She paced, estimating one of two things could happen if she spoke to him about this.
He would tell her she was crazy and jumping to conclusions, things she could almost agree to at the moment. Or, he would go into the protective mode and try to solve her problems for her. Which would definitely not be on the down-low. And he was the single person who would be most in danger.
Someone was targeting any man she appeared to be with romantically. Norbert didn’t fit, but she couldn’t see any other reason why Denner, whoever was stalking her, would be connected to Norbert’s death, John’s murder, and her Churchston friends’ injuries.
She dialed and left the contaminated phone on speaker. As she waited and prayed for Gannon to answer, she tried to rehearse what she would say, but no words came. At his voicemail she left a message and hoped it was coherent enough for him to understand.
Knocks sounded on the door.
Not like I can hide in the bathroom all night.
She pulled herself together and finished her shift. Alan checked on her often, asking if she was alright. She overheard her coworkers debating over her behavior. Mick insisted she was doped up, while Jaycee explained it as a pending period.
Instead of going to the garage to wait for Will to be done working like she usually did, she went home to the townhouses. She showered, hoping her funk and runaway imagination would rinse down the drain. No such luck.
She walked to Will’s to make a simple dinner. When he came home, he fussed over her, paying no attention to the food. She couldn’t help but feel like a deer in the headlights. His concern turned to frustration when she wouldn’t talk and tell him what was wrong.
She didn’t mean to shut him out but she had to figure it out, had to know if he was going to be targeted.
Gannon still hadn’t called back.
They made love, so slowly and agonizingly sweet. Kelly bit back the tears in her eyes.
He loved her. He couldn’t say it, but he did.
She tried not to think of what her life would be like without him. Instead, she made a plan.
Chapter 44
I’m losing her.
Kelly had already left for work by the time Will came back from his run. He sensed the distance growing between them. She had avoided meeting his eyes. The blue-greens dark and worried as though she had been debating whether or not to leap off a high dive.
He was beside himself at the garage. He checked the little box was in his drawer. As if it was a magnet, he came to his office after every job to assure himself it was still there. It sat there, taunting him when he couldn’t ask her.
Will. You. Marry. Me.
Four words. How hard could it be?
Or he’d be himself and go for two.
Marry. Me.
He guessed he was losing her because he was too guarded, too scared to chance her saying no. Too bruised to have her accept and someday leave. He brainstormed a proposal, even tried the three scariest words in his life.
I. Love…
He couldn’t do it.
Cold memories of his childhood blurred his mind. He had never been good enough. Good for nothing. Unwanted.
The stress had him all thumbs at work. He couldn’t turn the wrenches. Nuts and bolts slipped to the ground. Gaskets wouldn’t line up.
I. Love…
***
Kelly sat on the deck of the boat which had almost killed her, acid tossing the breakfast in her stomach.
Had that been an accident? She narrowed her eyes as she focused through the binoculars.
Someone had been watching her. Someone had been targeting the people in her life.
Accident my ass.
The people on the boat the day she had fallen off the skis were all Churchston locals. She couldn’t explain how someone from Churchston could have killed John in Atlanta. She couldn’t let go of the Denner receipt showing up at Alan’s.
Coincidences were crap. What were the odds the name could have shown up in Betsy’s car, John’s condo, and Alan’s? From Atlanta to Churchston? She Googled the name last night. No known Denners in Churchston. The only connection she could figure, was herself.
Someone had been watching her, so from a distance on Randy’s boat, she watched everyone.
All of the men in her life came to or near the public beach. It made sense to her since she frequented it so often for work.
She had paid Allison two hundred dollars to sit at the kayak hut with her Braves hat. As they had nearly the same hair color, she was a decent live decoy in the shade of the hut. Kelly had promised to buy Junior whatever phone he wanted if he would run the hut for the day.
Telescopically, she spied on the beachgoers, especially the ones who seemed interested in the kayak hut. She had no idea who she could be looking for, so she limited her attention to the people who had been on the boat the night she was ran over.
Stella checked the activity of the hut. Daisy and Kendra looked Allison’s way. The lifeguard with freckles checked “her” out. Clay and Randy stopped by the hut but Junior must have followed her directions explicitly and told them she wasn’t there. Her excuse had been PMS, knowing the men wouldn’t question such a topic.
She watched. Her fear eliminated the possibility of boredom as she sat and spied, but as she didn’t have a focus, a target to follow, she fell to the habit of diagnosing.
With nurse’s eyes, she clinically spied on the crowd. She was overweight. He had fake hair. She had been shooting up. He had a scar from ATC surgery. She had a mastectomy. He probably had a herniated disk. He had an open bypass. She had a third-degree sunburn.
Men, women, young, old. She watched them all. Hair. Randy had the same blond as Allison. Eyes. Daisy seemed as high as the girl who was hitting on Brent. Mouths. Clay smiled as often as Jared did at the ice cream stand. Tattoos. Kelly rolled her eyes at Kendra’s tramp stamp. The solid black sun. It was asymmetrical. And trashy.
Her gaze roved over the people on the beach. One of them had been watching her, but who? Someone, other than Stella, had to have watched her with her friends. With her men.
I’ve got to be missing something. She checked face after face, focusing on the women, then the men. It could be either, she guessed. A man who had been angry she wasn’t choosing him, or a woman who was…jealous?
Her phone rang beside her. Will again. She hoped he would stay away until she could save him.
Chapter 45
The next morning, Will made up his mind.
It’s now or never.
He refused to accept the distance she was putting between them. She had barely looked him in the eyes last night.
He was going to ask her.
Delores. Eric. All of fucking Churchston. It wasn’t important anymore. They had never wanted him. Too damn bad. He had a woman who did and he wasn’t going to lose her. They’d move. He’d go up to Atlanta with her. Anywhere. As long as she was with him.
He had only come back to Churchston because he’d known no other place to go. But there wouldn’t be any lost love if he left with Kelly.
When Matt died, half his soul had been lost. Kelly, she was his whole soul. He knew if she left him, he’d be one sorry pathetic man for the rest of his life. He was already so destitute for her warm love that he was willing to risk proposing.
“Here goes,” he muttered to himself and dropped the old oil filter in the pan. Dark liquid splashed up on his already dirty jeans and he checked his appearance.
Stained, grimy, dirty, calloused. It was still warm for the fall so he had sweated through his t-shirt.
He glanced across the street at the hut. She leaned at the counter, staring at the waves. He wanted to go home and shower, make himself more presentable, but he nixed the plan. It was too tantalizing. She was right there. Yards away.
She hadn’t been the frilly kind to care about looks. She had seemed to love him no matter what, dirty, clean, clothed, or naked.
He wiped his hands on his jeans then washed them before he
retrieved the damn little box in his desk.
On the phone, Clay glanced up at him as he strode out of the garage into the sunlight.
He clenched his teeth together with tense fear. He wasn’t sure if he had ever been so intimidated before. Afghanistan came close. War had been life or death.
But so is Kelly.
The walk to the public beach felt like a hike through eternity, with the sun blasting down on him, everyone’s gaze scorching him. As he approached, she faced him. Her mouth opened as though he had surprised her. She clamped her lips shut and frowned as she surveyed the beach.
“Will. What a surprise. What brings you out into the real world?”
***
What the fuck is he doing out here!
Kelly knew he had a stubborn impatient streak. She loved that about him. It was no guess he was frustrated how she had been shutting him out, not sharing her mind.
Hadn’t he bought the lie about PMS-ing?
His steely stare gave the impression of determination and fear.
What’s he up to?
He gazed at her without a word. Gone was his usual stony expression of indifference.
Oh fuck. He was breaking it. He didn’t want to hide their relationship anymore. How could he, if he came up to the hut and stared at her with such intensity?
“Will?”
She tried to watch the beach from the corner of her eye, not able to tear hers from his. Everyone watched. She didn’t have to look to know.
The nearby quiet was tangible, as though respiration had suspended.
The good-for-nothing, sullen drunk crawled out of his hole to talk to her. They had the center stage.
He lowered to his good knee.
No. No. No. No.
She watched the strong cords in his neck stretch as he swallowed. Will looked at her with warmth in his eyes.
Oh my God. Tears burned. He wants to—he wants me to—Will wants to…
Sweat beaded and ran down her back.
“Kelly…” He paused.
She blinked quickly to stop the tears from starting. She cleared her throat. She couldn’t let her voice crack. She forced away any trace of love as she asked, “What are you doing?”
They’re watching. He. She. Someone. The person is watching. He can’t blow his cover now!
He set his jaw. “What it looks like.”
I can’t let him do this. I can’t lose him.
Her heart raced but her mind was faster.
He didn’t know it, but this was going to kill him. She didn’t know why or who, either, but she knew it was dangerous. What she had to do would hurt him, crush him, scar him like his parents had. But she had to. There was no other choice. She couldn’t let anyone know she loved him, or to know he was her man.
She didn’t know if he’d forgive her, if he’d still want her after she rejected him in such a cruel public way. But it couldn’t matter. She would take him alive and hating her before she’d let anyone hurt him again.
“Get off your knee.” She hoped she sounded every bit annoyed and flippant.
“Why?” He bore his gaze on her and she stiffened to stay strong.
“Because you’ve got a gross screwed-up leg.”
He made a fist around the little white box that had been so tiny in his large strong hand.
In her peripheral vision, she saw Delores. Oh. How she hated to do this to him.
He’ll never forgive me.
“Is there any point to even asking the question now?” His voice was like sandpaper. Lethal. Destroyed.
“No. No, I don’t want to marry you. Are you kidding me? Where the hell did you ever get such an idea?”
He stood and glared at her. She wanted to cringe at the embarrassment in his eyes, the pain and hurt as he wiped his hand over his mouth and hung his head down.
“Why the hell would I want to marry you?” she asked. “You’re the, the, um, the good-for-nothing town drunk! You’ve got to be kidding me!” She frowned more as he studied her, fearful he could read through her lies.
“You love me.”
“Love you? I don’t love you. What’s there to love? No one loves you, Will. No one ever will.” She put her hand on her hip as her knees weakened. He’s going to hate me forever.
There was no way she could tell him he was in danger, that she was faking it, that she would love to marry him. There was no way she could tell the truth because as soon as he sensed danger, he would insist on taking over.
And how to even begin to explain…? She inhaled deeply as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“You’re embarrassing me. You can take the ring. And. Rot. In. Hell.”
People gasped. Someone whispered ‘holy shit’. Soft murmurs and laughter rose as Churchston absorbed every drip of the drama right in front of their faces.
Will left in a fast stride, his face blank and stony like the gargoyle he had been when she met him. She couldn’t look. She couldn’t watch him go back to the garage, her heart ripping in half, chunks crumbling with every step he took.
Under the scrutiny of the crowd, she rolled her eyes. She posed as an annoyed and peeved woman all the while her hands trembled and her knees shook. She crossed her arms to hide the physical effects of fear.
“What was he smoking?” she jeered loudly before she went back in the hut.
Delores had yet to walk away, and the lifeguards remained as a shocked audience. Stella muttered at her lemonade stand. Jared shook his head over his ice cream freezers.
Fred cleared his throat as he walked through them. “Show’s over, everybody.” At his side, Eric chuckled, and Fred elbowed him.
Kelly bit the inside of her cheek to stop her trembling lips. She picked up the paperback Allison had left behind the day before, the words on the pages jack-hammering as she shook.
She needed to look up, she needed to check and see who was watching her. She waited until the tears ceased to soak the pages.
Chapter 46
Clay hung up the phone as Will came back to the garage.
Her words kept running in his mind like a broken record.
I don’t love you. No one loves you.
He exploded in rage and hurt.
God, the pain.
“Will? Yo man, what—” Clay chased after him. “Will? You alright?”
What’s there to love?
With a fierce kick, his boot sent his office door banging against the wall.
You’re embarrassing me.
He picked up his chair and slammed it to the ground, splintering a leg off.
“Will!” Clay rushed in after him, restraining his arm.
Will shook him off. He clenched his fingers on the edge of the desk and hung his head down, breathing hoarsely.
Oh God, it hurt.
He opened his hand and set the damned little box on the center on his desk. Shocked with pain, he almost couldn’t believe it.
She doesn’t love me. No one does.
“Whoa,” Clay whispered.
Will dragged his gaze up to his friend.
“Congrats?” Clay tried to smile.
Will snatched the box and ripped the drawer open. He threw it in and slammed the drawer shut hard enough to make the pens rattle in the coffee cup on top.
“Man, she’s a headstrong one. Let her think on it,” Clay said.
“She said she didn’t want to marry me. Didn’t know where I got the idea.”
Clay winced as Will paced.
“She said she didn’t love me. There’s nothing to love about me.”
Clay opened his mouth, but thought better.
“She told me to rot in hell!” Will yelled as Clay stood at the door.
“Hey man, she’s probably—”
“She told me to rot in hell,” Will repeated.
“Maybe she’s on the rag or something. Women are strange—”
“She told me to rot in hell.” Will lowered his voice, rolling the words through his memories.
“But I�
��m sure…”
Will ignored him, studying the door.
Kelly had leaned against that very door.
You know, scientifically, I don’t think that’s possible.
She wanted him to rot in hell. Told him so in front of everyone.
You could incinerate in hell if there is such a thing. But it doesn’t sound as demeaning as rot in hell.
She wants me to rot in hell?
He heard the words from her mouth.
It sounds stupid. How about burn in hell? Has a nice ring to it.
“Bullshit,” he said as he sank to the edge of his desk, unsure of his hesitation to accept her harsh rejection.
“Yeah, man, it is bullshit. But she can’t—”
But she’d never tell him to rot in hell.
She had declared it sounded stupid. It hadn’t been the real Kelly saying those words, the Kelly he knew and wanted forever. Those blue-greens weren’t skilled at stealth. When she had argued with him on the porch, destroying Matt’s railings, they sparked with challenge. When she scolded him on the beach, they flared with determination. When she curled next to him in bed, they melted with contentment.
When she had told him to rot in hell? They flashed with fear. Just like they had after the boat ran over her.
But did I ever really know her? Was it all a joke? No.
The Kelly he knew and wanted forever didn’t exist. She had burned him.
Waves of raw emotions flooded him again.
Pain. Rejection. Humiliation. Anger. Kelly hadn’t loved him. He was a fool. He should have remembered no one would love him.
He stood abruptly, feeling worse than he ever had in the aftermath of Matt’s death.
Going to the middle bay, he walked past Clay, dismissing his rambling explanations and sympathies.
Shutting out the world, Will resumed working as he tried to lock away his thoughts.
I’ve been a fool.
Never again, he promised himself. Never again.
For the rest of the day, he took solace in work, keeping his hands busy in hopes to forget Kelly’s rejection.
Seemed as though everyone dropped by the garage. Either everyone’s vehicle had to have broken down, or Churchston had been entertained. Some presented legitimate car trouble, but others appeared blatantly nosy and spiteful, coming to stare at him as though he was an injured monster.
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