Where We Belong (Carolina Rebels Book 8)
Page 11
“The r-word?” I ask with confusion.
“Retirement,” she explains. “At one point, he couldn’t even see himself retiring.” Deanna shrugs. “He’s realizing it’ll happen, though.”
At least I know this is normal for Collin. I ask Deanna about her business, catch up with that, and by that time, we’ve arrived at a restaurant.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Sydney. I thought about inviting Raelynn, I like her, but you seemed to like Sydney a little more. Plus, she can get a babysitter a little easier than Raelynn.”
“That’s fine.”
Sydney sits at the table already. I like the place they’ve chosen. It’s a casual restaurant that serves Southern comfort food, exactly what I need tonight. We spend the first few minutes deciding what to eat and placing our orders. All I can think about is Dwight and whether I should tell Collin.
It’s no surprise that I blurt out, “Do you keep secrets from your boyfriends? Husband?” I correct when looking at Sydney.
Their eyes widen. Sydney is the first to speak.
“Tell him. Don’t keep a secret. Granted, my secret was huge and I did sort of try to tell Ian, but I could have tried harder. Tell him. It’s not worth what it will do to your relationship, Julie.”
Deanna nods her head. “If it’s the real thing, don’t wait to talk and don’t keep anything from him. I did it one time with Brayden and it will be the last time. His anger and hurt wasn’t worth it.”
“How long did you keep the secret?” I ask.
“Years,” Sydney answers first and then Deanna says, “Maybe a few weeks, if that?”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Sydney asks.
“No.” Deanna’s hand lands on mine. “You can’t tell us and not tell Collin. That won’t go over well either. Unless you plan to tell him, too?” Then her eyes narrow. “Does this have anything to do with those bruises you had?”
“What bruises?” Sydney asks.
The bell jingles loudly over the noise of the restaurant and draws my attention to the door.
There he is.
Dwight.
He smiles at me and takes a seat at an empty table.
“Julie?”
I force myself to focus on the company I’m with. “What if he can’t help me? What if no one can help me?” Dwight has been successfully eluding the police in Florida for months and the police here don’t even know about my situation.
The women exchange a look. “Julie, what is going on?” Deanna asks.
“You know what, forget it. I’ll tell Collin,” I lie. I ask Sydney about her kids and her husband and at least get the conversation on a different topic, although it takes a moment before they go with it.
Our food comes a little bit later. Before we dive in, Sydney needs a restroom break and Deanna says she does too.
No.
If I go with them, I have to walk past Dwight.
If I don’t, I’m left alone.
There is no good option here.
Being near him is as dangerous as staying put. Crowded restaurant and friends near or not, if he wants me to come with him, he will find a way to do it and threaten me in just the right way so I’ll cooperate.
Trust me, I know.
In the end, I decide to stay. Maybe he will watch from a distance. I can’t help but watch him. Wait to see what his next move will be. The moment the women walk past him, he stands and heads my way. A cinder block settles in my stomach. If I get up and make a run for it, he’ll only follow.
Dwight takes Deanna’s seat.
“That was sneaky of you, Julie. Booking a flight to New York, but getting off at one of your layovers and driving to another airport. It took me longer than I’d like to admit to figure out why you weren’t in the Big Apple. But now, I’ve found my angel.” He grins and puke rises in my throat. “Did you like your gift?”
“I haven’t opened it.”
Dwight frowns. “Well, open it when you get home.” His frown deepens. “Speaking of, you need to come back with me. Living with that guy is unacceptable.” He manages a shrug. “But we’ll fix that soon enough. I do like that you’re allowing me to play my favorite game of cat and mouse again.” He checks his watch and stands. “Until we meet again, Julie.” My body turns to solid ice as he leans over and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be watching,” he adds in a whisper.
The door to the restaurant swings closed as my new friends are walking out of the bathroom.
What in the world am I supposed to do now?
Dwight is in his torture-by-watching stage right now. Everywhere I go, he makes sure I spot him. Go to the grocery store with Collin? He’s holding an apple in the fruit and veggie section as if he’s shopping too. Leaving work? He’s parked in a space I’ll have to walk by to get to my car. Go to a game since Collin is playing again? He does one of those stupid dances to get himself noticed and on the big screen so I’ll see him.
The man is everywhere.
This phase won’t last long, but I prefer it to the next one. The next one is scarier. Waiting for it is torture. I still haven’t told Collin. He’s so happy and making progress both on and off the ice. Cal will kill me if I’m the one to ruin that.
Which brings me to something else I’ve contemplated: telling Cal. It’s crazy, I know. But some stupid part of me thinks if I tell him, he can help me keep the secret from Collin while figuring out what to do. Running didn’t help. The police can’t manage to catch him. At least those in Florida never could.
I’ve even thought that maybe I’m not meant to be happy. Otherwise, why would I have so much bad luck? What if I’ve done something at some point for me to deserve what Dwight wants from me?
“Jules.” A kiss lands on my temple and it’s followed by a sigh. “Talk to me,” Collin pleads. “Why aren’t you happy?”
“I’m happy,” I protest, but I can’t get the truth to convey fully in my voice.
He shakes his head. “Something has changed; you don’t act the same. Let me fix it.”
This is it. The perfect opportunity to tell him.
Cal bursts through the door. “We’re in!”
“What?” Collin asks, his mind still on me.
“Boston lost. We’re going to the playoffs.”
I’ve never understood exactly how a team gets into the playoffs when it comes down to the final hour, but apparently, the Carolina Rebels are going. I don’t even know how we got to April as fast as we did.
But I know I lost my perfect opportunity thanks to Cal.
Cal walks straight to the fridge and grabs three beers. He hands one to each of us. “Let the journey be tough but let us be tougher.” He clinks the neck of his beer against ours and takes a seat next to his brother. “What do you think our chances are?”
“Well, we’re the underdog and barely squeaked in,” Collin says, giving me an uneasy look. He much prefers we still be having a private conversation.
Cal rolls his eyes. “Have more faith.”
He’s talking to Collin, but I feel as if he’s talking to me. I need to have more faith. In myself, in Collin, in the police. The first thing I need to do is take my copy of police reports, the gifts Dwight has sent, and see what the police here may be able to do. And then, I need to tell Collin.
I rest my head on Collin’s shoulder while the twins talk. This entire situation is wearing me down.
“You okay, Julie?” Cal asks.
“That’s it! Even Cal can tell something is wrong,” Collin exclaims, his eyes wide with worry.
“I’m fine,” I reassure them both. “I’m tired is all.” I kiss Collin’s cheek and then stand. “I should get some rest. Good night, guys.” Before Collin can argue with me, I hurry to our bedroom. I’ve been so emotionally and mentally exhausted that I’ve had no trouble falling asleep lately. Today is no different.
Just when my life is getting back on track, something else is falling apart. Once I agreed with my sports psycho, it took one week before I was clea
red to practice again with the team. Granted, I have had to really analyze my relationship with my brother. They may have been right about a few things. I’m working on it. That and keeping my anxiety under control. The new meds are helping a lot, but I’m still having some day-to-day anxiety as well as some where hockey is concerned.
Playing in that game last night did wonders for my soul. I felt like myself for the first time in ages. It took until the third period to fully shake my nerves, but I don’t mind. Things will only continue to get better.
The next step is to become fully confident again and figure out what the hell is going on with my girlfriend. She’s been acting unusual for weeks now. What I don’t understand is why she isn’t confiding in me. We’ve always been able to talk to one another, but she’s holding back.
“She’s not talking to you?” Cal asks, reminding me that he’s still here.
“No. She says she’s fine, but…” my voice trails off.
“She’s lying,” Cal confirms.
I glance over at him. “You see it too?” When he nods, I frown. “I don’t know why she won’t talk to me.”
“Who knows when it comes to Julie.” Believe it or not, Cal has been a lot nicer toward Julie. They’ve reached a point where they can get along without snapping at one another. It’s made my life a lot easier and everyone a lot happier.
My gaze moves to my closed bedroom door. Life doesn’t want anyone to be completely happy all the time, though. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here, worried about Julie. Things get better, things get worse. Never are all things all better at once. But I made a promise to myself to be more positive. Julie is here. I am back with the team and not playing terribly. Cal and Julie are getting along. All of that counts for something.
Cal hangs around for a while before leaving me alone. I eventually join a sleeping Julie. Even asleep, she looks unhappy. Her lips dip downward the tiniest bit. There’s a wrinkle between her brows. Her eyes seem to be squeezed so tightly closed as if there’s something in our world running after her and she’s closing her eyes before the terrible blow.
I draw her into my arms, hoping for a tomorrow where Julie doesn’t have any worries on her mind.
In the morning, I find Julie snuggled so close against me. Her nails dig into my side with enough bite to be uncomfortable. But the cutest little snore rattles up from the back of her throat and makes me smile. Something is bothering my Jules; I will be getting to the bottom of it. It’s confirmed when I lightly run my hand down her back and it startles her awake.
Her eyes don’t flash open with pleasant surprise, but straight up terror.
“Jules,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” That has never scared her before.
She blinks for a solid thirty seconds, as if she isn’t quite there and it takes that long for her to come to her senses. “Hi.”
“Hey.”
“I had a nightmare, I think,” she explains.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t really remember it.” She hides her face in the crook of my neck.
“Want to talk about what’s been bothering you then?”
“Collin,” she whispers.
“Julie,” I whisper back.
She giggles. “I love you.”
“I love you too. I’d love you more if you’d trust me and tell me what is going on.”
Julie sighs. “I need some time. I do trust you, too.”
But she’s scared; that much is evident. I don’t know how else to soothe her fear, whatever that might be exactly. She’s closing me out, but she also isn’t budging. For now, I’ll let it go.
For now.
I grab her wrists and quickly move us so Julie lies on her back with me on top of her. There’s a subtle, immediate change when she gets horny. Her breathing shallows out for one quick second. I grin and grind my hips against hers.
“Excited, Jules?”
“About what?” she asks plainly, causing my grin to widen.
“If you don’t want me, I can go take my shower.” I pull myself away only an inch’s worth and Julie tugs me back.
“I do want you, Collin.”
That’s all I need to hear, so I lean down to kiss her.
“Nervous?” Cal asks just loud enough for me to hear him as we skate on the ice during warm ups. “Because of Julie, I mean.”
It’s game night and Julie is here watching. It took way more convincing than I thought it would to get her to come to a game, but she relented eventually.
Am I nervous?
“No,” I answer honestly. “She didn’t want to come,” I admit.
“Because of the spouses?” he questions.
For some reason, I don’t think that was it, but I simply shrug.
“Well, let’s focus on what’s important right now: the game.”
Despite what I told my twin, there is some anxiety spreading through my veins. I don’t think it’s because Julie is here watching me, though. There is no time to dwell on it; the puck drops before I feel ready mentally. One of the things I’ve learned is how to effectively shut down my incessant thoughts and find one purpose. My purpose right now is to regain puck control.
I’m within reach of the guy in front of me. My stick stretches out ahead of me, to his right. If I could just graze the puck enough to slip it from his grasp. Cal comes up on my side, momentarily distracting him just long enough for me to close more of the space between us, and swipe the puck. In one swift move, I turn and send the puck to the nearest Rebel, who can take off and face the goalie. His shot is fast and good.
Celebrating with my teammates feels surreal compared to where I was a few weeks ago. But I’ll savor every second on the ice because I don’t know when I’ll have my last shift. It could be years from now, or it could be tonight if some unfortunate injury were to happen. But my anxiety won’t get in the way again if I can help it.
The game wears on, becoming more and more physical. I won’t have to worry about my anxiety wearing me out tonight; the game is doing that for me. This game gets intense too. Three fights break out in the third period, energizing the crowd to a height not yet reached tonight. My head stays up. My nerves stay level. And I make it through without any major issues. I’d call that a successful night.
I’m almost to my apartment door when a pair of footsteps from behind me causes me to glance over my shoulder. It’s just some guy, but he’s watching me with a little too much interest. Enough so that with one hand on my doorknob, I feel compelled to speak to him.
“Can I help you?” I ask. All I want is to fall into bed after the grueling game we had.
“Julie isn’t yours to have, you know.”
All I can do is stare, dumbfounded. Then it hits me. This guy thinks I’m Collin. “What?” is my genius response. “Who are you?” I tack on.
His head cocks to the side in such a calculating manner, it’s unnerving. “Dwight. Julie’s fiancé.”
My hand falls from the doorknob as I turn to face the guy. “What?” I repeat, partly outraged, partly confused. This is fucking crazy. Julie is a bitch and everything, but surely, she wouldn’t do this to my brother.
“See, we got into a fight before she decided to run away and come up here. She obviously didn’t tell you about me, but she’s come to her senses now. She’ll be coming back home with me. I just thought I’d give you a heads-up.”
“Why should I believe anything you say?” After all, he’s some random guy who followed me into my apartment building to confront me about this shit.
He reaches into his pocket, takes a step forward, and hands me a well-worn folded piece of paper. I open it up to see a photo of the two of them. It has a timestamp with a date soon before I found out about Julie being here. That’s all I need to see to have my blood boiling. When I look up, Dwight is gone.
Without any thought, I take two steps to my brother’s apartment and bang on the door.
“You!” Cal points an accusatory finger a
t me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Hey!” Collin shoves him back, even though Cal doesn’t stand but a few feet inside of the apartment. “What the fuck is your problem?”
I stand as Cal throws a photo my way. “Tell him,” he demands as I walk over to pick it up. My heart shatters when I see it. The photo Dwight made me pose for the last time he had me. “Tell him!” Cal shouts again.
“Where did you get this?”
“Your little fiancé caught me outside, thinking I was Collin,” he spits, venom in his voice.
“Fiancé?” Collin asks with confusion.
“Apparently, she’s seeing you on the side,” Cal tells him.
All I can do is stare at the shaking photo, knowing that Dwight was just outside. He’s escalating. He’s done waiting. He’s coming for me.
It’s not until Collin speaks that I realize he’s standing in front of me, looking down at the photo as well. “Jules?” My mouth opens to tell him the truth, but the words get hung in my throat. “Is this what you didn’t want to tell me?”
“You’re such a fucking bitch!” Cal yells, pacing behind his twin as if he’s just as affected. Some part of my brain is completely amazed by how Cal is frantic and angry, while Collin is calm and disappointed.
“How do you explain this?” Collin asks, probing me to speak.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I quietly say, which turns out to be the worst thing to say. Collin’s shoulders sag as if I confirmed what Cal told him.
“Get out.” Cal comes to stand next to his brother, his voice even and deadly. “If that’s all you can say, get the fuck out.”
My eyes search Collin’s, looking for something contrary to what Cal has said, but I don’t see it. “There’s an explanation for this.” I wave the photo.
“Look at the date,” Cal instructs.
I don’t need to, but his brother does. And that makes his eyes flash. “This is the bastard that beat you?”