by Rachel Lacey
She sucked in a breath but said nothing.
“I want to see those assholes locked up as much as you do,” he said. “And I need to know that you’re safe. So I’m still involved whether you like it or not.”
“Fine,” she said. “And when you’re ready to take a look at why you’re really still involved in this case, let me know.”
He couldn’t answer that one. He had feelings for her, feelings that went much deeper than sex. He felt empty and restless without her, but it didn’t—couldn’t—change anything.
Being married to Rina had been a wakeup call. They’d been madly in love when they eloped the summer after high school graduation. So friggin’ happy those first few years. Poor as dirt, but they’d put themselves through college and survived on ramen noodles and sheer determination.
Things were still good when he started as a rookie in the sheriff’s office. But it hadn’t been long before Rina started complaining about the hours, the danger, how emotionally unavailable he was. And after his father’s arrest, things had really gone to hell. There’d been so much yelling, so much anger and resentment.
Sometimes it was hard to remember how young and in love they’d once been.
His job, his lifestyle, was not suited to marriage. And Rina was right—he was emotionally unavailable. Half the time he didn’t even know what the hell he was feeling, let alone try to explain himself to someone else. Olivia lived, breathed, pulsed with emotion. She was passionate and caring and never afraid to take a risk.
He needed to see her through this mess with Halverson, but that had to be the end of it. He couldn’t offer her the life she wanted, the life she deserved.
Still brooding over past mistakes, Pete finished out his shift and then, instead of pointing his cruiser toward home, he got on the highway, headed toward the state penitentiary.
Toward his father.
At the desk, he surrendered his weapon. He was taken to a small visitation room outfitted with a gray table and two chairs, whitewashed by the fluorescent lights above. He sat there for a while, long enough to question what the hell he was doing here. Why now, of all times, was he finally visiting his father in jail?
The door clanged open, and his dad shuffled in, escorted by a guard. He looked thinner, older, than he had three years ago. But his dark eyes were still bright, and they were fixed on Pete’s with surprise and maybe even relief.
“Pete,” he said. “When they said I had a visitor, I thought it would be your mother.”
“It’s me.” Pete stood, and the two men stared at each other in awkward silence.
“I’ll be right outside. Knock on the door when you’re ready to leave,” the guard said.
“Thank you,” Pete answered.
“You look good, son. How have you been?” His dad sat at the table.
Pete sat in the chair across from him. “You know why I’m here.”
His dad nodded. “Because I filed for divorce from your mother.”
Pete’s hands fisted beneath the table. “After all you’ve put her through, and she stood by you through all of it, this is how you repay her?”
His dad shook his head, his expression pinched. “I did it for her, you know.”
Anger blurred his vision. “How so, Dad? How does this help her? You haven’t had to see how miserable she is this week, how she still defends you, even now. It’s pathetic.”
“Because I’m in here, and she’s out there. Because she deserves better.” His dad’s weary eyes glistened with tears. “Because she was never going to leave me on her own.”
Pete sat there, stunned. His dad’s words were all true. His mom did deserve better. She deserved to start living her life again and maybe even find a man who could love her the right way, where she wouldn’t play second-string mistress to drugs and booze.
“I’m sorry for the way I was when you were growing up. I wish I could say I tried to be there for you, but it’s not true.” He hung his head. “I cared more about where to get my next fix than I did about my own family. I was addicted, but that’s no excuse. A stronger man would have done better.”
Pete watched him in silence. His dad had apologized for everything four years ago, when he’d turned himself around for that briefest of times. “I don’t know how to respond to that, Dad.”
His dad nodded. “That’s fair. And whatever you’re feeling toward me, I deserve it. I was an asshole, plain and simple. I screwed up all of your lives. Sitting in here day after day has given me a lot of time to think.” He grimaced. “A lot of sober time to sit and think.”
“Jail tends to do that,” Pete said.
“I killed a man. I have to live with that for the rest of my life. But I can set your mother free from the weight of my mistakes. Maybe she’ll even start over again, find someone new.” He looked pained at the thought.
“Jesus.” Pete looked away.
“I still love her, you know. I’ve always loved her. So next time you see her, tell her not to fight the divorce, okay? She needs to get on with her life.”
“I’ll tell her,” Pete said.
“You’re a good man, Pete. You’re a stronger man than I am. You won’t repeat my mistakes. You’ll make a lucky woman very happy someday. I know it.”
* * *
Olivia blinked and rubbed her eyes because they had to be playing tricks on her. Her Facebook page and website were gone. Deleted. Deactivated. Whatever she wanted to call it, they no longer existed.
How could that happen?
Obviously she sucked at password protection. And now everything she’d worked so hard to create was gone. Not just her blog posts, but her followers—everyone who’d subscribed to or “liked” her page. All the people she’d reached yesterday at the protest…if they’d gone home and looked up the links on the pamphlet she’d handed out, they’d seen either the message saying she’d given up the fight and Halverson wasn’t so bad after all or nothing but broken links.
This was so much worse than eggs or spray paint on the front of her house. This was a disaster. And she was heartbroken.
She wasn’t giving up. She’d never give up. But for the first time since this whole mess started, she honestly had no idea where to go from here. What came next?
Her cell phone rang, and she fumbled for it in her purse.
“Hi.” It was Cara. “Something’s wrong with your website.”
“I know.” Olivia flopped back onto her bed. “I got hacked. Someone posted a message on there yesterday saying that I’d decided to quit fighting Halverson, which I deleted, and so today my pages are just gone.”
“Holy crap,” Cara said. “They can do that?”
“Halverson’s henchmen are apparently a lot more tech savvy than I am.”
“Aw, honey. This sucks. Can you get them back?”
Olivia shook her head. “They don’t keep backups. I guess that was my job.”
“I could have Jason look into it for you, if you want,” Cara offered. Her future brother-in-law was quite the cyber sleuth.
“I would appreciate that. The police don’t seem to care about website hackings unless it involves something seriously illegal.”
“No problem. I’m sure he could track it down. Maybe he could even retrieve your web files for you, who knows.”
“That would be awesome. Thank you.”
“You got it. Wish I could come visit. I miss you.” Cara sounded wistful.
“I miss you too. You’re coming down for Christmas, right?”
“Yep. We’re spending Thanksgiving here with Matt’s family and Christmas in North Carolina.”
Olivia smiled. “Good. We’re overdue for a girls’ night at Red Heels.”
Cara laughed. “We certainly are.”
Olivia hung up the phone feeling a tiny bit better. Friends had a way of doing that for each other. For a little while, she’d forgotten that it was Saturday night and she was sitting home moping about the fact she’d been dumped by the man she loved yesterday and her entire life’s wor
k had just been erased.
And…oh God, she was pathetic.
This wouldn’t do. She changed into jeans and a sweater, fastened her hair in a messy bun, and freshened her makeup. Maybe she’d go to The Watering Hole and listen to some live music. Maybe she’d go to Jordan Lake and meditate. But she was definitely not going to mope around on a Saturday night feeling sorry for herself.
She was halfway down the stairs when she heard someone knocking at the front door. Bailey danced in the entranceway, barking and wiggling her nub, but Olivia didn’t share her excitement. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with reporters, disgruntled Halverson employees, or anyone else tonight.
She tiptoed to the front door and pressed her eye to the peephole.
Pete stood on the other side.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Pete stood on Olivia’s doorstep, feeling like his heart was going to jump out through his throat. He had no business here, not after the way they’d left things last night. But he missed her, especially tonight when she was sure to be smarting over what had been done to her website.
The door opened, and Olivia stood there, looking at him with eyes not nearly as warm or vibrant as usual. “What are you doing here, Pete?”
Good damn question. Since he had no answer, he pulled her into his arms instead. Then he was kissing her, and his chest loosened for the first time since he’d left here yesterday. She let out a little moan, her hands tangling in his hair as she stumbled backward into her house and kicked the door shut behind them.
She dragged her mouth from his. “This is stupid.”
“I know.” His arms tightened around her. “I just needed to see you.”
“You dumped me, remember?”
He flinched. “Yeah, I remember.”
She pulled back and stared at him for a long time in silence, waiting for him to make the next move. He could take it back, tell her he’d made a mistake. But as much as he needed her—and he needed her so fucking much—he still couldn’t offer her the future she wanted.
She chewed her lip and looked away. “My website is gone.”
“What?”
She nodded. “Gone. The Facebook page too.”
“The hacker deleted them?”
“Yep.”
“Dammit.” He pulled her back into his arms.
She sighed against his chest, and the sadness in that one sound stabbed deep into his heart.
“I’m sorry. The sheriff’s office has really let you down.” He ran his fingers through her hair, burning with the need to find justice for her.
She peeked up at him with a wry smile. “It looks like Halverson Foods might get their wish after all. I’ve lost all my blog posts and all my followers. There’s no recreating that.”
“Come on, now. The Olivia I love wouldn’t give up, no matter how tough things get.” He heard the words leaving his mouth, but his brain was too sluggish to stop them. A hot, prickly sensation came over his face and spread through his chest.
She sucked in a breath, her eyes locked on his. Seconds ticked by, punctuated by the pounding of his heart and the electricity shimmering in the air between them.
It was just a phrase, it doesn’t mean…but he couldn’t say the words out loud.
He cleared his throat. “You’ll fight back. Start a new blog, do one of those kick-ass posts you’re so good at. Call the news to run a follow-up story about what happened to your last site.”
She blinked. “I could do that.”
“You will.”
“I will,” she whispered.
They were still standing in the entrance hall, her arms around his neck, his hands tightly anchored at her waist. She buried her face against his neck. “Stay with me tonight.”
“I shouldn’t.” Because in the long run, he’d only end up hurting her more.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight. Please.”
“Then you shouldn’t be.” And he walked with her toward the stairs.
* * *
Olivia woke in her own bed, one arm draped across Pete’s chest and a kitten purring in her hair. She shouldn’t have asked him to stay, but she didn’t regret it either.
The Olivia I love.
Maybe it had been merely a slip of the tongue. Or maybe he did love her. He might not even know it yet. For now, she was going to hold on tight and hope he came to his senses before it was too late.
His cell phone buzzed from the bedside table, reminding him to get up and get ready for work. She gave him a nudge, and he grunted, rolling toward her.
“Hold that thought,” she whispered against his lips. “But it’s seven.”
He groaned and buried his face in her hair. Hallie bopped him on the nose. “Goddamn cat.”
“She likes you,” Olivia told him.
“Mm hmm.” He rolled out of bed and dressed in his clothes from yesterday. Then he bent over the bed and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll call you later.”
She nodded.
For a moment, he just stood there, staring at her, guilt heavy in his eyes, so heavy she had to look away. Then he went downstairs and left.
“What are you looking at?” she asked the boxer in the corner.
Bailey gave a dramatic sigh.
“Don’t judge,” Olivia told her. “Someday you may find yourself in this position with a man. Probably not though, seeing as how you’re missing some of your girl parts. What you need is a family.”
Merry had already been talking about sending Olivia a new foster dog, since Scooby had been adopted. Olivia had put her off since things had been so crazy, what with losing her job and moving in with Pete. But today was Sunday, which meant she started her new job at the thrift store tomorrow, and things seemed to be back to normal here at home too. So it was probably time to face the inevitable.
Not that she hated fostering. It just didn’t bring her the same joy it brought her friends Merry and Cara. Olivia would take a picket line over a foster dog any day.
“You’re growing on me though,” she told Bailey.
Then she got out of bed, dressed, and put Bailey out back. She hadn’t had an accident in over a week now, but Olivia didn’t want to push her luck.
She fixed herself a green smoothie and sat in front of her laptop. Today was all about damage control. She needed to get her website back online with a message about what had happened, a scathing blog post that made it clear she refused to be silenced.
Facebook wouldn’t be as easy. Sure, she could start a new page. But there was no way to bring back the thousands of people who’d followed the old one.
But as Pete said yesterday, Olivia had never been one to back down from a challenge. And with that thought, she called Channel Two news and left a message for Diana Robbins, the reporter who’d covered the protest on Friday.
Take that, Halverson Foods.
She typed Citizens Against Halverson Foods into Facebook and was told it was already taken. Yeah, it was. By her. She growled and punched the couch. But what if, since she had to start over from scratch, she made this bigger than Halverson Foods?
On a whim, she typed in “The Face of Factory Farming,” and ding ding, she had a new Facebook page. For a cover photo, she uploaded the picture she’d taken of the chicken that had fallen off the Halverson delivery truck the day she’d washed off her graffiti. A worker held the bird by its feet, with a truck full of birds visible behind.
She wrote a post describing her efforts to gain better protections for factory-farmed animals, chickens—and Halverson Foods—in particular and then set about creating a brand new website for her project.
Around noon, as she was elbow deep in her return-to-the-web blog post, her phone rang. Olivia didn’t recognize the number.
“It’s Maggie,” Maggie said when she answered. “I got your number from Pete.”
“Oh, hi, Maggie. It’s great to hear from you.”
“I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch?”
“That sounds great.” Olivia smile
d. She liked Maggie a lot.
“Cool. I’ll stop by and pick you up so I can meet your foster dog, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” Olivia glanced at Bailey, lounging in the sun by the front window. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”
She hung up the phone and snapped her fingers at Bailey. “Someone’s coming over to meet you. Let’s get you primped.” She brushed the dog’s teeth and trimmed her toenails, then gave her an appraising look. “You’re cute. I’m not sure if she’s actually interested in adopting you, but it never hurts to make a good first impression.”
Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. Bailey barked, dancing in circles in the foyer while she waited for Olivia to open the door.
“Hi.” Maggie stood there in a red pea coat and jeans, her dark hair pulled back from her face in a matching clip. She looked down at Bailey. “Oh, you’re adorable!”
“Come in.” Olivia stepped back, motioning her inside. “This is Bailey.”
“How in the world could you not keep her?” Maggie asked. She squatted and rubbed Bailey’s chin while the dog wiggled with glee.
“I just treat them like I’m dog sitting. I like them, but they’re not mine.”
“Hmmm. Interesting.” Maggie stood. “I’ve been wanting to get a dog. Figured I might go by the shelter sometime and check them out. I don’t really know breeds.”
“You should do that,” Olivia said. “I’ve been volunteering there as part of my community service. They have a lot of great dogs.”
“When will you be there next?” Maggie asked.
“This afternoon actually. I’m scheduled to walk dogs from two to four.”
Maggie’s eyes brightened. “Maybe I’ll come with you.”
* * *
Pete was winding down an uneventful shift when his phone showed an incoming call from Olivia. His stomach tightened, excitement or dread, he couldn’t say. Had something else happened? Or was she just calling to make plans after work?
“Do you know someone named Justin Wendell?” she asked.
“Yes. Why?” Warning bells clanged in his head. There was no good reason for her to know the name of the president of the Omega Chi fraternity.
