A Heart to Heal

by Synithia Williams

  He shook his head. “By the time you limp home your ankle will be in worse shape.”

  “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “Don’t be foolish. You’re hurt.” He reached down, placed his hands beneath her arms and lifted her. The movement was so swift her head swam. She placed her hands on his chest to balance herself. His thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts, making her nipples harden against his chest. It would be so easy to lean closer, wrap her arms around his shoulders. But this was Devin, the last man who would welcome her flirtation. And didn’t she just vow to take a break from men? It was one thing to walk into a relationship not knowing the man would break your heart. Completely self destructive when you knew the man had the power to crush you.

  As if sensing danger, he quickly stepped back and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Can you walk?”

  She took a small step and grimaced. “Yeah.”

  With a sigh he lifted her into his arms. “It’ll be faster if I carry you.”

  Her heart went into overdrive. He smelled good, a mixture of sweat and him that made her want to bury her face in the crook of his neck. If he had any clue how much he affected her, he’d drop her on the spot.

  Despite her internal warning, she went with her natural instincts and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “And more fun.”

  He glared at her. “Save your flirtations for someone else. I’m only helping because I’m a doctor and can’t leave you limping in the woods. ”

  Once again her natural inclination was self-destructive. How could she forget that Devin Jones hated her?

  Chapter 2

  Devin ran through every curse word he knew as he carried Shayla to his truck. He’d known she was back in town. Half his patients were buzzing about what happened to her in Atlanta and were eager to fill him in. Helena was small, so he’d mentally prepared himself to see her. He’d expected it to be at the grocery store, if she came with her mom to a doctor’s appointment, or at some community event. He’d even imagined seeing her in Columbia now that her friend Tasha was married to his friend Jared. For each of those scenarios he’d thought out how he would react. How he would treat her with the cool indifference his best friend Malcolm had down to a science. He would participate in any necessary small talk, comment on the weather, and move along as if she wasn’t the woman who’d shredded his heart years ago.

  But for all that preparation, he hadn’t come up with a response to seeing her trip over her own feet after one glance at him. His concern pushed aside all thoughts of acting indifferent. Not surprising. He could never stay indifferent when it came to Shayla.

  When they reached his truck, he unceremoniously dumped her in the passenger seat and slammed the door. He should’ve let her limp home, but as a doctor he couldn’t leave her injured in the middle of the trail. Plus, Hangman’s Woods wasn’t the safe place it had been in the nineties. With dusk approaching, most hikers left as unruly teens and other folks with ill intentions began hanging along the trails.

  He jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “You shouldn’t be running in the woods this late in the day,” he said as he drove out of the lot.

  She crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing the swells higher above her sports bra. He gripped the steering wheel and jerked his eyes away. Focus on the road.

  “I’ve wandered those trails too many times to count. I won’t get lost,” she said.

  “I know, but you haven’t been here in years. Once it gets dark all types of whack jobs start hanging there. Hikers don’t even camp anymore after a family was robbed two years ago.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I’ll remember that next time.”

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t make a next time. Just stay off the trails close to dusk. I’d hate for you to get hurt.”

  Her lips twisted into a sardonic smile. “I’m surprised you care.”

  He sighed. “I’ve always cared, Shayla. I stopped offering my advice because you never listened.”

  “You’re the only person I’ve ever listened to,” she murmured.

  He thought back to Homecoming and the night she’d broken his heart. “You didn’t always listen.”

  She stiffened before turning to look out the window. It was a low blow, and hurts from the past weren’t worth stirring up, but he needed to remind them both why they’d never worked out.

  “You know, high school was years ago, can we just say we were young and dumb and move on?” she said still facing the window.

  He relaxed his hands on the wheel. “Agreed.”

  They rode in silence the remaining minutes it took for him to drive to his office. It was a red brick building across from the small county hospital. He pulled into the side parking lot then helped Shayla out of the truck.

  “You really bought a truck. You always said you would. It’s nice,” she said.

  Taken aback that she remembered, he could only mumble his thanks. That was the thing about Shayla, she remembered everything. He couldn’t count the number of times he would mention something he wanted to do and somehow she’d make it happen. Back in high school she’d surprise him with the latest CD he wanted, or do something simple like show up with a can of pineapple just because she knew it was his favorite. She was both caring and selfish. A paradox he never could understand.

  When he placed her arm around his shoulder, her intoxicating scent floated over him, reminding him of cinnamon. He closed his eyes briefly before helping her limp toward the side entrance.

  He pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. They didn’t speak as he helped her through the darkened interior toward an exam room. He unwrapped her arm from his shoulder so she could go into the room first. Her eyes met his and his throat constricted. Shayla Monroe had the looks and body that would fit perfectly in any rap video. Exotic dark eyes that slanted at the ends, full breasts and a butt that even the most devout man couldn’t help but imagine palming. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. When they were younger she’d worn the thick tresses loose, where they curled around her shoulders. He used to love the way it would brush his face when she braided his hair in high school.

  Shayla shifted and he blinked. Damn, not even ten minutes in her company and he was reduced to staring. Without a word, he lifted her onto the exam table. He spun away to flip on a light and get a bandage from one of the cabinets.

  He brought the bandage to the table and lifted her ankle. It had swollen slightly over her shoe. He slipped off her sneaker and the sock and gently applied pressure to her ankle. She stiffened but didn’t jerk away. He moved her foot from side to side then up and down. Satisfied it wasn’t broken; he placed it back on the table.

  “You’ll live. I doubt it’s even sprained. I’ll wrap it and you’ll need to take is easy for a few days.” He said. When he met her eyes she was smiling with her head cocked to the side. “What?”

  “I can’t believe you’re a doctor. I mean, I knew that was your plan, but to actually see you here with your own practice, taking care of me. It’s great. I’m proud of you.”

  Tiny pinpricks of heat crept up his cheeks and he looked away. He was used to receiving praise for being the only black doctor in their small town, but it affected him more coming from Shayla.

  He began to deftly wrap her ankle with the bandage. “I’m fortunate to do something I love.” He lifted his chin in her direction. “What about you? Why are you back in Helena? If memory serves me correctly, you were never coming back to this place.”

  Her eyes became guarded as she stiffened. “You know why I’m back.”

  He finished with her ankle before turning to lean his back against the exam table. “I know why people say you’re back. I want you to tell me the real reason.”

  “So you can lecture me?”

 
“No,” he said. He didn’t need to know the real reason. It didn’t matter what she did with her life. He pushed away from the table. “I was just making conversation. Forget it.” He said walking to the door.

  “I lost my job … for sleeping with a client.”

  He paused. He kept his back to her as he lowered his eyes. He didn’t want to know. The idea of Shayla in another man’s bed caused feelings he didn’t want to explore to swell in his chest. And jealousy over her relationships was a waste of time.

  He turned back to her. “It’s none of my business.”

  She swung her legs to the side of the table. “Apparently it’s everyone’s business. You’ve heard the rumors, so you might as well hear the entire story. Yes, he was a member of the Atlanta city council. Yes, my firm handled his campaign. Yes, I … slept with him. But not for as long as the papers reported.”

  A vision of the arrogant blonde guy insisting that he was free to talk with Shayla when he’d seen her in Atlanta a year ago came to mind. He’d been in Atlanta for a party Jared and Malcolm put together for their mother’s engagement. The happy celebration quickly turned sour when Jared and Tasha got into an argument and he’d been enlisted to take her from the party to a friend. If he would have known the friend was Shayla, he would have let Tasha and Jared fight it out. At the time he hadn’t seen Shayla since high school, but it didn’t stop his body from reacting the way it had when he was seventeen whenever she was around. But when the man walked up to her and caressed her arm with his wedding ring clear for everyone to see, he’d pushed his desire aside and remembered that Shayla was only out for herself.

  “Was he the guy I saw you with in Atlanta?”

  She raised her chin and met his eyes. “Yes, but we weren’t together at the time.”

  He shook his head. “If you knew his position, why were you seeing him?”

  She shrugged a shoulder. Dark lashes lowered over her eyes. “I don’t know.”

  Irritation snapped within him. “Bullshit, you know. Why were you with him?”

  Her eyes widened, anger sparked within their dark centers. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

  She was right, but he couldn’t help himself. Once again she picked the wrong guy. A part of him knew this push for answers was because he never asked for them when it was his heart she’d broken. He wouldn’t think about how unappealing years of old jealousy looked on a man. “No, you don’t. But you owe yourself one. Shayla, why do you choose these guys?”

  She looked away. “Sometimes they choose me.”

  “Admit it. You enjoyed the excitement, the rush of doing something forbidden. Regardless of the consequences, you wanted what made you happy.”

  Her lips curled into a sneer as contempt filled her eyes. “That’s easy for you to say, isn’t it? Easy to believe I only care about myself. Not that I avoided his advances for years. Or that I didn’t believe it when he said their marriage was in trouble until she filed for divorce. It doesn’t matter I didn’t agree to one date with him until after they separated. Forget that he swore he loved me, but quickly changed his tune when he realized it would be easier for him to run for senate with his wife of ten years than me.”

  Pain and humiliation were clear in her eyes, yet she held her head high. A part of him believed her. There were men who lied about their marriages to sleep with other women. But he clearly remembered how Shayla’s need to have fun — regardless of the consequences — did a TKO on his heart years ago.

  He tried to relax and lower the tension between them, but couldn’t keep from saying, “In the end he was still a married man.”

  “Well now I know to scratch married men off my list,” she said mockingly as her fingers played with the gold heart pendant resting on her chest.

  He ran his hand along the back of his neck. “There’s no need to joke. His lying doesn’t excuse what you did.”

  “Why do you insist on seeing the bad in me?”

  “I don’t insist on it. I just don’t believe in sugar coating things to make them sound better.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You haven’t changed at all. You still try to rationalize everything. Never take into account emotions, or feelings — ”

  “Emotions and feelings are the same thing.”

  She scoffed. “Who cares? My point is that you want things to be black and white when life isn’t like that.”

  “Are you telling me you loved him?” Jealousy gripped him as he waited for her answer. The door to a relationship between the two of them was shut, bolted and nailed closed, but it didn’t make it easier thinking of her in love someone else.

  She chewed the inside of her cheek before answering. “No, I didn’t love him.”

  Relief relaxed his shoulders. He didn’t want to exam why. “So why where you with him?”

  His eyes bore into hers. He shouldn’t have asked. But ever since Shayla had gone from the one person in life he could trust, to the person who’d hurt him the most he’d always wondered what went on inside her mind. The same rationale she criticized him about was what she once claimed kept her sane. Now she didn’t appear to want any sanity in her life.

  “We had fun together, okay. The thing you hate to hear me say, I did something just because at the time it seemed like a fun thing to do.” Her shoulders slumped and he saw in her eyes how much it upset her to admit that to him.

  She shifted on the exam table. “Can you take me home now?”

  The entire conversation was unnecessary. Why Shayla Monroe did the things she did wasn’t his concern. If she never realized how smart, beautiful and special she was and continued hooking herself to men who never realized it either, then more power to her. From what he’d heard she was only in town temporarily. His best bet was to try and avoid her while she was here and move on with his life after she left.

  He reached out to help her slide off the table. It was easier to ignore his reaction to her closeness this time. He pulled away abruptly and with a brisk “wait here” left to get a pair of crutches stored in a closet. He helped her adjust them to her height, she was only a few inches shorter than his six feet, and they left without a word.

  The silence continued as he drove toward her mother’s home. On the way, memories of driving her home after football and basketball games rushed through his head. The way they’d talk and laugh about everything that happened during the day. Then end the night sitting on her mom’s porch until Marcella finally told him it was time to go. He hadn’t thought of the good times with Shayla in years.

  As he approached her mom’s house he remembered his nurse, Lisa, complaining about Mr. Porter renting one of his homes to her. The main complaint was the assumption Shayla would have strange men parading through. That was unfounded. Shayla may be reckless, but she wasn’t a slut, or at least she hadn’t been.

  Dusk had settled, and the only illumination on Shayla’s street came from the old street lights. It was enough to see there were still a few people sitting on porches. His truck was well known, and by morning every gossip would know where he’d been. He could only imagine the speculation after he dropped her off. He pulled up to the small house she rented and cut the engine. If she was surprised he knew where she stayed she didn’t say anything.

  “I got it.” She said when he came around to help.

  Ignoring her, he took the crutches and helped her out of the truck. “I’ll help you inside then leave, alright.”

  She nodded and he assisted her up the stone steps. He frowned when she opened the old screen door and front door without a key. “You didn’t lock the door?”

  She hopped into the house before turning to face him. “I was only supposed to be gone for a half hour at most.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “Shayla, you lived in Atlanta, you should know better than to keep your door open.”

  She waved
her hand. “This isn’t Atlanta.”

  “We still have criminals.” He looked over her shoulder. He could see most of the house and it didn’t appear as if anyone was there. Boxes were on the floor in the living room and kitchen, but he didn’t like leaving her there without knowing if things were secure. “Do you want me to check the house?”

  She laughed. “Really? Where would someone hide in this matchbox?” She tilted her head to the side and a teasing glint came to her eye. “Are you searching for an excuse to come inside?”

  She was only teasing him, but it didn’t register with his dick as it twitched at the implication. It had been too long since he’d had sex, something he’d have to remedy if he were to live with Shayla in the vicinity. Ignoring his long neglected libido, he stepped back. “I don’t want to come in, but I’ll wait in my truck for a few minutes. Flash the porch light if everything is clear.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Man, you’re old fashioned. Good bye, Devin.”

  She closed the door and he ambled off the porch toward his truck. He got in and waited, wondering if she’d really flash the lights. Although he’d warned her about criminals, he doubted she had anything to worry about. Everyone knew everyone on this street, and even though there were a few less than savory people living in this part of town, no one would blatantly hurt her. Even so, he tapped his hands on the steering wheel when a few minutes passed and she hadn’t flashed the light. He reached for the handle to open the door and check on her, when the porch light flicked on then off. Feeling relieved, and foolish, he turned on his truck and sped off.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning Shayla woke up frowning. Her reunion with Devin went just as she’d expected. He’d clearly shown his disappointment and as usual, hadn’t let her off the hook for wrongdoing on her part. What was worse, his disappointment mirrored her own. Yes, Mark lied to her about his relationship with his wife, but he wasn’t the first cheating man to use that excuse. In the back of her mind she’d always questioned if he would really let his wife go. She knew he planned to run for senate; and intuition, more than her public relations experience, told her it would be easier if he ran with his wife at his side. But when she’d learned of their pending divorce, loneliness overran good sense. After years of ignoring Mark’s advances, she let herself entertain the thought of them together.