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

by Alyssa Coolen

  “Ah, yes. I heard that the Ashford-Fitzgerald love affair was back in action.”

  Not right now, I thought humorlessly. “Yeah, there’s been a lot going on. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back to you.”

  “No big deal. But now that I have you here, what do you think? A short, sweet interview and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “You’re not in my hair, Caleb.”

  I stared out at the ocean and considered his words. I could do the interview and finally tell my story without my mother filling everyone’s head with the perception she wanted them to have of me. Maybe then people would stop referring to me as the runaway Ashford girl because, Jesus Christ, that was an awful title.

  But I still couldn’t stop the dark thoughts from creeping into my head. What if, somehow, someway, the psycho from New York found me? There was a chance that could happen. He could be keeping an eye out for any sign of me, waiting for me to pop up online or in a newspaper. Something. I hated to think about it, but he could find me and come back and finish the job he started back in the city.

  He won’t, I thought to myself. It’s your paranoia rearing its ugly head. Do you want to live with this fear for the rest of your life? Do you want him to have this much control over you?

  The obvious answer was no. I was so tired of suffering through my days filled with anxiety and letting paranoia creep over me and hold me hostage. I was a twenty five year old career driven woman. I worked my ass off to get where I was and I was never the kind of woman who backed off from a challenge. Was I scared? Yes, terrified. But I couldn’t let him- whoever he was- have this much control over my life for the rest of my life. I couldn’t spend all my time hiding in the shadows and praying that it would all work itself out.

  I needed to be the change.

  I decided what happened next.

  This is my life. I’m taking it back.

  Which was why, two days later, I was sitting in a booth at the Sundown Seafront Cafe feeling like I was going to puke because I was so nervous. As I sat there while he got his laptop, notebook and recorder out I ran through the questions I knew he was going to ask me. He’d ask about my life in New York and how different things were since I came home. Caleb would, inevitably, ask about the attack, I’d been back in Port James for over a month and it didn’t take long for word to get out about what happened.

  “Listen,” Caleb said before we got started. He took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose before blinking a few times and putting them back on. “I didn’t want to do this article but my boss was adamant about getting the scoop on why Abbigail Ashford came home. They were gonna give it to this new guy, Briggs, but he’s a weasel. You’d hate him, everyone does. So, I volunteered. I don’t know, I figured maybe it would be easier for you if there was a familiar face.”

  Reaching across the table I squeezed his arm. “Thank you,” I said softly, meaning it. I really appreciated the fact that Caleb wanted me to be comfortable and having him do the interview helped, but this was going to be weird either way. I needed to do it, though. I needed to prove that I could talk about it and hold my ground. Not have a meltdown.

  He got set up and we began the interview with the questions light and breezy at first.

  “Okay, so for starters, welcome back to Port James. I imagine it’s been an adjustment coming back to a small town after living in a big city for so long.”

  Caleb the journalist was very much a professional and I admired that. Smiling, I nodded my head. “Yes, definitely an adjustment. It was quick, though. Honestly, now it feels like I never even left.”

  He laughed, typed something on his laptop and then looked up at me again. “Have you gotten back in touch with old friends? Or have you been more family oriented since returning home?”

  I took a sip of my latte and pushed Knox’s face out of my mind. “I’d say both. I’m spending plenty of time with my amazing family, who have all been so supportive since I’ve come home.”

  It was the diplomatic answer, but more than that it was true. My parents didn’t give me any grief for suddenly coming home and leaving my job in the city. Robbie was kind enough to move me into his home. Sure, we were all currently giving one another the cold shoulder and not exactly on speaking terms. But the Ashford family is a force to be reckoned with and we all knew that.

  “And friends?”

  “I’ve connected with old friends. It’s been nice. There’s no place like home, you know? Coming back to town after so long felt right. It was the best decision I could have made for myself.”

  “Absolutely. But Port James is a small town. Give me the rundown on what it was like to go from small town Mass to the city that never sleeps.”

  I gave Caleb a play by play on what it was like to live in New York, how hectic my days were and how my internship really shaped and molded me into the person I was today. Keeping my answers diplomatic was easy as I always steered the conversation towards my family and how I never would have ended up successful without them,

  “Your family has been here for generations, correct? Do you see yourself settling down here, or is city life too tempting?”

  Well, that was a loaded question. I paused, really trying to think about my answer. If someone asked me that question last year I would have said I was staying in the city. My whole life was in New York, wasn’t it? My career, my apartment, my whole life was back there. But when I thought about it, really thought about it, I realized maybe that wasn’t true. A pretty apartment and a high paying job wasn’t a life. It was just… surviving.

  Being in Port James was living. Being surrounded by family and friends and going to sleep at night knowing I was loved, that was living. Being in love with Knox was-

  What?

  No, that was just- no. No, I wasn’t in love with Knox. Was I? I mean, yeah, I felt a sense of peace when I was with him and he made my heart beat a little faster whenever he touched me. I pictured a life with him and settling down with him and having babies with him but that wasn’t new or anything, I’d been picturing that since I was fifteen. That was our normal, wasn’t it?

  But then I thought about it. Really thought about it. Spending the rest of my life in Port James where I would always be just another Ashford and everyone knew my name. There would never be any anonymity like there was in the city. Maybe I’d settle down with Knox and we’d have our dinner on the back deck that overlooked the harbor. Maybe I wouldn’t.

  “Abby?” Caleb cocked his head at the side. “Are you okay? You haven’t answered me.”

  I shook my head and laughed. “Sorry! Um, I… I don’t have any plans as of right now. I spent so long having every single day planned out. I’m just… living. You know? Taking it day by day and seeing what happens tomorrow. I could settle down here or in Bora Bora. Right now I’m just enjoying the ride.”

  Caleb gave me a genuine smile and then nodded his head. “Wise words from Abbigail Ashford. I think we could all stand to take a little advice from the runaway Ashford girl. Thank you for meeting me today and thank you for letting Port James into a little sliver of your life.”

  My brows furrowed. “You’re not going to ask me about the attack?”

  He offered a small smile as he closed his laptop and tugged his recording device into his bag. “I was going to,” he said honestly. “My boss really wants the scoop on what happened to you back in New York. But the truth is, it’s not my place. It isn’t my business to ask what you went through. I mean, it is my place because I’m a journalist and this is what I do, but I can’t put you on blast like that. Shit,” he ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. “Maybe I should have let Briggs do this interview after all. He would have beat you with questions.”

  I laughed and put a hand to my heart, emotional at the fact that Caleb was risking a great story just to make me comfortable. I’d never be able to explain how much that meant to me. His support, his gentle kindness had me floored.

  “Thank you, Caleb,” was al
l I could manage with tears in my eyes.

  Chapter 15

  The next night I was tucking myself into bed when my phone went off. I assumed it was Caleb again thanking me about the interview for the millionth time. But when I grabbed my phone off the nightstand it wasn’t my high school friend who had texted me.

  I’m here. Can you come outside?

  I froze, my fingers hovering over my phone. Slinking out of bed and crawling across the floor I peeked over the window sill and pulled the curtain aside where, lo and behold, Knox was standing in the driveway. He was leaning against his truck with his head tilted back, chin pointing towards the sky. Clad in a pair of baggy sweats and sneakers he was sans a shirt. I was half tempted to scream, “What kind of douchebag drives without a shirt on?” but thought better of it.

  What do you want?

  I hit send and it couldn’t have been less than thirty seconds before he responded.

  I just saw the curtain move. Can you please come outside so I don’t have to apologize over text?

  Growling, I marched down the stairs and threw open the front door. Careful as not to wake Robbie, I slipped out quietly and trotted down the front steps. Knox met me halfway with one hand behind his back. Once he was in front of me he brought his hand around revealing a familiar bag with an even more familiar logo on it.

  “I’m an asshole,” he offered.

  I made a small noise of agreement and looked down at my bare feet. When I didn’t take his gift, he dropped his arm and sighed. “Look,” he started and then paused until I looked him in the eye. “I made mistakes when I was younger and I’ve said things I didn’t mean. I can be a mean bastard sometimes, Abbs, and I’m sorry for the things I’ve done to hurt you. But I can’t apologize for defending myself to Logan. I’m not the same man I was five years ago and I hope someday he can see that. But I honestly don’t give a fuck what he thinks. I give a fuck what you think.”

  I worried my bottom lip and thought carefully before I responded. “I’m glad we can agree that you’re an asshole.”

  He laughed and reached out, tucking a hair behind my ear. “I never should have used you as a pawn to piss him off. It was childish.”

  “Knox, I don’t care if my family doesn’t like you. I don’t care if your family doesn’t like me. I-”

  “My mother loves you.”

  “I only care about us being on the same team. Just me and you,” I gestured between us. “We’re on the same side. You can’t just shut me out for days when you get pissed off because things didn’t go your way. I… I know I have things to work on, too. But I want to know that this, us, will always be a sure thing when we’re doubting everything else.”

  Knox nodded his agreement and then cocked his head to the side. “So you don’t want the muffin?”

  “Of course I want the muffin.”

  He bit back a smile and when I reached for the bag he grabbed me and pulled me flush against him. “You’re still kinda cute when you get all pissy.”

  I couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped but quickly tried to cover it up with an icy glare. “No, I’m mean and cold.”

  He dropped the bag and tucked his big hands into the waistband of my shorts. “So mean and cold,” he whispered as he leaned down and kissed me softly.

  I wrapped my arms around him and rested my chin on his shoulder. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “What kind of douchebag drives without a shirt on?”

  I was standing in a kitchen I’d stood in a million times helping bake cookies I baked a million times and it all felt like the first time all over again.

  Knox’s childhood home was different without John’s presence. Everything smelled the same, like fresh air and clean cotton, and the light stained wood floors were the same. But there was a sense of loss, of quiet. The air was different without the man around and I was genuinely baffled how Amy could stay in the house all alone.

  “I just love that Caleb Bishop,” Amy said and sipped her water as she joined me at the kitchen table. “That article was amazing; he’s a very talented young man.”

  I nodded my head. “Yeah, he definitely has a way with words. I think the article came out beautifully.”

  The PJT had been published this morning and the article of the “Runaway Ashford Girl” was on the front page. So far, I received texts from Simone, Caleb and Knox and I got calls from both my mother and father who thanked me for making the Ashfords look like a united front. I was proud of it as well, proud of myself for standing my ground and refusing to hide away. With every passing day I felt stronger, more independent and less afraid of the things around me. Panic attacks were slim to none and my nightmares were nearly completely gone aside from one or two minor ones.

  Things were really looking up.

  “Is he seeing anyone?” Amy asked.

  I arched a brow at the woman who was like a mother to me. “Why? You looking for a hot, young date?”

  Knox shot me a glare from his place on the couch and his mother burst out laughing, shaking her head. “No, but I think you should go out with him if my son keeps giving you those dirty looks.”

  “Hey! I’m very sweet, Ma. Just ask her. I brought her a double chocolate muffin the other night.”

  “Oh, really? And just what did you do wrong this time?”

  Knox’s cheeks turned red and he turned back towards the TV as we fell into a fit of laughter, leaning against each other. It was painfully normal and I was loving every second of it, having no issue of falling back into the routine of both me and Amy ganging up on her son for the sheer fun of it. I had a feeling Knox liked it, too because he kept looking over at us and smiling every now and again.

  “Oh! I almost forgot.” Amy jumped up and ran out of the room only to come back a second later holding a very familiar black bag.

  “Is that my camera bag?” I said in awe as she dropped it on the table in front of me. Dust coated the top of it and I unzipped it, revealing an old Nikon that I forgot about for years. I was swamped with memories as I pulled it out, sliding my hand over the sleek plastic and metal, twisting the lens a few times. “Wow, this is such a trip.”

  Amy cleared her throat and perched on the edge of the table, looking down at me. “I hope you don’t mind, honey, but I put some new batteries in it. I missed my girl and I liked to look at the photos while you were gone. And after John…” she trailed off and Knox turned at the mention of his father, looking at us over his shoulder.

  I was touched that she told me a personal little secret. “No, not at all. I… thank you, Amy.”

  I turned it on and began going through the photos, pausing on a shot of me and Knox laying down on his bed. My arm was extended high as I took the picture and we were both on our backs with his head turned towards me and me smiling at the camera. His dark hair was too long and I looked so young. Blonde. Happy.

  The next was one of Amy and Knox dancing in the middle of this very kitchen. He had her hand in his and he towered over her. She was laughing and smiling up at him, less gray in her hair than there was now. Notorious for wearing her husband’s jackets Amy had on a baggy gray sweatshirt that was falling off one shoulder.

  The next was one that had my breathing halting in my throat. Knox and John on Knox’s twenty first birthday. They each had an arm over the other’s shoulders and were leaned in close smiling for the camera. To this day it amazed me how similar they looked. Same dark hair and same hazel eyes. Even the shape of their faces were the same. But John was bulkier with crows feet at his eyes and streaks of gray at his temples.

  More than half of my memories from childhood were in the Fitzgerald house. In the kitchen or the backyard. Eating their food or shouting across the room like I was a member of the family because, to them, I was a Fitzgerald, too. The day Knox brought me home to meet his mom when I was an awkward, chubby fifteen year old she’d accepted me with open arms. It was a done deal after that. John always made sure his son was being a gentl
eman and Amy was letting me help in the kitchen. She taught me how to bake my first pie and gave me my first “talk”- yes, that talk- and all at once I understood why she refused to sell the house.

  Too many memories.

  Too much love.

  I wouldn’t have given it up either.

  “He was so proud of you,” she said now and smoothed a hand over my hair and leaned down to kiss my temple. “He was so proud of the woman you grew up to be.”

  Tears pricked my eyes and I cleared my throat before turning and hugging her, squeezing her too tight. “I miss him.”

  “I know, honey.”

  We spent the rest of the afternoon going through old photos and eating our combined weight in chocolate chip cookies. As Knox was driving me home that night he had our fingers laced and the windows rolled down, the wind whipping my hair around as he sang along quietly to an old Van Morrison song.

  This. This is what I want.

  The thought hit me like a freight train. Driving in the middle of July with the windows rolled down and Knox’s fingers stroking over my knuckles was exactly what I wanted. I wanted the good, the bad and the ugly that came with being with him. I wanted our petty fights and stupid make up sessions and double chocolate muffins. I wanted Knox. Always.

  “Hey,” I said quietly when we were stopped at a red light. He turned to look at me with a wide grin and I loved those laugh lines that appeared. “I love you.”

  We sat there for a minute and I surprised myself by not freaking out. I wasn’t nervous or scared of his response. I was just… content.

  “Hey,” he said softly. The light turned green and the car behind us beeped impatiently. “I love you.”

  “Good, I’m glad we can agree on something.”

  “Thank God, ‘cause we really don’t agree on much when you think about it.”

  “I know. The fact that you were willing to choose Corona over Budweiser tonight was almost a deal breaker.”