Chapter Two
“Fuck,” hissed Reese Lloyd as she hit her foot, not for the first time, on a pile of junk on the floor. She was more pissed off that it happened again than from the pain.
She wasn’t even sure what it was that she had hit. The whole damned house was nothing but a trap. A large, haunting death trap that she was sure her dead mother had set up just to make her life even more difficult.
It would be just like her to make life hard even after she died.
Joyce Walton was three months dead but ever-present in Reese’s life. She could just hear her voice hollering into the room.
“Damn it, Joyce. You couldn’t have hoarded pillows?”
Huffing and certainly not waiting for a reply, Reese rubbed her knee to soothe away the pain before picking her bag and purse back up from where they had landed on the floor when she had accidentally slammed her knee. She was on a tight schedule. No time to argue with the dead.
Not for the first time that week did she wonder why she was there. Why had she decided to move? Why did she think this was a good idea? Why didn’t she just take Haley up on living in her basement temporarily?
Pride, mostly. And pure spite.
One week ago, she arrived at 521 Gimlet Avenue with all her belongings packed into her car and a front seat full of Walmart bags of cleaning supplies, a little food, and toilet paper because she didn’t trust anything in that house to touch her most private of parts.
One week, and all she had managed to do was rake out a small path up the stairs to her old bedroom and then to the bathroom.
A bathroom, she quickly realized, was not going to work for her.
The toilet worked once she could get to it and the sink, after taking forty-five minutes to clean it and the counter off, but the shower didn’t work at all. Not a drop.
Her mother’s hoarding had hit its highest peak while she was gone.
Reese had left Roark, Tennessee, fifteen years ago and hadn’t been back.
During that time, Joyce had managed to completely ruin the house.
The only reason Reese had returned was because the estate needed closing, and she had finally accepted there was nothing left for her in Lexington, Kentucky.
She had lived and worked there the whole time she’d been gone, trying to make a life for herself.
A few relationships had come and gone, but none of them lasted.
Reese never seemed able to open up enough to let anyone fully in, and eventually they all fizzled out.
In the end, the only real connection she had left there was Haley.
Then came the call that Joyce had died, and the life Reese had built no longer felt like it was enough to stay for.
So there she was, with a backpack full of toiletries and her pride hanging by a thread, as she tossed her stuff into the passenger seat of her SUV to drive fifteen minutes across town just to take a shower.
Not for the first time did she silently thank whoever was in charge for her best friend of twenty-five years, Haley.
The trip across town was fairly quick for a busy Monday morning.
Lots of things had changed about Roark but also hadn’t really.
It was odd. It felt the same, but it also now had a twenty-four-hour Walmart and a coffee shed.
Yes, a coffee shed. It was a Home Depot shed converted into a coffee business with drive-through windows on both sides. And the coffee was surprisingly good.
She arrived at Haley’s at half past seven with coffee, a banana nut muffin, and a backpack in hand.
The whitewashed brick two-story house with caramel-brown wood posts and shutters wasn’t Reese’s taste, but she had no room to judge.
She had a two-story bungalow filled with at least forty years of junk and garbage and not a working shower.
She knocked twice on the side door before letting herself in and slipped her feet out of her shoes. A strict rule in the Palmer household. It was shockingly quiet when she moved further in, except for a gentle tune playing from speakers she couldn’t find.
The smell of chocolate chip pancakes hit her almost immediately.
“Yum,” she declared as she came around to the kitchen.
Haley, dressed in gray sweats and her long auburn hair up in a chaotic mess of a bun, turned to her, a smudge of flour on her smiling face. “Hello, sunshine.”
“Good morning. You’re awfully domestic today.”
“Gage isn’t feeling well, so I let him stay home. He requested chocolate chip pancakes.”
“Not feeling well, how, exactly?” Reese asked, the mention of a sick child alarming her. The last thing she wanted was to catch something. There was no time for that.
“I think it’s his allergies. His head is so stuffed up. Poor guy sounds awful.”
“Allergies?”
Haley rolled her eyes. “It’s not contagious. You’ll be fine.”
“You know me too well,” Reese smirked. “Mind if I go have a shower?”
“Of course not. Pardon the mess in my bedroom. What time is your interview?”
“9:00. It’s not an interview so much as a confirmation. I was offered the position, but I want to see the place first.”
“You don’t have a lot of options if you want to stay in the rehab field, though, right?”
Reese shrugged. “I’d have to commute farther. Turtle Grove is only about a twenty-minute drive, but it’s also a non-profit. I’m used to a private facility, so it may be a bit different.”
“Hopefully you’ll love it.”
“Hopefully. I’m going to go shower.”
Haley’s home was beautiful but too modern and bright for Reese’s personal taste.
There was something so impersonal about a white-gray color theme with touches of yellow oak that just didn’t feel warm to Reese.
She wanted to remodel the bungalow, give it the facelift it deserved, but she pushed that thought out of her head.
It would be a long time before she could get that far. It would just make her frustrated.
One thing she loved about being in Haley’s home was the lack of mounds of clutter.
Being able to freely move down the long hall to the master suite was a luxury she wished for.
Just the feel of the plush carpeting under her feet as she entered the bedroom was like walking into a spa.
It wasn’t anything fancy. It was a normal bedroom, but she missed being able to walk barefoot in her living space.
Fully intending to enjoy the shower while she was in it, she quickly turned the showerhead on, its spray bursting to life.
Having to go across town to shower was going to start becoming a hassle. Sponging off in the upstairs bathroom would only get her so far. Having it repaired was not an option until she was able to get the hoard in better shape. No way could she let someone in there in its current state.
Peeling off her T-shirt and loose sweatpants, she moved quickly to grab the bottles she needed from her bag and was under the spray of water in no time.
Steam began rising, but the water wasn’t hot enough. She needed it hotter, and with a little adjustment, water just a hair from boiling was softly beating the knots out of her shoulders. She knew they would be back after the meeting at Turtle Grove, but for the moment, she would enjoy the release.
***
The noise hit her first, then the sheer number of men streaming in and out of rooms. The building was in a T shape. The top part of the T was where the front desk, the administrative office, and what looked like possibly dorm rooms were located.
Behind a high desk was the first sign of cheer. She was greeted by a man with a wide smile, holding a breakfast sandwich, who had a smear of mustard on his T-shirt. “Hello, how can I help you?”
“I have a meeting at nine with Mr. Elrod.”
“We just call him Tyler around here,” he chuckled. “I’ll let him know you’re here. Have a seat.”
The seats in question were a faux-leather couch that was missing more leather than it had on it and some plastic chairs.
She chose the plastic chairs. This place was obviously not as nice as Woodwind Hills, her previous place of employment.
It was one of the top rehabs in the state and was completely privately paid for.
Turtle Grove was a nonprofit. State grants funded the vast majority of their operation.
The differences between the two rehabs could not have been more glaring, and she wasn’t even six feet into the building yet.
The burn of eyes landing on her wasn’t a new feeling to her.
It was normal. Clients were curious to see who the new face was.
She ignored the feeling. Instead, she drummed her fingers on her purse and scuffed at a dirt smear on the dated tan tiles with her shoe.
She didn’t have to wait long, thankfully.
A ball of anxiety burst in her stomach as her name was called out.
A man in khakis and a red polo walked out of an adjoining door. A wide smile was on his face, but all Reese noticed was that the fluorescent lights above glared off his surprisingly shiny bald head.
She tore her eyes away to stand and shake his outstretched hand. It was clammy. Or maybe it was hers. It was hard to tell as her nerves seemed to be revving up.
“Ms. Lloyd, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Please, call me Reese,” she said with a professional smile that easily slipped onto her face when it was about business. No one looking would see the anxiety humming through her. “Tyler Elrod, correct?”
“Yes, but call me Tyler. Let’s go to my office.”
It was an odd setup. They walked through what appeared to be a small conference room, then another room with a vacant seat behind a desk that suggested a secretary, and then into his office.
He motioned for her to take a seat in front of a desk cluttered with paperwork, coffee mugs, and a half-eaten burrito on a blue file folder. Her hope of liking the place was quickly diminishing.