Seeking Sanctuary_A Shelter Me Novel

by Annie Anderson

  I told him I might not stay.

  I told Levi I was going to go. All because my pride was stung. All because someone looked at Cole’s handiwork again and wanted to know who had done that to me and I’d felt guilty all over again.

  I stomped toward the diner where my Explorer was still parked, beeped the lock and slid in, heedless of the few patrons milling about on the sidewalk. I didn’t look at them, even though they likely looked at me. I jammed my key in the ignition, starting the SUV but not putting it in drive. Instead, I rested my forehead on the steering wheel and willed my eyes to not leak and my body to not poop out on me.

  I’d gotten so comfortable ordering Levi around in that office. It felt good to do honest work and to see the results of it in real time. More often than not, I was on my own, and I wondered how much Cole and his family stole from other people. I wondered if this was the first time or was it just the first time I noticed. And if it was the first time I noticed, what kind of an accountant did that make me?

  What kind of person did that make me?

  Here in this small town with honest people, where did I fit? And if I didn’t fit now, could I make myself into something that wouldn’t taint others with the things I’d done? With the life I took? Could I lie to these people? Could I stand next to them every day and never let them know who I was?

  Or would this be the one chance I had to start over? For me and the baby. With good people and a steady job and maybe a nice place to live that didn’t cost a mint. I could be anyone here. I didn’t have to be the girl who’d lost everything.

  I didn’t have to be the girl no one wanted.

  I didn’t have to be the girl who let history repeat itself all over my face.

  I could be a nobody from nowhere and make it up as I went.

  Couldn’t I?

  The sharp rapping at my driver-side window gut-checked me out of my musings and yanked a gasp from my lips. The sound of a ring on glass brought back so many horrible thoughts I didn’t want, and it took a long minute before I could turn my head to the source of my panic.

  On the other side of the glass was a face I didn’t ever want to see again, and not because I was jealous. Nope. That petty, confusing thought did not pass through my brain at all. How could I be jealous of an evil-she beast who just so happened to have seen Levi naked?

  Yeah, I wasn’t fooling myself even a little.

  Pippa’s face was screwed up in a haughty look that just screamed that this could turn into a shit show of a situation real quick.

  Yes, Universe, this was exactly what I needed.

  I fought the urge to flip her off and speed away in a cloud of burning rubber. Instead, I jabbed my finger on the window button a prayed to whatever deity that controlled bitchdom to send Pippa on her way. Today was not the day, and I was not the one.

  “Yes?” I asked when she didn’t say anything after a few seconds.

  “I know about you,” she accused, her arms crossed over an ample chest and I just knew she had a foot turned out in the universal throw-down stance of womanhood.

  “Doubtful, but okay. And?” I volleyed back.

  “A woman like you needs to stay away from Levi. He doesn’t need your kind in his shop.”

  My kind? What was this, 1959? I was a domestic violence victim, not a goddamn leper. But also… Fuck. This. Bitch.

  “And in what world do you have a say in who he does or does not hire? I don’t know what you think you know, but I’m here to live a quiet life. Whatever drama you have with Levi is none of my business. I’d prefer you’d keep it that way.”

  There. Short and to the point. It didn’t really matter that she saw him naked and probably had mind-blowing sex with the man. I wasn’t gonna. She could win that round.

  “Right, and your skanky ass didn’t sleep with him to get that job,” she sneered.

  Of all the delusional women on this earth, why did this one have to start fucking with me?

  “As a matter of fact, I blew him in the middle of Connie’s diner. Constance watched. Gave me a nine point five scoring and everything. I’m really quite proud,” I deadpanned.

  She looked shocked for a moment until my sarcasm filtered through the battered hamster wheel of her brain. Then her dumbfounded face twisted into a scowl.

  “Of course I didn’t sleep with him, you fucking idiot. I’m an accountant, and he needed one. Not to fuck, in case you’re wondering, but to do the books to make sure his business actually stays in business.”

  Why I felt the need to explain myself to this woman, I had no idea.

  “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” she snarled, reaching past the threshold of my downed window. Her fingers nearly closed on the lapel of my jean jacket when a deep voice stopped her.

  “We got a problem here?” The voice was authoritative and gravelly, resonate in a way that shook me, and I looked past Pippa’s shoulder to see the tan uniform shirt of a police officer.

  The uniform shirt was atop a pair dark wash jeans, a thick, dark brown leather utility belt filled with all the policeman paraphernalia, and a pair of well cared for work boots. I saw the gun and badge first, though, and it made me almost miss his face.

  Almost, but not quite.

  If he weren’t carrying that badge and if I weren’t likely a wanted woman, I might have confused him for a model. As it stood, I was nearly struck dumb at the bearded jaw and artfully messy black hair bookending a pair of cheekbones a model would shank someone for just under coffee brown eyes that seemed to pierce Pippa where she stood.

  I was just lucky those eyes weren’t pinning me. Some people have that look about them that said they knew all your secrets, knew exactly where the bodies were buried, and hell, probably knew you stole that pack of Skittles when you were four, even though you gave them back because you felt too guilty.

  I’m guessing.

  Okay, I stole the damn Skittles. It was not my finest moment.

  Needless to say, I was spooked. I didn’t think I had call to be spooked, what with the new identification and car, but all the shit with Levi and Graham didn’t help. I was too worked up over Graham’s reaction, too raw from Levi’s kindness, too on edge from Pippa’s incessant belief that I was somehow encroaching on her territory.

  “Of course not, Orin. We’re simply having a friendly conversation between us girls. Isn’t that right?” Pippa asked me, widening her eyes at me like I’d back her crazy ass up.

  Was she high? Hell, probably.

  “If you mean harassment instead of ‘friendly conversation’ then, sure. But I’m fine, officer, Pippa was just leaving.”

  His eyes flicked from her to me and back again, narrowing in an assessing way that held threat and censure.

  I needed to get the hell out of here.

  “You heard the lady, be on your way. And do try not to accost any more people in your quest to get back into Levi’s pants. Hopefully, for all our sakes, he’s smartened up.”

  “Fuck you, Orin,” Pippa spat, turning on her obnoxiously high heel and stomping off. I wasn’t sure Levi had it right. His former bookkeeper Marla was not the Anti-Christ. Or maybe she was, and Pippa was just the Devil herself.

  “Not for all the whiskey in the world,” Officer Orin muttered to himself which would have been funny as fuck, but he leveled me with one of those piercing looks. No wonder he was a police officer – he could get evildoers to stop in their tracks with one glance.

  “Thanks for the help, Officer,” I offered and began rolling up my window.

  “Now wait just a minute. I want to talk about what happened to you.”

  Oh, not this again. What was with this freaking town?

  “Of course, you do,” I muttered. Again, I contemplated speeding off without another word but figured it might put me more at risk.

  “Look, I know enough about situations like yours that this might fall on deaf ears, but I’m going to say it anyway because it’s my job to try, okay? You can come into the station at any time
– day or night – to file a report. We can get you the protection you need.”

  His eyes and voice were kind – too kind. They grated at me in a way that had more than a little shame leeching all of my fight. He was a relatively nice guy doing his job. But he needed to go away.

  “The person who did this is a little out of your jurisdiction, Officer,” I volleyed back.

  In more ways than one.

  “It’s Deputy, actually, but that isn’t an issue. Even if he doesn’t live here, if you do, and file a report, we can keep an eye out for you. If you have any police reports from other counties or states, we can contact that precinct to get the info for our files.”

  I felt stupid and ashamed all over again. I never told. Not the cops. Not Smitty. I didn’t tell anyone what Cole was doing to me. I didn’t protect myself the way I should have and now…

  Now, I was a killer.

  “There aren’t any. Police reports, that is,” I grated out, my voice clogged with the shame of it all.

  “That’s okay. We can still make one if you want to,” he offered. With each volley, he’d gotten closer to my car, inching toward me like I was a frightened horse ready to bolt. Maybe I was. But Deputy Orin was leaning on my driver side door, his forearms flush with the window ledge as he brought himself down to my level.

  And I was shaking.

  With the shame of my own ignorance, with the hurt of everything that had happened. With every single person’s concern. I just couldn’t take it. Hell, I couldn’t even look at him even though he was barely a foot away.

  “I don’t. I’m fine here. I’m safe. Thank you for your concern,” I clipped, my eyes facing forward, jaw set. My fingers gripped the steering wheel hard enough that my knuckles turned white.

  “That’s okay too. But you call us if you need any help, that sound okay?” he asked, his tone was part defeated and part soothing as he offered me a business card with the Jefferson County sheriff’s emblem on it.

  “Sure thing,” I murmured, pulling the cardstock from in between his first and second finger.

  “You have a nice evening, ma’am,” he murmured, softly rapping two knuckles on my driver side door and lifting off of it to be on his way.

  Not fucking likely.

  8

  LEVI

  At five to eight the next morning, I had a sinking feeling that I wasn’t going to see Isla ever again. Yesterday’s rocky ending probably sent her off to a new town, a bigger one, where too-busy people would let their eyes just slide past her battered face. They would ignore it or shame her for it. She would be alone, and after knowing her less than a day, Isla being alone in the world seemed like the worst thing I could think of.

  At three to eight, I gave up on watching the door and popped my head in the garage to yell that I was stepping out. What I thought I was going to do was anyone’s guess. Hunt her down? Throw her over my shoulder and make her work? Yeah, I was likely being a dumb fuck, but my dumb fuck ass was going to go look for her.

  “You just got here. What, did you leave your maxi pads at home?” Graham rumbled from underneath Mrs. Peterson’s 1978 Buick Skylark.

  Lord knows what he was repairing, and at this rate, he’d almost replaced everything there was to replace on it. I’d bet my left nut she wouldn’t get rid of that car until Graham pronounced it DOA, and Graham wouldn’t do that until Buick quit making parts or he couldn’t get a metalsmith to remake discontinued ones. Mrs. Maggie Peterson was eighty if she was a day, and that Buick was a gift from her late husband.

  Maggie and Jacob Peterson were the family to take Graham under their wing when Graham’s mother chose her husband over her kid.

  “Hey, cut that out. If we have Isla working here, you can’t say dumb shit like that.”

  “My apologies. I’ll rephrase. Did you leave your Depends at home then?”

  Fucking jackass. “Dick. I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure thing, boss, but you need to work on your comebacks. That was just pitiful,” Graham drawled from beneath the Buick.

  I pulled my head back into the office only to stop short when I saw Isla leaning on the office door jam, covering her mouth to hold in the snickers.

  Like yesterday, she was dressed in what I would call hippy chic – light chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled up, long flowy pinkish-orange skirt, wide brown leather belt, strappy flat sandals, and enough necklaces and bracelets to sink the Titanic. The beads and charms on the bracelets jingled as she crossed her arms over her chest, and her giggles subsided as her expression grew concerned.

  “So are you having a light day or a heavy flow? I think I have some chocolate in my purse if you want it,” Isla teased through a giggle.

  “Y'all are a bunch of assholes. I was afraid you weren’t coming,” I admitted as I studied her face.

  Either she had gone light with her makeup or the purple of her bruising was slightly worse today. After healing from a broken nose more than once in my life, I knew the recovery had only just started. Bruises always look worse before they got better. My only solace was that the cut on her lip and cheek were looking slightly improved.

  “I said I would, and I keep my promises. Now, are you going to go work on some cars to keep this place flush or are you going to babysit me all day?” she asked brushing me off.

  “You think you got it?”

  “I’m pretty sure I can finish cleaning up this mess on my own. Answering the phone will just be icing on the cake,” she shrugged, but the smile she aimed my way was brittle.

  The slightly intelligent part of my brain told me to back the fuck off, and for the first time in a while, I actually listened.

  “Good, then I’ll get out of your hair. If you need anything just yell,” I offered and got the hell out of there.

  The last thing I wanted was for her to rabbit on me.

  * * *

  I was staring at the office door when an air filter glanced off my forehead.

  “What the fuck?” I muttered, turning my attention back to the source of the flying filter, Graham. Him, along with my two other mechanics, Ben and Carl, looked at me like I’d lost my damn mind.

  Okay, I was worried. Isla hadn’t so much as made a peep since I’d started working in the shop three hours ago.

  “If you stare any harder at that door, you will incinerate it with those laser beams you call eyes and burn the whole place down,” Graham grumbled. “I’ve been cleaning up your messes all goddamn day, man. Could you, perchance, keep your head in the game so we can actually be done on time for once? Isla has the office handled. She’s good. I checked on her thirty minutes ago. She’s fine.”

  A pinching sensation in my chest eased for a second, and I wondered how in the hell he checked on her without me noticing.

  Not important.

  “Fine. I’ll get back to work,” I groused, refocusing my attention on the Subaru I was supposed to be working on.

  “Focused on the work this time, wouldja?” Graham pleaded.

  “I am.”

  “Really? You’re focused?”

  “Yes!” I said, exasperated.

  “You’re supposed to be replacing the catalytic converter on that Subie, and you’ve been staring at the engine for thirty minutes in between taking furtive glances at the office door. Just in case you weren’t sure, the catalytic converter is under the car. You, sir, are not under the car,” Graham informed me, his eyebrows raised. “This is after you tried to put the wrong weight of synthetic in Mrs. Jones’ Jeep, and over torqued three bolts on the intake manifold of Mr. Nelson’s Silverado. Maybe you should go to lunch and let us handle this until your head is on straight.”

  He was right. I did do all that. I needed a kick in the ass. A swift one. But to do that, I needed to check on Isla.

  “So I’m going to ask Isla if she wants to go to an early lunch, and then we’ll come back, and I won’t be such a shithead. Deal?”

  “Thank God,” Ben piped in, his grizzly face upturned to the ceiling as
if he were really praying. Carl was right beside him just shaking his head and trying not to laugh.

  The dicks.

  I sat down the socket wrench I still had a loose hold on and did a double take. I was about to use a standard sized when I should have been using the metric.

  Jesus, I needed to get a grip.

  ISLA

  I was a third of the way through balancing February’s payables and receivables when Levi popped his head in the office. It was the first time he’d done so today, but I knew it was coming. He’d either been staring through the large picture window in the west wall that separated the office and garage, or he’d been looking at the office door like he wanted to set it on fire.

  I didn’t really know if it was because he thought I would bolt and leave him high and dry or if he was actually angry I joined in on the teasing Graham was dishing out. Cole never liked that – me joking at his expense.

  And why I was comparing Levi to Cole made zero sense either.

  “How do you feel about an early lunch?” Levi asked, and my belly took that opportunity to answer him with a whale song of a growl. I’d been so focused on tuning out the heat of Levi’s stare through the window that I’d poured myself into getting his accounts in line. I’d had to go all the way back to January of last year to get a total that was even close to right and work my way on down the line.

  Levi wasn’t kidding. Marla, the girl who came before me, might not have known how to properly add and subtract. I’d wanted to rip my hair out all morning.

  “Does that belly growl mean yes?”

  “I’m starving, actually.”

  “Then, let’s go.”

  The walk to the main drag was short and quiet. Not the awkward silence that could arise from not knowing the person you were walking with, but the content sort of companionship that comes from gorgeous weather, a short walk, and an even more gorgeous man.