Counting on Cayne (Hallow River Book 1)

by Rome, Ada

  I splashed some water on my face, dropped my phone into my pocket, took several deep breaths, and returned to the dining room. Cami spotted me and jogged over.

  “I have to get going. Paper due tomorrow. I always put these things off till the last minute.” She shrugged. “Oh well. I suppose it won’t be a masterpiece.” She chuckled and set her notepad and pencil on the counter. Are you all set?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I managed a thin, closed-lip smile. “Hey, could you do me a favor though? If you talk to Cayne, can you tell him that I need to speak with him?”

  “Absolutely.” The crease of worry reappeared between her brows. “Brinley, are you sure everything’s alright? You seem, I don’t know, out of sorts. Did something happen with Cayne?”

  That was a loaded question. Lots of things had happened with Cayne. I shook my head. “Everything’s fine. It’s nothing. Good luck with your paper.”

  Cami wrapped me in a sudden hug. The warmth of her body was reassuring. She trotted toward the door. Her bouncing skirt and lively hop reminded me of the little girl from dance class. With a final spirited wave, she was gone.

  ***

  The remaining hours of my shift passed nervously, with alternating bouts of panic and resolution. Each time fear threatened to overwhelm me, I reminded myself that Hallow River was my home. Granton had no power here. He did not own me. He could not control me. I would stand and face him, whatever the consequences. I would not retreat. I would not let him win.

  Customers came and went. Whenever the bells above the front door tinkled, my heart raced as I expected to see Granton sauntering through the entrance. He did not come. I presumed that he wanted to prolong my suspense for maximum effect.

  Just before 7:00, Justine arrived in a swirl of chatter. She wore bright emerald green eyeshadow and exaggerated cat’s eye liner.

  “Brinley! Just the gal I wanted to see,” she shouted as she crossed the floor toward me. “How goes it? Look, I know this is short notice, but I was really, really hoping you could do me a solid and switch shifts tomorrow. I’m driving out to the coast for the weekend, and it would be great to get an early start. I’ll work the afternoon, and you work the night. It’ll be great. The night is quiet anyway. Whaddaya say? I’ll make it up to you. I swear!” She fluttered her heavily coated lashes.

  “Yeah, that’s no problem.” My preoccupied brain was formulating responses without thinking.

  “Thank you!” she squealed. “You rock!” She hugged me. Her tiny body had the light-boned delicacy of a bird. “So, you outta here?”

  I checked the clock over the register. It was only minutes before 7:00. Cayne had not responded to the several texts I’d sent him over the course of the day. I’d tried calling, but he did not answer either. I had no idea whether he was still coming. With my car at the shop, I would have to walk home if he didn’t show.

  “I think I’ll stick around for a bit,” I told Justine. “I might as well have some dinner.”

  “Mmmmmm,” she rubbed her stomach in circles. “Go sit down. Meal’s on me. Will it be the rack of lamb or the roast duck?” She poised her pencil above her notepad and adopted a theatrical French accent.

  “Chicken sandwich, please.” I smiled weakly.

  “You got it,” she winked.

  I chose a booth by the window and faced the door. I texted Cayne one more time, hoping for a response. The seconds ticked away on the overhead clock.

  Justine brought my sandwich. I chewed slowly, barely tasting it. When the clock struck 8:00, I decided to give up on waiting. I collected my belongings and headed out into the gathering twilight.

  A few violet streaks still shone amid the clouds as I made my way through the mostly empty streets. Aunt Lu’s house was not far, and the shortest route would take me directly past Cayne’s shop. I needed to unburden myself to him, finally making the full disclosure that I should have made from the very beginning. I hoped that I wasn’t too late. His silence left me intensely worried.

  I heard voices and clinking dishes from the houses that I passed. My heart jumped a little every time a car approached. I hugged my arms around my waist and tried to shrink into myself. The darkness deepened, relieved only by the reflected light of a pale porcelain moon.

  When I rounded the corner of Primrose, I approached the auto shop with a full view of the gravel driveway. It was quiet but for a couple of voices that carried on the calm night air.

  One of them was Cayne. The other was Mindy.

  I stopped in my tracks, poised and listening. I was unable to make out the substance of their conversation. A trickle of giggles was followed by a deep bass laugh.

  Tears blurred my vision. I tried to blink them back, feeling nauseated and weak in the knees. I stood paralyzed with indecision, unsure if I should make my presence known or simply continue on my way. Another burst of giggles wafted through the night. The tears spilled hotly over my cheeks. I quickly crossed the street and ran home without looking back.

  Chapter 11

  My eyes opened to beams of early morning sunlight streaming through the thin white curtains over the bedroom window. My first instinct was to check my phone for messages. There were none. Granton was surprisingly quiet. Cayne was still ignoring me.

  I replayed in my mind the indistinct bits of laughter and conversation that I’d heard between Cayne and Mindy the night before. Was I reading too much into the situation? Maybe it was a completely innocent interaction that I’d irrationally twisted into something more sinister. Didn’t Cayne deserve the benefit of my trust? I resolved to go to the shop and see him right away, both to clear up the previous night’s events and to tell him the full story of my past with Granton.

  I hurriedly dressed in one of my old high school t-shirts and a pair of gym shorts, threw my hair into a messy ponytail, and scampered down the staircase. Aunt Lu sat at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and sipping coffee from a mug incongruously shaped like a set of cow udders. She looked up when I entered, the mug poised in midair. She cocked an eyebrow, a silent question in her gaze after she took in my disheveled appearance.

  “Granton is here in Hallow River,” I said simply. She nodded and sipped her coffee. “I haven’t seen him yet. He went to the diner looking for me. He also said he was going to talk to Cayne.”

  “What’s the story with you and Cayne?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

  I poured a splash of coffee into a mug painted with peacock feathers and plopped into one of the kitchen chairs with an exaggerated sigh. I tapped my fingernails thoughtfully against the sides of the mug. What exactly was the story with Cayne? Did I even know at this point?

  “We’ve been seeing each other.” This seemed like an insufficient description. We had been doing a lot more than seeing each other. It also did not adequately convey my deepening feelings.

  “Can you trust him? He has a bit of a reputation around town.”

  “I kind of suspected that.” I chucked half-heartedly. “The thing is, though, I’m not sure that I’ve given him enough reason to trust me.”

  In refusing to tell Cayne the real reason for my return to Hallow River, I had undermined the foundation of our newfound relationship before it even began.

  “What do you think Granton will do next?” Aunt Lu placed her mug on the table, folded her hands, and leaned toward me.

  “I don’t know,” I answered, looking distractedly around the kitchen. “He’s been off the radar since yesterday. If he knows about Cayne, that means he’s been watching me. He must also know that I’m living here. You need to be careful.”

  “Don’t worry about me. If that man comes here, I guarantee that he will regret it.” She shook her finger and sat up tall. Her severe expression was at odds with her cartoonish drinking vessel. I smiled at the contradiction in spite of my gloomy mood.

  “I’m not running from him anymore,” I declared with finality. Saying it aloud gave me an added sense of determination. “This is my home. I refuse to back down.”r />
  “Good.” She patted my hand where it rested on the table.

  I glanced through the window. The slightly parted curtains revealed something unexpected. My car was parked in front of the house.

  “Who dropped off the car? I left it at the shop yesterday.”

  Aunt Lu shrugged and shook her head. “It was here when I woke up this morning.”

  I burst through the front door and ran down the winding walk. I presumed that Cayne had returned the car, but I did not know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Was he angry? Was this his way of saying that he never wanted to see me again? Or was this a peace offering?

  As I approached, I spied a note taped to the steering wheel and tried the door. It was unlocked. The keys were in the ignition. I tore off the note, but my blood instantly ran cold. This was not Cayne’s blocky print. It was Granton’s curling script, and it said only one word.

  Gotcha.

  I crumpled the paper and tossed it into the gutter. Granton was playing games. He wanted me to fret and wring my hands with worry over his next possible move. The car and the note were designed to inform me that he had, in fact, been to the shop to see Cayne. I hopped into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. Then that’s exactly where I was headed too.

  ***

  The auto shop was relatively quiet when I arrived. I parked on the street and looked around for Cayne, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “Can I help you with something?” I jumped when I heard his voice over my left shoulder. He didn’t sound hostile, just cold and businesslike. I turned on my heel. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring down at me with an unreadable expression.

  “I need to talk to you,” I sputtered. “You didn’t answer my texts yesterday.”

  “Oh, now you need to talk to me?” He glanced at the few other mechanics loitering around the garage entrance. Then he pinched two fingers around my elbow and guided me down the drive and out onto the sidewalk. We walked for a minute until we were out of sight of the shop.

  “Look, Cayne, I ---”

  “No, you look, Brinley. I have a few things that I’d like to say to you.” His eyes flashed with anger. “Your fiancée came by here yesterday.” He drew out the syllables of the word “fiancée” and spat them out with venom.

  “Fiancée?” I asked in disbelief. I swallowed the lump of anxiety that was forming in my throat.

  “Granton Langley. Did you forget that you’re engaged? He already told me everything. You don’t have to pretend anymore.” He crossed his arms again and kicked the cement with the toe of his boot.

  “What did he say to you?” I tried to remain calm despite the slight tremor in my voice.

  “Just that you’ve been together for seven years. You live with him in New York City. Oh, and you two are getting married in October. At least, that was the plan until you ran away without a trace a few days ago. He’s been looking for you ever since. He only found you because of the inquiries I sent to the dealer network about your car. That’s why he came here first. The guy seemed frantic. He took the car. He owns it, after all.”

  Cayne shook his head with disgust and kicked the cement in frustration.

  I placed my hand on his forearm. “Hold on. It’s not---”

  “What the hell, Brinley?” He cut me short and nudged my hand away. “How could you not tell me all this? What kind of person are you?” He was practically shouting at this point.

  We both saw a head peek over a nearby row of shrubs and then dart quickly down again. Cayne’s eyes, normally sparkling with mischief and delight, now shone with a hurt fury. He lowered his voice and continued.

  “How could you not tell me that you’re engaged? Now I know why you were being so secretive. Why did you come back here? Was this all just a joke? Were you just having some fun with the country bumpkin before you go back to your rich husband in New York?” His voice cracked with emotion. “Was I just a joke to you?”

  “Cayne, it’s not what you think. Let me explain.”

  “No, you let me finish. I thought I knew you, but I was wrong, completely wrong. I thought I was falling in love with you. Now I feel like a fucking idiot. Ever since you got here, I’ve poured my heart out and put all my feelings on the table while you kept your secrets and avoided my questions. I’ve been nothing but honest with you, and you’ve done nothing but lie right to my face.”

  “Honest? You’ve been nothing but honest? Is that why Mindy was here with you last night? I heard you two at the shop.” My accusation sounded petty and spiteful. I immediately regretted it with a sinking heart.

  “You don’t know what you heard.” He shook his head and sighed. “Mindy came by when I was closing up. She tried to convince me to go out with her. I said no. End of story. When I told you to trust me yesterday, I meant it.” He sounded both offended and sad. I instinctively knew that he was telling the absolute truth.

  “Cayne, everything that Granton said to you is a lie. He is not my fiancée.”

  “Have you been with him for the past seven years? Do you live with him? Are you driving his car and wearing his jewelry?”

  “Yes, but there is more to it ---”

  “Enough, Brinley. It doesn’t matter now.” He paused and cleared his throat, looking up into the overhanging trees and then back down at me. “This was a mistake. We were a mistake.”

  Tears gathered in my eyes. I dropped my head and tried with difficulty to stop them from flowing. “Is that what you really think?”

  He didn’t answer. He just placed his hand on my shoulder and remained silent for a few seconds.

  “I have to go,” he finally said.

  I watched him walk away, his head bent forward and his hands in his pockets, until he rounded the corner of the driveway and disappeared from view.

  ***

  The diner was practically empty. Minutes ticked steadily toward 11:00pm. One lone trucker hunched over the last few bites of his apple pie before tipping his cap to me and departing, leaving behind a generous ten dollar tip. The humming coffee pot was the only sound to break the silence. I absent-mindedly stacked and re-stacked a pile of paper napkins.

  Part of me wanted to be angry with Cayne. The rest of me understood that I was in the wrong. He deserved better. My heart bled with the realization that I had caused him pain. I needed to make this right somehow. The thought of never seeing him again was a possibility too awful to contemplate.

  I squatted low to retrieve another stack of napkins from behind the counter when I heard the familiar tinkle of bells over the front door. Shoes clicked slowly over the linoleum, getting louder as they approached. When I stood, my world crashed to a halt. My mind went blank with fear. Granton stared back at me, grinning with malice from ear to ear.

  “Hi, honey.” He took one more measured step forward and rested his hands on the edge of the counter.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but the words stopped in my throat. I gasped for air. The napkins in my hand were soaked from contact with my sweaty palm. I gripped them tight to keep my fingers from shaking and looked around the room like a hunted animal, hoping by some miracle that we were not alone. The room was empty. The clock ticked loudly into the tense hush.

  “What are you doing here, Granton?” My voice sounded thin and wobbly.

  “Oh, come on, dear. Is that any way to treat your long lost fiancée?” He laughed heartily. “You should have seen the confusion on that poor boy’s face when I told him my sad, sad story. What’s his name again? Candy?”

  “His name is Cayne. Why did you tell him that?”

  “Why not? I guess I really enjoyed playing the jilted lover. It was a fine bit of acting, if I do say so myself. I think the dumb sap felt sorry for me.”

  He laughed and flashed a row of perfect white teeth. His eyes had the icy metallic sheen of gunmetal. Gray hairs sprinkled his temples. Lines creased around his eyes with each malevolent smile.

  “So, I presume you got my note this morning,�
� he continued, rapping his knuckles on the counter. His heavy ring clicked against the glass. “I thought it was a nice romantic touch, didn’t you?”

  “I’ll ask you again. What do you want from me?”

  “What do I want?” His smile vanished in an instant. His hand shot out with lightning speed and closed around my wrist before I even knew what was happening. His fingers squeezed tight, digging into my bones with a grinding force. My wrist felt like it was about to snap in two. He pulled me forward, my hip crashing painfully against the edge of the counter, and brought his face so close to mine that our noses were almost touching. The wintry scent of his cologne, a mixture of pine needles and ash, invaded my nostrils. His lips spread into another wide leer.

  “I just want to talk to you, baby cakes.” The words slithered from his mouth in a mock southern drawl. His fingers squeezed tighter. I collapsed forward with a shock of stabbing pain. He released his grip and let my hand bang limply onto the counter. A circle of red welts surrounded my wrist. He jutted his chin over to the wall of booths. “Let’s just have a little chat. What’s the harm in that?”

  I massaged the stinging skin on my wrist and watched him stroll over to an empty booth. He sat on the edge of the bench, his knees spread wide and his elbow resting casually on the table. He hooked one finger in the air and gestured for me to come closer. I stayed behind the counter.

  “Why can’t you let me go, Granton?” A pleading note entered my voice. I was trying in vain to appeal to a sympathetic side that I knew very well did not exist. “You’ve taken enough from me. Why do you want more?”

  He scratched at his smooth chin, his sapphire ring flashing in the overhead light. His expression was thoughtful, as if he were actually considering the nature of his interest in me and contemplating the reasons for his relentless pursuit.