Texas Secrets, Lovers' Lies

by Karen Whiddon

  “I had an affair,” he began, his voice rough. “Biggest mistake of my life.”

  An affair? Whatever she’d expected him to say, it hadn’t been that. And what did that have to do with Shayna?

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did.” Now he turned to face her, his face a study in misery. “I thought it was an innocent flirtation, harmless, clean fun. But she was so persistent.”

  “I’m sorry,” Zoe said, as gently as she could manage, considering she now understood the depths of Mama Bell’s pain. “But this all seems very personal, something that should be between you and your wife. What does this have to do with Shayna?”

  Even as she asked the question, she suddenly realized she knew. His next words confirmed her guess.

  “Shayna walked in on us.”

  Her heart sank. She felt sick. “Who?” she croaked. “Who was it?”

  Eyes bleak, he spoke the name she never thought she’d hear. “Cristine.”

  Zoe blinked, unable and unwilling to hide her shock. “What?”

  “It’s true. I slept with Shayna’s best friend. A girl the same age as my own daughter. Shayna was furious.”

  “At you or at Cristine?”

  “Both, I’d guess. Mainly me.” He let his shoulders sag in defeat. “Cristine rushed out of the room. Shayna didn’t follow. Instead, she had a few choice words for me. I deserved them, but still.”

  “But still?” Zoe wasn’t sure what to say, how to react. One thing she did know for sure, the second Mr. Bell had finished confessing, she was going over to Cristine’s. She had to believe she and Shayna had hashed this out. How on earth were they still friends?

  But Mr. Bell was still talking. “Shayna looked at me with hatred in her eyes. My baby girl told me she’d never forgive me. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

  Zoe closed her eyes. “I’m sure she was stunned and hurt herself. When exactly did this happen?”

  “About three weeks before she disappeared.” He dragged his hand across his mouth, his eyes watery. “I tried to contact her for weeks after that, but she’d have nothing to do with me.”

  “She probably needed time,” Zoe said, not sure why she was even trying to soothe him.

  “Well, she got time,” he replied. “Cristine refused to see me again after that. And it appeared Shayna and Cristine were still thick as thieves, so I don’t know what Cristine told her. But whatever it was, it was enough to make my own daughter despise me.”

  “And don’t forget your wife.” Mama Bell reappeared in the doorway, her gaze shooting daggers of anger at her husband. “Marshall, I want you to leave.” She pointed at the front door with a shaking finger, her eyes red and swollen from crying. “You’ve already left this family. This time, you should know you’re not welcome back.”

  Both she and Zoe watched as he complied. After the door closed behind him, Mama Bell turned the dead bolt. “I’m calling a locksmith tomorrow and having all the locks changed. I’ll make sure and give you a set of new keys.”

  Zoe nodded. “Mama Bell,” she began, moving toward the other woman with the intention of offering a hug.

  “Hush.” Mama waved off her clumsy attempt. “I want you to go and talk to that horrible woman and see what else Cristine might have forgotten to tell us.”

  “Good point.” Then, before Mama Bell could stop her, Zoe rushed over and hugged her, planting a kiss on her plump cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Flashing a watery smile, Mama Bell pushed Zoe in the direction of the door. “Now get going. Find my Shayna. I need her more than ever.”

  Zoe nodded. “I’m on my way.” Where, she had no idea. Anywhere but there.

  She hopped into the car, taking deep breaths as she tried to control her anger. Since coming home to Anniversary, she’d constantly felt as if she was starring in a soap opera or a crazy reality show.

  Now this.

  Turning on the radio, she located the classic rock station and cranked the volume up.

  A gust of wind hit her car, nearly making her swerve into the next lane. Glancing around her, she realized the weather had changed. The green cast to the gray sky made her shiver. Off to the west, a solid line of darker clouds created a wall. Though it’d been five years since she’d lived there, any native Texan knew what a sky like this meant.

  Slowing, she rolled down her window and swore softly. Even the air felt charged. The birds had gone silent, and the unnatural stillness warned of an ominous storm.

  Sure enough, a familiar tone beeped on the radio. Severe thunderstorm warning for Henderson County. Worse, there was also a tornado warning. The announcer warned that the radar clearly showed the storm taking the awful bow-shaped arch that was never a good thing. All residents should take immediate cover.

  Zoe glanced behind her, wondering if it would be quicker to head back to the Bells’ or try to take shelter in town. She was actually closer to Brock’s apartment. Even though they hadn’t parted on the best of terms, she knew his building would have safe shelter.

  Driving to Brock’s, Zoe took a deep breath, striving for calm. Though the weather forecasters were, as usual, panicked, all around her everyone continued to go about their normal activities. There were numerous other cars on the road, and people were at the filling stations buying gas. During spring tornado season in Texas, if people went and hid every time a tornado threat loomed, nothing would ever get done. As long as the sirens weren’t sounding, everyone took a business-as-usual attitude.

  The rain started, a sudden drenching as if someone had taken a sharp knife and ripped a hole in a cloud. She turned her wipers on high and continued creeping along the street toward Brock’s.

  In the past, weather like this had energized her. These days, she had a healthy respect for it. Scary stuff.

  Little by little, hands on the steering wheel in a death grip, she tried to relax. She counted down the minutes to Brock’s place. Better to be safe than sorry.

  The pouring rain made it difficult to see. She drove slower than normal, headlights on and her wipers going overtime. She was almost there. She only hoped it didn’t hail, at least until she reached Brock’s place. If she was fortunate, she’d snag a spot under the covered parking.

  She lucked out and parked, glad of the shelter. Opening her umbrella, she took off at a run, relieved when she made it to the stairwell only slightly drenched. Closing her umbrella, she shook it out and headed up to Brock’s apartment.

  As she hit the first set of stairs, hail started to pummel the ground. Worse, as if on cue, the tornado sirens began to wail.

  Which meant a tornado had been sighted in the vicinity.

  Crud. With her heart pounding, she ran the last set of stairs, reaching the landing just as he threw open the door.

  He looked stunned to see her, but with the imminent threat, neither of them had time for social niceties.

  “Come on.” He grabbed her arm, herding her back the way she’d come. “There’s a storm shelter inside the clubhouse. It’s right around the corner.”

  The tiny hairs on her arms were electrified, her pulse skipping as they took off.

  The wind picked up, turning the rain and hail into miniature bullets. An audible roar, like the much talked about train sound, made talking difficult.

  Heart in her throat, she ran, not even bothering with her umbrella. Though he could have easily outrun her, Brock stayed with her, steering her in the right direction since they could barely see three feet in front of them.

  “Come on,” he shouted, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s close.”

  She knew better than to look. Instead, she put on a burst of speed, nearly screaming with relief when the clubhouse door materialized.

  Outside the sky had turned black.

  They got inside somehow, ba
rely able to close the door.

  “Come on,” Brock urged. “Over here.” He began tugging on a solid metal door marked Safe Room. For use in Tornado. “Come on, come on.”

  The roar grew louder, drowning out the nonstop wailing of the siren. A transformer exploded, plunging them into darkness.

  He tugged again. Miraculously, the thick metal door opened. “In here,” he said, and grabbed Zoe’s hand, yanking her into the room with him. He slammed the door behind them. Suddenly, all was silent.

  Chapter 10

  Instant panic flooded Zoe. She was claustrophobic, though she’d believed she’d managed to overcome that phobia by riding in numerous elevators in NYC. This felt different. There were no windows in this small, dark room. Truly a confined space, from which there was no escape. For her, sheer terror.

  She began practicing her breathing exercises exactly as her therapist had told her. They’d always worked before. She really needed them to work now.

  “Do you have your phone?”

  Standing frozen in place, she fumbled, trying to locate her purse. “I can’t find my purse. What is this place?” She forced the words out, wrapping her arms around her soaked self and clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

  “A tornado shelter. It’s made of reinforced concrete. Supposed to be able to weather a direct hit by an EF-4.”

  From the sound of his voice, he was turning. Or moving.

  A wave of nausea rolled over her. Tiny, cramped blackness. No. Don’t think of that.

  “If you keep hyperventilating, you’re going to pass out.” Brock’s deep voice soothed. She jumped as he reached her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “It’s okay, Zoe. We’re safe.”

  Just then, the building shuddered. But the walls of their little room held. She turned until she faced him, so she could burrow her face in his muscular chest. His body heat, despite the fact that he’d gotten as soaked as she, warmed her. In fact, snuggled up against him like this made it easier for her to breathe.

  “You’re still afraid of small spaces?”

  She nodded. “But I’m more afraid of tornadoes.”

  He chuckled, smoothing her hair. “We’re damn lucky we made it here in time. That was a close call.”

  Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t give in to panic. This was Brock. Rock solid. Here for her. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. If anyone could, he would chase the demons of her fears away.

  “Is this the only tornado shelter in the complex?”

  “Yep.” The deep rumble of his voice made her feel safe.

  “That’s weird. I don’t understand. Where is everyone else? I assume the apartment-leasing office knows about this place.”

  “And the other tenants.” His warm breath tickled her ear. “I can only assume they either didn’t take the sirens seriously, or they weren’t home. A lot of people are still at work.”

  Despite his positive tone, Zoe couldn’t help but hear the words he didn’t say. It was entirely possible the others hadn’t made it.

  No. Forcing her dark thoughts away, she felt the steady thudding of his strong heart under her ear. Here in the blackness, so close they could have been one body, she could breathe in his scent and pretend things had never changed between them.

  Temptation. For the space of a breath, she felt that this was where she belonged. In this town, with this man.

  He shifted, and she realized he was fully aroused. A wave of answering lust washed over her, making her knees weak.

  “Do you think we took a direct hit?” she asked, her voice wavering.

  He didn’t answer for a moment. Having put his hand to the small of her back, he began making circles. Each one pressed her closer and then again released her, the action mimicking something much more intimate.

  She swallowed hard, the sound loud in the silence.

  “It must be the eye,” he said, apparently detecting the change in the quiet. “If it was, then that is one big tornado.”

  Just like that, the mood was broken. She went to move back, but he held her in place. “Not yet.”

  “Brock—” she began.

  His lips brushed hers, effectively silencing her. Despite herself, she leaned into him, wanting more. But, instead, she felt the incredibly erotic sensation of his mouth, kissing the hollow of her throat.

  A sound broke the darkness. With a sense of shock, she realized it had been a moan, escaping her.

  “Brock,” she tried again, not even sure what she wanted to say. She could beg him to make love to her, right here, right now, or she could ask him to stop.

  A horrible crash, the sound of something slamming against the door, decided for her.

  They both jumped.

  “It’s okay,” he said, but she knew his response was automatic.

  Immediately, a hundred thoughts raced through her mind. First and foremost, she couldn’t shake the idea that they were now trapped there, locked inside a tiny concrete tomb. Whatever had hit the door sounded huge, and who knew how long it would be before rescuers came.

  Again she began to hyperventilate. Which was bad, because they could run out of air.

  “Zoe?” As if he somehow sensed her rising panic, Brock gathered her close again. Though she still felt his arousal pressed against her, this time his touch was soothing rather than meant to stimulate.

  “Make me forget where we are. Help me think of living, rather than dying,” she muttered against his chest, before pulling him down to her and claiming his mouth in a hard, deep kiss. If she was going to perish in this place, she was going to go out right, damn it.

  With the man she...

  No. That was the one place she couldn’t, wouldn’t allow her thoughts to go.

  Instead, she touched him like she’d been aching to do. The complete and total darkness made her other senses more acute. Overwhelming. His skin felt like molten silk. She felt his harsh intake of breath as she slid her hands across his flat stomach.

  At the edge of his jeans, she hesitated. This was wrong. They’d already agreed. But why did it feel so right?

  Just then, the door was yanked open. Brilliant light blinded her as she stumbled, away from Brock. Even so, he steadied her, putting his arm around her waist.

  “Are you folks okay?” a masculine voice asked.

  Shading her eyes with her hands, Zoe realized their rescuer was a firefighter, wearing a yellow, protective suit.

  And then she smelled smoke.

  “The tornado tore up this place pretty badly,” the firefighter said. “The structure is on fire. Someone said they saw people run in here. Come on.” He held out his hand. “We’ve got to get you out before the entire building goes.”

  Zoe let herself be led from the room, still blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light. As they did, she realized the apartment clubhouse was now wreckage, as were many of the surrounding apartment buildings.

  She turned to look at Brock. “Your place?”

  Cursing, he ran.

  As he rounded the corner, he saw his building. The roof was missing, and most of the windows were shattered, but the structure itself was still standing. When he headed toward it, one of the firefighters moved to block his path. He wore the insignia of a neighboring town, which was why Brock didn’t recognize him.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you in there.”

  Brock glared at him. “What do you mean? I live there. That’s my home.”

  “The structure isn’t safe, sir. It’s likely going to be condemned.”

  Striving to sound reasonable, Brock nodded. “I can understand that. I just need to get inside and grab a few of my things.”

  With that, he went to move around the guy, only to run into a harried-looking deputy named Frank. “Is there a problem h
ere?”

  “This man is trying to go inside a dangerous building.”

  “Come on, Frank. I live there.”

  Expression apologetic, Frank took Brock’s arm and turned him away from the entrance to his building. “I’m sorry, man. But it’s not safe. After it’s inspected, I’m sure you can run in and get your things.”

  “When will that be?” Brock shouldn’t have been surprised, but he needed to get a change of clothes and some toiletries.

  “I have no idea.” Frank shrugged. “Hopefully soon.”

  “How bad is the rest of town?”

  Wincing, the other man looked down. “We’ve called in the National Guard. The State Police are on their way, too. The twister went right down Main Street. So far, we haven’t found any casualties, but that could change at any time.”

  Brock clapped Frank on the back. “Go on, then. You’ve got worse things to worry about.”

  Muttering his thanks, Frank hurried off.

  When Brock returned to where he’d left Zoe, she was sitting on the back tailgate of the ambulance, wrapped in a blanket and sipping something from a plastic cup. She looked so forlorn in the moment before she noticed him that his chest ached.

  More than anything, he wanted to wrap her in his arms.

  He didn’t. He couldn’t. But the storm had made him realize something. Nature had ripped away his old life. He now needed to start anew.

  First up, he had to find another place to live. After he got the basics in order, he and Zoe would have a heart-to-heart.

  * * *

  After receiving a text from his sister letting him know she was all right, Brock drove Zoe home. She appeared slightly shell-shocked. Mama Bell’s car, while undamaged, had been pinned in under the carport by fallen trees. The fire department had promised to notify her as soon as it was safe to pick it up. Right now, they had more urgent demands.

  Driving back to the Bells’ was difficult due to fallen trees and downed power lines and police barricades announcing various road closures. The sheriff’s office was spread thin, yet they were doing what they could to keep the citizens of Anniversary safe.