Finding Freedom (Book 4) (Piper Anderson Series)

by Stewart, Danielle

  “Why did you really come down here?” Jedda asked, dropping down to sit beside her. “You got in your car and drove all the way down here. Is there something else going on?”

  She hung her head and stopped pulling the flowers, rolling from her knees to a sitting position. “I was really worried about you, but that isn’t the only reason I came. I’ve never had a lot of friends and when you left, I missed you. But hopping in the car and coming down here was not the right thing. You hadn’t called. I should have taken the hint. Once we get these flowers back to Betty, I’m going to head home.”

  “That isn’t what I want, you to leave now. I’m just . . .”

  “What, Jedda? Talk to me,” Crystal begged, touching Jedda’s hand gently. “You never had any trouble opening up to me before.”

  “I’m in a goddamn tailspin here,” he huffed, pulling his hand back and running it aggressively through his hair. “People in this town think I’m a monster, but I’m sure that would be the same anywhere I go. There’s no running from this thing. My sister, she just shows up here and she’s in trouble. This guy, he beat the crap out of her because the news media put up a picture of her and linked her to my release. Completely outed her and what we went through. This dirt bag is some kind of stuck-up spoiled kid and he didn’t like that he was dating a ‘piece of trash,’ in his opinion. And I just can’t get myself out of this place where I want to . . . I want to find him.”

  “Is she hurt?”

  “She’s banged up and he’s not even done with her. He followed her here. He came right to that house and put his hands on her again. He’s not going to leave her alone. If you could have seen him, the craziness in his eyes.” He clenched his bruised hands into fists as the memory flashed through his mind. “I’m losing it here, Crystal. I want to track the kid down and . . . and . . .”

  “Take a breath, Jedda,” Crystal insisted, moving to his side and putting her arm around him.

  “What if they were wrong about me? What if letting me out was the wrong thing to do and I’m going to hurt someone again? Most people out here think letting me out was a mistake. That I have this evil inside me. Right now I’m not sure I would disagree with them.”

  “Wanting to hurt someone for beating up your sister doesn’t exactly put you in the category of monster. I don’t even think it puts you in the minority of the general population. I’d be more worried if you weren’t angry.”

  “There’s a difference between angry and what I’m feeling. I can’t describe it, but it’s scaring the shit out of me.”

  “Then why are you pushing me away? Maybe I can help you, but you don’t seem like you want me here. Let me be here for you.”

  “Crystal, it isn’t that I don’t want you here, I just don’t want to put you through hell for no reason. You don’t deserve that. I’m not—”

  “Don’t tell me you’re no good for me. That’s so cliché. Don’t give me that line. This isn’t some old black and white movie. I’m not some dame who doesn’t know what she needs in her life.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that; I was going say I’m no good for anyone, not just you. I don’t have anything to offer.”

  “Bullshit. Jedda, you’re compassionate, you’re smart and well-read. You’ve endured incredible things and still stayed positive. Those are parts of your character. They are parts of who you are. I’m not saying that I think you should jump into a relationship, not with me, not with anyone, but I’d like to stick around in case you find yourself ready one day. I want to help you get through this part of your life. Right now, I want to be your friend.” Crystal pulled a few more flowers from the earth, more forcefully than she probably realized, and tossed them down into the basket.

  “Why? I’m likely going to either screw this up and end up back in jail or, even if I manage not to do that, there is a very good chance I’ll never be ready for a relationship. Why would you stick around and take that risk? The odds are you’ll get your heart broken.”

  Crystal put her cool soft hand to Jedda’s cheek. “Because that means there is a slim chance that won’t happen. There’s a sliver of hope my heart will turn out just fine.”

  “That’s enough for you?”

  “Yes, because I’m the type of girl who throws coins in wishing wells and believes my wish might actually come true. I drive all night to get to someone who I’m not sure even wants to see me. And I wait around, offer my support, even if nothing ever comes of it. That’s just who I am.”

  Jedda reached down to the basket, pulled a purple violet out, and brought it to his nose. “I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to hurt you or anyone else, but I feel like I’m going to. And I’m not just talking about breaking hearts. I don’t know how to control this feeling. Willow—having her here, it does something to me.”

  “Right now, the only thing that would hurt me is if you told me to go back home. So don’t. I’ll try to help you with the rest.”

  “And what, you’re just going to be here for me? Like to talk to or whatever?”

  “Yes, or whatever. The same way I was back in New York. We were talking about everything. Your parents and everything you remember about them. I’ll listen if you need me to. If I can help with your sister I will. There is nothing up there for me. With my job gone, I just want to see you get through this. I believe in what the court did for you, and I believe you deserve it. I want to be here when you start believing it too. I want to be your friend.”

  “Just my friend?” Jedda asked rubbing his thumb across the silky skin of Crystal’s cheek fighting the urge to kiss her soft peach-colored lips.

  “If you’re ever ready for more, then you just have to let me know.” She dropped her head and turned her face away from him. He imagined it wasn’t easy for her to put herself out there the way she had. But that was what he admired about her. One of the many things he respected about her. She was unafraid. Unabashedly willing to love.

  “We should get these flowers back to Betty before she comes looking for us,” Jedda said as he swept a wind-blown lock of her hair behind her ear. He wanted her. It would be easy to lean in and kiss her, losing himself in that moment. A part of him wanted to be more than friends with her, but he was still convinced in the end she’d be worse off if anything ever happened between them.

  “Hopefully she’s put that shotgun away,” Crystal jested, heading back onto the path and toward the house.

  “Trust me, when push comes to shove, Betty’s the kind of person you’re glad is on your side,” Jedda said, jogging up behind Crystal and taking the basket of flowers from her hand. “And wait until you try her biscuits.”

  Chapter Eight

  Michael’s somber face as he walked up the driveway of Betty’s house was enough to suck the air right out of Jedda’s lungs. Something hadn’t gone right, that much was obvious. Willow didn’t look particularly happy either, but she hadn’t since she arrived, so that was no change. A pang of guilt spread across his chest. Here he was enjoying the company of a friend, laughing and sipping lemonade, while his sister was fighting for her safety. And judging by their expressions, she was losing.

  Bobby, Piper, and Jules had come in a few minutes before them and politely welcomed Crystal to Edenville. Clay had come home from preparing for the restaurant renovations. The house was buzzing with noise now, but, at the sight of Michael and Willow approaching, a hush fell over them.

  “How’d it go?” Bobby asked as he handed a cold beer over to Michael.

  “Not bad. Could be better, but we’re not completely out of options. We just need to adjust the plan a bit.” Michael paused at the sight of their newest guest. “Hey, Crystal, I didn’t expect to see you down here.”

  “It’s a long story. You go ahead and tell yours first,” she said, waving a hello to Willow who uneasily waved back.

  “We requested a restraining order but didn’t get it. They didn’t see the threat as imminent enough, and since the report regarding the original attack was complete
ly redacted there was no way to show prior violence. We fought it pretty hard but they wouldn’t budge. They said they’d keep an eye out for Brad in town, and if he threatens or causes bodily harm to her from this point on, we’d have no problem getting a protection order.” Michael spun the top off the beer and took a long swig.

  Betty rested her hands on her hips and kicked her head to the side as though she must have misheard something. “Isn’t a restraining order there to keep something like that from happening? Why would you need him to hurt her again in order to get the paper that says he needs to stay away? That’s so crooked you could hide it behind a corkscrew. Why do they do things like that?”

  “That’s the million dollar question. It’s a flaw in the system, one of many. But the judge wouldn’t waver on it. Plus, you know what popular opinion out there is about Jedda; now they see his sister here, bringing with her some trouble. I think they were just looking to stonewall us.”

  “Who was it, what judge?” Piper asked, offering her seat to Willow, whose legs must have been just tired enough to take it.

  “Milton Crosby,” Michael replied, taking an even larger swig of his beer, drinking the rest of it down, and then tossing the bottle into the bin by the steps where all the empties went.

  “Ugh, I hate him,” Betty groaned. “That bucked-toothed, ugly bastard. I swear that man could eat corn on the cob through a picket fence.”

  “You’re full of them tonight, honey,” Clay said as he wrapped his arms around Betty, drew her into him, and kissed her lips gently. “Whenever you get angry, you start talking like a crazy woman. I love it.”

  “Hell, this stuff makes me hopping mad,” Betty groaned, though she softened in Clay’s arms.

  Willow reached for the bottle of wine that was being passed around and poured a glass. “She’s right though, he was an ugly son of a bitch. But I didn’t expect them to help me anyway. Brad and his father, Thomas Angelo, aren’t people you can get restraining orders against.”

  “So what’s next?” Jules asked as she lowered herself into a chair and adjusted a pillow behind her back, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable.

  “We wait. Hopefully Brad moves on, and his threats are just empty bullying,” Michael said, nodding as he tried to assure everyone.

  “And we’ll all be here with you in the meantime.” Bobby clanked his beer bottle against Willow’s wine glass in a sign of solidarity, but it seemed to do nothing for Willow’s confidence. Jedda searched his mind for a moment. Over the last two days had he seen his sister smile, or talk about a friend, or share a happy memory? Perhaps it was his own fault for building up an idea of what reuniting with her would be like, but so far he felt only worry for her.

  As much as he didn’t want to add to the weight of the situation, he knew Michael needed to stay up to date. “We can’t be sure, but I think Crystal getting fired yesterday might have something to do with Brad. Someone left her this note.” Jedda passed the paper over to Michael and watched as his jaw tensed and he swallowed hard.

  “Fired?” Michael asked, seeming genuinely shocked at the idea of someone as efficient and hard-working as Crystal being fired.

  “Seriously?” Willow huffed. “Did Brad seriously do that? I knew it. I knew this would be like six degrees of separation, slowly dismantling shit around me. Hurting anyone who has any sort of tie to me. He’s not going to just stop.”

  “I’m sorry this happened, Crystal.” Michael tucked the paper into his sport coat pocket and gestured for Bobby to toss him another beer from the cooler.

  Crystal pulled her silky corn-colored hair into a ponytail and shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t be sorry. It was only a job. I can get another one. I’m more worried about what you want to do to take care of this guy. I’m worried for both Willow and Jedda, who’s an easy target at this point. You know how little it would take to get him put back in jail.”

  “There’s nothing we can do. You guys don’t know him like I do. He won’t stop.” Willow drained her wine glass with a large swig, wincing as she drank it all down.

  Michael lounged back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Everybody has an Achilles’ heel. Even Thomas and Brad Angelo. We just need to find it. There's always a way to take people down. I need a little time to figure out their weaknesses. I’ve already started doing research. We can win this.”

  “Why not use the information you have on the laptop? You said you have evidence of a crime his father couldn’t get him out of. Why not bring it to a district attorney?” Piper asked.

  “I thought about it until I started digging into this firm. It’s the same reason we didn’t turn over Judge Lions for the original wrong doing. We didn’t know who he had in his pocket, and if we show our hand too early or to the wrong people Willow could be in grave danger. These men move the chains all the time, they make the rules.”

  “They’re infamous,” Crystal added. “When their firm is involved in a case at my courthouse the chatter is unbelievable. They’re known for threatening witnesses, bribing judges, and slandering victims. Their clients are wealthy and so are they. I agree with Michael, it would be risky to try to show your hand this early. You’d be better off seeing if it dies down on its own.”

  Jules looked longingly at the glass of wine in Willow’s hand as she tried to grasp the situation. “So you can’t just give him back the evidence because you don’t think that will be enough for him to leave you alone. And you can’t turn in the evidence because you don’t know who you can trust or who is working for this guy. So you’re going to do nothing?”

  “No,” Michael said, shooting Jules an annoyed look. “I’m going to take the laptop and keep it safe while trying to find some other way to deal with them. If we find an ally in this, someone who wants to bring them down more than we do or find some other angle for dealing with them we can do it with far less drama.”

  “And in the meantime?” Piper asked as she topped off Willow’s glass and then her own.

  Before anyone else could answer, Betty chimed in with a smile that implied she didn’t have a care in the world. That everything was going to be all right. That ability to act perfectly content in the face of trials was one of the gifts she gave the world and, tonight, Jedda appreciated it. “In the meantime,” she hummed, “we all need a good distraction. Like a wedding.”

  Every eye turned toward Jules who was shoveling another handful of crackers into her mouth. “About that,” she mumbled, crumbs flying from her mouth before she could catch them. She choked down the dry snack and continued, “Michael and I talked about it. We think it would be better if we held off on the wedding until things settle down. I’m taking all these postponements as a sign that maybe we should wait.”

  Betty’s smile evaporated like steam in the wind. “But all you’ve been talking about is making sure you say your vows before Françoise makes her appearance in this world.”

  “Ma, really, still with the Françoise?”

  “It’s a beautiful name, but don’t change the subject. This was very important to you. Are you really telling me you just suddenly had a change of heart?”

  “We’re trying to be realistic,” Jules said, filling her hand with another stack of crackers.

  Bobby crossed the porch and sat down next to Jules. “Why? You’re never realistic. It seems like a strange time to start.”

  “Shut up, you ass. No one asked your opinion.” Jules shot daggers at him with her eyes. “Sorry,” she apologized as she softened her face slightly, “it’s the hormones. And that’s kind of the point. I’m as big as a house. Every part of me is swollen. My dress is too tight now. Half the people on our guest list wouldn’t come anyway because they think we’re running some kind of halfway house for the criminally dangerous up here. I can’t get any of the catering equipment I wanted. It just seems like a lost cause.” Jules’s voice broke with emotion and her chin began to quiver. “This isn’t how I imagined it and so I don’t want it any more,” she choked out, now in a full-on
blubbering fit.

  Michael stood, walked over to her and reached his hand down to lift her to her feet. “I think we better be going for the night. It’s usually all downhill from this point.” Jules threw herself into Michael’s arms and wept heavily into his shoulder.

  “I-I’m sorry,” she muttered before pressing her face hard into his shirt. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. These damn hormones.”

  “Go on home, child,” Betty said, patting her daughter’s back. “It ain’t your fault. Babies soak up all our good sense when they’re in our bellies. You’re supposed to be a little crazy. That’s how you know you’re doing it right.”

  “Thanks, Ma,” Jules croaked as she waved a pitiful goodbye to everyone and Michael helped lower her into the front seat of the car.

  As they drove off, the chirping of the crickets and the squeaking of the porch swing were the only sounds. Everyone looked split between stunned and sad. Jedda couldn’t help but feel like his presence here was more disruptive then he had hoped. He was bringing trouble and causing problems for everyone. He had the urge to run, to stand up right this minute and head for the main road and never look back. But there was something tethering him to that porch. As he sat on the chair that had been brought out for him, he felt the soft skin of Crystal’s arm brushing against his. It was just the subtle byproduct of close quarters, but for a man who’d gone so long without the connection to other people, this small act was enough to keep him from bolting down the steps.

  “So should we do it this weekend or next?” Betty asked, pulling her sweater closed against the cool spring night breeze.

  “Do what?” Piper asked as she tipped some more wine into her own glass.

  “Have a wedding for Michael and Jules. You heard her. She only wants one if she can have it the way she wants. So we’ll give her the wedding she was hoping for.”