Till There Was You

by Iris Morland

  “Thanks for tonight,” she said, only half-meaning it. “Have a good night.”

  Before Brian could ask her for a second date or try to kiss her again, she unlocked her door and shut it in his face, hoping he’d get the hint without her having to tell him to his face.

  I’m doomed. Totally and completely doomed for the one man I apparently can never have.

  * * *

  Heath swore as he jogged to his car. The rain had started right when school let out, and Heath had, of course, left his umbrella in his car. Shivering, he almost didn’t notice the man approaching until he was only a few feet from him.

  “Nice weather, huh?” the man said, like they were enjoying a beautiful sunny day.

  Heath looked up to see a nondescript man smiling at him. He was of average height and no older than forty, with only a few lines on his face. His wore a wide-brimmed hat that dripped from the rain and a trench coat cinched at the waist that made him look like some detective from a midcentury noir film. A scar bisected his chin, his front tooth chipped from probably the same fight that had cut his chin.

  “Do I know you?” Heath asked, a bad feeling crawling up his spine.

  The man grinned. “You don’t recognize my voice? Shame. It’s Rich. I thought I’d stop by and have a chat.”

  Heath froze, the cold rain dripping down his collar. Or maybe it was the fear that was making him feel so cold. His umbrella was forgotten as he stared at the man who’d threatened him and stalked him for the last month.

  Rain spattered the lenses of his glasses, making the man in front of him look like multiple people from the water’s refraction.

  The laughter of children drifted to them, only exacerbating the situation. This piece of shit was here, at Heath’s workplace and at a school. Rage made Heath’s vision turn red.

  “A chat? Why the hell are you here, where I work? I got your messages. You didn’t have to tell me in person.”

  “I think I did. Because from what I understand, you still plan to testify, so maybe you really didn’t understand my message.”

  Heath gritted his teeth. “I got it. Leave before I call the cops.”

  “Call the cops if you want, but that’ll just make things worse for you. Do you really want everyone in town to know your dirty little secret? Pretty sure schoolteachers aren’t allowed to be drug dealers.”

  “The charges were dropped, and you have no proof, anyway.”

  “You really want to call my bluff?” Rich’s face split into a grin. “Even if you don’t care about yourself, I bet you care a lot about your sister.”

  Rain dripped down Heath’s face, soaking his hair, but he couldn’t feel it now. Hearing Rich mention Rose was like lighting a match to kindling.

  In a swift movement, Heath grabbed Rich by his shirt and shoved him against a nearby car. “Don’t ever talk about my sister,” he snarled, watching with some satisfaction as Rich tried to free himself from Heath’s grip. “Don’t you touch a hair on her head. Or I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself.”

  He gave Rich one last shake before letting him go. The only reason he didn’t punch him in the jaw was the fact that they were still at school. The parking lot was blessedly deserted right then, but it wouldn’t help for one of Heath’s coworkers to see him manhandling some guy.

  Rich smoothed his shirt. All humor disappeared from his expression. “Threaten me as much as you like. I’m the one who can ruin your life, and your sister’s, too. So I’d recommend you make your decision before I make it for you.”

  Rich got into his car and drove off, his tires screeching against the wet pavement. The rain fell harder, soaking Heath to the skin, but he could only concentrate on his roiling thoughts.

  The thought of anyone hurting Rose again sent him into an emotional tailspin. He’d already failed her once, and it would haunt him for the rest of his life. If he didn’t do everything in his power this time to keep her safe…

  “Are you all right?” Sara Thornton, formerly Flannigan, walked up to Heath and held her umbrella over them both. Heavily pregnant, she was due to give birth at the end of February. Despite Harrison’s protests about her continuing to work, Sara wanted to finish this semester before going on leave.

  Heath and Sara had become friends when she’d started working at the school, and when she’d gotten together with Harrison, it had only cemented their friendship further.

  Heath wiped the rain from his face. “No. You shouldn’t be out here. Harrison would kill me if he knew I let you stand outside in the rain.”

  Sara rolled her eyes. “I’m pregnant, not dying.” She patted her belly. “Besides, you’re the one soaked to the skin. Did you lose your car keys or something?”

  “No—no.” He pushed his fingers through his hair and then tried to dry off his glasses, but his clothes were too wet to make a difference.

  Sara took his glasses and dried them herself. “I’ve never seen you this out of sorts. Now you’re really worrying me.” She handed him his glasses, her forehead creased. “At least tell me if I can help.”

  “I wish you could. Really. But this is something I have to deal with myself.”

  “Well, at least go home and dry off. You’ll get pneumonia.”

  Heath smiled, but it was a brittle smile. “I think that’s an old wives’ tale.”

  “And then you’re going to agree to come have drinks with me and Harrison. Well, you two can drink. I can’t.” She sighed, but her eyes sparkled nonetheless.

  Seeing Sara so happy and in love, soon to have a baby, sent frissons of longing through Heath. Not for Sara herself—he’d never thought of her in that way. But to have that contentment, the knowledge that when you went home, you’d be with the one person in this world who loved you despite everything. Who wanted to make a family with you.

  Jubilee entered his thoughts, and it only made his heart clench. Don’t go there. Don’t.

  “Of course I’ll come have drinks with you two. Just let me know when. I’ll even try not to rub it in that you can’t have any booze.”

  “My hero.” Sara patted him on the arm, giving him one last concerned look before she went to her car.

  Heath got into his own car, shivering now from the cold, and he waited for Sara to drive off before he did. He didn’t want Rich to show up again and threaten someone else. God, just the thought of him going after Sara, or Jubilee, or anyone else he cared about…

  He turned his car heater on full blast until the shivering abated enough so he could drive. When he arrived home, he took the hottest shower he could stand, but although his body was no longer cold, it didn’t do a damn thing about the icicles forming around his heart.

  7

  Fair Haven wasn’t exactly a town with a lot of big events like concerts and festivals, other than the annual pumpkin festival in the fall, but when Jubilee saw on Facebook that a local band was playing at a newly opened club downtown, she bought a ticket without hesitation. She’d somehow managed to go twenty-five years without ever going to a concert, other than some school concert as a kid.

  She considered texting Megan to go with her, but then she decided that she’d rather go alone. She didn’t want to answer any questions. Megan already suspected something was up, especially when Jubilee only told her that her date with Brian had been mediocre at best.

  Brian had texted a few times since their date. Jubilee eventually told him that she wasn’t interested in a second date, although she wished him well. To her relief, he didn’t bother her again. She just hoped she didn’t run into him again.

  Saturday night, she arrived at the concert and found herself in a mass of people that smelled like sweat and marijuana. The room was hazy, and the alcohol flowed without stopping. Jubilee pushed her way through the crowd to the bar, feeling like she’d climbed Mount Everest just to order a cocktail.

  Clutching her drink, she moved back into the crowd. One man with a tattoo on his arm grinned at her. “Hey there,” he drawled, taking a moment to drink in he
r low-cut top that showed off more cleavage than Jubilee was used to.

  Smiling flirtatiously, she replied, “Here for the concert, too?”

  The man laughed. “Is this a concert? I thought I was going to church.”

  “If this is your idea of church, I’m a little concerned.”

  “I’m Peyton. You?”

  “Jubilee.” Jubilee had to shout over the crowd.

  When Peyton was about to reply, the band started playing. He shrugged, but he didn’t move away from Jubilee. He and Jubilee swayed to the music, and Peyton made sure that she never had an empty glass.

  By the end of the show, Jubilee was giggling and yelling at Peyton’s questions, the alcohol making her inhibitions melt away.

  “Are you from here?” she yelled, taking a long sip of her cocktail. The alcohol made her lips and tongue feel fuzzy. I’m drunk, the tiny part of her brain that was still sober said. But she felt too warm, too happy, to care that in the morning, she’d feel like a train had run over her.

  “No, I’m from Spokane! You?” Peyton didn’t seem drunk to Jubilee, but he was also pretty tall. And guys could drink more than girls, she thought with an inner sigh.

  “That’s terrible! I’m sorry!”

  Peyton laughed and snaked an arm around her waist. “How about we get out of here? I’m over this joint.”

  “Okay!”

  Jubilee stumbled out of the club, the cold November air hitting her with a slap. She gasped, but her entire body was so warm already from dancing and drinking that it was like the cold was an afterthought.

  The beat of the music still resounded outside, but when Peyton spoke, she could really hear his voice. She noticed for the first time that he had a goatee, and she was pretty sure all of his tattoos were tribal designs, with a barcode on his right wrist.

  Jubilee tripped over the sidewalk, Peyton catching her. When he put his arms around her, she had the stray thought that she was getting in over her head right now, but then the thought was instantly forgotten.

  “Do you like drinking?” Jubilee blurted before laughing at her own question. “I don’t do it much, but I really should.”

  “I like drinking. I like finding pretty girls even more.” Peyton’s hands roved further south until they squeezed her ass. “Let’s go back to my place.”

  Jubilee’s heart hammered. What had seemed like it was all in good fun was becoming…not quite so fun. Her reaction time was slow, though, and before she knew it, Peyton was pushing up her shirt and about to move one hand to her breasts.

  “No, wait—I shouldn’t be doing this.” She tried to bat his hands away, but it was like a butterfly batting away a python.

  “It’s fine. You’ll have fun. I promise.”

  “No, stop.” Fear started to permeate through the haze of alcohol. She wrenched herself away, almost stumbling again in her haste to get away. She yanked down her shirt as the cold air caressed the bare skin of her abdomen.

  “Come on, don’t be like that.” Peyton pressed closer. “Let’s go back to my place.”

  “I want to go home.”

  Why had she come out here? Why had she encouraged this random guy? She was an idiot, and she was too drunk to get away.

  When Peyton caught her wrist, she felt like a deer, frozen in the headlights.

  “I think she told you to leave her alone.”

  Out of the darkness emerged Heath, his eyes glittering with rage.

  “Hey, man, this isn’t your business. Fuck off.” Despite his annoyance, Peyton let Jubilee go, apparently taking Heath at his word.

  “It’s my business when some asshole manhandles any woman. Get out of here before I rearrange your face.”

  Muttering a curse under his breath, Peyton sauntered off without another word.

  Jubilee rubbed her wrist, although it didn’t hurt. Her heart did a little flip-flop seeing Heath, who always seemed to be in the worst place at the worst time. He always had to see her being stupid, didn’t he?

  “Are you okay?” He took her hand in his, inspecting her wrist. “Did he touch you?”

  “No,” she lied, not interested in getting him angry about Peyton touching her. “I was handling it.”

  “The hell you were.” He tipped her chin up. “Are you drunk?”

  “No.” She tried to walk away, but the sidewalk seemed to reach up to meet her, and she tripped over her own feet. Heath caught her. She was stumbling into all the men tonight, wasn’t she?

  “You’re drunk. I’m taking you home. Did you drive?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You can pick up your car in the morning, then. Come on.”

  Jubilee dug in her heels. “Why do you always do this? Swoop in like some hero and then push me away right afterward?”

  “Come on, Jubi. Not here.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek. The hot press of tears threatened, but she cleared her throat. She was drunk, and once she got home and sobered up, she’d be fine.

  Except that Heath now stood in the silvery moonlight, and it made him seem more handsome. Like some fairy-tale prince come to take her away as his bride.

  “Why are you even here?” she countered as she followed him to his car. “Are you following me?”

  He snorted. “Hardly. I was getting drinks with Harrison and Sara. You’re lucky they already went home. Harrison would freak.”

  She silently acknowledged that statement. Harrison, as the eldest of the Thornton siblings, tended to be overprotective of them, Jubilee especially. It didn’t help that he still didn’t see her as a grown woman instead of the sickly child she’d once been.

  “I don’t need your help,” she said petulantly.

  “Maybe, but I’m giving it anyway.”

  The drive back to her apartment was awkward and silent. Jubilee felt the beginnings of a headache coming on, but she had a feeling it was more from stress than the alcohol.

  “You need to drink some water.” Heath poured her a glass of water when they arrived, making her down it before drinking a second one.

  “Ugh, I want to go to sleep.” Jubilee yawned, and after stripping out of her clothes without caring that Heath was only yards away, she collapsed onto her bed. Within moments, she was fast asleep, not noticing when Heath came into her bedroom and tucked the covers around her.

  * * *

  Heath awoke to the sound of something clattering in the bathroom. Bleary-eyed, he groaned at how stiff his neck had gotten after he’d fallen asleep on Jubilee’s couch. He glanced at the time and yawned. It was four in the morning, and he should head home.

  He’d stayed after Jubilee had gone to bed, telling himself he wanted to make sure she was all right. What if she got sick from drinking too much? Or called up that asshole who’d been manhandling her? He’d decided he’d sleep on her couch until he could be sure she was out of trouble, or so he told himself.

  Now, he shivered and wrapped a blanket around himself. Jubilee’s apartment was absolutely freezing. He flipped on the wall heater right as Jubilee emerged from the bathroom.

  “Oh God, why are you still here?” She groaned and rubbed her eyes. “I thought you went home.”

  “No, I didn’t,” he said, rather lamely. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like my mouth is the Sahara and I’m not sure if I want to puke or just sleep.”

  “Come on, you need to drink some more water. Maybe have a piece of toast.”

  Jubilee didn’t protest, which meant she really was feeling the effects of too much alcohol. Heath couldn’t help but think of when she’d gotten drunk on her twenty-first birthday and given him that lock of hair. Except now that lock of hair was gone, and Jubilee didn’t even remember giving it to him in the first place.

  “Drink up, and have some crackers, too. An empty stomach just makes it worse.”

  Jubilee mumbled something but drank the water in fast gulps. “Ugh. This is why I don’t drink much.”

  “When was the last time you did?” Heath asked, already kn
owing the answer.

  “On my twenty-first birthday. That was way worse than last night, though. I don’t remember half of that night. One second I was taking shots, the next I was home, hugging the toilet.” She shuddered. “Not my greatest moment.”

  Jubilee shivered, and he wrapped the blanket already around his shoulders around hers. Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t pull away. It was a moment of weakness, having her rest her head on his shoulder like this. Maybe it was the darkness or the quiet of the night that made Heath feel like all of his resolutions to stay away from Jubilee were pointless. Or maybe he was just incapable of letting her go.

  “I was there, at your twenty-first,” Heath said quietly.

  Jubilee blinked. “You were? I don’t remember that.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. You were very, very drunk.”

  Red brightened her cheeks. “Oh God, don’t tell me what I did. Was it really stupid? Did I maul you?”

  “Not exactly.” He hesitated, wondering if he was making a mistake in telling her this. “You actually cut your hair.”

  She pulled away to stare at him. “What? Wait, is that why I had that missing piece of hair? I never knew how that had happened!”

  “Apparently you weren’t allowed to cut your hair, and you wanted to. You had the scissors in your bag. Luckily, I persuaded you not to cut it all off in one chunk.”

  Jubilee dropped her head into her hands, groaning. “Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing. And you! You never said a thing!”

  “There didn’t seem to be a reason to.” He swallowed, his mouth dry. “I kept that lock of hair, you know.”

  Silence reigned, and the tension was so thick that Heath could almost physically feel it, like it was cinching his chest. Jubilee stared at the couch, and he almost wondered if she hadn’t heard him.

  “You kept it. You still have it?”