CHAPTER 7 #2
My heart sinks at the thought because I really do love it here. I feel like I’ve found a place to belong. I’ve never felt this, not even in Phoenix. Of course, it’s possible I never felt like I found a home there because I didn’t.
The people who gave birth to me didn’t care to provide one with any real warmth. Why have a child if you’re going to treat them like an inconvenience? I’m never going to allow my children to feel that way.
Woah. I pause after finishing up my morning routine in the bathroom. Where did that come from?
I haven’t thought about the possibility of having kids for a long time. There was no way in hell I was going to bring a child into my relationship with Sylvester. No, I’m not cruel and I was barely hanging on. I can’t imagine how bad it would have been if there had been a baby.
I’m not even sure how he would have felt about it. Thankfully, he never tried to trap me with a child.
Not that it absolves him, far from it. But I’ll take the little victory. Hollow as it may be.
My hands are shaking as I start cleaning my apartment. It doesn’t really need it, but I need to do something with my hands where the actions are methodical and have a clear outcome.
Control.
By the time I’m done, I don’t feel quite as shaky and I force myself into the shower and I take my time while keeping the water as hot as it can get.
It feels like I can’t get my skin clean.
The heat of his breath on my neck is something I can still remember with stunning clarity.
I wish it weren’t true, but lying to myself about the way it makes my skin crawl isn’t going to help anyone.
And now the dream reminded me, vividly, of the feeling of it.
Once I’m dressed, I practically bolt out the door, only glancing at the clock long enough to know Uncommon Grounds will be open. I need some coffee and to not be alone. I can already feel the claws of those memories reaching for me, trying to find purchase.
They want to pull me back there. It’s the last place I want to go. I can’t.
I force a smile on my face when I walk through the door of the coffee shop and find Gianna standing behind the counter while Graham is taking his turn at the espresso machine. The way they dance behind the counter while working is a functional ballet the likes of which I have never seen before.
At first, I didn’t understand that it is their love which allows them to move with each other, around when needed, but never through.
When I realized what I was really watching, I couldn’t look away.
There’s an awareness between them which would be far too easy to be jealous of. I’m glad they’ve found their person.
I’m not sure such a person exists for me.
If that’s what you want to tell yourself.
I shake off the thought because I am not thinking about a certain biker right now. Nope, not even a little bit.
Even if I firmly believe he would find a way to chase away my nightmares if given half a chance. He would probably even be successful vanquishing the dark patches of my memories and the man behind them.
But those are dangerous thoughts, ones I can’t allow myself to indulge in.
“Good morning, Graycie,” Gianna chirps and does a cute little wave which has the tremulous smile on my face turning into a real one. “You’ve come in at a good time,” she informs me, “we’re between rushes at the moment. What can I get you?”
“I’d love to try the iced rose cardamom latte you added to the spring menu,” I order while eyeing the chalk board mounted on the wall.
I’ve been wondering what she’s been cooking up in the back since certain drinks shift with the season. Everything she brought out for Graham to try smelled delicious and I wanted to ask so many questions. But I knew she’d only wink at me and leave it at that.
I learned my lesson when they were coming up with their winter menu. I’m kind of sorry to see it go, but if next year’s is just as good then I can’t wait to see what she comes up with.
My thought makes me pause because it means I’m planning on being around next year. Which is strange when I figured I would keep running.
I had no idea what I would find when I came to Dogwood Ridge. It felt like it was calling to me for some reason. And it is far enough away from a major city to make it feel like I can blend in.
Which I have.
Catching the eye of a biker club VP is not blending in.
Before I can mentally berate myself for thinking about said biker again, two things happen at once—Gianna delivers my drink with an excited and expectant look on her face and Opal struts into Uncommon Grounds.
The moment she sees me, she lights up. But there’s a calculation in her gaze, again, which has me bracing for whatever idea she’s currently campaigning for.
I can’t imagine being her parents growing up. It wouldn’t surprise me if she created presentations, along with slides, to win just about any argument or get any ask.
And now that energy is pointed at me.
Ignoring her for the moment, I take a sip of my drink, and my eyes slide closed as I savor it and take another sip immediately. I make a humming sound which is pure contentment.
“It’s delicious,” I tell Gianna happily.
“Oh,” Opal gushes when she gets to the counter, “whatever that is, I want it.”
“You got it,” Gianna breezes away and Opal pulls me over to a small two-top table.
Moments later Gianna appears with Opal’s drink who hands her a bill and throws in a stern look. Otherwise, Gianna would try and refuse a tip or anything that’s not the price of the drink she just sold. And she undersells those drinks in the first place.
“You let me know when you want another,” Gianna nods toward the drink and gives the same look right back.
I roll my eyes because this kind of thing happens all the time.
The town tries to pay them their worth, but they love this town and want to help take care of us.
“You too, Graycie,” she throws over her shoulder.
The moment she’s gone, Opal leans toward me with a big grin on her face. I cover the grimace on my face by taking another drink of my latte.
“We’re having a girl’s night,” Opal tells me as if it’s already decided.
“No.”
“Come on,” she flops back slightly in her chair, holding out the words with a powerful pout on her face.
But I’m immune to her pouting.
“The family day at the clubhouse was enough for me,” I tell her and look into her eyes.
She won’t be able to see all the shadows there, but I need her to understand I’m putting my foot down. I need baby steps and going out somewhere isn’t in the cards for me right now, especially if there are men I don’t know and alcohol. I’m not ready.
“Okay,” Opal reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze, her voice filled with understanding instead of judgment, “I hear you. Maybe we plan a night in, then? A movie marathon with a ton of junk food sounds like my kind of night.”
My shoulders drop and a little more of the echoes from my nightmare fade away. Not all of it, but enough where I can take a deeper breath.
The roar of motorcycles somewhere in town has me looking out the window, my eyes scanning what I can see while sitting up straighter. But I don’t see anything. It’s a challenge to keep the disappointment off my face.
When I look back at Opal, her smile is far too knowing for my liking.
“Who were you hoping to see?” There’s a tease in her question, but it’s not malicious.
“No one,” I grumble and slump down slightly in my chair.
“I think you were looking for my brother,” she singsongs, far too delighted in the way my face starts to turn pink and then almost bright red. “Oh, from the way you’re blushing, I’d say you have a crush on him.”
“I do not have a crush on your brother. He’s a biker,” I huff as if it’s enough of a reason and makes any fucking sense at all.
We both know it’s hardly a reason after I had the chance to spend some time at the clubhouse, regardless of what people like Sheriff Lyons think about the club. And I didn’t even do a good job of deflecting.
It’s asinine.
Opal just takes a sip of her coffee, her eyes lingering on my face for a moment before she flashes me a bright smile and steers the conversation toward what movies we should watch during our marathon.
I’m thankful, but I still think I hear tailpipes in the distance and the lie about not having a crush on Snake sours my coffee.
What a shame. It was delicious.