Winds of Danger

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Winds of Danger Page 6

by Christy Barritt

Wes’s heart turned heavy again as he knocked at her door. He knew this conversation wouldn’t be pleasant. But it was necessary.

  He pushed the door open. He’d back off if Paige told him to—but he needed to see her face first, needed to know she was sincere. More than anything, he wanted to clear the air, and he prayed she didn’t turn him away.

  “I know you’re not very happy with me right now, but could you spare a few minutes for the man who may have saved your life?” Wes asked.

  She said nothing for a minute before crossing one arm and taking her oxygen mask off with the other. “How do I know you’re not responsible for my attempted demise? That you didn’t set yourself up to be the hero?”

  Her words felt like a slap in the face. He’d expected many retorts, but not that one. “Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. As a matter of control?”

  “Paige . . .” Wes stepped inside, his voice pleading with her for understanding.

  His heart lurched when he saw her in the hospital bed, though. Her hospital gown . . . the pale skin . . . the oxygen mask . . .

  The sight reminded him of just how close that had been. There could be very different results right now if Wes hadn’t arrived when he did, and he thanked God she was still alive.

  “How are you feeling?” He paused by her bed, waiting for her to send him away.

  He hadn’t kissed her yet. But as he stared at her now, he had the strong desire to pull her into his arms and show her how much he cared.

  He resisted.

  There was romantic. And then there was creepy.

  If he did kiss her now, it might fall into the creepy category—especially considering the tension between them.

  Paige narrowed her eyes, her voice cracking as she said, “Please tell me you didn’t do this.”

  “You think I ran an exhaust line into your RV? Why would I do that?” Was this one of the effects of the gas? Delusions? Why in the world would she even think that?

  “Like I said, so you could be my savior. So I’d run to you for protection. I don’t want to believe it, but . . .”

  “And again I ask, why would I do that?” His voice climbed with frustration. She wasn’t making sense. Or maybe he just didn’t want to put the pieces together.

  Paige’s narrowed eyes became even smaller. “I know about you, Wes. I know how you operate. I only regret I didn’t know that sooner.”

  He ran a hand over his face, feeling like he was fighting a losing battle. “We need to talk, Paige. You talked to Jennifer today, didn’t you? Lisa said she saw you at the restaurant with a woman she didn’t recognize.”

  “I did. You made her out to be a monster, and she was anything but. Now you’re going to try to convince me that you’re noble, that you’re the victim, and then you’ll proceed to treat me like trash also.”

  Wes felt the blood drain from his face. That was exactly what he’d hoped he wouldn’t hear. Lies. More lies.

  But now he knew the stakes were higher than ever.

  He had to set the record straight—now.

  Chapter Ten

  Paige watched as Wes’s face lost its color—just as she expected it might. He’d been discovered, and now he was going to try to make excuses to explain his actions.

  She’d seen it before. He’d do his best to make Jennifer look like the bad guy. Yet part of her hoped she was wrong. That all this was wrong. That Jennifer especially was wrong.

  Wes lowered himself into a chair at her bedside, his usual playfulness gone and replaced with edginess. “What did Jennifer tell you exactly?”

  Paige remembered her conversation with the woman. But first, she put the mask over her face and breathed deeply, giving herself a moment to get her thoughts together. “She told me that you liked to play games.”

  “What kind of games?”

  “Painful ones.” She leveled her gaze with Wes, deciding to cut to the truth. “I saw her photo, the one of her after you beat her. I saw the police report too. I know you were charged.”

  Wes sucked in a quick breath before swinging his head back and forth. “I did not do that to her. Those charges were dropped. That’s what Jennifer told you? That I did that to her?”

  Paige stared at his face. At the tight lines. She remembered the defensiveness in his tone. Were those things signs of guilt? Or was he speaking the truth after someone had verbally slandered him?

  If it was the second scenario, Paige could understand. She’d want to defend herself also.

  “Yes, that’s what she said.” Paige inhaled deeply. “She said you were violent.”

  “And you believed her?” His voice rose with surprise. Was that hurt in his gaze? His expression made her momentarily regret her words. But Paige had to ask these questions. She’d be a fool if she didn’t.

  “Why wouldn’t I believe her? I saw the evidence with my own eyes. I only regret I didn’t see it sooner.” Paige had been such a fool. She was just thankful she’d seen the light before she got in too deeply.

  “You really think I would do those things, Paige?” Wes leaned closer, staring into her eyes.

  His green eyes tried to mesmerize her—but she couldn’t let them. He might look sincere, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just a great actor.

  But Paige had to ask herself: Did she really think Wes would do those things? She didn’t want to believe it. But the evidence was to the contrary.

  She licked her lips. “You discovered my broken windshield. You discovered the exhaust pouring into my RV. I’m thinking that everything fits so far. Your manipulation is at expert level. It would be impressive if it wasn’t so sick.”

  “Paige, you know me better than that.”

  “Actually, I don’t. I don’t really know you, Wes. We’ve had fun together. We’ve talked about generic things. We’ve goofed off. But I really don’t know that much about you at all. I don’t know what shaped you into the man you are today. Why you really came here to Lantern Beach. I don’t know your biggest regrets or your fears or what makes you cry.”

  “I would love to go deeper with you, Paige.”

  Paige said nothing. She appreciated his words, but were they too little too late? She had to figure that out.

  Wes reached for her arm but stopped short of actually touching her. Instead, he dropped his hand back down to the side. “Paige, please don’t believe anything Jennifer told you. She wants nothing more than to ruin me, and to ruin any of my future relationships.”

  She studied his gaze. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because she’s crazy.”

  “She told me you’d say that.” Paige would need more than that if he really wanted to convince her he was the victim here. Words . . . they could be empty. They could be easy. What she needed was the truth.

  “Paige, I need you to listen to me. She’s not stable. You need to stay away from her.”

  His excuses were disappointing . . . he offered no new information, only vague warnings. “Wes, I’m not sure I want to hear your cautions. It sounds to me like you’re trying to deflect your issues on someone else. It’s a typical pattern for abusers.”

  He ran a hand over his face, his eyes squeezed shut. Finally, he opened them again and stared at her. “Paige, please. Just give me five minutes to explain things. Five minutes. If you still don’t believe me . . . then I’ll walk away. I promise. Please. You’ll never have to see me again.”

  She saw the earnestness in his eyes and finally nodded. “Fine. Five minutes. But not a minute more.”

  Wes sucked in a deep breath, grateful that Paige hadn’t kicked him out. But she still could.

  Where did he even start? Would Paige believe him? He had to give it a shot, at least.

  “After I’d broken things off with Jennifer, she showed up at my house one night,” Wes started. “She begged to get back together. I told her no. She asked to come inside. I said no, that we’d never be together again.”

  Paige didn’t say anything. She just listened, pulling
the oxygen mask back over her face and waiting for him to continue.

  “The next morning, the police showed up at my house and arrested me. They told me that Jennifer had come into the station covered in bruises. She’d told them I was responsible for them.”

  “And?” Paige asked beneath her mask.

  “And . . . it just so happened that I was recording a video presentation with one of my coworkers that evening. My story could be verified due to the time stamp on the recordings. It showed that I’d left the computer for five minutes—not nearly long enough to do the damage Jennifer said I’d done.”

  “Keep going.”

  “The police checked my hands. There were no bruises. They talked to the neighbors. No one saw anything. They talked to my coworker. He verified that I didn’t seem out of breath or like I’d been in a fight. The charges were dropped.”

  “Then how did she get the bruises?” Paige asked, her expression softening some.

  “That’s a question for Jennifer. My theory is that she did it to herself. She’s that sick and twisted.”

  Paige studied his face a moment before putting her oxygen mask aside and narrowing her eyes. “You told me about your relationship with her. Why would you keep that detail from me? It makes it seem like you’re hiding something.”

  Wes dipped his head, hating the fact he had to defend himself from accusations that had no basis in reality. “I didn’t tell you because none of it was true. It was a lie. What would it prove if I had mentioned those charges? It would only make you doubt me.”

  “It makes you look . . . violent.”

  Injustice churned inside him, causing a surge of passion to rise in his voice. “Exactly. Once accusations like that are thrown out—even if they’re not true—they’re almost impossible to bounce back from.”

  Paige studied his face again. “Is that really why you moved here?”

  “I really moved here to get away from all of that craziness. And . . . I didn’t like working in advertising. Truth is, I like being a blue-collar worker. I’ve been on both sides of the career spectrum. Work borne with sweat and muscle is still important. It doesn’t make someone any less of a person, despite what some sides of society might preach.”

  Paige smiled for the first time, but it quickly disappeared. “I agree. Tell me more. How did you two meet each other?”

  Was she feeling him out for holes in his story? Probably.

  He let out a breath. “Like I said, I met Jennifer back when I lived in Virginia Beach. Things started out great between us but quickly went south. She wasn’t the girl I thought she was. I started noticing little things about her. She’d check my email for me. She found the spare key to my house and let herself in. That she went out of her way to get to know my friends.”

  “Maybe she was trying to make a good impression.” Even Paige’s voice held doubt.

  “Maybe. I gave her the benefit of doubt at first also. But it quickly proved that I should have listened to my gut. It went from bad to worse.”

  “What happened?”

  “Everything escalated. She let herself into my apartment whenever she wanted. She answered my emails for me—even to my work colleagues. I saw the writing on the wall. I broke things off. I did so nicely and kindly. But she didn’t take no for an answer.”

  “What does that mean exactly?”

  “I started dating someone else a couple weeks later—nothing serious. Jennifer kept showing up wherever this new girl went and spreading lies about me. She said she and I were still dating. Every time I tried to date someone, Jennifer pulled stunts like that.”

  “That’s . . . rough.”

  “I think she broke your car window and pulled the stunt today at your RV. And it’s no mistake that she’s trying to befriend you. She wants to get into your head.” Just the thought of it caused anger to course through his veins. But it was one thing to feel anger, and an entirely different story to act on it.

  Paige shook her head, exhaustion beginning to wear on her features. “How do I know that you’re not the one who’s messing with me?”

  “I guess you don’t, Paige.” Wes shook his head wearily. “But I’m concerned for your safety. I thought if I separated myself from you, she’d leave you alone. I can see that’s not the case. I don’t know what to do now. How can I keep you safe if I leave you alone?”

  “I didn’t ask you to keep me safe, Wes.”

  “If something happens to you, it’s going to be my fault.”

  Paige rubbed the skin at her temples and closed her eyes. “I don’t even know what to say. I need . . . I need a moment to think this through.”

  “I’m going to wait outside.”

  She nodded resolutely. “I’d expect nothing less.”

  “I’m worried about you, Paige.” Wes meant the words. He was concerned. Jennifer was taking this to an entirely new level.

  “I just need some time. It’s a lot to process.”

  He lowered his voice. “I know it is. But I’ll be outside in the hall if you need me.”

  He really hoped—and prayed—that she didn’t push him away.

  Chapter Eleven

  Two hours later, the doctor cleared Paige to leave. The problem was that Wes had driven her here to the clinic, and it was the middle of the night.

  She glanced at the time. Three a.m. to be exact.

  Who else would she call to take her home? Cassidy? Did she even want to go back to her RV after what had happened there?

  She sighed and splashed some cold water in her face. She’d slipped into the bathroom to freshen up before departing. She grabbed some paper towels and dabbed her face, glancing in the mirror as she did so. Paige cringed. Even she had to admit that she looked tired—both physically and mentally.

  She knew one thing. She wanted to trust Wes. She wanted to believe his story. He’d sounded earnest.

  Her problem was that Jennifer had also sounded earnest.

  So which of them was telling the truth?

  Her mind raced through the possibilities. The truth was Wes had one big thing on his side: his friends. Paige didn’t really think that Ty, Cassidy, and the rest of the gang would be buddies with someone like the person Jennifer described.

  Or had Wes fooled them also? Was he the type who could charm anyone but devastate the ones who meant the most to him?

  Paige didn’t want to believe that. But she needed to be wise here.

  When she exited the bathroom, she asked the nurse to send Wes into the room. He stepped inside, exhaustion evident on his features. The sparkle was gone from his eyes, and the sight of that caused her heart to lurch.

  This had been hard on him too, hadn’t it? What if he was innocent? If that was the case, he was just as much a victim here as she was.

  “So, I guess you’re cleared to leave,” he started, jamming his hands into his pockets.

  “That’s what I heard.” She ran a hand over her shirt, pressing out imaginary wrinkles.

  “Do you want me to see if Cassidy can pick you up?”

  Paige shrugged, appreciating the fact that he wasn’t being pushy. Though she still had her reservations, too many people knew she and Wes were together right now for him to do anything stupid—if he was even guilty of doing any of those things. He’d be a fool to make any wrong moves now.

  “Actually, I’d be grateful if you would assist in that,” she finally said.

  A spark of hope lit in his eyes. “I’d be happy to.”

  “But no flirting with me.” She wasn’t trying to flirt, but her words had sounded more playful than she intended.

  “I would never dream of it.” A flicker of a smile curled his lip before disappearing.

  “I mean it.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “What are you going to do if I do flirt?”

  “I’ll write up a police report myself. Assault with awful one-liners.”

  He chuckled and bobbed his head up and down. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He led h
er out to his truck, and they climbed inside. He cranked the engine and let it run for a minute. The AC filled the cab, and Paige leaned her face into it.

  “Where would you like to go?” he asked.

  That was the question Paige had been asking herself. She just couldn’t bear the thought of going to her RV.

  “I . . . don’t know,” she admitted.

  He paused. “Look, I have an extra room at my house. You’re welcome to stay there. Otherwise, I can call Cassidy and—”

  “Your place would be great.” Had Paige really just said that? She had. She realized there was no other place she’d feel safer . . . and she craved the familiar. But those feelings clashed with her uncertainties, leaving her head throbbing.

  Should she take her words back?

  Wes glanced at her, as if unsure he’d heard correctly. “You sure?”

  Was she? Wes would never hurt her. But was that what Jennifer had believed also?

  She swallowed hard as a solution came to mind. “Yes. But I’ll be sleeping with a knife. I need to make that clear.”

  He opened his mouth as if to argue and then shook his head, halfway humored. “Whatever works for you.”

  Paige’s throat felt tight as she stepped into Wes’s cottage. She’d been here before many times, so she shouldn’t feel awkward. But it was nearly four a.m., and their relationship already seemed to have a long history—and the two of them weren’t even dating.

  His place was simple, with wood-paneled walls and outdated kitchen cabinets. But it was clean. His couch was brown leather. The pictures on his walls displayed lighthouses from up and down the East Coast.

  If this was her place, Paige would paint the paneling to brighten up the space. Add updated frames to the photos. Add some colorful pillows to the couch.

  “You can stay in the spare bedroom. No one ever uses it, so it should be good to go.”

  She forced a smile. “Thank you.”

  As she stared at him standing there, she wanted nothing more than to experience one of his hugs. She wanted comfort and assurance and to know she wasn’t all alone in this crazy world. She wanted a human touch—Wes’s touch.

 

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