Take a Chance on Me (Baymoor Book 3)

by D. A. Young

  “I’m pregnant, so count me out.” Eliza plopped down on the raspberry velvet settee and sipped her cup of decaffeinated ginger-lemon tea. “Me and my baby aren’t tangling with chickens today. No, ma’am! We just came to pick up my bridal trousseau. I’m good right here, yelling ‘stop, drop, and roll’.”

  Georgina tsked her loudly. “How do you sleep at night? That baby has sucked away all of your compassion and morals. I bet your twisted soul can easily be bought.”

  “Yup, and if the offer is tempting enough, you can stick a big fat ass bow on my forehead and gift wrap me as well.” Eliza waved her away with a big yawn. “Gurl, bye! Go on and save your bestie if you’re feeling bold enough.”

  Georgie mulled over the scene before her then offered to Fern, “Rock, paper, scissors?”

  Fern gaped at her boss in horror as if Georgina had just demanded she sacrifice her children. “I don’t even know that stranger! Besides, I’m not trying to lose flava by getting all up in that mix!” She raised an eyebrow at Georgina. “Isn’t she your Day1?!”

  Georgina glared at her while Eliza snickered. She treated them to a scathing look and squared her shoulders back. “In the words of the great Martin Luther King, ‘There is always time to do…’” Georgina’s shoulders dropped when she realized she couldn’t even sell it to herself. “Oh, hell, she’s perfectly fine! Look, she’s even waving at us!”

  The women observed Annabelle jumping up and down, waving both hands at them as the Spring Chickens squawked around her and more came from the outside. “Woah! They’re multiplying like gremlins. Hmmm…that could be misconstrued as an S.O.S. signal, but I’m sure that’s just Annabelle’s excitement.”

  Eliza craned her neck then slid further down on the settee. “I don’t think we should go over there and steal her limelight. This is her moment. It would be selfish of us to take it away from her.”

  “I agree!” Georgina shrugged her shoulders with a crestfallen face. “I guess we’ll just have to console ourselves with the knowledge that we’ll get another chance to shine with them.”

  “The two of you are unbelievable. And you’re right, fearless leader. It’s called karma,” Fern informed her sagely.

  “Hush!” Georgina scolded her. “Come on; let’s use this downtime to restock the shelves and cash wrap.”

  ***

  “Please believe I plan on getting all of you back!” Annabelle warned Eliza, Georgina, and Fern as she watched the seamstress package up her selections. Annabelle took a whiff of her clothing and winced. She was sure she was covered in every perfume spanning the last three decades. Day. Made. “I’m going to be just like that damned red balloon from “It” too, poppin’ up all over the place on the three of you!”

  “You should just look at it as a Baymoor initiation, “Pepe Le Pew”,” Georgina laughed in Annabelle’s face as she waved her hand before her nose furiously. “You smell like how I imagine a Disney villainess would! Cheer up; at least they didn’t make you an honorary member!”

  “Or rope you into a surprise strip show,” Eliza drawled, sharing a wicked look with Fern, who started giggling.

  “Gurl, just be thankful all you got was love from that crew! They could have hoodwinked you into something outrageous,” Fern’s eyes were filled with admiration. “I must say, you weathered that storm smoothly.”

  Feeling slightly mollified, Annabelle boasted, “I did, didn’t I? I know all their tricks, and they weren’t about to con me into anything! Although, I did agree to help them out with their fundraiser luncheon this Sunday after church since they asked so nicely.” She gathered her bags and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Thank you very much, ladies! I can’t say it’s been a real pleasure, but I will say I can’t wait for Graham to see me in this stuff!” Her eyes turned dreamy. “The way that man gets me going, and the things he can do with his…mmmph!”

  “Gaaaah!” Eliza cringed, covering her mouth while Georgina looked distinctly queasy. “Why is she saying stuff like that?! Doesn’t she realize that we’re related to him??”

  Seeing her chance to exact a little revenge, Annabelle kept going. Leaning forward with a conspiring look, she wiggled her eyebrows and added, “Just between us? In bed, I call your brother ‘Pyromaniac’ because he sets my body on fire every time he uses his—”

  “If I ever needed proof they were made for each other, this is it,” Georgina muttered, holding her stomach with one hand and the counter with the other. “Seriously; twice in one day! Damn you, A.B.! I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Annabelle smirked at them. “Karma be thy name. See you at the house, Georgie! Nice meeting you, Fern! Bye, Eliza!”

  They watched her walk out and then get into Max’s truck, honking the horn as she drove away. With a puzzled look, Fern asked no one in particular, “Does she not know the exact details of that fundraiser?”

  They looked at each other apprehensively before simultaneously saying, “Someone should tell her…”

  ***

  Annabelle was unsure of what motivated her to do it. Perhaps she just wanted to see for herself what Edith had promised she’d do when finally freed of Brenton’s hold. So, here she was, sitting in front of the old Fowler estate in Max’s truck, fingers tapping anxiously on the wheel as she debated her next move. Did she get out of the truck? Or was seeing the rubble through the window and gate truly enough for her? Feeling overwhelmed, Annabelle covered the steering wheel with her arms and laid her head on it. Anxiety was boiling in her stomach, and she struggled to control it as her breathing became labored and her teeth gnashed together.

  The memories were coming back, flashing so fast, Annabelle couldn’t block them all, and she was forced to relive the constant state of terror, frustration, and hopelessness she’d lived with, knowing how far the Fowlers reach went. Even in death, they were still trying to tie her to them.

  Despite sitting in the heated truck and dressed in layers, Annabelle felt chilled to the bone. A self-pep talk of sorts was needed to get her going. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. The generous cab of the truck was becoming more compact with every breath she managed to wheeze, and Annabelle felt dizzy. She tried to lift her head, but it was dead weight and she couldn’t hear anything above her frenzied heartbeat. Panic was creeping in, and she needed to escape. She felt around for the door handle, located it, and feebly pulled, but nothing happened. The cab felt like a raging furnace and her own private hell to forever suffer in.

  Sweat trickled from Annabelle’s forehead and slid down her nose. She watched one drop followed by another as if in slow motion to her jeans, leaving a spot that spread like the sickness Davis’s family was afflicted with. She needed to get out of this deathtrap! This time, when Annabelle yanked the on the car handle, it gave and she threw herself at the opening, inhaling large gulps of the crisp icy air, only to be snatched back making her scream with frustration. The goddamn seatbelt. Annabelle fumbled with the clasp and finally managed to undo it. She lurched again toward her freedom and would have fallen out of the truck onto her face if Wade hadn’t caught her.

  “Easy, Doc, I got you,” he assured her gruffly as he helped her out of the truck and propped her up against the side of it. Wade pulled one of the handkerchiefs that Camille insisted he carry at all times and handed it to Annabelle before reaching into the truck and turning it off. “What are you doing here?”

  Annabelle laughed shrilly as she wiped her face down, unable to meet his concerned blue eyes. “That’s a good question, Sheriff! Because what other prisoners do you know that go back to visit the place that tried to destroy them, right???” She twisted the handkerchief in her hands restlessly. “Do POWs go back to war camps? No! I’m the only genius orchestrating such a brilliant idea!”

  Wade leaned next to her, keeping his eyes on the well-groomed street that was finally back to its normal state of peace and quiet since Edith left. The town had been frenzied with speculation that refused to die down when Annabelle, then Davis, disappeared ou
t of the blue. But when Edith moved out of the estate that she’d lived in for thirty-four years and had it demolished, Baymoor lost its ever-lovin’ mind. Everyone from old to young had come to watch Gideon Green, Wade’s former high-school rival turned honorary uncle to Camille, and his family construction company, Grass is Greener, tear the place down.

  While Wade, Max, and Nate looked on, they’d listened with stoic faces to the rumors and assumptions around them. It still sickened Wade to his stomach to discover the horrors and atrocities that occurred behind the wrought-iron gates on his watch. “I don’t think anything other than you’re extremely brave, Annabelle. You made a choice in the midst of a terrifying situation, for the safety of both you and your child. To be honest, I’m ashamed of myself, and I owe you an apology.”

  She was puzzled. “Why would you owe me an apology, Wade? You didn’t do anything to me.”

  Wade’s raked his fingers through his dirty blonde hair as his face settled into a fierce expression of self-loathing. “The hell I didn’t! I love Baymoor as much as you do or any one of its residents. In a town like this, it’s fucking impossible to not grow up side-by-side and hide shit from your neighbors!”

  As his large hand swiped over his face and with eyes filled with sorrow, Wade explained himself. “As the sheriff, I should have seen what was happening to the town’s residents. It’s what I instruct my men to do. Get to know your neighbors. As your friend, I should have paid more attention. We all should have done more, but I was so caught up in excelling at bachelorhood that I couldn’t see what was so obviously in front of me.”

  “Don’t do this, Wade,” Annabelle argued, curls flying about as she adamantly shook her head. “You were never supposed to! It was my burden to be that great of an actress. In my own sick and twisted way, I was even proud of the fact that no one could see me falling apart.”

  “Jesus, Annabelle,” Wade bit out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, fighting to quell his rising anger. “You should know that I take my job very seriously, but I’m fucking looking the other way when Graham gets his hands on that sonofabitch.”

  Annabelle stewed over his words when suddenly something clicked. “How did you know I was here?”

  She counted three shades of red that Wade turned before sheepishly admitting, “Graham asked me to keep an eye out for you while he was at the inn. He should be just about done. I’m surprised that he hasn’t called you yet.”

  “He asked you to follow me?” Annabelle fumed. Hadn’t she just talked to his obstinate ass about this?

  Wade shuffled his boots and gave her a wide smile. “Cut the crap, Annabelle. Don’t look at this as a protection detail. You’re family. This is what we do for one another. Now, are we gonna stand here disputing facts all day or get you some much-needed closure?”

  Now that her attempted actions had a word, she wasn’t filled with dreaded trepidation. Closure. Annabelle straightened away from the car. “I think that’s exactly what I came here for. Let’s do it, Wade.”

  They walked the short distance to the gated entrance and stood before it. At last, Annabelle was able to survey the rubble and debris that remained of where the four thousand square ft. purgatory asylum had once stood. The pool house was also gone, as was the pool. The only thing that remained was a tree fort.

  “Do you know if Edith is going to rebuild here when she returns?” Wade asked with some curiosity.

  “She’s not rebuilding a home,” Annabelle spoke softly as she looked around, feeling unsettled. “Edith plans on knocking down the walls and making it a public park. She says it’s time for the sun to shine and drive out the darkness.”

  She’d seen enough. Despite everything being gone, Annabelle still felt the evil lingering behind the walls. The sooner her bonus mom set her plans in motion the better. “I think I’m good now, Wade. Thank you.”

  “So, where are you headed now?” Wade fished as he walked her back to the truck.

  “None of yours or my honey’s business,” she responded tartly as she opened the driver’s door. “Tell him I said that he and I are going to have words when I see him. Oh, and Wade?”

  “Yeah, Doc?”

  “Congratulations on your upcoming wedding. Eliza and Camille are wonderful, and you’re no slouch either,” Annabelle waved at him as she started the truck. “Don’t forget to tell Graham what I said.”

  “Thank you, Annabelle, and no, I won’t forget”, Wade chuckled then made sure she was safely on her way before using his walkie-talkie. “I’ve been made. Let Officer Baker know she’s headed west on Derby Avenue toward Main Street in Farmer Hayes’s truck. Baker’s in his own vehicle, correct Ida?”

  “Copy that, Sheriff. Yes, Ted is in his Ford-150. I’ll let him know to fall in line.”

  Wade pulled out his cell and dialed Graham.

  “Speak on it, fool.”

  Wade snorted at the greeting. “I’d rather be a fool than in the dog house like your ass. Got a message for you from Doc. She didn’t appreciate me tailing her and will be having words with your pussy-whupped ass when she sees you.”

  There was a moment of silence on the other end before Graham gave a bark of laughter. “I look forward to communicating with her. Thanks, man.”

  “That’s it? You’re not even going to comment on my name calling?” Wade couldn’t believe how unfazed Graham was about his name calling. His future brother-in-law never passed up an opportunity to give him or Max shit.

  “Ayyyee, man, there are worse things to be for a beautiful woman,” Graham said seriously. “Now, if you don’t mind, Daddy’s got more important things to do than school your rookie ass on the opposite sex, son.”

  “Bite me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  This time Annabelle knew exactly where she was going and why. She turned off Main Street and down Sycamore Drive where there was hardly any traffic and drove half a mile before pulling into an empty parking lot. There sat a small red and white store with a faded silver rocket logo shooting skyward on top of it. The blinking letters underneath it would have read Gas ‘N’ Go if the S and O hadn’t fallen off. The windows still displayed festive holiday paint even though Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

  Annabelle turned off the ignition and stiffened with steely resolve. Her parents’ betrayal that she’d never confronted them with was still a bitter pill to swallow. Annabelle needed the closure if they were going to live in the same town. Before she could open the truck door, the doors to the Gas ‘N’ Go slid open, and her father stepped out and their eyes met.

  Time stood still as they evaluated the changes the past few years had brought them. Annabelle’s father had always been neat and preppy-looking with a ready smile that sparkled and was accentuated by the sable complexion he shared with his daughter. The saying ‘black don’t crack’ did not apply to Thomas, who appeared to have aged twenty years since Annabelle had last seen him. He was grizzled like a wild man. Thomas’s normally neat-trimmed low fade had grown into an afro streaked heavily with white, and his clean-shaven jaw was now covered by a long, unruly beard that reached mid chest on the denim overalls now covering his gaunt six-foot frame. His bloodshot eyes were wide with astonishment to see her, but he blinked and it was interchanged with some unreadable emotion that burned brightly in his otherwise dull and lifeless eyes.

  Annabelle waited, giving him a chance to say anything or even apologize for his part in deceiving her, but Thomas remained mute and motionless as if unable to believe she wasn’t an apparition. One minute passed. Then another two, as their eyes remained locked on one another. Nothing from him. To hell with it. Even if he was too cowardly to say shit, Annabelle needed to unburden herself of the fucktivity she’d allowed her parents to embitter her soul with. She flung the door open, and the action brought Thomas out of his stupefied trance. He lunged forward, arm out in protest, shouting, “No, Annabelle!!! You’re not welcome here!!!”

  She recoiled as if he’d struck h
er. It was a verbal attack, but the words rained just like punishing blows, nonetheless, and for a moment, Annabelle felt defenseless all over again. Then she remembered exactly who was in the wrong here and got out anyway to confront her Judas of a father. Writhing with anger, Annabelle derided, “You dare to say that to me after you and Mama betrayed me?! Do you even know what that monster did to me that night??? Everything I suffered due to your selfish actions?!”

  Her father retreated a step, head hanging in shame for a moment before his self-righteous indignation kicked in. Forcefully, he thrust his finger in her face, snarling, “Don’t stand here and lie to me, Annabelle! You cost us everything we worked for! We tried to make a good life for you, and all you did was throw our efforts back in our face! Your mother can’t even leave the house because you humiliated and ruined her. Just looking at you makes my skin crawl!” With contempt, Thomas spit on her boots. “Now, are you going to leave on your own or will I have to call Sheriff Holloway to escort you outta here?”

  No, this motherfucker didn’t.

  Annabelle couldn’t breathe in the face of his audacity. Not one iota of remorse or love for his only child to be found in his cold brown eyes. She snapped. There was no other way to put it. Knocking his hand out of her face, Annabelle took advantage of his surprise to throw a punch, hitting him in the eye. She followed it with a shove so forceful, Thomas stumbled back as he covered his injury. Her fury was navigating Annabelle as she shoved him again and swung on him, connecting with the center of his chest as she hissed, “I hate you! I hate the both of you! Hell is too good a place for you both to rot!”

  Thomas did nothing to defend himself, and realizing he wouldn’t, Annabelle slapped him across the face, causing his head to jerk back from the blow as she declared in a raw voice, “You people are dead to me! Do you hear me?! DEAD.”

  She refused to give him the satisfaction of crumbling. Turning her back to him, Annabelle opened the truck and started it. Not once did she look at him again as she drove off his property. Her phone was ringing, but she didn’t even pull it out to check it. Annabelle was numb from the pain. She drove in a catatonic state, not even noticing the Ford F-150 slowly trailing her.