by C. A. Harms
“I’ve been home since I left the shop,” thankful I never went out for a drink down the street as I thought about doing. “I showered, ate, and fell asleep on the couch.”
“I'm gonna call Roger at the station.” He's one of the cops that Oliver has inked for next to nothing. But, of course, keeping a few cops on your good side isn’t a bad thing. “Just stay put.”
As if I have anywhere to go.
We end the call, and I wait, my mind racing with what will happen next. Every little noise makes me jump; the seconds that pass make me anxious. Will this shit ever end? Did she find someone to beat her up? Or is there another idiot out there who isn’t smart enough to stay away from her?
The sound of someone knocking on my door makes my pulse quicken. I stand and move across the darkened area to peek down the stairwell. I don't see anything more than a shadow moving around on the other side with the blinds closed—my phone rings, and again my body jerks in surprise.
I hurry to the bed, pick up my phone and see it's Oliver.
“Open the fucking door, man.”
"That you?”
“Yeah, it's me,” I shuffle toward the stairs once more and practically down them. My heart continues to race, my hands shaking as I flip the lock and pull open the door. Oliver stands on the other side, wearing a pair of sweats and a hoody. He moves past me and says nothing as he climbs the stairs.
I follow close behind, ready to lose my shit if he doesn’t say something and soon.
"Roger said they’ll be coming for ya,” I stop dead in my tracks. “They found her outside of some bar a few miles from her place. She was on the ground beside her car.”
"No one saw what happened?”
“That’s what they're doing now,” he turns to face me. “Pulling camera footage, interviewing others to see if anyone saw anything.”
“How is she?” I may not love her, and she may be bat shit crazy, but that still doesn’t mean I don’t care that she is hurt. I'm not evil.
Oliver laughs and shakes his head, “Busted up lip, black eyes, maybe a broken nose.”
I sit down on the arm of my couch and feel like my entire life is crashing around me.
“I know you didn't do it, but you know they're going to believe her. It’s going to be a mess until you can prove your innocence."
"If I can prove it,” he starts to argue but honestly, he has got to know better. “I’m the bad guy Olly. It's been that way since I told her it was over. She cries wolf, and I pay the price, no questions asked, I am the devil.”
The two of us sit in the darkness. There is no need for conversation. Our minds racing, as I wait for the cops to show.
When the sun peeks through the blinds and the light scatters out over my small space, the sound of the dreaded knock echoes over the quiet. I stand and pull my shirt over my head before slipping my feet inside my boots. I grab my phone, slip it into my back pocket and toss my keys to Oliver.
“Make sure the place is locked up.”
“Dax,” he says.
“Keep the shop going, as usual. There isn't a reason to shut it down. Bills still have to be paid, and you all know what needs to be done in order to do so.”
“This is fucked up,” he follows behind me, and I chuckle, nodding my head.
“Yeah,” I look back over my shoulder and give him my best-forced smile. “It is.” Taking in a deep breath, I open the door and find officer Wenzer and another officer standing a few feet behind him.
"We gotta take you in Dax,” I nod and hold out my hands. “No, need for that," he jerks his head in the direction of the awaiting squad car. He then looks over my shoulder toward Oliver, “Roger says you’ll be able to pull me some security footage of the front and back exits of this building and the apartment above?”
"You'll have them within the hour.”
The shift of events throws me, but I say nothing as I am led to the car and tucked inside.
After Wenzer and the other officer are inside and we are rolling away from my place, I look back to find Oliver unlocking the shop's front door. “We've been watching,” shifting around, I find Wenzer looking back at me. “Good suggestion, kid, but I must say one thing. You need to get yourself a life; there's more to working all day and hanging out in an empty apartment all night.”
“Can't really get a life when I've got a crazy bitch trying to destroy everything I've worked for.”
He holds my stare, and the second cop glances over at him but says nothing. I have no idea what is going on, but something tells me that things are about to get even more fucked up. I just hope in the end, I'm walking away clean.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Breanna
* * *
"This can't be happening," I say through the uncontrollable sobs. "My God, Aurora," I wail even louder after I look down at what’s in my hand. I am not a crier, but I feel like it's all I have done today and for the last week. Especially now!
"This is why I am so careful. Therefore I never act before; I think." I lift the plastic applicator I've held in my hand for the last ten minutes and shake it at her as if the entire thing is all her fault. She accepts my crazy; she always has. "This is why I am always such a damn stickler for the rules. Why I never stray outside the lines."
Her eyes are wide as she stares at me. I know it's a mixture of shock and fear. I am on the verge of falling off the deep end, and she has no idea how to stop me. I have no idea how to stop me. This kind of behavior is not me! I don't act like this.
"It's gonna be okay." I glare at her, and she presses her lips in a tight line. She probably wants to laugh at me, but I know she won't dare.
"This," again I shake the test angrily, "is not going to be okay!" What in the hell is she talking about? Nothing about this is going to be okay. Why do people say that when it's nowhere close to what the outcome will be?
"I'm twenty-four, I don't have a boyfriend, I don't have my mother to cry to, I'm just the girl that threw herself at a guy who doesn't want her, and now I'm pregnant." More tears fall and snot, too, ugh I’m a mess.
I sit on the floor of my bathroom, in the exact position she found me in. I'm in my bra and a pair of baggy pajama pants with mismatched socks. My hair is a wreck, I feel miserable, and now I feel even more lost with those two damn lines staring up at me. Like they are mocking me and telling me how badly I've screwed up.
"You may not have a boyfriend, and your mom may not be sitting here with us, but you have me." She sits down next to me and pushes back the hair from my face. "I know what your mom would say if she were here."
A fresh set of tears spring to my eyes, and I don't even fight to keep them from spilling over.
"She would say sweetheart; life doesn't give you more than you can handle. You are a Dawson baby girl, and that means you are strong enough to take on anything. You have the world at your fingertips; now it's up to you to grab hold and take charge."
I hang my head and close my eyes tightly. The truth is, had my mom been here, that is probably exactly what she'd say.
"As for the boyfriend part," she leans in and rests her head on my shoulder. "You don't need a man, you've got me, and I'll be the best daddy this baby could ask for."
I wrinkle my nose at her, and she laughs.
"Okay, so not daddy, but Auntie, and we will rock this parenting thing, like no-one's business."
My heart aches.
"Are you going to tell him?"
I think about it for a minute, wondering how Dax would take the news. He made it clear he didn't want anything with me outside of our one night, and now I'm about to tell him he is stuck with me for the next eighteen years. "Eventually, I will," I whisper. I couldn’t tell him now, I need time. "But I don't need anything from him; I don't want anything. I'll tell him because it's the right thing to do, but that's where it stops. I refuse to be a burden to a man that didn't want me before I got knocked up."
Aurora nods in agreement, but I can see the hesitation in her eyes.
"That man scares me," she whispers, and I laugh.
"Normally, I'd disagree, but right now, I'm a little scared too." More scared of what he will think of me, fearful of disappointing him. My life is about to change. Everything I thought I wanted and planned has all been rerouted. It's no longer me and me alone; now I have another person to consider. That terrifies me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Daxton
* * *
“You’re free to go,” Wenzer hands me a bag with my sweatshirt, cellphone, and a clip of money inside. I take it hesitantly. “Sorry you had to stay overnight, but I wanted to make sure I could clear your name.”
“And did you?”
“It seems you aren’t the only one that Ms. Kelley is making miserable.” He turns around and walks toward his file cabinet. “A witness came forward and gave a statement. There was an altercation between Ms. Kelley and another woman a few hours before she was found outside the bar. It seems Autumn has been sleeping with this woman’s husband, and the wife had finally caught up with her.”
“But, she stated it was me.”
He nods, turning back to face me and dropping a picture of Autumn onto the desktop. Her face is heavily bruised, her eyes swollen, and her lip split. Her red hair seems even brighten against the dark purple and blue bruising.
“Footage was turned over to us by a local store that just so happens to have a camera facing exactly where the altercation took place. The woman didn’t even try to hide her face, so that puts you in the clear.”
“Yet I spent a night in jail for a violation of a restraining order.”
“That was me covering your ass, boy. I knew you didn’t hurt that girl, but I had to prove it.” I’ve always had a hard time figuring out Wenzer; he isn’t easy to read. The man has one hell of a poker face. “This woman’s indiscretions are catching up with her, I suggest laying low, but that doesn’t mean you should hide.”
He dismisses me with a wave of his hand, telling me to go home and take a shower; I smell like hell. I smile, feeling less weighed down than I have in a long time, and I catch a cab home.
It’s close to three in the afternoon, the shop is open, and a few cars are parked outside. I go straight to my place using the spare key hidden above the door frame. I decide to tuck it into my pocket instead of putting it back, realizing how dumb it is to have it there in the first place.
I shower, washing over my body several times to eliminate the stink I felt I’d gotten from one night in a holding cell. I’m not a saint, I’ve been to jail a few times throughout my life, but that was long ago. I was a kid; I made mistakes in order to survive.
This time it was different. I have too much to lose now, and that terrified me.
Slipping on my clothes, I run my fingers through my hair and exit my apartment only to take ten steps and open the door to my shop. The smell of cleanliness hits me immediately, and I smile as I look around the space. The last thirty-six hours have made me appreciate this place and the people I call family even more than I already did.
“You’re an ass,” Zac walks at me fast and shoves my shoulder. “Here, we’ve all been thinking you’re on your way to becoming someone’s prison bitch, and you’ve been upstairs this entire time.”
Unlike me, I reach out and pull him in for a hug, slapping him on the back. His arms hang loosely at his side, and I find everyone else has now joined us. They are all looking at me like I’m high, and I laugh, releasing Zac.
“I was in jail, but there was no claiming of any kind going on.”
“They let you out?” Luna steps up and offers me a hug, and I see the teary look in her eyes.
“I’m good,” I tell her, so only she can hear.” Then, leaning back, she looks up at me, and I nod, “I promise.”
She nods and steps back to allow each of them to step in and welcome me back. I spend the next hour filling them all in on what took place, what Wenzer has shared, and the idea that all this shit may finally be coming back around to Autumn. It’s time she got what was coming, and to be honest, I hope she gets some fucking help in the end.
“We got a bachelorette party coming in at six,” Jace wags his eyebrows, grinning wide. “You up for it?”
“What are they doing?”
“Matching tatt’s and navel piercings,” Luna hollers out from the couch where she now sits. “Bonehead there tried to talk them into switching up the location of their piercings for his pleasure, of course, but they declined.”
“I may have the bride convinced,” Zac says with a smirk, “I’m still working on it.”
“Do not screw the bride,” I say with a pointed stare. “We do not need any more crazy around here; my shit is bad enough.”
“I never said anything about screwing her,” he beams with a happy grin, “just a little finger action won’t hurt.”
I attempt to reach out and smack him, but Oliver beats me to it and nails him on the back of his head. “You heard the man. You do not touch the bride.”
“But the maid of honor and bridesmaids are fair game,” Jace announces and moves quickly before he gets smacked too.
Without these idiots around, life would be pretty damn dull, I’ll admit. Even though they drive me nuts fifty percent of the time, I couldn’t imagine not having them around to terrorize me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Breanna
* * *
I sit across the table from my father, Sonya sitting quietly at his side, and I know we are both nervous. Anything could happen at this point, my father is completely unreadable, and I can usually figure him out so easily.
On an average day, under normal circumstances, Sonya talks him through difficult situations, like his voice of reason helping him come to terms with whatever is troubling him. The problem now is I don’t think anyone, or anything could calm him.
“Who is it?” My father asks, and I can tell he is doing everything possible to hold his cool. But the redness of his face and ears is all the indication I need to know he is seconds away from losing his shit.
“Dad, it’s okay I’ve —,”
“Who is it?” He repeats through gritted teeth, and I know he doesn’t mean to be so short with me, but he’s never really been good with the idea of someone doing me wrong. To him, no matter how sugary I make it sound, it is the ultimate kick to his nuts. In his eyes, someone has screwed over his little girl. There is no use in trying to explain that I’m just as much to blame as the guy I shared the night with.
“Bree,” he says, my name reminding me that he is still awaiting my reply.
“A guy I met at the festival.” I hate to even admit to my father that I slept with a guy I hardly know. Those are images no one ever wants their dad to have about them.
“Breanna,” I sense his disappointment which is extremely hard to hear. “Does he know? Do you have a way to contact him?”
“He isn’t a complete stranger; he lives in Bear Creek.”
“Have you told him?” He leans back in his chair, and I think maybe he’s calming down a bit.
“Not yet,” that is another conversation I will have to ensure I’m emotionally ready to explore. Right now, when I am a ball of tears is not the time to share the news. He already thinks I’m some princess in my magic castle. I don’t want to show him that I am, in fact, a blubbering mess.
“Why not?”
“I will. I just have to build myself up to it.”
“Why would you have to build up to it? It’s simple?”
“It’s not that simple,” I mumble, and he leans forward once again.
“You’re gonna be a father, and you are gonna do your part.” He states, and I look to Sonya and then back to him. “It’s that simple, no questions asked.”
“Daxton doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’ll want some girl showing up on his doorstep saying, o
h hey, remember me? I’m good yeah, oh and guess what, I’m pregnant.” Tears pool in my eyes, and I look down at my lap.
“Daxton?” I hadn’t even realized I’d said his name aloud until my father repeated it. I look up to find him staring at me with an unreadable expression.
I nod.
He grips the edge of the table. “As in Daxton Ford?”
Again, I nod, only this time much slower because shamefully, I’m not sure exactly of his last name. Then it hits me. “How do you know his name?”
My father stands, and the amount of force he uses to slap the tabletop makes both Sonya and I jump in response. “Because the cocky little bastard has been inking my body for over two fucking years now, that’s how.”
“Craig,” Sonya reaches out and places her hand on his forearm. “Getting angry isn’t gonna change the outcome.”
My stomach feels like it drops, my legs and arms feel tingly, and I lean back against the chair, needing something to hold on to, I grab the table.
Suddenly my dad is turning around and stomping toward the front door.
I holler Dad at the same time Sonya yells his name, and we are met with nothing more than the slamming of the front door as he leaves my childhood home.
Panic races through me because I know where he is heading.
“Bree,” Sonya stands and walks around, sitting on the chair next to me. “Honey, It’s gonna work out.” Immediately I begin to shake my head no. She reaches out and grips my face in her hands. “Yes, it will,” she insists. “One way or the other, we will make it all okay.”
At this moment, I fall a little more in love with the woman that loves my father and me with her entire heart. She is on our side, right or wrong; she stands by us.
“Is Daxton the guy you were talking about when we went to the spa?”
I nod, feeling like at any minute I am going to fall apart.
