Stay: Changing Tides, Book 1

by Candi Wall

  “What’s the matter?”

  He jumped at her question and turned with a smile. “That wasn’t very nice. You scared the shit out of me.”

  Brack and scared didn’t belong in the same sentence. “What were you growling about when I came in?” She didn’t need to admit she’d been standing there watching him.

  He pointed to his shirt. “Onion. Now my shirt stinks.”

  She walked closer, peeking over his shoulder at the food. Her mouth watered at the delicious aromas that hung on the steam. “God, that smells good.”

  He didn’t move, his gaze on her. “How’s your mom?”

  “Asleep.”

  He tipped her face up to meet his. “Are you okay?”

  No. But she wouldn’t say it. Hiding the pain was so much easier than trying to explain it away. The oddity of emotions was too complex to decipher. Embarrassed, worried, tired, angry. Tears erupted without warning. She’d never had a shoulder to cry on, and as he pulled her closer, the flow of tears refused to stop. It didn’t matter that his shirt smelled of onions, or that he moved to turn the stove off even as he held her. It didn’t matter that her mother slept peacefully in the room down the hall, or that the fire pagers could go off at any moment.

  She had a solid, warm presence to hold her. Someone who cared.

  “Brack, I’m so tired of hurting for her. She’s my mother, I’m supposed to support her no matter what, even after all the hurt she’s caused me. But I don’t want to. Isn’t that the most selfish thing you’ve ever heard?”

  His hands stroked down her back. “No. No it isn’t, baby. We can only do so much to help the people we love. Sometimes, you just have to do what you can and hope they will help themselves.”

  She sniffled, swiping at her tears to look up at his handsome face. “She won’t.”

  “Maybe not.” He brushed a thumb across her cheek and she turned in to the touch. “But you have to think of yourself sometimes. You don’t have to keep running, Abby. Don’t leave. I’m here for you, and I always will be if you’ll let me.”

  New tears wet her cheeks and she turned into his body, her face resting against his chest where his heart beat. He held her while she cried for what could be. For what she wanted.

  She knew he spoke the truth. Knew he meant every word. If she would let him, he’d be there. Always. He’d stand between her and anything that could hurt her. It was another reason she loved him and the most important reason she had to leave. He’d always be in the path first. He’d be in the way again when Cheri’s next dangerous outburst came. And even if she’d wanted to stay, she wouldn’t.

  She loved him too much for that. If anything ever happened to him…

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brack finished piling the chairs into the back of his truck and wiped his hands down his shirt. Wood shavings clung to the thick woolen material, drifting toward the ground like the spattering of snow that had started to fall sometime while he worked in the shop.

  He glanced at his watch. Two thirty. Three hours and he’d head over to Abby’s to see how the visit to St. Mary’s Wellness Clinic in Westmere had gone. He’d thought about her all day, hoping her mother would be able to find an opening, at least short-term. He needed more time to convince Abby to stay.

  Last night she’d cried on his shoulder far longer than he’d expected, as if she’d never let the locked-up emotions free. And like a dam, they’d broken in heavy currents. She’d told him horrific stories from her childhood while they’d sat on the couch talking long into the early morning hours. When she’d fallen asleep with her head on his lap, he’d stared at her for a long time.

  So strong in presence, she’d been a broken, vulnerable woman, carrying the weight of too much pain on her thin shoulders. He’d never wanted to help and protect anyone as much as he did Abby. Even the potential problems Cheri could bring weren’t enough to deter his way of thinking. Jonathon was old enough now to handle any difficulties she caused. And over time, he could show Abby that she didn’t have to worry about becoming sick as well.

  He reached into the truck and flipped open his cell phone. Texting a quick message to Jonathon just to say hi, he hopped in the truck. It would take close to two hours to deliver the chairs. He’d swing by the house on his way back and grab a couple of movies. Good or bad day, Abby might welcome the reprieve of a movie and a glass of wine.

  The windows were dark when he pulled into Abby’s drive much later than he’d planned. The delivery truck that was supposed to meet him for shipment had arrived almost two hours later than scheduled, and the call Brighton had for a potential carbon monoxide leak at Ava Gordan’s had stalled his progress even more.

  Normally a hectic day would be just what he wanted, but the constant interruptions had tested his patience today. He’d wanted nothing more than to see Abby. Her wellbeing was foremost in his mind right now.

  He parked the truck and grabbed the bags holding the movies and wine before heading to the door. Maybe she was napping. The garage was closed so he couldn’t tell if her car was inside.

  He tapped on the door and waited, a sick feeling taking hold in his stomach when no one came to answer. Wary to look, he peeked in through the window.

  The bags slipped from his hand.

  Nothing remained.

  He pressed closer. A few empty boxes littered the floor, but other than the couch and chair, everything was gone. Numb, he walked around to the large bay window, disbelief constricting his chest.

  She’d left? Without a word?

  The kitchen was empty as well, the refrigerator door open to reveal clean shelves and no interior light.

  He left the bags where they’d fallen and walked back to his truck. He’d known she would leave eventually, and the whisper of hope that she’d stay had been small. But the emptiness of the house—dark, barren and silent—echoed what he felt inside.

  Brittle wind sliced across the yard to tug at the truck door. With a final, angry glance at the house, he hopped back in and started the engine. He’d known better than to feel anything. She’d been open about leaving, and he’d been a fool to hope for anything more.

  Two Weeks Later

  His hand shook as he held the paper closer to the porch light. He hadn’t even bothered to walk through the door after grabbing the mail. When he’d seen his name written in the slightly feminine script, his stomach had somersaulted.

  Jonathon came out on the porch, pulling a jacket around his shoulders. He glanced at the letter, his hands moving slow with his questioning glance. Brack didn’t have to look at his signs to know the question in his son’s eyes. He’d asked about Abby for the last two weeks. Since the day he’d come home and found out she’d left. Without a word, without even a simple goodbye.

  Brack couldn’t hide the letter from his son. Jonathon’s heart had been broken by her desertion. He’d closed off for days, refusing to talk about her or ask any questions. Then the dam had burst.

  Why did she leave? What did you do to her while I was gone? Where is she? Will she come back? She was the best and you let her go?

  He’d been angry, with reason. Hell, Brack was angry himself. He felt the loss of her presence as though the hole from losing Ellen and Jeremy had been ripped wide open again. He knew why she’d left, but it didn’t make it any easier.

  It didn’t change the fact that she’d walked into their lives, turned it right side up and then walked away without a backward glance. He wanted to be thankful for what she’d given them. He and Jonathon were closer now than they’d ever been. But damn it, she should have been part of it. She belonged with them.

  And now, she’d written. He was almost scared to read the words, uncertain if he’d find solace or more pain in the scrawling, printed words.

  Jonathon leaned in, his eyes scanning the paper.

  I know this may not be the best way for me to tell you both how much I wish things could have been different. If I know you as well as I think I do, you’re both very angry at me fo
r taking the easy way out instead of facing you to say goodbye. But easy isn’t even close to what this has been. I’ve thought about you both since the moment I left. I want you to know I left for good reason, whether it seems like it to either of you right now or not.

  You have to learn to be each other’s family again, without me, without having any more turmoil and upset in your lives. And that’s what I would have brought. I won’t reiterate what you, Brack, already know and have probably shared with Jonathon. I hope that you think of me fondly, but my greatest hope is that you pull together. Whether that’s in anger or grief over what I think we all wish could have been.

  Jonathon, I’ve never met a young man as amazing as you. Your strength and determination are astounding, and numerous grown adults I’ve met could benefit from even an ounce of the maturity you possess. Take care of yourself. I know you’ll try different things as you get older, but remember to be the smart one in the group. No drinking and driving, no dangerous behavior, nothing that can be a detrimental to your wellbeing or your safety.

  Give your dad time. I have no doubt that he will eventually take you on your adrenaline junky trips. You’ll fly a plane and ride the rollercoasters. Although I better NEVER hear of you swimming with sharks! I love you dearly and I won’t hear of you doing anything to endanger yourself. Ever. I’ll think of you. And good luck with all the young women who’ll be knocking on your door if you decide that Lynette is not the one for you. Don’t ever let other people’s opinions sway you from what you feel is right. Believe in yourself and your values. They are what make you so uniquely you.

  Brack, you need to live. It’s way past time you let go of your guilt and your pain. Nothing you could have done that day could have changed it. Let it go. Hang on to the good memories. I saw a piece of the happy, healthy man you can be, and your son needs that man. You’re slowly dying inside, even if you don’t feel it yet. When I was with you, I felt alive. That’s still there inside you, you just have to take that chance, let go and learn to really live for you and your son.

  I hope you know, even though I left, how I feel about you both. There’s a huge hole in my heart, because a piece of me will stay with you always.

  All my love,

  Abby

  The end of the letter said it all.

  Jonathon glanced at him. “She’s not coming back, is she?”

  “No.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Brack crumpled the letter in his fist. “Nothing. I‘ve got to go to work.”

  He walked away. She’d ended it as surely as she started it. “Let go,” she’d said so many nights ago when he’d first kissed her lips.

  And that was just what he’d do.

  Chapter Twenty

  Abby set the bag of groceries down. Clutching the papers she’d printed at the library tight, she dug for her keys. She couldn’t wait to show her mother the information she’d found while researching treatment options. Call her a fool, but reading the statistics made her feel better about herself too. They reassured her over and over that she might never develop her mother’s illness. And even if she did, people led healthy, happy lives with proper treatment of schizophrenia.

  The doorknob turned in her hand and she groaned. Dropping her keys on the small table next to the door, she grabbed the groceries and kicked the door closed behind her. “Mom?”

  She carried the bags to the kitchen and set them on the counter. Her arms ached from the drills they’d run at the fire station, but she’d taken on the extra shift after the bill for pay-per-view movies had come last week. Her mother had racked up so many movie charges, she needed the extra cash to make ends meet.

  “Mom? You left the door unlocked again.”

  No answer came.

  “Mom?”

  Silence reigned, and a knot of tension slipped around her stomach. There was no answer, again. Like so many times before. She called out, praying for a response. But she knew there wouldn’t be one.

  She walked down the hall, her eyes catching and passing over the missing objects throughout the small apartment they’d lived in for five and a half weeks. More than she’d expected, or dared to wish for. She swung the door open to her mother’s room and sighed. Clothes littered the floor, the bed rumpled from another restless night spent working through the growing need for her fix. Every object that could be sold had been taken.

  She was gone.

  It was over. Until the next time she showed up and the cycle started again. And again. And again.

  Abby’s throat tightened. Anger coursed through her body with brutal strokes until her fist hit the wall. The pressure and pain felt good. She grabbed the stand at the door and slammed it across the floor. Wood shattered and splintered, but the noise gave her relief. She wrecked the bed, the closet, every object she could lay her hands on. There were no pictures on the walls because they’d all been left behind years before.

  She dropped to the floor amid the mess, tears of anger and pain falling unchecked. She’d given up her entire life to walk in the shadow of her mother’s illness, and now she’d given up a man she loved and the wonderful son she would have loved as her own.

  Their handsome faces burned through the tears. She could see them, reading the letter she hadn’t been able to stop herself from writing. The last night spent together with Brack, the food forgotten, the way he’d kissed her, held her and asked her to stay…

  She’d given it all up.

  For nothing.

  Her heart ached, longing for what Brack offered. She’d never felt so secure, and at peace, as she had when Brack and Jonathon were in her world. The need to go back where her heart belonged had lived in her thoughts. Every hour of every day, she’d questioned the moment she’d pulled out of the driveway of that little house in the middle of nowhere, Maine, leaving behind everything she’d never known she wanted.

  The phone rang then, and she eased to her feet, swiping at her cheeks. It wouldn’t do any good to sit and wallow in her pain. She’d force it all from her mind. She’d continue to be strong. No matter what, she’d done what was right for Brack and Jonathon, and she was all her mother had.

  Loving them all meant doing what was right for them.

  And it was too late to go back.

  Abby snatched the bright yellow paper off the front of her locker and smiled. Its large lettering invited her to a party, and she folded it before spinning the combination lock. Her new team members didn’t give up easily, she’d give them that. They were a good group. Tons of fun and even a sturdy shoulder or two in the bunch if she ever chose to use them. But she wasn’t ready to form connections of any sort. Not after Maine.

  It had been a week since her mother left, and she just wasn’t ready to socialize yet. When she opened the locker, the flashing red light on her cell phone lit the dark corners with tiny blips. She grabbed it before stuffing her sweatshirt inside and closing the locker door.

  “Hey, Burke? You coming tonight?”

  Jerking around at David’s yell, she forced a smile for his benefit. “Sorry, David, I’ve got another shift coming up in a few hours.”

  “That’s all you do. Work and work some more.” He shook his head. He was handsome, with dark hair and bright green eyes. She adored him, really. Especially when he couldn’t start a shift without showing her multiple pictures of his newborn son. “My wife’s gonna think I made you up. You’ve been here over a month and she hasn’t met you.”

  “Sorry,” she offered. “Maybe next time.”

  She grabbed her bag and headed for Captain Hutchens’s office before David could respond. She knew she worked all the time, but it was the only thing that could keep her mind off her mother—and Brack. Not to mention, without another job, she needed the extra shifts to pay for her rent. She missed working with Jonathon more every day and wondered if her job at Elmont had been filled yet.

  Knocking on the door, she waited until he called out to enter. The room was a mess, as always. Papers littered t
he desk and chairs. He was by far the most unorganized captain she’d ever had. But George was also one of the nicest. His bald head didn’t lift from the papers he was reading, so she cleared her throat. “You wanted to see me?”

  He pointed to an empty chair. “Have a seat, Burke.”

  She waited, uncertain about the captain’s cryptic need to see her.

  After a few minutes, he finally pushed the papers aside. “A Dr. Calhain called looking for you. He said you’d panic when he called, but he needed to let you know they were transferring your mother to another facility. Here’s his number.”

  Abby accepted the piece of paper with shaky fingers. She’d gotten the call a few days ago. Her mother had been arrested, and with the amount of warrants outstanding against her, the judge had ordered her into Ridgewood Mental Health facility for a psychiatric evaluation. The transfer could be good or bad news. She couldn’t be sure which yet. “I’ll call him back. Thanks.”

  Hutchins nodded. “I also got a call from one of your old stations today. Seems there was some paperwork you left behind that the captain there thought I might be interested in seeing.” He tossed a manila folder in her direction. “Your shift is supposed to start in a couple of hours, but I’ve decided you need to take the day off.”

  “Captain, I need that shift.” Christ, more than he knew. Somehow her mother had managed to empty not only the apartment, but the meager amount of money they had saved in the bank. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will.” He held up a hand to stall further protest. “Get going. There’s someone next door at the coffee shop waiting to see you.”

  “What?”

  Baffled, she sat back in the chair. What in the world was going on? She ripped open the folder and scanned the first page. Her heart skipped a beat or two, or three, hell it just stopped altogether. The Brighton Fire & Rescue header on the page saw to that. Her eyes blurred with memories of the two men she’d left behind as she read the glowing recommendation sent to her new captain by Bracken J. Elliot.