In the five minutes it took to get into town, I swung from sadness to anger. Anger at myself for not believing him. For falling back into the old habit of assuming no one noticed me. Anger at him for giving up. Like he’d been looking for a reason to end it, and my foolish jealousy had given him the out he needed.
That thought struck me like a boot to the chest, doubling me over so that I needed the handle on the shopping cart to stay upright. He’d jumped to the worst-case scenario far too quickly for that to have been the first time he’d thought of it. I stood in the produce section, blinking at a mound of broccoli as everything slowly fell into place. His distance. Going out to bars without me. The stupid risks to piss me off and start a fight. He’d been angling for a way out and like an idiot I’d walked right into it.
I felt so low that it made sense to see her there, only five feet away from me. Her shining blonde hair, her startlingly pretty face. Of course. Of course Noelle St. Lucia was right here in Royal Groceries almost a week later. Why not?
She stiffened when she became aware of a person staring at her and looked up slowly. Then she executed a perfect double take. “You’re Gabe’s—”
“Not anymore,” I finished for her.
Her mouth fell open like she was about to say something, but she caught herself and looked down. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said formally.
Of all the absurd things that had happened in my life, running into my ex’s famous ex in the produce section of a small-town grocery store had to be the strangest. “What are you doing here?”
She sighed and smiled, and it was so arresting that I almost smiled with her. “I…I didn’t think I’d find him so quickly, so I booked a place for...” She glanced up at me with a new light in her eyes. “You said you guys aren’t together anymore?”
Hot anger spilled into my veins. “Yeah. I hear the same about you guys,” I snapped.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “That was a bitchy thing to ask.”
I studied her. She was everything I’d ever taught myself to hate and resent, but I couldn’t muster those feelings about her. Not when she looked so sad. As I watched, a tear slipped silently down her cheek and she sniffed.
I took a deep breath. Then reached into my purse.
When I handed her the tissue, she seemed startled by it, like she thought I might be handing her a live scorpion or something.
“You need to move on,” I said.
She looked up sharply. “You have no idea what—”
“No, I don’t,” I interrupted. “But I know Gabe, or at least I thought I did. And right now, all I want to do is to tell you to back off because he’s mine, but he’s not. Not anymore. So maybe I’m telling you to move on because I need to do the same thing.”
Noelle nodded and let out a long, angry sigh. “I’m still hanging around here. How pathetic is that? I actually thought maybe I’d run into him here, or maybe one of his brothers.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “It figures I’d run into you.”
I sniffed in amusement. “When I saw you here, I figured it was about right for how my week was going.”
Her smile was tired. “I’m not a bad person, you know. I came here because when he was hurt I was halfway around the world on tour and I couldn’t get away until now. I wanted to come so much sooner. I had visions of helping him, you know? Driving him around.” Her mouth twisted into a leer. “Giving him sponge baths.”
“I did that,” I said, a possessive heat burning in my gut. “I nursed him and helped him and in return he helped me.”
“But now you’re not together anymore?” She sounded genuinely surprised. And more than a little concerned.
I caught her gaze. “No. But that’s not your fault.” Her shoulders slumped a fraction in relief as I went on. “It’s mine.” I held up my hand. “His and mine together.” I grabbed my cart. “Go live your life now, Noelle. I’m going to do the same.”
As I strode off to finish my shopping, I only looked back on her once. And I was relieved and strangely proud to catch her setting down her empty basket and striding out the door. Of course she’d remembered her umbrella.
When I got home, Rachel wasn’t there in the kitchen waiting to greet me and take stuff out of my hands. While I was happy she wasn’t hovering over me, worried I was going to leave and stick her with the rent, it was strange that she wasn’t there with the water already boiling for the spaghetti I’d just bought. Rachel was a stickler about having dinner on the table at six.
“Hey Rach? Want me to start the water?” I called. When there was no answer, I went to her bedroom, wondering if she’d fallen asleep. She’d be pissed if I let her nap this late.
Her door was half closed, but I could hear her voice floating out from behind it. “—never been to a party.” She paused, and I realized she was on the phone. “I’ll definitely feel safe if you and Gabe are there, yeah.”
Was she talking to Beau? Wait. Gabe?
I heard her shift on her bed and froze, but she didn’t come to the door and catch me, so I was free to keep eavesdropping as she went on. “Is he doing—He is? Yeah, she’s been a little bit messed up this week but I think…Right, no, but I definitely want to. You know—” She giggled then and I ached to know what Beau was saying on the other end of the line. “I still haven’t tried every drink on the bar menu!” She laughed, a big full-throated sound I hadn’t heard from her before. “Maybe Gabe would know. I know, but he’d know something about what it would feel like, right? He used to take pills all the time.”
My heart thundered in my ears. Disgust made bile rise into my throat, but I swallowed it back down and forced myself to step away from Rachel’s door.
I knew she’d been cutting loose, and I didn’t blame her. I knew she felt like she had catching up to do, and I’d trusted that Beau would keep her safe while she did it. She could go to as many parties with him as she wanted, but why was Gabe going too? Bars were one thing, but going to a party where who knew what kind of drugs would be available…
What the fuck was he doing?
Fear made my hands shake. I watched them tremble with the anxiety that was building. Gabe couldn’t go to a party like that. He’d be risking two years of hard work. What was Beau thinking, letting him—
“No,” I said to myself. “This has nothing to do with you.”
I hadn’t realized I said it aloud until Rachel called out from her room. “Everly? How long have you been home?” She appeared at her door looking worried. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s fine,” I said tightly.
“I’ll go start the water. Thanks for going shopping.”
I pressed my hands into my sides so she wouldn’t see them shaking. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m not hungry.”
“Are you sure? Hey, I’m going out with Beau again tonight. I wanted to let you know.”
“Where are you headed?” I asked, a little too pointedly.
She caught my tone and got defensive. “Taylor from the Crown is having a fish bake to celebrate the opening of trout season. Beau caught a bunch today and is bringing them over.”
“Sounds wholesome,” I snarked.
Her eyes hardened. “It’s a party, but Beau is good about helping me know my tolerance.” She pronounced the word carefully, like she still wasn’t used to using it.
“What else are you going to do?”
“I think that’s it.” She eyed me. “Why? Did you want to come? It’s supposed to be fun. Apparently he does it every year and the whole town comes out—”
“I’m good,” I interrupted. So much had changed in the past few months. There was a time when I would have given anything to be included in something like this. To be noticed and invited. Now the last thing I wanted was to be around a bunch of people while I watched the man I loved and hated in equal measure destroy himself. “You have fun without me,” I told her, and closed my bedroom door to be alone.
&
nbsp; Chapter Thirty-Seven
Gabe
Taylor Graham’s annual fishbake had to move inside because of the constant rain. Which meant that instead of spreading out on the lawn by the creek for a bonfire, we were packed into his small converted trailer shoulder to shoulder. It was so tight that when my phone rang for what felt like the millionth time today, I had to apologize to the person I jostled as I reached for it.
“Gabriel!” Kit sounded jubilant. “Everything is all lined up. Our ducks are not only in a row, they’re arranged by size and height.”
A buzzing sound started up in my head. Almost like the sound of an alarm.
Beau and Rachel were too close by for me to discuss this freely. “Hold that thought, Kit,” I said as I nudged and squeezed my way through the crowd and out into the lashing rain. “I had to get myself somewhere I could talk.”
“Can you talk now?”
I looked out over Taylor’s lawn. Gray gloom hung over everything, matching my mood, and the thunder of the creek was all-consuming. Here and there, I could see washouts at the edge of Taylor’s lawn, the swollen creek carrying off chunks of stolen land. The slope on the leftmost edge where the bonfire was usually set up had completely flooded out and the wind carved little ripples across the top of the swirling brown surge.
It was not a pretty sight, but it still made me feel wistful. Wistful and homesick for a place I hadn’t even left yet. “I can talk,” I said, even though I knew he wanted to talk about the last thing I wanted to hear.
Beau and Rachel didn’t know that I was considering this my going-away party. Nobody knew, because I hadn’t had the guts to tell them, because I hadn’t wanted to say it aloud and make it true. Part of me hoped I could disappear in the wee hours tomorrow morning without anyone seeing me go.
Without running the risk of having to say goodbye.
“Great,” Kit said, sounding impatient. “You know I’d usually send a car, but—”
“I can drive myself,” I interrupted curtly. I didn’t want to hear about how my hometown was little more than a speck on the map. I felt a strange surge of pride for the place I’d only started to appreciate. “What time do you need me at the airport?”
The noise in my head grew as thunderous as the creek. Kit was talking in earnest now, laying out details and itineraries, but I heard none of it. Staring out at the rushing water, I wondered if I was imagining things or if the flood had crept even closer to the house as I stood here. I felt like it was coming for me, coming to sweep me under.
For months, all I’d wanted was to leave this place. Now that it was finally happening, why did I feel like I was drowning?
“Gabe? Are you there?” Kit asked.
I opened my mouth to answer him.
Then I pulled my phone away from my ear and deliberately ended the call.
The crush of bodies had packed even tighter. Over the sea of bobbing heads I saw Beau looking down, a fond smile on his face as he watched Rachel dance. She was stiff and awkward, but there was something about her graceless exuberance that was completely captivating. Beau certainly seemed to think so.
I started to move to them, then stopped, an ache in my chest opening up like a canyon across my heart. I didn’t want to see the two of them happy like that, marveling in how they’d found each other. I’d had that. I’d fucking had exactly that, and I’d ended it. I’d ended it rather than risk having Everly end it for me when I told her I was leaving.
If that wasn’t the definition of shooting yourself in the foot, I didn’t know what else it could be. By rights I should be limping again.
A whoop went up from the people by the front door. A couple of guys walked in and I felt the slight rush of recognition, though I didn’t know from where or why. Three guys, all skinny and pale. It was raining like a bitch outside, but I guessed that sheen on their skin was sweat and not water.
“Fuck,” I murmured. My hands itched, fingers curling in, already gripping the imaginary pill bottle. My mouth flooded with saliva, ready to swallow them down dry. I knew these guys because they were me two years ago.
What’s the harm? my racing brain wanted to know. Already I was making plans for how I could bliss out for the next few arduous hours. I’d wake up feeling shitty, but then I felt shitty sober too, so what was the difference? I could score a few pills off these dudes and skip the next few horrid hours, skip forward in time to where leaving was inevitable.
I’d almost convinced myself this was a good plan when I spotted Rachel.
Beau was turned away, talking to Taylor. He didn’t see how Rachel was watching the three new arrivals in open fascination. To my horror, this sheltered and naïve girl just starting to break free of her past made a beeline for the pillheads.
“No!” I growled. In three steps , I’d intercepted her, catching her up in my arms before she could get their attention. “Rachel. No.”
She fought like a panicked wildcat to get free and I let go of her before she started yelling. “Hey! Hey hey hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry I grabbed you.”
“What the hell is going on?” Beau was at her side in an instant. She hugged herself, taking deep breaths. “You can’t fucking grab her like that, man!” he shouted. Beau never shouted. “It freaks her out.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry, Rachel.” I felt about two inches tall. “Just…keep her away from the pillheads, okay? Don’t open that door. You might never get it closed again.”
Beau looked at me and then down at the calming Rachel. “I told you no,” he said. “I’ll take care of you when you want to drink, but nothing more than that.”
“You don’t get to tell me no,” Rachel hissed. “You’re not in charge of me. No one is.”
“Fuck,” I repeated, raking my hands through my hair again. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m just—I need some air.” I turned away from my brother, who was so busy arguing with Rachel he didn’t notice when I headed back out into the rain.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Everly
It was one of the few nights off I had these days, and I was spending it on the National Institute of Health website, searching the statistics on successful recoveries from opioid addiction with my heart in my throat.
I couldn’t do this. Addicts died from relapses all the time. Even worse was when they start using again after recovery. They think they still have the same tolerance as they used to.
He might not love me, but I could still save him. First and foremost, I was a nurse. It was my job to save him.
I ran out into the rain with my hoodie zipped up to my neck, still skirting around the Acura. I was going to save him from himself, no more than that. I didn’t need to remind him of how good he’d been to me before he turned into a complete dick.
But Grim. Fucking Grim. My car saw my stubborn pride and promptly punished me for it by carrying me only halfway to Taylor’s house. Then he seized his opportunity. I slowed at a four-way stop, and Grim let out a dramatic death rattle and died.
“Seriously?” I shouted, slamming the heel of my hand into the dash again and again. “You were fixed, you fucking piece of shit! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I turned the key again and again, knowing that I was only making it worse. With one last curse on his entire model year, I shoved the door open and stepped out into the lashing rain.
Taylor’s house was another two miles away by road. But if I cut through Latham’s farm there and then followed the creek downstream, I’d come out into Taylor’s back yard. It was less than a mile.
I set out at a run.
My shoes squished, mud sucking at my feet and slowing me down. Within moments, my shoes were soaked through. It was close to eight o’clock now, and what little light still hung on through the dim gloom was fading fast. I tried to pick up my pace.
“Fucking hell, Gabe,” I snarled through chattering teeth. In my mind I could perfectly see his face, that strong, straight nose, that sweet, mocking mouth, but my b
rain kept forcing me to imagine him slumped over, the pills scattered across his chest. “No,” I moaned as I saw him choking on his vomit with no one around who knew how to take care of him like I did. “Fuck you, seriously,” I groaned.
I was so intent on getting to him before my vision came true that I barely noticed where my feet were landing. They were already numb, so it took me until the water started lapping around my calves to realize that I was standing in the middle of a lake.
I blinked and stood still, trying to get my bearings. Where Latham’s corn field should have been there was a sea of water. I swallowed as I turned in a circle, looking for a familiar landmark.
That’s when I noticed the tug of a current at my feet.
“Shit,” I hissed. My heart pounded in sick, terrified thuds. I wasn’t in a lake.
I was in the creek.
The flood had buried the field, erasing everything familiar, even as the last bits of light bled from the sky.
“Okay. Okay. I’m okay,” I said, but the water was up to my knees, rushing so fast it was hard to lift my foot without the current threatening to tear it out from under me. I shuffled in a tight circle and let out a little moan when I felt the first splash above my knee. My hands shook steadily as I tried to count five sounds I could hear, five things I could see, but the grounding technique for warding off a panic attack only made me more aware of how fucked I was right now. “Fuck!” I screamed as the current knocked me off balance. Mindless with fear, I started running, half sprinting, half swimming. “Help!” I shouted, my body bobbing and twisting in the water.
The current grabbed me and yanked me off my feet, sending me under. I choked and sputtered as I fought to keep my head above water, then screamed as something unseen in the water raked a long, deep scratch across my leg. I twisted and fought as the current dragged me to the deep water where the flood was moving fastest. I coughed and flung out blindly, and my fingers closed on a low-hanging branch. I grabbed on with all my strength as the creek swept my legs out from under me. “Help!” I cried again.
Lost Perfect Kiss: A Crown Creek Novel Page 19
