by Liz Talley
Lucas’s phone buzzed on the foyer table. He answered as he picked up his keys. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, honey, we’re running late. There was an accident on I-10, and traffic is backed up. Rush hour late Friday, so it’s going to be thirty minutes or so before we get there.”
“I have to leave now, Mom. I’m dropping Michael off at his friend’s house, and Chris has to be at the race by six-thirty.”
“Well, why don’t we just meet you at the races?”
He glanced out the window, and in the darkening shadows, he could just make out both Addy and Flora’s cars in the driveway next door. “Let me talk to the neighbors. They might let Charlotte stay with them until you get here. Trust me, you don’t want to go to the speedway or whatever they call it. Loud, noisy, and lots of rails for Charlotte to climb.”
“Call me back and let me know. If I don’t hear from you, we’ll go to the races and watch Chris.”
Lucas pocketed his phone and looked at Michael. “Find Charlotte and her backpack and meet me by the truck. I’m running next door.”
Michael nodded and Chris scampered toward the truck where Lucas had loaded his repaired bike hours earlier while Lucas crossed the familiar path to Addy’s, feeling leery about facing her again after their bad goodbye.
He knocked several times and saw the swish of the curtains before he heard the bolt in the deadlock slide. The door opened and Addy stood there in porch light, clad in sweats, looking tense.
“Hey, I know I said I wouldn’t bother you anymore, but I’m in a bit of a fix.”
Addy said nothing, lifting her eyebrows, and peering out around him as if the boogey man lurked in the bushes in the front of the house.
“I have to take Chris to his race over on the Westbank and my parents ran into traffic. Can Charlotte stay with you and Flora until they get here? Shouldn’t be more than half an hour.”
Lucas heard Charlotte behind him.
“Addy!” she screeched, running in a pair of pink high-heel slippers with crowns on them. She nearly fell, and Lucas grabbed her before she cracked her head on the porch. “You have cookies?”
Addy smiled at Charlotte before looking back up at him. “You don’t play fair, do you?”
Lucas shook his head. “She can go with me to the races, but-”
“No,” Addy interrupted, bending down to take Charlotte’s hand, “She’ll be fine here until your parents arrive.”
Charlotte beamed and held up her backpack. “Look what I got—the Creampie movie! You can watch it with me.”
“Oh, goodie, and I think Aunt Flora has some cookies in the kitchen.” Addy tugged Charlotte’s ponytail. The endearing gesture made Lucas’s stomach hurt.
Charlotte skipped into the house, clacking and stumbling, while calling for Aunt Flora.
“Thank you,” Lucas said, finding sincerity among the churning in his gut. God, she looked so beautiful… even in a pair of old sweats, her hair pulled back in a pink ribbon.
“You’re welcome,” she said, dropping her eyes.
“Okay, I gotta run. Don’t want Michael to be late for his date with Hannah.”
Addy lifted her eyebrows. “He’s got a date? He’s only thirteen.”
“Not a date-date. It’s a dance, um, a supervised dance.”
“Good for him,” Addy said, starting to close the door before Lucas reached the steps. “Tell Chris I wish him luck.”
Lucas raised a hand in acknowledgement but said nothing more. His pride still felt bruised, and it felt awkward between them.
Lucas climbed into the truck with two kids full of adrenaline and backed out of the drive, reaching for his cell to check his parents’ ETA. His mom hadn’t texted him. “Here, text Gran and tell her the neighbor has Charlotte.”
“Dude, we’re so late,” Michael said clicking his seatbelt in place and grabbing Lucas’s phone. “Hannah’s meeting me there in twenty minutes, and it’s going to take at least fifteen to get to Charlie’s house.”
“Hold on to your cajones cause I got this,” Lucas said, gunning the truck, shooting out into the narrow street, nearly hitting another truck parked across from his brother’s house. “Shit.”
“Oooh,” Chris said from the backseat. “That’s a really bad word.”
“Sorry, I’ll put ten bucks in the swear jar,” Lucas said, putting the truck in Drive and heading toward Claiborne. He needed to avoid I-10 but somehow manage to get to the Crescent City Connection. Of course, the race would have to be on the West Bank.
“We don’t have a swear jar,” Chris said.
“Well, you probably need one.” Lucas pushed the call button on his phone. “I know your Dad well enough to know you could make dime if you got one.”
Michael laughed at that one before leaving a message on his grandmother’s cell phone, telling her where to find Charlotte. Lucas stomped on the accelerator and did what he’d been doing for the past almost three weeks—ran himself ragged to accommodate his brother’s children.
Tomorrow, Ben would come home, and he’d already prepared the children for seeing their father and his injury, even though Charlotte hadn’t quite understood. But all three were looking forward to being reunited with their parents.
But was Lucas ready to face his past?
Didn’t matter because tomorrow he faced his brother and the woman who had broken his heart when she betrayed him.
Of course, he’d never expected to fall in love a second time, but Addy had proven his hypothesis about love false. It wasn’t about choosing to love. That shit just happened. And when it didn’t work out, it left a man bitter.
Not just bitter, but half-broken with no expectation of being whole for the near future. But he could heal. He’d been hurt before and found comfort in his work.
He’d make his peace with Ben, go back to Texas, and try to forget Addy Toussant.
Unfortunately, Aunt Flora had taken the cookies she’d baked to her friends at Crescent Garden that afternoon for a rousing game of bingo which left Addy trying to console a sad little moppet.
“Well, we could make our own,” Addy said as Charlotte sat at the kitchen table looking like someone had taken all her toys. She swung her little legs, causing one of her heeled slippers to clatter onto the floor.
Aunt Flora poured some milk into the little girl’s cup and spread her hands. “I’m so sorry, pumpkin. I think I have some fig cookies in the pantry.”
Addy made a face. “I tell you what, let’s put on your video in my room. I’ll let you snuggle in my fluffy blankie, and we’ll put some cookies into bake. I bought some cookie dough from Michael’s lacrosse team, and it’s still in the freezer. Sound good?”
“Okay,” Charlotte said brightening.
“She can watch it in the living room,” Flora said.
“She needs a DVD player.” Addy grabbed the backpack and took Charlotte’s hand. “Heat up the oven, and I’ll get her settled. Her grandparents should be here in a little while. Lucas said no more than half an hour.”
Leaving her aunt to start the cookies, Addy led Charlotte upstairs after urging her to take the slippers off. Last thing Addy needed was to have to make a trip to the hospital. Lucas would freak.
Addy didn’t want to think about Lucas. She needed to shut her mind down every time it wandered toward him. For the past three days, she’d been near to mourning over the way she’d ended things between them, but she just couldn’t bring herself to make it right. How did one undo a goodbye? How did she unsay what she’d blurted out?
So she’d cried in between bouts of glancing over her shoulder, triple-checking locks, and praying Robbie had gotten on with his life, leaving her behind.
But she knew he wouldn’t.
On the outside Robbie had always been unassuming, cute, and normal in a Kevin Bacon sort of way. But inside he was full-on sociopath.
And he would come for her.
Eventually.
Why would she pull Lucas into something like that? Even if she really wished she had
n’t shoved him away so hard.
“Here we go,” Addy said, entering her room behind Charlotte. She turned on the bedside lamp before lifting Charlotte onto her bed and grabbing her fluffiest throw. After finding Charlotte’s DVD in the bag, she turned on the TV, and started setting up the movie.
“Do you like Creampie? She’s my favorite,” Charlotte prattled, flopping back onto the toss pillows on Addy’s bed.
“Sure. I like the big pink bow she wears in her hair.”
“It’s not pink, it’s wed,” Charlotte said, pointing to the picture of the cat on her backpack.
“Not all the time. See?” Addy lifted the DVD case and pointed to the pink bow.
“Oh, yeah,” Charlotte said.
The doorbell rang just as Addy slid the disk into the player.
“I’ll get it,” Aunt Flora called up the stairs.
No need to put the video in now. Addy turned to tell Charlotte her grandparents were here when a strange feeling hit her.
She could hear Flora disarming the alarm as if it were in slow motion.
“No,” Addy yelled, but she knew it was too late. She could hear the door open.
She heard Flora say in a friendly voice, “Hey-”
And then she heard her aunt scream.
Oh, dear God, no.
He was here.
Fear unleashed inside Addy, rising, choking her, lurching around destroying any sanity she possessed. For a moment she was crippled and couldn’t move. Her mind flipped through every possible scenario before pausing on the truth—Robbie was downstairs and he’d already hurt Aunt Flora.
Sliding her phone from her pocket, Addy dialed 911.
“Addy! I wanna watch Creampie,” Charlotte complained.
“Shh!” Addy turned and shook her head at Charlotte, praying the little girl understood. Charlotte made a face and looked as if she might cry.
“Nine one one… what’s your emergency?” the woman on the other end of the line drawled.
“Get to 309 Orchard Street. Hurry!” Addy threw the phone onto the dresser, leaving the line on, praying the woman traced it or sent a car or something. She could hear her aunt moaning and then heard another crash. Addy felt her heart speed and adrenaline flow out to her limbs, making her arms and legs suddenly heavy. Her vision sharpened as she walked to the door and peered down the hall toward the top of the stairs.
She could lock both her and Charlotte inside her room. Momentary guilt flashed over her aunt, but she had to protect Charlotte. Maybe she could hide her in the closet…
“Addy.” His voice rose like a balloon in singsong madness. “Come out and play.”
Swallowing, Addy looked back at Charlotte.
“If you aren’t down here in five seconds, I’ll start using the old lady as a sharpening stone. Get my drift?”
Addy didn’t have time to think. She acted. Grabbing Charlotte while simultaneously slapping a hand over the wriggling child’s mouth and lifting her off the bed.
“Charlotte, there’s a bad man downstairs,” she whispered in the girl’s ear. “I want you to hide in my closet and be very, very quiet, okay? Don’t come out for anything.”
Charlotte struggled.
“Stop and do what Addy says, Charlotte,” she said, opening the door and literally dumping the girl within. Placing a finger over her mouth, she made the universal sign for being quiet.
Charlotte’s blue eyes filled with fear as she fell against Addy’s shoe boxes, but she didn’t make a noise. Addy grabbed the backpack and tossed it inside, praying the little girl understood enough to stay put. Addy knew fear sheeted off her and hoped the kid could read it.
She didn’t have much more time to think about anything else. Robbie was downstairs with her aunt… and obviously a knife. Switching off the TV, she searched the room for a weapon. Her pepper spray was in the kitchen. She’d shown Chris her wooden bat last Sunday when they’d washed her car because he’d wanted to see the Louisville Slugger her baseball coach brother had brought her from his trip to the factory. Why hadn’t she placed it back under her bed?
Addy would have to face Robbie with only her wits as a defense.
“Addy!” This time no singsong. Anger. “Get your ass down here or I stick the old lady.”
Addy walked down the stairs, fear her companion but somehow oddly calm about what she needed to do. Stay between him and Charlotte. Protect Flora as best she could.
She’d made it halfway down, when she saw him. Her knees nearly buckled.
“Ah, there’s my brown-eyed girl. Daddy’s home, punkin.’”
Bile rose in Addy’s throat and she closed her eyes for a brief moment, her breath coming fast. She gulped in air and opened her eyes. “Robbie.”
“Yeah, Robbie. Who’d ya think?” He looked different. Older. Heavier. Different. But just as sick.
Swallowing, she forced nonchalance. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to come say hello, didn’t I?” His smile reminded her of the Jack Nicholson character in The Shining. The cheese was off the cracker.
Stay calm.
“Yeah, I heard you got out, but I figured you’d be ready to get on with your life.”
“Did ya? Well, I am. And guess what? It starts with you, so get your ass down here,” he said, fury glowing in his lurid eyes. He held a large hunting knife and he gestured with it. “Come to me. Now.”
Addy didn’t want to go, but she could see Aunt Flora’s legs out of the corner of her eye. She stepped down slowly, noting her aunt lay motionless and the small marble table just inside the living room had been knocked to the floor. He’d likely shoved her aunt. Flora wasn’t moving. A vise squeezed Addy’s heart, and she prayed her aunt was merely unconscious.
Robbie wore camouflage pants, a black T-shirt, and work boots. A scruffy goatee and bald head made him nothing like the man she’d once had a crush on. No boyishness or cunning charm. Prison had razor-sharpened his edges and eaten away at his mental stability.
“So you thought I’d get out and just forget about you?” He tsked, moving toward her, shaking his head like a father when facing a recalcitrant teen. Behind him the red light of the alarm system blinked, silently mocking her.
She’d never been safe. What a fool she’d been.
Motionless, she stood at the base of the stairs as Robbie walked, almost leisurely her way. “Of course I thought you would forget about me. You have a life to live, after all.”
He smiled then, lifting the knife so he could study his reflection in the shininess of the blade. He addressed the knife, “My little brown-eyed Susan thought I’d forgotten her. Isn’t that sad?”
Addy took a ragged breath, sensing the direness of the situation. He was going to hurt her. Badly. No common sense approach was going to work. Panic welled inside her, but she beat it back, listening to her internals, remembering that remaining calm and focused was her best chance of saving herself.
Of saving Charlotte.
He moved closer, his nostrils widening as he inhaled her scent. Addy’s heart slammed against her ribs and her legs felt rubbery, but she remained a statue, refusing to scurry from him.
She needed to move him away from where he might hear Charlotte, perhaps back into the depths of the living room. Or the kitchen where her pepper spray hung near the phone.
“You look well,” she managed to say, controlling her breathing which threatened to gallop out of control. “Would you like a drink? I have some beer in the fridge.”
His crazy laughter made her knees buckle.
Addy slid toward the kitchen door, holding out a trembling hand in invitation. “You like Miller Lite if I recall.”
“Yeah, you like it in the kitchen, don’t cha?” His smile wasn’t pretty… wasn’t even close.
Shaking, she turned her back to him, closing her eyes as if she could wish this all away. She needed to buy time, protect Charlotte, and keep Robbie from escalating the violence.
She entered the kitchen, glancing around fo
r a weapon, but Robbie grabbed her elbow. “Don’t get any ideas like last time.”
He shoved her sleeve up, revealing the scars, tracing them with the handle of the knife. “Yeah, last time didn’t go so well for you, did it?”
“It landed you in prison,” she said, jerking away.
An explosion of a million stars and then the floor rushed up to meet her. Addy fell hard, her head thumping against the tile. She scrabbled on all fours trying to get away from him. He grown stronger in prison, and the smack he’d given her made her face throb.
He reached for her, pulling her back to standing.
Addy cradled her cheek and glared at him, trying not to cry out, refusing to give him that pleasure.
Robbie backed her against the counter, his entire body pressing against hers. She could smell his cologne mixed with sweat. And felt his rage. Reaching behind her, she clutched the edge of the granite.
He moved his face close to hers. “Now see what you did? Reminding me of all the years I wasted in prison? You really should shut up and get me that beer.”
He lifted a hand and caressed her cheek, and she felt his breath on her neck as she turned her head. Hot lips slid against the cheek he’d hit.
“I’m just kissin’ it better,” he whispered.
Bile churned in her stomach.
“Oh, sweet Addy, I missed you. Feel how much.” He ground his groin against her, his erection evident. The panic she’d held at bay broke loose, rampaging inside her.
“Robbie, please,” she moaned, pleading with him despite her resolve to remain calm.
“Oh, you want it now, darlin’? Cause I love when you say my name.” He ground against her again.
He was going to rape her that was assured, and he’d probably kill her. She’d seen that homicidal rage in his dark eyes. She wedged a hand between them and pushed. “Stop.”
Robbie looked down and laughed before running the flat of the knife’s blade over her exposed collar bone. “Ah, yeah, I like this kind of foreplay, Addy. I’ve been waiting so long for you. I want to savor every second.” He snapped his teeth at her like a dog.
Out of the corner of her eye, Addy saw Charlotte.
Oh, shit.
No, no, no.
