“It’s not that,” I said with a shake of my head. “Well, not totally that.” Even I couldn’t lie to myself and say it didn’t bother me, seeing him with all those other women, but it wasn’t like I had any claim on the guy. Like Poppy said, he was single, so he wasn’t technically doing anything wrong. “It isn’t him. It’s me. I’m a mess.”
And isn’t that just the goddamn truth?
Poppy’s eyes shined with sympathy as she placed her hand on mine and gave it a squeeze. “Because of your ex?”
My eyes began to sting, and as frustrating as it was, I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up as I sniffled. I’d told Poppy a little about my life before Redemption, but I only gave her the bare bones. I was engaged, he cheated, I broke up with him and moved here because it was time for a fresh start. I’d never spoken of that night nearly a year ago with anyone but my therapist back in Connecticut, not even to Jase and Bennett. They knew what happened because they’d been at the hospital, but we’d never sat down and actually discussed it.
“No, it isn’t because of Lance,” I murmured, starting down into my mug at the dregs of coffee swirling around the bottom. “I was attacked,” I finally admitted, my voice so quiet I would have worried she hadn’t heard had it not been from the gasp she sucked in.
There was no going back now. The three words that would start the avalanche of emotions were now out there, floating in the space between us, so I figured I might as well give her everything.
“I’d gotten my wedding dress from this exclusive place in New York, so I’d driven into the city for a fitting. Usually, I had our driver, Bennett, take me to things like that, but I’d gotten into this huge fight with my mom earlier that day about something stupid and just wanted to be by myself, you know? I wasn’t in the mood to be around people. And as I was walking to my car . . .” I had to stop for a second, and once I had my bearings, my voice shook as I relayed the rest of the story. “He came out of nowhere. At first, I thought he was robbing me. I mean, you hear about purse snatchers in the city all the time. But . . . that wasn’t the case.”
Her fingers clenched around mine as she whispered, “Oh my God.”
“I swear, Poppy, I can still remember his voice clear as a bell. I still remember what he smelled like. I think that might be the worst part . . . remembering.”
"Farah, honey, you don’t have to—”
I kept going, feeling the need to get the story out like I was sucking snake venom from a wound. “I fought as hard as I could, but he was just so big. After he raped me, I thought that was it. I prayed that it was over and he’d just leave.” I lifted my shirt to reveal the small, faint scars. There were three just beneath my left breast. Those were the ones that punctured my lung. There were two more a bit higher that she couldn’t see through my bra, the two that had nearly ended my life.
I let out a humorless laugh as I lowered my shirt back in place. “My parents were pissed. They paid a cosmetic surgeon a fortune to remove the scars, but the doctor couldn’t get rid of them completely. Mom and Dad couldn’t stand the sight of them. It was just a reminder to them that I was tarnished now. I remember overhearing my mom ranting to my dad one night after she thought I’d gone to sleep. She was worried no man would want me with those scars on my body.”
“Oh, Farah—”
My voice came out bitter and abrasive as I continued. “I nearly died on the way to the hospital, and again in surgery, and all they cared about were the goddamn scars. Do you know they actually told me I was lucky that Lance still wanted me? And he was just as bad. He could barely look at me until I had them removed, and every time he saw them, he curled his lip in disgust.”
Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but at that, Poppy’s face flushed with anger. “Those fuckers didn’t deserve you.”
I choked on a burst of bewildered laughter. Hearing something like that coming from the sweet, soft-spoken woman in front of me was totally unexpected. I hadn’t thought it possible after telling that horrible story, but I actually felt a smile tug at my lips at the rage blanketing her adorable features. “You know, Pop, a word like that coming out of your mouth just seems so wrong.”
But apparently she didn’t see the humor in the situation like I did. “This isn’t a joke,” she clipped furiously. “I’m being serious. Your parents are assholes. And that ex . . . I wanna track him down and punch him right in the balls. I’m glad you left Connecticut and moved here. They don’t deserve to breathe your air.”
My laughter dried up and my smile faded away. That burn returned to my eyes, but this time, it was due to the sincerity in Poppy’s voice. She actually cared about me. I’d never had a friend give a damn about me before, and I had to admit, it felt amazing.
“I’m glad too,” I croaked, emotion making my throat thick. “But I’m glad because, if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have met you.”
And that was the God’s honest truth.
I had Bennett and Jase, and while they’d always been enough, it felt incredible to have more people in my life. I had Poppy. I had Darla and Buck and Shane. I had the customers I was getting to know at the bar. New Farah had people.
Like I’d told Cannon last night, I’d gone with my gut moving here, and it was the best decision I’d ever made.
“Did the police ever catch the guy who hurt you?” Poppy asked, bringing me back to reality.
I gave her a sad smile and shook my head. “There was nothing to go on. He’d worn a ski mask and hoodie so I couldn’t give them any kind of description. They’d done a rape kit at the hospital, but the police couldn’t find a match in the system.”
“I’m so sorry, Farah. I hate that that happened to you.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“And I’m sorry I pushed about Cannon. If I’d known, I never would’ve—”
I waved her concern off. “It’s okay. And you were right. I do like him, and that’s why I’m so terrified. I hid from him in a bathroom for Christ’s sake. He’s the first man in a really long time I’ve felt any kind of attraction to, and I’m spiraling because of it.”
“That’s totally understandable,” she insisted. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I will say this: the fact you’re here right now, rebuilding your life, is a testament to how incredibly brave you are. You might see your behavior as spiraling, but all I see is one of the strongest women I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting.”
I let out a small laugh, batting away the wet that had trailed down my cheeks. “You’re pretty awesome too.”
The sadness drifted out of her expression and she smiled. “Thanks. Now, stop sweating this Cannon business. When you’re ready, you’ll figure it out. In the meantime, we need to go get you a new phone.”
And with that, my new friend and I loaded up in her Jeep Wrangler and went to get me a new cellphone.
Chapter Ten
Farah
Tucked back in the very corner at the end of the bar, I kept an eye on the door as I waited for Darla to fill my order.
It had been four days since I blew Cannon off, and I hadn’t heard a single word from him. And with each day that passed, I felt worse and worse about my shitty behavior. I’d spent the majority of every shift at Bad Alibi watching the door, just waiting for him to come in, and each time it opened, only for someone else to enter, a ball of disappointment grew in my belly until it was so big I couldn’t hardly think of eating.
I knew what was happening. I’d known for two days now, ever since I got a call from Banks that my car was ready instead of his velvet-voiced son.
Cannon was avoiding me. And I couldn’t blame him one damn bit.
When Poppy dropped me off at the shop, Cannon had been in the first bay, bent over the open engine compartment of a Dodge Challenger. As if feeling my eyes on him, his head turned in my direction. The moment our eyes met, a tiny smile formed on my lips, and I lifted my hand in a wave. I’d shifted to start in his direction, but when he turned back to the car and
resumed working like I wasn’t even there, I’d chickened out.
He was done with me. I’d acted like a bitch and blown him off, and now he was done.
And man, that hurt.
I’d been psyching myself up to apologize, hoping I’d see him at the bar, but he hadn’t shown.
I was so busy watching the door like a hawk, I didn’t feel Shane approach until her tray hit the counter beside me and she let out a heavy sigh.
Smudges of purple stained the skin beneath her eyes, and while she still looked gorgeous, the exhaustion was obvious. “You okay?”
Her smile was tired and barely reached her eyes. “I’m okay. Just beat. Brantley hasn’t been sleeping well the past few nights.”
My heart tugged at the mention of Shane’s son. I hadn’t met him in person, but she’d shown me pictures, and he was the most adorable four-year-old boy I’d ever laid eyes on. I didn’t want to pry, so I hadn’t asked a lot of questions, but from what I’d been able to gather, Brantley’s dad wasn’t in the picture at all, and Shane was left holding the bag completely alone. I hadn’t once heard her complain. She loved that little boy to pieces, but there were times like tonight, where the strain of being a single mother was written heavily on her face.
This wasn’t the first time I’d seen her and wished there was some way I could help. One night she’d gotten a call and had to leave before the end of her shift. Her son was running a high fever, and the sitter had taken him to the emergency room. Shane had been in a panic, and seeing that broke my heart.
When Darla and I were closing the bar down and had gotten on the subject of Shane, she let slip that Shane wasn’t just struggling with single motherhood, but financially as well. Apparently poor little Brantley got sick often, and Shane was being buried under the weight of all those medical bills.
I’d been sick to my stomach after hearing that. There I was, with more money than I’d ever know what to do with, and a woman I’d come to know and care about was silently drowning in debt. Since that night, Darla and I had worked out an agreement. I’d give her all my tips and she’d slip some into Shane’s apron whenever she took her break, and at the end of the night, when she closed us out and reconciled our float, she’d sneak in the rest.
It wasn’t much, but it was the best I could do, at least until she got to know me well enough that she wouldn’t balk at the thought of taking money from me. I just hoped that happened sooner rather than later.
“I’m sorry, Shane. Is there anything I can do?”
This time, her smile was bigger. “No, but I appreciate you asking, babe. Means a lot.”
I wrapped my fingers around her forearm and gave it a squeeze. “Of course. I’m here if you need anything, even if it’s just a babysitter for a few hours so you can catch up on sleep.”
Her features softened in a way I’d only seen whenever she spoke about her son. She pulled my hand from her arm, but instead of letting it go, she wrapped her fingers around mine and held on tight. “You know, I wasn’t quite sure what to think when you first started here. I was afraid you wouldn’t stick, but I’m glad you did, and I’m even happier that I’ve gotten to know you. The fact that you’d offer something like that after everything you’ve already done means the world, Farah.”
I frowned in confusion. “But, I haven’t—”
The weariness on her eyes melted away completely and was replaced with appreciation. “I’ve always been good with numbers, babe. I keep a running tally of my tips every night. I know what you’re doing.”
A spike of worry lanced through my chest as I bit down on my bottom lip nervously before asking, “You’re not mad?”
“That you’re a good person who wants to help where she can?” She laughed with a shake of her head. “No. I’ve got my pride, but I’m not stupid. I know I need the help, and believe me, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
My shoulders sagged in relief. “I’m so glad to hear that. I was worried you’d think I was overstepping. I mean, I know we don’t know each other well, and some people get—”
Her hand gave mine another squeeze, cutting me off before I could go into full rant-mode. “I appreciate it, babe. More than you know. And I’m also totally planning to take you up on that babysitting offer. I just hope that, one day, I can return the favor and do something for you.”
With that, she grabbed her loaded tray and moved back out to the floor. She couldn’t have known, but she’d already returned the favor ten-fold just by being a friend to me.
I followed suit and was in the process of dropping off a bunch of empties when the door to the bar opened. Hope swelled in my chest when I looked over and saw Cannon making his way toward the pool tables, but that hope was immediately dashed when he continued across the bar without once looking in my direction.
Clay had shown up about an hour earlier and had joined Scooter, Danno, Fletch, and a couple other regulars, and now they were all greeting Cannon with the same back slaps and fist bumps he’d received the first night I saw him.
“Sweetheart?” At a gentle brush on my arm, my head turned to Jeb Franklin, a sweet old man who sat on the same barstool every night, from ten to close.
I offered him an apologetic grin. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Just askin’ if you were all right, darlin’. You spaced there for a bit.”
“No. Yeah. I mean, I’m good.” I gave my head a shake to try and get my words in order. “Sorry. Sometimes I just do that. Space out, that is. Bad habit.”
He smiled, showing several missing teeth beneath a scraggly beard that had seen way better days. He might not have been the most handsome man, but his kindness made him a million times more attractive than any of the men I’d known back in Connecticut. “Happens to the best of us, girl. You’re good now.”
I gave his shoulder a pat, collected my tray, and tucked it under my arm as I started for the pool tables. I’d chickened out at the shop, but I’d been waiting for this moment for days, and I wasn’t going to let it go by without apologizing. It was the very least I owed this man who’d shown me more consideration in one afternoon than I’d received from most other people in my life combined.
Cannon was sitting at the end of the cluster of tables next to the racks of pool cues. A different gorgeous woman had taken the chair next to him, and while she wasn’t actually in his lap, she’d scooted herself close enough to invade his space.
He was smiling in her direction as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear. My stomach roiled at the sight of it, but when I looked closer, I saw one of Cannon’s elbows was propped casually over the back of his chair, and the other was resting on the table. She was in his space, but he wasn’t touching her.
Pasting a smile on my face, I did my best to keep the nervous tremble out of my voice as I said, “Hey guys,” and gave the group at large a wave.
They turned to me, and the guys in the group greeted me with the same enthusiasm they had Cannon. Well, everyone but Cannon, that was. All I got from him was a cursory glance before being dismissed as he turned back to the leech of a woman at his side.
All right, so this was going to be harder than I thought. But that was okay.
Looking at him straight on, I asked, “Cannon, can I get you a drink?” proud and somewhat surprised that I managed to get the words out without stuttering or adding in a thousand “ums” and “uhs” into the mix.
Those hazels returned to me for all of three seconds. “Shot of Maker’s and a beer backer. Whatever’s on tap.” Then he looked back to the woman. I stood motionless, my eyes unable to move from his profile.
“Um . . .” Shit. And here come the nerves. “Anything else?”
He turned back to me slowly, giving me that once-over he always did, only this time, there was no heat in his eyes. In fact, they were so cold I had to suppress a shiver. “No.”
At Cannon’s chill, my courage bolted so fast it practically left a cloud of smoke in its wake. I needed to take a step
back, give myself time to regroup and think up my next move, so I exited the area and headed back to the bar to put in Cannon’s order.
As I waited, I reached into my apron and pulled out the keychain I’d gotten a couple days ago. The miniature Harley Davidson dangling from a silver ring was nothing special; hell, if I thought about it, it was pretty stupid, but when I’d gone into a little shop in town earlier that week, I’d spotted it hanging on a display, and immediately thought of him.
So, once again, I’d gone with my gut and bought it.
With Cannon’s drinks in hand, I headed back to the pool tables. I didn’t bother trying to get his attention this time. I simply placed the shot glass and beer on the table in front of him, then pulled the keychain out of my apron and put it down beside them.
I turned to move away with the plan to ask Shane to cover that section for the rest of the night when he spoke, his rumbly voice bringing me to a stop. “What the hell is this?”
I didn’t want to, I really didn’t, but I slowly spun on my heel to face the group once more, looking from the tiny Harley hanging from the end of Cannon’s index finger to his face. “It’s a keychain,” I answered.
“I see that. Care to explain why you left a cheap keychain on my table?” he replied in a cold tone I’d never heard him use before.
My stomach plummeted to the ground. I knew the little motorcycle was a lame idea, and I never should have given it to him. I should have just thrown it into the garbage and forgotten all about it. But I hadn’t. It was done, no sense in being embarrassed by it now.
“It’s just a gift.” I replied flatly. “I saw it and thought of you. I wanted to say thank you for everything you did for me with the car and . . . well, just everything.” I managed to keep my gaze pinned on Cannon, even as my cheeks burned with embarrassment and a hint of anger. I got that he was mad at me, and he had every right, but that didn’t stop the righteous indignation from steeling my spine. Ignoring the curious eyes bouncing between us like they were watching a tennis match, I planted a hand on my hip and narrowed my eyes. “Is that a sufficient enough explanation for you?”
Bad Alibi: a Redemption novel Page 9
