Romance: Calmer Tides - A Suspense Romance Novel (Romance, Suspense Romance, Contemporary Romance Book 1)

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Romance: Calmer Tides - A Suspense Romance Novel (Romance, Suspense Romance, Contemporary Romance Book 1) Page 4

by Nancy Adams


  He had to understand. He had to see her again.

  * * * * *

  The sun was so warm and comfortable, Abby nearly dozed off. She’d folded her sweater up underneath her head, since she hated picking sand out of her scalp days later, and had maybe gotten a little too comfortable. Molly was gone. She’d found a surfer she liked, and after spending 20 minutes failing to learn his craft, she’d left with him. Watching her had been exactly as painful as Abby had thought it would be. Molly’s frail body slamming again and again into the water, struggling to make the tricky transition from belly to feet. The golden-haired surfer boy had been extremely patient, picking her up and setting her up perfectly for each new wave. Another chance. But Abby had been almost relieved when Molly finally gave up, and she hadn’t so much as called out to them when they left.

  She liked seeing Molly have a good time. Liked watching her act silly and carefree. It was something Abby had lost, and something she greatly admired in her friend. Even after all her previous struggles and hardships with men, it never stopped her, or even slowed her down. Abby had chained herself to the past, but Molly looked optimistically toward the future. It wasn't necessarily the best strategy, but it had to be better than letting your past control your future. Maybe the key lay in finding a happy medium. Somewhere between the past and the future. Living in the moment. Learning day to day.

  A great idea in theory, but tough to live out.

  Just as the thought began to dissipate in Abby's mind, she heard quick scratching steps coming towards her. She squinted, blinded by the sun as a golden blob made its way towards her. Though this wasn't a blob, it was... a dog. A beautiful yellow lab.

  Abby hadn’t owned a dog since she was growing up—a little beagle named Tebow, who’d died when she was away—but she still loved them. She whistled gently, and the dog leapt wholeheartedly towards her, nearly knocking her to the ground in its excitement. All Abby could do was laugh, hands up in surrender. She’d forgotten how much she missed this. She sat up and started petting and scratching the dog all over, and it flopped immediately over onto its back. While she scratched its belly, Abby searched its neck for a collar. There wasn’t one.

  “What's your name, cutie?”

  “Rudy,” a voice called. The dog leapt from her lap and darted towards it.

  Abby looked up to see a familiar face. She'd know those deep green eyes anywhere.

  “His name's Rudy,” he said. Confident, steady. “Abby, right?” The devilish grin he wore was enough to make her knees weak.

  “Yes.” Abby forced. Being both flattered and terrified. “I'm sorry, what was your name again?” A lie, she already knew, Eli, how could she forget? But she couldn't possibly let him know that. Or how much their previous meeting infiltrated her thoughts. Infecting her delicate emotions.

  He chuckled. “Eli,” he said, and then offered his hand. She reached up and shook it. His grip was firm, but gentle. “I see you and Rudy have already met.”

  “Oh yeah, sorry about that. He's such a beautiful dog, and I used to have one growing up....” Abby shook her head to focus. She didn't need to tell this man anything from her past. Much less something from her childhood. He was probably just being polite, or patronizing, even—or he was crazy, or a psychopath, or—

  “No need to explain. Rudy loves strangers. Though I have to admit, I've never seen him so fond of someone he just met before.” Eli went over to Rudy, and placed his hand on the dog's head. “Might sound strange, but he can usually sense those in need of a little companionship. Not saying that's you, but he was abused when he was little, so he knows how important it is to be there for people who might get overlooked.” He started rubbing the top of the dog’s head. “That's how me and him met. He knew I needed someone, and I figured he did too. We've been inseparable ever since.”

  Abby had always had a sweet spot for animals, especially dogs, but the fact that Rudy sensed weakness in her filled her with terror, as though she’d been exposed. She put her hand over her hip.

  “So what brings you out here?” A stupid question, but she needed to change the subject.

  “Just getting Rudy some fresh air. I like taking him here, though I'll admit I like it a whole lot more when it isn't so crowded.”

  Abby nodded. She could relate. She liked being alone too, but she’d learned a long time ago that there was safety in numbers. She smiled weakly, at a loss for what to say next.

  “How about you?” he continued. “Is seeing your gorgeous face going to start becoming a trend around here?”

  Oh no, another compliment. It stung in the weirdest possible way, like touching a raw nerve.

  She forced a faint laugh. “Maybe.” This time a real smile snuck beneath her lips, quietly, before she could stop it.

  Rudy, still pacing and wriggling with pent-up energy, began to bark.

  “Hush Rudy,” Eli barked back.

  Abby shook her head. “No it's okay, you take him. I was just about to head out anyway.” A lie.

  “You sure?” Eli asked, unmistakably disappointed.

  “Yeah, I need to head back to my grandmother. She's expecting me soon.”

  Another lie, and one that visibly disappointed Eli. She couldn't falter now, though. Abby stood up, dusting off her sweater. Molly was nowhere in sight—probably off proclaiming her vows to the surfer she’d met an hour ago. They could meet up later, though. Abby needed to leave. She began walking towards the road, and was halfway there when Eli called out to her.

  “When will I see you again?”

  “Tomorrow,” Abby said, and then nearly slapped her hand over her mouth. She had not meant to say that.

  “Perfect!” A huge grin came over his face. “I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

  Abby didn't trust herself to say anything more. She just smiled, and walked off. Rudy was still barking as she left. The sound of it reminded her of her little beagle, and that proved to be the final straw to a very taxing day. The floodgates opened. With all that had happened in the last few days, with all the memories that had surfaced again, she just couldn't help it anymore, and burst into tears. She cried the whole way back to Melody's, and slipped into the shower before her grandma could see her. The last thing she needed was for Melody to see her like this.

  Tomorrow, she thought. She lay her head against the porcelain wall, trying desperately to make sense of everything. It was no use. Eventually, she stopped trying, and did what she always did in times like this. She shut off. Shut off completely, so that she couldn't feel anything. Especially the hurt.

  Tomorrow... she thought.

  And then, nothing.

  Interlude two

  Six Months Ago.

  AS ABBY RUSHED TO LAY DOWN the hot casserole burning through the worn-out mitten, she heard the front door open. Loud footsteps echoed throughout the flimsy, hollow walls.

  “Hey sweetie! How was your day?” Abby called.

  No answer.

  “Tucker?”

  Still nothing.

  Something's wrong.

  Abby carefully made her way out of the kitchen towards the front door. As she approached, she saw it had been left wide open, and that there was no sign of her boyfriend. She closed the door, turning toward the hallway—but he was already there. All six feet of him, thin and lanky but far stronger than Abby. And he reeked of booze and body odor.

  But one of his hands was twitching; his nose was pink, and his eyes were restless. Alcohol was an afterthought to whatever was really coursing through his veins. She didn’t smell any marijuana, though—his usual drug of choice—which meant it was something else. Something worse.

  Suddenly, Abby was afraid.

  “Hey,” she managed. “Are you okay?”

  He smiled, but not joyfully. More like he had something bad planned, and was excited for it.

  “Fine, baby,” he said, wiping his nose. “Why don't you come here? I had a long day and I need you.”

  She'd never seen him like this before. When
he and Abby first met, he’d been so loving and tender towards her. Being there for her when her parents weren't. He was her rock, and she needed him.

  He'd previously admitted to her that he'd used drugs recreationally in the past, which eventually lead to experimentation with harder and harder stuff. Anything he could do to replicate that perfect high. However, after ODing and nearly dying, he’d vowed to quit forever, and assured Abby he had been sober for over two years. Abby hadn’t told her parents, but they’d disliked him regardless and, feeling they’d betrayed her, she began spending more and more time with Tucker. Not three months after she moved to Texas, Abby found out he was using again. She pleaded with him to stop, but he wouldn't. He said it was only for recreational use. That he could handle it. Saying he only needed it after really tough days, working construction in the hot Texas sun. Abby continued to encourage him, telling him he didn't need drugs, but after a heated confrontation, with him screaming and cussing in her face, she stopped her efforts completely. Out of fear. That should have been her first warning. A sign to run while she still had the chance. But she didn't.

  Abby knew something was wrong in their relationship, that she needed to leave. But she couldn't. She’d defied her parents; she’d left without so much as a goodbye. Instead, she began to lie to herself. It was just the drugs. If she could manage to keep Tucker sober, they could live their lives together, get married and have kids, the way they were supposed to. Everything she ever wanted. But it was all just wishful thinking, and Abby knew now that her suspended reality was about to come crashing down to earth.

  She didn't move.

  “Come here, I said!” He was trying to control his rapid breathing. “Abby, baby, I’m sorry, just—I don't want to yell at you, but please just... come here. I need you. I need all of you.”

  Was he implying what she thought he was?

  “It's alright sweetie” she said. “But, don't you want to eat first? I just made us a lovely dinner. Fresh out of the oven, even.” She forced a pleasant smile.

  “No. I want you. Now.”

  His focus. His lack of emotion. It was all overwhelming to Abby. She needed to think of something fast, or she'd be trapped.

  “Alright Tucky, but just let me freshen up in the bathroom really quick. I'm all sweaty from cooking dinner, and I don't want you to have to smell that.”

  She prayed he bought it.

  He looked around the floor of the room, as if mulling it over in his head. “Okay.” He finally said. “But hurry!”

  He looked twitchy and uncertain, as though he thought someone was watching him. Completely out of touch with reality, and stuck in his own twisted drug-induced world.

  “I will,” she said, as romantically as she could manage, and went back into the kitchen.

  She knew what she needed to do.

  She crept out the back of the kitchen, making her way towards the back door. She couldn't hear anything, but she knew he was there. She edged her way along the wall until it turned into the back hallway, which, although it wasn't visible from the living room, connected to it at the end. He would hear her opening the door. She would have to be quick. She slipped off her shoes. They'd only slow her down.

  Abby tried to control her breathing, hoping she wasn't making as much noise as she thought. But she couldn't wait any longer. If she missed this opportunity, she might never get another.

  Trembling, she poked her head slowly around the corner, but couldn't see anything.

  A little further... just a little... there.

  There was no one near the door that she could see, and before she could psych herself out of it, she ran for it. She reached for the handle and gave it a swift turn.

  It didn't budge.

  Her heart sank; her eyes widened. She hadn't locked this door, meaning someone else had. Meaning Tucker had. Meaning he’d known this might happen, and worse yet, expected it.

  Before she could do anything more she heard his rough voice coming from the living room to her left. “Abby.” It made her blood run cold.

  There he was. Standing. Preternaturally still... ready to pounce.

  The hands that used to comfort and make her feel safe now twitched by his sides.

  He shook his head.

  “Wrong choice.”

  Abby screamed.

  six

  ONCE ABBY HAD FINISHED HER SHOWER, and her crying, she and Melody worked on a puzzle, drinking tea while Abby told her what had happened at the beach. She mentioned Molly, and how she had still yet to hear from her since she departed with the surfer, but figured she'd be receiving a call from her soon.

  Then, Abby slipped. She let out that she’d run into Eli at the beach, and once she did, she had to confess the whole ordeal. Every heart-palpitating second of it, including her promise to come by the café tomorrow for lunch.

  Melody's eyes lit up at that, and nothing Abby said was any use. Melody had a very high opinion of Eli, but not for the same reasons as everyone else. She didn't care that people called him a hero, or that he was handsome; what she admired most was the way he’d treated his late wife, Hannah. Melody explained that they’d moved here about four years ago and bought the café, but that Hannah had been diagnosed with cancer shortly after, and passed less than a year later. Melody watched as he stayed by her side, day-by-day, caring for her as she withered away before him. He could have left. Could have made a new home for himself somewhere else. It would have been a lot easier. But he didn't. He’d stayed by her side until the very end.

  Abby swallowed hard. It was a lot to take in, especially after she had been so eager to get away from him earlier. But she still didn't know him. She wasn't looking for a relationship right now, and might not ever be again.

  But she would try to be a little less hostile and defensive around Eli, maybe try and get to know him a littler better. Maybe even become friends. She would definitely like to spend more time with his dog. But friends was as far as they would go. She couldn’t allow it to go any further.

  * * * * *

  Minutes after Abby’s head hit the pillow, the phone rang. Of course it was Molly. She’d always had perfect timing. Abby spent the next hour letting Molly talk her ear off about Eric, the surfer she’d run off with, about how she’d finally found the one. Abby was as excited as she could be when she was half asleep. But once Molly finally hung up, Abby found that her thoughts stayed on the conversation. What was it like to be that naïve? The one. Who knew how long Molly and Eric would even last. A week? A month? A year? Who knew, maybe he was the one. Abby’s gut told her that the relationship was a stupid influx of hormones, but what did she know?

  She decided not to overthink it and to just be happy for Molly. To be there for her. Whether that was to help her through a tough break up, or to be maid of honor at Molly’s wedding.

  Finally, sleep overcame her.

  * * * * *

  When she awoke the next morning to an angry alarm clock, her eyes told her she hadn't had enough sleep, and her body agreed. Then she remembered she started work today for Chuck, and needed to be there by 7:00 AM.

  The weather outside didn't look nearly as wonderful as the day before, so she put on a sweater, just in case. She brewed herself a cup of coffee, and was out the door before Melody was even up.

  Outside, the clouds had rolled in pale grey, bringing gloom to the town like a billowing fog. The temperature had dropped significantly, as Abby had predicted from a quick glance out the window, so she wrapped herself tightly into her sweater. Chuck's Bait and Tackle shop was on the water, but only about a mile away from Melody's. All downhill, so it would only take about fifteen minutes or so if she kept up the pace.

  She made it in thirteen. Partly because she wanted to make a good impression, but also because it was cold out, and the brisk wind drove air between the stitches of her cheaply made sweater.

  Chuck wasted no time in putting her to work preparing bait for the tourists and local fisherman. Though the smell was foul, Abby wasn
't squeamish. She didn't love it, but it would earn her money and she was determined to make the best of it. Chuck was friendly, cracking jokes Abby wouldn’t ever think of repeating. She enjoyed the man's company, and his upbeat personality. His earnest passion for life and people was infectious, and it was easy to see why he had so much business. She was even caught off guard when Chuck told her it was lunchtime, and that she could wash up in the bathroom before she left. She had lost all sense of time, and immediately became flustered as she cleaned her hands, and attempted to scrub the fish smell from her body. It was no use. She figured people in this town would be used to it, plus she really had no other choice.

  “I’ll be back in an hour,” she said, patting her hands dry as she came out.

  Chuck lifted a hand in farewell. “Take all the time you need.”

  Abby smiled. Though flattered by his generosity, she really had no intention of spending more time with Eli than she had to. He still made her nervous, whether it was rational or not. She would be back in an hour.

  * * * * *

  Eli checked his watch for the third time in the past ten minutes. On edge with anticipation. The watch read 12:07. He thought she'd have been here by now. He’d been struggling to get her out of his head all day.

  He and Ricky had been working since 9:00 AM, Ricky handling the grill and fryers, Eli the counter. It had been a slow morning, but picked up for lunchtime. Most of the tables were filled, and Eli feared there wouldn't be one for Abby to sit down at. He’d noticed as she left him at the beach yesterday that she walked with a slight limp. He didn't want her to have to wait to eat. She might just decide to leave.

  As soon as one of the smaller tables was vacant, he cleaned it off, and put down a sign that said ‘wet paint’, crafted with a sharpie moments before. The toxic smell was still fresh on the cardboard.

  Ricky laughed, and told him he was losing it. Maybe he was.

 

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