Keep Me Safe: A Small Town Suspenseful Love Story (Port James Book 1)

by Alyssa Coolen

  She slammed against me and I winced, wrapping my arms around her. “You’re home!” she yelled in my ear, jostling me back and forth. “You’re hurt!” she shrieked even louder, jumping back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to jump on you. I’m just so excited.”

  “Don’t be sorry, I missed you so much!”

  Simone ran her hands through her hair and shook it out. It was long and shiny and beautiful compared to my shoulder length, blonde mess. Makeup free as always, her almond colored eyes were bright and lively. Being half Hawaiian left her with a perpetual summertime glow which was yet another thing that my pale, milky self was envious of.

  “I have a great witch hazel remedy that will clear that black eye right up,” she waved her hand frantically, silver bangles clinking. I quickly came to the conclusion that she hadn’t changed a bit and still wore the long, flowy dresses and talked about how she was trying to spread love through her jewelry. “What happened?”

  “Take a deep breath, Sim,” Robbie laughed.

  Sim? When did that happen? I wondered as Simone brought us into her shop. She babbled as I looked around, taking it all in and once again finding myself overwhelmed with familiarity. The white walls were covered with black and white photos and cloth hangings of half moons. High end pieces that she spent hours, maybe even days, on were locked in glass cases. They were all absolutely stunning.

  “Looks like business is going well,” I remarked as she led us up the stairs to the office she also used as her apartment.

  “Business is booming. But I don’t want to talk about that. Are you okay?”

  I wanted to tell her the truth, that I wasn’t sleeping and I was terrified. That I was constantly looking over my shoulder and my panic attacks were becoming a daily occurrence. Robbie and Simone looked at me with dual expressions of concern and I wanted to tell them both how scared I was. But instead I smiled, nodded and said, “I’m fine.”

  “Liar,” they said in unison.

  I didn’t protest and rolled my eyes instead, not trusting myself to speak. They knew me better than anyone. Well, mostly anyone.

  After a little bit of the three of us playing catch up, Robbie stood and jerked his chin in my direction. “Listen, I need to run some errands and finish something up for work. Do you want to come with me so you don’t have to walk home?”

  Walk home? Alone? Knots were already forming in my stomach. “Um, yeah. I- I can walk home. No problem.”

  Robbie cocked his head to the side. “It kind of sounds like a problem. Listen, Abby, you can come with me, it isn’t a big deal. There’s no rule that says you need to be okay with being alone right now.”

  I understood what Robbie was saying and I appreciated his support, but if I couldn’t handle walking a short distance home then I’d really be worried. I was terrified, on edge, and scared of every face that wasn’t immediately recognizable. But I was also a twenty five year old, career driven woman who needed to push past her comfort zone, especially in times of distress.

  With another curt nod, I responded, “I’ll be okay. Really, Robbie. I’m a big girl, I can walk home on my own.”

  He left shortly after that, informing me that he was finishing an outdoor piece for a new restaurant in town. Robbie ran a very successful custom-made furniture company, something that our father didn’t appreciate in the slightest. Not that the prospect of disappointing our dad ever stopped him.

  I couldn’t help but notice the way he smiled at Simone over his shoulder. I wanted to ask her about it but before I had the chance to ask her anything she was throwing questions toward me at record speed.

  “Do they know who did this? What did the police say? Oh, God, what did your mom say? You can stay here if you want. Do you-”

  “Simone.”

  “He doesn’t know you live in Port James, does he? What about you apartment? Isn’t all of your stuff-”

  “Simone,” I said, my voice far louder than usual. I’d lost my cool, just a little bit, and my best friend was looking at me with raised eyebrows.

  It wasn’t her fault. She wanted to know what happened, wanted to know how she could help me. I knew that it was coming from a place of concern and love rather than her trying to be a busy body. But I just. Wasn’t. Ready.

  “The best way to help me right now is to just drop the questions. I’m not ready yet, I’m sorry.”

  Thankfully, Simone didn’t push me to talk about it after that and switched the conversation to all the fun we would have now that I was home. She even convinced me to take some type of yoga class next week and I loathed yoga.

  I listened happily while she chatted away, realizing the more time I spent with Simone and the longer I listened to the waves crashing against the shore the more comfortable I was with being home.

  “I have so any pieces that I want you to take home. Silver looks so great with your skin tone, so try these on.”

  I sat on the edge of her small couch as she clasped a delicate, silver chain around my neck. There was an amethyst stone about as small as my pinky nail in the center of it and it was absolutely beautiful. Understated. Gentle, just like the woman who made it. She had a pair of matching teardrop earrings that she assured me people would compliment me on. But the truth was that I didn’t care about compliments as much as I cared about the fact that my best friend went through the effort of making me such beautiful pieces.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” I said softly.

  “Shush. I wanted to. I was going to mail them to you in New York. But then, um…” Simone trailed off, not knowing what to say as her eyes shifted to my black eye and then down to her bare feet.

  I reached out and squeezed her arm gently. I may not have been ready to talk about what happened, but I couldn’t stand the thought of her feeling awkward or uncomfortable. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just… something that needs to be dealt with.”

  Of course, it needed to be dealt with. They didn’t catch the man that attacked me and effectively ruined my life. There was no sign of him, no fingerprints in my apartment and no signs of forced entry. It was as though he disappeared into thin air, and that sent chills down my spine. But there was no way he knew where I lived, there was no way he knew I came from Port James.

  Right?

  The police suspected he was still in the city and they were positive he had no way of truly knowing where I was. They had my contact information if- when- they caught the bastard. I’d be the first person to be notified when they brought him in. The detective working my case told me the best thing I could do was surround myself with friends and family, and try to heal as best I could.

  “It’s just something that needs to be dealt with,” I repeated, not knowing if I was saying it to myself or Simone.

  She nodded her head and then pasted a smile on her face before straightening her shoulders and pulling her long hair over one shoulder. “Okay, let me make us some tea and I’ll fill you in on all of the gossip. Wait until you hear about what Mr. Michaels had in his basement.”

  After two cups of herbal tea- that I didn’t enjoy- and a witch hazel treatment to my eye, Simone had to open up shop and I needed to go back to Robbie’s and try to get some sleep. It seemed that after any sort of social visit I was plagued with fatigue, something else my mother would blame on a soft mattress.

  My palms were sweating as I gave myself a mental pep talk and tried to prepare myself for the walk home. I thought back to the night of the accident leading up to now and I couldn’t remember being left alone. Either one or both of my brothers were with me, or the family therapist was at the house. I was never alone, though. Maybe my family was just as scared as I was.

  I was heading down the back stairs to the beach when I realized someone was walking up at the same time. I was planning on slipping past the stranger when he looked up and I realized it was no stranger at all.

  Familiar hazel eyes burned into mine.

  My heart stopped.

  “Knox.”

 
Chapter 3

  When I left Port James five years ago, I never expected to see Knox Fitzgerald again. A nasty breakup, a broken heart, and over two hundred miles of distance ensured that we wouldn’t come face to face again. During the few trips that I made home, he’d never tried to see me, and I avoided the places he frequented. I wanted things to be as easy as possible for the both of us.

  Well, maybe that was a lie. Truth be told, I just couldn’t risk seeing Knox. Because if I did, I knew I wouldn’t leave with my heart intact.

  Solid plan, I thought now as we faced off on the stairs. It didn’t take long for me to realize how well he’d aged. His dark brown hair looked windswept and messy, like he’d been pulling on the thick strands the way he used to when we were younger. The lips that I was once completely infatuated with were a pale pink and his jaw was strong. Defined. Which obviously meant I could only imagine how the rest of him looked.

  His dark eyebrows furrowed. “Your eye…”

  The deep timbre of his voice went right through me and a familiar feeling settled low in my stomach. What about my eye? I almost said until I remembered the ugly bruise that surrounded it. Shit.

  I pressed my hand gingerly against the bruise, not knowing what to say. “I look awful, right?” I responded and faked a laugh, frozen on the step I was on.

  Knox peered at me curiously, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he leaned a hip against the railing. “You could never look awful, Abbs.”

  Abbs. My heart thumped painfully against my ribs once. Twice. On the third thump I offered him a weak smile, taking in the blue-green waves behind him as they crashed down. The weather was overcast and the wind felt harsh, mirroring the warring emotions flying through me. But Knox Fitzgerald standing on the beach with angry waves and an overcast sky was the definition of perfection. Had I still been taking photos, this one would have been beautiful.

  “Are you okay?” Knox asked, chin dipped low as he looked at me through his eyelashes.

  He was uncomfortable, I could feel it. Not that I blamed him, I was caught off guard and not in my comfort zone either. One thing was certain, though; I couldn’t handle the heat of his gaze on me and I needed to leave.

  “I’m fine,” I said, my tone firm. “I have it handled.”

  He nodded and said nothing. I could have sworn I saw his eyes travel to my mouth. But no, I was probably just tired. Or maybe he was just looking at my split lip. We hadn’t seen or spoken in five years and, based on the way we left things, I was almost positive the last thing he thought about was my mouth or anything that had to do with it.

  “I have to get back to my brother’s,” I finally said, wanting to cut us both loose from the awkward exchange.

  Knox moved aside as I walked past him, his eyes burning holes in my back as I stumbled ungracefully to the sand. When I turned to say a polite goodbye he was still on the same step with his hands still in his pockets. I opened my mouth to speak but he beat me to it.

  “I, uh, took over the gym after my dad passed last year. I’m there every day if you want to stop by. We could, uh, maybe talk about whatever happened. Or not…” he trailed off and scratched the back of his neck.

  So, naturally, I did the most embarrassing thing I could possibly do.

  I burst out laughing.

  I had no idea why. Maybe it was nerves or because I felt awkward. Maybe it was something else all together. There was nothing funny about being attacked by a stalker and then running into an ex. If anything, the whole situation was painfully unfunny. But still, I couldn’t stop laughing at the absurdity of it all.

  Knox’s eyes widened as I had a laughing fit right there in the sand, my cheeks red as I placed a hand on my stomach. Stop! Stop it now! Awesome. Great job, Abbigail, you fucking lunatic.

  “I’m sorry!” I howled, trying to control myself. For the love of all that is holy, get it together, I thought to myself as he looked on in horror at the laughing maniac with the black eye and split lip. “I’m sorry, I really am. I don’t- don’t mean to laugh. I just… you look so uncomfortable.”

  Knox, to my surprise, smiled down at me. A genuine smile that revealed straight white teeth and crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “You’re crazy.”

  I nodded my head and pulled myself together, clearing my throat and pushing my hair out of my face. Slipping my flip flops off and picking them up, I decided that I wanted to feel the sand under my feet during my walk home.

  “I mean it,” he said. “I don’t know how long you’re in town for and I’m sure you have a ton of people to visit, but come by whenever you want. Whenever you need to, Abbs.”

  Not knowing what to say, I nodded my head. Knox wasn’t the type of man who said things he didn’t mean. Growing up he’d prided himself on being honest, sometimes brutally so. Though he’d be there if I needed him, I knew in my heart that I couldn’t let myself need Knox Fitzgerald again. It ended terribly the first time, and I didn’t think either of us could deal with that again.

  “Thank you,” I said and nodded once more before turning and making my way back to Robbie’s.

  I was stepping up onto the back deck when my phone began vibrating in my back pocket. Looking down at the ID, I saw that it was my mother, presumably calling to talk about “the next steps of me being home.”

  “Hey, mom,” I spoke in a monotonous tone.

  “Sweetie! So glad I reached you,” she cooed into the phone in a voice filled with so much sweetness it could give someone a cavity.

  “I haven’t exactly been unreachable.”

  “Still so sassy after going through such a tragedy.”

  I wouldn’t exactly call the incident in New York tragic, considering there were much worse, actually tragic things going on in the world. But it definitely hadn’t been a good time.

  “Is everything alright?” I asked, wanting to get to the point without being rude. The truth was that I was a bit off kilter after my run in with my still very attractive, very attentive ex boyfriend, and I was bone tired.

  “Oh, yes, everything’s fine. I just wanted to call and see how my favorite daughter was feeling.”

  I managed to refrain from pointing out that I was, in fact, her only daughter.

  “But,” she continued. “Now that I have you on the phone, I… well, I’ve recently been in touch with that boy you used to work on your little school paper with. What was his name?”

  “Caleb?” I asked as I plopped down into the same chair I sat in that morning.

  Caleb Bishop. It had been a while since I'd spoken that name. We’d worked together on the school paper all four years of high school, but the last time I saw or spoke to him was at graduation. He’d been sweet, always offering to help out when my workload was overwhelming, and at least twice a week we stayed after together to work on our articles.

  “Yes! Caleb, such a sweetheart. Anyway, I ran into him when I was out the other day. As it turns out, Caleb is a journalist for the Port James Tribune! How exciting is that?”

  Exciting for Caleb? Absolutely. Exciting for me? Not so much. I leaned my head back and suppressed a groan, knowing exactly what my mother was getting at. Shouldn’t have answered the phone, I thought with a scowl as she chattered away in my ear.

  “His boss is just dying to hear from you, Abbigail. They want to know all about the runaway Ashford girl. Doesn’t that title have a perfect ring to it?”

  “No, because I don’t want to be referred to as a runaway.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a baby. I think it would be great exposure for you, sweetheart. I really do. Don’t give me an answer yet, just promise me you’ll think about it.”

  I clenched my jaw and then stood, stomping into the house while trying to even out my breathing. I’d been home for less than a week and already my mother was trying to hurl me into the spotlight. All I wanted to do was heal in peace, get my bearings, and figure out my next steps.

  There was no malicious intent in my mother’s
actions. She thought that by helping me socialize she was helping me heal because, well, my mother didn’t know what else to do. In her mind, a party or a function or attention was the best way to move forward after trauma or loss. After my grandfather died, she threw a big party at our family home. After we lost a cousin to an overdose, she threw a charity function in the middle of town.

  “I’ll think about it,” I finally said as a headache started to form behind my eyes.

  As I lay in bed that night- on a mattress much too soft for my mother- I stared at the ceiling and thought of Knox. The way he used to hold my hand and press my knuckles against his lips and the way he held my face between his big palms as he kissed me. So much control and a silent, subtle dominance. He’d owned my heart from the time I was fifteen. With one look, I was a goner.

  I smiled, remembering the first time he’d kissed me. It was at Logan’s seventeenth birthday party. Our parents allowed Robbie and Logan to have a bonfire at the beach with all their friends but I wasn’t allowed to stay out any later than nine. Always the rule breaker when we were younger, Knox snuck me out of the house and walked me through the sand dunes, holding my hand the entire time. I was on such a high from breaking the rules and holding a cute boy’s hand that I didn’t realize he was pulling me in for a kiss until it was already happening.

  At the time I was nervous and awkward and chubby. I had no idea how to kiss- what was I supposed to do with my hands?- and let him grab my face and slide his tongue in my mouth.

  “Is this okay?” he’d asked me as we stood in the sand, the wind whipping around us.

  I was unsure of myself but nodded anyway. Truthfully, Knox could have been asking me to dispose of a dead body and I would have said yes. I’d been so awestruck from the kiss that I didn’t even know I was nodding until he was leaning in again.