Finding Refuge

by J. P. Oliver

  “We’ve got more news,” Mom said, smiling a hundred-watt smile.

  I looked at her as she took my father’s hand and squeezed it. “What?”

  “We were planning on telling you at dinner tonight,” she said.

  “It was supposed to be a surprise,” my dad added. “But I’m starting treatment soon.”

  “What?” I looked between them, but surprisingly, it was Curtis who spoke next with a knowing and gentle smile.

  “The cancer’s slowed down some,” he said. “We evaluated it and it seemed like a good time to act. We’re hopeful that we can slow it down a little more, prolong where we can.”

  Of all the news from today, that was the best of all.

  I looked at my father and he smiled, and I saw the hope in him, too.

  “I bet you’re hungry,” Mom said, leaning on the island.

  The family kitchen was alight with activity: Beth and Robert were busy cooking up a classic Tennessee feast: home-fried hot chicken—Beth’s specialty and Dad’s favorite—with sweet cornbread and fried pickles. Robert, city boy as he was, seemed to know his way around a kitchen and kept in step with my baby sister. It was all topped off with plenty of whiskey Victor had brought over from the distillery to celebrate.

  “You have no idea,” I laughed.

  “Hey.” Curtis grabbed my hand over the table and shot me a look. “Doctor’s orders. We wanted him to eat healthy as hell just to be sure everything was fine.”

  “But now that he’s officially off the diet,” Dad trailed off, raising his glass in a little cheers. Curtis raised his and took a sip before passing it to me.

  I passed, watching him with a small smile.

  I was home now, for good this time.

  It had been a solid week and a half since everything had gone down with Edward Morris, and we were slowly recovering—in more ways than one. The bullet wound was healing up nicely; it helped that I had a doctor around that made house calls to check on it.

  Of course, with the way things were going, those house calls usually turned into sleepovers.

  That day at the clinic had put a lot of things into perspective. It sounds crazy to be thankful for something so scarring, but I supposed I was, in a weird way. It reminded me of what mattered, what I wanted—and that was Curtis. My first night out of the hospital, we talked all night long. Being shot meant I couldn’t finish out my last three months in Virginia, so with an imminent discharge, I laid all my cards on the table.

  Curtis asked me that night why I came back to North Creek.

  I told him it was for him, to come and ask if he wanted to stay with me in Virginia while I finished my term. Being away from him was killing me. I didn’t want a life without him in it; it just wasn’t worth all the trouble.

  That night, he wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me hard. I could have died happy right there, but I wouldn’t let that happen anytime soon—not when the future was so open and possible with him in it.

  Being back in North Creek was surreal, the best possible outcome to a long, confusing dream.

  As Victor and Beth began poking fun at poor Robert for some city slang he’d thrown out of nowhere, and Mom tended to Dad, clinking their little glasses of whiskey together, Curtis looked over at me with a private smile.

  “Hi,” he murmured, words kept between the two of us.

  “Hi.”

  “How’re you feeling?” His eyes skittered over my shoulder.

  I shrugged, and then winced. “Mostly fine. If I just quit doing that for a bit.”

  Curtis laughed quietly and gave my hand a squeeze. His expression was thoughtful, overflowing with an affection that I could feel in myself, too. Mutual. It had always been mutual. I felt the words in my mouth, but he beat me to it, always braver when it came to matters of the heart.

  “What—”

  “I love you,” he interrupted.

  We looked at each other with wide eyes, like neither could believe he’d actually said it out loud. I huffed, amused, and brought his hand to my lips, pressing a chaste kiss to his knuckles.

  “I love you, too,” I murmured as he touched my chin and drew me into a proper kiss that felt like finally coming home.

  If the kitchen wasn’t currently full of my close family members, I would have been happy to make out all night long—and maybe even make good use of this table here—but Curtis stopped me with a hand on my chest.

  “Wait,” he whispered.

  I raised a brow as he turned away and fished in his jacket pocket where it was slung over the back of the chair. Turning back, he smiled, hiding something in his hand behind his back.

  “Close your eyes,” he said.

  I shot him a dubious look before going ahead, because he’d never really steered me wrong in the past. I heard the family’s chatter fall away into silence, the only noise in the room coming from the frying pans. Their eyes were all over me as I waited, tense and impatient.

  “Curtis—”

  “Okay, open.”

  I did, and wound up face to face with a little open box. Inside of it was a ring, perfect and gold and set with a small sapphire. It looked old, maybe even a family heirloom.

  “Curtis….”

  His face was a bit red under his cheeks as he smiled at me—as everyone smiled at me, so bright and anxious.

  “Zach Savage,” he said. “You’re the only man in my life who’s always been there for me. Always made me happy. I don’t wanna spend another day apart from you as long as I life, you hear me?”

  I laughed a little, because holy shit. Holy shit, was this really happening right now? I’d spent so much time thinking I was undeserving of any sort of love, and to be faced with it now—the promise of forever was so much. It was overwhelming and perfect and special, just like Curtis.

  “I hear you,” I exhaled, shaky.

  The others chuckled as he pulled the ring from the box. I offered my hand and he slid it onto my ring finger; a perfect fit.

  “Will you be my husband?” Curtis asked, voice quiet and hopeful. He shook his head suddenly. “I probably should’ve asked before I put the damn thing on you, huh—”

  This time, it was my turn to shut him up with a kiss.

  I felt him melt into it, and for a moment, the world was a celebration, my family clapping and laughing and congratulating as I kissed the love of my life and whispered the promise of, “Yes.”

  24

  Zach

  The wedding was beautiful; it’d be a day to remember.

  Just about all of North Creek had turned out for the ceremony. Five months after Curtis and I got engaged—five months after I’d said ‘yes’ to forever—everything was finally falling into place. An autumn wedding was held on the Savage property and the whole damn town was invited.

  The ceremony was quick. Both Curtis and I knew we didn’t want to do anything long and drawn out, so Aunt Judy married us quick and to the point so we could all do what Savages and Crosses did best: drink and party.

  And party we did.

  It was a night to remember—one hopefully everyone would remember, except for the few folks who were probably on their way to getting blackout drunk. I watched as I danced with Beth while Curtis danced with my mother in his arms, the two of them chatting amicably. It meant the world to me that they got along—they’d always gotten along—and it meant even more to see my mom flit back over to my dad when the song was done. Knowing he was around to see me married was everything.

  Curtis was a social butterfly, and while everyone in town knew me and my family, they all had a real relationship with Curtis. As the town’s best doctor, he had a lot of people to talk to. I watched him bop about and give thanks and hugs as I sat with Victor, nursing a few beers, chatting about nothing.

  “We’re not doing the fucking hustle, man.”

  “Why not?” Victor asked, grinning. “It’s a classic. Every wedding has the hustle.”

  “I remember. I distinctly recall both of us going to J
ason’s wedding and you being so drunk you started doing the electric slide instead.”

  He tossed his head back laughing. “They’re similar!”

  “Mmhm.”

  “Well, whatever. I’ll just slip the DJ a five dollar….”

  As Victor trailed off, I shot him a funny look, waving my hand in front of his face. “You all right?”

  “Uh, wait a second.”

  Victor nodded towards a man as he passed by the table in front of us, skirting along the dancefloor with a drink in hand. He looked to be about Curtis’s age and had an edgy look to him: black hair with blue tips, spiked neatly for the occasion; lean muscle; piercings in his ears and on one of his eyebrows.

  “Who is he?” Victor asked.

  As if sensing us watching him, the man glanced over—at Victor specifically. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn I saw the corner of his mouth tick up just before he disappeared into the crowd.

  Victor tensed. Literally, visibly tensed in his seat.

  I raised a brow, huffing a little laugh. “Yeah. He went to school with us—my year or Curtis’s, I think? Name’s Adrian Cole.”

  Victor looked at me like I’d sprung three extra heads.

  “Adrian Cole,” he repeated, incredulous. “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not. You seem surprised.”

  Victor laughed a little, shaking his head. “I mean, yeah. I’m surprised. Last I heard, Adrian had left town right after high school. And he doesn't look the same.”

  “Well, he’s, like, thirty now, so.”

  “Shut up,” he laughed. “You know what I mean. Last I saw him, he was one-hundred percent goth. Goth clothes, piercings all over, tattoos in high school.”

  I laughed and slapped him on the back.

  As the conversation settled and moved onto other things, my attention kept slipping away, always trailing back to Curtis. He was magnetic in that way, and especially today I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.

  He looked amazing, his hair in loose brown curls, dressed in a finely pressed black suit. As nice as it looked on him, I couldn’t wait to get him out of it. I thought of taking him home and cutting the party short—or maybe just stealing away to someplace private to fool around while the family continued with the celebrations.

  Beyond the white tent, where all the party was held, I spotted a car trailing down the road. It looked like it was just about to pass—before it found a spot on the edge of the lawn, parking itself. The car was black, the windows tinted; it looked expensive.

  “Hey,” I said, nudging Victor. “You know that car?”

  He frowned. “No… I don’t think so.”

  Being the eldest son, Victor felt he had a certain number of responsibilities, and checking out this car seemed to be one of them. He stood and headed over to the car. I fell in place behind him, which caught Dominic’s eye. My other brother, a part of the pack. He joined us, head cocked.

  “What’s going on?” Dominic asked.

  “I don’t know just yet,” Victor said.

  The groom and his groomsmen leaving the party drew some attention. A few of the cousins came up as well, and there was intimidation in our numbers. We weren’t a group to mess with, that was for sure.

  As we got closer to that fancy car, I got a bad feeling in my stomach.

  Victor was squaring his shoulders, putting on his tough big brother front. I half expected him to pull the door open and yank whoever was inside onto the grass, but they beat us to it.

  The door swung open.

  A pair of expensive black shoes stepped out.

  There he was: Winston Savage, in the flesh.

  “You’re fucking kidding,” I huffed.

  Victor’s hands curled into fists and the others tensed as he snarled, “What the hell’re you doing around here, Winston. You’ve got no business—”

  “What?” he asked innocently.

  Winston Savage was the spitting image of Victor, because they were twins. Blonde-haired and brown-eyed, Winston was six feet of bad intentions. He had a look in his eye that set him apart from Victor, one that radiated trouble.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Victor snapped.

  “That’s a little rude. Besides,” Winston said, eyes flickering over to me as he smiled. “You didn’t expect me to miss my baby brother’s wedding, did you?”

  Get ready for book 2 in the Hometown Heroes Series, Seeking Sanctuary!

  Available Soon!

  Seeking Sanctuary

  Get ready for book 2 in the Hometown Heroes Series, Seeking Sanctuary!

  Available Soon!

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  Finding Refuge

  Hometown Heroes: Book 1

  J.P. Oliver

  © 2019

  Disclaimer

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are all fictitious for the reader’s pleasure. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead are all coincidental.

  This book contains sexually explicit content that is intended for ADULTS ONLY (+18).