She crossed her arms. “This injury happened at a very inopportune time. Lindsey, you’re going to need to stay here with Rachel.”
“Of course,” Lindsey answered.
“Nick,” the director continued, “you’ll need to chaperone all your campers, boys and girls, back to Langley Park. We’ll need to contact Rachel’s parents and have them drive up. I’ll have Lindsey driven home after we get Rachel squared away.”
He met Lindsey’s gaze. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to leave Rachel on her own.”
“I could stay,” Rory said. “I don’t want to leave Rachel either.”
“She’s in good hands,” Nick said, squeezing Rory’s shoulder. “Your parents are expecting you back in Langley Park. I’m sure Rachel and Miss Lindsey won’t be too far behind us.”
Rory nodded but kept his gaze directed at his shoes.
“I’ll wait at the Community Center,” Nick said, taking Lindsey’s hand. Camp was over. That gleeful glances only shit was done. He didn’t give one single fuck if the director had a problem with him touching his girlfriend.
Girlfriend.
A wave of warmth spread through his body.
“It might be late,” Lindsey said, glancing back into the clinic.
“I’d wait all night. I’ll be there when you get dropped off. We can go get ice cream or dinner or take pictures of clouds. Whatever you want.”
The director cleared her throat and checked her watch. “Nick, you need to get moving. Your bus back to Langley Park leaves in fifteen minutes.”
“Rocky road,” Lindsey said, giving Nick’s hand a squeeze.
“Rocky, what?” he asked.
“Rocky road. It’s my favorite flavor of ice cream.”
He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to tell her that he loved her.
“Rocky road it is,” he said with a smile.
They had all weekend together. Plenty of time.
6
Nick stretched his legs out across the seat and glanced back at the kids, as the bus headed back to Langley Park. Tan cheeks. Tousled hair. Five days of back to back outdoor activities had caught up with them. They’d barely been on the road an hour before the bus quieted and all of the kids fell asleep, lulled by the constant hum of highway and breeze.
They had the same driver, Mr. Robbins, and he’d immediately flipped on his radio after they made the turn onto the interstate. Nick picked up the binder with all the campers’ information and took out a blank sheet of paper and envelope. He reached into his backpack and grabbed a pen.
He leaned against the window. Five days ago, Lindsey was sitting with him in this exact seat. Five days ago, he was a different person. An angry person. An unkind person. Five days ago, he was his father. Strike that. He wasn’t his father, yet. He’d never raised a hand to anyone in violence. He never purposely terrorized another human, but he was heading down the road of cruelty and self-loathing.
Lindsey had changed all that.
She gave him hope. She gave him her heart. She gave him everything. Her love. Her virginity. She had opened herself up to him in ways he had never imagined knowing another person.
He uncapped the pen.
Dear Linds, I never wanted to fall in love with you.
His eyes were heavy. He blinked them, trying to stay awake.
He never wanted to fall in love. He never expected to fall in love, but he did. He was so happy, so ecstatic. He wasn’t even sure how to put it into words. The rhythmic movement of the bus was starting to get to him. He folded up the sheet of paper, slid it inside the envelope, and scribbled Lindsey’s name on it. He would finish writing it when he got back to Langley Park.
Nick leaned his head back into the space between the window and the seat. He wished she was with him. It felt foreign not to have her close by. He inhaled. Maybe it was just a trick of his mind, but he caught her scent on the breeze—sweet cream and summer rain. He closed his eyes as the first notes of Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” floated through the bus. Lindsey had mumbled something about liking this song before falling asleep, her head on his shoulder. Her body, soft and warm. She was his safe place. She was his home. He smiled, and his mind sifted through a jumble of images, all containing Lindsey. He saw her eyes, blue-green and sparkling only for him, before joining the rest of the bus and falling fast asleep.
“Nick, wake up, dear.”
Nick tried to stretch out his legs, but his knees bumped into something.
Where the hell was he?
He opened his eyes.
Karen Quigley was standing in the bus aisle, tapping him on the shoulder. “You made it back to Langley Park.” Her bright expression dimmed. “I was sorry to hear about Rachel. Luckily, it’s not a break, just a bad sprain.”
Nick ran the back of his hand across his mouth. Jesus, he had really slept. The drool on his chin was a testament to that. “I’m glad Rachel’s going to be okay,” he said, coming to his feet. “Is Lindsey on her way back?”
“Rachel’s parents offered to drive her back. I just got off the phone with them. They’re leaving the hospital now.”
Nick nodded. Just a few hours and he’d have her back.
“There’s a little surprise for you,” Karen said. “Let me take all that,” she said, gesturing to the camp binder.
“What do you mean a surprise?” Nick asked.
“See for yourself! Don’t worry about the kids. I’ll get them sorted.”
Nick grabbed his backpack and got off the bus.
“Nicky! My sweet boy!”
“Mom?” Nick said, not believing his eyes.
“It’s good to see you, baby!”
She smiled up at him. He swallowed hard. It wasn’t her real smile. She’d also applied makeup, but it didn’t entirely cover a narrow slice of skin below her eye. The yellow tinge of a healing bruise glared out at him. She'd done a good job trying to cover it, but Nick had become a master of spotting his father’s handiwork.
“Mom,” he said. The word fell from his lips in one heartbreaking syllable.
“Look who’s with me,” she said.
A car door shut, and Nick’s father strode up the sidewalk.
“It’s good to see you, son. I hope a summer with your great old auntie didn’t turn you too soft.”
“No, sir,” he mumbled.
“What was that, boy?”
“Oh, Cal, don’t be like that,” his mother said in that placating tone she always used with his father.
With just a flick of his eye, his father silenced his mother.
“Now answer your father like a man. Did a summer away turn you into a pansy?”
Rage coursed through Nick’s body. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. His father should have been a distant memory. He and his mother should be unpacking their things in a new apartment far away from the tyrannical rule of his father.
Nick squared his jaw. “No, sir, I did not turn into a pansy.”
Cal laughed. It was the kind of laugh where you weren’t sure if he was laughing at you or with you.
Nick and his mother had learned not to respond and remained silent.
Karen Quigley joined them and put a hand on Nick’s forearm. “It was such a pleasure having Nick as a counselor this summer. He’s welcome back anytime. I’m just sorry you have to leave so soon.”
“Leave?” Nick said, meeting his mother’s gaze.
“Daddy got us first class tickets heading back to Louisville today.”
“Today?” Nick replied. That didn’t give him much time.
“Something wrong with your hearing, son? Now. We need to leave right now. Such a shame we won’t get to spend more time in this lovely town,” his father said, sharing his million-watt smile with Karen. Always the charmer, his dad.
“We’ve already been to Aunt Marilyn’s to collect your things, sweetheart,” his mother added, but Nick couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze. Disappointment coursed through his body, s
o thick it was like molasses clogging every vein, every artery.
“I won’t keep you, folks,” Karen said and slipped Nick’s camp binder under her arm.
His father pinned him with an icy gaze. “Come on, son. A family belongs together.”
Lindsey closed the door of Rachel’s parents’ car and waved goodbye. They had insisted on stopping for a late lunch after Rachel was discharged from the hospital with little more than an ace bandage and orders to take ibuprofen for any pain. She was glad Rachel wasn’t badly injured, but she was desperate to get back to Langley Park. She needed to see Nick, needed to feel his hands in her hair as he kissed her. She needed every second they had together before she was to head back home—wherever that was going to be.
It was almost seven o’clock, but the summer sky was still bright. She looked around, but she didn’t see Nick. He would have beaten her back to Langley Park by at least three or four hours. She knew it was a long time to wait. He’d probably just gone to get something to eat or maybe he went inside the community center to cool off in the air-conditioned building. She set her backpack and sleeping bag on a bench near the entrance and waited.
The doors to the facility opened. Lindsey’s head whipped toward them expectantly, but it wasn’t Nick. It was Karen Quigley.
“I saw you just got dropped off,” the Kids’ Camp director said with a smile. “Thanks for calling to let me know how Rachel was doing. It’s never easy when a kiddo gets hurt. I’m glad you were able to stay with her.”
“Me, too, Mrs. Quigley,” Lindsey said, glancing past the director as a couple of teens left the center.
“Are you waiting for someone, Lindsey?”
She bit down on her lip. “I was hoping Nick would still be here.”
“Oh, he left hours ago. His parents picked him up right after the bus got here.”
His parents?
“Where did they go?” Lindsey asked. Her mouth had gone dry, and her words came out choked and cracked.
“Home,” Karen answered. “They had to leave right away to catch their flight.”
There wasn’t enough air. She couldn’t breathe. It just couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t have left her. He’d beg his parents to stay— only a few hours, just until he could see her one more time.
Karen handed her an envelope.“He did leave this. I found it in his camp binder. It’s got your name on it.”
She took the envelope.
Karen touched her arm. “Thank you for all your work this summer.”
Lindsey nodded, and the woman went back inside the community center.
Her hands shook as she pulled out a single sheet of paper. She unfolded it slowly, her breath ragged and tight.
There was only one sentence. She read it once, then twice.
Dear Linds, I never wanted to fall in love with you.
She held the paper tightly in her hand and started running as tears trailed down her cheeks. She crossed the street and headed into the Langley Park Botanic Gardens. She’d spent many afternoons there, leading her campers on nature walks and geocaching expeditions. There was a spot—a bench hidden behind a tall juniper hedge, secluded and tucked away. Her heart pounded as it came into view.
She sat down and wiped her eyes.
“No,” she said, staring at the piece of paper.
She unfolded it and reread Nick’s words.
He didn’t want to love her?
He didn’t want her?
He didn’t leave a phone number or an address. He didn’t even sign the letter. He was gone. He was just like her father. Nick had made her feel so special, so loved, and then he took all of that happiness and turned it into gut-wrenching pain.
“Why am I not enough?” she whispered into the dense foliage of her hiding place.
She was a fool. She’d never seen it coming with her father, and now, the same thing had happened with Nick.
Lindsey heard something. A pitiful noise that tore through her soul. It was her. She was sobbing. She looked down at Nick’s letter as her tears landed on the page with a steady tap, smearing the ink. Erasing the love she thought had just begun. A love she’d dreamed could have lasted a lifetime.
7
Present Day
Lindsey sank into the diner’s upholstered booth. The buzz of conversation calmed her frayed nerves. Noise meant people, and people meant safety. She looked out through the plate glass window into the parking lot. Every car had a Kansas license plate.
She was so close.
Three months of planning.
Three months of living in fear.
She just had to stay strong a little bit longer.
She pulled a map out of her purse and unfolded it. She had made it to Wichita. She was out of Texas. There were six hundred miles between herself and her old life in Houston. She pressed her finger to the map and traced the highlighted line from Wichita to Langley Park, Kansas—her final destination. Her fresh start. Their fresh start.
“Can I get you some coffee?”
Lindsey snapped her head up and folded the map into an untidy square.
A waitress. It was just the waitress.
She glanced at the menu. “I’ll take some herbal tea and the chicken sandwich, please.”
“Sure thing, hun.” The waitress’s eyes flicked to the map. “Where are you headed?”
“Springfield,” Lindsey answered. She hated to lie, but it was the only way to stay safe.
“I know Springfield. I’ve got a cousin there,” the waitress said with a grin. “Is that where your family’s from?”
“No, my friend lives there. She just had a baby, and I’m going to visit her.”
Provide information that sounds like you’re being personable but don’t reveal your true destination.
“How nice! Let me get that order in for you.”
“Is there a pay phone nearby?” Lindsey asked before the woman turned to go.
“Down the hall by the restrooms.”
She slid out of the booth and clutched her purse. She had almost eight thousand dollars in cash and three rolls of quarters. She picked up the receiver and peeled eight quarters off the top of the roll. Three months ago, using a pay phone seemed archaic. But pay phones were hard to track. Pay phones couldn’t pinpoint your longitude and latitude the way a cell phone could.
The phone rang once, then twice. “Please, pick up,” she whispered into the receiver.
“Hello?”
Lindsey exhaled in relief upon hearing her godmother’s voice.
“Rosemary, it’s me.”
“Is it safe to talk on this line, dear?”
“Yes, I’m on a pay phone. I made it to Wichita. I’m going to spend the night here and drive the rest of the way tomorrow.”
“Thank goodness,” her godmother said. “Were you able to pick up the car?”
Lindsey had taken the 12:45 a.m. Greyhound from Houston. She transferred to another bus in Dallas and spent the last eight hours making her way to Wichita, Kansas. Rosemary had purchased a car for her a week ago. It was waiting for her at the used car lot.
Lindsey rested her head against the wall. The sting of tears burned her eyes. “Yes, I just picked it up. It’s a lovely car. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I dragged you into all of this.”
“Sweetheart,” Rosemary said in a calm, steady voice. “You never have to apologize to me.”
When she had arrived at the women’s shelter in Houston three months ago, the first thing they told her was that, if possible, she needed to identify a contact person—someone she could trust with every aspect of her life. Her father wasn’t an option. They hadn’t communicated in years. Her mother had passed away, and her ex-fiancé, Brett Mathews, had made damn sure she didn’t have anyone significant in her life besides him. Lindsey hadn’t spoken to Rosemary Giacopazzi in well over a decade. But when she phoned her godmother, the woman didn’t hesitate to say yes when Lindsey asked for help.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Lindsey. Nothing
. I loved your mother. She was one of my dearest friends, and I love you, too. I know your mother would be proud of you.”
“But the money,” Lindsey said.
“It’s your money, sweetheart. You know your mother only left it to me to keep it safe for you. If you ever…”
“If I ever left him.”
“Yes,” her godmother replied. “She knew you weren’t calling the shots. She knew Brett was manipulating you.”
“How could I have not have seen it, Rosemary? How did I let it get this bad?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. He abused you. He terrorized you,” Rosemary said, her tone firm but even.
“I know but…”
“But nothing. You’re Lindsey Davies now. Lindsey Hanlon is gone. Brett doesn’t know I’m your godmother. He knows nothing of Langley Park. You’re going to be safe here.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Safe. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt safe. She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope with an address and a silver key.
718 Foxglove Lane, Langley Park, Kansas.
“Can I go straight to the house?”
“Yes,” Rosemary said. The smile was back in her voice. “It’s all ready for you.”
“You’ll be close by?”
“Less than a five-minute drive,” Rosemary answered.
A mechanical voice came on the line. Time was almost up.
Lindsey swiped at a tear. “Thank you, Rosemary.”
“This is your fresh start, sweetheart. Get some rest. I’ll see you soon.”
She was just about to hang the handset back into the cradle when a loud crash ricocheted through the restaurant. Her gaze shot to a man with dark hair and broad shoulders.
She froze like a cornered animal. “He found me.”
The man bent down and started picking up pieces of broken glass and plates. Lindsey blinked and stared at him. It wasn’t Brett. It wasn’t the man who had spent the last three years manipulating her mind, breaking her body, and crushing her soul. She opened her purse, and, with a shaky hand, grabbed the roll of quarters and emptied several into her palm. She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, reset the line, and deposited several coins. She didn’t count how many went in. The crash of the bus boy’s tray had left her mind too frazzled.
The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5) Page 57