31. Sawyer
Sawyer
I watch Annabelle leave for the bathroom, hoping I didn’t say too much, but the thoughts spilled out of me before I could stop them.
It’s the truth; I can see myself with her.
We’ve known each other for such a short amount of time, yet I feel like every time I see her, I’m home.
I can’t explain it, not really. I take a sip of my whiskey, wondering if Tanner’s been spiking my drinks with something.
Maybe he has used one of Daisy’s tonics.
But even with how happy I am to have made things official with Annabelle, my mind also buzzes with anger.
Anger at her shit late husband, a man who I’m piecing together was an abuser, both physically and emotionally.
A man who kept her small when she’s so full of life.
Keeping her stuck at home, when she should be wild and free.
Keeping her thinking she was nothing when she’s the most beautiful and awe-inspiring woman I’ve ever met.
“How's the date going?” Tanner slips into the booth opposite me.
“Tell me about Steve,” I demand, and he takes a breath.
“A real piece of work. Bounced around from job to job, couldn’t really hold anything down.
Turned to drinking, got mixed up in a bad crowd, thought the world owed him something.
You know, a real class act.” Tanner takes a sip of his whiskey.
All this sounds similar to what Bob had to say, but I want to know more.
“I'm pretty sure he was violent at home,” I tell him, thinking again about how Annabelle flinched the first time I met her.
“Yeah, well, no one really knew for sure, but the town talked. He kept her pretty hidden up at the farm, and whenever she was in town, the ladies would all talk to her and ask her questions, but never really found out much about anything from her.”
My frown deepens.
“So what? This town you love so much, this town you tell me helps each other, looks out for each other, just left her up on that farm with an asshole husband who used her as he wanted?” My anger is high, my body almost vibrating. If that asshole wasn’t already dead, I would kill him myself.
“It was a few years ago, and there’s only so much people can do in a situation like that. The sheriff went up for a visit almost every week, using one excuse or another, but Annabelle never said anything, and we could never find any proof.”
The legal part of my brain knows he’s right. Knows that you need evidence, a victim statement, that you can’t just go to someone's house and throw around accusations and arrest them with nothing.
If the sheriff used to go up and check on her regularly but never did anything, it doesn’t surprise me that she now doesn’t tell anyone anything. She probably thinks no one would believe her anyway.
That prompts me to share. “Something else is going on up at the farm.”
“What do you mean?” Tanner's eyes narrow.
“Not sure exactly, but something isn’t right. The night she hurt her head, we all felt it. Tell me I’m wrong?”
He shakes his head. “I got a feeling, but I couldn't really understand it, though.”
“This week, the field where her lavender grows was ruined. Bob and I saw the fence, and it was cut with bolt cutters. The other week, she had a flat tire, but she was a bit skittish about it. She makes excuses, but I know she isn’t telling me something.”
“She needs to know she can trust you. She may have feelings for you, may like having you around, but I think trust with a woman like Annabelle is probably the hardest thing to get from her, and until you have it, you’ll be kept out of the loop.”
He’s right, and my shoulders are tight, knowing I haven’t yet earned it from her.
Flying into town on my private jet, throwing around my money, giving the boys and her gifts that have no real value to her life is probably having the opposite effect.
My brother’s photo, the help on the business, and hopefully getting Gertie’s into Van Cleef Properties will all help financially, but I need to do something so she knows I’m a man who will protect her, with more than just my bank balance and connections.
She needs a steady shoulder, and all this flying in and out is probably just reinforcing to her that I’m not dependable.
Highlighting that I’m not someone she can rely on.
“Uhhh… guys, we have a problem,” Victoria says, coming to our booth, pointing behind me. I turn around, seeing Annabelle’s back plastered to the wall, looking equal parts as scared as a deer in headlights and ready to gut the large man who’s towering over her.
“Oh… Fuck no.” I’m out of the booth quickly and striding over, not needing to look to know Tanner is right behind me. As I step up to them, the man raises his hand in a move to hit her, and I see red.
“You lay one finger on her, and I’ll end you.” I grab his wrist midair, my grip strength feeling like I’ll break it. He looks at me, startled, seemingly surprised that anyone would come to Annabelle’s defense.
“Fuck off, you city suit.” The guy who looks like he has had way too many whiskeys turns to throw a punch at me, but he’s slow and uncoordinated. My fist is in his face in an instant, and he flies back, hitting the ground hard.
The bar goes quiet, and Annabelle gasps.
With the music stopped, everyone’s looking, but I step forward in front of Annabelle, protecting her like a shield, putting myself between her and the danger she faces.
Even though my hand stings like a motherfucker, I want to hit him again.
I want to make this man bleed for even thinking he could get up in her face like he did.
I take a deep breath, trying to settle my adrenaline.
I haven’t hit anyone in a long, long time.
As a kid, I was always roughhousing. My brother and I got teased for wearing old clothes, not having a dad, and all sorts of other things when we were younger, so as the older brother, my fist connected with faces more times than not.
That all stopped once I went to college and put my head down, knowing the only way out for me and my family was a law degree.
But those same feelings build in me again, the protective ones, the fierce determination to fight for what’s mine.
“I think you need to leave.” I stand tall and proud.
One by one, the men in the bar join me, standing by my side, and I feel their support.
Even Griffin, who’s only in town for the night.
Tanner’s builder often flies in and is currently here working on the Whiteman’s Whiskey Accommodation build.
Like me, he’s always in town, not yet a local.
If this wasn’t so serious, I would smile. This is what Tanner was talking about, how the town comes together. As the guy slowly gets up from the floor, a few of his buddies scramble to help him, aware they are completely outnumbered.
“Fine. Whiskey here’s shit anyway.” He spits on the floor in front of me, just missing my new shoes, and I grind my teeth.
“I’ll walk you out,” Tanner says as he and Connor and Griffin follow behind the small group, ensuring they leave, and I turn to look at Annabelle behind me.
The crowd starts to disperse, and the music comes back on.
I nod to both Bob and the others, a silent gesture of appreciation for them having our back.
“I’ll get you some water,” Daisy says to Annabelle before running off to the bar.
“Let me get some ice for lover boy’s hand here,” Victoria says as she follows Daisy, and I notice Annabelle’s hands shaking.
“Come, let’s sit back down for a bit, then we’ll go home.” I take her shaking hand in mine and hold her tight.
“You cut your hand.” She lifts my hand to her face, inspecting the damage, and I wince a little.
“He had a hard head.” I sit her down at a nearby table, Daisy delivering water and Victoria passing me some ice before they both join Connor over at the bar.
When she doesn’t say anything, just looks at me quietly, tears shining in her eyes, any remaining adrenaline turns to a sick feeling in my stomach, not knowing how she feels about seeing me hit someone, after who knows what she’s been through.
“Annabelle, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hit him. I don’t condone violence, and I would never typically do something like that, and I—” My words tumble out, but she cuts me off, pressing a soft finger to my lips.
“Sawyer. Stop. I’m fine. It’s okay. I trust you. You were protecting me. I know that.” I still feel like shit, although a little less so. I take a breath, and she does the same, then I press a kiss to that finger before she moves her hand to rest on my thigh.
I smile sadly. “I’m sorry our date is ruined.”
“Well, that just means you need to take me on another one.”
My eyes search her face, and she gives me a soft smile.
“Already planning it.”
“Here, let me.” Annabelle takes the ice and grabs my hand, resting it on the table between us. “Are you alright?” I ask her.
Her eyebrows pinch. “I should be asking you that question; you're the one with the injury.”
“Annabelle.”
She looks at my hand and the ice, pretending to be busy.
“Annabelle, please look at me,” I nearly beg, hating how I can tell something is still gnawing at her emotions.
When her eyes flick up and meet mine, my chest almost splits wide open, seeing her eyes full of fear, defiance, those tears back and hanging on to her lashes.
“Are you alright?” Lifting my good hand, I cup her cheek, and she takes another deep breath. She leans back in her chair and grabs the glass of water, the glass shaking in her hands while she drinks. I watch her, remaining silent, waiting for her answer.
Placing the glass back down, she says, “That was Stanley. He’s my former father-in-law.”
My jaw clenches.
“I guess you could say he taught his son everything he knows.”
If I wasn’t sure about her past relationship, I am now.
I huff a breath, my blood heating all over again. “He’s a real piece of work.”
“I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
“Has he ever hurt you in the past?” My heart pounds harder as I wait for the answer.
Her eyes look into mine, and she pauses, swallowing audibly. “No.”
“Do the kids see them? Their father’s side of the family?” I hope to hell they don’t.
“Never,” she says fiercely. I know this mama bear would protect her cubs with everything she has.
Tanner approaches where we’re sitting, putting our conversation on pause. “They’ve gone. I’ll speak to the sheriff and get this on the record.”
“No.” Annabelle’s response is panicked, and I look at her with concern.
“It’s important to have these things reported.
He won’t necessarily be charged; hell, he may even charge me for punching him, but unless this is on the record, then it never happened.
It’s important to have everything noted, so that if it happens again, you have a record of behavior that you can use if needed in the future. ”
“The sheriff may go and talk with him, but he won't be back here. He isn’t welcome in any of my establishments anymore,” Tanner says, looking at Annabelle.
“I don’t want to cause trouble.” Her eyes look so dejected, like this is somehow her fault.
I wish I could go back in time and erase whatever happened in her past. But I can’t.
“He caused trouble the minute he stepped into your space. You did nothing wrong. None of this is on you at all. You were just here having a meal with your very handsome boyfriend.” I get the small smile I was hoping for. “Let’s go home, see what trouble Sutton got into while we were away.”
As I stand, she joins me. I shake Tanner’s hand and say goodbye to the others and Victoria, Daisy, and a few other local women all come to hug Annabelle.
She smiles softly, opening up to them a little, and I know although it was a horrible first date, it might just be the one that has her accepting this small town as her own.
And maybe accepting me as the man who can stand by her side.