by Harlow Stone
Not wanting to lie but giving him little, I say, “just out for a drive.”
The other end of the phone is silent, I wonder if he’s onto me and he confirms. “Elle, our job got pushed back. Want to tell me why I just walked in the door to our house and one of your bags is gone, along with all that shit you leave out on the vanity in the bathroom?”
I gasp. I wasn’t expecting him to be home for six days.
Six days for me to find answers, give explanations and sort my head.
“Ryder, I…”
He cuts me off. “Don’t lie to me, beautiful. I love you, please don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I never lie to you, how could you say that?” I’m shocked he would imply such a thing, especially after what we’ve been through this past year and how much we’ve overcome.
He grunts. “Omitting information could be the same thing, Elle. Where are you?”
“Don’t push me, Ryder,” I say low and determined. I know running is not always the best idea, but it’s how I deal with things and I can’t change that right now. I choke back the tears wanting to escape. My emotions are all over the place but of course I embrace the only one that gives me power, the one that keeps me, well, me.
Anger.
“I have laid myself bare for you, Ryder Callaghan. You know more about me than any other person on the fucking planet.”
He sighs. “I know you have. But I’ll ask again, where are you?”
I ignore his question. “I need a few days, Ryder. I love you.”
“Dammit Elle, tell me what the hell happened between fucking you on the desk in my office and now? Because when I last saw you there was a smile on your face and now you’re scaring the fuck out of me!”
I push the wonderful memory of our nooner in his office out of my mind and try to placate him.
“It may be hard for you to understand, but sometimes I need time. This is that time, Ryder. I love you, I truly do. But I need to be alone for a few days.”
“Jesus Elle, I thought you were past this shit!” he growls into the phone. “I love you, come back home and we’ll sort whatever the hell it is you think you need to sort on your own.”
“I don’t need you to sort it, Ryder! I’m a grown woman if you didn’t already clue into that fact.”
He snarls, clearly pissed off. “A grown woman who is currently acting like goddamn child! Shit gets tough and you run, but what you don’t realize is that you’re running in the wrong fucking direction!”
“Fuck you, Ryder. Don’t you dare judge me for running. If I remember correctly, running saved my life, proven by the fact that I’m arguing with you on the phone right now when all I wanted was to clear my head. I love you, Ryder. I’ll be home soon. Goodbye.”
I power the phone off when I’m done, not wanting to argue anymore, not wanting him to follow me. There are things I need to do, people I need to thank and hopefully when that shit’s done I’ll have that clear fucking conscience everyone talks about but I’ve never understood.
I need space to figure this out.
Because for the first time in a long time, I’m completely fucking lost.
Chapter Twenty-six
I leave the door to my motel room open as I wait for Norm to finish her business. I’m happy to say the majority of my paranoia is gone, but living a life of looking over my back for over a year means that some habits are hard to let go of.
I toss my suitcase on the bed and shut the door behind Norm. It’s late, or early. Four in the morning to be exact. I don’t plan on staying here long, just a day or two before I move on to my next destination.
I take a long, hot shower, washing off the road grime and climb into bed. I already hate it. The mattress is hard and Ryder’s not here. I don’t want to be harsh with him, but the way he spoke to me on the phone was uncalled for. If he had went on his business trip he would have been none the wiser of my whereabouts.
His coming home put a damper on my plan but I’m still going to see it through.
***
I turn my phone on as Norma and I walk down the sidewalk. It’s a mild evening and since the motel was close there’s no reason to drive. Plus, Norma doesn’t need to be cooped up in the car any longer than necessary.
It takes a few moments for the beeps and buzzes to finish before I can actually see my home screen. Some days I miss my shitty old burner phones. I temporarily ignore the text from Ryder and open up one from Matty. He knows my new number (for a regular smart phone). He also learned to text.
I respond to every one of them.
It melts my heart when I see a photo of him, holding onto a baby kitten, bottle feeding it. The warmth and happiness reflecting in his eyes melts my heart. He is truly the sweetest human being I have ever met.
Not wanting to waste any more time I press connect.
“Gina!”
I smile at the sound of his sweet voice. “Hey pal, how’s your day going?”
He laughs. “It’s really good, Gina. Did you get my picture?”
I nod, a little choked for words but realizing he can’t see me. “I did get it, Matty. It looks like you’re doing a really good job at Second Chance.”
“I am, Gina! Nancy took that picture for me, I told her I wanted to show my friends how good of a helper I am.”
I sigh, content that he’s so happy, absorbing his words. “That’s great, I’m happy for you.”
“I’m happy too, you know why?” He doesn’t give me the chance to answer. “Because I got to bring a kitten home! Someone found it on the side of the road and it still needs its mom, so Nancy said it would have a better chance if I took her home and fed her with the bottle every few hours! Isn’t that awesome, Gina!”
“It sure is, buddy.” I’m choked up.
“I can do it, Gina! I set my alarm and everything. Every four hours I have to feed her!”
“I know you can do it buddy and I’m very proud of you.”
He’s quiet, and I know it’s because like usual when anyone gives him praise, he takes a moment to let it sink in before he speaks with a little more hope in his voice. “Thanks, friend. I have to go now Gina because Terry asked me if I wanted to bring the kitten to movie night.”
Terry is one of the other residents I met at Willow Beach, and I’m happy to hear Matty is interacting with other people, joining them at the community house for movie night. “It’s okay, Matty. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Okay, Gina!”
He hangs up before I can say goodbye, or I love you. But that’s okay, because he’s happy.
Chapter Twenty-seven
I open the door and allow Norma to walk in ahead of me. I forgot tonight was women’s self-defense night. I remember the last time I was in the same room with some of these women—I couldn’t stand a single fucking one of them.
There are a few who are no bother, some shy women I definitely have more respect for as opposed to the others, like the one with a fully painted face, tits falling out of her sports bra, hand on Brocks arm as she asks him a question.
I clear my throat before saying loudly, “he’s married sweetheart, and if you want to keep that hand of yours, I suggest you remove it.”
Both Brock and the slutty chick whip their heads around. Her face holds a tight scowl. I want to tell her it makes her look like a wrinkly-faced pug but I refrain and focus on Brock, who has a giant smile on his sexy face!
Pulling away from the hooker, Brock strides toward me. We’ve only ever hugged twice but when I see him coming I reach my arms up and allow him to pick me off the ground with his big, beefy arms.
“Holy fuck, didn’t think I’d see ya again, babe.” Following the comment, he puts me down on my feet and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Is everything alright?”
His face is full of concern. It doesn’t need to be. “I’m good, Brock. Really, I’m good.”
I give him more of a smile than he’s ever seen, it’s not huge but it’s something. Seeming placated he no
ds his head.
“Vinny, takeover would ya?”
I watch Vinny come out of the office, taking over the class. He’s not as good looking, but the women don’t seem to mind.
“How’ve you been, Brock?”
He motions to the far wall, away from prying ears and we both move in that direction to take a seat. “Norm hasn’t gotten any smaller, I see.”
I chuckle. “No, she still eats well. Hope you don’t mind her in here.”
He takes a seat and looks over at me. “If I said she wasn’t would you kick her out?”
I shake my head. “Probably not,” I reply with a smirk.
“Well, how have you been Brock West, it’s been a while.” I don’t want to do the idle crap talk but I’m working my way up to something and I know he’ll humor me until I get there.
“I’ve been good, really good. Gym’s doing great, Sam’s bakery is doing better, and we just bought a new house,” he says with true bliss in his eyes.
“I’m happy for you. That’s good, Brock.” I clear my throat. “I came here for a reason actually.” I ignore his eyes, feeling nervous is not something I like, nor is it something I’m familiar with.
He puts his hand on mine, stilling it until I make eye contact. “You know you’ll get no pressure from me, just support. Whatever it is, just say it.”
I kind of missed him. I don’t miss a lot of people but Brock is just something different, he’s a lot like Denny actually; they both have this thing about them that just makes you want to hang onto them forever because they’re so easy going.
“I lied to you.”
He looks confused.
“A lot. I lied to you a lot but I can assure you it was for a good fucking reason.”
Shaking his head he says, “You’re here, you look good. Whatever babe, back burner it if you need to. It looks like it’s stressin’ you out to have to tell me.”
I give him a little smile. “I have to tell you, Brock. I’m trying to get one of those things people talk about. You know, a conscience? A clean slate, no baggage? I’m not too familiar with it but I’m trying.”
He laughs. “Whatever you need to do, babe.”
Leaning back against the wall, I dive in. “My real name is Jayne Elle O’Connor and I’m from Ontario.” He’s shocked for a small moment before he too leans back against the wall, sensing there is more where that came from. “Long story short, because Brock, it is a long fucking story, I was running.” I take a deep breath. “A few years ago, my mother, father and daughter were killed in a car accident. I didn’t know it at the time but it was murder. A while after that I was kidnapped and tortured for three days, and my daughter’s father was also killed during that time.
“It’s been over a year since that all happened. I came here so I could tell you if it weren’t for your help, if you hadn’t taught me what I know, taught me how to fight back, well I don’t think I’d be sitting here with you right now.”
I swallow and chance a look at him. His face is pale, completely lost for words. Not being a pussy, and giving him the respect he deserves I look him in the eye when I say the rest. “I was put in jail a few months ago, and while a guard was on the verge of raping me along with another male a few weeks later; it was your words that kept me alive.” I blink, letting a single tear roll down my cheek as I say the words he once said to me, “Never stay down, Elle. You get back up, you keep fucking going. The longer you’re down, the better chance he has at keeping you there. Don’t give him that chance, Elle. You fight, until you can’t fucking stand anymore. When that’s done, you fucking fight some more. And when it’s done you run, run as fast as you fucking can.”
I give him a small smile. “You may not know it, but I’m pretty certain you saved my life, Brock. So I came here to say thank you.”
I watch his hands that balled into fists midway through the conversation unclench as he brings his hands to shocked, misty eyes. “Fuck babe,” he chokes out, clearly emotional from my words.
Putting my hand on his shoulder, I pull him forward and place a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
Strong arms wrap around me. I let him hold me as long as he needs to. You never know what kind of people he meets while coaching his self-defense classes, but I needed to tell him this so that one day if he ever thinks he hasn’t made an impact, hasn’t helped, he’ll remember this moment and know just how much what he taught me means.
It means everything.
Pulling away, he assesses me with new eyes. I just gave him a bit of a new person he knew nothing about.
“The marks on your wrists, your neck. Fuck, Elle. I just...fuck!” Standing up, he paces in front of me. I know it’s a lot to take in. I’ve lived it. Brock is also a caring and compassionate man so he truly feels what I just told him.
Moving to stand in front of him, I place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay now, Brock. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m okay.”
Shaking his head he says, “Jesus, I don’t know what to say, Elle. I just don’t have words.”
I give him a squeeze. “They’re overrated anyway and you know I’m not much of a talker.”
He laughs a little, knowing too well that no truer words have been spoken.
His eyes turn stormy. “What now? Is the guy in prison? Dead?”
I shake my head sadly at him. “My part of talking about it is over, I’m sure if you Google my name you’ll understand more, but keep in mind not everything you read is true.”
He nods sadly, not because I’m not telling him more but because he probably has that whole information overload thing going on.
“Will you meet me at Sam’s bakery in the morning? I have a favor to ask of you,” I say.
With a quick chin jerk, he replies, “anything.”
“Meet you there at eight,” I tell him, giving him one last small smile, watching his face fall the minute I turn around. It might have been smarter to tell him this stuff in the morning, but I wasn’t thinking things through and shit changes quickly. Now it’s out there. I just hope when he goes to bed tonight he doesn’t dwell on the bad and instead feels more content with the fact he saved a life, even if it was indirectly.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“I’m proud of you, Elle. I’m sure you’ve heard that a lot, but you’re a fucking strong woman and I’m proud of you.”
I give Brock a look of confusion, knowing he probably Googled me last night but not sure what he’s talking about.
“I called Denny. He filled in some blanks for me. I wasn’t trying to pry into your life, but…” He leaves it hanging there. I’m not upset he called Denny, but I only came here to tell him thank you, tell him why, and of course leave out the rest of my dreaded past that I don’t need to speak of every again.
Leaning up I give him a kiss on the cheek. “Take care of my girl, alright? I’ll be back in a day or two to pick her up,” I tell him as I hug him goodbye. It was great to eat some of Sam’s delicacies this morning and catch up, not that there was a lot to catch up on because I never spoke much, but Sam’s a bit of a rambler so she filled the void between chatting with other customers. I’m grateful he waited until now to bring up his knowledge of my past because I don’t think it’s something Sam needed to know.
Denny steps back and dangles the keys to my Chevelle. “Trust me babe, I wouldn’t hurt her.”
I smile at him and walk across the tarmac to the small plane. One of the perks to being a free woman is that my money is no longer tied up in Canada. I have no use for the majority of it, mostly because I didn’t do a damn thing to earn the eight million dollars I inherited when my parents were killed. Also because I don’t live a lavish lifestyle and I never intend to. My parents, Gary and Susan were incredibly humble people and I intend to follow in their footsteps.
I’ve never spent this much money on something so mundane, but like fuck if I was going to put Norma in a cage and have her stored underneath the main cabin on a commercial flight. I also didn’
t feel like making a sixteen hour drive with her in the car after just making an eleven hour trip to Indianapolis.
I wave over my shoulder as I board the private plane. It’s beautiful. It also cost a small fortune but it’s worth it and my dog will be comfortable. Brock waits until the cabin door is closed and we’re heading down the runway before he climbs into my car. He’s a good friend and a great person. I look out into the clouds and say a small thank you and a prayer to my family for bringing such an amazing person into my life.
***