20. Olivia
Chapter 20
Olivia
“This calls for something stronger than wine,” Honey mused as she strode into my living room with a bottle of spiced rum tucked under one arm and a tumbler with ice in each hand. She placed them on the coffee table and pulled a can of Diet Dr. Pepper from the pocket of her cut-off jean shorts. She poured a healthy amount of rum into each cup and topped it off with the fizzy cola. I was curled up on my couch, my tear-stained cheeks finally dry for the first time since this morning.
Honey had sprinted across her yard the moment I arrived home, escorted by a police cruiser. I was still too shaken up to speak, so Officer Marshall explained that my bakery had been vandalized in the early hours of the morning. She left out the part where Landon had been there and how before he left, he’d acted weirdly protective over me.
My mind was still reeling from that odd exchange. He went from hating me and blaming me for ruining his brother’s life to making sure I got home okay. The intensity in his gaze stirred something to life in my gut that was unfamiliar, but not at all unwelcome. It was like he suddenly cared about keeping me safe. I didn’t hate the way that thought made my stomach flutter, but his sudden change in attitude was giving me whiplash.
Honey plopped down next to me on the couch with a drink in her hand and looked at me expectantly. I plucked the other glass from the table and took a sip, coughing at the unexpected burn that ran down my throat. She wasn’t kidding when she said we needed something stronger than wine.
“Okay,” Honey began once I’d composed myself, “start from the beginning. What happened this morning?” Worry filled her eyes as she leaned forward and squeezed my hand.
I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. Where did I begin?
“When I got to the bakery, the back door was unlocked, so I assumed Landon was already there. I wanted to talk to him since we’d had a conversation the day before that...” My voice trailed off as I searched for the right words to explain what had happened without going into detail. “Left me unsettled,” I finished vaguely. I didn’t want her to know how he’d pressed me against the wall with his hand on my face or how much I’d liked it. I couldn’t tell her that I thought he would kiss me or that I was fully prepared to let him. Shame welled in my chest at the thought. I’d been more than willing to let him touch me despite our history, despite his disdain, all because I couldn’t control my body’s reaction to him.
Honey nodded as if she understood. She had no idea.
“I found him at the front of the shop, standing among the broken glass of my shattered window with a brick at his feet.” Honey sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening with surprise. “He’d been angry with me after our conversation, and my mind went to the worst possible scenario.” Guilt washed over me, and I winced, replaying the moment he’d realized I suspected him.
“You accused him, didn’t you,” Honey said, settling her sympathetic gaze on me.
“More or less,” I admitted, my shoulders slumping as I dropped my gaze to my lap. “But that’s not all.”
Honey listened intently as I relayed the entire conversation between Landon and me from this morning, revealing the truth about the night of the accident. Her mouth fell open in surprise before her features twisted with rage.
“That motherfucker,” she growled when I confessed that Lyle had put his hands on me. Her body hummed with barely suppressed rage, and I debated telling her the rest, but it was too late to turn back now. Might as well rip off the band-aid and let the wound bleed. That was the only way it could begin to heal, and I was tired of keeping it all bottled up. Even though we’d been close back then, I never told her what had really happened that night. I never told anyone.
Until Landon.
I continued, my voice shaking as I told her how I finally calmed him down and got him in the car to drive him home. Honey shot to her feet, a string of curses leaving her lips as I recounted the moment Lyle jerked the steering wheel from my hands.
“I’m gonna kill him,” she said matter-of-factly as she paced across my living room. Turning to face me, she planted her hands on her hips and pinned me with her narrowed gaze. “That son of a bitch lied about everything. He turned his family and half the town against you. If I ever catch him out, it’s on sight.” Her fists balled at her sides, and I didn't doubt for a second she meant every word.
Reaching for her glass, she threw back the rest of her drink and took a few deep, calming breaths. She lowered herself onto the edge of the cushion and braced her hands on her knees.
“Okay, tell me the rest.” So I did. I told her everything up to the point when Landon left.
“Oh,” she drew out, one brow lifting in intrigue. A contemplative expression passed over her face, and she straightened in her seat.
“What?” I asked, squirming beneath her scrutiny.
“Nothing,” she said with a wave of her hand, “but I think things are about to change between you and Landon.”