Trust in Us (Forbidden Love Book 1)

by S. M. Harshell

  We finish lunch, neither one of us letting the conversation get to heavy. I know this day wrecks Belle emotionally, so I never want to add to that.

  The closer we get to the cemetery, the quieter Belle becomes. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her playing with the tissue in her hands while staring out the window. I wish there were something I could do or say to make this easier for her. I hate seeing her like this. It breaks me. I know she doesn’t blame me, but I blame myself. The guilt is pretty fucking heavy. It’s always there. Do I feel guilty for almost killing Stan? Absolutely not. The only thing that upsets me is that I didn’t kill him. I would have gladly taken a life sentence if I knew that smug bastard wasn’t walking this earth. Death would have been too easy for him, though, too quick. I want that motherfucker to suffer every day for the rest of his life…like I suffered, like Katy suffered. I want him to have a daily reminder of what he did, what he took—my innocence, Katy’s innocence, Katy’s life.

  I pull up to the curb and put my truck in park. Belle looks over at me with red-rimmed eyes. She releases her seat belt as she bends to pick up the flowers from the floor. Belle goes all out for Katy. She always has. When she was younger, my aunt would pay for whatever flowers Belle wanted to get. Belle has been bringing two dozen yellow roses, Katy’s favorite, to the cemetery for the last fourteen years.

  Silently, we walk through the headstones to the far corner where Katy is laid to rest. Belle busies herself with removing the dead flowers from the vase that sits in the middle of the marble stone with brass name plate, while I stand there watching. She arranges the new roses, then cleans the grass and leaves off the stone. She stands back up and I wrap my arms around her, both of us looking down at it.

  Katy Lynn Masters

  March 15, 1985 – September 26, 2000

  “God, Cole. I miss her so much. I wish I knew what she would have become. Would she be married? Would she have kids? I imagine so many things for her, but in everything I ever see, I know she would have been so successful.” She turns her face into my chest and sobs. I just hold her, placing my cheek on her head and shutting my eyes.

  “I know, Monkey. She was my best friend. I miss her every day.” So much, it fucking hurts. We stand this way for what seems like hours. She grips the back of my shirt and cries. There is nothing else we can do. Just be there for each other.

  When we get back into the truck, she rests her head back, her eyes closed. “He called me, you know.” I want to ask who, but I know exactly who she is talking about. I squeeze the steering wheel, tightening the muscles in my jaw. Just when I think she won’t say any more, she rolls her head until she is facing me. “He said he wants me to know his side, that he isn’t the monster you made him out to be.” She grabs my hand on the wheel. “Cole, I told him there was nothing to explain. I know exactly what kind of man he is. I know what he has done, and I will work every day for the rest of my life fighting for children who can’t defend themselves against someone like him. He is a monster of the worst kind.”

  When she stops talking, I flick my eyes in her direction. “When?”

  “Maybe a month ago.”

  “What the fuck, Belle. A month? Why wouldn’t you tell me before now?”

  “I wasn’t going to have this conversation over the phone. It needed to be in person.”

  “What did you think I was going to do? I can’t do a fucking thing. He has a restraining order against me. I can’t go anywhere near him or I will violate parole. Do you actually think I would risk everything for him? I have less than six months left on my parole. If I didn’t kill him back then, I damn sure wouldn’t do it now.” I see Belle cringe. I know she hates when I bring up what I did, but damn. She has to know I am not that guy anymore. I could be. It would be very easy to be that man. I’d just have to drive up to their house and finally end him. Trust me. I’ve thought about it. But if I did that, I would be no better than him.

  “No, Cole. I didn’t think you would go after him. I wanted you to look into my eyes and know that I am serious when I say I am done with him. I may carry that man’s DNA, but that’s it. I am done with both of them. Mom made her choice, and it wasn’t us.”

  I reach across the seat and grab her hand. “Belle, I’m serious. Do not accept any more fucking phone calls from either one of them. Nothing good can come from it.”

  The rest of the ride back to her car is silent. I am so pissed. What the hell is he trying to do? Why now? I believe that Belle doesn’t want anything to do with them, but she has such a big heart. If they give her the right sob story, they could have her changing her mind about seeing them. I have never told her not to have anything to do with them. It’s always been her choice. But I don’t trust them at all. For a mother to choose a child molester over her own children is repulsive.

  Being at the cemetery and the conversation about Stan, I can’t help but think about the day I found her. That was the worst day of my life.

  When I got home from school, I can sense something is wrong. That morning, Katy had said she didn’t feel good and stayed home. I walk to the fridge and grab the gallon of iced tea, ready to pour myself a glass. If Katy were as sick as she said, maybe she needed a drink, too. I set the gallon on the counter and climb up the steps to her room, knocking softly on the closed door. When she doesn’t answer, I slowly open it, thinking maybe she is sleeping. When I see her room is spotless, the bed made, I know something is off. Katy’s room is never clean. There are usually piles of clothes on her floor at all times, but not today. It is perfect.

  I walk in and look around. I see an envelope with my name on it propped up on the lamp on her nightstand. I pick it up, knowing the course of my life is about to change. How I know this, I have no idea, but I do. My hands shake as I rip into the envelope.

  Cole,

  I’m so tired. I can’t do it anymore. This is the only way to get away from it.

  Protect Belle. Don’t let him tarnish her.

  I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.

  I love you.

  Katy

  I start screaming her name, running through the house, checking every room. I look everywhere…under beds, in the tub, in closets. I know she is here somewhere. I must get to her.

  I run out to the garage, seeing both cars gone. My mom is doing some PTA thing for Belle’s class today and won’t be home until later, and Stan’s usually at work until at least five o’clock every day. We live on a larger lot and the houses are spaced pretty far apart. You can’t see the neighbor from our house, and there is nothing except woods behind us.

  I run around the garage and come to a skidding halt. She lay parallel to the garage, the gun still in her hand, her face distorted. I run to her and drop to my knees in the blood surrounding her body. I bring my shaking hand to her cheek. Ice cold. I know she is gone. I lay my head on her chest and cry. What am I supposed to do? I know I need to call the police, an ambulance, my mom, somebody. Instead, I just cry.

  “Cole.” Belle pulls me from that hell as I pull up to her car. I don’t even really know how I got here. I look over at her. “I love you, big brother. Think about what I said about talking to someone.”

  “I love you, Monkey. Be careful on your way home. Text me when you get there,” I say, not even acknowledging her comment about talking to someone.

  As I drive away, I know I need to head back to the shop, but it’s not even four o’clock yet. Plus, I’m exhausted. Not sleeping last night and dealing with today is taking its toll on me. I pull into my driveway, hoping to get a nap before I head back in to finish that plow. That way, I can wait until everybody leaves for the day. I know I am not going to be someone anyone wants to be around right now. I definitely think being alone at the moment is for the best.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cole

  I jump awake, momentarily having no idea where I am. I look at my alarm clock. 5:00 am. Damn it. I never thought I’d sleep through the night. When I walked into my apartment, I headed right for the bed
room and kicked off my shoes, pulled of my clothes, and fell onto the covers. I had planned to sleep only a few hours, then head into the shop. Fuck.

  Getting to the shop this early is crazy. The freaking sun isn’t even out yet. But the issues with the plow hang over my head. I need to get it done before the end of the week or Darren has threatened to take my nuts. That is one thing I wouldn’t look forward to.

  I park in the lot and walk to the side door. Turning the key, I push the door open, stopping when I hear J’s radio playing. She must have left it on when she left yesterday. It isn’t like her, but what do I know? I am never here this early. I guess anything is possible.

  Just as I step close to J’s bay to hit the main breaker for the lights, I hear a soft whimpering.

  Whimpering? What the hell?

  When I hit the lights, I see the shop is trashed. Toolboxes are overturned, parts thrown everywhere, drawers open, files scattered. I look around for some sort of weapon, just in case whoever did this is still here. I grab the tire iron on the floor by my feet and start walking slowly through the shop. I can still hear the whimpering, but with the noise of the radio, I have no idea where it’s coming from. Just as I am about to move over to Todd’s bay, I hear it again, louder this time. When I turn around, I see J tied up in the corner between the wall and the diagnostic machine.

  I run over and drop down beside her. I turn her over slowly until she’s facing me. I see duct tape covering her mouth, and her face looks like she has had the shit knocked out of her. Her eyes are wide, scared. Fuck.

  “J, is there anyone else here?” When she shakes her head, I sigh in relief. I need to figure out what the hell happened and get her medical care. “I need to cut the zip ties. When the blood rushes back to your arms, it’s going to hurt. Okay?” She nods, her eyes following my every move.

  I stand up and search for the box cutter I know she keeps in her toolbox. Seeing it on the floor, I run over and grab it. What the fuck went on here? How long has she been like this?

  Kneeling back down behind her, I put my hand on her shoulder. “J, I am cutting the zip tie now. When you feel it release, pull your arms in front of you slowly, then I’ll take the tape off your mouth.”

  I put the blade behind the tie and pull toward me, breaking the hold it has on her. Her wrists are bloody and raw from her trying to pull out of them. When she tries to pull her arms in front of her, they fall limply to the floor. I don’t know how long she’s been in this position, but her arms are useless. I scramble around so I am in front of her. Her eyes are wide and scared.

  “I need to get his tape off, but it’s going to fucking hurt. I think pulling fast, like a Band-Aid, is our best option. You ready?” I look into her eyes. Seeing the pain there tightens my chest. Jesus, what the hell happened to her?

  She nods and squeezes her eyes shut. I get my fingers under one of the edges and give a hard pull, making her groan. I know it has to hurt when the area immediately turns red. I move to her feet and cut those ties, too. When I put my hand on her hip, she jumps. Damn it. All I want to do is hold her close and make the pain go away, but I need to move slowly.

  “J, I’m going to straighten your legs. Just like your arms, when the blood starts flowing again, it’s going to hurt like a bitch.”

  It takes time, but I finally got her into a sitting position, leaning her back against the wall. I’m worried she is going into shock because she hasn’t said anything since I pulled the tape off her mouth.

  “Th…” She clears her throat. “Thank you, Cole.”

  “Let me get you a drink. Are you going to be okay if I go into the office?” She just nods.

  When I step into Nancy’s office, I see it’s also trashed, her desk lying on its side, her files thrown around the room. Someone was looking for something specific, but what? What in the hell happened? Who in the fucking hell ties up a woman in the middle of the night and leaves her on the floor? She is lucky they didn’t take her or rape her. Holy shit. Did they? I swing around to see J sitting right where I left her, trying to move her arms and legs. I swear, if someone raped her, they are dead. When I hear J’s soft cough, I rush into the kitchen to get her a bottle of water.

  Running back into her bay, I sit down next to her, holding the bottle out. She’s still trying to get the feeling back in her hands. “Here. I’ll help. Just take small sips.” When I lift the bottle to her lips, she only takes a few sips. “Enough?” I ask. She nods. I put the bottle down, then pull my phone out of my pocket.

  “What are you doing?” she whispers.

  “Calling the cops, then your father.”

  She looks at me and slowly puts her hand on my phone. “You can’t. Cole, promise me no police. My father can’t know about this. Please.”

  “Are you fucking serious? Why, J? You need to go to the hospital. I don’t know who you are covering for, but you do realize they fucked you over pretty good, right?”

  “Cole, please. He can’t know.”

  “Then you need to start talking to me right now. Who did this?”

  “I need more water and to use the bathroom first, then we’ll talk.”

  “How are you going to keep this from Darren, J? It’s five thirty. He’ll be here in a little over an hour.”

  “Fuck…”

  “Yeah.”

  “I have to get out of here. There is no way to hide the break-in from him, but he can’t know what happened to me. I can’t bring him into it.”

  “But, J—”

  “Cole, please. Are you going to help me or not?”

  “Damn it.” I stand up and put my hands under her armpits. I slowly pull her into a standing position, hearing her painful gasps. “Just rest here for a minute.”

  “Jesus, that fucking hurts,” she moans.

  “Just go slowly. I’ll help you.”

  We walk to the bathroom. I help her in, then wait in the hallway. Leaning on the wall, I watch as J opens the door a few minutes later and slowly walks out. I know she doesn’t want Darren to know, but this just feels so wrong.

  “J, if you don’t want Darren finding out, we need to go.”

  “I can get myself back to the house. You stay here.”

  “You do know that’s not going to fucking happen, right? Let’s go. Darren had no idea I was coming in early today. He thought I was going to be here last night. I will lock everything back up and come in at my normal time…after you and I have a chat.”

  I walk her to the door. “Stay here.”

  I run back to her bay and pick up the zip ties and tape, shoving them into my pocket. I look around to make sure there is no sign she was tied up here all night. I turn off the radio and hit the breaker for the main lights on my way back over to J. As gently as I can, I lead her out to my truck, seeing her Jeep sitting there.

  Shit. How the hell did I miss that on my way in?

  “Is there any way you can drive? We can’t leave your Jeep here.”

  “I don’t know if I can use a stick right now. My arms feel like rubber and my wrists are killing me.”

  “You can drive my truck. I’ll follow you in your Jeep. Luckily, my house isn’t that far.”

  She whips her head around. “Your house? My apartment is fine. I obviously can’t show up here today with my face looking like this. So when I call Pop and tell him I’m not coming in—”

  “J, you do need to think of something to tell him, but you are staying with me, or Jules, or someone. I am not leaving you alone. This isn’t up for discussion. Now, get in the fucking truck.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  J

  I can’t fight with Cole any longer. Going to his house isn’t what I want to do, but if I want him to keep this quiet, it’s my only option. Driving his truck is excruciating. The pins and needles feeling has subsided, now I am left with a throbbing ache.

  Cole meets me at the side of his truck and helps me out, then slowly walks me to the house. I lean on the porch rail while he unlocks the door and disarms the
alarm. He comes back out to help me in and walks me straight to the couch. Each step is slow and calculated.

  “You need to call Darren, J. When he gets to the shop and finds it ransacked, then you don’t show up, he is going to flip his shit.”

  “I know, but what the fuck am I going to tell him?”

  “The truth.”

  “Damn it, Cole. You know that isn’t an option.”

  “So you’ve said. Just tell him you got into a fight at the bar last night and need a few days off or something.”

  “That just may work.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket and call his house number.

  “Hello?”

  “Mornin’, Pop.”

  “What’s up, J-bird? Why are you calling so early?”

  “I wanted to let you know I’m not going to be in for a few days.”