by Mandy Baggot
He looked at his watch and then heard a tentative knock on the front door.
Cole opened the door and Robyn pushed him inside. She grabbed hold of his hands and put them on her hips. She kissed him, pushing him down onto the floor of the hallway. She wanted to get as close to him as she could. She pulled his t-shirt over his head and looked appreciatively at the firm, muscular chest underneath. She ran her fingers down, across his sternum to the waistband of his jeans.
Cole stopped her, taking hold of her hand and squeezing it in his.
She looked into his eyes, those deep, dark eyes. She kissed his lips again, closing her eyes and savoring every second of how it felt to lose herself in someone, without any questions or recriminations. Without anyone having to get up and go home.
Cole brought her fingers to his mouth and softly kissed each knuckle in turn. His gentleness was too much to bear, and she drew herself away, let him go and got to her feet, sweeping her hair back out of her face.
“Sorry about the whole leaving you in the supermarket thing. How much do I owe you for the food?” Robyn asked.
“Nothing, it’s fine. They had a special offer on the ice cream,” Cole answered, getting to his feet.
“So, can I help put it away? I mean, I like things ordered a certain way and, although you might think that’s a bit freaky, you really need to just let me do it because…” Robyn began, heading into the kitchen.
“It’s done. Look, do you want coffee, or a beer or something?” Cole offered.
“Don’t you have to get back to work? Don’t you have some deadly diseases to cure this afternoon?” Robyn asked, opening the fridge and looking at the groceries.
“I have assistants for that if I can’t make it,” Cole answered, his eyes not leaving her.
“Oh,” Robyn said not knowing what else to say.
“What happened back there, Robyn? You took off like you were doing the hundred meters in the Olympics,” Cole said as Robyn closed the fridge and leaned against the countertop, trying to avoid his gaze.
“I saw someone I didn’t want to see,” she admitted, biting her lip.
“Who? An ex or something?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Then who?”
“You don’t want to know. The last thing you want to hear about is my messed up past. I mean, you know about my useless mother and my ill dad and my love of ancient old cars. I think that’s about enough for anyone,” Robyn said with an unconvincing laugh of nerves.
“I also know you kiss me when you want to lose yourself in something…when you need to escape your life for a second,” Cole told her.
He hadn’t put his t-shirt back on yet, and his body was just there, he was just there, looking like he did, attracting her with all his Freddie Prinze Jr. similarities.
“Robyn, at the moment you know more about me than anyone round here. We’re friends already and we’re living together. I’m exactly the person who needs to know, and Robyn, I want to know,” Cole spoke.
“I saw Jason, Grant’s son,” Robyn blurted out, putting her fingers to her mouth and chewing her nails.
“Okay, and you’re upset because…”
“Because…before I left for England…he raped me,” Robyn admitted, swallowing a knot of tears as her stomach contracted in remembrance.
Cole let out a long, slow, almost inaudible breath, but his expression gave all of his feelings away. Robyn saw a flicker of anger and then something like pain in his eyes as he looked at her. He put his t-shirt back on and pulled it straight, as if being topless was inappropriate.
He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her protectively into his embrace. He began stroking her hair so softly.
She shut her eyes for a second and enjoyed the feeling of being held.
She could just relax into him, she could let out a breath and all the tension might slip away. He would probably hold her for as long as she needed him to, maybe even forever. She just had to let him in.
She pulled away suddenly, like she’d been jarred by something, and she shook her head vigorously.
“No, don’t. I don’t want you to do that. Don’t be nice to me like that. I couldn’t stand it,” Robyn said, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Did he go to jail?” Cole asked, watching her.
“Yeah, four years.”
“Is that all?!”
“Yeah. That’s all you get for raping someone and reminding the whole town about how in olden times apparently that’s what they used to do to the witches round here. And now he’s back, just when I’m back,” Robyn said, her hands trembling as she held them together.
“Well, he can’t be allowed near you, can he?” Cole asked.
“I don’t know. I saw him, it freaked me out, you saw me, you said it yourself—I did a world record breaking sprint out of the shop,” Robyn said.
“And is that why you give Grant a hard time?”
“Do I give him a hard time?”
“A little. But now that I know, it’s understandable. I mean, his son did that to you. Man, where was he when that was all going on?”
“I know it isn’t his fault, but when I look at him, all I can see is Jason. I’m messed up right?”
“No, you’re not. It’s horrific what he did. Seeing him again, I can’t imagine…” Cole began.
“Everyone around here knew, you know, and they all looked at me with pity in their eyes. They treated me like someone who had had their insides scooped out and should now be left alone and put in a secure room lined with cotton wool. Well, most of them thought that, some thought I should be ducked in the lake because I was obviously a descendant from the last witch brought to justice in the town in 1898. I could never be Robyn again, and that’s all I ever wanted to be, just Robyn. Now, I was Robyn who’d been violated, not the same person at all. That’s why I left. That, and the fact my own mother couldn’t even look at me. I think she thought moving to England would kind of cleanse me, or maybe cleanse her. She was a great one for making herself the victim. Anyway, she wanted someone cleansed, it didn’t really matter who. She said the word a lot. She said it so much, I almost felt like I was clean from hearing it—almost,” Robyn carried on, tears running down her cheeks.
“What this Jason did to you is the worst thing anyone can do to another human being. You know that, right?” Cole told her, taking hold of her shaking hand.
“No, that’s murder.”
“You’ll never forget it. You’re going to carry it around for the rest of your life.”
“Thanks, like I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant stuff like that does change you, it’s no use pretending otherwise.”
“But I should be moving on, it should have dulled by now. That’s what everyone thinks and that’s definitely what Sarah thinks,” Robyn said, holding his hand.
“To Hell with what everyone thinks. It’s how you feel that’s important,” Cole assured her.
“Sarah didn’t get it.”
“I do. I get it,” Cole told her.
Robyn looked up at him and let herself have a moment in his ebony eyes. He was so genuine, so comforting, so different from anything she’d had in the past.
“Well, so, there we go,” Robyn said, breaking the tension. “Which camp are you in? Want to wrap me in cotton wool or duck me in the lake?”
She wiped her eyes with her fingers and side-stepped away from him.
“Both sound kind of fun,” Cole admitted with a smile.
“Listen, all you’ve done since we met is listen to me prattle on about my baggage. Tell me about your issues, I don’t know nearly enough about you, and you still haven’t let me talk to your mother. I’m concerned by that,” Robyn said.
“Veronica’s having my brother’s baby,” Cole informed her, his lips tight as he formed the words.
“Whoa!”
“And you wanted to know about the fight we had. Well, I put him in hospital
, broke his nose, his collarbone, and four ribs,” Cole continued.
“I knew it.”
“Then I smashed up his Porsche and poured bleach all over his apartment.”
“Way to go.”
“My mother, the one I will let you talk to the next time she calls, cried for days when I said I was leaving. Half of her wants to cut Bryn off because of what he did to me, but she doesn’t want to miss out on a grandchild. I can understand that, but it still hurts, you know.”
“Could the baby be yours?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m a scientist, Robyn. I deal with diseases every day. I know better. You get what I’m saying?”
“Loud and clear. So where the Hell does Veronica get off texting you after all that?” Robyn wanted to know.
“She wants me to make up with Bryn, for the baby’s sake.”
“The audacity!”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So what did you say?”
“Nothing. I’ve nothing to say to either of them anymore,” Cole informed her.
“Did you love her?”
“You know, I don’t know. I don’t know whether I was mad because she’d broken our trust or just mad because it was Bryn she broke it with.”
“Well, I’d move on, it’s the only way. Besides, you have an ice hockey team to focus on, and I’m going to need your help with the roadhouse and—shit! The interviews! I’ve got to get back to the roadhouse, I’m interviewing staff,” Robyn exclaimed, looking at her watch and rushing toward the door.
“Hey, Robyn, wait! Here, I got you these,” Cole called to her, waving something in the air.
“Keys?”
“To the house. Next time you storm out of a store, at least you can come home,”
“Thanks. And thanks for listening and…well, you know,” Robyn replied, smiling at him.
“Anytime.”
“You might regret saying that, I’m a woman with many projects.”
“And a woman with a whole freezer drawer dedicated to ice cream,” Cole reminded her.
He sat down at the kitchen table and put his knuckles to his mouth. Someone had raped her. Someone had had sex with her against her will. Someone had forced themselves on her, when she would have been scared and screaming for help. They had violated her and left her with an indelible memory that would always try to shape her future. No wonder she had run from the store if her attacker had been right in front of her. Hell, he wished he had seen him. He thumped his fist on the table and tried to quell the bubble of anger burning in his gut. People like that took things that weren’t theirs to have, and they didn’t care. They knew what they were doing was wrong, but they did it anyway, regardless of the consequences. They took advantage—just like Bryn had.
Chapter Sixteen
“So, Grimalda, let me just check that I’ve got all your details correct. You haven’t worked a bar before, but you used to make coffee in the office and you went to the store for doughnuts, so you’re used to dealing with money,” Robyn said, trying not to look too hard at the young girl with dreadlocks who sat opposite her.
She had three studs in her nose and a variety of gold earrings in a line up each ear. She was also wearing a t-shirt stating the slogan “You Suck” and her tattered jeans were being held together with safety pins.
“Uh, huh,” Grimalda replied, chewing gum and smiling at Milo.
“Okay, well, I think that’s all I need for now. I’ve got your number, so I’ll be in touch,” Robyn said, standing up and offering her hand to the girl.
“So have I got the job? I could start right now, but I’d have to leave about eight—band practice,” she informed them, shaking Robyn’s hand and then taking her gum out and putting it behind her ear.
“We’ve got a few more people to see. I’ll call you,” Robyn said, leading the way to the exit.
“Awesome. Catch you later,” Grimalda responded, directing another smile at Milo.
Robyn waited for her to leave and then let out a shriek of despair.
“Shit, Milo! What’s happened to this town? Why are there no decent bar workers within a fifty mile radius? She was grimy! Larry was so old he would’ve needed to sit behind the bar to serve, Julie wanted to bring her kids to work, Sapphire had ideas above her station and thought this was a cocktail lounge, and as for Teresa…well, if she’s twenty-one, the Panthers are going to beat Reading six zero on Saturday,” Robyn exclaimed.
“Sapphire wasn’t so bad,” Milo replied, looking at his notes.
“And what did you make notes on? Nice hair? Slim and pretty? You would…” Robyn glared at him.
“She had worked a bar before,” Milo reminded her.
“I think you’ll find she said she was a ‘drinks coordinator.’ She couldn’t even bring herself to say bartender. No, she wouldn’t last in a roadhouse. It’s going to be busy, Milo, full of families pre-nine and then full of people wanting a beer and some good music after that. And she wanted to make cocktails. We are not doing cocktails. My dad would have another heart attack if he came back here and found me serving margaritas,” Robyn informed.
The front door swung open and Nancy strutted in, dressed in a short, gold sequined skirt and a barely there strappy vest in the same shade.
“Afternoon,” she greeted with a smile, approaching Robyn and Milo.
“What are you doing here?” Robyn questioned.
“I hear you’re holding interviews,” Nancy replied, sitting down in the interviewee’s chair.
“Yes. And?”
“Fire away. Interview me. There’s nothing about this place I don’t know,” Nancy replied confidently.
“You want to work here—for me,” Robyn said, staring at the woman.
“I saw your dad today, he thinks you need help,” Nancy answered.
“Well, I don’t.”
“Robyn, you’ve hated everyone we’ve seen,” Milo reminded her.
“Not everyone. Larry was okay; we could get him a stool,” Robyn suggested.
“Listen, kiddo, whether you like it or not, me and Eddie are for keeps. I’m gonna be your step-mom and, I figured we should be getting to know each other better,” Nancy told her.
“Really. That’s what you think, is it?”
“That’s what Eddie thinks and it’s what he wants. Okay, so I didn’t do such a great job of running this place, perhaps I took on more than I was capable of, and maybe Eddie deciding not to do food any more was a mistake. None of that means I don’t know my way around a bar,” Nancy continued.
“She’s good, Robyn, fast too, and the guys like her,” Milo chipped in.
“What about the kids? Can you serve them chicken and fries without scaring them half to death or suffocating them with your perfume?” Robyn wanted to know.
“Give me a trial. I don’t come up to scratch, you can let me go,” Nancy replied unfazed.
“Why are you doing this?” Robyn asked, looking at her suspiciously.
“I love Eddie and you’re his blood. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a heart-warming reunion story. That and the fact I watched him eat a whole plate of salad at lunchtime. I’ve no doubt that was your doing,” Nancy told her.
“He’s never eaten salad on its own! You must have missed the fries. He hid them. Did you blink, like, at all? Did you check under Max’s sheets?” Robyn asked.
“So do I get the job?” Nancy wanted to know.
Robyn looked at Milo, who was vigorously moving his head up and down like a rocking horse.
“We have a uniform now. Let me know your chest and waist measurements. I want no biker gangs, no drugs, no funny business at all. And you answer to me and, when I’m not around, you answer to Milo. Can you handle that?” Robyn asked her firmly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Nancy replied.
“And no sarcasm, at all—none,” Robyn retorted.
“Who was being sarcastic? So, shall I call you Boss Lady?”
That afterno
on he’d received a report from Chicago, results he’d been waiting on for weeks. He’d been so sure of this trial, so convinced this was a breakthrough. When he read the findings, he’d wanted to weep. Maggie and Aaron had both watched him read the email, although she had made a good effort at pretending to clean her workstation. He’d wanted to cry and smash everything on the counter. But he’d chewed the inside of his mouth, shut the email down, and retreated to the bathroom with his dignity intact. Once alone, he’d lost it. He’d punched the mirror, leaving a fist sized crack in it, and then taken the rest of his anger out on the hand dryer. He needed this to work. He needed to know that he was worth something. But it wasn’t just that. It was what Robyn had told him, too. The mirror and the hand dryer weren’t just the unoptimistic results, they were Jason, this man who had hurt her. The man he would gladly pulverize.
Now he was home and he could hear Robyn in the kitchen. She was singing something country. She had a God-awful voice but he liked it. He couldn’t face her yet. His hand was still bleeding and he needed to take a breath and recollect himself. He sat down on the stairs.
“Listen! I’m opening beer. This is because I have something very awkward to tell you. Well, a couple of things, really, but one is definitely worse than the other, but I’ll let you decide which is which…to be honest, I’m not quite sure myself. And I’m making dinner, although it’s been a while since I had pasta, so I’m probably burning it. Can you burn pasta?” Robyn called from the kitchen.
There was no reply.
“Cole Ryan! Don’t you dare leave because you know I’m cooking! If it goes really wrong, I’ll send for takeout or I’ll barbecue!” Robyn shouted.
There was still no response.