by Hart, A.
Sawyer rounded the corner, and as soon as his eyes connected with mine, he was on the floor in front of me. His large hands cupped my face as he whispered, “Meg, Pumpkin, are you okay?” I stared into his soft brown eyes and couldn’t help but swim in the pool of their warmth. I nodded weakly and then tried to stand. My legs felt more wobbly than they should, and I wasn’t sure if it was the fear or the other thing that Sawyer often stirred in me. The thing that I tried to avoid at all costs. The thing that could give me everything I ever wanted or take it. My feelings were starting to feel like a curse.
Sawyer steadied me against him and looked at me with his concerned look that stirred those feelings even more. I cleared my throat and shook his hold off me lightly. “Sorry, I’m . . . I’m fine.” I ignored his glare and looked over at the Sheriff.
I pointed to my window that was still open. I explained to him what happened and he took notes. SJ was still glaring at me. I rolled my lips in and crossed my arms. I was amazed at how well my body remembered him. It took no time for me to recognize his stares, his touches and his tone of voice. Even at the bar, when I wasn’t sure if it was him, my body knew. I had immediately reacted to him like a magnet reacting to its opposite.
The Sheriff looked around the apartment. The drawers in the living room and hallway had been gone through and were dumped out on the floor. I was shocked that I didn’t hear it, but I had been in the kitchen directly over the coffeehouse, and it tended to be loud in the mornings. Noises easily faded into the background. He also told me that he would look into this right away, and that it was best if I stayed somewhere else for a couple of days. An officer would keep an eye on the place while I was gone. He said it could have just been a bored teenager, but until they knew, it wasn’t safe for Charlotte and me to stay here.
I nodded and shook his hand. “Thank you so much for your time, Sheriff.”
He smiled weakly. “No problem, Ma’am, Charles played football with my son. He was a good man.” I nodded and crossed my arms over my chest again. It had been three years, and yet it still stung when someone said his name. The way Sawyer’s face slightly twisted told me that it stung him, too. The Sheriff nodded at SJ. “Prescott.”
Sawyer waved. “See ya later, man, thanks.”
The door closed behind the Sheriff and I finally looked over at Sawyer. I couldn’t fight the magnetic pull any longer. His eyes connected with mine, and even in a moment like this, the sparks flew in front of me. I couldn’t help my mind from appreciating the way his clothes fit his tall, muscular body. Even in a time of panic, he got to me. I cleared my throat, and when I went to step backwards, away from his intoxicating presence, my foot rolled. His hands flew to my side and steadied me for the second time this morning.
“I got you, Pumpkin.” His voice was low and raspy and sent a wave of want through me. No, no, no, Megan. No. Stop. I sighed and looked down.
Unable to allow my eyes to look into his with him still holding me steady, I looked at my feet. His voice lowered with his head as he asked, “You okay?”
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
He smiled sweetly and then placed both hands on my hips. “You sure about that?”
I sighed louder, unable to stop my entire body from shifting. “Yeah, I don’t know, I’m sure it was nothing, but it just brought back too many . . . ”
Our eyes met, and his smile dropped. “I know.”
I nodded and then rolled my lips in. “Anyway, thank you for coming so quickly and for calling the Sheriff.”
Sawyer’s hands softly grazed my hips again and he nodded. “Thank you for texting me. I just got off shift. I’m glad you’re okay.” I swallowed hard, uncomfortable with the way my body was reacting to his.
I stepped back a little at the realization that our hips were practically touching. He looked me up and down. When our eyes met, he smiled that panty-dropping grin, the one that had been hidden for the last ten minutes by his worry. Aw, there’s my SJ. Realizing I wasn’t wearing a bra, and that was most likely the reason for said grin, I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Um, I’ll be right back.” I quickly went to the hall closet and, stepping over the pile of stuff spread on the ground, I grabbed out a bra. I went into the bathroom and locked the door. Once I was sure Sawyer wouldn’t try and barge in, I slipped the bra on. I took a deep breath as I looked at myself in the mirror. I sighed and realized it didn’t matter if I looked awful, because he had seen every side of me. I rushed out of the bathroom and straight into Sawyer’s chest. His hands steadied me on my arms for the third time today. The fact that I was keeping track showed how uncomfortably excited his touches were making me, how much they were weakening my defense against his love. I looked around to see that he had somehow quickly cleaned up the messes on the floor.
His deep, raw voice broke my train of thought. “Easy there, Champ . . . and I just threw stuff in random drawers, so don’t thank me yet.”
I weakly smiled up at him and took a step back, pulling my arms from his light hold. “Well, thanks.” He frowned at the distance and then casually placed his hands in his pockets. His eyes grazed my body up and down. I wiggled awkwardly, in distress because those darn tingles went up my spine.
Sawyer smiled wide, amused with my level of discomfort. “Nice outfit,” He said with a smirk, referring to my Halloween pajama pants and gray camisole top.
I winced. “Thanks.” I sighed and then rolled in my lips. Realizing we were standing in the hallway, I slid past him. He didn’t move, so I had to literally squeeze between him and the wall “Jeez, SJ, do you have to be so stubborn all the time?”
He snorted as his gaze followed me to the living room. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
This time I laughed. “You’re calling me stubborn?”
He shrugged and then walked closer to me. “Can you just admit that you’re terrified?”
I stilled and glared at him “I didn’t think I had to, pretty sure you could see that yourself. I’m trying to recover my day.”
His hands slid back into his pockets and he nodded. I looked up into his rich brown eyes and had to fight not to get lost in them again. I tapped my hands on my legs in anxiety and nodded my head back at him. I began walking to the kitchen when he lightly gripped my elbow and gently pulled me back to him.
I didn’t fight him, I just went with his direction. He pulled me up close to him and then rested his hands on my hips. I looked up into those eyes again and darn him! I couldn’t help it, I was a kid again and I was madly in—Nope, stop. Stop! Megan, do not go there, do not think it. My mental battle with myself must have shown on my face because Sawyer’s soft voice broke me from it.
“Why do you fight it?” His hand gently brushed against my cheek to tuck a loose strand behind my ear. I tried not let the soft touch affect me, I really did, but a shiver ran through my body anyway. Sawyer’s face was still serious.
I sighed and tried to step back from him. “Friends, SJ.”
He nodded. “I know.” His hands held a soft but firm grip on my hips, holding me in place. When I didn’t respond to him and instead just stared at the ground, he spoke again. “You’re shaking, Meg.” His hands ran up and down my arms.
Suddenly, I was fully aware of my trembling body. “Yeah.” I whispered.
Before I could think about why, SJ lifted me in a swift motion and carried to my still-unmade bed only feet from us. Oh, no . . . no, no, no. This is bad. This is very bad. He’s too sexy, too amazing, too sweet and too real. I can’t say no to him. Still silent, my eyes widened as he sat me on the bed.
His voice was low and raspy as he sat next to me. “Don’t freak out now, I’m just trying to help you calm down. I know we’re just friends.” The dislike in the last word didn’t go unnoticed, but I shook it off. Sawyer reached behind me to grab one of my favorite throw blankets and Oh, no. He wrapped it around my shoulders and then pulled me into his side.
I stopped fighting it and laid my head on the inside
of his shoulder. I felt my body calm and my breathing slow. This was something we had done too many times to remember. Sawyer was often the comfort I needed growing up. If I needed it, I could always find it here, in his arms. It seemed that hadn’t changed, and I was sure in that moment that it never would. I closed my eyes, grateful that he didn’t recognize the blanket that he had wrapped around me.
I thought too soon, because Sawyer’s breath tickled my ear as he whispered. “You still sleep with it, huh?” I couldn’t talk, and I certainly couldn’t look at him.
He was referring to the soft knit, purple blanket that he had just wrapped around me so tenderly, just as he did so many times before. Sawyer had given me the blanket for Christmas in seventh grade. He had seen me admiring it at a department store. I didn’t have anything like it of my own, and nothing so elegant or soft. Purple had been my favorite color since I saw a field of fresh lavender on a field trip in first grade. I slept with it every night until I left eight years ago. Even then I had used it, not every night, but when I was sick or sad or scared. Charles never thought it was too odd. I just told him someone I cared for a lot gave it to me and it was special. I shrugged with a sigh, not wanting to admit what that meant: that I’d never stopped loving Sawyer. He kissed the top of my head and then whispered, “Can’t say I’m upset.” I snorted and shook my head.
After a little while, maybe five minutes, I scooted away from Sawyer and put the blanket back where it had been. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “It always worked before, I figured some things were still the same.” And when he said it, his eyes connected with mine and his words sent a jolt of emotion through my body. I had to hold back a stream of tears from rolling down my face.
I turned around and walked back to the kitchen. Halfway there, I stopped. “I was having coffee when it all happened. You want some?”
He nodded. “That would be great.” I smiled and then went into the kitchen to pour him a coffee and heat mine up in the microwave. When I emerged back into the living room, Sawyer had made my bed and was folding up the bed into the couch. I smiled and shook my head. He was just too good. Always had been, and always would be, and I would never deserve him. I slowly walked up to him and handed him his coffee. “Thank you.” He smiled up at me.
“No, Thank you,” I said with irony in my voice. He had come to my rescue once again, yet he was thanking me for a cup of coffee.
Chapter Twenty
Megan
Sawyer and I sat on the couch, silently sipping our coffee. I was still shaking a little from my morning. After a moment of silence, I nervously spat out, “So we can be friends?” It burned to do so, because inside I was yelling at myself. I didn’t ever want to just be his friend. It had become clear to me eight years ago, and that was part of the reason why I had run. I smiled at Sawyer, hiding my true feelings. His face twisted a little with discomfort, but then he smiled wide in return.
He nodded and took a sip of coffee. “Friends.” I nodded back and copied him by sipping my coffee as well. After a few moments of us just sitting and drinking, he cleared the air with his deep voice. “Where do you plan on staying tonight?”
I almost choked on my coffee. “Um, I don’t know. We could stay with Jules, Emerson, Trav—”
He cut me off. “Or my place.” I choked again and then smiled.
“Um, SJ, I don’t think that—”
He cut me off again with his hand lightly on top of mine. “You said we could be friends? Plus, we had a great time watching Tremors a couple of nights ago, and I know you missed me, Pumpkin. We can hang out like old times—well, plus Lotte. It’ll be fun.”
I nodded. “Yeah, but—”
Sawyer smiled. “But what?”
I laughed. “But you know that isn’t completely true.”
His smiled dropped and his hand lightly brushed mine. “Yeah, well, I’m willing to try. If friendship is what you want, Pumpkin . . . then I will give it all I’ve got.”
I licked my lips and tried not to look at him, but I couldn’t help it. His hand squeezed mine, and our eyes met as he spoke, “I will do it for you, Meg, I will do anything for you.”
My stomach dropped, and I felt like I needed to puke. I had thought that exact thought before, but about him. Here he was, close to a decade later, saying the words that once echoed in my head so long ago. I smiled weakly and nodded, unable to speak without tears rolling down my face. Sawyer pulled his hand back and took another sip of his coffee. He cleared his throat.
“Don’t overthink it, Pumpkin. I have three spare rooms. You and Lotte can share or have your own. Just for a few nights, until the Sheriff figures out who was here and why. You know I won’t be able to sleep worrying about you. I’m off for the next three days anyway. Can’t think of anything better to do. I can keep you safe.”
I looked up at him and nodded. “Well, we’ll be at school today and tomorrow from eight until three.”
SJ acted relieved. “Thank God!”
I smiled and playfully smacked his arm. “But Saturday and Sunday we don’t have plans.”
His smile widened with mischievous gratitude as he spoke. “I have plenty I can do while you’re out. But when you are there, Lotte can ride my horse and play with my dog. It will be fun. Tonight I can make dinner and we can even watch a movie of her choice.”
I laughed. “Frozen.”
Sawyer stared at me. “Really?”
I shrugged. “Every time. It’s all she wants to watch.”
Sawyer laughed. “Anything for my Little Pumpkin.” My heart warmed in ways that felt too good to admit.
After we finished our coffee, I followed SJ to the door and opened it when he turned around. “I’ve got some things to do today, but I’ll see you at five? I’ll text you my address.”
I laughed. “I have to get to work. Like now.” Then I waved as he walked down the steps. I went back into my apartment, closed the door, locked it, and then leaned up against it. “What the hell am I doing?” Suddenly I noticed my window still opened and ran over to close it. Quickly realizing the time I needed to get ready for work was passing faster than ever, I texted the other kindergarten teacher to watch my kids for a couple of minutes because I would be slightly late.
Stew
I sat in the old, beat up truck I had stolen last night from some doped up dealer. He decided to go back on his word to supply me with what I needed, so I decided he didn’t need his truck. He didn’t argue too much once he saw my shoty, no tweaker ever did. I watched as hero boy left Little Miss Perfect’s apartment with a dumb ass smile on his pretty face. Oh, I’d be getting rid of it real soon. They thought they could run from me? That they could live happily ever after and I wouldn’t find out? That I wouldn’t try and collect my piece of the pie?
That asshole nearly beat the life out of me almost a decade ago and I could have sued. But did I? Oh no, I left him alone, just like Megan’s whore of a mother Missy told me to. She said that suing him would draw unwanted attention. I didn’t know what the hell she was talking ‘bout then and I still didn’t. Me not suing him was a favor if you ask me, so now that Missy was in prison and unable to supply me with what I needed, I would get my freakin’ money. I didn’t care what I had to do, Sawyer would pay me whatever the hell I wanted.
Luckily for me in this rural town, old trucks were common and so I didn’t stand out much. Some sheriff came by a minute ago, looked right at me through my window and asked if I’d seen anything happen in the apartment. Told him I’d been in the liquor store across the street. Looking at me, he didn’t even question it. I know he’d be back if he asked the liquor store if they had seen me, because they hadn’t. I’d been in miss perfect’s apartment looking for some information on her birth father. Guess he was loaded, enough to leave an inheritance for Megan that had Missy acting all kinds of crazy when Megan disappeared.
No Megan meant no inheritance, meaning Missy couldn’t do what she usually did and claim the money for herself. It was her own
damn fault. If she had let me in on her little secret I wouldn’t have sent Megan packing. Instead she told me she got all her checks from welfare. How was I supposed to freakin’ know? Perfect timing…Sawyer left and I followed him. Since I found nothing on Megan’s father, I would follow pretty boy to his house and see if I could threaten him. Better yet I’d get a lay of the land and threaten Megan. Oh, this was going to be good and oh too easy. Sawyer always was a sucker for that girl. Why? I didn’t know, she sure ain’t anything special.
SJ
I whistled as I drove back to Big Mike’s, the local grocery store in Wheatland. Technically I lived in the next town over, Lincoln, but I planned on taking the back roads home and there were no stores that way. I didn’t feel like taking the highway into Lincoln to shop today. The small store would do. Plus, I liked Big Mike. I’d met him at the festival. Good guy. I liked knowing who I was supporting. As I parked my truck, I went over the long list of things Megan needed to know. I had three days to tell her. I took a deep breath. Finding her was a blessing and a curse.
She decided we should be friends, and although I hated the idea, if it’s what she wanted, I would do it. Whether we would be friends again or more, there were things in our past, in her past specifically, that she didn’t know. Secrets that I had found out in the last eight years in my attempts to find her. Secrets that had devastated me. I had time to process them and was now at peace with them, but Megan would struggle. They would attack the weakest part of her, the part that felt like she wasn’t good enough. The worst part was that they would solidify her reasoning for not being with me.
I could see it in her eyes that she didn’t think she was good enough for me, I always had, and I had always tried to prove to her just how amazing she was. She thought that her mom, her birth mom, defined her. That was laughable, because the woman contributed absolutely nothing to her other than DNA. Honestly, that was arguable. How Megan came from that shell of a woman, I had no idea. Megan ever thinking that I was too good for her rocked me to my core. It had never and would never be true. She had always been the strongest, most loving woman I had known. No other person would have been able to endure the kind of torture and neglect she did as a child. Not endure it and still grow up to be an honest, kind, passionate member of society. She was a loving mother, friend, teacher, and once, a wife. I could only imagine how amazing she was at that.
