If I Could I'd Wish It All Away (I Wish Book 1)

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If I Could I'd Wish It All Away (I Wish Book 1) Page 28

by Lisa Helen Gray


  “Why?” she asks, seeming dumbfounded.

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t accept this as a gift. And if you’re anything like Brooke and me, then you’ll want to achieve this on your own. You’ll want it to be all yours. There’s no shame in accepting help, Pagan. If you had gone to a bank to start up, then you’d have to pay back the loan with more interest. You won’t―”

  Pagan charges into me, knocking the breath out of me. Her arms wrap around my neck and pull me in for a hug, squeezing tightly until I’m wheezing for air.

  “Thank you,” she whispers, her tears falling on my bare shoulder. “All of you… just… thank you.”

  “It’s our pleasure.” I grin, pulling away.

  “I don’t even know what to say. Thank you seems insufficient compared to what you’ve done. It’s not enough. I feel like there’s more I should be saying or doing. It’s just… God, this feels like a dream. I’m so overwhelmed right now,” she says, wiping under her eyes.

  “I know exactly how you’re feeling,” Brooke says before clearing her throat, and I turn, finding her wiping her own tears away. “She can be really pushy,” she says seriously, but her face is full of amusement.

  Pagan sputters, laughing before bringing me in for another hug. When we pull apart, an idea occurs to me.

  “We should go out and celebrate,” I suggest.

  “Oh, we could go to The Cavery Inn. Their food is amazing,” Brooke moans, making us laugh.

  “My treat. To say thank you,” Pagan states.

  “Let’s go, then.” I grin before stopping abruptly. “I forgot, these belong to you,” I tell Pagan, dropping a set of keys into her palm.

  She holds the keys, her hands shaking. She doesn’t even blink as she stares down at them. I’m worried she’s gone into shock because she’s completely frozen, but then her face scrunches up before she abruptly bursts into tears.

  *** *** ***

  “I don’t think we should’ve had that third bottle of wine.” I giggle, nearly tripping over my own feet.

  The girls giggle at me, trying to hold me up as we enter the bar/club called RJ’s.

  I still can’t believe I let them talk me into getting drunk tonight. Everything was going fine until they broke out the wine. After the third glass, I’d already begun to feel lightheaded. I’ve never gotten drunk before, and I swear the room keeps spinning―or am I the one spinning? I don’t know. All I know is that I feel like I’m on cloud nine. My entire body is buzzing, and a new-found confidence flows within me.

  “You’re not spinning,” Pagan laughs.

  Shit, I said that out loud.

  “Yeah, you did,” Brooke calls over Shakira’s top hit, ‘Hips Don’t Lie’.

  I groan and lean against the bar. I’m literally squished between the both of them as Pagan goes to order shots. As soon as I hear the word tequila, vomit threatens to rise.

  “No, I’ll be sick,” I moan, my stomach turning. Pagan laughs and orders water for me instead, and I smile, swaying as I give her thumbs-up. I may have stuck my middle finger up at her, I’m not sure. I’m too drunk. “God, I’m so drunk,” I whine as we make our way over to a table.

  “Me too,” Brooke slurs before taking a sip of her wine.

  “Me three,” Pagan cheers. “I’m opening up my own business,” she sing-songs.

  We all laugh, and I take in the bar for the first time. It’s an upscale place near the town centre. Pagan said it’s a normal bar in the day, but at night, it’s a little of both, playing club music and sometimes live bands. You can’t wear casual clothes to enter either; the dress code strict. I’m glad I decided to go for heels when I woke up this morning instead of my usual dolly shoes.

  The furniture is black, or maybe a dark blue? It’s hard to tell. The floor is glittery marble, and it shines beautifully against the disco lights.

  Hanging from the ceiling are mini chandeliers, each directly over a table. Everything in here looks new. If I owned this, I’d be scared to open it to drunken patrons. The owner is either brave or straight-up crazy.

  The song changes to Jennifer Lopez and Pitball’s, ‘Tonight’ and Pagan starts squealing, jumping up and down while throwing her hands in the air. Grabbing onto Brooke and me, she drags us to the dance floor, and I groan. I cannot dance to save my life. A monkey in the zoo has better moves than me. But the second Pagan starts. I don’t care anymore. She dances like she has Tourette’s or is being attacked by mosquitoes. It almost puts me to shame, and I throw my head back, laughing. I don’t hold back when I join her, and neither does Brooke. We all dance like we’ve just escaped D-block and enjoy every single minute of it.

  We’re into the sixth song when I suddenly feel cold all over, despite the fact I’m covered in sweat. The hairs on the back of my neck bristle and my legs turn to lead.

  “Are you okay?” Brooke asks, seeming to notice the sudden tension in my body.

  “Um, yeah,” I tell her absently, searching my surroundings. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, and that gives me chills. The place is busier than when we first arrived so the sudden mood change could be because of that, but the sensation of someone watching me doesn’t go away.

  “You sure?” Pagan asks.

  “Yeah. I think I’m ready to home though. Is that okay?”

  “Me too. These shoes are killing me,” Brooke says, pointing to her high-heeled boots, nearly tipping over in the process.

  “Yeah, me three. Let me go to the little girls room, and we can go,” Pagan says swiftly before making her way through the crowd to the toilets.

  Brooke and I move away from other people dancing and head back over to our.

  Another cold chill runs down my spine, and again, I feel eyes watching me. Awareness sobers me a little, and as I scan the sea of faces of those around me, my heart rate picks up.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Brooke asks a couple minutes of watching me shift nervously.

  “No,” I tell her honestly. The sensation is starting to scare me and each time my skin burns, my heart skips a beat. “You know that feeling you get when you know someone is watching you?” I ask, still scanning the crowd of people. I still don’t see anything, but it doesn’t stop me from looking.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve been feeling that for a while now, and it’s starting to really creep me out. I just want to go home,” I tell her, my voice trembling.

  “C’mon, let’s go and find Pagan. It shouldn’t take her this long to go the loo,” Brooke says, taking my hand.

  We get halfway across the room to the toilets when Pagan materialises out of nowhere. Her face is glowing, a smile splitting across her face as she walks up to us.

  “Did you fall down the loo? What took you so long?” Brooke asks, wobbling on her feet.

  “I’m going to ignore that comment. I’ve ordered two taxis for us, so don’t get your panties in a twist. I’ve just met the most charming man ever. He’s so gorgeous,” she gushes.

  “When did you meet him between wiping your doo-dah and flushing the loo?” I laugh when I realise how funny that sounded.

  We make our way through the club and step outside into the pouring rain, all three of us squealing and rushing under the hoot they’ve built for the smoking area.

  “We bumped into each other… okay, he bumped into me when I came out of the toilets. He’s so dreamy and so unlike any of the other men I’ve met in my life. They either act like dildos or are just plain immature,” she says.

  “Seriously? By any chance did he have a friend?” Brooke asks, slurring her words.

  “No.” Pagan giggles and Brooke groans in disappointment.

  A taxi pulls up, calling Brooke’s name. We say our goodbyes quickly before watching her run through the rain and into the taxi. We burst out laughing when she falls, sprawling over the back seat before getting up and giving us a sheepish grin, shutting the door.

  Just as the taxi drives away, ours pulls up.

  Sitting in the taxi
, I relax, no longer feeling those eyes burning into me. When I turn to Pagan, she’s smiling, grinning from ear to ear as she stares mindlessly out the window.

  “C’mon, tell us more about this mystery man. What does he look like?” I ask, because honestly, I’m surprised to see her acting like this over a man.

  Dean filled me in on her last relationship which ended badly last year. They’d been dating since they were fifteen, but last year, they broke up after a girl showed up on their doorstep pregnant.

  Sleaze bag.

  I was glad to hear Dean beat the ever-loving shit out of him. But still, he said Pagan hadn’t been serious about a man ever since. And all the dates she forces herself to go out on ends early with her making excuses.

  “My God, Lola. He was absolutely gorgeous. A bit older than me, but who cares?” She shrugs. “He has short-cropped brown hair, but long enough for me to run my fingers through it. He’s got a strong jaw line, full lips, and I swear, the scar at the corner of his top lip is so incredibly sexy. I could totally picture myself running my tongue over it,” she says, causing the taxi driver choke and to swerve the car a little to the right.

  Me? I freeze, coiled up so tight it’s almost painful.

  Rick has brown hair, but so do thousands of other men in the world. So I could be wrong. But Rick also has a scar on his top lip.

  He did it the time he threw a glass at me. It ended up hitting the wall and smashing, the glass ricocheting and cutting his lip.

  Seeming unaware of my sudden mood change, she carries on.

  “He asked for my number. He’s gonna call me,” she says, grinning excitedly.

  I force a smile as my brain tries to process everything. It can’t possibly be him. I mean, wouldn’t Dean or Grandpa know he was here? Needing to know more, I turn to Pagan.

  “What did you say his name was?” I ask, trying to hide the quiver in my voice but failing.

  “Oh, best part. He said, and I quote, ‘You’ll have to wait. It will add to the suspense for when we’ll see each other next. And we will. It’s only a matter of time.’ His voice was so husky.” She giggles, jumping in her seat as we pull up to the front entrance of Cabin Lake.

  A shiver runs up my spine at her words, feeling they were said directly to me by Rick himself.

  “You okay?” she asks when I don’t say anything and I turn to face her, nodding. Paying the taxi driver, we both get out and head over to Lily and Mark’s, where Pagan has been staying for the past year.

  “Thank you for such a good night,” I tell her. “I haven’t had that much fun in ages.”

  “Any time, and thank you,” she says, her face sobering, eyes softening. “What you’ve done is unbelievable generous and kind. It was sweet of you, so thank you,” she says, her eyes watering.

  “Any time.” I grin, throwing her words back at her.

  “You going to be okay getting back on your own?” she asks, shifting on her feet, and I giggle when I realise she needs to pee.

  “Yeah,” I tell her, giving her a brief hug before waving goodbye.

  I can’t wait to get back and shower. Dean said he wouldn’t be back until the early hours of the morning, so I’m glad I’ll have the chance to wash all of tonight’s sweat away.

  I haven’t spoken to him since this morning, and because of that, I’ve found myself missing him terribly.

  Rounding the corner, turning to the path where my cabin is, a shiver runs up my spine. The feel of a looming danger surfaces. The presence of someone lurking behind me has me pushing forward, pumping my legs to walk faster. Glancing behind me, I squeal. A lone figure looms in the shadows at the corner I just rounded.

  I start running, bloody pumping through my veins and I don’t stop, not even when my cabin comes into view.

  A twig snapping to my left has warning bells ringing in my head, and when I look over my shoulder, the shadowy figure is closer. My pulse quickens, sweat soaking my forehead and the back of my neck.

  When I finally reach my door something compels me to take another.

  I couldn’t have imagined that, could I?

  I keep scanning the area, trying to find the shadowy form; anything, really, to prove I’m not losing my mind. I’ve had a lot to drink, so that could be the reason my imagination is running wild and I’m seeing things that aren’t there.

  Jesus, it’s most likely some tenant having a fag outside their cabin. However, the eerie feeling of someone watching is still there, looming over me, and it’s unnerving.

  A piercing scream escapes me when two strong hands land on my shoulders. Sheer terror runs through me and I begin to shake uncontrollably.

  Stepping forward, I turn and end up tripping over my own feet. My eyes close, ready for the shooting pain to come, but when it doesn’t, I open my eyes and notice I’m in Dean’s arms.

  Dean!

  Relaxing, I giggle, feeling stupid for being scared in the first place.

  “I’m sorry,” I chuckle, feeling my face heat.

  “What was that about?” he asks, concern etched into his features, but then he pauses, looking me over and taking in my appearance. He leans in, sniffing the air close to my mouth and I move back, frowning. “Have you been drinking?” His lips twitch with amusement.

  “Just a little bit.” I giggle, holding my thumb and forefinger close together. “What are you doing back so early?”

  He takes my hand, pulling me into the front room and closing the door behind us. “I finished early to surprise you, but you weren’t here. I knew you were with Pagan and Brooke, but then Mom called asking if I wanted dinner, explaining you went out to celebrate,” he explains, guiding me into the bedroom.

  Gently, he starts removing my clothes. When he sets me on the soft mattress, I realise how tired I really am, and I yawn.

  “Now are you going to explain what had you so spooked outside?” he asks, kneeling in front of me.

  “It’s silly.” I shrug.

  “Try me.”

  He seems genuinely interested, and I find myself, telling him everything that happened at the club and outside. “So you see, I’m being silly, right?”

  He doesn’t look so convinced, and I run my finger along his frown lines, hating him being so worried.

  “Honestly, it was me being paranoid. I think outside had more to do with what Pagan said to me in the taxi,” I tell him absently.

  He’s grabbing one of his shirts for me to wear to bed when he turns around sharply, eyeing me curiously.

  “What did my sister say?” he asks, looking ready to throttle his sister.

  “She met some bloke at the club tonight and seemed really smitten over him so I asked her what he looked like….” I rattle off, pausing at the reminder.

  “Go on.”

  “It felt like she was describing Rick to me,” I whisper, picturing the scar. The same scar I stared at countless of times just so I didn’t have to look into those soulless black eyes of his.

  “Did you see him?” Dean asks loudly, and I realise he’d been talking to me. His body is strung tight, looking alert.

  “No,” I rush out, shaking my head. “Rick has a scar on his top lip, in the corner, and when she described the bloke she met having the same one, I thought it was him. But it’s not him, is it? I’m just drunk and being stupid.”

  I yawn, swaying on the bed as he pulls the shirt over my head, helping me pull my arms through.

  “I don’t know, baby. I’m going to go have a look around outside. Why don’t you get into bed and get some sleep? I’ll be back in a bit,” he says, but before he can step away, I take his hand in mine, stopping him.

  “Stay with me?” I yawn. “I don’t want to be on my own.”

  “Okay, love.”

  He picks me up, helping me to bed, but before he even gets in, my eyes are closed. The last thing I remember is curling up to him and feeling at home before falling into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 27

  Eight weeks later...

  The ti
me has come.

  Tomorrow is the grand opening of our stores, and I couldn’t be more excited. I’ve never been happier than I am right now.

  Dean is the cause for my blissful outlook on life right now. Having him and his family―my family―around me is another huge factor. I just wish my grandpa were here to see it.

  But Dean has been my saving grace. He’s helped me push all my worry and concerns aside and focus all my attention on life. And I have. Being with him is something else entirely; it’s magic in its purest form, and I couldn’t bear to live without him. He’s helped me through so much, and I’ll never forget that.

  I’ve been thinking about other women in my situation, some of whom are going or have gone through a lot worse than me. And knowing there are millions of other women out there encountering this kind of abuse has me wanting to help them.

  So I’ve offered the Women’s Aid group my shop for meetings, although we’ve yet to discuss a time or a day because we’ll need to work around each other’s schedules. I’ll need to know when to close my store for the hour the meetings take place.

  I’ve learnt so much about other victims and what they’ve been through. I even understand why some of them don’t leave. Like me, some are scared of the consequences if they’re caught. Some stay because they’ve been manipulated into distancing themselves and becoming secluded from their friends and family. Others stay because it’s the only think they know; it’s their norm, and they hold onto what they have, feeling like that’s their worth.

  If I could go back in time and give the younger, naive me, and many women like me, some advice, I’d tell us we were beautiful and worthy and remind each one of us that life only happens once and not to waste it on someone toxic. I’d tell them promises mean nothing and to only trust people’s actions because, after all, actions are worth more than a thousand promises.

  Sometimes in life you’re dealt with a shitty hand, but it’s what you make of it that’s important. We deserve a life filled with love and joy, not filled with fear and pain.

  “Are you okay?” Lorelei asks, snapping me out of my daydream.

 

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