Wallflowers: One Heart Remains

by CP Smith

  “I need the keys to your car,” Nate said.

  Cali had laid them on the kitchen counter when we arrived last night, so I walked over and grabbed them.

  Knox took that opportunity to approach me. “We need to talk,” he mumbled.

  We did need to talk, but I wasn’t ready. “How did you find me?” The question was an accusation.

  Knox looked over his shoulder. I followed the direction they were pointed at to find Nate glaring daggers at him. “I have contacts in law enforcement. They notified me when your name pinged in association with the kidnapping attempt.”

  I blinked. “You have my name bein’ watched?”

  His eyes softened to a warmth I’d never seen, and I could almost believe he loved me. “Since you were a baby. I couldn’t make it back here to check on you but every couple of months, so I have your names flagged. It sends me an alert if either your or Shirley’s name is associated with a crime.”

  A knot formed in my throat. If I’d told my aunt the moment I’d been molested, Knox might have come for me and taken me away. A burning heat coiled in my stomach. I couldn’t speak to answer, so I nodded and tried to leave his side. Knox grabbed my hand to stop me. I couldn’t look at him. I blamed him—and myself—for what happened to that little girl. “Poppy, I fucked up. I know that. But at the time, all I could think about was keeping you safe. And the only way to do that was to keep my distance.”

  Tremors begin to wrack my body, so I tugged my hand from his. “I called out for you every night until I was ten.” I didn’t wait for his reply, there was nothing he could say that could heal my fractured heart, so I headed straight for Nate. For the promise of his strength. He curled me into his side and we walked out the front door where Bernice, the Wallflowers, Bo, Devin, and Eunice and Odis Lee waited for Nate and me. This was my family now. I didn’t need Knox in my life wreaking chaos. The pain of my past had crippled me for far too long.

  My attention caught on Sienna as we walked through the door. She was looking over my shoulder, so I turned. Knox was there with a determined expression. He smiled at her and even I could see the love on his face. I looked back expecting to see indifference in her expression, but her brown eyes were smiling back at Knox. Jealousy settled in my gut, hard and fast. I wanted to be able to look at him with openness and warmth. Wanted to feel the love he’d sent her direction.

  “Let’s head out,” Bo ordered.

  I tore my eyes off my sister. One by one we made our way down to the vehicles. All I could think about as Nate handed me into the passenger side of my car was if I’d written the past two days into the plot of a book, reviewers would complain that all that had happened was unrealistic.

  Case in point. Trope number 1) My father returned after abandoning me. 2) An aunt pretending to be my dead mother. 3) A dead mother, for crying out loud. 4) A grandfather who may have killed said mother was an MC president. 5) A sister who was already my best friend. 6) The handsome Neanderthal-slash-bar owner vowing I was his. And let’s not forget 7) The abused heroine who stopped an attempted kidnapping with her friends’ help, thrusting her and said friends into the public eye. No doubt causing even more turmoil for the band of Wallflowers, who were only looking for love. And a good book!

  “And they all drank green magic fairy potion. The end,” I mumbled, putting on my seat belt, hoping the end of this particular story had run its course. Unfortunately, where my friends and I were concerned, it was probably a big fat no. “Oh, my God. I bet there’ll be an extended epilogue or bonus scene to this story!”

  Adrenaline surged again, so I curled my fingers into a fist and dug my nails into my palm to stop the panic.

  “Kitten,” Nate whispered in my ear, causing me to jump, “breathe for Christ’s sake.”

  Lordy, he could see right through me.

  I rounded on him and sucked in a needed breath. Nate’s huge body filled my car, assaulting my senses. How had I gotten here? I was supposed to be hiding from this man, not vowing to hold off running while he tried to fix what was broken.

  “I can’t breathe,” I whooshed out, because there wasn’t enough air inside my car. I was terrified of what I’d done, so I babbled on to hide my fear. “This plot we’re in is barely outlined. Anything could happen as the characters grow and change. In the past two weeks, we’ve had dead bodies and imprisonment in a cave. Now I have a dead mother, a sister, and a father who’s returned.” I still had trouble wrapping my head around the fact my grandfather killed my mother. She didn’t seem real to me, and I felt like the worst daughter in the world that I hadn’t immediately wanted to know more about her. “Don’t you see?” I sallied forth to distract my own head from my craptaculous life. “Outlines are worthless. We’re pantsers at this point! What’s next?”

  Anger clouded his eyes for a moment. “A fuckin’ happily ever after if I have anything to say about it.” It barely registered that he understood a word of that cock-and-bull story.

  I shook my head slowly and turned back to look out the window. Men were so clueless. You don’t get to the happily ever after until all parties have overcome their past, and you’ve defeated all the bad guys. Since I couldn’t move forward without twenty years of therapy—and the bad guys are still out there—I knew more was coming before happily ever after was even a blip on the horizon.

  _______________

  My mouth hung open as we pulled up to the Chatham County Sheriff’s Department. The red brick building was surrounded by scores of media trucks blocking the street, making it impossible for traffic to move. Reporters of every shape and size gathered on the lawn, waiting to antagonize officers and those who left the building, hoping for a meaty newsclip that would raise their stations’ ratings. It looked as if every news agency in the state had taken up residence on the lawn. There were at least a hundred news-crazed faces staring at the front entrance.

  At least they weren’t looking at us.

  Even though Bo had informed Moore about the extent of our involvement in the attempted kidnapping, while they’d rescued Senator Ryan Scott and his family, they still needed our official statements for their records. Considering the man who’d tried to abduct Rachel was wearing a mask, my statement would only take a minute. I’d searched my memory banks on the drive back to Savannah and came up with the same thing: it was too dark for identification. He was wearing a black or dark blue mask, so I couldn’t see his face. He was taller than me, but who wasn’t when I only stood five foot three on a good day. And he was strong if the bruise on my jaw was any indicator. That was it. I would have called in my statement if they’d let me—and I hadn’t tossed my cell into the Savannah River—to avoid the hungry vultures, circling on the lawn, who were looking for a carcass to pick at.

  “Please tell me there’s a back entrance we can use.”

  Nate’s grim face said it all. We had to get through that hostile crowd and pray they weren’t allowed inside the station.

  A knock on the driver’s side window drew our attention. Bo was standing there, his attention trained on the crowd of reporters. “We’re goin’ in as a group. If we try and go in separately, it’ll just take longer. Girls in the middle,” he ordered when Nate rolled down his window. “Bernice will go first with Eunice and Odis Lee, in hopes they’ll draw attention away from the girls. Knox will follow as a backup if they need him. Once the crowd has zeroed in on them, we’re gonna try and sneak past.”

  I clenched my teeth at the idea that Knox thought he could step into my life and try to protect me now. I didn’t need him. Not anymore. Not ever!

  I glanced out my side mirror as Bernice walked past like she owned the world, drawing the reporters’ attention. Eunice followed her with a very protective Odis Lee planted to her side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, and Knox in the rear as the questions began to fly. That was our cue to make a break for it, so I crawled out of my car and waited until Cali and Sienna were standing behind me. Nate took the front—since he was huge and had a scowl that wo
uld make most people run for the hills—blocking me from view, while Bo and Devin took up the rear. And then we were off. I grabbed the back of Nate’s shirt and held on tight as questions began to swallow the sounds of traffic. Our decoy hadn’t worked, and it was shocking how much the reporters already knew about us in such a short amount of time.

  “Calla Armstrong!” one shouted. “Are you having an affair with Senator Scott? Is that why you were outside when Rachel Scott was abducted?”

  “No comment,” Cali called out like a pro, but I was positive I heard Devin growl at the question.

  “Sienna Miller!” another began. “Are you relieved that no charges will be brought against you, Miss Gentry, and Miss Armstrong in the death of Jennifer Craig?”

  I almost stumbled when I heard that question but kept walking. How in the heck had they found out so much about us? I made a mental note to Google search Wallflowers. To make sure we didn’t have a Wikipedia page with all our vital statics listed.

  Sienna imitated Cali’s response with a brisk, “No comment.”

  “Are we almost there?” I asked Nate, not sure he could hear me over the roar of the reporters. He didn’t answer, but his step faltered when I heard a woman call out, “Nate?”

  He kept walking, but he turned back to look over his shoulder and looked stunned, so I turned as well and tried to see who he was looking at. I caught sight of a stunning redhead with a microphone in her hand. She looked as shocked to see Nate as she was beautiful. I knew immediately she had been someone to him at one time. Knew when her eyes locked with mine and saw the way I was holding onto his shirt as he protected me from the crowd; she was jealous. And I had an irrational, sinking feeling that because he’d glanced back over his shoulder at her for a second look, I’d already lost him.

  And that made trope number 8) A second chance romance. The love of his life comes back into the picture after leaving him high and dry. And the woman he is currently involved with is left devastated, spending the rest of her days with Ben and Jerry, vowing she and Cherry Garcia would live happily ever after because at least ice cream would never cheat on you.

  I should have stuck with my plan. Should have never given in to the idea I might be able to have something with Nate. Who could compete with long legs and flowing red hair when all you had to offer a man like Nate was a past he’d have to save me from?

  With that crushing thought, I let go of his shirt without thinking and got swallowed up by a crowd of reporters.

  The moment I couldn’t see Nate, it was as if he was truly lost to me, and it made me panic. We’d only had a few hours of being Nate and Poppy, the couple, and I already missed it. At some point, I’d convinced myself even though he said he’d fix what ailed me, he wouldn’t really stick around. Because that’s what all men did. But, in the face of a redhead with ample boobs, long legs, and ruby red lips none of that seemed to matter. The hope I’d felt a few hours before, though fleeting, was immediately replaced with something much deeper. The green-eyed monster of jealousy. Nate was mine, dangit. No red-lipped hussy was gonna take him from me when I could run him off all on my own.

  I snapped out of my head when the crowd began pushing at me, comments flying around like bees on a mission. I started to push back, looking over the tops of their heads for Nate. He towered over everyone, so I could see he was fighting his way back to me. I pushed again, the alarm of losing him had turned into claustrophobia. I couldn’t breathe with all the bodies and microphones in my face.

  One microphone, in particular, came closer than the others. And the hand that held it had red nails to match her red lips. I shoved it back, feeling my panic rise. I didn’t want to lose it in front of the cameras—in front of her.

  I searched the crowd for Nate again and our eyes locked. Nate’s anger intensified when I reached my hand over the top of a reporter, pleading him to get me out of there.

  “Fuckin’ move,” Nate roared when I was swallowed up again. I could feel Cali and Sienna at my back being pushed and shoved as well. Bo and Devin were cursing softly as they tried to protect them, shoving microphones out of their faces as well. Panic flared when it seemed impossible to take a breath, and then that stupid microphone with red nails attached to it was shoved in my face. Again!

  “Miss Gentry, are you in a relationship with Nate Jacobs?” Of all the questions being thrown out about an attempted kidnapping, this was the one she led with? If the look she’d shot me when she saw me hanging onto Nate hadn’t clued me in, that question would have. She wanted Nate.

  My anxiety shot through the roof as the noise, the crowd, even the attempted kidnapping and reemergence of my father. It all coupled together with the fear that some Jessica Rabbit come to life would try to steal my man—and I lost it. I needed out of there, and the only way that would happen was if I fought my way out, so clenched my fist and swung.

  And connected.

  Six

  NO COMMENT

  I GUESS I REALLY WAS A BIKER babe princess, because my aim had been a thing of beauty. One second I’d been panicking, trying to breathe, and the next I’d laid Jessica Rabbit on her pert behind while blood spilled from her perfect nose. Before I could even feel the pain that shot up my hand from the blow, Nate had barreled through the crowd like a bull, literally tossing men aside, then bent at the waist and threw me over his shoulder. He’d briefly looked down at Little Miss Reporter before pushing through the crowd—strong-arming would be more accurate—while they stood shocked at the turn of events. I’d watched from my perch on Nate’s shoulder when Devin gave Jessica Rabbit a hand up with a smile, before tossing Cali over his shoulder and following in Nate’s wake. I had no doubt there would be a video of the punch and heroic rescue on YouTube before the hour was out, if the number of cameras pointed our direction was any indicator.

  When Nate had cleared security and set me on my feet, he was smiling instead of pissed. I’d expected a reprimand for letting go of his shirt, or bruising his precious Jessica Rabbit, but I’d gotten a swift kiss on the lips instead. Apparently, he found it hilarious I’d laid out his second chance love story, so I’d quickly edited my tropes. Number eight now read, 8) Evil reporter tries to steal hero while discrediting heroine. Live at Five. I also added a comment in the side notes that stated character arc would be adjusted as new developments came in.

  Turning my head, I looked across the lobby of the Chatham County Sheriff’s Department and bit my thumbnail as my foot bounced. “Do you think they’ll arrest me for strikin’ a member of the press?”

  “Not if Nate and the boys have anything to say about it,” Sienna mumbled, watching as our men walked over to glare, growl, or possibly threaten (Nate) one redheaded reporter into submission.

  Cali leaned forward and glanced in the direction of Jessica Rabbit, also known—thanks to Cali’s interrogation of Devin—as Natalie Rhodes, Fox 28’s newest street reporter. She had an ice pack on her nose and her eyes were already beginning to bruise. Two deputies were giving her the first-class treatment, as men want to do when faced with long legs and big boobs.

  She’d pounded on the lobby door after they’d closed it behind us. Seeing the blood running down her face, they’d opened it and let her in, then rushed around and administered first aid. Her eyes had kept traveling back to our group as the two deputies asked her what happened, but she hadn’t answered them yet. Nate didn’t like it, Bo was suspicious, and Devin kept rolling his eyes every time one of the deputies tripped over themselves to help her stand. Since my freedom hung in the balance, they all decide to head her off at the pass.

  Nate, Bo, Devin, and even Knox stopped in front of her with their arms crossed at their chests. With all the cameras around, I couldn’t exactly plead not guilty.

  But instead of intimidating her with their man scowls, Natalie seemed to take this as an invitation to flirt. And flirt she did. She batted her lashes and giggled at our men, while they tried to glare her into backing down.

  “If she giggles one more tim
e at Devin, she’s gonna get a fat lip to go with her broken nose,” Cali whispered, but apparently not low enough. Devin heard her and turned back to wink at Cali.

  “What did Devin say about her?” Sienna asked under her breath. “That they knew her from college?”

  My eyes slid to Cali when Natalie laughed at something then reached out and squeezed Devin’s arm. He stepped back out of her reach, pulling her hand from his arm, but Cali’s jaw clenched in response. I grabbed her hand and held on for support. “Breathe,” I mumbled. “Tell us what he said.”

  “Devin said she was three years behind him and Nate,” she bit out, her laser focus on the scene across the room. “That she wrote on the school paper. She hounded them for an interview after they investigated a stolen test, and after weeks of tryin’ to avoid her, they finally relented so she’d leave them alone. Then she decided she’d adopt them as big brothers and followed them everywhere. He said they haven’t seen her since they graduated, and they barely recognized her. Said she used to be mousy and slightly plump with dishwater blonde hair.”

  All three of us turned our eyes on the woman. Natalie had gone from plump and mousy to Emma Stone since they’d seen her. “Did he say if she annoyed them or if they liked her?” I asked.

  “Devin didn’t say, but he did say neither he nor Nate thought she’d make it as a journalist because she didn’t have a killer instinct.”

  Natalie tried flirting with Bo next. He asked if she intended to press charges, and instead of answering, she threw her head back and laughed in a husky voice that would invite any man to sidle up to her, so he could engage her in talk.

  Bo didn’t respond though. He was a man who dealt with dangerous criminals daily, he wasn’t easily swayed by a pretty face, so he dropped his head in frustration instead. “Is it cyanide that isn’t detectable by the police?” Sienna mumbled.

  I bugged out my eyes at Cali. “Um, Sister. Try to keep your murder plots to yourself.”