Read With Your Heart: a small town romance

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Tricia, please.” His voice breaks, and I stand straighter, pushing off the counter’s edge.

  “Baby—”

  “He’s dead, Tricia. Trent’s dead.”

  + + +

  I didn’t give it a second thought. I rush through the house and collect my jacket and my bag. I toss my phone in it and tell Lys I have to run an emergency errand for Levi, but I’d be back soon.

  I should have called Leon. I should not have been going to that house alone. Why is it that smart women do not always act smart?

  However, I did not want to believe Levi would trick me. If Trent wasn’t dead, I’d kill him, and it wasn’t even a joke. I just couldn’t wrap my head around what Levi just told me.

  Trent was dead.

  How? When? What happened? I ignore the sick feeling inside me.

  Leon wasn’t going to be home for dinner. He was working late. He couldn’t have done this. He just couldn’t have.

  My heart hammers in my chest as I park in the familiar drive. My hands shake when I exit my car in the dark night and head to the front steps of the main house. From the road, you can’t see the cabin. You’d need to pull behind the house in order to see a light on in the distance, near the tree line, more than a football field away from this old, ranch-style home.

  A blurry-eyed Levi answers the door after I knock on the metal frame of the screen. The red-rimmed, swollen eyes immediately confirm my fear. Trent really is dead.

  I step inside the house and pull Levi to me. He doesn’t bawl like the baby he once was, but he lets out a sob before I guide him to the couch. His father is passed out in his typical chair, bottle of vodka to the side with a short tumbler beside it.

  “Does he know?” I whisper as if I’m going to wake his father when I know better. There’s no stirring Robert when he’s like this. Levi shakes his head, covering his face with both hands before scrubbing at it.

  “Tell me what happened?”

  “We had a fight,” he begins. “Trent was upset. I’d seen his face. He told me Leon did that to him, and he was going to get his revenge. He was going to get his wife back from that man.” Levi shivers, leaving out some of the more colorful language I’m certain Trent used.

  “I told him he should leave you alone. You seemed happy.” Levi shakes his head like it was the worst thing he could have said. Like my happiness was the worst thing in the world.

  “He said some things . . . and I just . . .”

  “It’s okay. You don’t need to repeat what he said about me. Just tell me more about the fight.”

  “He was so pissed. I’ve never seen him like that, almost manic. He was pacing and ranting. He was holding the bottle in his hand just like Dad.” Levi’s eyes drift to the gallon next to the recliner.

  “I told him again to leave you alone. He told me you were his wife. You belonged to him.” Levi turns his face back to me. “But I told him he’d lost the privilege. I knew what he’d done to you. I saw him. I heard him.” Levi’s voice cracks. “And then he brought another woman here. It just wasn’t right.”

  My weak grin in response to him is conflicted. This growing young man was defending my honor when it wasn’t his responsibility to protect me. I should have taken him with me when I left. He needed to get out of this mess.

  “He was even more upset when I told him he didn’t deserve you. You were too good for him.”

  I gasp. “What did he do?”

  “He slapped me, but I shoved him back. He wasn’t expecting it, and he stumbled and fell on his ass.” Levi sits straighter, conflicted about standing up for himself. “He told me I’d regret that, but he was happy to see I was turning into a man.” Levi glances at me again, and I’m certain there are a few other choice words he’s omitting. Nicknames Trent liked to call his younger brother that connected him to the female anatomy, or just a female in general.

  “I told him I hated him when he was like that.” Levi closes his eyes, and I squeeze his thigh. My hand has been resting there as encouragement to tell me everything, but the extra pressure tells him I know what he means. There’s an inner conflict when you hate the person you are supposed to love so much.

  “But I loved him, too,” Levi adds, his voice cracking. “He was my brother. In his own sick way, he was a good brother. I didn’t want to be like him, but he was still my hero.”

  I understood. As sick as it was, like Levi said, I understood what he meant. His brother had given up a lot to be the dad their father hadn’t been, but Trent wasn’t fatherhood material. Trent hadn’t had a good role model himself. I glance at Robert one more time.

  “So what happened?” I sense we’re nearing the end, and the story isn’t going in the direction I’d feared. I’m relieved before Levi even tells me, and I curse my own doubts of Leon. He’d never harm Trent like this.

  “He went to the cabin and then called me to meet him. I didn’t want to go out there.” Levi peers up at me with fear in his eyes over what could have happened to him. “I told him ten minutes, but I took my time walking back there. He called me again and again, and finally, I sent him a text telling him I was almost there.”

  Levi shivers. His hands at his knees curl into fists, and I reach forward to cover one. “He must have gone out the back of the cabin. He knew I was almost there, but I wasn’t fast enough.” Levi’s breath grows more exaggerated. His clenched fists nearly turn white. “I heard the gun, and then I just ran. I ran around the corner of the cabin, following the sound to the edge of the woods, and I just . . . I just . . .” Levi breaks into a full-body sob, and I wrap my arms around his back and waist, pulling him to me. Holding him like the man-child he is, rocking him back and forth over my lap.

  “Okay,” I say. “Okay, you don’t need to tell me more.” I continue to rock him and rock him like the baby boy he once was and try to soothe the hurt that I fear will fuel the adult he’ll become from this horrible situation.

  I’m still holding Levi when a sharp rap sounds on the metal frame of the screen door, and I jump. Levi jolts upward, and his eyes snap to mine. “Who could that be?”

  “Did you call the sheriff?” I question.

  “I called you first.” Levi continues to stare at me.

  “Trent, open this damn door. I know she’s in there.”

  “Leon,” I whisper, releasing Levi and standing slowly. My feet somehow carry me to the front door, and I pull it open. The second I see Leon, he opens the screen, and I lunge for him. I hold onto him like I did just last night. Fear and relief wrap tightly around my chest, and I clutch at him.

  “Okay, baby. It’s okay. What’s happening here?”

  “Trent’s dead,” I mutter into his neck. Leon’s soothing hands still on my back.

  “He’s what?”

  I pull back but don’t look up at him. “He killed himself.” The words are so acidic on my tongue my throat burns. I feel sick, and Leon is lifting me by my waist to walk me back into the house. I slide down his body until my feet touch the floor and Leon closes the front door. His eyes scan the room, landing on Robert briefly before finding Levi still seated on the couch.

  Levi’s head lifts, and he addresses Leon. “So you’re him.”

  “I’m him,” Leon confirms. He’s the man I love. The man I live with.

  “You beat up my brother,” Levi states, sitting straighter on the couch.

  “Can I be real with you, kid? He hurt Tricia.” My breath hitches as Levi’s eyes drift to me and back to Leon. Something passes between the two of them, but I can’t read guy eye-speak. I worry Levi’s about to lunge at Leon and accuse him of all kinds of things. His own temperament is fragile at the moment.

  Then Levi nods.

  Leon speaks. “This your old man?”

  Levi turns his head to his father and nods again, then shakes his head in embarrassment.

  “Did you call the sheriff?” Leon questions, and Levi shakes his head.

  “I called Tricia first.”

  “Where is he?” L
eon asks. Oh God, I hadn’t thought of that. Is Trent still out there? Levi holds Leon’s stare. “Okay, kid. We need to call the sheriff and get him out of here.” He pauses and turns to me, his eyes roaming my body for signs of harm. “What happened?”

  I give him the short version of things, and when I finish, Leon turns back to Levi. He releases me and steps over to Levi. He hands him his cell phone. “Make the call. 9-1-1.”

  Leon’s calm is almost frightening in and of itself, but I’m so glad he’s here because I can’t think straight. I can’t wrap my head around what’s happened here.

  We wait out the sheriff, and the next few hours pass in a blur. Questions and more questions for Levi. A quick interrogation of Leon and me—which I don’t appreciate—and then the waking up of Robert Walker by Bart Wiggins, the sheriff, who delivers the news about Trent. Robert doesn’t even cry. He just picks up his bottle and stumbles to his bedroom.

  “We found these two envelopes,” Derek, the deputy sheriff, gives them both to me. I glance up at him in question until I see one says my name and the other is for Levi.

  “We think it’s best you to open them here,” Sheriff Wiggins gently speaks to me. “It might give us a clue to what happened.”

  My envelope is a large manila one, and inside, I find my divorce papers ripped to shreds. A small slip of paper among the remains tells me Trent’s final thoughts.

  You’ll always be my wife.

  He’d refused to sign the papers, leaving me his widow instead. I hand the papers and the envelope to the sheriff, excusing myself for the bathroom. Once there, I gag, and I choke, bending over the toilet, but nothing comes up. I hate him with every part of my being while I struggle with the fact that once upon a time, I’d loved him. How did it come to this? How had I not been aware of who he would be? How did I not see signs that this is how it would end?

  Leon finds me in the bathroom and helps me wipe my face. “We need to get you out of here.”

  I completely agree. I want to go home—my home.

  We return to the living room to find Levi sitting with his letter in his lap, silent tears streaming down his face. He’s already told the sheriff everything, and his letter must confirm what they already know of Trent’s end.

  Levi looks up at me. “He told me he loved me anyway.” Levi’s voice strains. “I told him I hated him, and he told me he loved me.”

  It might have been the first time Levi has ever heard the words from his brother, and I’m crushed. I fold to my knees in front of him and pull him to me once again. How much more heartache can I take this week?

  “Are we done here?” Leon addresses the sheriff, and Bart says we’re finished. They’ll handle the rest. I don’t want to be here anymore, and I hear Leon’s voice over my head.

  “Get some things. You’ll come with us.” I twist at the waist to find he’s addressing Levi.

  “I can’t leave my dad,” Levi states, staring down the hallway to where the bedrooms are.

  “You will tonight,” Leon tells him. Leon tells the sheriff Levi will be with us if they need him for anything else. I must admit this take-charge attitude and not taking no for an answer does something to me. Levi stands and disappears down the hallway to his room, and I stand from the floor. Bart Wiggins leaves the house after telling us he’s going to contact someone to check on Robert. Once he’s gone, Leon turns on me.

  “Woman, quit frightening the fuck out of me.”

  I stare at him. “What?”

  “When I can’t get ahold of you, I think the worse kinds of things. I called Jess and then Lys told me you had an emergency with Levi. Jess gave me the address here, and I was ready to haul your fine ass out of here when I saw that kid.” He blows out a breath. “And it’s Israel all over again for me, and I can’t leave him alone with that.” He points toward the hall, implying Robert and his current condition. I throw myself at Leon again, and he catches me, holding me tight to him.

  His heart is so much bigger than he lets on, and I know his gruffness comes across gruffiest when he cares about someone, like with his sister Lena and their fights. With tonight’s take-charge display, I just want to tackle him to the floor and let him inside me, giving him my body and my heart because he deserves them both. He owns them both.

  Levi returns to the front room. “Think he’ll be all right?” he questions of his father.

  “What normally happens when he’s like this?” Leon asks, and Levi looks up at Leon.

  “Right. He’ll be fine,” Levi says, and I hate that this sweet boy of fifteen has lived this kind of life.

  Lesson 26

  The truth hurts and heals.

  [Tricia]

  I don’t dwell on Trent’s death as I should. Leon hovers, constantly checking my emotions.

  “I’m fine,” I say. It isn’t exactly a lie, but it isn’t the full truth. I’m in a funk. I should be grieving Trent, and I am in my own way. He was my husband, right? I didn’t want him to die. I just didn’t want to be with him anymore. In hindsight, I’d never understood his thought process or his heart, even if he claims I owned it. My concern rests with Levi and what this might mean for him. His brother protected him in some ways and hurt him in others. Life must be so confusing for him. His mother abandoned him. His father is a drunk. His brother was a contradiction. I vow to give Levi all the love I can in whatever manner he’ll allow.

  “He’s hurting,” I say to Leon in the quiet of the night after Levi falls asleep in Leon’s old bedroom.

  “He’s going to hurt for a long time,” Leon admits. “When I lost Israel, I felt like I’d lost a limb.”

  I shift on the bed to look down at him, perching my head up on my hand. Leon’s on his back staring up at the ceiling.

  “I know Lena and Lys told you what they know. A drive-by where we used to live. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it wasn’t. My kid brother was trouble, and I was right there with him.” Leon bitterly chuckles. “But I held him in my arms, and you never forget that. The sight. The sound.” His breath hitches, eyes closing, and I shift to bring his head to my chest, curling my arms around him.

  “I hate that that happened to you.”

  “Me too,” he whispers, his breath like a kiss to my breast. “But it happened, and it shaped my life for a long time.” He pulls back so he can look up at me. “That’s how I know how this could go for him.”

  He implies Levi, and I listen.

  “He can either take that pain and hate the world as I did, or he can strive for something better. I wanted revenge, and I had a reason. Someone shot my brother at my parents’ front door. But Levi? He’s got no one to blame but Trent, and Trent’s gone, so he can either take that hurt and turn it on others, bury it deep inside, or let it out so love can come in.”

  Leon blows out another breath and rolls to his back again.

  “I messed up.” His eyes close, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I messed up in so many ways, and I got caught, again and again and again. Never learned my lesson. Then one day, I just woke up, and said, ‘Enough.’ I wanted out, and they were ready to let me go. Just one more job and then I was finished. I’d take my branding, but I got caught big. I served my time, but I do not want that for that kid.” He points toward Levi’s room, and the compassion in this man for a child he hardly knows warms me in ways I never knew possible.

  “Is that why you have those marks on your back?” The raised skin is an etching into his shoulder blade like one might brand livestock.

  “It was the way out. They’ll own me for life, but I’m not part of them anymore. It’s one of the reasons I moved here. I just wanted to start over somewhere quiet, without trouble.” He chuckles softly. “Been one bit of trouble after another,” he adds, rolling his head to look at me.

  “You mean I’m trouble?” I quietly tease, but the question is there.

  “The worst kind,” he replies. “The kind you can’t walk away from, can’t turn away from. The kind that burrows under your skin and into your he
art.”

  “You did walk away,” I gently remind him.

  “I did. I’m a quick study. I reflect on my mistakes. And I’m back.” He holds my eyes. “I’m back for your kind of trouble.”

  Leaning forward, I press my lips to his, tender and soft the way he used to take mine at first. His tongue comes quick, but I have other plans. I suck at the thick muscle and then draw back. Leon looks at me with hesitant silver eyes when I lean over him and push against his shoulder.

  “Roll to your stomach,” I command.

  “Pretty lady,” he warns, but I keep my hand on him, pressing until he’s on his belly. Then my fingers trace the large tattoo over his back. A snake curls up his spine and over his broad shoulder blades. The brand covers the inky black, marring and distorting the image, and my fingers coast over it. It’s a mark of some sort—not a crest, not a letter, but a symbol—and I want to ask, but then again, I don’t.

  “It’s a crown,” he mutters into the pillow. I trace up each point, and Leon adds, “Five points represent the philosophy of love, respect, sacrifice, honor, and obedience.” His past is something I’ll never understand, but I’m reminded it’s also his past. It has shaped who he is but does not need to define who he will be.

  I lower and place a kiss to his skin. His shoulder blades flex, and I set my palm against one while I continue to press kisses to the rest of him. The tattoo. The brand. His bare back. When I’ve covered each inch, stopping near the dip of his spine into his waistband, I press at his side, so he’ll shift to his back again.

  “Tricia?” he questions, but we are no longer talking. The only thing I have to say will come from my mouth—but not with words. I tug at the waistband of his sweats, lowering them enough so he springs free. He’s glorious, all long and thick with a deep vein running up the shaft. My fingers curl around him, and I lower once more. My mouth opens, and his hand covers the back of my head. His voice warns, but too quickly, I swallow him, sucking hard at his length and circling the tip. I draw him deeper, wanting to give him everything, wanting him to forget his past and focus on his future. I want his future to be me.