When He Found Me (Road to Refuge Book 1)

by Victoria Bylin

  Coral lipstick glistened on the woman’s overly plump lips, and her hair, long like Daisy’s, shimmered with multiple shades of blond. The absence of even the faintest lines around her eyes gave her the look of frozen surprise that came with too much Botox. Daisy guessed her to be in her forties.

  Sighing, the woman removed a black watch case from her Coach handbag. “I want to make a donation.”

  “I’ll be glad to take it.” Daisy lifted the receipt book out of the drawer.

  The woman opened the lid, revealing a diamond watch glittering on white satin. “It’s a Rolex.”

  It had to be worth a thousand dollars, probably more. Daisy had no idea. Lyn would take it to a jewelry store to have it appraised, and sell it somewhere else on consignment.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off the stones twinkling like captive stars. “It’s beautiful. Are you sure you want to donate it?”

  “I’m positive. That watch was a big fat lie. My husband’s divorcing me.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Daisy wanted to say more, but nothing came out of her mouth. Eyes down, she wrote the receipt in her best printing and handed it to the woman. The woman pinched it between her fingers as if it were filthy, then strode out of the shop without another word. The Mercedes squealed away from the curb as quickly as it had appeared.

  The watch sparkled in the fluorescent light, reflecting a million pastel hues. Daisy touched it with tentative fingers, then draped it over her wrist. She had always liked playing dress-up, especially when she was little and her mother let her wear the dangly necklaces in her jewelry box.

  Turning her hand, she fastened the clasp. The watch fit perfectly, as if it were really hers. Pretending to be someone she wasn’t lifted her spirits, so she decided to show the watch to Chelsea before she placed it directly into Lyn’s hands.

  Daisy told Tina she was leaving, fetched her purse, and crossed the street to the coffee shop. She asked for a table in the back, then settled in to wait. Every minute or so, she peeked at the watch.

  Finally the door opened and Chelsea walked in. Daisy started to wave, saw Eric, and lowered her hand. His gray eyes locked on her face, and he stared in that special way of theirs. When he smiled, his bad-boy grin heated her blood, melted her bones, and turned her brain into mush.

  Her pulse tripped once in warning but sped up again. Eric looked so happy to see her, and her heart and body ached for him. A black T-shirt clung to his biceps and broad chest, and she knew it hid six-pack abs. His dark hair was freshly buzzed, but he hadn’t shaved. The stubble made him even sexier. But what charmed Daisy the most was being wanted.

  Common sense warned her to give Chelsea the money and leave. But Eric had been her friend, her lover, and she cared about him. Surely if she could stay sober for thirty days, she could handle Eric for thirty minutes.

  Chelsea slid into the seat across from her, then offered a nervous smile. “I hope it’s okay that I brought Eric.”

  It wasn’t, but Daisy was determined to be strong, even confident. She answered Chelsea with arched brows, a silent version of why?

  “He called me yesterday.” Chelsea gave Eric a look to include him, then turned back to Daisy. “He said he wanted to apologize to you—to fix things—and he was afraid you wouldn’t see him. I believed him about making things right, so here we are.”

  Chelsea should have called and asked permission, but she had a good heart and meant well. Mentally Daisy forgave her friend, then mustered her composure and gave Eric a curious look.

  “Hey, babe,” he drawled. “Mind if I sit with you?”

  “Sure. Why not?” She slid toward the window to make room for him.

  Chelsea opened a napkin, tucked it in her lap, then stared expectantly at Eric.

  He bumped Daisy’s shoulder with his bigger one, gently but with purpose. “I have big news, babe.”

  So did Daisy. Her AA chip meant the world to her. If Eric accepted her sobriety, could they be together again? She didn’t want to have feelings for him, to love him, but there was a hole in her heart that Eric filled.

  A waitress interrupted with menus and took drink orders. Chelsea asked for water with a wedge of lemon. Eric ordered two beers, one for him and one for her.

  Daisy signaled the waitress. “Just coffee for me.”

  Eric frowned. “You don’t drink coffee.”

  “I do now.”

  Chelsea’s brows arched. “Since when?”

  “Since a month ago.” Feeling bold, Daisy hooked her hair behind her ear. “I quit drinking.”

  Eric put his arm on the back of the booth, close to her shoulders but not touching. “Are you all right, babe?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Then why’d you quit drinking?”

  Daisy didn’t know how much to say. Eric knew her heart, her fears. But he also had given her a black eye and thrown out her Fig Newtons.

  The waitress brought the beverages and they ordered. Eric gulped the beer and signaled for another. Daisy fumbled in her purse, withdrew the envelope with the seven hundred dollars, and handed it to Chelsea. “That’s the money I owe you.”

  Chelsea shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “But—”

  Eric interrupted. “I took care of it.”

  Stunned, Daisy opened her mouth to say something, anything. But her tongue locked up.

  Before she could untangle it, Eric flashed his megawatt smile. “You’re talking to a movie star. I got the part in that new George Clooney movie.”

  Daisy gasped. “You did?”

  “Yeah. I’m playing his son.”

  His grin tripped every circuit in her female body. She gave him an awkward hug, then put the money back in her purse. Not only was she happy for Eric, she had seven hundred dollars. Tomorrow she could open a savings account.

  The food came. While they ate, Eric told funny stories about auditions, dropped big names, and made them all laugh with his dry sense of humor.

  Every time he grinned, Daisy relaxed a little more. When he was working, Eric treated her like a princess. He bought her things, and they laughed together. If his career took off, they could have a real future. Daisy had learned a lot in the past month, including how to hope. Hope had kept her sober for thirty days, and tonight she’d get a chip to prove it.

  Anticipating that moment, she looked at the watch. “I need to leave pretty soon.”

  Chelsea grabbed Daisy’s wrist and gasped. “Are those real diamonds? That watch is gorgeous.”

  Daisy preened. It wasn’t often that someone gushed over her. “It’s a Rolex. But it’s not mine. I borrowed it.”

  Eric grunted. “Are you sure it’s not from some guy?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good.” He downed the rest of his second beer, stood, and dropped a couple of twenties in front of Chelsea. “Take care of the check, will you? Daisy and I are going outside.”

  “Okay,” Daisy said. “But just for a few minutes. I really do need to leave.”

  “This won’t take long.” Eric placed a hand on the small of her back and pressed her toward the door.

  She traded good-byes with Chelsea, then walked with him to the parking lot behind the restaurant. A compressor hummed outside the kitchen, and cardboard boxes tumbled out of a packed dumpster, making a brown landslide of trash. Half a dozen cars, most of them shades of gray, filled the spaces painted on the cracked asphalt. Eric’s red Mazda Miata stood out like a fire truck.

  Roping his arm around her waist, he steered her to his car. “I’ve got something for you.”

  “What?”

  “Your cell phone.”

  He opened the door and she slid inside. Just like before, the bucket seat fit her body like a glove. She set her purse on the floorboard, relaxed into the buttery leather, and stole another glance at the Rolex. Four minutes and counting.

  Eric climbed in the driver’s side, reached in the console, and retrieved her phone.

  “Thanks.” Daisy
took it, their fingers brushing like feathers, then she dropped it in her open purse. When she faced Eric, he cupped her face with both hands and stared at her lips. Her heart leapt in anticipation, then she remembered the AA meeting. “Eric, I can’t—”

  “I love you.”

  He had said those words before, and like always, they made her toes curl. So did his breath in her ear and the whisper on her cheek. Eric’s temper scared her, but he could also be tender, even sweet. She saw that man now. If he could understand her, they might have a future.

  “I love you, too,” she admitted. “But I’ve changed.”

  He brushed her mouth with his lips. She smelled the beer, tasted the sour residue, and recoiled. No! Not again. No booze. She had worked too hard to stay sober for thirty agonizing days. No way would she crack open that door—not even for Eric. Not even to feel loved again.

  She jerked away. “Eric, no. I have to leave.”

  “Come on, babe. Kiss me.”

  “Eric—”

  He silenced her with a hard kiss—a demand that mashed her lips against her teeth. His fingers tangled in her hair and pulled back her head. His tongue invaded her mouth, and again she tasted the beer, milder but just as rancid.

  She pushed him away. “Stop it. I can’t do this now. I have an AA meeting.”

  Eric froze. “AA? What for?”

  “Because . . .” I’m a drunk. I need help. “It’s good for me. Tonight I’m getting a thirty-day chip.”

  He snorted as if she’d told a joke. “I’ll give you something better than a silly chip. This role is big, babe. I’ve got real screen time.”

  Daisy listened to him brag, but she didn’t take in a single word. It was always like this—whenever they talked, it was about Eric. His career. His dreams. His plans. When was it her turn? For once she wanted to talk about herself.

  Before she could interrupt him, he squeezed her hand. “I’ve missed you, babe. Come home.”

  “I can’t. I need time.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “But—”

  “I can take care of you now.” He trailed his knuckles down her cheek, following the caress with his eyes. His hand stopped, but his gaze skimmed to her breasts. She knew that look. He wanted sex, and he wanted it now.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she insisted.

  “You don’t mean it.”

  “Yes, I do.” She wanted to talk, not be seduced. “Eric, we had problems—big ones. We have to talk.”

  “We are talking.” His lips trailed along the side of her neck, tickling and teasing until desire took a breath deep in her belly. Dark and primitive, the hunger swept through her. Yet her feelings had another side altogether. She just wanted to be loved. To feel safe and protected.

  He pressed her into the bucket seat, his pupils dilated as he kissed her again.

  She loved him . . . She hated him . . . She didn’t know what she felt, but more than anything else, she wanted her thirty-day chip. Eric knew she had someplace to be, but he didn’t care. He did not care. The jerk hadn’t changed at all.

  She broke from his grip, snatched her purse, and flung open the door. “This isn’t going to work.”

  She had one foot on the asphalt when he yanked her back inside. Her purse flew out of her hand and landed upside down on the floorboard. The contents spilled in a heap—her wallet, her phone, the envelope with the seven hundred dollars. “Let go of me!”

  Cursing, he squeezed her wrist. The Rolex dug into her skin like a claw. She tried to pull away, but he twisted her arm behind her back. Pain shot to her spine and she cried out.

  “Close the door,” he said with a growl.

  “No.”

  “Close it, you—” He shouted a foul name.

  If she closed the door, he’d drive off. He’d take her away and hit her and rape her. He was out of his mind, raging and hissing filthy words when seconds ago he’d been kissing her. She was a fool to think he had changed—a fool to think she could reason with him. She couldn’t outmuscle him, so she had to outsmart him.

  “I’m sorry.” The words were a lie, but the tremble behind them was true. “Really, Eric. I am. Let go and I’ll close the door.”

  “No one disrespects me, Daisy. Especially not you.”

  She blinked back tears. “I got a little mad and I’m sorry. Let go of my arm, okay?”

  The instant he released her wrist, she bolted from the car. She sprinted as fast as she could, but Eric caught up to her, clamped his hand over the Rolex, and yanked her arm. The watchband broke, setting her free as Eric staggered into a fire hydrant.

  She sprinted toward Washington Boulevard, her eyes locked on the Walk signal, counting the seconds until the light turned red. She had six seconds to cross the street, then five . . . four. She sped into the crosswalk, passed the stopped cars, her eyes riveted to the numbers on the signal. Three . . . two . . . one.

  The instant she reached the curb, cars surged into the intersection, picking up speed until they passed her in a blur. Across the street Eric paced like a caged animal, his fists knotted as he mouthed curse words.

  She ran straight to Mary’s Closet, hurried through the door as it chimed, and prayed Eric wouldn’t follow her. Turning, she searched for him through the tinted display window but didn’t see him. He could be anywhere—in the coffee shop with Chelsea or lurking ten feet from the thrift shop door. She was safe for now, but what about tomorrow? Eric got what he wanted, always. And he wanted her.

  Tina come out of the back room, probably expecting a customer. Adrenaline drained from Daisy’s body, leaving her chilled and weak in the knees. She turned to tell Tina the ugly story, but her gaze snagged on the receipt book on the counter—and the empty Rolex box under the register. Her hand flew to her bare wrist and she gasped. Eric had the watch. He had everything. Her phone. The money. Her driver’s license. She wanted her purse, but more than anything she wanted the watch so she could give it to Lyn. Somehow borrowing had turned into stealing.

  Tina tipped her head. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m—I’m fine,” Daisy sputtered. “Just a bad moment. I’m okay now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” She blew a breath that lifted her bangs. “I really am okay. I saw an old friend, and it—it was hard. You know how it is.”

  “I do.” Tina hesitated. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

  “Thanks. I just need a few minutes. That’s all.”

  “Sure. I’m here if you need me.”

  To Daisy’s relief, Tina returned to the back room. The instant she was out of view, Daisy pressed her trembling hands to her face. Think, Daisy! Think! There had to be a way to fix her mistake. Maybe Lyn didn’t have to know. The receipts weren’t numbered. If Daisy destroyed the page, the problem would go away. She opened the drawer and stared at the brown receipt book. She didn’t want to lie, but she had broken the rules. Lyn had been clear. If she broke the rules, she’d have to leave Maggie’s House.

  No! No! No! A miserable groan clogged her throat. Whimpering, she shriveled into the fourteen-year-old girl who had been taken away from Coach Harper’s home by a social worker with big black glasses. “We don’t want to take you away from your brother, but you can’t stay here if you don’t follow the rules.”

  “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

  “Yes, Daisy. You are. You’re sneaking out at night and drinking. We’re worried you’re going to get pregnant.”

  After what happened to her in the garage, what difference did it make? She hadn’t told the social worker the truth because she was too ashamed. Now she was ashamed of taking the watch. Hide the truth. She could do it easily. But as her fingers grazed the receipt book, guilt swamped her. So did fear and regret, because lies had cost her everything. What if she had told the social worker about the boys in the garage? Would she have been allowed to stay with Shane and the Harpers?

  The back door chimed and she froze, composing herself as best a
s she could. After a moment, Lyn approached from the back of the store. “Daisy? Are you all right? Tina told me you were upset.”

  “I’m fine now.” She had to be. “Seeing Chelsea was—a little hard.”

  Lyn must have believed her, because understanding glistened in her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Never!

  “That’s okay, honey. Change isn’t easy, especially at the beginning.” Her voice took on a cheery note. “Just don’t forget what’s really important. It’s not every day you get a thirty-day chip.”

  To her astonishment, Daisy did something she hadn’t done in years. She burst into tears.

  Lyn pulled her into her arms. “Honey, what happened?”

  “The watch. I—I lost it.” Through sobs and hiccups, she told Lyn about the woman in the Mercedes, Chelsea bringing Eric, going with him to his car, and running away. “I was going to put the watch back. Really, I was. But Eric grabbed me and it broke—”

  “Oh, Daisy.”

  “It was worth a lot of money. Probably a thousand dollars. I don’t know, but it was pretty, and I liked it, and—”

  Lyn clasped her shoulders as if she were a child. “Daisy, listen to me. That watch was worth a lot more than a thousand dollars. A diamond Rolex? It was worth thousands of dollars.”

  Daisy tried to pull back, but Lyn held tight. “Do you know what else?”

  “No.”

  “You, Daisy Ann Walker, are worth far more than a diamond watch. Jesus Christ died for you, Daisy. He died for me, too. He gave his life for us—for you and me—two struggling women who make mistakes every single day. I don’t care about the watch. I care about you, and so does God.”

  Daisy thought of Shane trapping her in the storeroom and berating her. Now here she stood with Lyn, a woman who had every reason to be angry yet offered forgiveness, a gift Daisy didn’t deserve. The churning in her gut sped up, but hope for mercy shimmered within reach. Daisy grabbed that hope with both hands.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I won’t ever borrow anything again. I promise.”

  “That’s good,” Lyn said gently. “Because borrowing isn’t borrowing unless you ask first.”