24. Jimmy
Jimmy
S utton texted to check on me. Again.
Tossing my cell onto the mattress beside me, I stared up at my rented room’s ceiling, thankful as fuck the Coles had soundproofed the walls at The Moose’s Muse. Silence surrounded me, same as it had Thursday when I’d returned from Dig-In and lost my shit.
I had cried myself dry, my nose a runny mess, my screams muffled by the pillow beneath my head. My reaction to Kurt at the diner had embarrassed the fuck out of me. Revealed to every single person in Pippen Creek’s diner how broken I was inside.
I couldn’t imagine the gossip about my weakness spreading up and down Main Street.
Poor little boy didn’t know how to deal with his emotions. Couldn’t stand up for himself in the face of a bully’s verbal attack. Froze in the face of danger. Took off without thanking their beloved chief for stepping in to save the day.
Couldn’t even find the gumption to look out for DJ when his dad had gotten handsy and hurt the boy either.
Worthless coward.
My face burned and throat tightened over what Sutton must think of me. I’d proven how much of a child I still was, and I hated myself for it.
Since returning, I had been triggered a handful of times, which had nearly flattened me, reminding me that I wasn’t any more cured of my childhood trauma than I’d thought while living in Boston.
Being away from where I’d endured unimaginable pain had made it easy to distract myself, set my emotions to the side where they wouldn’t be bothersome. With every passing year, I’d thought I was healing—days passing, distance, and all that shit.
But nope.
I continued to be controlled by fear responses deeply ingrained in my psyche.
Coming back here had been a mistake. A whim that had landed me in a pile of shit I’d been desperate to leave behind, revealing my deepest insecurities to people—someone in particular—I’d hoped to prove my worth to.
The open house later this morning had better end with a bid so I could get the hell out of this town and focus on finding a sense of peace I’d experienced in Massachusetts. But, I expected my reawakened nightmares would follow me no matter how much distance I put between myself and the past.
Maybe I would move to Washington, the farthest west I could go.
Spend a few months abroad, even. Tour Europe and immerse myself in history of those who had suffered before me.
Would running away again be the answer I searched for though?
I could hear Dad in my mind calling me a fool, and growling, I tossed the blankets off and climbed from the bed.
A hot shower and little bit of pampering were in order since I had about two hours before the open house began.
While I hadn’t been invited to hang around and witness the hordes of people checking out the house—dreaming about the numbers—I was going to park a bit down the road and watch, fingers crossed.
I’d originally planned to hang with DJ at Grams, but after Kurt’s homophobic slurs, I agreed with Gram’s suggestion I stay away for a bit. We’d spoken on the phone Friday night, and I’d bawled my eyes out, her attempts to soothe me appreciated but ineffective.
She’d had it out with her son earlier in the day while DJ had been at school, and she threatened to cut him off and out of her life completely if he didn’t agree to get some help.
He’d supposedly started AA meetings after the DUI and some other program that would allow him to get his license back sooner, but she’d told him he needed therapy too.
Didn’t we all?
But no way in hell would I subject myself to reliving what I’d been desperate to escape for more than half my life. I wondered if Kurt was in the same headspace as me, which allowed a bit of empathy for the man.
Didn’t make the thought of running into him again any more tolerable, that was for damned sure.
My cell dinged as I descended the stairs to the lounge.
Daddy McDreamy: Good luck today.
I huffed under my breath, grumbling. Why couldn’t Sutton leave me the hell alone?
Because he cared, just like he did every other goddamned person in Pippen Creek. It would be best to remember I wasn’t special.
“Good morning, Jimmy!” Kendra called from the front desk as I hit the landing.
“Morning.” I cast her a quick smile even though I didn’t feel an ounce of joy over the new day. My face probably revealed that truth, but I couldn’t rouse a single fuck to give of my mask slipping.
“There’s a fresh pot of coffee and some goodies from Scone Haven this morning. I didn’t have time to bake muffins.”
Kendra made the best banana chocolate chip muffins ever , and some mornings, I’d been seen smuggling an extra to my room to save for a nighttime snack.
I sweetened my coffee and nearly swooned at the sight of Kel’s orange cranberry scones. Two found themselves wrapped up in a napkin and tucked into my hand as I approached the front desk.
“Open house is today,” I told Kendra, cradling my to-go cup in my other hand.
“While I hope you get an offer, I’ll be sad to see you leave us,” she said, her tone definitely downcast. At least no pity shone in her eyes. “It’s been a pleasure chatting with you every morning.”
Guess she hadn’t yet heard about the showdown at Dig-In the other day. Thankfully, she’d been back in the kitchen when I’d stumbled in with tears coursing down my cheeks and hurried up to my room on Thursday.
“I’m not sure when I’m heading out of town, but I’ll let you know when I do.” I doubted I would stick around until the closing. That could take a month or two depending on a bunch of variables. I wouldn’t subject myself to more of this misery while waiting to scribble my name on a bunch of papers.
“The room is yours for as long as you need it,” Kendra assured me.
A few hours later, I sat in my idling car at the end of Dad’s street.
While a handful of people had done a walk-through of the house, my phone sat silent in my clammy grip.
No bids yet. It was too early for me to fall into despair, but I couldn’t help how my chest attempted to cave in on itself.
Fatigue settled in my limbs, exhaustion in my bones, causing my eyes to sting.
Would I ever be free of this damned town and its bad memories?
Was peace even possible?
My cell rang, jolting my heart into my throat, and I swallowed hard, fumbling with my phone. I recognized my realtor’s number, but that didn’t lessen the rush of adrenaline or the thrum of my pulse.
“Hello?” I squeaked.
“Great news, Jimmy!” The guy’s chipper tone said it all.
Shoulders relaxing, I closed my eyes.
Two bids.
Two fucking bids.
Shaky laughter left me as I hit end to hang up a few minutes later, giddiness causing my hands to tremble.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” I declared to my car’s interior before turning in the nearest driveway and heading downtown.
Frenchie’s had just opened, so I pulled in and parked, my steps lighter than they had been in days.
Not even the thought of gossip over what a coward I was would keep me away from a celebratory glass or two of wine.
I would leave my car and walk back to The Moose if I got too buzzed.
It was time to let loose and celebrate the first bit of good news I’d so desperately needed.
“Welcome to Frenchie’s!” Iris called out with a wide grin when I stepped inside.
Only a handful of people sat at the bar, and the sight of Babs, Chief’s secretary, at a far table stalled out my lungs for a few seconds. She was the gossip queen, and while I usually would have loved to sit and hear all the dirt about shared acquaintances, wariness crept through me.
She smiled, friendly as could be, waving me over to sit with her and Coach Bernard, her husband.
Whatever actions I took would be repeated to Sutton, and while he’d hurt me, I still found myself wanting to please him. Be a good boy.
Ignoring her would probably be frowned upon.
There was no way in hell she hadn’t heard about the Dig-In incident, and I slid onto the seat beside her, trying to brace myself for the inevitable grilling for information, the delving into my emotions over the matter.
“Afternoon, kiddo,” Babs said, rubbing my back with a soothing motion, her gaze filled with warmth and concern.
My smile wobbled at best, but at least I was able to relax into the chair.
“What can I get you?” Iris asked, her eyes as sparkly and bright as ever as she approached the table.
“A glass of pinot noir, please.”
“Anything to eat?”
“Nothing for now, thanks.” I wanted the wine to hit my empty stomach and give me a decent buzz before I fed my body the fuel I needed.
“I heard from a little birdie that you did a great job fixing up the house,” Babs said once Iris walked off to retrieve my drink.
A slow exhale of relief over her chosen topic allowed my shoulders to unhitch even further. “It looks a lot better than it did when I left town, that’s for damned sure. Just found out two offers came in during the open house this morning.”
“Congratulations, and I’m not surprised. Property out here has been going for a mint,” she said, stirring the thin straw in what appeared to be a Cape Cod.
“Interest rates are low—it’s a seller’s market,” Coach Bernard said, lifting his beer as though toasting what was a sure thing. “You’ll get top dollar.”
I couldn’t care less about the money, since I had more than enough already in my bank account to see me through the next ten years if I chose a frugal lifestyle.
Which, considering my childhood, I knew how to do like a pro.
My days of acting like a hole for hire were over, which meant no more gifts to myself like my BMW.
But I was okay with that, was all done with cold transactions that didn’t fulfill what felt like a massive crater inside my soul.
I’d hoped for Sutton to offer the connection I craved, to help heal the hurt I’d been lugging around with me from childhood, but I was too much—or not enough, more like it.
Nothing but a worm.
Setting aside depressing thoughts was easier than usual thanks to joining the town gossip for a drink.
While I sipped my wine, Babs caught me up on the Pippen Creek going-ons then we returned to property values, how Pippen Creek Pond lots had been a hot item the previous two to three years.
Out-of-owners had been flocking in, trying to escape the bustle of the city to live a simpler lifestyle.
The Coles had been one such family, bringing along their adult son, Christian, who’d been hired at the fire station.
Mention of him opened another can of stories about Dexter, Sutton’s best friend, and how whenever he shared a room with Cole, sparks flew. A hint of violence simmered between them, Babs swore with a twinkle in her eyes, but a whole lot of lust too.
She looked forward to the day those two firemen got their hands on each other and extinguished the sparks between them. I hoped they burned themselves to the ground then found a way to rebuild in order to do it all over again.
Melancholy crept back in as Iris handed me a third glass of wine.
We’d been sitting at the table for a few hours, during which time I’d had a plateful of wings and a basket of fries. Not exactly a good pairing for my favorite wine, but the food hit the spot and silenced my growling stomach.
A dozen or so people had also flocked in since I’d arrived, another group packing in for after-dinner drinks. I’d become downright comfortable while sitting with Babs, chatting on occasion with others as they paused to say hello.
“So what are your plans after you sell?” Babs asked.
“Welcome to Frenchie’s!” Iris hollered yet again as the door behind me opened, letting in a blast of air smelling of fallen leaves and woodsmoke.
In my mind, my future remained as dark as the inch of wine left in my glass. “There’s nothing left for me here, so…” I shrugged.
She glanced over my shoulder. “You sure about that?”
Babs’s tone hinted at devilry, but I didn’t look over to see who had walked into the bar behind me. I could feel his presence as though Sutton had laid a hand on me. An immediate craving tore through my body, causing the hairs on my arms to raise and my pulse to kick into high gear.
I didn’t want the reminder of him turning away from me the other morning but couldn’t help myself. Longing for him, the merest hint of his attention, shifted me in my seat.
My gaze clashed with Dex’s dark eyes rather than the concerned hazel ones that scanned the bar’s far side. Dex stood between me and his best friend, and with a grin, he slung his arm over Sutton’s shoulders.
A burning sensation in my chest caused my face to heat, and I muttered a few curses under my breath, eyes narrowing at the asshole teasing me.
“That’s what I thought.”
I tore my focus off the two men heading to the bar to find Babs smirking at me with a knowing grin.
“What.” I muttered, not exactly asking a question while slumping in my chair and grabbing up my glass to suck down the last of my wine.
“He’s running scared, Jimmy.” Babs leaned into my space, her tone low and eyes intent. “Don’t stop your pursuit—he needs you as much as you’ve always needed him.”
Shit.
If anyone had insider info into what was going through the Chief’s head, it was the woman he spent almost every single day with over at the station.
“Grab hold of that pissiness you better believe Dex caused on purpose, and go claim your man, Jimmy Riley.”
Liquid courage…a blessing or a curse, time would tell.
I pushed up onto shaky legs, and Babs nodded with encouragement.
If Sutton turned down my last attempt at trying to talk him into me, I would be leaving Pippen Creek in my rearview soon anyway.
The truth did little to comfort my lack of high hopes, but I was stubborn if nothing else. I would hold my chin up and walk away with tears streaming down my face and a barely beating heart inside my chest.
My lips never having tasted the one man who’d made me feel any semblance of peace.