Lead Me Home: A Fight for Me Stand-Alone Novel

by A. L. Jackson

  All I wanted was to lay low.

  Hide out.

  Just for a little while.

  Until things between him and Brenna cooled down.

  Of course, I had to admit I hadn’t slept all that well knowing Ollie was once again just a room away.

  A wall and a million miles separating us.

  But after the evening we’d spent together, it’d felt as if part of that chasm was being erased.

  Drawn.

  That magnet that would live forever pulling us together.

  It was a bad idea to get close to him. I knew it. Of course, I knew it. But sometimes life made it hard to pretend he hadn’t once been the most important person in my life.

  Anxious to head to my sister’s house, I clicked the fob and started to pull open the driver’s side door.

  Then I froze.

  My stomach plummeted to the ground.

  The hairs at the nape of my neck lifted on end, and the sweat that was already threatening to gather beaded across my forehead and neck, trickling down my back in a slow slide of dread.

  Another note.

  It was folded neatly and tucked beneath the wiper.

  He’d found me.

  Oh God, he’d found me.

  I gulped around the rush of terror that glided through my body.

  Followed me more likely.

  From Brenna’s description, he was manipulative in the worst of ways. Yanking her one direction then the other until she thought she was going insane.

  Warily, my attention darted around the area, searching beneath the towering trees that lifted to the blue, blue sky, across the line of cars that were parked next to mine since this area was reserved parking for Olive’s employees.

  Nothing.

  Just the whisper of the leaves and the sound of the busy street echoing from the other side of the building.

  “Shit,” I mumbled. All I wanted was to run right back upstairs. Maybe curl up in the bed Ollie had told me to consider mine.

  Maybe curl up in his.

  Damn it.

  I could not let my brain go down that train of thought.

  But it seemed almost impossible.

  Not with the way he’d always made me feel safe.

  Not with the way he’d touched me last night.

  I wanted to fall into Ollie’s strong arms and beg him to take it away.

  But I wasn’t that girl.

  One to be frightened away.

  Threatened until I backed down so some jerk could have his way.

  Brenna deserved so much better than that.

  Taking one last glance around the lot, I snagged the note and hopped into my car, quick to slam the door and press the lock.

  Heart a riot in my chest, I carefully unfolded it.

  Fear slicked across the surface of my flesh.

  A cold, cold dread.

  You think you can get away so easily? He can’t keep you from what’s coming.

  Thunder.

  It rumbled through my being. A warning. A siren that screamed. Pulse a deafening pound, pound, pound as it echoed in my ears.

  I squeezed my eyes closed against the shackle of terror that gripped me.

  I’d always known working for the program would require sacrifice.

  That it might not always be easy.

  Maybe I’d known I was getting in too deep.

  I’d just never expected it might make me feel like I was going to drown.

  I hoisted myself onto my little sister’s kitchen counter.

  Sammie gave me a scowl. “Were you born in a barn?”

  Playfully, I rolled my eyes at her and tossed another grape into my mouth. “Um, if I was born in a barn, then I’m pretty sure you were, too. Next thing you know, you’ll be makin’ yo mama jokes. Tryin’ to cut me down to size when you’re really just cutting yourself off at the knees.”

  She swatted at me. “Pssh . . . if I wanted to cut you down to size, I wouldn’t need to look to our mother. Think I’ve got plenty to work with just with you sittin’ there. We could start with that face.”

  “Ouch,” I said, grinning wide. Funny how neither of us were feeling the love unless we were razzing the other.

  Old habits die hard and all that.

  “Before you start going down that road, you should probably take a gander in the mirror,” I told her.

  She laughed. “Oh, God . . . now don’t you go talking about how much we look alike. A couple of days ago, I was at that little market over by Grandma’s. Remember her neighbor, Margo? I was loading my groceries onto the conveyor belt when I heard someone shoutin’, ‘Nikki, Nikki, is that you?’ I don’t know why she even bothered asking the question when she refused to believe I was your sister and not actually you.”

  “You say this as if looking like me is a bad thing.”

  She laughed as she flitted around her cozy country kitchen, preparing dinner, the smell of a roast simmering on the stove making my stomach growl.

  Her face really was so much like mine that it felt as if I was looking in a mirror.

  A few years younger and a tiny bit rounder from the few pounds she was still clinging to after giving birth to my sweet niece two months ago.

  “Did you show up at my door diggin’ for compliments?”

  “Um, no, I didn’t show up at your door diggin’ for compliments. I showed up at your door diggin’ for dinner.”

  That, and I needed a distraction.

  I had to tell Seth about the notes I’d found on my car. I knew I did. But I needed to work myself up to it. Figure out exactly what information I could give without betraying confidence, knowing I didn’t have proof.

  But my gut?

  It was sure.

  On top of that? I’d needed to get out of Ollie’s loft. Clear my head. Decide exactly what I was going to say to him.

  I couldn’t just stay there and keep him in the dark about what was happening.

  But God knew, I was terrified of letting him in on this.

  He wasn’t exactly rational when it came to a threat.

  Plus, I had to be careful before I lost my heart all over again.

  No doubt, that was the most dangerous position I could get myself into.

  Sammie pulled out a cutting board and set a head of broccoli on it. “Well, I guess you came to the right place, then, didn’t you? Just expecting your married sister was gonna be slaving away in the kitchen for her husband.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing?” I teased, eyeing the spread she was preparing.

  Chuckling, she shook her head. “I do it because I want to do it, not because I’m obligated.”

  I nudged her with my shoe. “You think I don’t know that? And there is not a thing wrong with you wanting to take care of your family.”

  She glanced over at me. Something about her expression was wistful and sad. “I never really thought it was what I’d want to do. I always envisioned myself in a big skyscraper in an even bigger city, working my way up the corporate ladder, and now all I want to do is spend the day rockin’ that baby.”

  “You always dreamed of getting away from Gingham Lakes, didn’t you?”

  Her head shook a bit. “Sometimes you think it’s the place you need to escape when really it’s just your situation.”

  I stilled at that, something unsettling about her statement. I searched her face. “What does that mean?”

  Her posture stiffened, and she pinned on a smile. “Nothing. Just means I thought there might be better things out there waiting for me in the world.”

  “Why’s that?”

  She inhaled deeply, biting her bottom lip as she continued chopping. “It’s nothing. Just never quite felt comfortable in my own skin.”

  I shifted to the side so I could see her better. “I don’t get that, Sammie. You were always the happiest of us all.”

  She puffed a little sound. “Not even. You and Sydney and those boys. You were always running free, leaving your poor baby sister behind.”
r />   A chuckle rippled out, and I reached over and grabbed another handful of grapes from the bowl. “Ha. Every time I tried to take you anywhere, you didn’t want to walk. How many times did Ollie have to carry you home on his back?”

  She laughed low and tossed the florets of broccoli she’d just cut into the pot of water boiling on the stove. “Good thing that boy was always the size of a bear, always having to carry all the poor, pathetic girls around.”

  She grinned. “Of course, you were probably just faking being tired so you could get yourself one of those rides. Anything to get your arms around that man.”

  Nostalgia moved through me. Joy chased by sorrow. I couldn’t stop the sad smile.

  She sobered a bit. “You know, I always thought the two of you would end up together.”

  My head shook. “No. We have too much in common. Too much history to ever make that work.”

  “Isn’t that what makes a good relationship?”

  “Not when all that history is filled with pain.”

  She nodded slowly, quick to change the subject. “So, how are your classes?”

  “Good. I’m so close to being finished. I can’t believe it.”

  “I’m really proud of you, you know?”

  Light laughter escaped. “It’s about time, isn’t it? Here I am thirty and barely figuring out what I want to do with my life.”

  Funny how things were supposed to be coming together and every piece of me felt as if it were descending into disorder.

  The apartment.

  Brenna.

  The internship.

  And somehow staying with Ollie felt just as big as all of that.

  Maybe bigger.

  This was Ollie, we were talking about.

  My great big world.

  He had taken that world from me for so long, and now I felt as if I was stumbling through it in the darkness.

  I chose not to tell my sister any of those things. She didn’t need to be fretting over me when she had her family to care for. To worry for.

  The important things in life.

  She glanced over at me as she started to make gravy in a skillet. I wasn’t joking when I said I’d come around here diggin’ up dinner. My baby sister knew how to cook. “Mama is so happy you’re getting ready to graduate.”

  My chest tightened with a smidge of pride. “She’s always worrying about me. I think she keeps forgetting I’m thirty.”

  Sammie laughed under her breath. “That’s because Mama thinks she’s still thirty.”

  Standing at the stove, she looked back at me, concern in her eyes. “I’m worried about how she’s handling Gramma falling ill, moving in with her to be her full-time caretaker. That’s gotta be hard, seeing her own mama like that.”

  So many emotions raced through me at the thought, I didn’t know how to make sense of them.

  My grandma who’d always been so alive and strong.

  The summers we’d spent running in and out of her house, the screen door slamming shut as we came and went.

  “It has to be the hardest thing any of us ever go through, watching our mother’s fall ill. God, I can’t stand seeing it with Gramma. Every time I go over there, it breaks my heart a little more.”

  She nodded through the somberness of it. That cycle of life we’d give anything to stop but never could. It didn’t matter how old my gramma was, my mama, my sister. There’d never be a time when I didn’t want to cling to them forever.

  “At least Uncle Todd is back in town to help around the house. That will hopefully take away some of the stress,” I said.

  From behind, Sammie’s spine stiffened, and I could have sworn I saw her knees sway, losing balance.

  “Sammie . . . you okay?”

  She nodded. “Of course. Just . . . hate the thought of Gramma being sick.”

  Just then, the speaker on the baby monitor crackled. A tiny, rattling cry came through, and I slid off the counter. “Let me get her.”

  “That’d be nice,” Sammie said with a gracious smile, though I couldn’t shake the feeling something was suddenly off.

  I headed down the hall and eased open the door to Penelope’s room, which was adorable with its hearts and elephants everywhere.

  My chest filled.

  So full.

  Almost too full.

  The feeling only came stronger as I looked down at my niece, who was flailing one fist while trying to shove the other into her tiny mouth. Somehow, she had kicked free of the blanket and was wiggling around, making the sweetest sounds.

  I couldn’t help but echo them back. “Hey, Angel,” I whispered, scooping her into my arms. “How’s my sweet, sweet girl? Auntie Nik has been missing you.”

  I hugged her to my chest and kissed the top of her head, whispering against her crown. “So much.”

  She cooed, scratched her sharp little nails in my chin as she fisted at my skin.

  Was it wrong the little thing made me ache?

  It wasn’t like I was old. But I still felt that time slipping away. A piece of me missing that I’d always assumed would just be there one day.

  I could swill wine with my friends and laugh all my nights away. Give back the best I could, live and embrace who I was.

  I’d be happy.

  That didn’t mean something wouldn’t be missing.

  Maybe it only seemed fitting it was tucked right down in that place with all those pieces that’d gone missing long ago.

  “Nik?”

  I startled with my sister’s voice coming from behind me.

  I spun around to find her standing in the doorway. There was something mournful in her expression. As if she’d just heard every single one of my thoughts as if I’d said them aloud.

  Or maybe I just saw it projected back, her face like a picture of mine.

  I pasted on a thin smile. “She’s so beautiful, Sammie. If I were you, I’d want to sit and rock her all day, too.”

  Sammie gazed at her daughter. “It’s funny, just looking at her makes me believe the world could be a better place.”

  Hugging the tiny thing to me, I kissed her temple.

  And I believed it, too.

  Outside of my sister’s house, I sat in the driver’s side seat of my car in the darkness, holding the card Seth had given me between my fingers. With a shaky hand, I dialed the number.

  Two rings later, a scratchy voice came on the line. “Hello?”

  “Seth . . . it’s Nikki.”

  “Are you okay?” he rushed.

  I sucked in a breath, eyes darting through the windows, searching the shadows.

  The feeling of being watched sent chills crawling across my skin.

  No question, I was being paranoid, but I couldn’t seem to stop the dread clinging to me.

  I just couldn’t take the risk.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. I just . . . I have something I need to tell you, but I need you to promise you won’t tell Ollie.”

  12

  Ollie

  I snapped open the door to my nineteen fifties turquoise-blue Chevy truck to the sticky summer air.

  Birds flitted across the sky that was painted a bright, brilliant blue, and the lush, towering trees rustled in the gentle breeze blowing through.

  I stepped out onto the sidewalk and shut the door to the old truck, which was basically my prized possession.

  When I found it, it’d been rotting at the back of this old guy’s land, swallowed by weeds and pretty much rusted down to the metal bones.

  It was kind of my thing. Taking the dilapidated—the neglected and the failing—and doing my own sort of restoration.

  It was where I found my joy.

  Taking something that had been left for ruin and giving it a new life. A second chance when I wasn’t ever going to get one for myself.

  A certain sort of retribution. Like I was desperate to find something good buried in the rubble.

  My first love was my bar. Taking it from the ruin it’d been and breathing a new life into it. />
  I took just as much pride in the cars I had restored at a local shop, Roke’s restorations, a garage I’d invested some money into when it had been threatened with going under.

  Hell, I’d invested in a few failing businesses around Gingham Lakes, wanting to see something good rise out of the dust.

  But the cars . . .

  I loved watching them going from completely rotted to immaculate.

  From a heap of junk to a priceless treasure.

  Guessed it was a whole lot easier to fall for material things than things made up of flesh and blood and spirit.

  Safer.

  But sometimes not falling proved itself impossible.

  Which was precisely the reason I was there today, driving this specific truck when I had five others to choose from in my garage.

  Because . . . Evan.

  The first time Kale had brought him to my place, the little boy had run through that garage like he’d gotten a lifetime pass to Disneyland and couldn’t wait to visit it every day.

  His big ol’ bug eyes had been nothing but excitement behind his thick-rimmed glasses as he’d gone from car to car. His fingertips had traced the metal, and he’d sat behind the steering wheel of each car, pretending like he was flying down a racetrack.

  Kale hadn’t even protested when I’d let Evan climb onto one of my motorcycles.

  But this truck?

  It was his favorite.

  He’d claimed it as his on that big spiral-bound notebook he always carried around, jumping up and down as he’d shoved it toward my face to tell me just how much he loved it.

  Then he’d gone and left that ripped-out piece of paper on my coffee table so I wouldn’t forget.

  A light chuckle rippled out as I thought back to that day, to the way the kid had gotten right under my skin like he’d belonged there all along.

  The same way Frankie Leigh and Ryland had done.

  So, there I was, locking the door of that truck and reaching into the bed to snag the football I’d tossed back there for my little adventure to the park that sat smack-dab in the middle of our small city.

  Meeting up for a motherfucking play date.

  Talk about being a third wheel.

  Out of place.

  A damned fish out of water when this was the very pond I grew up in.