by Kait Nolan
And he remembered like it was yesterday. “There is no statute of limitations on an ass kicking for striking a woman.”
Everyone started talking at once, shouting in outrage, making demands. Obviously, that was a detail her close-knit family hadn’t known. Sandy just closed her eyes and turned away from him, stepping away from his touch.
It felt like a slap, another rejection of his protection and his right to look out for her.
A piercing whistle cut through the clamor. Norah. “Let’s everybody calm down.”
“I will calm down when someone explains what the hell is going on.” Pete turned a glare on Trey. “There is clearly more to your relationship with my sister than either of you have let on.”
If only you knew.
Trey stayed silent, leaving Sandy to answer.
But it was Norah who fielded the question. “They went to college together.” She looked at Trey, apologetic. “I figured it out months ago.”
It didn’t surprise him. She was an exceptionally smart woman, and there couldn’t have been that many married college freshmen from Wishful at Ole Miss at that time. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
She shrugged. “I figured if you wanted to reconnect, you would. Took you long enough.”
He wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole.
“In the version of the story you told me, you said her husband had never been violent.” There was censure in Norah’s tone.
“I left quite a few details out of the version you heard.” And Sandy had always insisted Waylan wasn’t violent, despite evidence to the contrary.
“I’m sorry, why am I just now hearing about this?” Cam demanded, staring at his bride.
“It wasn’t my story to tell.”
“Wait, so you two were…involved in college?” Liz asked carefully.
Sandy scooped a hand through her thick blonde hair. “We were friends. That was all.”
“Friends,” Trey repeated, incredulous. She’d just reduced everything between them to nothing more than friendship. Had all the hours of confidences, the countless shirts she’d soaked with her tears, the unquestioning and unflagging support meant so little?
“I wasn’t unfaithful,” she said evenly. “Not even when I decided to leave Waylan.”
“Because he hit you?” Helen’s voice trembled on the question.
“No. Not directly. He was an unmitigated ass when he was a freshman pledge. Drank and partied too much. We fought about it often, and Trey was my confidant.”
Trey picked up the thread. “Joseph—Norah’s father—was president of his fraternity. So, I went to him to tell him to get his pledge in line. He just said it wasn’t his place to interfere in someone’s marriage, and told me I’d do well to remember the same.”
Sandy’s gaze shot to his. “You went to Joseph?”
“Since you forbade me from going after Waylan directly, I had to do something.”
“That must be what set him off,” she murmured.
“What?” Trey’s hands curled into fists, a sick feeling setting up in his gut. Had he been the one who’d indirectly caused the fight where she’d gotten hurt?
“He came home furious, saying he’d gotten in trouble with the fraternity for his behavior. He was just doing what the rest of his pledge class was doing, so why had he been singled out? He was pacing the apartment, ranting whatever his justification of the week was, and I happened to be too close when he turned around. He always used to talk with his hands, and he caught me across the cheek.” She folded her arms, defensive. “It was an accident. I know you never believed that, but I swear it’s true. He never laid a hand on me again after that one time.”
“How about we circle back to the part where you were leaving him,” Jimmy suggested. “Clearly that didn’t happen. Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
“Then why?” Pete demanded. “You know we’d have supported you dumping his ass.”
Maybe Trey should’ve gone to talk to her brothers all those years ago. It seemed like they’d have absolutely been on the same page.
“Because of Cam,” Norah said.
Sandy stared at her. “How did you…?”
“Clever girl,” Trey murmured.
“You told me you’d planned to get her away after the semester was over. I did the math.” She shifted her attention to Sandy. “You’d have been six or eight weeks along by then.”
“You stayed in that hell, gave up a chance at another life, because of me?” Cam’s voice was dull with shock.
Sandy took Cam by the arms. “Don’t you dare blame yourself, Campbell. You are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I have no regrets.”
Trey wished he could say the same. But he was too busy remembering every time she’d called him off, talked him down from giving Waylan the beat down he deserved. She hadn’t let him stand for her then. Maybe she’d justified it at the time because it had been Waylan’s ring on her finger. But it was Trey’s she carried now.
“Accident or no, if you think I’m letting him get within fifteen feet of you, you’re sadly mistaken.”
Sandy whirled on him, and the stubborn set to her chin was so fucking familiar. “It’s not your fight. It never was.”
“The hell it’s not.” She was his wife, for God’s sake. His to protect. “I should’ve broken him in half the first time he made you cry.”
“I am not some naive, defenseless, damsel in distress. When are you all going to get it through your heads that I can run my own life?”
“That’s not the point!” he thundered. “I want to stand for you. I’ve always wanted to stand for you, and every goddamned time you pull me back.”
“I don’t need you to ride in like some knight on a charger to come to my rescue. I don’t want that from you.”
I don’t need you. I don’t want you. The blows landed, a quick one-two punch that pushed Trey over the edge. It was just like college all over again. He shook his head as realization sank into him. This was never going to change. She was never going to change.
He blew out a breath, striving for a calm he didn’t feel. “If that’s what you think I’m doing, then you don’t know me at all. And that tells me everything I need to know.”
Needing to escape, he turned toward the door. “You were right when you said this could never work. But not for any of the reasons you thought. It takes two people to make a relationship work, Sandra. And you’re clearly not really in this one.”
The blood drained from her face. “Trey, I—”
He lifted a hand to ward off whatever excuse she was about to offer. “Just save it. I’ll see myself out.”
And without another word or a backward glance, he walked away from his wife.
~*~
Sandy made it to the Mudcat not long before closing. It had taken far too long to wade through the shitstorm Trey had left in his wake. There had been a multitude of reasons she’d never told her family about anything that had happened in college, and every single one of them had played out tonight. Damn Trey. She was exhausted, heartsick, and still furious by the time she strode up to the bar.
Adele took one look at her and groaned. “Aw hell. Joe, take over.”
Without a word, Sandy followed her back to the office.
Adele shut the door and crossed her arms. “What happened?”
Too restless to sit, Sandy paced the tiny space. “I am this close to asking you to pull out Bob the Bastard, so I can execute the Three Furies on every man in my life.”
Adele lifted a brow. “Somehow I don’t think a trio of shots and throwing darts at our resident voodoo doll is going to fix what’s ailing you. Tell me what happened.”
“Waylan. It’s always Waylan. He’s like an infection that keeps coming back at the most inopportune times.”
“The bastard is bothering you again? Let me close up. I’ll get my shotgun.”
Sandy blew out an exasperated breath. “You’re not helping. I haven’t even seen him. But Pete did
, and he came over to Mom’s tonight, where the entire family and Trey were waiting on dessert.” Sandy filled her in. “The lot of them were like a lynch mob.”
“Point me to the nearest pitch fork.”
“What is it with everyone who knows me wanting to string him up by the balls?”
Adele gave her a flat stare. “Um, because he hurt you, left you near to destitute, and it’s no less than he deserves?”
“But don’t any of you understand? He’s not worth the upset. He is not worth making a fuss or a scene over. Because it plays into his ego. It makes him feel important, like he’s still relevant to my life, when he’s not. Apathy is my greatest weapon against him.” It had bought her four years last time. Maybe this time it would buy her more.
“You’ll have to forgive the rest of us for not being as evolved as you. What did Trey say to all of this?”
“He’s just as angry now as he was in college.” And how could that be? How could those emotions have continued to fester after all this time? “He pulled this whole He-Man routine that’s completely ridiculous.” She looked to her friend for support but found disapproval instead.
“Put yourself in his shoes, Sandy. A girl you like, one you come to love, uses you as a confidant, talks about her shitty marriage, gets hit by the asshole—accident or not. A real man—a man of integrity and principles—doesn’t stand aside and just let it happen.”
“Oh, please.”
“I’m serious. This is one of those Mars-Venus things. Women can just gripe about things and listen. We get the importance of venting and understand that the telling of problems does not mean we’re expected to fix them. But men aren’t like that. Men hear a problem and they try to do something about it.”
Sandy speared both hands into her hair and tugged in frustration. “There’s nothing to fix. Waylan is no threat.”
“He’s a man who was, at the very least, emotionally abusive to you. A man you continually protected at the expense of yourself, when a ready defender was at hand. And now you’ve married that defender and have told him he doesn’t have the right to be that to you. I don’t blame Trey for being pissed. It’s a fucking slap in his face.”
“That’s not what I said!”
“Subtext, sugar. I guarantee that’s what he heard.”
Before she could reply, a knock came on the office door. Adele tugged it open to reveal Pete.
“Thought you might be here.” Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside. “Give us a few minutes, Adele?”
“Take all the time you want. I need to start close up.” She left, shutting the door behind her.
Sandy scowled at her brother. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to talk. But you do have to listen.”
“To what, Pete? More reminders about how I should have dumped Waylan sooner? How I should have let the family help? Or how I should have left him even though I was pregnant? Forgive me if I’m sick of having my life choices thrown back in my face as the wrong ones.”
He went brows up. “Is that really what you think we’re saying?”
“All I have ever felt from y’all on the subject is your disapproval for how I handled things.”
He had the grace to look chagrined. “That wasn’t our intention. Ever. We just…want him to pay more than he has.”
“Your way wouldn’t make him pay. It wouldn’t bring any kind of restitution or remorse. It would just make things worse for me. I’ve endured enough gossip because of Waylan. I have paid for the mistakes of that marriage a hundred times over, and going after him the way y’all want to do is just going to create a spectacle that will drag it all back to light again. I’m tired of it.” The embarrassment of being in the public eye for scandal again was worse than almost anything she’d endured being married to Waylan.
“We just want to protect you.”
“You all keep saying that, like it makes everything okay.” Didn’t they understand how much of an insult it was? “I don’t need protecting. I protected myself and my son perfectly well for years. In case you all missed the memo, I am a strong, independent woman, who was a successful single mother, a respected public school administrator, and who now runs an entire damned town.”
“We’re not questioning your capabilities.”
“Aren’t you? The fact is, your desire to attack Waylan isn’t about me.”
“And what is it about?”
“Your own guilt for the fact that you weren’t there. You didn’t see and didn’t act when you think you should have. You’re my big brother. You look at what I went through and think you should’ve done something.”
Pete’s hands curled into fists. “Okay. I’ll admit there’s truth to that. It kills me that I can’t go back in time and change what happened. But it’s only because I love you, and I hate what that bastard did to you.”
“Well, so do I. But Jesus, Pete, if this was really about me, you’d let it go, like I have. Because that’s what I want. That’s what I need.”
Her brother fell silent, clearly weighing his words. “All right. I’ll do my best. And I’ll talk to the others about the same.”
Sandy blew out a long breath. “Thank you.”
“The rest of us aren’t as even-tempered as you. You’re always the calm lake.” He turned to her. “Except for tonight. Except with this Peyton guy.”
“Your point?”
“We Campbells only really lose our tempers over those we care about.”
Unbearably weary, she dropped onto the loveseat. “What do you want me to say?”
“Do you love him?”
“I loved him enough thirty years ago that I was going to walk away from my husband.”
“And now?”
She thought of the resignation in his eyes as he’d turned away from her and walked out and felt fresh cracks open in her heart. “After tonight, I’m not sure that it matters.”
“He wants to stand for you. Why don’t you give him a chance?”
“Because I don’t want someone to stand for me, Pete. I want someone to stand with me. And I don’t know if he’s capable of doing that.”
Chapter 10
Sandy didn’t come to him. Trey didn’t realize how much he’d expected her to show up and talk through things until the night went by and she didn’t darken his door. He was still at his desk, looking out at the green as the sky began to lighten with dawn.
What did that mean? Was she still angry? Had they just retreated to their corners? Or were they really through?
He hadn’t wanted to listen. Not with her entire family looking on. Having an audience while she explained why he wasn’t worthy was more than he could endure. But he’d really believed she would come to him, if only to try and dissolve things completely. Maybe it was good that she hadn’t. In his hurt and anger, he might have let her.
Trey was still furious. She’d said she wanted more than a part-time relationship. Well, he wanted a marriage that was more than name only. He wanted her to trust him, to rely on him. He wanted her to need him. Maybe he’d been kidding himself that they ever stood a shot. She hadn’t been willing to share the load at nineteen, and she was no more prepared to do so now. Really, he was a fool to have expected otherwise.
Sandra Campbell Crawford didn’t need him. She didn’t need anybody. The question was, did he love her enough to live with that?
She deserved everything. She said she wanted everything, but she didn’t. Or maybe she didn’t know what everything really was.
It wasn’t a decision he’d be making until he’d calmed down and had time to think, to sleep. As neither of those things would be happening any time soon, he spent some time catching up on details of the London project, answering email from Tess, who’d hit the ground running and taken the reins as if she’d been born to them. He supposed she had been. She was his daughter, after all. The precious baby girl he’d never have had if Sandy was anyone other than who she was.
But it wasn’t the past he was still angry about. It was the now. Checking the time, he shifted focus for the meeting he’d arranged last night.
Waylan wasn’t staying at The Babylon. Trey hadn’t really expected he would be. If money were truly his motive, the boutique hotel was hardly the budget-friendly option. But he wasn’t registered at the Mockingbird Motel, either. Trey had checked as soon as he left Helen’s house. That left the B & B or somewhere else. Before the end of the day, he’d know a helluva lot more than where the bastard was staying. He just wasn’t certain what he’d do with the information.
The intercom buzzed. “Mr. Kane to see you, sir.”
“Send him in.” Trey rose and circled his desk as the office door opened.
A barrel-chested man with a curiously silent walk strode past Louis, a to-go cup of coffee from The Daily Grind in his hand. If Louis had any opinion about the fact that Trey had called the former spook in, he kept it to himself and shut the door.
Kane crossed over and offered his hand. “Mr. Peyton. A pleasure, as always.”
“Thank you for coming so quickly.”
The man had been out of the country when Trey called the night before. He had no idea which country and hadn’t asked. Those were the sorts of details Kane chose not to share and Trey knew better than to ask.
Kane settled into a chair. “What can I do for you, sir?”
Trey hesitated. He was crossing a line here—one he’d deliberately avoided for three decades. Sandy wouldn’t thank him for his interference. But deep in his gut, he knew something was wrong with the entire situation with Waylan. Protecting her was the most important thing, whether she appreciated it or not.
“Standard NDAs apply?”
Kane inclined his head. “Of course. Who’s the target?”
“Waylan Crawford. White male, forty-nine, about six feet tall. Formerly married to one Sandra Campbell Crawford, current mayor of Wishful. They divorced about eighteen years ago. I can provide you with a very, very old address. I don’t know where he’s based now, but as of last night, he was here in Wishful.”
“Anything in particular you want to know?”
“Everything. Financials, known associates, job history. I want to know everything this son of a bitch has been up to for the past thirty years.”
