Welcome to Serenity Harbor

by Multiple Authors

  His fists clenched. It simply wouldn’t happen again.

  “I swear, Christine.” Danny Fitzsimmons’s voice scraped over Tyler’s senses. “If you weren’t so stupid, I’d think you were trying to fuck with me on purpose.”

  His mother stood next to the fireplace, poker in hand. Broken glass glittered on the floor where a bottle had been smashed against the brick hearth. Tyler felt a momentary relief that his mother didn’t appear to have been hurt––yet. She looked furious and ready to defend, but her petite form was nothing compared to the hulking beast that was Danny Fitzsimmons. As she’d learned numerous times.

  “What are you doing here?” Tyler strode into the room with far more bravado than he felt. Inside, his belly trembled. He spoke loud to keep the quiver from his voice. No matter what he bench pressed at the school gym, no matter how big his muscles were, he’d always be afraid of this man.

  His father glanced at him with a sneer. “Mind your business, boy.”

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” Tyler said. “I’m calling the police.”

  “G’luck with that. Restraining order’s expired,” his father slurred. “Get lost, Tyler. I’m having a conversation with my wife.”

  “We’re not married any more, Danny,” his mother cut in. “Thank God for that.”

  “Then why am I still giving you over half my paycheck?”

  She looked at him like he was daft. “It’s called child support.”

  “I give you all my money and get nothing for it.” Danny didn’t notice the sarcasm. He staggered a little, took a drag on his cigarette then tossed it in the fireplace. “All I want is a little fu––“

  “Enough!” His mother’s face went crimson. “Your son is in the room.”

  “You think I care?”

  “I know you don’t,” she said. “You are trespassing, Danny. I’ve asked you repeatedly to leave and you haven’t. I will call the police if you don’t get out now.”

  Danny puffed up to nearly double his considerable size. His face darkened to an ugly purple shade. “You remember what happened the last time you threatened me, Christine?”

  Tyler’s stomach dropped. “No one’s threatening. You need to leav––“

  Like a striking snake, Danny pivoted, smashing his fist into Tyler’s face.

  Pain and an explosion of lights erupted in his left eye. Tyler reeled back, one hand clamped over his stabbing eye. Damn! For a drunk guy carrying around a lot of extra weight, the man was fast.

  “I told you to mind your business, boy.”

  “Goddamnit, Danny!” Tyler’s mother brandished the poker at her ex-husband with fury. “I’m calling the police now.”

  Like a switch being flipped, Danny Fitzsimmons switched from irritating, verbally foul drunk to deadly dangerous. The older man turned toward Christine with a look of malice.

  “Mom, don’t.” Tyler, with ringing ears and still woozy from the blow, shoved himself in front of his mother. “You heard the lady. Get out of here.”

  “Lady?” Danny laughed, spraying spit and acrid breath in Tyler’s face. “That woman is a lot of things, but lady ain’t one of them.”

  “Or I can kick your ass.” Tyler growled the words even as they churned his stomach. Hitting would draw him one degree closer to being like his father. Render him a little less different from the man he loathed and a little less like himself.

  “As if you have the balls.” Danny’s red, watery eyes sobered for a moment and turned calculating. “Y’know Tyler, I’m glad I caught you here. I was explaining to your mother that Aunt Marnie passed away a few weeks back. You prob’ly don’t remember her. She moved to California when you were a tyke. Well, she left a shitload of money to you…in my care.” His lips curled up at the edges, revealing yellowed teeth. His voice dropped to a hiss. “Guess how much of it you’re going to get?”

  Tyler saw red at the edges of his vision. His hands shook with the desire to strike, to beat this horrible smirking man to a pulp. To pulverize the features they shared until Danny was unrecognizable. “I said, get out.”

  “No problem, sport.” Danny moved past Tyler, bumping shoulders hard. “Christine,” he said to Tyler’s mother. “Your baby boy won’t always be here to coddle you––remember that.” He left, banging the front door on the way out.

  Tyler watched Danny’s departure through the living room window. This was why he couldn’t leave.

  His mother held out a trembling hand. “I’m sorry, Tyler. Are you okay?”

  “Sorry for what?” Tyler’s voice was sharper than intended. He watched his father stagger down the street, showing no signs of returning. At least, not immediately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Except maybe marry that asshole.

  “He came in through the back door. I couldn’t stop him.” She rubbed her upper arm where a bruise was forming. So the bastard had put his hands on her.

  “Why didn’t you get a new restraining order when the old one lapsed?” The adrenaline was seeping from his limbs, leaving him weary, shaky.

  “He hadn’t come by in months,” she said. “He hadn’t bothered us. I thought…”

  “That he was done bothering us?” Tyler let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “I’ll go to the police station tomorrow.”

  “I’m calling them now.” Tyler dropped the window curtain and turned to his mother. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you badly?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  If he had a nickel every time his mother said those three words after getting pushed around by Danny, he’d be richer than Ashley Sloane-Whittaker. He closed his eyes as an image of the girl he’d spent the evening with flickered through his mind. The thought of her perfect world coming in contact with his dysfunctional and abusive one made him shudder. It simply wasn’t going to happen.

  “We can get him to release the money,” his mother said.

  “What money?”

  “Your Aunt Marnie’s. The inheritance.”

  Tyler shrugged, dialed the number of the local police. “He probably just said all that to upset you.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Christine got up, found the remote and turned the TV off. “I’ll find out more about this.”

  “Don’t bother,” Tyler said. The weight of exhaustion pulled him in the direction of his room. All he wanted to do was sleep. Well, take a shower to scrub off Danny Fitzsimmons’s stench, then sleep. “I don’t care about Aunt Marnie’s money.”

  “I know you don’t.” She placed a cool hand against his cheek. “That’s what makes you so special.”

  Tyler resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Nothing about him was special. The police operator answered and Tyler reported the intrusion, the assault. It was a speech he’d delivered before. “The police are on their way.”

  His mother nodded. She looked tired, too. Defeated. “Let me get some ice for that eye.”

  “I can do it.” Tyler turned away. His evening with Ashley felt like a faraway thing, or maybe a dream. She was a creature of another universe. He looked at the shattered glass on the floor, felt the throbbing in his eye. This was his life, his reality. The thought of anyone living on Frontwater Drive being a part of this freak show life was as likely as Tyler ever living on that street himself.

  Chapter 7

  Ashley

  Ashley knew things got weird between her and Tyler on Friday night, and things stayed weird on Monday morning. If her father was right, and Tyler was bugged out by her family’s wealth, a simple conversation should straighten it out. Obviously, they liked each other. He did almost kiss her.

  “Hey, Tyler,” she said as he passed her locker.

  “Ashley,” he muttered without stopping––without pausing. His shoulders were hunched, eyes lowered. He tilted his head away, but she glimpsed a livid shiner ringing his left eye.

  He called her Ashley. Not good. That should have been a clear enough message, but she frowned and started to follow him. Ella caught her ar
m. “I wouldn’t, Ash.”

  “Why? What happened to him?”

  Ella’s expression pinched. She looked unsure of how much to share. “Look, Tyler’s home life is pretty complicated. And it isn’t pretty.”

  “His home life?” Ashley slammed her locker. “What exactly is going on over there?”

  Ella sighed. “His father stopped by his house after he dropped you off and…”

  “His father gave him a black eye?” Ashley’s heart had begun pounding so hard, it thundered in her ears. She thought of the foul suggestions her mother’s boyfriend had started making when he’d moved in with them, how helpless and afraid she’d felt. How she’d run away to her dad’s and how unbelievably lucky she was to have a safe place to run to. Tyler clearly didn’t have that. He had to live with fear and pain.

  “It’s not as bad as it used to be, now that Ty can fight back,” Ella said. “He only comes by these days in drunken rages against Ty’s mom.”

  Ashley’s outrage doubled. This was the woman her dad still had a thing for. “Why isn’t this man in jail?”

  “He’s in and out.” Ella shifted her feet. “Look, Ash, I’m not being mean, here, but things are different for people who can’t afford things like fancy lawyers. Tyler’s mother rarely seeks charges anymore. She went all out one time, hired a lawyer and everything, and the bastard got six weeks and a fine. Plus, he makes good money in construction and she needs the support checks.”

  “She should try again,” Ashley said hotly. “Hire a better lawyer. That man should not be allowed near Tyler and his mom.”

  Ella shook her head. “I know you two hung out on Friday night, and there were crazy sparks there, but you barely know Tyler.” She sighed. “I made a mistake Friday night, trying to play matchmaker with you two. I’m sorry, Ash.”

  Ella’s message was clear: Drop your interest with Tyler. He’s not going there with you. Ashley bit her lip. “I’m not sorry. I like him.” Ella’s gaze turned to sympathy, prompting Ashley’s pride to prick up. “You probably know this, but we almost kissed.”

  “I did not know that.” Ella blinked. “How close was it? Like, did he almost seriously kiss you?”

  “It was close. Inches.” Ashley blew her bangs out of her eyes. “We were right there. And some old band member drove by and called to him. Spell broken.”

  Ella sighed again. “Look, Ash. I get it. He’s hot. He has that dark and brooding thing going on, and he well, is clearly into you, but right now, Ty’s not…”

  “Boyfriend material?” Ashley supplied bleakly.

  “No, I think he’d make a great boyfriend.” Ella held up a finger. “But he doesn’t think so. He can’t look in the mirror and not see his father––and I know this for a fact because he’s told me.” She put a hand on Ashley’s shoulder. “He’s not ready. You can’t make someone believe something of themselves. They have to see it on their own.”

  “How’d you get so wise?”

  “My mother is a yoga and meditation instructor,” Ella replied. “We have a yurt in the back yard. I steal all my material from her.”

  “It’s good stuff.” Ashley hugged her books to her chest. “Okay. So how do I help him?”

  “By not helping him,” she said, flatly. “Look. Just chill for a while. See if you even want to be friends. Aha! I’ve got it––imagine you just discovered he’s your first cousin.”

  “Ew.”

  “I know, right? Do whatever it takes to put the hormones on the back burner.” She raised a brow. “Honestly, giving space what worked with Benny and me. I thought he was an attention whore––which he is. And a manslut––which he isn’t. He hounded me for a year to date him, and I was like, ‘no way,’ but it wasn’t until he stopped hitting on me and we just hung out like normal that I started to like him. So just…let the universe do its thing and see how events unfold.”

  Ashley sighed. “That’s really good advice.”

  “I’m telling you. Meditation is where it’s at.”

  “No kidding. I’m signing up for your mother’s classes.”

  Chapter 8

  Christine

  Christine Fitzsimmons’s hands were tight on the wheel as she pulled into the long, curving driveway at 10 Frontwater Drive. Good lord, this house was big. Bigger than she remembered it all those years ago. She parked her truck where she could sail out of here if this went badly. It likely would.

  Christine hadn’t spoken more than a few words to Zach Sloane in almost twenty years. Since she’d broken up with him right here on these front steps. She closed her eyes briefly at the memory. It had been a mistake, probably, but if she’d stayed with Zach she wouldn’t have Tyler. Christine’s heart squeezed as she thought of her son. He was so brave, so strong. No matter what she did, she hadn’t been able to protect him. And if she allowed it, he would never take his opportunities to spread his wings and find his true path. He would never get out from under his father’s foot or stop trying to protect her. Christine could live with a lot. She couldn’t live with that.

  She peeked at herself in the mirror. She looked damn good, even after dealing with Danny Fitzsimmons’ fists for the past two decades. Not that it mattered. Zach was unlikely to even come to the door, let alone recall his long-ago offer of help. This might end up as an exercise in humiliation, but she––and Tyler––had endured worse. Christine reapplied the lipstick she’d chewed off on the ride here. She smoothed back her sleek ponytail and climbed out of the truck.

  She pressed the doorbell, then tucked the trembling hand behind her back.

  An older woman opened the door with a smile. “May I help you, ma’am?”

  “I’d like to speak to Mr. Sloane, if he’s in?” She knew damn well he was in. His black Range Rover sat right there in open garage bay.

  “Who may I tell him is calling?”

  “Christine Fitzsimmons.”

  “Just a moment.” The woman gently closed the door and Christine let out a huge breath. This was it. Either he’d let her in or tell her to get lost, although in politer terms. Her knees were not steady. She looked longingly at her pickup truck, then firmed her jaw and straightened her spine. She’d do this. For Tyler.

  As she was beginning to think Zach wasn’t coming, the door opened and the man she’d dumped twenty years ago poked a tousled head through the opening. “Christine?”

  “Hi, Zach.”

  He blinked at her like he wasn’t sure of his eyes. And man, those eyes were every bit as dreamy as she remembered.

  “This is a surprise,” he said. “Would you, um, like to come in?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She went inside, her boots making staccato raps on the marble foyer.

  He was delightfully disheveled in jeans and an untucked flannel shirt. “I wasn’t expecting anyone––was just working through paperwork in my office…”

  “I get it if you don’t have time,” she said. “I should have called.”

  “No, it’s fine.” His eyes sharpened on hers. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a long time.”

  “It has.”

  He ran a hand through his sandy hair. “Is this about Ashley? I know she’d been spending time with your boy, Tyler. I have no idea what their status is now, but I don’t think they’re dating.”

  Christine’s heart made a hard bump in her chest. Tyler and Zach’s daughter? She’d had no idea, but that could explain Tyler’s dark mood lately. Zach’s words zapped like static. “He’s a good kid.”

  Zach didn’t blink. “I know.”

  “Sorry. That came out wrong.” It came out defensive. “This isn’t about the kids.”

  “Okay.” Zach’s expression went unreadable. “What can I do for you, Christine?”

  “Um.” Her hand dipped into her purse and retrieved a few, folded-up pieces of paper. “You’re a lawyer.”

  “That I am.”

  Here it was––the moment of truth. “You told me once if I ever needed a favor that you’d…well. I need a favor, Zach
.”

  “Anything.”

  Her chest swelled with hope. “You don’t have to––“

  “Anything,” he repeated, sweeping a hand toward the stairs. “Let’s talk in my office.”

  Chapter 9

  Ashley

  As October rolled on and the air got cooler, Serenity Harbor decked itself out for Halloween. Pumpkins sat on every stoop. Candles flickered in windows. The summer and leaf-peeping tourists were long gone and the sidewalks were quieter places to walk. The coats got thicker and scarves wrapped tighter. She started to really know the town and the people who lived there. One thing she learned she adored was yoga. Ashley went to Mrs. Larkin’s yoga class every Monday and Thursday evenings in the vibrant, patchouli-scented yurt that took up almost the entire back yard of Ella’s house. Ella’s mom was cool and down-to-Earth. There was no mystery as to how she produced such a great daughter.

  Ashley was falling for Serenity Harbor. She loved the sweet town, the gentle roar of the ocean, even the sound of their neighbor’s sheep braying first thing in the morning––actually, she didn’t love that sound. Living down the street from a “gentleman farmer,” as Mr. Palmer liked to describe himself, came with early morning noises, an occasional smells that Ashley could do without. Most of all, she was crazy about her dad. He took her apple picking. They went hiking. Each time they did something together, they were more at ease.

  As October unfolded, so did her friendship with Tyler. At first, it took work to ignore her feelings and see him, as Ella suggested, as a newly discovered first cousin. It took Tyler a full week to look at her in the eye. Neither of them was giving up friendship with Ella, so they wound up at the same events. Sitting together at the lunch table. At Mister Moon’s to see Glass Houses play. It didn’t take long for Tyler to soften. By the time his shiner had faded, he was calling her Patches again and walking with her in the halls. They talked about many things, but Tyler never brought up his father. Ashley never brought up her problems in Boston. Neither pushed. He did not try to kiss her again.