Chapter 3 #2
I push myself off the couch and hop to my feet. The old wooden floor creaks below me as I head for the stairwell that’s connected to the small store below. My old commute to work took nearly an hour with multiple subway stops. Now, it’s less than two minutes.
The smell of dust and old leather envelopes me when I walk into the space. My grandma was nearly ninety when she passed, but she still kept the place running.
Used furniture, glassware, and other forgotten memories tower around me as I make my way down the small path I’ve managed to clear away. There’s still a lot of work to do before I can officially reopen the Hollow Hinge.
At first, everything was overwhelming. I had to fend off mini panic attacks by reminding myself this is where I’m meant to be. Even after a week of clearing out junk, there was no end in sight. And with each box I unpacked, another memory I’d buried away came rushing back with a vengeance.
But I’ve come to realize this isn’t a burden my grandmother has left me with. It’s a gift. A chance to relive the summer that changed my life. For the better or worse, I haven’t decided yet.
A small black shadow swirls around my legs and reclaims the sunny windowsill at the front of the shop.
One of the first things I did when I moved into this place was make Klepto his very own throne so he could manage the store with an iron fist. I’m still debating whether to get him a cute little tie.
I take a deep breath in before blowing the dust off another unopened box. My goal is to get everything unpacked by the end of the month, and it is the perfect distraction from my lack of transportation, and the man currently elbow deep in my engine—er, my truck’s engine.
That’s one detail I neglected to tell my sister. But I knew if I uttered the name Knox Cooke, she’d hop in her car and speed all the way here from the city.
When I hear the distinct jingle of the old bell keeping watch over the store, the hairs on my arms stand straight up. I thought I locked that door?
I try to poke my head around the tower of boxes, but the pile is too big. With a groan, I rise to my feet and look toward the door, but I come up empty. The small space is seemingly unoccupied and Klepto is undisturbed on his perch. So much for a guard cat.
“Hello?” I call out, not expecting anyone to answer. I really hope I don’t have a ghost. The whole living alone thing is working for me, but if I find out some creep is haunting me, my small-town move will be over before it even begins.
Hearing no answer, I feel my pulse start to slow down. That’s until there’s another creak in the floorboard. “Fuck,” I whisper.
I grab the closest weapon to me, which happens to be a small screwdriver. Not the best option, but it could be worse.
I quietly tiptoe to where my ears pinpointed the noise and try my hardest to keep my breathing under control.
No one knows I’m here, right? I’m sure the town gossip has made its way around, but still. The only human I’ve had a decently long interaction with has been Knox.
Oh shit. Knox.
I swear to God, if that little prick is trying to scare me, I’m going to—
“Ahh!” I yell when a head full of bright red hair pops out of nowhere. I hold out my screwdriver and squeeze my eyes closed.
“Shit. Emery, it’s me!” the stranger yells as I force my eyes open.
“Marie?” I ask, lowering my weapon.
“Yes,” she laughs, her eyes the same bright color of blue they were when we were teenagers, “I’m so sorry. I heard you were in town, and I decided to just pop in. I guess I should’ve called or reached out or—I’m an idiot. I should know better.”
“No,” I say, holding both hands up to stop her from hyperventilating. “You’re fine. But I did think you were a ghost there for a second.”
Her eyes widen and she laughs again. “Could you imagine? It would be so cool if you had a ghost, though. Might drum up some business when you open.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I chuckle, my shoulders relaxing, “I’m sorry, I didn’t reach out when I got settled in. I promise I’m not a total ass; I’ve just been—well, you can see,” I say, gesturing to the mess around us.
“It’s fine,” Marie singsongs, putting her hands behind her back. “I just can’t believe I had to find out you were back from the gossip queens at the coffee shop this morning. They had a lot to say about you and a certain Honey Grove Casanova.”
I groan, falling back on a surprisingly clean chair. “I guess when I told you I was moving back here, I didn’t say when, huh?”
Marie steps deeper into the mess, carefully sidestepping an overflowing box of broken Polaroid cameras. “Nope. You were super mysterious about the timeline. Also, I thought you were bringing someone along.”
“Right,” I say, my jaw tightening. A few months ago, when I found out I inherited a free antique shop and an apartment, I was planning on moving here with Patrick.
At the time, it was perfect. He worked from home, and I needed a change of scenery. It also didn’t hurt that we could barely afford the shoebox we were living in anyway. But then he decided to come clean about the affair. He took a fresh start to a whole new level by blowing up our relationship.
I think part of him thought we could start over somewhere new. But unfortunately for him, I’m not into cheating assholes who think one slip-up is totally fine. Not to mention, his slip-up was way too close to home. What an idiot. Apparently, I had a type.
“We broke up,” is all I can manage to say, “and I had to delay the move a few more months, but I’m finally here.”
Her eyes narrow like she’s trying to assess whether to push for more details. Thankfully, Marie has always been good at judging my many moods and steers clear of the subject.
“Sounds like you got rid of some dead weight then,” she smiles and tilts her head in a knowing way, “and that explains why you were canoodling with Knox Cooke the other night.”
I wince. Canoodling? That sounds way worse than hooking up.
“I’m sorry to disappoint, but we weren’t doing anything. My truck broke down, and he gave me a ride back into town.”
Marie tips her chin toward me with an accusatory stare. She had front row seats to the first time he catapulted into my orbit, but I left town before she could get the full extent of my heartbreak.
“I’m telling the truth,” I defend with both hands braced in front of me. “I am not interested in starting things up again.”
“That’s probably for the best,” she says, a single finger skating across dusty cardboard boxes. “He hasn’t changed much since high school.”
“Oh, really?” I reply, trying to hold back the eager tone in my voice. I could hate a person, but still want to know every depraved detail about them.
“Yep,” Marie says with a glint in her eye. “He’s quite the man about town.”
“I think you’ve been spending too much time with the old ladies in the coffee shop.”
“Shit,” she says, pressing a palm to her forehead. “You’re totally right.”
“I think the phrase you’re looking for is man whore,” I correct her.
“Right.” Marie laughs, the small dimples on her cheeks poking out. “See! This is why it’s so great you’re living here now. I finally have someone who can keep me in check and stop me from doing weird shit like joining a knitting club.”
That actually sounds kind of fun, but I don’t say it out loud. “So, Knox is bouncing from girl to girl, huh?” I ask, regrettably pulling the subject back to him.
“Mhmm,” she hums, crossing her arms. “The latest scandal that his name was involved in had to do with a married woman who just so happened to be our old Calculus teacher. Apparently, she left her husband for him, and he basically told her to get lost. Two weeks later, she packed up her stuff, quit her job, and moved back home. That had the town talking for a while.”
I blink hard, not expecting that.
I know Knox Cooke is a heartbreaker. I’ve experienced it firsthand. But to hear a story that blows mine out of the water sends a shiver of validation down my spine that I didn’t want nor ask for.
“You’re kidding,” is all I can say.
“I can’t make this shit up.”
“Was it recent?” I ask. More questions pop up in my head, but I restrain myself.
“It was a little over a year ago. But now that I think of it, I haven’t heard much about him until you came into town. Maybe he’s been lying low, or he’s getting better at keeping his exploits private.”
I groan and press my palms into my eyes. “I’m sure. I can’t believe girls are still falling for the whole tortured cowboy routine.”
“Of course,” Marie says with a tight grin. “You know how this town works. Put a flannel on someone halfway decent with cheekbones, and they’re on their way to being crowned prom king or whatever the equivalent to that is for adults.”
I roll my eyes and bend over to grab onto one of the many boxes that’s been staring me down during my conversation with Marie. I really needed to get this place unpacked.
“Good to know nothing’s changed. It’s like walking into my very own time capsule.”
“That’s not entirely true. Some things have changed,” she says, stepping closer.
“What?” I ask, glancing up at her.
“You’re back, and Honey Grove just got a lot more interesting.”
“Sure,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. I reach out to open the flaps of the box I’m working on when my phone starts to buzz in my pocket.
I swear, if it’s Eve trying to convince me this move is a bad idea again, I’m going to block her number…for at least a day or until I’m done being annoyed.
But it’s not Eve.
“What’s the area code for Honey Grove?” I ask, my mind drawing a blank.
“716. Why?” she asks with a curious frown.
“Just making sure before I answer this call,” I reply before hitting accept.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hey, Bambi. It’s Knox. Knox Cooke.”