“Don’t look so sad. I lived my life making sure of that.”
“Why?” she asked.
“It’s tiring to be concerned about another person.”
After all that he’d gone through, he’d the right to feel that way.
“What was it like? Living with your mom.”
“Tiring.”
She gave him a thin lip smile; it was the only smile she could muster.
“Are you mad?”
“With?”
“With how I handled relationships, or whatever you like to call them.”
“What do you call things between us?” she blurted.
Might as well put it out there. He was frank enough to tell her that he didn’t do relationships, she might as well tell him that she didn’t do whatever it was he did.
He paused briefly and studied her face. “I think there’s a misunderstanding,” he said. “I’m saying you’re the first person whom I consider my girlfriend.”
Her fingers moved to her lips as she broke into a smile. “Then why did you look so worried when you were telling me about it? And why would I be mad?”
“You tend to feel strongly about helping people. I was afraid you’d think I’m too much of a jerk to continue dating.”
She laughed, leaning forward into his arms. “I don’t know who you were before, but right now, you’re the man I want to be with.”
He lifted her from his chest and kissed her, just as his phone started vibrating.
He pulled out his phone from the pocket and sighed.
“Do you know where she is now?”
“Somewhere, getting drunk. I haven’t seen her since she left.”
Paige’s eyes widened, and she straightened. “She left before you did?”
He nodded as if it was common knowledge.
It probably was, to the rest of the town.
“You lived on your own since then? How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
“You lived alone since you were fifteen?”
“No. My mom signed over her parental rights to the Seymours.”
Her jaw dropped. “I’m sorry.”
Justin shook his head and smiled. “Don’t be, it was actually better. I didn’t have to wake up and search for her around town to make sure she was still alive. I didn’t have to run and check out every crashing noise to make sure she hadn’t hurt herself. And besides, I was staying over at the Seymours half the time anyway.”
Paige didn’t know what to say.
She shouldn’t have asked; she was sure those were memories he didn’t want to remember. That was probably one of the reasons he’d avoided coming back here for ten years.
What a burden he’d carried as a child. Having to become the parent, living in constant fear. “And yet you still rebuilt the house for her.”
“The Seymours gave me a chance for a new life. I thought I could give her that chance, too.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to come back here because of the memories?”
“I offered to buy her a house anywhere she chooses. All she had to do was to get and stay sober. She didn’t want it. I guess a small part of me had hoped she’d just come home to see the new place. I’ve been asking the Seymours to move in so that I can rebuild their house, but they simply refuse, saying their house is fine the way it is.” He tilted his head and frowned. “What’s with the smile?”
“What smile?”
“The I-know-something-that-you-don’t smile.”
She chuckled softly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“There. There it is again.”
“I was just thinking…that though you claim not to care about people, you actually do. You clearly care about your mom and the Seymours. You care about Travis enough to spend time working on my house without getting paid.”
“But I did get the girl.” He winked. “I thought it was a pretty good deal.”
She grinned. “You cared enough to offer Jane a shirt when everyone else was laughing at her.”
His brows raised. “She told you that? That was so long ago.”
“You care enough about me to teach me how to shoot and to make me feel safe in my own house.”
“My mom wasn’t all that bad when she wasn’t drinking. The Seymours basically brought me up. Travis and Amy were the only friends I had in town, and Jane, well, I felt bad for her. But you, you’re an abnormality.” He shifted closer toward her. “Tell me, Miss Watson, what kind of spell have you woven over me?”
Chapter Eighteen
Paige’s eyes flew opened as she lay in bed. The ringing of the motion sensor alarm still reverberating in her mind. She turned to her side and looked at her digital alarm clock, glowing in the darkness of her room.
2:47 a.m.
She pressed her palm against half of her face and pushed her hair back. She didn’t have to guess who it was.
Her hand reached over to her nightstand and took the gun before pushing herself off the bed.
Even before she got downstairs, the pounding and ringing of the doorbell began.
She took in a deep breath, calmed herself, then tightened the grip on her gun as she stepped off the flight of stairs and moved toward the door.
“Paige!”
She rolled her eyes as she tucked the gun into the back of her pajamas, leaving the handle hanging out, and switched off the alarm before opening the door.
The stench of alcohol hit her the moment the door was opened. She cringed and turned her face away.
The idea of dealing with Cole was repulsive enough without the alcohol. “Go home, Cole. There’s nothing here for you.” She tried to close the door, but Cole stuck his feet in between the door and the frame.
“I’m sorry, Paige. I’m sorry for what I did,” he pleaded. “I never meant to hurt you. I can’t lose you.”
Those words by themselves would’ve sounded like a repentant man, but it wasn’t—not when the words were ripped off from her stalker’s apology letters.
“You’re sick. Get some help.” She asserted pressure on the door, hoping the pain would make Cole pull his feet out.
"No, the problem here is that you're an ungrateful whore!" He shoved hard against the door, causing it to ram against her shoulder.
She gasped and staggered back.
Stabling herself, she reached over to her left shoulder, kneading it.
But Cole wasn't done.
Paige didn't know if it was the adrenaline, the pure insanity running loose in Cole, or if the chain lock on her door was weak. Whatever it was, with another rough shove, the chain broke off from the lock and the door flew right open.
Cole didn't give her any chance to react. He lunged toward her. Her arms flew up in defense as she got pinned against the wall.
She screamed and struggled against his grasp on her wrist. The impact was extremely painful on her lower back.
The pain, however, reminded her of the vital object she’d forgotten in the midst of what was going on.
Cole leaned in close, so close that she could smell the alcohol reeking through his breath.
He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "You're mine. No matter what." He leaned, trying to press his lips onto hers.
Paige bit down on her lips and snapped her head away from him, pressing the side of her face against the wall.
He clearly didn't care if she wanted his kiss. He pressed his lips against her cheek and began moving down her neck. She screamed, kicking her legs about.
“Ugh!” He reeled from her.
Amid the darkness, she didn’t know what was going on. She pulled out her gun and fired two shots in the general direction. She didn’t care if she hit him.
Turning to the door, she bolted out, dashing across the small grass patch toward the Seymours.
The door opened before she was barely out of the house. Mr. Seymour stepped out with his rifle in hand while Mrs. Seymour stood behind him, her arms opened, gesturing for Paige to move over t
oward her.
She ran past Mr. Seymour and heard the distinctive double clicks of his rifle as he cocked his gun.
She flinched when the rifle fired, but she kept running until she was next to Mrs. Seymour. The distance between the two houses never seemed farther.
“It’s all right, Paige. It’s all right.” Mrs. Seymour slowly reached for her gun and took it from her shivering hands. “Let’s get inside.”
Mrs. Seymour wrapped her arm over her shoulders and half dragged her into the house.
She jumped when another shot went off.
“It’s okay, it’s just Victor.”
Paige crossed her arms and pulled them close against her chest. She couldn’t get rid of the chill running across the surface of her skin.
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Mrs. Seymour sat her down on the couch.
She closed her eyes. “He tried, but no. How did you know he was at my house?”
“I heard him shouting your name.”
“He’s gone.” Mr. Seymour came in and placed his gun down beside the door.
“Did you hit him? Did I?”
“I couldn’t see clearly,” he said. “But I don’t think so.”
She buried her face in her hands. “This has to stop. It’s getting out of hand.”
Mrs. Seymour sat beside her, rubbing her back.
“Paige.”
Lifting her head, she gave Justin a wry smile as he got down on one knee right in front of her.
He cradled her face in his hands. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He scrutinized her expression for a moment before reaching for her hand. He looked down and his eyes widened when he saw her wrist.
“I’m okay,” she assured when she noticed the redness around her wrist. “I’m okay.”
His face was expressionless, but his chest heaved as he took in a deep breath through his nose. He turned to Mrs. Seymour and asked in a controlled tone, “Have you called the police?”
“Right after I called you,” Mrs. Seymour said. “Why don’t you take her upstairs and rest? I’ll get you kids when they are here.”
Paige took in a deep breath and closed her eyes again. She was feeling quite tired.
Justin stood and pulled her to her feet. With his arm over her waist, he accompanied upstairs.
That was when she remembered where Cole’s lips had been. She went into the bathroom and washed her cheek and neck with whatever soap she could find. She didn’t care if it was going to cause her skin any problem, she would rather have her skin peeling than whatever he had left on her.
“Paige, stop. You’ll tear your skin.” Justin took her hand and pulled it down.
It took her a moment to react, but she eventually nodded and washed the foam away.
They walked into the guest room in silence until she got onto the bed. She shifted, leaning her back against the headboard. “I shot him, somewhere in his general direction. But I don’t think I hit him.”
“You kept your word.”
She laughed dryly as Justin pulled the blanket over her and got onto the bed. He pulled her against his chest and asked softly, “What happened?”
“The chain lock doesn’t work.”
“You know that isn’t what I was asking.”
She took in a deep breath and sighed. “He didn’t manage to do anything. He would’ve if he could, I’m sure of that.”
She gave him the whole story. Each time she glanced up at him, he would stroke through her hair and crack a small, momentary smile at her.
“Did Mr. Seymour hit him?” he asked after she completed her story.
“He wasn’t sure. But he was certainly well enough to drive away.” She snuggled against his chest. “Do you think he’ll come back?”
“He hadn’t given up even after everything.”
She closed her eyes. No amount of worrying was going to give her a solution. “I think I might need a new door.”
“I’ll fix it tomorrow.” He gave her a peck on her forehead. “Rest for awhile. I’ll wake you when the police get here.”
Justin wanted to kick himself for his stupid decision.
He shouldn’t have gone home, he should’ve continued crashing on the couch. Maybe then he could’ve prevented the situation. He sighed softly and tilted his head to the side, leaning against Paige’s hair. Her head rested on his shoulder while her hand lay on his chest.
At least she was safe now, but he didn’t think he could let her stay in her house alone, not after this.
He kept expecting Mrs. Seymour to come up those stairs and get them. He lay in bed, listening to the soft swooshing of the clock’s pendulum and the muffled noise of the TV downstairs.
The adrenaline rush that got him here was seeping away with each swoosh. He was sure that if he closed his eyes, he would fall asleep immediately.
Slowly, he tried to slip his arm from under Paige.
She gasped as her eyes flew right open.
“It’s okay, it’s just me.”
The tension from her body vanished. She pushed her fringe from her face. “Are they here?”
“No. I’ll go down and take a look. You want to come with me?”
Nodding, she slipped off the bed.
“Why are they taking so long?” he asked the moment he saw Mrs. Seymour.
“I don’t know, I called them twice. I’ll call again,” Mrs. Seymour said.
“No need, they’re here.” Mr. Seymour moved from the window and opened the door.
Justin scoffed as he saw the police officer walk into the house.
Bryan? How did a school bully become a police officer?
Behind him trailed a younger officer. Someone he’d seen in school as well, but he couldn’t remember a name to go along with the face.
“Hey, Justin. Heard you were back,” Bryan said after nodding at both Mr. and Mrs. Seymour.
Bryan’s leisure pace and casual greeting infuriated him.
“You sure took your own sweet time coming over.”
“Everyone appears to be doing fine.”
A reply that didn’t just irked Justin.
Mrs. Seymour stepped forward with her arms akimbo. “No thanks to you. You took nearly an hour to get here. If we had needed help, we would all be dead.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Seymour. We already knew it wasn’t an emergency, we’ve been informed of Miss Watson’s condition.”
“Condition?” Paige asked.
Bryan rolled his eyes at Paige as if she was a nuisance rather than the victim.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Justin demanded.
“Her boyfriend, a Mr. Cole Crowen?” He paused, looking over at Paige. “He came to inform us of Miss Watson’s tendency to create stories to gain attention.” Directing his attention back to Justin, he continued. “She was seeing a therapist, you know.”
“Cole is her ex; an ex who won’t stop harassing her.”
“Oh, so it’s true. You are seeing her,” Bryan sneered. “You don’t know her, Justin. She’s only trying to get your attention. But I guess she succeeded.”
Justin took in a deep breath and lifted Paige’s arm, showing Bryan the red imprints caused by Cole’s grip. “Look at her hands.”
“Anyone could’ve done that. She could’ve grabbed her own arms.”
“Are you serious?” Paige huffed.
Turning away, Justin crooked his jaw and said dryly, “Just because he wears spectacles and looks studious, doesn’t mean he is trustworthy.”
“I’ve been a police officer for years, I’m sure I can judge a person’s character better than you. Besides, the sheriff was the one who instructed us to ignore her cries of wolf.”
“I saw him running out from Paige’s house,” Mr. Seymour stated.
“On the phone, Mrs. Seymour said she heard a gun shot. Maybe he was running from her.”
“Don’t be an idiot. She was running from him. She ran to our house, then he ran out from her house and toward his car.”
&n
bsp; “It’s forced entry at the least. My chain lock was in place, he broke it down,” Paige added calmly.
Bryan nodded, but didn’t bother to write anything down. Only when he saw Mrs. Seymour glaring at him did he patronizingly asked Paige, “Do you have actual proof that he tried to hurt you?”
“I’m pretty sure you can see what happened to my door. What else do you need?”
“DNA?” Bryan said with a smirk.
Paige threw her hands in the air and turned away. “This is ridiculous.”
“What DNA? Do you even know what is going on?” Justin was beginning to seriously wonder how an idiot like Bryan could become a police officer.
Bryan flashed a smirk over at the younger officer and shrugged. “Since there’s no evidence, I guess that’s all for tonight.”
Mrs. Seymour’s eyes widened. “That’s all? That guy has been harassing Paige since he’s arrived. What if he comes back again?”
“Maybe you should be more careful about who you let into your house, Mrs. Seymour.”
“Are you lecturing me?”
Justin clenched his jaws, his hand curling into a fist.
The sudden warmth from Paige’s finger running down his arm distracted him. She gave him a wink before spinning back around and taking a large step toward Bryan. “Mrs. Seymour, do you know his full name?” she asked, her face straight.
“Yes,” Mrs. Seymour replied.
“Feel free to leave then, officer. My lawyer will contact you and your department.”
“Lawyer?” Bryan rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know how things work in small towns, but in New York, there’s always a case to fight when you get the right lawyer. And of course, right lawyers don’t come cheap. But thankfully, graduating first in class from an ivy league do guarantee certain levels of pay.” Paige smirked and continued. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to sue just you, I’ll pull the whole department in. I’ll make sure to let your boss know you’re the reason I’m doing all this.”
Bryan scoffed. “Yeah.”
“You don’t think I have the money? Run a check, I’m sure you can find where I used to work and my position there. Or check with the agent who sold me the house; it’s fully paid in cash. Can you do that?”
Returning to Justin, her smirk grew into the same smile he’d grown accustomed to when she saw how much he was enjoying it. “Goodnight, officer.”
A Fresh Start Page 22
