Banks nodded.
“I asked the old man that we bought the land from,” he said. “Saw him at the diner. Apparently, the donkey and the old man’s dead wife were pretty close. The donkey likes to visit her grave.”
I blinked as a wave of emotion rolled through me.
“That’s kind of sweet,” I said.
Banks’ eyes went intense then.
“Was what you said earlier true?” he asked.
I didn’t have to ask him what.
I knew what.
He knew what, too.
My non-answer was enough of an answer.
That was when Banks looked at me like I’d broken his heart.
“Have a good night, Candy Ray Sunshine,” he whispered. “And I won’t call you that name again.”
Thank God.
But also, holy shit.
“’Night, Banks Valentine.”
Chapter 7
I don’t want to end the year on bad terms with you. So apologize to me.
-Banks to Candy
Banks
“You know,” I heard Desi, my brother Callum’s woman, say. “I heard something today that concerned me.”
I looked over to Desi to see that she was staring at me with a look that I couldn’t quite decipher in her eyes.
“What?” I asked, trying to chew all the way before swallowing the delicious pie that Desi had made.
Desi was the ranch’s resident cook. She did breakfast and dinner, and also went well out of her way to ensure that we always had something sweet to eat.
Tonight, it was apple pie.
“What?” I repeated again, this time feeling something lock in my belly at the look on her face.
Desi dropped the towel that was in her hands and leaned her hips against the counter.
“Her best friend, Mack, came into the store today,” she said softly.
The ‘store’ that Desi was talking about was the coffee shop that she and Candy had just opened up. Candy worked the front part of the shop while Desi worked the back.
In the back, Desi made cakes and delicacies to sell alongside the coffee and coffee beans that Candy sold out of the front. Candy was the face of the bakery/coffee shop while Desi made her living in the shadows. Which was exactly how she liked it, according to Desi.
“Okay,” I said. “What about him?”
“Well, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” she hedged. “But I was peeing, and taking a wee bit of a break, and Candy and Mack came up to talk right outside of the bathroom. He said something that concerned me.”
I had a feeling where this was going.
“And…”
“And he said something about her trying to hurt herself,” Desi said. “And at first, I think Mack was just worried about her. That she’s working too hard. Doing too much. He said that she was going to hurt herself like she did a long time ago, and she might not be as lucky as she was then.”
I felt something inside my gut clench at her words.
“What else?” I asked, belly in knots and my throat sounding like I’d gargled with gravel.
“She didn’t deny that she’d done it,” she said. “Or that she was doing it. But… I…” She swallowed. “I can’t shake the feeling that something more is going on. I’ve watched her a lot while we’ve been working together over the last couple of months. Something is wrong.”
Candy’s words from last night haunted me.
“I almost killed myself over that nickname in high school. I definitely don’t want to be thinking of that time in my life again.”
I wondered if her words last night had been to shock me. I also wondered if she knew that her father had already told me what she’d tried to do.
Whatever the reason for her opening up for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t going to let it go like I did all those years ago.
I wanted to know why she did what she did.
Certainly, it couldn’t be because of me, could it?
“I already planned on talking to her about it,” I admitted, drawing in a deep breath and then letting it out. “She tried to kill herself in high school.”
Desi drew in a deep breath. “What? Callum never said…”
“I never told Callum,” I admitted. “I never wanted anybody to know. Didn’t want that pall hanging over her head if I could help it. But, saying that, I think you need to know. Maybe so you can watch over her.” I paused. “I don’t think that she’d ever do it again. But… just in case.”
Desi’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears as she looked ready to commit murder.
“Who hurt her?” she asked.
I pointed at myself.
“Me.”
I’d hurt her. I’d been the reason for her harming herself. It’d all been because of…
“You weren’t the reason.”
Both of us paused as we looked at Candy where she was standing just inside the storage room door. A door that had been closed for the majority of the time that I’d been in here with Desi.
Fuck.
“Candy…” I started to say.
Her eyes turned to me.
“I’m only going to share this once, because I don’t want to ever have to say it again.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I was raped that night. I’m not going to say what I did was right, but my head had been fucked up. I’d felt really…dirty.” She swallowed hard. “And I acted impulsively and didn’t think through my actions before I committed them. I regret my actions every day. I regret putting my mother and father through that. Even more so, I regret ever giving the boy that hurt me the satisfaction of almost winning.”
Each of her words tore through me like a metal shard. Raped. Dirty. Impulsively.
When she should’ve been with me at the dance, she’d been raped. When I should’ve been watching her back, she was fighting not to be violated.
Nausea boiled in my gut, and I closed my eyes as I tried to breathe through the pain that was rioting through my veins.
“I’m okay now,” she said.
Desi placed her hand on my chest and patted it. “I’ll leave y’all alone for a few minutes. Take care of the front while y’all talk.”
Before either Candy or I could protest, Desi was gone, leaving us in an uncomfortable silence.
“It’s not your fault,” she repeated.
I laughed harshly at that.
“You’re saying that if I had been there, it would’ve still happened?” I wondered.
Honestly, I was surprised that my voice was as clear and strong as it sounded. I felt weak and empty on the inside.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “What if I would’ve gone to the bathroom in between dances? That was what I was doing. Going to the bathroom. He found me outside the bathroom and pulled me into him. I didn’t have a chance to scream before his hand was covering my mouth.”
The thing was, I knew she was trying to make me feel better. Only, she wasn’t making me feel better at all. She was making me feel worse.
“Who was it?” I asked, trying to force the words past my tight throat.
“I’m sure,” she said softly. “If you took the time to think about it, you’d know.”
And I knew then, without her saying his name, exactly who it was.
“You fought him,” I said.
She nodded. “I did.”
“He went to jail.” I licked my dry lips. “You went to the police. And he was found guilty.”
“He did,” she confirmed.
“He’s still in prison.” I gritted my teeth.
“Yes,” she continued.
“Good,” I hissed.
Her mouth tipped up at the corner. “Very good.”
“If he ever gets out…” I started.
Her smile was broad. “You have my permission to do whatever the hell that you want to him.”
I burst into laughter.
The bad thing was, if he ever
got out, I might very well do that.
“Umm,” I heard said from the doorway. “I hate to interrupt, but you have about five people in line, and they’re getting antsy.”
Desi, who’d frozen in the doorway on her way back, cursed and started for the door.
However, Candy held her up with a quick, “I’ll go.”
Then she was gone, leaving Desi and I standing there looking at each other.
“Holy shit,” Desi breathed. “I would’ve never guessed.”
Something dark filled me at her words.
“She hides it well,” I found myself saying.
“She sure does,” Desi replied.
Chapter 8
There is only one reason I’m shaving my legs today. And that’s because I can feel my leg hair through my leggings.
-Candy’s secret thoughts
Candy
“Tell me why we’re here again?” I tried to sound like I was mad, but I wasn’t really accomplishing the impossible feat.
“Because my wife actually said she wanted to go eat, and you know that she’s more comfortable when you’re around to talk to the strange people that inevitably will show up at the table?” Mack said.
I sighed. “Mack, y’all should be enjoying a date night on your own.”
Mack shot me a look.
“Listen, Candy,” Mack said. “I don’t often get to go out to eat. You’re going tonight even if I have to drug you and forcibly make you sit at the table.”
My lips kicked up at the corner, and I turned when the door behind us opened.
Amity looked at us with a freaked out look on her face.
“I think that we should find somewhere else to go,” she suggested.
Both Mack and I visibly wilted.
We loved this place.
We’d made reservations and had actually gotten them.
Neither of us wanted to go to a different place.
“Why, honey?” Mack asked.
Amity winced. “There’s a shit ton of people in there.” She paused. “Including the Valentines.”
That was when I realized that she wasn’t backing out because she was overwhelmed, but because she was worried about me.
I smiled then, bright and cheerful.
“I can handle Banks Valentine,” I proclaimed.
Amity looked at me with a worried glance, then shrugged. “You can use me as a reason to leave if it comes down to it.”
I snickered.
“Thanks, friend,” I said, looping my arm with hers. “Did they get us a corner table?”
She nodded.
“Is it right by the Valentines?” I asked, guessing that was part of her apprehension.
“Yes,” she sighed. “I considered asking them to move us, but then we would’ve likely been in the front of the room, or the middle, and I would’ve had to deal with all of that, too. It’s a lose-lose situation.”
Honestly, whatever made Amity the most comfortable, I was going to go with.
Amity being out in public was a rare thing. Her anxiety kept her from interacting with people very often, and when she did manage to get out there, we tried to make it as easy for her as possible.
Because Amity had been there for me for a long time, and I would do just about anything for her.
“Let’s go,” she sighed. “I’m feeling good today. I have a good feeling.”
I glanced over at Mack who’d dropped his hand to his wife’s lower back.
He looked at me over her shoulder with wide eyes, and I shrugged.
“I saw that,” she said as she moved.
Mack’s lips twitched, and he dropped a kiss down onto the top of her head. “You were meant to, honey.”
She tossed him a look over her shoulder, and I trailed behind, looking for my phone so I could take a picture of the two of them.
When I realized that I didn’t have it with me, I cursed and said, “I’ll catch up. I left my phone in the car, and I’m expecting a text from my dad on how his tests went today.”
My dad was a home builder and remodeler for the East Texas area. A few months ago, he started having problems with his hands, and it wasn’t until a few days ago that something started going wrong with them to the point that he couldn’t even grip a pencil anymore.
“Okay,” Mack said. “Do you want your usual?”
I grinned. “Yep.”
Mack tossed me a thumbs up over his shoulder and held the door open for Amity.
I turned on my heel and hurried out to the parking lot and my car, cursing silently when I couldn’t find my keys in my black hole of a purse.
“Need a light?”
I squeaked and jumped, heart in my throat, and squinted when I saw a solid figure wearing all dark clothes standing a couple of feet behind me.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I said to Banks. “But yes, I’ll take you up on the light. I can’t find my keys.”
He pulled an actual flashlight out of his pocket.
It was a mini one that was connected to his keychain, and pink.
I smiled as I saw it.
“I like it,” I said as I started digging in my purse.
He looked into my purse with me and started chuckling.
“Is there anything that you don’t have in there?” he wondered.
I felt my cheeks flush.
There was no doubt in my mind that he’d seen my panties.
“Probably,” I admitted. “I keep a fresh pair of underwear, tampons, a granola bar for hunger emergencies, a small bottle of water, a…”
I went on and on, listing the things I had in my purse.
“Are you sure that they’re not in your pocket?” he asked after I’d all but dumped the contents of my purse onto the roof of my car.
“Ummm,” I hesitated, feeling my pants pockets. “No…”
I felt something tug free from my back pocket and then felt myself blush as he held my keys out in front of me. “Now I remember putting them there,” I muttered darkly.
He grinned and stepped back, giving me room.
I shoved all of my shit back into my purse and unlocked my car, coming up short when I couldn’t find my phone, either.
“Swear to God,” I said. “If that’s in my purse or my pocket…”
He chuckled then said, “What’s your number?”
I thought about not giving it to him for all of two-and-a-half seconds, then decided, fuck it.
After giving it to him, he typed the entire number into his phone, then hit go.
I heard it ringing somewhere in my car.
Putting one knee into the seat, I cursed myself for my messiness. If the damn car was clean, and I hadn’t left a weeks’ worth of clothes in the passenger seat, I might very well have found it on my own.
I pulled it out with a muttered oath, then tossed it into my purse.
“Thanks,” I said as I backed out of the car. “That would’ve taken forever to find. It was somehow in between all of my shirts that I’ve been meaning to take to the laundromat.”
“No problem,” he muttered. “But you should probably take all those clothes to the cleaners or you’re not going to have anything to wear.”
I scoffed at him over my shoulder as I shouldered my bag, then locked my car.
“I’ll have plenty to wear,” I assured him. “This is only a small fraction of my closet. I’ve turned into a clothes whore since I’ve grown boobs.”
Banks stayed silent for a moment as he processed that new information.
“I…”
My phone rang before he could answer, and I halted in mid-step and scrambled to find my phone.
I answered just in time.
“Daddy?” I called.
“Hey, baby,” Dad said from the other end of the line. “Everything went okay. But they say I need surgery.”
I wilted. “Surgery? Why?”
“The nerves in my hand are being co
mpressed by…” he droned on and on with medical jargon that I had no idea what it meant. But, by the time he was finished, I knew that he was having surgery next week and almost immediately after surgery he’d have use of his hands again.
“That’s good news,” I said in reply. “I hate that you have to have it, though.”
“Me, too,” he admitted. “Rehab on them is going to be a bitch. And I have the Valentine job coming up… it’s going to be a nightmare if I can’t work.”
I thought about it for a long moment.
“I can sign off on all the paperwork and checks. I can come before we open and after we close,” I paused. “You can have me for about four hours every day. That way if you have any problems arise I can do all the payroll and all that fun stuff, as well as anything else you need. I’m still a signer on your account.”
He grunted out a ‘yeah.’
“What is it?” I asked.
“I just didn’t want you to have to do that now that you’ve got your own business to run,” he admitted. “Having to come back to your old job is no fun.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Dad, it’s not a job. It’s a family business,” I told him. “And I have no problem with it at all. Your office is on the way to the coffee shop. It’s seriously no skin off my nose. And the Valentines live fairly close to us. If anything arises at the job site, I can handle it. You forget that I’m now working with Desi?”
He grumbled something under his breath that sounded like, “Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen.”
I giggled.
My dad had first told me about the Valentine house four or so months ago. Since then, both Ace and Callum Valentine had gotten married, and their plans for the house had changed at least six times now.
They kept adding on amendments left and right.
Needless to say, Dad was not happy.
But, as I told him, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the Valentines would be great references to have seeing as they were such big parts of the town. Even if they didn’t want to be.
“Anyway, I know you’re out to dinner with your friends. I’ll let you go,” he said. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I said, then hung up the phone.
“Surgery?”
I jumped, momentarily stunned to see Banks still standing there with me in the middle of the parking lot.
Chute Yeah Page 4
