Picture This

Chapter One

Emberli

It’s a good thing my mom raised me to be persistent.

My attempts at trying to stay somewhat calm and positive on the five hour journey to Shadow Peaks, on a scorching and aged coach, fail the minute I discover the aircon on here is also bust. After leaving me stranded without my car and two hundred dollars in a bug infested cheap-ass motel, my now ex boyfriend had forgotten to turn his location off, which means one thing and one thing only... I was going to track him down and make him swallow the toilet paper that he’d scribbled a pathetic leaving message on, because my mother didn’t raise a quitter.

I think of how disappointed she’ll be to hear of what Elijah had done and as much as I’d try to shield the truth from her, it would eventually come undone. There was something about admitting I needed help that I just couldn’t do, hence why I wasn’t returning to my family home in Haven Vale. I needed to do this for myself.

I’d often not tell my parents what Elijah was like, and I would even try to trick myself into believing the lies I told in the process. I thought that if I only told them the rare good parts that happened with Elijah and me, they’d like him. Manipulation was a fine tactic when used on yourself. I also didn’t want my parents to worry about me, and to be honest, I didn’t want me to have to worry about me either. I was the eldest, and at twenty-three, should’ve somewhat had my life together. Yet self-discovery screams at me as I continue my journey down south, and I realize that I should have given up on Elijah a long time ago. I selfishly relied on him a lot more than I should have. It’s my biggest regret now and as pathetic as the note he left is, I can’t get over the ache it injects me with as I read it over once again.

Emberli,

I’m leaving you.

Don’t take it personally babe. A pregnant woman just isn’t who we want for the face of our band. If it’s not clear enough, our relationship is over and I'm taking the car and some fuel money because of equal division.

Love Lij x

I didn't know if I should be more angry at him for scampering off with my car, or myself for trusting him. I guess this is what I get when I’m with someone who thought that equal division was relevant to our situation, someone who clearly didn’t research what equal division meant. Elijah had another think coming if he assumed I’d let this go as the mother of his child. It appeared he lacked the capacity of holding responsibility for his own actions at twenty-five years old, so it was up to me to find him, contemplate murder and then remind him about the five month old baby I have growing inside of me.

Equal divide that, asshole.

I felt humiliated, knowing that the band I’d given my time and effort to, could take off and leave me as fast as they did. And Elijah. It was that easy for him to kick me out of his life. It was almost like I was never there in the first place, and that terrified me. I gave him every piece of me and it still wasn't enough.

I’ve always been a but why girl, which is why I try to make excuses and find explanations. I need to know why something happened the way it did and I can’t get over it until I have a satisfactory amount of evidence to know that it wasn’t my fault. But again, I’m stuck in the whirlwind of not being able to understand how I’m so easy to leave when all I did was love Elijah unconditionally. He wanted more, and so I tore myself apart trying to find it, I even remodelled myself just how he wanted and it was barely adequate.

“How far along are you?” I turn my head to the older lady sitting in the seat on the other side of the bus. She leans over her husband who mutters her name with a subtle but firm message. “Sorry, it’s just - I love seeing young moms!” Alice laughs and her husband looks at me as he mouths me an apology.

“Five months.” It’s the first time I’ve managed to open my mouth this entire coach ride without shoving my fist in my mouth in a feeble attempt to hold down the morning sickness, or the travel sickness, or the questionable and lukewarm breakfast burrito I had managed to get before boarding.

Note to self, don’t trust vending machines.

Note to self 2.0, don’t trust men who point you in the direction of vending machines.

Note to self 3.0, don’t trust men.

“Five months! How magical! Do you know the gender yet?” The woman beams with excitement and I wish I could give the same back to her.

I glance down at my bump before shaking my head. Elijah and I were meant to find out the gender a week from now.

I should be as excited as this woman is, if not more. But instead I’m engulfed with disappointment. “No, not yet.”

“And your husband? Where is he? ”

“I’m going to see him now. He’s busy working at the moment, so I thought I’d surprise him.” A part of me feels guilty about lying to the complete strangers sitting next to me, but I have a feeling the truth would cause a very hostile and judgmental drive to Shadow Peaks. And besides, this version of the story, although false, made me feel a tad happier than I felt five minutes ago.

“Oh that’s wonderful dear. Such stability!” If only you knew Alice, if only you knew.

I’m convinced a tumbleweed will roll past me anytime now - it’s as if I’ve stumbled into a 20th century cowboy movie, or Rango.

Man, I love that film.

Shadow Peaks is not at all what I expected.

I had expected old gothic-style houses with darkened rain clouds over the town, but was instead met with a beaming sun shining down on me and smiles from every local I passed like we’d known each other for years. Call me the grinch, but it’s infuriating when everyone around you is happier than you.

Despite this, I had no time to wallow. I was locked in with the job of tracking down my ex-boyfriend to get my car and my money back.

God. What was I doing?

What would I even say if I found him?

I really should have thought this through.

He was going to laugh in my face if I turned up as hopeless as I felt now.

I hesitantly walk into the first place I see, which is a bar called “Spooky Hoots” and I almost immediately regret my decision when the smell of liquor floods my nose.

My stomach practically churns at the smell and it’s enough to stop me in my tracks as the double swing doors I’ve entered sway behind me. Personally I love the smell of alcohol, the baby however, does not and has not for the past five months.

“Morning, what can I get for you?” The brunette behind the counter calls out with her head down as I walk in. It isn’t until I walk closer that she looks up and her eyes flicker over me and my overnight bag that hangs on my shoulder, yet she says nothing.

Despite her staring, there’s no judgement in her eyes.

“What’s with the pathetic fallacy in this place? Spooky Hoots? Shadow Peaks?”

She lets out a laugh and she shrugs her shoulders. “I couldn’t tell you, but I felt the same when I turned up a month ago.”

“You did?” Somehow it makes me feel like less of an outsider knowing that someone is in the same boat as me, or maybe she’s just jumped off with a life jacket. I should follow suit.

She nods again. “I’m Odessa. And you are?”

“Emberli.” I tell her.

“So what are you doing down here?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

Odessa’s eyes meet mine with a curious glint to them, but again, she says nothing.

“Elijah Walters? Do you know him?”

Her expression remains unreadable but she thins her lips, “I don't know him personally but, I know someone who does.”

The someone who does has got to be slightly above 6’4, stands with his arms crossed and his eyebrows closely knitted together. His cold demeanour alone has me feeling like I’m twelve years old again and getting told off for doing something I shouldn’t have. His facial features are sharpened like the look he gives as he peers down at me, reaching his large hand out for me to shake. The man is gorgeous, there’s no doubt about it. But he is also terrifying.

“Thayne Rawlins.”

“Emberli Taylor.”

“So you know Elijah?” Unlike the woman who stands polishing glasses next to him, his tone is laced with judgement. Or disbelief. Or maybe disgust .

God, I can’t tell the difference. My brain functions to dissect others’ brains, as if it’s trying to gather information to conclude if they like me or not. I had an insane fear of not being liked and it often kept me up at night.

“I like to think so.” I shift in my seat under his gaze. If this man was trying an intimidation tactic, it was working. Nevertheless, I thrived off people liking me and I was not getting those vibes from Mr. Broody over here. I was getting the opposite and that hurt my ego. “But at this point, I don’t know.”

“Do you happen to know where he is?”

I shake my head. “I followed his location until he turned it off two hours ago.”

Mr. Broody lets out a noise that can only be described as a grunt. He actually grunts.

He doesn’t say much else, but his critical gaze flickers over me again and his eyes rest on my growing bump. I place a hand on it protectively and his dark brown eyes shoot up to meet my own. His mouth opens yet he says nothing, not until the door swings open and then, and only then, does he murmur a ‘for fuck’s sake.’

“Thank goodness you’re still here. I was worried my brother had scared you off.” Thayne’s brother appears in front of me, slightly breathless as he greets me with a wide smile. “Mack Rawlins.”

It was hard to believe that the two men before me were brothers. And if it wasn’t for their similar features and Mack’s confirmation, I’d have a hard time believing that they were. They were somewhat of a similar height, although Thayne was slightly broader in size and dressed in dark blue Wranglers and a tight fitted top that was on the borderline of being white. Like his arms, his shirt had dark stains all over. He came across as hostile, uptight and grumpy.

Mack, on the other hand, is dressed in a spotless sheriff uniform, one that had a sheriff badge on the left side of his chest, and happiness radiated from him. His shoulders are relaxed and he continues to smile at me as he reaches his hand out. “It’s a pleasure ma’am.”

Elijah didn’t tell me much about his hometown. He claimed that he was running away from what was expected of him because he wanted to be something else. And at the time I was so in love with the idea he presented to me, I found it mesmerising how he did what he wanted to do, not caring about what anyone else thought, because I could never dream of that. My entire life had felt like a puzzle piece to me. And I often found myself asking for the advice of others before I carried out a big task, reassurance had me handcuffed for years and I couldn’t do anything about it. It was the constant fear that I’d be wrong.

My mom was one of those from whom I’d ask advice regularly. That woman was my rock. I was never good at friendships growing up or relationships.

Shocker, I know.

Our relationship was strained a lot during those times, but we’re closer than ever now. I missed her a lot when I was on the road.

I miss being back home and just being there in case I was needed by her or the rest of my family. It was hard being away as the eldest. I felt like I was abandoning them all to do what I wanted to do and I’d never felt more selfish. I couldn’t bring myself to call her, to tell her that the man I boasted to her and lied about was in fact a lousy sleaze who stole my well-earnt car along with some money… Along with my dignity too. There were countless times in which I lied to my parents about what Elijah was truly like. He wasn't this hard-working and nice guy who I originally thought gave me everything I wanted. Instead, he was a professional in the art of gaslighting who I constantly worried about upsetting. And it was my fault, because I settled for that. I settled for him.

I settled for less when I deserved more. I didn’t deserve a man who refused to communicate with me when that was all I ever asked of him, a man who was persistent in knocking me down and making sure I stayed that way, a man who walked away from our relationship scot-free whilst I was left to bear the consequences. I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve this .

It appears I’ve been zoned out far too long and a glass of water clinks down in front of me.

Odessa’s sympathetic smile cuts through me. “You look like you’re on the verge of dehydration there hon.”

Thinking back, I don’t think I’d had anything to drink today. It was safe to say that I had been otherwise occupied and hence my reason for only picking up my first glass of water at three in the afternoon.

“Do those things help?” I nod to the huge bright pink insulated tumbler that sits on the bar.

The woman before me shrugs. “It’s not mine. It belongs to Willow.” Like I’m supposed to know who Willow is.

“Who’s Willow?”