by Wendy Owens
“I’m good,” I called over the crowd.
“And you can get your own,” Christian huffed before Paige could put in her request.
As he walked away, I looked to her, the thoughts going through her mind clearly displayed on her face. “Is everything okay?”
“Huh?” Paige muttered, realizing I was watching her. “Oh, it’s fine; he gets in a mood sometimes, that’s all.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” I attempted to reassure her.
Paige always wanted to talk about Christian and their relationship, but there was concern in her eyes, and in that moment, it seemed to be the furthest thing she wanted to talk about. “You and Colin seem to be getting pretty hot and heavy.”
“Yeah, I still can’t believe it,” I replied, looking around the bar for any sign of Colin, but he was nowhere to be found. “I swore I wouldn’t get serious with a guy while I was away at school, but he—I’m not sure, I guess it’s his charm.”
“Yeah, charm. Or the fact that he’s hot as hell,” Paige joked.
“Well, that doesn’t hurt,” I agreed, grinning foolishly.
“Seriously though, Emmie, I’ve never seen him like this with someone before.” Paige’s voice shifted to one of concern. “Are you sure you’re in this, too?”
Her question knocked the air out of me. I was a little shocked, that being my friend, she would ask me such a thing. “Why would you ask that?”
“It’s like you said, you didn’t want anything to do with a boyfriend, and now it’s all about Colin. I just don’t want to see him get hurt if you change your mind.”
Even though she had a valid point, I still felt myself getting defensive. “Look, Colin is the one that convinced me to give us a try. I told him I wasn’t ready.”
“I get that,” Paige said looking over her shoulder, presumably checking up on Christian, who was now headed in our direction with two ginger ales. “I didn’t mean anything by it, just forget it.”
Setting the extra glass down in front of Paige I saw his lips whisper, ‘Sorry babe.’ She looked up, smiling, their spat ending with a gentle kiss.
I turned toward the stage, my face still hot from the question Paige had asked me. I couldn’t figure out if I was angrier that she thought I would hurt Colin or because I thought I might hurt him.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special treat for you tonight.” A man with a very large belly and muttonchops on the sides of his round face took the small stage, yelling into the microphone.
The crowd began to scream, though I wondered why since nobody was supposed to know who this was. “Where’s Colin?” I asked, looking back at Paige and Christian. They both shrugged their shoulders.
“For your listening pleasure,” the man continued, “I am thrilled to present a band some of you might remember when they were just Wesley Jeremiah.”
The crowd erupted into frenzied screams. I searched around once again for Colin, but it was hopeless. Turning back to the stage I attempted to wait for him patiently, becoming increasingly agitated he brought me to a concert, only to abandon me before it even began.
“All right, quiet down. Now for those of you who weren’t around back in those days, these boys went on to bigger and better things out in Denver, even though we will always remember their New York days, right folks?”
And again the crowd erupted. I turned toward Paige, only able to mouth, ‘who?’ She seemed to have the answer, but I couldn’t figure out what she was trying to say over the noise.
“The Lumineers!” My stomach flipped, and I suddenly found myself screaming like the rest of the crowd. I loved The Lumineers; they had become a standard part of my playlist while painting. Damn, I wished Colin were there.
A petite woman entered onto the stage, taking her seat behind a cello that was waiting for her. Soon after, the four remaining members joined her, the noise from the crowd causing my ears to pulse. The lead singer grabbed the microphone at the front, center stage, motioning for the crowd to silence. After a moment they obeyed.
“Hello Half Kings!” he shouted, which only caused him to have to wait for the crowd to quiet again. “We are thrilled to be here tonight, and actually, we are here thanks to the effort of one friend. This guy helped us out more than once back in the day. Colin, get out here.”
I was certain there must be something wrong with my hearing—that is, until I saw Colin stumble onto stage and into the embrace of the lead singer. I looked back at Paige and Christian in disbelief. They just laughed in response to my expression.
“Colin found out we were in town, and he called me up with a sob story about how he met a beautiful girl who changed everything for him. After thoroughly heckling the poor bastard he still asked if we could help him woo this lovely bird. Isn’t that right, brother?”
Colin leaned into the mic, laughing slightly as the crowd cheered. “The boys, oh and sorry, lovely Neyla as well, agreed to help me express my love for my beautiful Clementine.”
There it was—he said my name in front of the room of screaming fans, in front of The Lumineers, and now everyone would be sure to witness my inevitable fainting spell. This couldn’t be happening.
“That’s her right there in the front. Beautiful, right?” Colin graciously offered me up to the crowd, my face now bright red and extremely warm.
“Stand up, love,” one of the bandmates chimed.
“Yes, stand up, baby,” Colin agreed.
Wanting the embarrassment to cease, I did as I was asked, the crowd whistling at me in response. All I could think was that everyone in the bar thought how completely overdressed I was.
“Babe, since I met you my life has been so different. Better. I feel alive. I know you’re a tough nut to crack, and that’s why I want to sing a little song for you,” Colin continued.
I decided my only hope to make it through the event would be to focus on Colin, staring only at him, letting the crowd fall away. “You sing?” I mouthed toward him in disbelief.
“Yes, sweetheart, I sing. Perhaps not well, but you’re about to find out though. Ready guys?” Colin asked looking back at the group. As soon as they began playing the music I recognized the song: “Stubborn Love,” one of my favorites.
When he began I could hear the nerves in his voice, but after only a few words, it faded away. He took a step closer to the edge of the stage, locking eyes with me, and in that moment we were alone. After about half the song passed the rest of the band joined in. This was my life now; I was with a man who would get up in front of a crowd of people and serenade me alongside a band he knew I loved.
“Give it up for Colin Bennett everyone!” the lead singer shouted as the song came to an end. Colin was like a rock star up there, exchanging some sort of handshake only the cool kids could possibly know the sequence of.
Leaping from the stage he scooped me up into his arms, dipping me back, and delivering a passionate kiss. As I broke free, he whispered into my ear, breathing heavily, “I love you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Colin had forgotten about the conversation I wanted to have with him after the concert, and who could blame him? Quite honestly, I had not thought about it again until the next morning. I probably should have rushed to his side in that moment and told him everything, but how could I? He loved me. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was starting to fall for him. Christmas break was close, and I decided I would tell him then. We would have a lot of time alone, and I knew we could really talk it out.
The idea of telling him I was married before, and that I had driven my husband to suicide, wasn’t something that came easily for me. I wanted it to not be my past. It had actually started feeling like it wasn’t—like it must have happened to someone else—because there was no way I could feel the way I did with Colin, if that had happened to me.
Monday had come before I was ready for it. My shift in focus was starting to concern me. When I first arrived, all I did was look forward to class, but now, the end o
f the weekend meant a break in my time with Colin. He was spending more time sleeping at my place than at his own. Tearing myself from his warm arms, forcing my naked body out into the cool morning air, was becoming one of the hardest things I did each day.
I no longer wore Ashton’s shirts to bed; I hadn’t even seen one in over a month. I kept them hidden away, just as I was trying to do with our story. Colin never wanted to wear clothes to bed. He explained that during the night, he sometimes needed to satisfy urges, which I was more than fine with. I had lost count of the number of times I woke up with his face between my legs, coaxing me into an orgasm.
But on this day, I managed to get up, and despite snow flurries, forced myself to class. The thought of Colin in my bed, waiting for me, propelled me forward throughout the day. As the last class ended, I bounded down the stairs and out the front door. Due to the nasty weather, I even considered a taxi rather than the fifteen-minute walk. Though, with the roads, I was probably looking at a similar travel time for the mile distance.
“Clementine Stirling!” a voice shouted behind me. I froze. I knew the voice, but the name was no longer familiar to me. I left that name behind when I left Ohio in my rearview mirror. How in the hell did William Stryker know that name?
I looked around for a moment, gaining slight comfort from the crowd surrounding us. The last time we saw each other was not under the best of circumstances. I squinted at him through the white haze, the cool flakes pelting me in the face, melting on contact.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Don’t you want to know how I know that name?” he inquired, trying to taunt me.
“I don’t really care how you know that name. I just want you to leave me alone. I thought I made that quite clear,” I replied, trying to keep my voice firm. Everything in me wanted to know how he knew my married name, but I was certain I did not want to engage him any more than absolutely necessary.
“I see, then maybe I should go talk to your little boyfriend again. I bet he would like to know all about Clementine Stirling.” I could see his glee as he threatened me.
“No!” I exclaimed, immediately regretting the desperation in my voice.
“So he doesn’t know,” Stryker gathered.
“What do you want?” I asked again.
“We need to talk.”
“Just tell me what you want, please.”
“There’s a coffee shop right down the block. It’s freezing out here, so let’s go talk there.”
“Starbucks?” I scoffed; Colin had definitely turned me into a coffee snob.
“You don’t have to drink anything, but we need to talk.”
I hesitated.
“It’s crowded so you don’t have to worry. It’s about the Stirlings. You’ll want to hear what I have to say,” he added.
“How do you know about them?” I asked, watching him nervously.
He didn’t answer; instead, he walked past me, crossing the street. I didn’t move, but just watched him as he nearly dropped out of sight in the sheet of white. I took a couple steps closer, where I saw him standing in front of the coffee house, waiting for me to join him.
We didn’t speak again until he had gotten himself a cup and joined me at the table I was waiting for him at.
“Now, will you tell me what the hell is going on?” I demanded.
“When I met you I told you I do research,” he began as he stared at me, eagerly awaiting my reaction to his news.
“Yeah, so…”
“I was doing research—on you.”
“What?” I asked as the room began to shift around me. “I don’t understand.”
“Mr. Stirling hired me.”
“Hired you to do what?”
“You see, after you left town, and changed your name, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe his son’s death didn’t go exactly like you say it did,” Stryker explained, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to wipe the smirk from his face. “So, he sent me here to find out what I could. Get to know you, ask you questions, get to the truth.”
“What truth? Ashton blew his brains out goddammit! What else does he want to know?”
“He wants the whole story, which I was trying to figure out until pretty boy got in the way,” Stryker snarled.
“Oh my God, you actually think you had a shot? I ditched you on our date because I thought you were a creep. Jesus, you’re thick.”
“Watch your mouth, or maybe we’ll just go tell him right now about your killer past.”
I took a deep breath; the room was now starting to actually spin, and a ringing sprung up in my ears. My mind shifted between the fact that this man before me had lied about who he was, taken me on a supposed date in order to gain information, and the fact my ex-father-in-law was hell bent on getting me to confess something dubious about his son’s death. I’d had enough.
“Mr. Stirling wants the truth? Fine. I wasn’t coming home from the grocery store like I told everyone. In fact, I had just told Ashton we were over. He told me he was going to do it, but I didn’t believe him.” I could hardly believe I was actually saying the words. Besides my mother, I had never told anyone what happened that night. The guilt was tiring. I didn’t want to feel like I was lying to everyone anymore. “I told him to do what he had to do.”
“You told him to kill himself?” Stryker asked, amazed as well by my sudden confession.
“I told him to do what he had to do,” I repeated, standing. I looked at Stryker before turning to walk out. “Tell Mr. Stirling whatever you want, but just leave me the hell alone.”
“Wait just a minute princess.” He jumped to his feet, closing the distance between us. “We’re not done. You can tell Prince Charming about who you really are, or I’ll do it for you.”
“Why? What is it of your business?” I asked. “You got what you came for.”
He looked me up and down. I could feel his eyes undressing me, and licking his lips first, he said, “I didn’t get everything I came for.”
I shivered in disgust. “You can’t be serious?”
“Your boyfriend assaulted me. I think I deserve something for all of my pain.” He paused, leaning in closer and whispering next to my ear, “Sleep with me, and I won’t tell him.”
It was as if I had lost all control of my body. Pulling my hand back I released all of my might on his jaw, the slap echoing throughout the coffee shop, an instant audience ensuing. “Screw you.”
I turned and walked out, ignoring the shouting from Stryker behind me, warning me of his wrath. I wanted to get home, climb into my shower, and wash away the mental filth I had just been subjected to. How I could have ever thought that creature was attractive was beyond me.
Chapter Nineteen
“Please, will you just tell him I’m sick?” I pleaded through the locked door.
“How long do you think he’s going to take that as an answer Emmie? If you won’t talk to him, will you please talk to me?” Paige spoke softly from the other side of the door.
“Fine, whatever. I can’t talk to him, though,” I answered.
“Colin? Yeah, I know. No, she is a hot mess.” I pressed my ear to the door, to better hear the one-sided conversation Paige was having on the phone. “No, don’t… Because she doesn’t want you to see her like this… It’s a girl thing, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of her. When she’s done puking her guts out I’ll have her call you… Okay, bye.”
I pulled open the door giving her a disapproving glare. “Really? Hot mess? Puking my guts out?”
“You’re the one who said to tell him you’re sick. He would be over here taking care of you if I didn’t tell him all that,” Paige argued, and she was probably right.
“Thanks, I can’t face him right now,” I replied, walking to the couch and collapsing onto it in a pile of despair.
Paige stared, studying me intensely. “What is your deal?”
“Nothing,” I replied, attempting to dismiss her question.
&nb
sp; “Since you started dating Colin, you have been walking around this place looking like a sex pot. You come home today, climb into oversized sweats, and out walks Miss Frumpy,” Paige pointed out, the truthfulness striking a little too close to home.
“That’s not true. I put these on because it’s freezing in this place.”
“Hey, your landlord is the boyfriend. Don’t look at me,” Paige jested. Sitting next to me, she placed her hand on top of mine, the warmth of her touch causing a wave of emotion to flood over me. I wasn’t sure if I could contain myself much longer.
“Oh Paige,” I moaned.
“You know you’ll feel better if you talk about it,” she urged, bending over to get me to look her in the face.
“I can’t do that,” I replied, still managing to avoid eye contact, despite her efforts.
“It can’t be that bad. Is it something about Colin?” she probed. I decided to play along to the twenty questions and nodded.
“Okay,” she contemplated for a moment. “Did you cheat on him?”
I slapped her in the arm with the back of my free hand. “No! I would never do that.”
“Well, I don’t know. You’re acting like someone died,” Paige defended herself.
I gasped, looking up at her in horror.
“Oh my God, that’s it. Someone died? Emmie, is it your mom?”
“No, no, she’s fine,” I replied shaking my hand.
“This is just between us, I promise. You can tell me.” I looked at her and saw it in her eyes. I could trust her. She was my friend; I hoped she still would be after I told her the truth.
“You can never tell Colin,” I reaffirmed.
“Fine, I won’t tell him. What’s going on?”
“I’ve been married before…” I began.
“What?” Paige asked.
“Let me get through all of it, or I won’t be able to finish,” I instructed, and Paige nodded in response. “I married him right out of high school. I was a nobody, and he was everything in the town I came from. I felt like I was lucky he even wanted me. Anyway, long story short, it was a mistake. He was abusive, and I finally decided I’d had enough.”