Mend the Seams (Buried Secrets #3)

by Silla Webb

  Once Brailee concludes her lesson before her peers, we make our way to the picnic shelter for lunch. Brailee climbs into the picnic table and huffs loudly like she’s been shovelin’ out the stalls all day. “You did good back there, baby girl.” I wink at her as I pass out lunches to the kids.

  “Thanks, Momma.” She smiles lightly. “Ya think Buttercup is alright?”

  “Yeah, honey, I think she’s happy. I know you miss her.” Brailee shrugs it off as she turns her attention to her lunch.

  Once the kids finish up eatin’, we head to the playground to let them burn off some energy before returning to school to finish out their day. Brailee and Braden race each other to the airplane slide just like they always do. I take a seat on the empty bench resting my tired feet, but keep a close eye on the kids as they play. Feeling like eyes are on me, I glance around the gravel playground in search for Drew. My eyes fall upon a click of moms standing about eight feet away, sneering in my direction as they whisper amongst themselves. Recognizing Lynda Russell, I toss a small wave in her direction then turn my eyes back in search of the kids. Damn gossipers. Let ‘em talk. My life is none of their concern, but judging by the glares and long faces they keep sending my way, I’m sure the sight of pity is upon them. It isn’t long before Lynda approaches me.

  “Well Savannah Moore, that is you. How have you been?” Lynda pulls me into a quick hug before twisting around and sitting beside me – uninvited might I add.

  Plastering a stiff smile across my face, I turn in her direction. “I’m great, Lynda. I didn’t realize you were chaperoning today.”

  “Well of course! I am the homeroom Momma after all.” She scoffs offensively.

  “Well Mrs. Cumpton sure is blessed to have you at her disposal.”

  She smiles warmly, enjoying the recognition she receives for her volunteer work. It’s all very rewarding, I’ve always volunteered for every class trip and party, but Momma’s like Lynda make it an all-out competition on who can one up the other. “I certainly hope I can expect your assistance at the class Halloween Extravaganza. I’ve almost got Mrs. Cumpton talked into letting us begin the party right after lunch. We have so many crafts planned, the kids will be decorating cookies, telling scary stories, then of course there is the school Halloween parade. Oh it will be so much fun!” She continues to ramble on, and I smile and nod ignoring every word she speaks. Yada yada yada!

  Her two friends approach us with timid smiles and stand listening to Lynda ramble on and on before she finally brakes for air. “Oh Savannah, let me introduce you to Christina Coleman and Dawn Bentley. Their children are in Mrs. Abrams’ class where Christina is the homeroom Momma.” Oh here we go again with the competition bullshit. Heavens to mercies ladies, it’s third grade! I bite my tongue plastering on that same fake as hell smile I offered Lynda.

  The ladies are quick to make gossip about another Momma who passes by, but I keep my lips zipped. Absolutely petty behavior from grown ass women who have nothing better to do than keep their noses in others asses. Turning my head from their view, I inhale a frustrated breath while rolling my eyes.

  “Savannah, I must say you are doing much better than I expected. Good for you!” Lynda says sadly, her lip turned up slightly as she tries to look endearing.

  “Yes, I must say I admire your courage.” Christina tsks. “When Lynda told us about your marriage I was shocked any woman stuck it out as long as you had. Luckily you made it out before you got dragged into his legal troubles. Smart woman.”

  What? Am I really hearing these women correctly?

  I smile curiously, allowing them to carry on their conversation. Hell, seems like they know more about my situation than even I do.

  “But you know I don’t think I could have given up my home like that, now. No, that would have been a fight.” Lynda says, Christina and Dawn in agreement, spurring her on. “Everyone handles situations differently, however. Then again, I think I’d been wise enough not to get into that mess.” Lynda says and she realizes her mistake the moment the words leave her mouth. My brow raises as my gentle smile fades and I can feel that resting bitch face that I’ve been practicing in the mirror take its place. Fury snakes up my spine, but I calmly remind myself that I’m at a third grade field trip. Can’t exactly be goin’ all Carly Jo Simon on these bitches here and now, can I?

  “Girls, bless ya hearts!”Just couldn’t resist could ya? “Let me offer you some sound advice.” I say, leaning in towards Dawn and Christina. They look at each other nervously, then lean in to me. “Rumors are carried by haters, spread by fools and believed by idiots. I do believe I’d find myself a new pack of friends if I were you gals. Last I checked I left high school in 2005, so this idol gossip y’all are dealin’ in is highly unbecoming of you.” All of their mouths drop wide in shock. Leaning back, I square my shoulders to stand then walk away proudly. Kill ‘em with kindness, darlin’.

  I knew rumors would fly in this small town, but never expected anyone to be brazen enough to openly discuss my troubles among others as if I weren’t even sitting there! But Lynda Russell has always been a snide bitch, runnin’ her fat lips to anyone within ear shot. Damn bitch tormented the hell out of me through high school. Never a restless day with her.

  I make my way over to Mrs. Cumpton and help her gather up the students, lining them up and tapping their heads as I count silently to myself. Once the kids are all accounted for, I kiss Brailee and Braden goodbye, promising to take them for ice cream after school.

  “Who has homework?” I ask as I pull into the garage.

  “Field trip, Momma. No homework, ‘member?” Braden asks.

  “Great! Go straight inside, put your things away then get ready for bed, okay, munchkins?” I load my arms down with groceries, trying my best to carry everything in on one trip. Brailee and Braden climb out of the SUV, toting their backpacks alongside of them. They kick their shoes off by the door, then toss their backpacks down in the living room floor as they carry their tired little legs upstairs. So much for putting your things away, kids! I kick the backpacks out of my way, careful not to trip over them on my way into the kitchen. I unload the groceries then pop a Kahula cartridge into the Keurig and smile to myself when the strong roasted scent evades my senses. I take a moment to enjoy a small sip, then venture off upstairs to help the kids get ready for bed.

  They are worn out. After picking them up from school, we went to the library to check out a few new books, had dinner at the Village Diner, and then made a quick stop at the grocery store for our weekly essentials. Our evening concluded with hand dipped ice cream cones on the way home. When I reach the top of the stairs, Brailee is in the bathroom brushing her teeth while Braden is laying out his clothes for the next day. Ever the little planner, Braden is the most organized and responsible eight year old you’ll meet.

  Brailee finishes up in the bathroom, then picks a book from the bookshelf before making her way into my bedroom. Braden trails in a few minutes later piling under the king size, fluffy comforter. This has become a nightly routine for us. After reading the first two pages light snores fill the room as exhaustion finds them quickly. Kissing them both on their foreheads, I climb out of bed and head back downstairs to my fresh cup of coffee and my Kindle. It’s still fairly early and there is nothing better to do.

  As soon as my feet hit the bottom step I realize something is…off. I swallow back the fear that’s suddenly clawing its way out of my chest, appearing out of nowhere. I grab my coffee from the kitchen, checking that the back door is locked. Stepping into the living room a rack of tremors encase me as the air seizes from my lungs. The coffee cup plunges to the floor and I stand stock still frozen in fear. Orange and gold flames dance about in the fireplace, the kindling crackles and sizzles from the intense heat. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I drag my heavy feet toward the front door, surprised to see the lock secured. Panic sets in and I rush about the house, checking the other doors and windows, looking inside the bedrooms, closets, and un
der the beds for intruders. But everything appears secure. I peek in on Brailee and Braden, then make my way back to the living room.

  Sitting down on the couch, I pull my knees to my chest and watch the blazing flames flicker in wonderment. How did someone get inside my home to start a fire? My mind races back and forth, creating various scenarios that calm me momentarily then sends a wave of shock coursing through me as I imagine the worst.

  And the worst it is.

  My eyes skate around the room nervously when they suddenly land on the mantle. A gold foil envelope rest against the candlestick. I climb off the couch, snatching the envelope from the mantle, ripping it open instantly. The paper is classy and rich with a gold trim. Neatly printed in bold it reads:

  “For your sins will be extinguished in the flames of my wrath.”

  I read the words over and over, trying to make sense of the passage, when suddenly it all becomes perfectly clear.

  Chapter Twelve

  Of all the time I’ve known Drew Varney, the side that I’m seeing of him now terrifies me. He’s always been kind and endearing, but seeing his true colors, the monster within him is eye opening. I guess I was always blind to the ugliness of the world, living with rose colored glasses because the darkest evil has lived among me my entire life and I never realized it.

  I have no idea how Drew got inside my home, but realizing he has access to my life so easily panics me. How did he get a key? How many times has he been inside of my house? Why is he taunting me like this? How can I protect my children when he’s unescapable? A manic frenzy ensues as my feet move on their own accord, shuffling back and forth across the hardwood floors, muttering to myself. I pace and I pace, then sit when my legs grow tired, staring into the fiery flames, then continue to pace to steady my thoughts. I cry as fear of the unknown grasps me. What the hell is this supposed to mean?

  “For your sins will be extinguished in the flames of my wrath.”

  I search through my memory, going back to the night Drew appeared on my porch swing.

  “Savannah, heed my warning. I know what’s best.” I remember him saying, urging me not to visit Josh at the county jail. Was this his subtle way of threatening me for going against his will? Why did it matter if I visited Josh? My mind swirls back and forth, trudging through muddled thoughts as I try to process everything. This is one sick and twisted game they’ve been playing and I still can’t wrap my head around any of it.

  A shrilling buzz startles me and I stop mid-stride listening cautiously for the sound. Beams of golden sunlight sparkle against the ceiling and I realize I’ve paced the floors lost in thought and terror all night long. The alarm on my phone continues to shrill so I pad over to the coffee table switching it off.

  I waste no time starting our morning. I wake the kids up with my usual singsong “Goood Moooorrrnning!” careful not to alert them to my worry. I cook them breakfast, chocolate chip waffles and turkey bacon, complete with apple juice and grapes. After packing their lunches and gathering their backpacks I drive them to school, carrying on our morning routine like always. Only today, I’m cautiously glancing over my shoulder looking for Drew. Every black vehicle that approaches causes my heart to flutter, then I remember Drew doesn’t have just one vehicle and he’s likely to be driving any of them.

  Pulling in the drop off lane, I kiss both the kids and promise to pick them up as usual. Part of me wants to take them back home, lock them away in my bedroom with me protecting them the best way I know how, but I know that’s not the logical thing to do. I can’t evoke any more fear in the kids than what they already deal with. They hop out of the SUV and make their way up the sidewalk waving cheerfully as they enter the school. I know they’re safe there. The school remains locked at all times and Drew has never been on their approved sign out list. There has never been any reason warranted for him to be. Besides, I know in my heart that as twisted as he may be, he’d never do Brailee and Braden any harm….would he?

  Just how deep seated is his hatred for our family? How corrupt and deranged is he to continue these games, as if toying with peoples’-innocent children’s’ – lives is acceptable? I want to confront Drew and demand answers from him, but he’s played this game so long, approaching him will only play me into his hands. It will show him that he’s induced the fear he seeks from me and he’ll gain far too much pleasure from such a simple, innocent act.

  I consider taking the letter to the police, but Drew has half the County and State Police in his back pocket. Besides, there is no way to connect the letter directly to him, right now this is merely an assumption. Don’t wanna make an ass of ya self there, sweets.

  Pulling into Carly’s driveway, I throw the SUV in park quickly before jumping down and racing inside her house without knocking.

  “Well come on in, Sis. Door’s open!” She says sarcastically. She places Ryleigh down in the swing and sways over to the kitchen to gather some coffee for us.

  The words just spew from my mouth like projectile vomit and the more I talk, the louder I get. The louder I get the angrier I become. Carly stares at me wildly, allowing my tantrum to continue until the sobs break free and not a word I speak can be understood. I have no idea how long I last, but right now as goose bumps blanket my flesh and the fear clutches me so fiercely that icy shivers rack my body – I feel completely insane – unhinged like a mad woman. I’ve consumed all my weak body can manage and like a Roman candle on Independence Day I burst into a thousand different directions, lighting up crazily with my flood of emotions.

  “You have got to catch your breath and explain to me what happened.” She pleads with me and when I open my mouth to speak the words refuse to come, but the tears continue to fall. I ball up in the corner of the couch, wrapping my arms around my knees securely and let my imagination run freely. All I see is the wild flames dancing freely in the fireplace.

  “Savannah.” I hear Carly call out to me, but I don’t have the strength to reply. “SAVANNAH! Damn it, look at me.” My eyes trail to hers and apparently, whatever she sees scares her shitless. She grabs the phone off the end table and I can hear her yelling into the receiver, huffing in frustration when Ryleigh begins to whimper. She slams the phone down, then gently picks Ryleigh up from the swing and bounces on the balls of her feet as she hums sweetly, patting Ryleigh’s tush. I watch her prance around, swaddling the baby closely to her chest.

  It’s a mesmerizing beauty, watching a Momma interact so lovingly with her child. We’re created with an instinct to protect our babies regardless of what harm they may cross. I feel helpless because I’m so unsure of what we face. Drew is unpredictable.

  Once she’s confident that Ryleigh is resting, she disappears down the hallway but returns only moments later. She rakes her fingers through her hair, then ties it on top of her head in a messy pony tail. She kneels in front of me and gently brushes the hair from my face. “Sis, you’re scaring me. I think you need some help. Please tell me what I can do to help, Savannah.” Her tone is saddening and I know Carly would walk through Hell’s fire and brimstone for me and my kids, but there is something about that tone, perhaps the pity in her voice that sets me ablaze.

  Springing from the couch I laugh manically, suddenly finding my voice. I throw my hands in the air and give that verbal vomit a second try, but this time there is no mistaking my words. They ring out clear as crystal, spit with poisonous venom. “Help? You think I need some help? Well aren’t you oh so frickin’ clever, Carly! YES. I need help! I possibly need a damn padded room, a Straight jacket too! How the hell could I not with everything I’ve been through. I’m literally falling apart at the seams and the worst part of it all is I have no one here to catch me.”

  “Savannah, please for the love of God and all things holy, tell me what has you so distressed. I understand things are rough right now but you will get through it! You -”

  “Get through it?” I cut her off barking my words at her harshly. “Carly, a flat tire, you get through. Fallin’ on hard ti
mes, you get through. But when you’re bein’ drowned at the bottom of the damned barrel and each time your body surfaces to the top you’re shoved back down only to suffocate until you begin to fade…please tell me how the hell you get through that?”

  Carly stares back at me with wide eyes, but she never says a word. My feet begin to carry me, trailing that same path I trailed last night, wearing damn holes in the carpet as the cluttered thoughts slip from my tongue in low whispers. I hear a rumble in the distance growing closer, but I dismiss it as an eighteen wheeler haulin’ a load. The screen door slams and I hear Colton yell, “What the hell is goin’ on?” as Carly shuffles alongside him. I pay him no mind, just continue to pace, trying to figure out how to keep my kids safe. How did I get into this mess again? I hear faint whispers then stomping against the floor.

  Suddenly Colton grips my arms in his hands, pulling me roughly towards his chest. My eyes grow wide and fearful as I gaze up at his chocolate brown eyes. His eyes are full of anger and worry, reflecting my own. “What’s goin’ on with you, Savannah? You gotta talk to me.” My eyes feel puffy and tired. I know I should answer Colton, but I’ve told Carly what was wrong twice and she won’t listen. Why the hell should I repeat myself? “C’mon, girl. You gotta talk to me.” I stare back at him as my body shakes like a leaf, fear trembling all through me so hard my teeth clatter together.

  He keeps his grip on my arms and pulls me over to the couch, down beside him. “She’s freezing to death. Get her a blanket, Carly Jo. Has she said anything?” Colton asks her, rubbing his large hands up and down my arms.

  “She just busted in here and started yelling. Then she balled up and began to cry.” She reaches Colton a blanket and he raises me forward, wrapping it around me before tucking me back into his side. “When I tried to talk to her she flipped out, shoved me back on my ass and started yelling about Josh, Drew and Luke. Nothing she was saying was making sense. She said men all continue to fail her and they’re all unsafe. I don’t know what she means, Colton, but I’m so worried about her. Should we take her to the hospital?”