by Cd Brennan
A week without seeing Sierra. A week! He was going nuts. The worst part was the worrying. How was she? Did she get arrested? He’d researched a bit in regards to internet law, and it was vague and sketchy. Where she’d fall into the legislation was an unknown to Dave. Punishments were anything from community service to massive fines and jail time up to twenty years.
He got into his truck and slammed the door. When he turned the ignition, the music automatically came on to an old 80s hit “Every Rose Has It’s Thorn” by Poison. How apropos, and man, those eighties hits wouldn’t die. His rugby gear bag already packed and in the back seat, he would be early for practice. He could go and do some warm-ups, have a run around the pitch a couple of times to try to soothe the turmoil riddling his body. But first he’d go by the farm.
He sat there for a moment. People liked to point out Dave was a simple man. He liked his structure, liked his routine, and loved his flowers. They were right in one way. He didn’t like conflict, hated drama. Chose to focus on the sweet scents of life and ignored the rest. So this was all new to him. But at the same time, he was totally cognizant that he’d never felt so much emotion before.
He put the truck into gear and headed out of town. His new place was only a couple miles from the shop. His mind on Sierra, the drive was a blur until he reached the building site. He was pleased to see it was almost finished. The old farmhouse sat near the road with new siding and a fresh coat of paint on the porch. He’d completely renovated the inside, but the best part of the property were the three greenhouses adjacent to a large shed. Three domes where he’d grow his own flowers. Another dream come true. Really, his life was complete. He owned a flower shop, now had his greenhouses, his rugby, his family, friends—there shouldn’t be anything missing. But there was.
Sierra.
But maybe she was right. They were too different. And he definitely didn’t believe in breaking the law. But then, he still believed in her…
He backed out of the drive and made his way to the rugby pitch for practice. When he entered the locker room, only a few boys were there, but surprisingly one was Dick. He was always late, so this was new. Ever since the hotel room, Dave had given Dick a wide berth. Neither had spoken to the other about what had happened. Sometimes Dave wondered if Dick even remembered in his drunken stupor, but he didn’t want to bridge the subject to find out.
He opened his locker and unpacked his bag. Once he was suited up, he took the new tape and wrapped his head like Gill had shown him. It was a bit of a mess, not half as good as when she did it, but it would do.
Hanging his weight on the door, Dave stared into the small magnetic mirror sticking to the inside. A form darkened the image, and Dave turned to see Dick leaning against the lockers behind him, his arms crossed over his chest, one ankle over the other. Dick was trying to establish a cool demeanor as if he didn’t care, but there was an edge to him today. Not that there wasn’t most days, but something more. A steel in his jaw, the way he kept dragging his top teeth over his bottom lip in an exaggerated way. It was kinda creepy.
Dave slowly closed his locker and turned to give his full attention to the man. He looked like he was about ready to lose the plot.
Dick looked away and then back to Dave. “She’s going in.”
Dave pinched his brows in confusion. “In where?”
“The cops.”
Dave’s heart stopped beating. “She’s turning herself in?”
A quick jerk of his head in confirmation. “Tomorrow.”
“Where?” Dave asked.
Just then the far door opened and loud, laughing voices came with it. The lads were starting to show up in earnest. As they passed Dave’s locker row, Dick stuck out his foot and the first fellow, TJ, tripped, stumbled, but then caught himself. Everyone laughed except Dave. When Dick joined the group, TJ pushed him hard and called him a “cunt,” and then they dispersed to their lockers.
Dave quickly shoved his gear bag, tape roll, and tape scraps into his locker and followed. Down each row he looked for Dick and finally found him at Champ’s locker. He wouldn’t interrupt now, but at some point at tonight’s practice, he would get more out of Dick. Like where was she turning herself in? The police station on Woodmere? There was really only the one in Traverse City. And what time?
It was a beauty of a night, one of those perfect spring evenings with a warm breeze, only a scuttle of clouds across the sky, the dimmer light of evening casting a warm glow across the field lined with maples just budding for the season, their small bright green leaves almost fluorescent. Dave imagined it as a bouquet, the green of the pitch to root the arrangement – possibly some aspidistra with a nice broad leaf. Some light green hydrangea to represent the budding trees, some orange-toned alstroemeria, some pink callas lilies or perhaps a large pink anthurium for the sky. A red gladiola for the center.
As the lads trickled out onto the field and warm-ups began, Dave kept a keen eye on the locker room door while he did his stretches. But no Dick. Not until after Coach had started practice did Dick step out of the building and casually meander across the pitch as if he had all the time in the world, as if he wasn’t late at all. Assistant Coach Shaun yelled at him to hustle, but Dick didn’t even bother to accelerate into a slow jog.
Practice today was all about tightening their play, so the forwards worked with Coach and the backs with Shaun. And since Dick was a back, and Dave part of the forward pack, there wasn’t one minute where he could tie that asshole down to get the information out of him.
He was so lost in thought, so worried for what Sierra could face tomorrow, he missed Coach’s whistle to set back up for the scrum. Only when Bryce nudged him did Dave engage, wrapping his arm over Bryce’s back. Coach used some of the reserve players to create two packs to practice a scrum.
At his call “set!” the boys rammed into each other. Today, Dave was thankful for the taping about the ears since the first row reserve players were sloppy, coming in to the scrum with their heads colliding with others. They lost power that way, but it was a learned technique with lots of practice.
Like he always did, Dave picked a spot on the ground and focused, channeling all his energy into his limbs. Imagining his legs the trunks of trees, his arms the steady branches, he heaved with all his strength. He locked his legs and dug in with his cleats. The spot he had chosen today was budding clover, and he pushed hard to get past it.
But all he could see was Sierra. Her pain, her misery, and how he needed to make it better.
Chapter 12
His alarm went off at four a.m. and, without looking, he clunked it with his fist to get the horrible beeping to stop. He let his heartbeat settle and opened his eyes. If he shut them again, he wouldn’t get up. If he only could have nabbed Dick for a second last night, he could have slept in, but Dick had left early. Dave found out later he’d injured his groin. Or so he’d said.
He lurched out of bed and stumbled out the door to the bathroom down the hall. He could hear Del’s snores through his closed door. After his shower, Dave quickly dressed in tracksuit pants and a Blues T-shirt, grabbed his prepped garment bag out of his closet, and slipped out the front door quietly. He’d get coffee and a roll on the way into the shop.
After disengaging the alarm at the back door, Dave stepped into the back storage of Marsden Flowers to the hum of the large refrigerators along the back wall. He flicked on the lights, locked the door behind him, and with only a sip of his coffee, got to work. He had the designs to do from yesterday, a couple new orders for first thing this morning, and then one more arrangement on top of that, a special one, the one he had imagined last night on the pitch. But with roses, lots of orange Ecuadorian roses.
He worked methodically, almost on autopilot—snip ends, trim the leaves, place the flower. And the next thing he knew, he heard a key in the door and Krissy walked through.
“Mornin’,” she said as she juggled her coffee with a box of white anemones that had come in special order.
Krissy stopped dead, about to place the carton of flowers on the design table. “Really? What’s going on? You’ve been weird lately.”
“Yep, sorry.” He grabbed the garment bag off the coat rack and headed for the small bathroom. At the door, he turned and said, “It’s important. I wouldn’t leave otherwise.”
As the door closed behind him, he heard her yell, “But it’s a Friday!”
Yeah, he felt bad about that. It was one of their busiest days, and he hadn’t scheduled in anyone else, thinking he’d be here all day to help. But he had to do this. His future depended on it. He’d make it up to Krissy and buy her a dinner voucher from the Red Ginger restaurant. Hell, he didn’t even go there it was so out of his budget, but she loved it.
Dave took his time dressing—pants, shirt, socks, shoes, tie, jacket, and finally cufflinks. The last time he wore the gray suit was for his sister’s wedding. He buttoned the jacket and checked the dark blue tie in the mirror. When he stepped out, the back room was empty. He could hear the sounds of Krissy readying to open. It was almost 9 a.m. Dave grabbed the special bouquet out of the walk-in cooler and headed out front.
“Oh. My. God.” Krissy deadpanned as she eyed him from head to toe and then the flowers in his hand. “What is going on?”
Dave shrugged, his shoulders pinched by the jacket. He must have put on more bulk. Not that he would argue normally, but it was going to be a long day in this suit. “It’s nothing.”
Krissy persisted, a smirk on her lips. “A second ago you said it was important. Like what?” She fed clean water into a display bucket and replaced the sunflowers. “What do you need to do in a suit with flowers?”
Yeah, that was probably the dead giveaway. If he’d been only in a suit, he could fob it off as a bank meeting or something to do with his new house, but who brought flowers to a business appointment? He should have snuck them out to the truck earlier, or better yet, didn’t even bother to come up front to give Krissy last-minute instructions. Would have saved him the interrogation.
“Listen, I gotta get going…”
“Who is she?”
Who was Sierra? He barely knew, but knew he had fallen hard for her. If anyone were to ask why, he couldn’t put it into words. Most would scoff at the idea of love at first sight. He’d never mention a word of it to the lads. He hadn’t been a believer until now.
“There’s just something I have to do for someone. If it works out, I’ll tell you then. If it doesn’t, then I never wore this suit today. Got it?”
She squeezed one eye shut at him like a pirate. “Got it, boss.”
And thankfully, she left it at that. Dave gave her the last few details for the day, expected deliveries, who was doing the flower runs that afternoon. He didn’t know how long this would take, but he wanted to make sure everything was covered in case he was there the entire day. And he was okay with that. More than okay.
With a quick wave, he unlocked the front door, flipped on the Open sign, and strode to his truck. On the drive there, his mind reeled with worry, tumbling with the questions he had kept inside for the last week that needed desperately to get out.
When he arrived at the station, there wasn’t any parking available in the small lot in front of the Public Entrance so he reversed out and parked on the side street. Only 9:05 a.m. and not a chance he had already missed her. So he’d go. And he’d wait.
After he settled in, leaned against the brick building to the right of the columns at the entrance, he attempted a nonchalant pose, his feet crossed at the ankle, his arms crossed at the chest, the flowers hanging from his left hand.
That lasted a whole five minutes before his shoulders cramped against the hard brick. His one foot had fallen asleep since all his two hundred-fifty pounds rested on it.
He paced, he checked his social media, he played some candy game on his phone. Cars and people came and went, and there Dave remained, but no sign of her. He finally squatted down in front of a parking bumper.
He got plenty of funny looks.
A large group tumbled out of an SUV. It looked to be a middle-aged couple and their teenage daughter and a gaggle of her friends, most likely her support network. When they crowded the stairs on their way in, lots of chatter, Dave stood and stepped to the side where some had to squeeze around him. Yeah, he was taking up space, and no, he didn’t care. The teenagers were awkward in their heels and short skirts, like young girls trying on a woman’s fit.
By the look of most of them, not quite there yet.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, then glanced at his watch for the hundredth time. 11:52 a.m. Soon, it would be lunch time, and as prepared as he thought he’d been, he had forgotten to bring food. And if he left, what if she showed up then?
With a growl, he walked down the sidewalk and was a few strides past the building when he stopped.
Nope. He’d regret it if he didn’t try. So he returned to the station entrance, back to his spot from before. He was getting grumpy. He was thirsty, hungry, hot, and tired. And in his bad mood, he mentally tore apart the police station landscaping. It was terribly ugly with some overgrown shrubs and a wimpy tree in the middle. There was a flagpole at the very front with the flag at half-mast. It seemed like these days, it was always at half-mast.
In his mind, he was redesigning the property with flower beds and some beautiful blue ground cover when Dave was jerked out of his daydreaming by her voice.
“What are you doing here?” It wasn’t filled with accusation, just uncertainty.
She was standing outside the portico in the midday sun, looking as beautiful as ever. She had dressed professionally in a fitted royal blue dress with a thin black belt and heels. She carried a small black bag and a white business envelope. If no one knew better, they could be heading to a wedding reception together.
At first he couldn’t get any words out, so immersed he was in looking at her. When she took a step forward into the shade of the overhang, it broke the spell, and Dave stepped up to meet her.
He held out the bouquet. “These are for you.” After four hours in the sun, they were wilted and washed out, but she took them.
“Thank you,” she said her eyes on the flowers. “Roses.” She finally looked up at him. “Why are you here?”
“For you.”
“How did you know I’d be here?”
“Dick told me.”
She let out a breathy grunt. “Dammit.” Her hair and make-up were immaculate but she had foregone her usual bright red lipstick. Instead her eyes were smoky and her lips pink. So beautiful. “I didn’t even tell Dick when I was coming. How did you know?”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I…” Dave hesitated, wondering how much to reveal to her. “I’ve been waiting a bit, hoping to catch you.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “How long have you had to wait?”
Dave glanced at his watch but didn’t see the time. “Oh…about four hours?”
“Four hours! Dave, you shouldn’t have.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have. She didn’t seem to want him here. And where he’d been so confident earlier today, in the bright light of the noon sun in a rumpled suit and wilted bouquet, insecurity seeped back into his veins like a thirsty flower.
She blew out a breath, her cheeks puffing with the effort. “I’m sorry. That’s rude of me.” She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “I’m just a bit wound up.”
“That’s why I’m here. To be with you.”
“You know what I’m doing?”
“For the most part.”
“What did Dick tell you?”
“That you are turning yourself in.”
She blinked hard, and it was all Dave could do not to take her in his arms.
“Yes. They gave me back my laptop, not enough evidence, I guess.”
&
nbsp; “That’s good.” Dave shoved his hands in his pockets. His armpits were sweating badly.
“Not really, because I still did it, right?” She sighed. “I can’t sleep for the worry they will come for me again. And not just for the rental. But I can’t admit to all the rest because of my family—ya know, my hacking group. But I can do this.”
That made Dave wonder how much Sierra had hacked over the years, but he remained quiet. Anything he said right now would only sound like a judgment in one form or another.
“So…” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve come in to tell them the truth.”
“That’s good, Sierra, really good.”
“And I’m going to stop hacking.” She was blinking again, and then a single tear loosened and fell onto her cheek. In two steps, Dave had his arms around her. She tucked into his shoulder, her arms around his back, the smell of the bouquet strong in his nose, overpowering Sierra’s scent.
“I did it for survival. Originally. But then it became an addiction and I couldn’t stop.”
“I know.”
She cried, snuffling big breaths. “I don’t want to go to jail.” At the last word, she sobbed, her shoulders shaking beneath his arms.
“You won’t go to jail.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ll do everything I can to keep that from happening.”
“No, I can’t let you.”
“Yes, you can. Everyone deserves someone to care for them in their life. I’ll even mortgage the shop for the best lawyer if I have to.”
“Oh, God, don’t talk that way. I don’t deserve it.” She stepped back and Dave, unwilling let her go, slowly let her out of his grasp. She pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped under her eyes where her mascara had run. Dave took it from her and threw it in the trash. She held up the letter he had noticed earlier. “I’ve got a formal apology I’ve written to Hertz. I’m hoping it helps along with my confession.”
