Chapter 19
Carrie
Present Day. Astoria, OR.
The bell above the door jingled as it opened, a cold winter breeze following the customer inside along with some snowflakes. The holidays had come and gone, but we still had months of winter left. Snow covered the ground and ice covered the streets, but I was still head over heels for Astoria.
“Welcome,” I greeted, giving them a smile before returning to my orders, clicking on the latest release from this month’s featured author. Every month for the last six months, Rossy’s Books had been hosting a small author signing during the last weekend. It was something Sarah had always wanted to do, and she passed it over to me.
She knew I needed it.
I needed the distraction.
The bounty hunter never came back, and I was hurt— gutted.
I was heartbroken over a stranger, and it made me feel like a fool.
After a month had passed, the hope still remained, but then another month passed, then another. By the third month, I was broken in a way my father’s shit or Robert’s death could never achieve. Sarah came over for a girl’s night and found me crying on my couch. She stayed the night and I ended up confessing nearly everything. I told her about my friends in St. Louis and how they’d hired the bounty hunter to find me. The only things I hadn’t told her were the crimes of my father—I couldn’t speak of those things. Physically, I didn’t think my body would allow it. Every time I thought about him, I had an overwhelming urge to vomit.
And then there was Leo. Sweet, kind Leo.
The night after the bounty hunter kissed me, I called things off with Leo, completely unaware of the heartbreak awaiting me. Nevertheless, he remained a good friend and respected me. I’d told him I needed to focus on myself, and eventually, I opened up to him about being a widow.
Our friendship was something I cherished. When he wasn’t fishing or out with Michael, he was with me. We hiked, we walked, we ate. Hell, we’d even binged watched Game of Thrones together. Never, not once since breaking things off with him, had he tried anything with me.
“Good morning, Cardinal.”
I looked up from the bookstore’s laptop to find Margo setting a lavender latte in front of me, steam rising from my favorite mug. Margo’s black hair was tied in a messy bun on top of her head, her face free of make-up.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling. I hadn’t had a chance to get a coffee yet this morning. “You doing okay?”
She nodded. “Midterms will be the death of me.”
I blinked. “I didn’t know you were in college.”
“I take online classes when I can,” she explained. “Which isn’t often, and that’s why it’s taking me so long to get this damn degree.”
“You’ll have it soon enough, darling,” Rossy cut in as he walked up with a smile.
She nodded to our boss. “You’re fucking right.”
The old man winced. “We could go without the cussing.”
She rolled her eyes as I blurted, “Where are you taking classes?”
“Seattle University. I’m getting a business degree.”
Curiosity got the best of me. “Do they have a lot of programs?”
Before she could answer, the door opened, and more customers flowed in, heading directly to the coffee bar. She gave me an apologetic look and then she was gone. Rossy hummed a tune as he came to stand beside me. “How are you doing, my dear?”
Twisting my neck, I turned to look at him. “I’m wonderful.”
“I’m looking forward to your next round of photos,” he said, gesturing to the wall of framed photos I’d taken over the summer. “We’ll need to get some new ones, you know? To put a spotlight on the season.”
“Really?” I asked, my eyes widening. “You’d let me put more up?”
He gave me a warm smile. “Of course I would. People ask me about those all the time and some want to even buy them.”
I looked back over to the small section of bricked wall that wasn’t covered by bookshelves. Twelve of my photos were hanging there, ones of the famous Goonies beach, the pier, the docs, the sunsets, and even the bookstore. I didn’t think customers paid any mind to them. “Wow,” I whispered, feeling proud.
“This weekend, be sure to take some more,” Rossy whispered back, giving me a wink. Then, he was moving through the stacks, disappearing into his office for the day, which he’d been doing more and more lately. The girls and I had a theory that the old book lover was perhaps writing his own.
Four hours later, when my shift was coming to a close, Sarah finally showed herself for the first time that day—her husband in tow. This was nothing new, Michael came by all the time.
She gave me a warm smile. “Hey, babe.”
Before I could respond, Michael cut in, his face serious. “We need to talk.”
I stiffened, a shiver shooting down my back. “W-what’s wrong?”
His brows pinched as his eyes filled with pity. “Carrie, come with me.”
My eyes shot to Sarah, but all she did was give me a short nod, her warm smile morphing into a tight one.
“Okay,” I whispered, coming around the counter and following Michael to the back of the store, Sarah behind me. She unlocked her office door, and we filed in. I stood close to it as Sarah whispered something to her husband. He gave her a nod and jerked his chin to the door.
Then, she was gone, giving me another warm smile on her way out. Once the door closed behind her, leaving Michael and I alone, I looked over my shoulder and then back to him. “Okay, Michael. What the heck is going on?”
He was leaning against her desk with his ankles crossed and arms folded over his chest. “Carrie, take a seat,” he said gently, nodding to the chair in the corner of her tiny office.
I shook my head, my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands. “No. Tell me what’s going on?”
Was it the house?
Were they going to take it back?
A sharp lump formed in my throat.
Michael studied me for a moment, the silence eating at me. When he spoke, his words rocked me. “Carrie, I know about the bounty hunter. I know he, for some reason, didn’t collect you when he told me he would.”
Holy balls.
I jerked back, my heart seizing. “What does he have to do with any of this?”
“I went to check on your washer this morning like you asked me to,” he explained.
I had. It was making a weird noise, and I needed to know if it needed to be replaced. When I told Sarah about it, she put Michael on the phone last night.
“Look, I’m going to replace it,” I promised him, confused at where he was going with this. “I know that—”
“Carrie,” he cut me off, his voice hard. “Don’t give a fuck about the washer. Trash it and buy a new one. It’s toast. That’s not why I came over here.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Then why—”
“Found a fucking death threat on your door,” he all but growled.
I could feel the color draining from my face.
Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. Shit fucking fuck.
Since moving to Astoria, I’d received four different notes on my door written in red ink.
Now, this would be the fifth.
“There something you wanna tell me?” Michael pressed. “Did that bounty hunter threaten you?”
No. He damn near broke me, though.
“No, the notes have nothing to do with him,” I blurted before comically slapping my hand over my mouth at the sight of Michael’s fury.
“Pardon?” he asked darkly, his nostrils flaring. “Did you just say notes? As in, plural ?”
My hand fell from my lips as I tripped over my words. “Well, I—”
“Carrie, seven months ago, the bounty hunter came to see me,” he cut me off again, rising to his full height. “When I asked him if you were in danger, he told me no.” I swallowed, taking a step back as he pulled a piece of paper from his pants. “Now, I have to know: did he lie to me, or did he not know about them?”
“He didn’t know,” I whispered.
Michael stared. “He didn’t threaten you?”
“No.”
“Does my wife know about this bounty hunter, Carrie?” he pressed.
I nodded as my hands started to shake.
He sighed through his nose and looked at the ceiling. When he looked back to me, he ordered, “You’re going to tell me everything.”
“Michael, it’s not that—”
“Love you, girl. You know that,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “You’ve become like family to Sarah and me. We love you, our kids love you, but so help me God, Carrie, if you’ve had trouble chasing you this entire time and that trouble touches my wife and kids—”
“Stop,” I begged, my hands going to my stomach. “I swear to you, Michael, I didn’t know who they were from, and I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
He glared at me. “You don’t think death threats are a big deal?”
I looked away from him, trying not to think about the woman from a few months ago. I’d seen her around town; she never really went away. In restaurants, standing outside shops, or just walking down the street, every time I noticed her, those dead eyes were staring back at me. It gave me the creeps, but I’d always brushed it off. I figured she was just a local who liked to stare. I’d never seen her before coming to Astoria.
“I thought it was a local or someone trying to scare me off.”
“A local?” he parroted.
I nodded, meeting his eyes. “The old creepy guy down the street.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The guy gave me the fucking creeps, more so than the brunette woman.
The sheriff stared at me like I’d grown an extra head. “Mr. Winters?”
“If Mr. Winters is the old man who walks his stuffed animal up and down the street with a shotgun on his shoulder in nothing but his underwear, then yes.”
Michael said nothing.
I cleared my throat and said, “He scares the shit out of me and Tic-Tac.”
“Who the fuck is Tic-Tac?”
“The orange kitty that lives in the shed out back.” Micheal blinked and I quickly added, “I’ve been feeding him.”
His eyes shot to the ceiling again. “Not even fucking thirty yet, and I’m already too old for this.” Another sigh left Michael before he bent his head, muttering something about investing in a retirement home as he clicked the button on his radio. “Gavin. Do you copy?”
The sound of static filled the room before a man replied, “You got Gavin. Over.”
“Go down to Mr. Winter’s house and take the fucking shotgun from him,” Michael ordered sharply. “And find out where he bought it. That’s the third fucking firearm I’ve had to take from him.”
I pressed my lips together.
“Roger that. Want me to bring him in?” Gavin asked.
Michael’s eyes shot to me. “Yeah. I need to ask him a few questions. Over.”
“Roger that. Over and out.”
Michael looked at me. “I’m going to need the rest of those notes. You still have them?” he asked, his tone softer.
I nodded.
He looked me up and down. “Look, about what I said before—”
“Sarah is lucky woman, and I hope she knows that. Your children are very blessed to have you as a father,” I said softly.
His brows came together. “Carrie, I scared you.”
I let out a quiet laugh. “I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared of losing everything I’ve gained since coming here,” I told him. “Your kids have no idea how lucky they are to have a father who protects them the way you do.”
Michael gave me a pained look. “Carrie…”
“You’re my family, too, ya know?”
Suddenly, I was in his arms, wrapped up in a bear hug.
For once, I didn’t cry.
“You okay?”
I looked up from the stack of books in my arms to find Sarah studying me, a worried expression painted on her face. I nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
After Michael squeezed the life out of me, he told me Sarah wasn’t to know about the notes. This was officially police business, and Sarah had to stay out of it. He left me in her office, heading straight for the station to question Mr. Winters.
I’d lied to him.
Did I think Mr. Winters was trying to scare me? No, but there was something about these notes that seemed off to me.
I knew it wasn’t anyone from my past. It couldn’t be. My father was spending the rest of his life in prison, and Jeremy had taken care of everything else that went along with that shit show. My father’s associates had gone into hiding after everything came to the light, according to Detective Harris…
Shaking those thoughts away, I gave a forced smile to Sarah and turned to put the books away. Once that was done, I headed up to the front to clock out.
“Did Michael say anything…” Sarah trailed off as I turned around to face her.
“He was just checking in on me, that’s all,” I told her.
A shadow of doubt fell over her features. “He confronted you about the bounty hunter, didn’t he?”
I didn’t want to talk about the bounty hunter.
I didn’t want to think about his dark eyes and the heat within them as they lingered on me. I didn’t want to think about his rough voice saying my name or his hands holding me captive against his body. I didn’t even want to think about the pleasure he gave me, about how he knew exactly how to make me see stars. I didn’t want to think about his arms around me or the taste of his lips.
I couldn’t.
I’d spent months crying over him, waiting for him to come back, and he never did. I couldn’t spend another second of my life wondering why I wasn’t good enough for him when I could be good enough for someone else.
I needed to move on.
Swallowing the pain, I looked at her. “He was just checking in on me, Sarah.” I took a step closer to whisper, “Please stop bringing the bounty hunter up. I don’t want to ever think about him again.”
“Carrie—”
“Please.”
She nodded before pulling me into her arms. “I’m sorry.”
I told her it was okay, and truly, it was. I just had to get him out of my head. I needed to move on, and I knew the best way to do that.
It was reckless.
It was stupid.
I just hoped to God I wasn’t too late.
I clocked out, grabbed my coat, and told her I would see her tomorrow. Then, I was gone.
Once I stepped outside into the cold air, instead of going left towards my car, I went right. The snow crunched under my boots, the wind howling and hitting my face. Astoria was about to get hit with another winter storm, and this was just the beginning signs of it. I kept my head down, passing by the shops and restaurants before crossing the road.
In the distance, I heard a car door slam, and I looked over my shoulder—
My heart stopped.
It was the woman.
She was fumbling over her coat, an unlit cigarette hanging from her lips. She was dressed in dark jeans and boots, and the coat she wore looked expensive. This was the first time I’d seen her in decent clothing. She still hadn’t spotted me when she finally righted her coat. In fact, she didn’t even bother looking around as she pulled out her phone and started tapping on the screen.
I watched her for a few more moments, waiting for her to notice me and stare, but she didn’t.
Because you’re overreacting, Carrie. She’s just a local, running errands.
The woman pocketed her phone once more and headed towards the salon a few doors down.
“She’s just a local,” I muttered, almost embarrassed. I’d been worrying about nothing. I turned back and headed where I needed to go.
Five minutes later, I was standing on the docks, bundled up in front of Leo’s boats, watching him work. His back was to me as he bent over, grabbing some netting. When he rose to his full height, he began working the net as he twisted his head to look at me over his shoulder.
“What do you need, Carrie?”
I took a step closer to his boat, watching it gently rock back and forth in the water. “Leo,” I called, shoving my gloved hands into my light-yellow puffer jacket. It was freezing out here—and he was just in a thick sweater and jeans, no gloves.
Where the heck were his gloves?
He turned to me and my breath caught.
For the last few weeks, he’d been out at sea, and I could tell the trip took a toll on him. His sandy hair was in disarray as the freezing cold breeze blew it in different directions, his face was covered in scruff, and those once soft green eyes were now hard—guarded.
“What do you need?” he repeated, his voice hard. Leo’s voice was never hard. Not with me—never with me.
My mouth opened and closed as the wind died down.
His jaw tensed. “Carrie, I’m busy. What do you need? ”
“I just—” I looked away, gathering the right words. I heard him move, and when I looked back, he was on the dock, coming for me.
“It’s too cold out here for you,” he said.
“Leo, I—”
“It was a bad trip, Carrie. I have to get this boat ready to go back out, okay?” he pressed, growing impatient.
I nodded. It was a hard season for him—for all the fishermen on the docks. The whole town was buzzing about it.
Leo gestured to me. “Again, I ask: what do you need?”
“I need you to come to dinner tonight,” I blurted.
“Dinner?”
“At my place.”
He stared at me.
I took this chance to clarify. “I want to make you dinner tonight—at my place.”
I’d never made him a meal and he’d never made me one. If we ate together, it was always take-out from Margie’s.
But tonight was different.
“Carrie,” he sighed, shaking his head.
“Do you—do you not want to have dinner with me?”
“I don’t want to be jacked around,” he answered simply.
Now, it was my turn to blink. “I’m not…What?”
He took a step towards me. “I’m into you. You know that, right?”
I nodded slowly.
“Right. I’m into you, and you were into me. Then, something happened. You ended things with me before they even began, and I don’t blame you for that. You weren’t in the right head space. That became clear the second you told me about your husband,” he said gently.
I looked to my feet.
“Carrie, look at me.”
When I did, his eyes were soft. “I respected your wishes. I stepped back and shoved down those feelings. Over the last few months, we’ve gotten close, and I’ve been happy with whatever you wanted to give me.”
“Leo—”
“You inviting me over for dinner tonight changes things,” he said, stepping closer and putting his hands on my shoulders. He searched my eyes. “Are you in the right head space for that?” I opened my mouth, but he cut me off again. “Don’t wanna be jacked around, Carrie. I’ll wait for you. I think I’ve already proven that, but I don’t think I can handle you ending things again. You get what I’m saying?”
“The last thing I want to do is play with your feelings,” I told him.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
I stepped closer to him, pulling my hands out of my jacket and placing them on his chest. His nostrils flared, but he didn’t step back. “Yes.”
He smiled. “What time do you want me over?”