Forever Oregon #2

by Sara Jane Stone

  “I’ll hire you.” Noah ran his hand over his face. “But you need to break the news to your sister. I promised her I’d hire an actual bartender next.”

  “Thanks.” Relief washed over him for the first time since he’d left Lily’s house. Or hell, maybe that was the whiskey. But he’d made the first move toward staying. “And I’ll talk to Josie.”

  Noah turned and pulled the bottle of whiskey down. “If you want my advice, you should go back and talk to Lily. Flat out ask her if she loves you. And then, you better prepare her for the fact that you’re going to let her down from time to time. You’re not perfect.”

  Dominic flexed his right hand. “Yeah, I’m aware of that.”

  “This has jack shit to do with your hand. You had plenty of flaws before you got shot. You were so determined to be the best man you could be for yourself and for Lily that you forgot to be the man Lily needed.”

  “And you think you know what she needs?” Dominic demanded.

  “A man who is willing to fail.”

  “She already has one of those in her life,” Dominic shot back. “Her dad.”

  Noah shook his head. “From where I’m standing, her father didn’t let her down. He never even tried. You came back. And yeah, maybe you messed up. But you can’t make mistakes if you never even show up.”

  The truth sank in and Dominic reached for the bottle. “So you’re saying I should go back and try again?”

  “Not right away, but yeah.” Noah took out a second shot glass and poured a drink. “Give her some space for now. Let her see that she’s fine and safe on her own.”

  Dominic refilled his too. “I’ll give her two days. Then I’m going back.”

  “Good plan. It might help if you clean up a bit. Trim that beard and cut your hair.”

  Dominic nodded. “I’ll need flowers too. Something that doesn’t fit down the garbage disposal.”

  “Can’t help you there.” Noah raised his glass. “But here’s to falling in love and fucking it up.”

  Dominic lifted his. “To love and failure.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  LILY WATCHED THE sun set from her couch. And her sense of security slipped away with it. But she refused to call Dominic. She would stay awake all night if she had to, but she needed to do this on her own. Face her fears. And she had to win this time.

  At midnight, she abandoned her attempts to watch TV. She couldn’t hear potential intruders with the volume turned up and the reality show didn’t make sense without it. She took out her lesson planner and the classroom roster for the upcoming year. She scanned the names. Three Masons and two Penelopes? Did everyone name their children after the Kardashian kids?

  Knock. Knock.

  She jumped, sending the paperwork to the floor. Her mother’s old clock read one in the morning.

  Calm down. Bad guys don’t knock.

  “Dominic?” she called as she walked through the entryway and headed for the door. Who else would come to her door at this hour?

  “No,” a familiar and distinctly female voice called back. “But I know where he is.”

  Lily peered through the peephole and spotted Caroline on the porch. She’d traded her work uniform of baggy shorts and combat boots for fitted blue jeans and sandals. And in her hand she held a square dish.

  My backup bodyguard.

  She undid the chain and flipped the deadbolt. Her nerves were frayed after hours of trying to convince herself that she was safe, that she didn’t need Dominic to feel secure in her own home. She didn’t care that it was the middle of the night. She craved the relief of having another person in the house with her.

  “I know it’s late,” Caroline said. “But I have chocolate fudge brownies.”

  Lily eyed the pan. “Brownies got me into this mess in the first place.”

  “No, a man hurt you,” Caroline said firmly. “Don’t take the blame away from him. And whatever you do, don’t take it out on the baked goods. They’re always on your side.”

  “You’re right.” She stepped back and let Caroline into the house.

  “But if you’re not interested in them,” Caroline said as she marched in and scanned the room. Lily had a feeling the former soldier had located the exits and planned routes to them out of habit. “I’ll eat while you talk.”

  “I’m guessing someone told you that I kicked out the last watch dog Noah and Josie sent over?”

  Caroline nodded. “From what I understand, Dominic stopped by the bar to ask for a job and he’s been taking shots with Noah ever since. When I left, Josie was running the place while her dad watched the baby. I left Josh in charge of the dishwasher and changing kegs. But I’m guessing they’ve already switched to plastic and the place is in chaos. Josie knows how to serve drinks, but she can’t mix them.”

  “I’d be mad at them for sending you over, but I’m too happy to see you,” she admitted.

  “They didn’t send me. I wanted to talk to you.” Caroline lifted the dish just in case Lily’s had forgotten about her offering.

  “Over brownies. OK.” She turned and led the way through the archway and into the living room. “Ignore the mess of paper and make yourself at home. I’ll grab the milk.”

  When she returned, Caroline had the papers arranged in a neat pile and the brownies set out on the coffee table. She had claimed a spot on the floor, close to the treats

  “Did Josh make those?” Lily set the milk on the table and followed her late-­night guest’s lead, settling down on the floor.

  Caroline nodded. “When he brought them over, I asked him out on a date.”

  “Oh, that’s great.” Lily smiled. She only knew pieces of Caroline’s situation, but a date seemed a logical follow-­up to a first kiss. “I’m glad you’re going to get back out there.”

  Caroline selected a brownie from the pan. “It’s taken me that long to feel ready to share a meal with him. Over a year.”

  She had to say something. “Noah didn’t tell me the details,” she said. “But I’ve heard bits here and there, enough to know—­”

  “That I was raped?” she said. “That I spent the rest of my deployment looking over my shoulder waiting for my commanding officer to attack me? That I was more afraid of him than the supposed enemy?”

  “I didn’t . . . I didn’t know the details,” Lily stammered. “That’s awful.”

  “I thought it would destroy me. But . . .” She plucked a large corner brownie from the pan. “Now I’m going on a date. With a man I like and . . .”

  Caroline stared at her brownie as if the baked treat might find the right word for what she felt.

  “Desire?” Lily supplied.

  “Yes.” Caroline looked up at her. “But it took me over a year. And I made a lot of mistakes along the way. There were small victories too. Like the first time I was able to leave the house without pulling my gun on someone.”

  Lily studied the woman sitting cross-­legged on her floor. “Are you armed now?”

  “Noah insists on keeping the guns locked up. I had a few setbacks. Just because I left the house once without getting scared and pulling out my weapon didn’t mean I could repeat that every day.”

  Lily nodded. She knew the lesson ran deeper than don’t give Noah’s friend firearms. “So you’re saying I should give myself more time? Focus on the small victories. That I shouldn’t expect to feel safe and secure on my own this soon?”

  Caroline nodded as she took a bite of her brownie. After chasing it with a sip of milk, she added, “That and there is a drunken former ranger at Big Buck’s who is madly in love with you. He wants to buy you flowers and he’s told anyone who will listen that hell will freeze over before you run them down the garbage disposal.”

  If Dominic brought her flowers, she would keep them. But it would take a lot more than roses to win her trust and her love now. Sh
e’d gone back to him too many times.

  “But underneath all his talk,” Caroline continued, “I think he might need you as much if not more than you need him.”

  Lily set her brownie down. “He doesn’t—­”

  “Someone hurt him too,” Caroline said quietly. “His bad guy had a gun, not a knife, and Dominic walked into the situation knowing he might be attacked, but that still takes something from you. What it steals? That depends on the person.”

  Lily stared out into her brightly lit yard. Caroline was right. Dominic had been hurt too. The bad guy with the gun—­the terrorist—­had stolen away his hopes and dreams for the future. He’d blown away Dominic’s identity and left him lost. And after that . . . well, she could forgive him for not coming back to her. Because she knew that it wasn’t easy to pull yourself back together. “If we’re both so broken, I don’t know if we can help each other,” she said slowly. “There are things I need from him.”

  Trust. A promise that he’ll stay. . .

  “Do you love him?”

  She nodded. “I think I always have, even when I was so mad at him I wanted to throw things. But I’m not sure that’s enough anymore.”

  “You don’t have to decide now,” Caroline said as she nudged the pan toward Lily. “Have another brownie first.”

  LILY WALKED UP the porch steps cradling a brown paper bag overflowing with school supplies and feeling like she’d won a series of small victories. She’d taken a shower that morning while alone in the house and she hadn’t panicked when she’d closed her eyes. At first. She’d opened them too soon and felt the sting of shampoo, but still, one baby step forward.

  She’d stopped by the school and chatted with her coworkers—­without bumping into Ted, thank goodness. Then she’d gone out to pick up a few extras for her classroom. And the entire time, she’d felt safe and in control.

  Her smile faded as soon as she reached the top step and stared at the door. If Dominic were here, he’d go in ahead of her and search her home.

  Welcoming him back so that I feel safe—­that’s not fair to either of us. And I don’t think that’s love.

  But she’d eaten three brownies last night and she still didn’t know if the love she felt for Dominic would help her find her way forward—­or break her. She didn’t want to depend on him—­or anyone else—­to hold her together. And while holding boxes of crayons, sheets of stickers, and enough finger paint to redecorate every wall in her house, she couldn’t risk falling apart. School started in two weeks. She had to be ready to greet her new class of kindergarten students.

  This morning, when she had looked in the mirror, she’d seen only a faint hint of the ugly red cut on her face. One layer of makeup and it disappeared. She would look the part of the calm, welcoming teacher on the first day—­as long as the emotional scars didn’t betray her.

  But what was the worst that could happen? She would ask her assistant to take over the class while she took a quick break for a panic attack? And what could possibly set her off at the school? She’d always felt safe there. She didn’t need a former soldier checking behind her classroom door or looking under the child-­sized desks.

  She shifted the bag to her right arm and reached into the pocket of her capri-­length pink pants for her keys. Today was a day for victories. Her bright white short-­sleeve shirt, her pink pants, every piece of her day screamed sunshine and success. And when she unlocked the door, when she walked inside, she would be fine—­

  “Ms. Greene? Lily Greene?”

  Her hand froze in her pocket. Panic surged at the sound of that familiar voice. She’d heard it twice before. The memories came rushing back, two pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t been able to connect until now. You ruined everything—­what the man currently standing on her porch said to her the day he sliced her arms, her face, and her stomach. The day he cut away her confidence in the world around her. And Ms. Greene, I’m here to pick up my son.

  She closed her eyes. She didn’t need Dominic watching over her at the elementary school. She needed him here. Now. Hearing that voice, she knew her reasons for sending him away were foolish. She would trust Dominic to save her life, always and forever.

  I need him to save me right now!

  But he wasn’t here. And that wasn’t his failure. It was hers. She’d cast him away. There was no one here to help her now. No one to keep her safe. She would need to do it herself.

  “Ms. Greene, I need to talk to you.”

  She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to see him again.

  “Turn around and talk to me!” he barked. Anger and desperation seeped through his words.

  She wanted to run away. But she knew she wouldn’t win by trying to escape. If he’d dared to approach her again, she doubted he’d come empty handed.

  Slowly, her arm tightening around the school supplies, she turned and faced the man who’d haunted her nightmares for the past six weeks.

  “Mr. Stanton,” she said, looking first at his familiar dark brown eyes, the ones she’d expected to see on the mug shot Dominic handed her. But that didn’t matter now. Whether she was right . . . none of it mattered. Because this time Louis Stanton wasn’t wielding a knife.

  This time he had a gun.

  The minutes seemingly slowed as she watched the man with the lethal weapon stand on her front porch in broad daylight and demand to talk to her.

  “How can I help you?” Her shaking voice betrayed the imminent, pulse-­pounding fear that her next breath would be her last. Any moment, he would pull the trigger. Any second—­

  “Open the door,” he said. He wasn’t shouting now, but the note of desperation remained. And it sent a chill down her spine. “I need to talk to you inside,” he added.

  She gave a curt nod. “I have to unlock the door.”

  “Now,” he growled.

  She saw the tension ripple through his forearm. And she dropped the bag of school supplies. Small containers of plastic finger paint rolled over the wooden boards. Crayons spilled out of boxes. And sheets of Great Job! and You’re a Star! stickers stared up at her.

  She reached into her pocket and withdrew her keychain. Her hand shook and she approached the lock. But she managed to insert the key. As she turned it, she realized that if she survived, she would never feel safe again. Not on the street, in the park, at her home, or even in the classroom where she’d planned to hand out the You’re a Star! stickers.

  But her safety had always been an illusion. Her sense of security could be ripped away in an instant. She’d been so determined to heal after her first encounter with Mr. Stanton that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding out for something she didn’t really need. There was only one thing this man could never take from her.

  Love.

  She’d been a fool not to fall back in love with Dominic, to hold tight to him, and fight for an imperfect future with him.

  She stepped into the hall and stole a quick glance at the wall Dominic had pressed her up against only a few days ago.

  “Ms. Greene.”

  She turned to face the man who’d uprooted her life. He’d closed the door behind him, leaving the school supplies strewn across her porch. But he didn’t bother turning the lock.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead. And for the first time, she noticed his suit and tie. Even his black dress shoes shone as if he’d polished them that morning. Had he dressed up for this? To come here and kill her?

  “I need to talk to you,” he continued. His voice shook, but his hand holding the gun remained steady.

  Dominic, Noah, Ryan—­they’d logged hours at the gun range. But she’d only held a gun once. She could tell the difference between the small handgun in Louis Stanton’s hand and a hunting rifle. But beyond that, she didn’t have a clue. Had Louis released the safety? Did his weapon even have one? How could she stop him from pulling the trigger?

/>   “I need your help,” he said.

  Her world felt as if it had turned over. It was no longer a question of whether she’d been right about her attacker returning for her. Or if the police, Dominic’s father, and even Dominic were correct in assuming the man who’d cut her in the park was crazy. They’d all been right. Louis Stanton had been after her. It wasn’t random. And he was nuts.

  “But . . .” she sputtered. “You attacked—­”

  “I was angry.”

  No kidding.

  “They’re going to take him away. My son. And it’s your fault.” He spoke as if he were accusing her of taking his parking place. His voice remained calm and clear. The same tone he’d used when she’d handed him the forms to file with the front office if he wished to pick up his child . . .

  “Mr. Stanton, there’s nothing I can do.” Her tone mirrored his surreal calm as if she could talk her way out of this, as if he wasn’t pointing a gun at her in her own home. “I don’t know anything about custody—­”

  “Call the judge,” he demanded. “Now. Tell her you were wrong. Tell her I never tried to take my son from school. I didn’t violate the custody agreement. I wasn’t trying to kidnap him. I didn’t try to see him without a court-­appointed supervisor!”

  Her eyes widened. “Mr. Stanton—­”

  “It’s all lies,” he snapped. “You have to tell the judge. She’s deciding today. I know she’s going to take my ex’s side. They’re saying I tried to kidnap him from school and from the playground. I took him out of state once, but . . . I didn’t kidnap my son. He’s mine.”

  His emphasis on the last word made her shudder.

  “I can’t go back there until you fix what you started,” he added. “My bitch of an ex started petitioning the judge again after I showed up at school. You told her I’d been there.”

  If she hadn’t told her student’s mom, Lily bet her son would have said something. But Mr. Stanton blamed her. He was holding her at gunpoint in the middle of the day while dressed in a suit.