She took a step back and grabbed the shirts from the bed. “I need to go.”
With hurried steps, she abandoned him in the bedroom, ran down the hall, swiped the coat from the rack, and jerked the front door open. The winter air greeted her inked skin like a dip in the arctic, but she pushed it away to scurry to the Saturn. Its squeaky door hinges scraped across her raw nerves as she plunked her sorry rear in the seat.
She could barely register what had just occurred. Her foot gunned the front wheel drive into fishtails to mount the slope. Her only thought—get home. Something akin to self-hatred flogged at her psyche. The saliva flowing to her throat nearly choked her. Dear God, in heaven. What had she done? She was her old vile self again, luring men into falling for her.
Once home, she fled the car to scramble into the house to pitch the contents of her arms to the floor. Ake’s shirt with the insignia, My God is An Awesome God, landed on the top of the heap. Great balls of fire, she’d stolen the man’s shirt. With a groan she swiped it to her face and inhaled his scent. A shirt? She lamented taking a shirt? A piece of clothing was easily returned. But his heart? How would she restore that?
She dragged to the couch, the one Ake had carried in for her, and melted to the comforting cushions, still clutching the material of his shirt. The fireplace hearth glowed red beneath the gray ashes. She’d ignited something in that innocent man. This little façade had started out far left of true love. How could she have let it balloon into real feelings? Seeing the candor on his face pierced her soul, and she had no doubt he’d blurted the truth. Surely machine-gunning toddlers couldn’t feel much worse.
She slipped Ake’s shirt on and smoothed it against her skin. The long sleeved t-shirt covered every inch of inked skin. A sob rumbled up her throat. Dear God, he was still protecting her. She’d crushed his trust, and yet he loved her. She curled up into a ball and wept.
Chapter Sixteen
Ake had heard the door slam some time ago, yet he still stood frozen in the same spot in his bedroom.
He’d known it for a while, or at least he’d sensed something powerful had woven its way through his heart and soul. Maybe it had started the moment he’d laid eyes on her, or perhaps the day she’d coached him on how to kiss her. Or more likely the instant her soft yielding lips had touched his. It hadn’t mattered one iota that the entire scene, the whole dating scheme had been fake. It had happened anyway.
What made him flinch was knowing he’d announced it to her, watched her cringe, saw her face pale with shock. Pure rejection. He took a breath and sank to the side of the bed. Could he have stopped it? She was soft and pliant, pouring out her most intimate secrets and fears to him. Bonding at full throttle. And the words had just exploded from his mouth.
Only now…now had been transformed to awkward. Like being shot down by his crush in the hallway outside of study hall. In front of the entire school body. At least he’d done it one on one this time. He face palmed himself. Dummy, that didn’t even count compared to this fail.
He rose. It didn’t matter. Just add it to the long list of missed desires and longings that he’d acquired over the years. He headed for the garage. It wouldn’t paint itself. Perhaps over time the intensity binding his gut would lessen.
The paint had skimmed over in the pan by the time he’d leaned over to grab the handle of the roller. He removed the sticky glop and plopped it into the trash before adding more. As he rolled the white paint across the mudded drywall, his memory visited Stormi’s tattoo, meandering the sexy design over her delicate arms. He relived tracing the lines clear to her wrist while she stood there.
Suddenly he realized he’d stopped the roller mid-stroke. Put it away, man. It’s all you’ve got of her now. Think about it later. If memory served him correctly, she would now distance herself from him. Like a man with leprosy. He shoved all thoughts away and finished the wall in minutes.
Since the weather the following week crept up to thirty-eight, Hoge rustled all of them to the boats. Relief coursed through Ake as the plodding engine sent them out to sea. Normalcy had returned. Delusions of love receded to the back of his mind. Mostly. He hadn’t heard from her. She was right on schedule. No doubt they’d bump into each other at the grocery store or at the Grill, and he’d be like, hi, and she’d be like, creeping away. He couldn’t wait.
“Hand me that wrench,” Hoge’s’ voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Ake stepped over, snatched it up and handed it to his brother in the wheel house.
“What’s up your craw?”
Ake couldn’t look him in the face. The whole mess was still too raw, and his brother knew his every thought just by glancing at him. He shrugged and stepped to the aft, shoving his gloved hands deep into his pockets. The last thing he needed was an “I told you so” lecture from Hoge.
Neff, Jeff and Delbert struggled with a tangle in the net and Ake jumped in, keeping his head down. He needed to concentrate. Ripping skin open today couldn’t be added to the agenda. His whole focus had to be on the task at hand. No wandering thoughts. No mistakes. That would be a dead giveaway, and he wouldn’t risk it today.
The knotted strings aligned, and Ake stepped away, bellied up starboard, and set his gaze on the horizon. He’d pray for Mom and Pop then tag on Stormi for good measure. But he wouldn’t dwell on her. He’d do that later. Much later.
***
Stormi paced her one room apartment, letting her bare feet slap the freezing cold concrete below her while slapping her head with her hands. She’d barely slept the last week. The guilt of Ake’s love squeezed the life from her heart. She’d barely managed to finish her podcasts for the week. How could her entire existence have dwindled to trying to think of ways to torture herself?
Poor Ake. Poor pitiful Ake. She could barely think of anything else. Her eyes darted to the clock. She figured Hoge had pressed them all into service today. The temperature neared forty for the first time in months. A moan crawled out of her throat. Ake had slashed his arm the day she laid those kisses on him. What would happen today?
She grabbed her coat and zipped it on her way out. Exercise might just focus her brain. The cold air bit at her cheeks, but she marched on and yanked the teal beanie on her head. Her boots crunched in the old snow still resisting the melt of the temperature. But then, two feet of snow disappeared slowly.
After several minutes she realized she strode past Hoge’s house. Good grief, add cruelty to anguish and give it a swish. Someone in a thick yellow coat worked their way to the curb. Joni. Could there be a worse moment?
“Stormi, hi.”
Her eyes slid closed in dread. Keep walking or acknowledge the torment about to follow? Stormi paused. Ake deserved her best. She turned. “Hey.”
Joni slid the mail from the box and shut it with a snap. Stormi eyed the large mailbox and wondered vaguely if she could fit inside.
But Hoge’s wife smiled and waved her over. “Coffee?”
Yes, a cup of black plague, please, with a side of melba toast sprinkled with smallpox. Stormi forced a smile to her face. Joni’s smile was far too welcoming, and it smote her further when she linked arms with her and tugged her to the front door.
“Don’t worry,” she laughed. “The kids are all at school. Nothing but peace and quiet within.”
A shiver of self-revulsion skittered across Stormi’s nerves. It may be peace and quiet inside Hoge’s house, spiced with fresh coffee, but internally, nothing but murkiness, sulfur, and loathing. She plastered a semi-smile to her face.
“Park it here, girl. I’ve been dying to talk with you. You know, without Hoge.” Joni pulled the coat from her shoulders and hung it on a chair before opening a cabinet and pulling down a couple of mugs. “I’ve got fresh banana bread. Up for a piece?”
Stormi forced out a laugh that sounded more like she was strangling. Maybe she was. “Uh, no. You must be the dessert queen. You had dump cake the last time I was here.”
Joni chuckled and set a hand to her hip.
“Have you seen the Pearson brothers? They can put away the food. Besides, Hoge’s soft spot is dessert. Don’t tell him I told you that.”
“Trust me, your secret is safe with me.” Had she ever spoken truer words?
Her companion sliced up a thick slice for herself, lathered it with butter, and popped it into the microwave. “Sorry, gotta have some. I must keep up my girlish figure.”
Joni set a cup of coffee in front of Stormi, and she stared at the dark brew while her companion removed the bread from the microwave. Oh, good. The interrogation would now commence in three, two—
“All right, tell me the scoop.” Joni settled into the chair opposite her.
The perfect spot to detect any and all expression changes. Stormi put on her best blasé expression. What to go with? Tell her the truth about her relationship with Ake being a hoax, or go with the lie. A strong desire to thunk her head to the hard tabletop washed over her. Instead she gave a false smile. Lie, lie, lie.
“What scoop do you want?”
“You know, how are things with you and Ake? You’ve not been over again for a couple of weeks. I was just wondering how things were going.”
Stormi shored up the need to blurt. “Fine.”
Joni’s brow rose, a disappointed tug at her mouth. “Fine?”
“Well, you know. We’ve not really known each other that long.” Stormi sipped the scalding hot brew. Her throat screamed. Yes, more punishment. Please, bring it on.
“Sure. I understand. But I’m excited Ake found someone. He’s been alone so long. And high school was just a nightmare for the poor guy.”
Ugh, swords and foils pierced Stormi’s soul. The unusual companion of tears rose up her throat. Oh, no. No, no. Not now. No break in demeanor was allowed. She clenched her jaw and let anger rise up to take its place. How dare Joni ask such questions?
“I hardly think I need to discuss this with you.”
Stormi cringed at Joni’s hurt expression. One kitten drowned, now two.
Joni rose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. Forgive me.”
The tears fought harder for exposure. No. no, no. Oh, dear heavens, not just tears, sobs. Stormi pressed her head into Joni’s tabletop, too weak to stifle another, as her shoulders shook with the depth of the emotion.
“Oh, Stormi. Shhh.”
Joni embraced her from above, but she could do nothing but allow the horrible waterworks full rein. She couldn’t stop it. Like the Niagara, the falls tumbled forth, regardless of any attempts to block it. After what seemed like way too long, Stormi straightened, and Joni pushed a bundle of tissues her way.
“Sorry,” Stormi mumbled. Could she be a bigger idiot?
Joni sank into that blasted chair, and she could feel her companion’s eyes cook her with their intensity. She glanced up. Glory, hallelujah, pity rested in Joni’s pupils. Stormi closed her eyes. This couldn’t be happening.
“What happened? Did you break up?”
Stormi jumped from the table and cast her gaze out the small window over the sink. “No.”
Joni stood. “Then what?”
She licked her lips and fought herself for a moment. When she could hold it no longer, she let it go. “He loves me.”
A slow smile stretched across Joni’s plump face, but then eased to a frown. “What’s wrong with that? Unless—”
Stormi blinked as realization washed over Joni. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and condemnation entered her eyes.
“Oh. Oh, dear.”
Go for the gusto. Stormi pulled her arms out of her coat. “I never planned for it to go this far. Really. I’m not fit for him, anyway.”
“I think you’re just not giving yourself a chance, Stormi. He’s great. I know some might think he’s a little on the slow side, but I assure you, you’ll not find a more perfect gentleman. Hoge included.”
She flopped the coat to the chair and grasped the bottom of her long sleeved shirt. Best to give her the goods, so she’d shut her mouth. Stormi whipped the overshirt from her body and stood shivering in a camisole, inked lines snaking the full horrid picture. Joni did not disappoint. Her mouth flew open.
They stared at one another for a moment or two. Then Joni shut her mouth. Tightness edged her mouth into a pucker. Her eyes came to rest on Stormi’s once more. Hammer it home.
“You see, I had no right to latch onto him. Hoge was right. So very right. I’m scum. Dirty scum. Marked and used by men over and over like a cheap escort. I don’t deserve any man’s love, let alone Ake’s.”
When Joni continued to stare, Stormi snatched up her shirt and coat. “Hate to crush and run.”
Stormi sped for the front door. She shoved through it and yanked the coat back on her arms. She longed to stuff her shirt into the mailbox, but decided she’d done enough damage for the day. Instead, she shoved it into a wad in her pocket.
“Stormi.”
Joni’s voice echoed behind her, but Stormi only broke into a run. No more. No more. Enough abuse today, please God. She ran until she couldn’t breathe. But the deprecating self-hatred only blossomed in her oxygen-deprived body. Back in her driveway, she stopped and leaned over, hands on thighs, body throbbing, gasping for breath. She’d do anything, anything to fix this mess.
***
Ake put another spoonful of Joni’s chicken casserole into his mouth. It was one of his favorites, although it seemed made of dust tonight. But Joni’s sympathetic eyes fed his desire to eat the same amount he always did. Yeah, and dessert rested over on the counter. Pineapple upside-down cake. Hoge’s favorite.
The thought of baked tropical fruit on his tongue disgusted him. With his love of food, it would be logical he could eat like he ordinarily did. Acting relatively normal hadn’t taken much effort, given he was quiet to begin with, but eating. It presented a challenge. But he’d push through.
Mom patted his hand. Joni knew something. Had she shared it with Mom? Likely not. His mother had her own sharply-tuned emotion antennas. Pop picked up his spoon to butter his rolls. Thank the good Lord for distracting Mom, even in the saddest way.
“How was the catch this week?” Mom asked once Pop’s roll was finished.
Ake let Hoge answer. Ake could tell her exactly how many fish they’d pulled in and what species, but he let his brother give the approximate. Joni’s eyes raked him again. Something was up with that. “Think I’ll go find Lucy.”
“What? No dessert?” Joni protested.
Ake’s stomach clenched. “Why sure. Get it ready while I spend some time with my niece.
He rose and pulled the door open to the basement. His niece had hightailed it down there moments before to talk to herself in her little kitchen, and Ake could think of nothing more comforting than to eat her pretend cooking. He arrived at the bottom of the carpeted stairs and wasn’t disappointed. She was ensconced in her play corner, setting a doll into a small high chair.
“Now you eat your vegetables, Baby. They’ll make you grow,” Lucy admonished the glare-eyed doll, lips pursed for a bottle.
“Got any vegetables for your old uncle?”
His pint-sized niece beamed, her curls bouncing. “Sure. You sit here.”
Ake eyed the short plastic chair snugged up to the kid-sized table. Instead he went to his knees and bellied up to the plate.
“I better do this or I’ll bust your chair.”
She giggled, pranced over, and head-locked him in a hug. “Okay, Unca Ake.”
Lucy puttered around, chattering and taking on the mom persona to a tee. Ake grinned, enjoying the distraction she set up for him.
“Eat your carrot, now.” She pushed the plastic orange chunk towards his lips.
“Thanks.” He took it from her only to be offered fake lettuce and a wad of corn.
His niece laid her arm across his shoulders. “When you and Stormi get married, can I come to your house?”
His stomach lurched, and he rose, sweeping the small arm from him. He gave the least argumentative answer
. “Sure.”
He turned, intending to stride to the loveseat nearby. Enough food. Plastic or not. And enough probing conversations. Joni stood at the bottom of the stairs. From the look on her face, she’d heard the whole interaction.
Chapter Seventeen
“Hi, Mommy,” Lucy chimed.
“Hey, Pumpkin. Go upstairs and get your dessert. Eat it at the table.”
Lucy set more food on the plates at her tiny table. “In a minute.”
“Now.”
The child glanced up. Joni’s tone expressed no excuses.
“Okay.” Lucy headed for the stairs.
Joni crossed her arms. Great. He was cornered. Lucy thundered up the steps behind his sister-in-law.
Her face pinched. “Marrying Stormi, are we?”
He rubbed his beard. “Not we, me.”
Her eyes closed momentarily. “That the truth, Aiken Ellings Pearson?”
He straightened. Why did everyone treat him like a kid? He shrugged and crossed his arms.
Joni must have realized her gaffe and stepped forward with her hands out. “I’m sorry, Ake. But she’s just not the woman for you. You’ve got to understand that.”
“I know.”
Her brows snugged together. “You know? I thought—”
She censored herself and Ake continued to stare at her.
Finally, she walked closer and laid a hand to his arm. “Ake, tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing’s going on.”
Her eyes searched his face. “But you love her.”
His jaw clenched. Had she guessed that? Was it written plainly on his face for all to see? “I never said that.”
“She did.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he was relieved to know the beard concealed it. “When did you talk to her?”
The Secret Storm Page 14
