“You can’t poke and prod and want to know things about my life and then not answer a simple question like who’s calling your phone.”
A muscle in his cheek ticked. “Fair point.”
I gripped the railing, leaning into the wind. “You get to choose which way this plays out. We either talk, or we don’t. We can keep the physical and leave the rest behind.” That’s what I should’ve wanted. To get the high of sex with Crosby without the complication of him knowing things that I didn’t want to divulge. But, somehow, the idea made me incredibly sad.
Crosby’s eyes flared with a heat that seemed to make them almost glow. “Poking at you is too fun to let it go. You’re the most fascinating woman I’ve met in a long time. Maybe ever.” He sighed, rubbing at the scruff along his jaw. “It was my ex-fiancée.”
My body gave a swift jolt. Crosby had been engaged. It didn’t match up with the man I’d thought him to be. He was too reckless, never thought about the future, lived only in the moment. But I’d realized over the past couple of days that what I truly knew about Crosby would fit in my pinky finger. “Do you know why she’s calling?”
Crosby returned his gaze to the ocean. “My closest friend, the one she cheated on me with, dumped her. She expects me to come crawling back.”
I let out a low whistle. “Do you want her back?”
“I’d rather take a header off the back of this boat and aim for the propellers.”
Now there was a hint of the Crosby I knew. “She’s not taking ‘no’ too well?”
“I don’t think she’s ever heard the word before.”
My mouth curved. “Maybe we should set her and Grant up, they seem to have that in common.”
Crosby turned towards me. “He cheated on you?”
“He did.” Once word got around that Grant and I were done, the lovely Lacey Hotchkiss had shared that they’d been sleeping together off and on since the ninth grade. I knew there were others, but the fact that he’d been intimate with someone who had been so cruel to me had almost been more than I could take. But things only got worse from there. “I can’t really bring myself to care about the cheating. But he was my first love—what I thought was love, anyway. Those relationships always carry their own special brand of scars.” Mine were just deeper and uglier than most.
“I guess Alicia was my first love. We met while I was in law school at some charity gala. That should’ve been my first clue to run for the hills. But she was beautiful, charming, fragile. I liked being the one she leaned on. But I never had enough of what she needed.”
“And what was that?”
“Money, success, power. Those were her drugs of choice. She has this pathological need to be at the top of the food chain. I just didn’t see it until it was too late. Have you ever had one of those moments that changes the entire way you view the world?”
“I’ve had two of them.” When Grant left me. And when I lost my girl. I thought I’d never hurt worse than when Grant walked away without a care in the world. But the Universe had a funny way of showing you just what was important. I’d never known what true pain was until the day I lost my daughter.
“I’m sorry.” Crosby had gotten close without me even noticing it, that vital heat seeping out around him. “I’m sorry so many people have let you down. Hurt you.”
“I’m not.” I slipped my hands into the pockets of Crosby’s fleece, bringing us even closer. “It showed me what was truly important in life. Who I could really trust.”
“That’s a high price to pay for those gifts.”
But Crosby was wrong. My mother being a crap mom, disappearing and never even bothering to send a birthday card, Grant breaking my heart and spitting on the pieces…that hurt, but it was a teaching kind of pain. I was grateful for it. But losing my girl before she even had a chance to breathe her first breath? Nothing would ever cost as much as that unfulfilled promise.
That life stolen.
20
Crosby
The weekend kept playing over and over in my mind. Not even a lunchtime ride down the toughest trail on Mount Orcas seemed to clear the image of Kenna’s face from my mind, her eyes filled with a pain that I could only describe as soul-deep.
I wanted to know everything. Every last person and event that had put that agony there. But Kenna would only give me so much. We’d spent Saturday evening tangled in her sheets, but then she’d kicked me to the curb. It was as if she had this invisible countdown clock when it came to time with me, while I always wanted more. And it wasn’t just more time touching her skin, losing myself in her body. I wanted Kenna everywhere and in any way I could have her.
The thought tweaked an itch beneath my skin, the one that wanted to drive back to the mountain and do the ride all over again. The energy that seemed to hum beneath the surface of my skin, growing twitchy at the idea of wanting more with anyone. My hands tightened on the steering wheel. The woman was mysterious, intriguing. That was all. We’d have our fun, and then we’d leave it as friends. Kenna wasn’t exactly giving me any signals that she wanted more, quite the opposite actually.
I smiled as a vision of Kenna popped into my mind, hair mussed and sleepy-eyed, telling me I needed to leave so she could get the eight hours she needed. She’d refused to even get out of bed, telling me there was a spare key in the cabinet by the door so I could lock up. I’d done as instructed, but I was keeping the key.
My phone rang through my truck’s speakers. I braced myself to see a Boston number on the screen, but it was Penny. “Hey, Pen.”
“What is this message you left me? You want me to reschedule all of your afternoon appointments?”
I winced. “Sorry, something came up. It’s important.”
I heard the sound of our office coffee maker in the background. “Important like you decided you needed to go climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, or important like someone’s in trouble, and you need to help?”
I grinned at the windshield. “More like the latter, but Kilimanjaro isn’t a bad idea. Maybe I’ll see if I can talk Ford into training for that.”
“Crosby McCoy, if you even think of trying to climb a mountain that people have died on, I will put salt in your coffee for weeks.”
“All right. No Kilimanjaro.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m not sure.” After spending most of Saturday with Zoe, I was still concerned about her foster placement. Something wasn’t sitting right, and it was time I did a little nosing around. I’d come up with an excuse to stop by unannounced, some paperwork that I needed to go over with Zoe. I just hoped my concerns were unfounded. Seeing and hearing about the worst in people sometimes made me a touch suspicious. But I’d rather that paranoia than letting a child be hurt or neglected.
“You make sure that girl’s okay.”
“I’m doing my best.”
“You’re a good boy, Crosby.”
I chuckled. Apparently, I was eight years old in Penny’s eyes. “Gotta go, getting off the ferry.”
“All right. Call to check in when you’re done.”
“Will do.” I disconnected and navigated the stream of cars disembarking from the ship. Slowly, we made our way down the ramp and onto Shelter Island. I mentally ran through what I’d say to the Calhouns when I arrived. Reminded myself to be charming and not an asshole so they’d grant me access.
I wove my way through familiar island roads before pulling to a stop in front of the house. There were two cars home this time. The station wagon and a pickup truck. Maybe I’d get a feel for Mr. Calhoun, as well.
I climbed out of my truck and made my way up the crumbling walk to the patio and rang the bell. I could hear a tv blaring through the door. I waited. Nothing. I was just about to ring the bell a second time when the door opened, and Mrs. Calhoun appeared, baby on her hip and looking harried. “Mr. McCoy, what are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry to intrude, but I have some paperwork to go over with Zoe, and a few things I need your take on. Do you h
ave a few minutes?”
Mrs. Calhoun glanced behind her towards the sound of the television. “Now’s not really a good time—”
“Who the fuck’s at the door, Meg?” A man stumbled towards the house’s small foyer. His clothes were rumpled, and the scent of alcohol hit me from four feet away.
“This is Mr. McCoy. He’s Zoe’s advocate from the Alliance. He needs to talk to her.”
Mr. Calhoun sneered at me. “The fancy lawyer. The one who bought her all that shit. You know, now our blood kids want to know why they don’t get that stuff.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Calhoun. But I really do need to speak with Zoe.” My hands tightened at my sides, the papers in my left hand crumpling.
“She can’t come to the door right now. It’s study time.”
The girl was nine. I highly doubted she had hours of homework. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist.”
Red crept up Calhoun’s neck and into his face. “This is my house. You can’t demand shit.”
“Brian,” Mrs. Calhoun pleaded.
“Shut up, Meg.”
I pulled out my phone. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to call the sheriff. You’re inebriated, and I have reason to be concerned for Zoe’s welfare.”
“For fuck’s sake, she’s in the closet. She’s fine. And I just had a few beers after work. It’s a man’s right.”
“Did you say she’s in the closet?” My blood began to heat, and I let the papers I was holding fall to the ground. I needed both hands free in case this escalated.
Brian charged down a hall and pulled open a door. I followed without considering whether or not it was a smart to do so. All I could think about was sweet Zoe, scared and alone. The sight that met me had me struggling to keep my composure. Zoe was huddled in a corner with a flashlight and the backpack I’d given her. On the opposite wall of the small closet was one of those potty-training toilets. How long did they keep her in here that they needed a toilet?
“Crosby?” Zoe’s voice trembled, and I saw red.
“Come on, Zo.” I reached out a hand and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go.”
When Brian closed in, cursing and saying he wanted his money for taking care of Zoe, I picked her up, covering one ear and pressing the other to my shoulder. She didn’t need to hear any more of his spewed hatred. I strode as quickly as I could without running. Placing Zoe in the passenger side of my truck, I secured her and then jogged around to the driver’s side to jump in.
I started up the engine and immediately headed for the sheriff’s office. “Are you okay, Zoe? Did they hurt you?”
“No. They just make me stay in the closet after school until bedtime. Am I in trouble?”
My heart shattered on her question and the fear in her voice. “No, Zo. You did nothing wrong. It’s the Calhouns who are in trouble.”
* * *
“Tell me both of those assholes are going away.”
Sheriff Raines met my stare, the set of his jaw hard. “I’ve got two deputies en route to pick them up. A social worker is meeting them there to take custody of their children.”
The Calhouns didn’t deserve to have any children under their care, even if they didn’t lock their own biological kids in a closet. My gaze flicked to Zoe. She was huddled between Callie and a social worker, nibbling on a snack. “They had one of those toddler toilets in that closet, Parker. She said they made her stay in there after school until bedtime.”
“We’re gonna get justice for Zoe.”
“What we’re gonna get is a foster placement that I approve. One that is down with random checks whenever the fuck I want and whenever the social worker wants.”
Just as I finished my tirade, the glass door to the sheriff’s office lounge opened, and the social worker came out. She was young, too young to know what she should be doing. “Sheriff, have the Calhouns been detained?”
Parker took a step forward. “We’re in the process now, Harper.”
“Something that wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d done your damn job,” I added.
The woman flinched. “I’ve done two home checks since placing Zoe with the Calhouns. Nothing was ever amiss.”
“Let me guess, announced visits.”
“I had no reason to believe there was a need for anything else.”
I scoffed. “Not everyone is living in a fairy tale land where people are good just because they claim to be.”
Parker put a palm on my chest, giving me a small shove. “Crosby, back off. You’re out of line.”
I bit back a curse, running my hands through my hair and tugging on the ends. “I’m sorry, but you didn’t see her in that closet.”
“No, but I did just hear all about it.” Tears glistened in Harper’s eyes before she quickly wiped them away. “I’ll do whatever I can to make sure she’s safe. I’ve already lined up placement with a couple I’d trust with my life.”
“I’m getting her a cell phone. You need to make sure she can have access to it and that the foster parents won’t take it away.”
“I think that is a great place to start to make Zoe feel safe. She has a fondness for you and your friend, Kenna. She talked about you both quite a bit. She trusts you.”
A mixture of warmth and pain filled my chest. Pride and terror. I’d do whatever it took to make sure this little girl was safe. “We care about her.”
Harper nodded. “That much is clear. She’s lucky to have you both.”
My shoulders relaxed a fraction. “I’m sorry I was such an ass.”
“Understatement,” Parker muttered.
Harper gave me a small smile. “It’s all right. You’re protective. Zoe needs people like you in her life.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Sliding it out, I stole a quick glance at the screen. “Sorry, I need to take this really quick.”
“Go right ahead,” Harper said. “We have a few minutes before I need to take Zoe to the Wilsons.”
I hated the idea of Zoe being shuffled off to yet another foster home, but it wasn’t like I could take her. “I want to meet them.”
“Sure, you can come with us if you want,” Harper offered.
I gave a jerk of my chin and then stepped away to answer my still-ringing phone. “Jones, what’s up?”
Michael Jones was a clerk at the courthouse. We’d bonded over rock climbing, and he sometimes passed along tidbits of information he overheard in the halls. “I got something you might be interested in.”
“What’s that?”
“That douchebag lawyer, the one you stole a lot of clients from on Anchor?”
I groaned. “I didn’t steal them. They sought me out. But, yeah.”
“Whatever, man. Anyway, he was chatting with this preppy dude, and they were on their way to file some stuff. Contesting a will.” My body went rigid as Jones continued talking. “I heard a name. Harriet Abbot. That’s the sweet old lady who met you for lunch at the courthouse sometimes, right?”
“That’s the one.” My teeth ground together. “Do you know if they filed, or were they just discussing it?”
“I think they filed. I’m sorry, Crosby.”
I muttered a litany of curses that would’ve had Harriet smacking me for sure. “Not your fault. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Anytime. Hey, you want to hit up Black Rock this weekend? Do some climbing?”
“Depends on what is about to blow up in my face.”
“I hear you. Let me know what you decide.”
“Will do.” I hit End on my screen and strode back towards Harper and Parker, who were deep in conversation. “Do you think we could go meet the Wilsons now? I want to make sure Zoe’s comfortable there.” I wouldn’t leave her if she wasn’t, but I needed to get to Kenna, too. This wasn’t exactly something I could tell her in a text. If Ben Hotchkiss was working with the Abbots, they weren’t going to pull any punches.
And Kenna’s worst fears just might become a reality.
21
Kenna
I adjusted my spandex shorts as I slipped my feet into flip-flops, grinning as I went. How was it that leaving work at five o’clock, the legitimate end of the workday, made me feel like such a rebel? Chris had given me a dirty look as I headed out with the majority of the staff, but thankfully, he’d kept his mouth shut.
I needed a hit of that peace I’d gotten with Crosby out on the water. I wasn’t going to ask him to go with me, that would be completely crazy. But he’d left my paddleboard in the boat shed with the kayaks. I was going out to find that damn peace for myself. Because Crosby wouldn’t stick around forever. The allure of whatever he thought was so intriguing about me would fade, and I’d have to be okay on my own. Just like always.
A knock sounded at my door, and I checked my watch, wondering if Caelyn was stopping by with the kiddos. Maybe we could all go out on the water. “Coming.” I headed for the door, pulling it open without even thinking of looking through the peephole first.
A man in his mid-fifties stood before me in slacks and a polo shirt. “Ms. Kenna Morgan?”
“Yes, can I help you?” I felt suddenly exposed. The Gables was set far away from any other houses. I’d gotten so used to having Harriet and her nurse close by, I hadn’t thought much about how isolated this property really was. If I screamed, no one would hear a sound.
The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “You’ve been served. You are required to appear in court at the date and time stated in these papers. If you do not appear, there may be a default judgment against you. Have a good day.”
I stood in my open doorway, unable to move. The paper, just run-of-the-mill white, seemed to burn my fingers. I had the sudden urge to run to the ocean with it, to submerge my hand in the water, and beg the tide to take it away. But that wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t change a thing about the reality in front of me.
My hands shook as I opened the papers. The words blurred, but I could see enough to get the gist of it. The Abbots were contesting Harriet’s will. Challenging whether she’d been of sound mind when she made the changes. And if they were taking this to court, they were going to do everything in their power to win. They always did.
Perfect Wreckage Page 12
