Chapter Eight – Weren’t For the Wind
Chapter Eight
Andie
WEREN’T FOR THE WIND
Performed by Ella Langley
The light from Luca’s phone flickered over his father’s face as the boy joined us, and the dark look there had me lingering when I’d planned on hightailing it to my house. I’d seen all sorts of sides of the sheriff by now, and I just wasn’t sure which one would show up tonight.
It made me glad I hadn’t caved in the car when he’d quietly insisted I could trust him.
A piece of me had wanted to do just that.
And not because he was acting sheriff. But because my body had decided it liked him way more than my brain.
“Shit is right, Luca,” Cooper said, voice full of disappointment.
“I was only going to be gone an hour, Dad. I haven’t practiced in days. I needed air. I meant to be home long before dark. But I finally nailed a nollie inward heelflip and needed to make sure I really had it down. I just lost track of time.”
While Cooper ignored his son’s rambling and the plea beneath it to understand, it tugged at my heartstrings.
“You left the dog alone in the house. He destroyed the couch and nearly pissed himself waiting to be let out.”
Luca’s mouth popped open. “What?”
“There’s nothing left of the couch but stuffing, Luc.”
The skateboard fell from his hand, the edge hitting the pavement with a bang. The look in his eyes would have been almost comical in the weird black-and-white hue of the flashlight if I hadn’t felt the fury all but radiating from Cooper.
“I’m calling Sheila,” Cooper said. “We’ll take the dog to her first thing in the morning. You had one shot, and you blew it.”
“No! Dad, I swear—”
“Your word is no longer good with me. You’ve broken every deal we’ve made since moving here. Worse, you’ve broken your word to this dog, who counted on you. He was your responsibility. I told you this was a trial period. You blew it.”
“It’s not Akela’s fault. Don’t take it out on him. Don’t send him to some shelter where he’ll likely be killed when no one takes him.”
“Sheila doesn’t kill—” The look Cooper shot me had me shutting my mouth.
It wasn’t my business, and yet I refused to walk away until I knew the situation was going to simmer down.
Until I knew for sure Luca would be safe.
Whether or not the teen had broken his word as easily as he’d broken my window, I wouldn’t let anyone physically harm him for a mistake.
“Right now, you’re going to take the dog into the house, make sure he has food and water, and then start cleaning up the mess.” Cooper’s tone was firm. No arguing allowed. He stuck out his hand. “Give me the board.”
Luca’s shoulders dropped. I swore tears glistened before he looked away, but he handed over the skateboard.
“I’m taking this to the station tomorrow. It’ll remain there for a month.”
“A month!” Luca shouted.
“If you haven’t proven to me that you can stay in class, do your homework, do your chores, and otherwise keep your nose clean as a whistle by that time, it’ll stay another month.”
“Jail. You’re taking my board to jail! Why not just arrest me too! I bet you wish you had. I bet you wish you’d stuffed me in juvey that night at the skate park just so you could wash your hands of me.”
Luca didn’t wait for a response, taking off at a dead run for the house. Akela jerked his leash out of Cooper’s hands and followed the boy on loping puppy paws. I couldn’t imagine how big the dog would be as an adult, seeing as he nearly reached my waist already.
Cooper’s shoulders tightened at the sound of their front door slamming. He inhaled deeply, looked up into the star-filled sky, and then dragged his hands over his face.
As much as I didn’t want it to, my heart snagged for him just as it had for his son.
They were clearly waging a war that had been going on for a while now. And it said something good about Cooper that it had gone on this long with Luca still able to argue back. I’d twice tried to wage war with my father and never repeated the mistake.
He hadn’t laid a hand on me, but then again, violence didn’t have to be physical to make a mark. That fear, the need to escape my childhood home, had sent me tumbling right into Eddie’s arms.
Knowing Luca wasn’t afraid to storm at his father, that he hadn’t trembled in fear and then slunk off to their house terrified of what would happen because he’d argued back, meant my assumptions the other day had been really far off base.
Anger might be simmering under Cooper’s surface, but he didn’t direct it at his child. Just like he’d insisted.
Emotions clogged my throat. Maybe my body actually knew more than my brain this time around? Maybe this was a good man.
It didn’t matter. Good man or not, I wouldn’t be tangling myself with him, his son, or their life.
I looked down at Vader, who’d watched the whole thing with his head tilted, as if the dog could actually understand the words as well as the emotions that had filled the cool air.
“Let’s go, Vader.”
I was two steps closer to my door when Cooper’s voice halted me. “I’m as sorry for the show we just put on as I am for scaring you earlier.”
“I’m fine, Sher—Cooper,” I told him. “I’d say have a good night, but I doubt you will. So…just take care of yourself.”
I didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, I hustled up the steps to my porch, unlocked the door, and hurried inside with Vader following me.
I dropped my keys on the table by the door, flicked on the lamp, and then looked up at the cardboard I’d taped over the missing windowpane.
At least it had kept the wind out when the storm had blown through, but I’d be glad when it was repaired.
Jonesy at the hardware store had put me in touch with Sookie at the artist colony outside town, who was recreating the hummingbird stained glass.
Jonesy had said he could install it for me once the artist finished.
Hopefully, that would happen before any more storms hit.
I slipped out of the heels I’d been in for most of the day, groaned in pleasure as I curled my toes into the welcome mat, and then headed to the kitchen to fill the bowl of water I kept there for times when Vader visited.
Exhaustion beat at my shoulders. It had been a long day with the final preparations for the wedding and then playing both the role of wedding coordinator and bridesmaid—and that had all been before the drama with Cooper and Cleaver and the panic attack at my car.
Attacks like that usually left me with a headache, and this time was no different. My temples were pounding a vicious beat. In my bathroom, I dug in the drawer for my aspirin, palmed a couple, and swallowed them with water from the sink.
My eyes fell to the ancient tub-shower combo that was on my list to be yanked out once I’d saved up more money. The glass door had a built-in towel rack, and I always hung my towel there after drying off. Except, it wasn’t there. Instead, it was lumped on the tile on the far side of the toilet.
My heart skipped a beat. My palms turned sweaty.
I spun around, searching the bathroom for anything else out of place.
Nothing. Nothing looked different.
I ran into the bedroom, scanning every nook and cranny, from the stripped pine side tables to the four-poster queen bed with its lavender lace linens.
Vader had curled up at the foot of it already and watched as I raced to the closet.
The door was shut, just like I’d left it, and when I opened it with a trembling hand, I found everything neat and tidy as normal, sorted by color and style.
I was overreacting. It was nothing. The towel was nothing. I’d just been in a hurry this morning after I’d gotten out of the shower. I’d been focused on getting to the ranch before Maisey woke up and bringing her breakfast in bed on her wedding day.
And still, even knowing it was probably nothing, my feet took me on a path to the kitchen.
I heard the thump-thump of Vader jumping down to trail after me.
It was reassuring to have him at my side, pushing his head into my hand as I stopped at the edge of the kitchen to surveil it. My pulse beat as fast as it had when Cooper had startled me in the parking lot, my breath just as choppy.
“It’s nothing, Vader. I’m being silly. Ridiculous. Everything’s fine.” Just saying the words required me to breathe more naturally.
I forced my feet toward the refrigerator, opening it with a shaky hand, and scanning the shelves with a desperate hope. The pressure in my chest eased a hair more. Everything looked normal. Nothing appeared to have been moved. No empty milk carton or juice container had been left inside.
I shut the door and moved to the pantry, sliding open the little pocket door and searching the shelves. Perfect neatness greeted me, and yet, in my mind, I saw a hand shoving all the cans and boxes around.
I won’t live in some damn magazine shoot. This is my fucking house. I’ll make a goddamn mess wherever and whenever I want.
I heard the sick smack of a hand colliding with skin, felt the sharp sting so real that I put my palm to my cheek.
Vader whimpered and pressed into my side.
I slid onto the floor, pulled him to me, and buried my face in his fur.
“He’s not here. It’s not real. I’m safe.”
My nerves were just on edge from my encounters with Cooper and had my mind playing tricks on me. I’d just forgotten to hang the towel. It happened to everyone at some point. It didn’t mean anything.
And yet, my body still shook.
After a few minutes, the fear was replaced with fury.
Nine and a half years! Nearly a decade, and yet he still had power over me. Even dead. Even with hundreds of miles between me and his grave, between me and that life, I could still be turned into a trembling mass of spineless goo.
I straightened my back, looking into Vader’s comforting eyes. “If someone from that life found me, Vader, it wouldn’t be Eddie. They wouldn’t put a towel on the floor or mess up the cupboards. They’d be searching for money. Money I don’t have and never did have, but that’s what they’d want.”
Vader tilted his head and then licked my face.