur. The sheriff turned him around and cuffed his hands behind his back. Luke had a flashback to the humiliation of his teenage years, when these cuffs around his wrists had spurred him to spit out a string of curse words a mile long. But this time he didn’t say anything, even as a hot flame of resentment burned inside him.
The sheriff walked him to the patrol car. Put him in the backseat. Luke gazed around the inside of the car. His hazy memory of being in the back of a police car before became crystal clear, and he hated what he saw.
The sheriff started the car and pulled away. Luke looked out the window. Shannon was standing ten yards away, her hand against her chest, the most horrible mix of shock and disappointment on her face.
He turned away, unable to look any longer. Now he knew that the past few months had been an illusion. A cruel illusion that he was becoming part of this town somehow, but in the end, nothing had changed. Somehow he would get out of jail. Leave this town behind, just as he had all those years ago, but this time he’d stay gone. As far as he was concerned, they could all go straight to hell.
As Shannon watched the sheriff’s taillights disappear down the street, she had the most unbearable feeling of everybody in the crowd staring at her, as if she was going to explain it to them. As if she was going to tell them why Luke had beaten the hell out of Russell and the sheriff had dragged him to jail. But she didn’t know. She’d arrived just in time to see the sheriff pull Luke off Russell and both men bruised and bleeding.
Eve grabbed Shannon’s arm. “Come on. You need to go home.”
“Eve—”
“Now.”
She led Shannon down the street toward her apartment. As they walked, Shannon saw her mother standing on the curb nearby, giving her a look so cold it made her shiver. Her eyes were dark
. Accusatory.
Triumphant.
Didn’t I tell you what kind of man he was? Didn’t I tell you?
And then she turned and walked away.
Shannon’s stomach turned over with anguish. She couldn’t imagine the Luke she knew doing this. Ever. It was as if he’d shifted to another world, another dimension. Russell had to have provoked him into the fight. But what the hell could he have said or done to make Luke hit him? What?
She wanted to go back in time. Just ten minutes. That was all. Just go back ten minutes to the time they’d spent on that dance floor in each other’s arms, when they’d made plans to be together in her apartment tonight. That was all she wanted.
Only there was no going back.
Luke was going to jail. Half the town had witnessed it. And now the connection she’d felt with him had been ripped apart, leaving a hole so ugly and jagged that no force on earth would ever be able to repair it.
Early next morning, Russell sat at his desk, his face still throbbing. His nosebleed had stopped, but the bruises would take some time to go away. And the swelling. And the anger. And the confusion. And—
He heard some commotion in his front office. He went out to find Cynthia there, putting stuff into a box on her desk. She glanced at him. Looked at his bruised nose. Then she looked away again, picking up the clock from her desk and putting it into the box.
“He didn’t break my nose, in case you’re wondering,” Russell said.
“I wasn’t.”
Her words hit him with nearly as much power as Luke’s fist. And still she wouldn’t look at him.
“What are you doing?” he asked her.
“Cleaning out my desk.”
“What for?”
“I quit.”
Russell’s stomach fell to the vicinity of his knees. “What do you mean, you quit? You don’t want to quit.”
“The hell I don’t.”
He couldn’t believe it. Cynthia had cussed at him. Cynthia. Yes, she had more of a mind of her own than he ever realized, but in the end, she was a good girl who only went so far. She’d cussed, and she hadn’t so much as apologized for it?
“Okay, fine,” he said, an anxious feeling coming over him. “You’re quitting. But why?”
Cynthia raised her chin. “I heard what you said to Luke last night. It was awful. You deserved what he did to you and more.”
Russell froze. Thought back to the words he’d spoken. Well, so what? Luke had done the unthinkable. He’d tried to take Shannon right out from under him.
“You heard that?” he asked.
“I was going to my car. But you weren’t paying attention, because you were saying mean things to Luke.”
He grabbed the rabbit before she could stuff it in the box. “You’re quitting because of something I said to Luke?”
“I’m quitting because you’re a clueless man who drives me crazy.” She took the rabbit away from him and put it in the box. “By the way, I’m taking Jessie with me.”
Russell drew back with disbelief. “You can’t take my cat!”
“She’s not your cat. She’s mine.”
“I adopted her.”
“Doesn’t matter. She’s mine. If you don’t believe me, just ask her.”
He glanced over at Jessie, who sat on Cynthia’s desk as if she belonged there, right between the aloe vera plant and that weird lamp with the fringed shade. The truth was that Jessie had never liked him, so why would he want to keep her? She was better off with Cynthia. Yes. That was exactly right. Both of them had treated him badly, so they deserved each other.
“Fine,” he said. “Take her. Is there anything else you want?”
He’d meant that sarcastically, only to see her looking around the room. “The ficus tree. It was dying when I showed up here. I brought it back to life, so I figure that makes it mine, too. And that little watercolor on the wall over there. I got it from the Red Barn, thinking it would look pretty in your waiting room. But you never said a word about it, so I assume you don’t like it.”
“I do like it. I told you I liked it.”
“No, you didn’t. Not once. So I guess it’s mine after all.”
“Fine!” he said, throwing his arms up. “Take everything! Take it all! Do you want my dental drills, too?”
She seemed to ponder that for a moment, then shrugged. “No. You can have those.”
“You had to think about it?”
“Well, you did ask.”
He looked at her incredulously. “Stop talking to me like…like you’re not you!”
“How would you know if I’m being me? You don’t know me.”
“I don’t know you? You’ve worked for me for six months!”
“Doesn’t matter. You don’t know me. But I know you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Sure I do. Enough to know that as much as I like Shannon, she isn’t the right woman for you. Not even close.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re both workaholic control freaks. That’s a recipe for disaster. If you marry and have kids, they’ll be so neurotic they won’t be able to show their faces in public. They’ll stay in their beds every morning with the covers pulled up over their heads. You need balance in a relationship. That’s what makes it work.”
Russell felt as if his brain was turned inside out. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing happened to me.”
“So if I’m not good for Shannon, who is?”
“Who do you think?” Cynthia rolled her eyes, then spoke with ultra-enunciation. “Luke.”
“He hit me!”
“You deserved it. Haven’t we been through that already?”
“So you’re quitting because of something I said to Luke?”
“Of course not. You’re actually a nice person at heart, so sooner or later you’re going to be sorry for what you said. And you’ll beat yourself up plenty, so there’s no point in me doing it.”
“So why are you leaving?”
“I told you before. Because you’re a clueless man who drives me crazy.”
Russell felt his eyes crossing with confusion. “That makes no sense.”
“Once again. Clueless. Good-bye, Dr. Morgensen.”
With that, she jerked the box up and took it to her car. She came back inside, yanked the painting off the wall, and took it away, too. Then she came back inside and put Jessie into a cat carrier. And when the door closed behind her for the third time, she was gone for good.
He stood there helplessly, humiliation crawling through him. Just once in his life he wanted to come out on top. Be a winner. Be a man other men envied. And now, once again, he was hanging from the bottom rung like the biggest loser alive.
He had to face facts. Shannon wasn’t his. She’d never been his. Not from the beginning, and certainly not now. He thought if only he pushed hard enough, he could get a ring on her finger, and the rest would take care of itself. Then he’d be part of the North family and his station in this town would be assured forever. But Shannon didn’t want him.
She wanted Luke.
When the two of them were together, it was as if they were meant for each other. Why, Russell didn’t know. Matters of the heart had always been the hardest things for him to fathom. If he tried to understand it, his head would hurt for the rest of his life.
The strangest feeling overcame him. It was as if Cynthia had seen right through his skin to the man beneath. That scared the crap out of him, because he wasn’t sure that was a man he wanted anybody to see.
She’d been right. About everything.
This had been his fault. Luke hadn’t wanted trouble. But Russell had given him trouble, anyway, because Luke had taken Shannon away from him, as if he’d ever had her in the first place. Right now, though, for some reason he couldn’t fathom, something else bothered him more.
He’d lost Cynthia.
He’d done things in his life he wasn’t proud of, but nothing like he’d done last n
ight. Shame filled him, crawling inside him and making him sick to his stomach. Cynthia was right about him. He was clueless. No wonder he drove her crazy. Somehow, some way, he had to make this right again.
He walked back to his office, grabbed his phone, and called the sheriff.
Chapter 20
Luke blinked his eyes open. Looked around. For a moment, he felt disoriented, with no idea at all where he was. The walls were bare. The bed was hard.
Then he saw the bars.
Sure enough, it hadn’t been a bad dream after all. He was in jail.
He sat up on the edge of the bed, feeling as if every nerve in his body had been deadened with Novocain. His sleep had been erratic and so filled with odd, nightmarish dreams that he felt as if he’d barely closed his eyes.
He heard a door open and looked up to see Sheriff Sizemore come in. Luke rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to focus.
“Russell called,” the sheriff said. “He’s dropping the charges.”
“Yeah?” Luke said, his voice slurred with sleep. “What made him change his mind?”
“He didn’t say. He just said he wanted you out of jail.”
The sheriff opened the cell door and gave Luke his possessions back. Luke looked at his phone. It was eight thirty. He was amazed he’d even slept that long in a place like this. He guessed it was self-preservation. Being awake meant he had to face what had happened, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“I want you to think really strongly about something,” the sheriff said.
“What’s that?”
“Leaving town. Today.”
Luke’s head throbbed with shame and humiliation. He’d walked into this town with the stain of the past still on him, and he was leaving now covered in it.
“Yeah,” he said in a dead voice. “I’m leaving.”
“I think that’s best for all concerned.”
Luke turned and walked to the door, feeling the sheriff’s gaze on him with every step he took, the man’s unspoken words stabbing into him. And don’t come back.
A minute later Luke was walking along the town square toward his truck. Remnants of the festival were still scattered along Rainbow Way—signs, pennants, a few booths that had yet to be taken down. It seemed surreal to him now, as if the festival had ended months ago instead of hours.