8. Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Nova
D riving into Sentinel for the first time in seven years, my hands trembled slightly on the wheel of my Mazda3. Anxiety gnawed at me.
As the familiar landscape of rolling hills and dense forests came into view, a wave of nostalgia washed over me, mingling with the trepidation that had been my companion since I'd left.
I remembered the last time I'd driven this road, leaving behind everything I owned, riding in a car with strangers who were kind, and who were not asking the question they wanted to: Have you been raped?
I had not slept during that drive. I had sat in the car, staring into space, letting the blood around my nose dry, letting my face that Carre had punched ache.
My lawyer had suggested a hospital close by, but Emmett's assistant had insisted we see the Bodine family private physician in Savannah to avoid a paper trail.
He had stopped at a 24/7 Walgreens, to get me some bandages and painkillers. The assistant, for all his practical sternness, held my hand as we drove. He didn't ask stupid questions like, " are you okay ," because it was obvious I wasn't.
They'd whisked me away as quickly as possible. My physical condition, plus the fact that Sentinel was owned and run by the Larue family, had worried my lawyer, making him want a fast escape.
I couldn't really remember the drive clearly. My heart had been shattered by accusations of theft, and Anson's cold abandonment.
Now, I was back in Sentinel Heights, working on a project for the Larues. The irony wasn't lost on me.
The town itself was a mix of the familiar and the new. The old brick buildings still lined Main Street, their fa?ades a little more polished than before. New shops had sprung up, and the streets seemed busier, buzzing with an energy that hadn't been there when I left.
As I drove past the town square, I noticed the old oak tree in the Sentinel park, where Anson and I shared our first kiss. I’d finished my shift at the diner, and he was patiently waiting for me, just like he had been since the day we met.
We held hands late in the night as he walked me home. It had been so romantic, with a full moon, and me leaning against the tree. I was in my hideous, gray diner uniform. I couldn't imagine how a man who looked like Anson, who was Anson, could be interested in me.
"You're amazing, you know that?" he whispered as he stroked my cheek with a finger, his blue eyes smiling into mine.
No one had ever looked at me the way Anson had. No one had ever seen me as precious. Even Mama, who had loved me in her way, was hard—life had not been kind to her, so, she didn't know how to be kind to anyone. She took responsibility for me and wanted better for me, but had been resigned that I'd end up just like her, working on my back. Memaw had been too ill for most of my life to see me as anything more than a burden or a caregiver.
Then came Anson with his exuberant smile and his affection. It was addictive to have anyone care about me, and I had soaked it in. Even then, at seventeen, I hadn't been stupid enough to think that Anson and I would have more than a summer romance. Men like him used women like me; Mama had taught me that. But I was all alone in the world, struggling to finish high school, having no friends, no family, no one—and Anson had been a reprieve from the universe, a gift for a short moment to soothe some of the wounds.
"I want to kiss you," he whispered, leaning into me. I couldn't even feel the bark of the tree against my back, I was so mesmerized with him, drowning in his eyes that were filled with arousal and warmth. "Will you let me?"
I nodded shyly.
I'd never kissed a boy. It wasn't like I didn't want to, but I was scared. As the daughter of a prostitute, my entire life, since I became aware of that truth, had always been about not being perceived to be like her.
For Anson, I threw caution to the winds and grabbed my happiness with both hands.
He dipped his head and first just brushed his lips against mine. I moaned softly.
"Open, Nova," he coaxed, and I did, giving him entry, letting his tongue slide into my mouth, letting a man inside me for the first time in my life.
His kisses were deep, drugging. He raised his head, his eyes hooded, and a flash of triumph went through me. I aroused him. Me!
I cupped his cheek, madly in love with him. He turned his face so his mouth was hot against the palm of my hand. He licked it and groaned.
"You're so fucking sweet."
He pulled me to him then, away from the tree, away from safety, and into his arms.
"You're delicious, Sugar," he breathed and kissed me again.
Sugar!
When he called me that at Savannah Lace, my body had leaped in recognition of his voice, of that word, and then cringed at his tone, which was equal amounts disgust and malice.
I knew that coming to Sentinel would bring back painful memories. If Anson and I had ended softly, I would've looked back and smiled, happy for that first kiss. Now, I felt used. After taking care of myself for so many years, I'd given up my love, my heart, and my body to a man who'd been careless with me.
As I drove, I was assaulted by images from the past. The memories tugged at my heart, a bittersweet reminder of what once was. I forced myself to focus on the road, pushing my heartbreak, which hurt anew, to the back of my mind.
I had left Savannah early so as to not be late for the meeting and have some time to meet a friend from the old days.
Smiling, I pulled into the parking lot of Maureen's Diner. It had been a sanctuary during my turbulent teenage years. The exterior was freshly painted, and the neon sign still flickered with the same comforting glow.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the car, and walked inside. I wasn't sure how I'd be treated. The Larue family still owned Sentinel. I doubted that between Alma, Bailey, and Pete, they'd kept my being accused of stealing from the Larues a secret.
The scent of coffee and fried food hit me, instantly bringing back memories of long shifts and familiar faces. Maureen, the diner's owner, stood behind the counter, her silver hair pulled into a tight bun, her plump figure wrapped in a floral apron. Her blue eyes lit up when she saw me.
"Nova King, as I live and breathe!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "Look at you, girl, all grown up and back in town!"
I couldn't help but smile. "Hi, Maureen. It's good to see you."
She came around the counter, and pulled me into a hug. Immediately, I calmed. The scent of vanilla filled my nostrils. I closed my eyes and just allowed myself to feel for a moment. I had always lived my life by tightly controlling everything inside of me and around me, leaving me never rested and never relaxed. But standing here with Maureen, a sense of peace washed over me.
She pulled away and led me to the counter. "Come on, rest your load. Let me get you a cup of coffee. You look like you could use one."
I slid onto a stool, the familiar creak of the vinyl a comforting sound. Maureen poured coffee for me in a brown diner cup. I wrapped my hands around it, savoring the warmth.
"So, what brings you back to Sentinel?" she asked, leaning on the counter.
I sighed. "I'm going to be working on Sentinel Heights."
Maureen's eyes went as wide as the saucers she served hash browns on. "You don't say!"
I laughed. "I work at an architecture and design firm in Savannah. Larue Homes contracted us for this project and…." I paused, wondering if I should tell her that Anson asked for me. "Mr. Larue wanted me to project manage."
She snorted. "Anson Larue wanted you to do this? Girl, tell me you ain't that stupid."
I picked up the coffee and took a sip. "No, ma'am. I'm not."
"He's engaged to that bitch now," Maureen quipped. "Can't stand her! She thinks her shit don't smell like everyone else's. Alma has a boyfriend. A lawyer from Atlanta, and the rumor is that she keeps on askin' him to propose to her, and he keeps holdin' her off."
The thing with small towns was that everyone's business was out in the open. This meant that whether you liked it or not, people would talk about what was going on in your life at the diner, at the supermarket, in church, at the bar…everywhere.
"Why the heck is he doin' that?" I asked as I knew I was supposed to.
Maureen cackled. Even when I first knew her, she had been old as dirt—but somehow, she'd managed to not age a day. "The rumor goes that Tyler Henderson is stringin' her along 'cause he has a girl in Atlanta that his daddy don't approve of."
I nodded gravely.
"I think he's waitin' on havin' his daddy calmed down so he can marry his girl."
"And Alma doesn't know?"
Maureen made a face. "Sure, she does, girl, but she's thinkin' that she can bring Tyler to heel."
I drank more coffee.
"Now, have you heard about Abe Munson?" she asked, referring to a boy I went to high school with.
"That he's made it big in Hollywood?" I winked at her. The high school Facebook page I lurked on had given me a lot of details about the residents of Sentinel.
"Can you believe that? That skinny black kid is now making movies with Denzel Washington." She shook her head, her eyes laughing. "Always liked Abe, I did."
She gave me an update on everyone. The divorces, the weddings, the babies. The former mayor had been found cheating on his wife with his daughter's friend from college. The Sheriff had a gambling addiction, and his wife was always threatening him with divorce and taking their two little children to parts unknown.
"The Sheriff is Pete Fontaine, I assume."
"You know it. His daddy retired, and that sumbitch took over. He's still got his nose up Anson's ass so far that it's nearly black now." She let out a harsh laugh.
Pete Fontaine had been sniffing around the rich folk in Sentinel for as long as he'd been alive, but he always had a special propensity for Anson.
"Now, you know that bitch Bailey's daddy lost all his money?"
I quirked an eyebrow. This I didn't know.
"That's why she's workin' for Anson," she huffed. "They say that she asked him to set her up, and he said, hell no, we ain't married yet. She wanted to move in with him in the Larue mansion, and guess what he said?"
I waited.
"He said, hell no . I don't think they're ever gonna get married. It's been six months since they got engaged, and no date set yet. She wants to but he won't let her, says he's busy, bless his heart. But you know, when a man doesn't want to set a date, he gave you a ring to shut you the hell up, not ‘cause he wants to marry you."
It shouldn't have given me hope that he seemed reluctant to marry Bailey, so I squished it under my stiletto heel. Whatever happened between Bailey and Anson was none of my beeswax. He was never going to be mine again.
"Say you're mine, Sugar," Anson demanded as he entered me slowly for the second time that glorious night we made love. "Say it, baby, I need you to ."
I had said it, and I had meant it. What a stupid thing for me to do.
"Anson's been good for the town. And this Sentinel Heights thing…it's gonna change things for us, bring in people and money." Maureen patted my hand. "But girl, you know he's only gonna try and hurt you. The whole town was in an uproar when you left like that, without sayin' nothin' to no one. The Deputy Sheriff started a rumor that Eileen was also stealin', and all that. There was a rumor about you whorin'. You understand I'm not sayin' this to hurt your heart."
I smiled wanly. "I know, Maureen." She wanted to protect me, and like Trevor, she wanted me to get the hell out of here.
Maureen lowered her voice, leaning in closer. "How do you feel about seein' him again?"
I hesitated, the old wounds still raw. "I already saw him once in Savannah. It's fine. I'm here to do a job."
I'm fine! I'm fine! If I kept saying it, I hoped, eventually, I'd believe it. Eventually, it would become my truth.
She nodded knowingly. "Well, just know that not everyone believed the rumors about you. I told Anson straight up that there was no way you'd steal a damn thing. You wouldn't even take a sugar packet that didn't belong to you."
"Thanks, Maureen."
Her words were a balm to my bruised spirit. As I looked around the diner, I realized that, despite everything, this place was still comforting and homey.
"You come back and see me again?"
I nodded. "Yes, I will. I'm going to be in and out of Sentinel for this project."
"If you need a place to stay, the apartment above the diner is empty. You say the word, and it's yours."
I couldn't stay the night here. I couldn't risk it. I was afraid of being arrested by Pete again. It was irrational because there was no reason for that to happen. I was not a criminal, but I hadn't been one the last time, either.
I had told Trevor about my fear, and we'd decided that he would be able to track my phone. He expected me to call him every evening at six to let him know I was okay while I was in Sentinel. I agreed because it made him and me feel safer.
The fact that I had to do so much to feel secure made me wonder again why I'd not just told Nina that I couldn't do this, that I didn't want to.
I knew why. My pathetic heart wanted to be close to Anson, even if it meant that it would break again.