by Rome, Ada
“I can’t let you win, Brinley. I can’t let you take from me what is mine.”
“And what is that? What have I taken that belongs to you? You can have the damn car. I don’t care. Just leave me alone. Let me be. Let me live my life in peace.”
He laughed quietly and shook his head. He stood and approached the counter again.
“You belong to me, Brinley,” he growled through clenched teeth. “You always will. I won’t let you walk away.” He pointed one thick finger at me. “You,” he shouted, “do not leave me.”
I tried to back out of his reach, but I was too late. He grabbed the collar of my dress in a fistful and hauled me over the counter like a rag doll. My knees smacked against the glass with two sharp cracks. My shins scraped bloodily along the metal edge. I tumbled to the floor in a heap, but he lifted me to my feet and slammed my back against an adjacent wall, holding me up by my throat. The force of his grip choked me. I scratched desperately at his knuckles, but his hold was like iron. He slammed me against the wall again. My head ricocheted painfully off the wooden molding. My toes skated helplessly along the floor, trying to gain traction. I couldn’t breathe. I closed my eyes, refusing to look at his face during what felt like the last seconds of my life. In a haze of declining consciousness, I heard the faint sound of tinkling bells.
His grip suddenly loosened. Air rushed into my lungs. I dropped to the floor and took several heaving breaths. A walloping thump of pounded flesh was followed by the heavy thud of a body falling on tile and the sounds of skittering shoes. I opened my eyes to a sight that I hardly believed.
Cayne stood shaking his fist. Granton was on the floor, backpedaling and trying to raise himself to a standing position. Cayne grabbed a handful of Granton’s shirt collar and punched him in the face with a thunderous force. Blood trickled from Granton’s lip. He wiped it with the back of his hand.
“Get the fuck out of here, or I will kill you,” Cayne said with a menacing snarl. He lifted Granton by his collar until they stood face to face. They were almost the same height, but Cayne clearly had a significant strength advantage. He tossed Granton across the floor with a vicious heave that sent him sprawling and cartwheeling.
Granton staggered to his feet and straightened his shirt, flicking away the blood that dripped from his chin. “This isn’t over,” he seethed.
“Last chance, asshole,” Cayne said with matter-of-fact sternness. “One more second and you’re fucking dead.”
Granton hesitated. He backed away a few steps, then turned and stormed angrily out through the front door.
Cayne ran and knelt beside me where I slumped against the wall.
“Are you alright? Brinley, look at me.” He cradled my face in his palm and held onto my hand. “I’m so sorry. Please tell me you’re alright.”
“How,” I tried to speak. My voice was raspy. I touched my fingers to my sore neck. “How did you know?” Tears burst forth and coursed down my cheeks.
“Shhhhh. Don’t try to talk.” Cayne hugged me to his chest and gently rubbed my back. “I didn’t know. I just kept thinking about our conversation this morning. It tortured me. I wasn’t ready to give up on us yet. I came here to talk to you. I had no idea he would hurt you, Brinley. I swear I had no idea.”
I sobbed onto his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears. I finally lifted my head and stared into his eyes. “This is the big secret I’ve been keeping.” My voice quivered. “He’s been doing this to me for seven years.” I paused and massaged my throat. “When I came back to Hallow River, I was running away from a nightmare. I was running for my life.”
Tears spilled over again. I rested my forehead against his shoulder.
“Shhhhh, baby. It’s going to be ok. Everything is going to be ok now. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Cayne, I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
He rubbed my back soothingly. “That doesn’t matter now. You have no reason to be sorry. Come on.” He slipped one arm around my back and another under my knees. He picked me up from the floor and cradled me. “Let me take you home.”
I nodded weakly. He retrieved my purse where I’d left it beside the register, carried me out to his truck, and set me softly in the passenger seat. Then he kissed me lightly on the lips and drove me home.
***
“I thought it would change the way you saw me,” I said softly.
Cayne and I lay awake on my little twin bed in the silence of deepest night. I had told my full story over the past several hours, no longer sparing any detail. I rested my head on his shoulder. He gently stroked wisps of hair away from my temple.
“What do you mean?” He pressed his lips lightly against my forehead.
“You had this perfect image of the old Brinley, the one with all the hope in the world, not a broken and battered shell. I couldn’t bear to ruin that image for you. At least, that’s what I told myself. Maybe the truth was that I was the one who couldn’t break away from the past. I wanted to be magically transformed into that girl from ten years ago and forget all of the horror that’s happened in between. When I looked into your eyes, it seemed possible.”
“I don’t want you to turn back into the Brinley from ten years ago any more than I want to turn back into the Cayne from ten years ago. We all have scars, some worse than others. I want you to be the person you are today, right now, in this moment.” He placed a finger under my chin and tilted my head up toward him. “That’s the person I love.” He kissed me. “I love you, Brinley.”
“I love you, Cayne.”
With the glow of moonlight peeking through the sheer curtains, we made love gently and quietly. He slipped my shorts delicately down my thighs and entered me, our hips rocking together in a slow, smooth rhythm. I wrapped my arms around his back, letting my finger slide down his tailbone. The warmth of his body pressing on top of mine felt safe and protective.
We moved as one, locked in a steady swell and fall like waves crashing on a beach. I moaned softly into his ear as he kissed my neck. We came together, both sliding effortlessly into a perfect surge and release with a breathy gasp and a light shiver. Then we drifted off to sleep in a tight embrace.
Chapter 12
“What’s this?”
My eyes blinked open in the bright morning sunlight and registered the scene. Cayne stood shirtless before the open closet, holding a jar that he’d plucked from a high shelf. The taut muscles in his back shifted as he turned toward me. A section of his tousled hair flipped rakishly over his forehead. His green eyes danced.
“Escape fund,” he read from the card taped to the jar. He cocked one eyebrow.
I stretched drowsily, raising my arms above my head and pointing my toes. My neck was still a bit sore, and I massaged it tenderly before I spoke.
“Just something from the old days. That jar once held all the money I earned teaching dance classes. It was my means of escape from Hallow River. It launched me into my great and storied career on the New York stage. We should save it for a future museum exhibit.”
My voice was tinged with sarcasm. Cayne just made a “hmph” sound and set the jar on the edge of the desk. He perched next to me on the bed, rubbing my leg under the quilt.
“So, what’s the plan?” he asked. “With Granton, I mean. Do you think he’ll leave town now that I’ve threatened to kill him?”
“I don’t,” I answered pensively. “I know Granton. He won’t give up that easily. In fact, he’s even angrier now. Anger makes him unpredictable.”
Cayne opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of creaking hinges. The bedroom door swung inward.
“Da-da?” Georgie stood on the threshold clutching his beloved green dragon. Cayne looked at me questioningly.
“Was I asleep longer than I thought?” he laughed.
“That’s Georgie, Garnet’s kid,” I explained. Georgie blinked his tired eyes and rested his chin between the dragon’s soft foamy
teeth.
“Hey, buddy.” Cayne waved Georgie over. “Let’s see what you’ve got here. A dragon, huh? He looks scary. What’s his name?”
“Pete,” Georgie declared with pride.
“Well, Pete is a good name for a dragon. It’s nice to meet you, Pete. My name is Cayne.”
He grasped one of the dragon’s claws like they were shaking hands. Georgie giggled and hugged the dragon to his chest.
“Tell you what. I’m hungry. Pete, are you hungry?” Cayne pinched his fingers over the dragon’s lower jaw and nodded the head up and down. “Pete’s hungry too. Shall we all go downstairs and see what’s for breakfast?”
Georgie erupted in a torrent of giggles as Cayne lifted him up and carried him from the room. I followed, smiling at Georgie’s uncontrollable laughter and Cayne’s obvious enjoyment.
We found Aunt Lu in her accustomed seat at the kitchen table. The ruffles of her nightgown, bright pink and patterned with oversized strawberries, fluttered in the breeze from a countertop fan. Her graying hair hung limp and wet over her shoulders. She lifted her head when we entered. Her expression seemed unmistakably tired, her eyelids heavy.
She already knew about Granton’s attack. We’d told her the full story after we returned from the diner around midnight. She hadn’t said much in response, but her pursed lips and flashing eyes were both furious and determined.
“Ma’am,” Cayne said with a nod in her direction. He deposited Georgie on the floor and pulled a seat out from the table for me. Aunt Lu patted his hand, a gesture that was both surprising and touching.
“Coffee’s still hot,” she said. “I just made it. Help yourself.”
Cayne poured us each a mug of steaming coffee and a bowl of cereal. I munched on the dry sugary rings one at a time. Anxiety squelched my appetite. I would not be able to relax until Granton left Hallow River for good. Unfortunately, I did not think that leaving town was in his immediate plans.
I heard a faint buzz from the far wall where my purse dangled from a set of key hooks. I rose and retrieved my phone from the front pocket. I spread my palm over the screen, unwilling to face any communications from Granton. Cayne pried the phone from my grip.
“It’s not him,” he said quickly. But as he read the text message, his eyebrows knit together and his eyes darted back and forth with concern. “Wait. This is about Cami. She didn’t show up at the diner this morning.”
He handed the phone to me. The text was from Mr. Pinkles.
Have you spoken to Cami? She didn’t come to work. That’s not like her. I tried calling, but no answer. Please help.
I was about to dial Cami’s number when my phone vibrated with an incoming call. The name on the screen almost made me toss the phone across the room like a live grenade. The call was from Granton. Cayne’s eyes met mine. I pressed the “accept” button and switched the phone to speaker mode.
“Hello?” I heard only the sound of rushing air on the other end. No one spoke for almost a full minute.
“Brinley?” said a frightened woman’s voice. It was Cami. I set the phone down on the table and placed a steadying hand on Cayne’s knee.
“Cami? What’s going on? Where are you?” I heard a rustling sound as someone covered the mouthpiece on the other end.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Granton’s voice came over the line sounding nauseatingly cheerful. “Did you sleep well? How is your knight in shining armor? Too bad he can’t protect all the women in his life.”
I glanced over at Cayne. His fists were clenched white. His eyes glowered with murderous intent.
“Let her go, Granton.” My voice shook beyond my control. “You have no reason to harm her. She has nothing to do with any of this. It’s between you and me.”
“Like I said before,” he continued as if I had not spoken, “such a nice town, such friendly folks. But you should really tell them to be a bit more wary of strangers. Miss Cami here was far too trusting when I spotted her walking to work this morning and offered her a ride. She thought I was an old friend of yours. You probably could have saved her if you’d told her the truth about me. But you didn’t. And now here she is. Such a shame to see a pretty girl so terribly afraid though. Can you hear her crying, Brinley? I wonder if there is anything I can do to comfort her.”
Cayne stood, his chair banging backwards.
“You fucking bastard,” he yelled. “If you touch a single hair on my sister’s head, I swear I will make you regret it.”
“Granton,” I said, trying to maintain my composure, “Why are you doing this? What is it that you want?”
“I already told you, dear.” His voice oozed cold menace. “I want what is mine. We’re going to make a trade. You come with me, and Cami goes free. If not, well, I have no idea what might happen to the poor girl.”
“Fine,” I said with determination. Cayne’s head swiveled, and his eyes locked on mine. I nodded to indicate that I knew what I was doing. “Where do you want me to meet you?”
“Auto shop. Ten o’clock tonight. Tell your boyfriend not to try any heroics this time, or things will end badly for everyone. Are we clear?”
The line clicked dead. We all stared at the screen as it went black. Aunt Lu grabbed Cayne’s clenched fist and my trembling hand across the table.
“Looks like we need a plan,” she said drily.
***
The air bristled with an ominous electric charge. Storm clouds blacked out the moon and stars. Lightning crackled in the distance. Thunder periodically boomed from afar.
My tennis shoes crunched noisily on the gravel driveway of the auto shop, which was dark and silent at this time of night. Fear pounded in my chest. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and walked slowly up the driveway, unable to see very far into the gloom. My own breathing sounded loud in my ears. I staggered on an uneven bit of gravel and heard a muted cry followed by the sound of scuffling and the click of a cocked pistol.
“Over here,” said Granton’s icy chill voice. I took a few more steps and saw him leaning on the fender of a black sedan. Cami stood next to him. He gripped her elbow tightly. Her mouth was covered with masking tape. She emitted small pleading noises, but Granton silenced her with a vigorous shake. As my eyes focused in the dark, I saw that he held a gun pointed into her ribs.
“Let her go, Granton. I’m here. You have what you want. Just let her go.”
“Brinley, my love.” He pulled the gun from Cami’s side and pointed it directly at me. I stopped in my tracks. “Get in the car.”
I hesitated, poised on my toes and staring into the barrel of the gun. Fat raindrops began to fall, landing with wet smacks on the gravel.
“Not so fast.” Cayne emerged from the shadows with a gun leveled at Granton. “No one is going anywhere. That is, no one except you.”
Granton grinned and laughed, his ivory teeth glinting in the darkness. Lightning knifed through the sky, momentarily illuminating the tense scene with a vivid blue sheen. Thunder crashed close overhead, reverberating like a metal sheet.
“Now, I thought I warned you not to get in my way. When will you learn to listen to your betters? I guess I’ll have to teach you.”
He swung the gun sideways in Cayne’s direction, but a sudden rustling amid the trees distracted his attention. Jasper materialized from between the branches, also holding a gun.
Cami began struggling, trying to break free from Granton’s grip. The thunder crashed louder, a crackling followed by a snapping boom that vibrated in my bones. The rain fell in sheets, sopping my clothes and puddling around my feet. As the last burst of thunder died away, I detected another sound from behind me. It was a revving engine.
I turned and saw a single blazing headlight. Streaks of lightning flashed. In the sudden electric glare, I witnessed a truly improbable vision. Aunt Lu zoomed up the driveway astride a motorcycle, the hem of her flowery housedress flapping up around her legs and a look of angry resolve on her face. She was headed straight for Granton.
The
headlight shone into his eyes, temporarily blinding him. He squinted and released his grip on Cami’s elbow, using his hand as a shield against the approaching glare. Cami scurried frantically toward Jasper, kicking up bits of wet gravel as her shoes slipped and skidded.
Cayne leapt toward Granton and punched him in the face. Granton staggered and waved his gun wildly. He aimed in the direction of the motorcycle and released a single shot. The motorcycle tipped and careened into the wall of the garage, throwing Aunt Lu clear. She lay in a lifeless heap on the driveway.
Cayne viciously slammed Granton’s head onto the hood of the car and punched him again with a mighty crack of splintering bone. Granton bellowed. His legs buckled. Cayne held his wrist and pried the gun from his fingers, sending it skating sideways out of reach. He threw Granton to the ground, smashing his head violently into the gravel and splashing his face into a black puddle of mud.
I ran over to Aunt Lu, my shoes slipping and sliding on the sodden terrain. Blood poured from her leg, but she was conscious. I pressed my hand firmly over the wound.
“You’re going to be fine. Just keep your eyes on me.” She nodded weakly, her blue eyes trained on mine.
I heard sirens approaching from the street and saw red and blue lights. A police car sped up the driveway and stopped a few feet away. An officer jumped from the vehicle and knelt beside Aunt Lu. He pressed a button on his radio and called for an ambulance.
“You’re a little late, Bobby,” Aunt Lu sputtered.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said with a tip of his cap. I immediately recognized him as Bobby Pemberton, one of the most notorious delinquents from my high school class. I held Aunt Lu’s hand and smoothed her wet hair out of her face.
Bobby walked over to where Cayne held Granton on the ground, pressing his knees into his shoulder blades and squeezing his wrists behind his back. Granton lifted and turned his face, now covered in thick gravelly mud.
“Thank God you’re here, officer,” he gasped. “These people attacked me.”
