Chapter 12
CHAPTER
Rhett
The Past
Late June—Fifteen Years Ago
THE WORDS WERE beginning to blur together.
Even though exams were over, I was getting a jump start on my reading for next year. I knew it’s what was expected of me. I was pretty sure I failed at least one of my tests and the disappointment from everyone would probably drown me.
It felt like I was studying nonstop, though this should have been my time to have a break.
But I couldn’t let up. It was the only way to keep my head above water.
And when I wasn’t cramming information into my skull, I was with Jenn.
She was the only bright spot in my never-ending spiral of stress and guilt.
Because I still had a wedding on the horizon. One that I was expected to help with.
Feeling overwhelmed, I knew I needed to get out.
I pulled out my phone and typed a quick text.
Me: Meet me at the usual spot?
The answer came less than a minute later. I loved how she always seemed to be waiting for my messages. It was flattering to know a woman was sitting around hoping to hear from me. Particularly since Lucy always had her own thing going on. Lucy didn’t wait around for anyone, especially her fiancé.
Jenn: I was hoping to hear from you! Pick me up?
Me: I plan to go for a run, so I’ll meet you there.
This time there was a pause, and I wondered about it. I felt the stirrings of annoyance at her delay. What was the problem? I started to tap out a testy response when she finally replied.
Jenn: Okay. Meet you there.:-*
She had been adding kissy faces to all her messages recently. I knew we were dancing closer and closer to the line we would inevitably cross.
Jenn was attracted to me.
I was attracted to her.
But there was Lucy. And our wedding. And the life we were supposed to be building together.
In a fit of uncontrollable rage, I clenched my hand into a fist and hit the wall beside the mirror, which gave me nothing but bloodied knuckles. Screw Lucy and the stupid wedding. I was sick and tired of worrying about her feelings all the time.
I put a Band-Aid on my hand and headed back to my room and changed for my run. My frustrated anger needed an outlet. I jogged down the stairs, called out a goodbye to my mom and closed the door behind me before she could try and talk to me.
Lately even my mother was pissing me off.
As I was leaving, my phone vibrated again. Thinking it was from Jenn, I looked at the screen.
Bailey: Hey Rhett! Wanna go see the new Marvel movie this weekend? We haven’t hung out in a while!:-(
This time I did feel a little guilty. Lucy wasn’t the only person I had been blowing off lately. But I didn’t want to feel bad about all the ways I was letting the Herbaugh girls down. So I ignored the text and shoved my phone back in my pocket.
I didn’t bother to give my muscles time to warm up before I began running, heading for Jagged Point.
The streets and houses grew farther apart, and then the landscape turned green and lush.
Trees and bushes took the place of houses and storefronts.
A small, curved bridge finally took me over a burbling creek before I joined the mostly paved path and felt the steady incline of the earth beneath me as I headed into the mountains.
About halfway up, the path turned to gravel. From there it was a fairly straightforward hike, with a windy elevation to the cliffs. Once I reached my usual turnaround spot—an old, gnarled oak tree—I headed back for the overlook.
The isolation of this place never bothered me the way it bothered other people. Lucy hated Jagged Point and refused to come with me when I hiked or ran. The place’s creepy history had always put her off.
Suddenly a sharp cramp shot through my calf. I cried out and stumbled before tripping over my own feet and landing with a loud grunt. I rolled onto my back, lying there for a while, breathing heavily.
Pain throbbed through my limbs, but I was pretty sure nothing was broken, and I breathed a small sigh of relief. Lucy would not be happy if I had to wear a cast for the next six to twelve weeks. My broken limbs—and pride—would heal, but bad wedding photos would haunt us for a lifetime.
“Sorry I’m late,” a familiar voice called out.
I struggled to get to my feet, wincing as the broken skin stretched, blood oozing down my leg. I almost fell back down when Jenn caught my elbow and held me upright.
“Well, this is embarrassing,” I snapped, pulling away from her. If my face hadn’t already been red from exertion, it would definitely be red with humiliation. “You can let go, I am capable of getting to my feet myself, you know.”
Her pretty face fell, and I felt awful for talking to her like that.
It had been happening more and more—my impatience growing, my temper spiking for no reason.
I held out my hand, which she immediately took.
“Actually, thanks. I appreciate the help.” Jenn wrapped her arm around my waist and pressed her soft body against mine, but I didn’t let myself lean on her for support.
No, I could never do that. To her, I would be a man that could stand literally on his own feet.
The immediate warmth that flooded my insides at her presence outweighed the angry mortification. She leaned down to look closer at my leg. “Looks like it hurts. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
She helped me sit down on the grass at the side of the road, her bracelets tinkling like windchimes.
“I think I have a tissue in here somewhere.” She rummaged through her large backpack. Despite the pain, I couldn’t help but grin at her. She looked up at me with a questioning look. “What?”
“I’m really glad to see you.”
She caught my eye and we both fell silent for a long moment. She was beautiful in a way that wasn’t obvious. I loved that she was understated, not needing a face full of makeup like Lucy.
“Being with you is always the best part of my day,” she murmured.
The thread that connected us tightened and loosened with every breath we took. We were at the point of no return. She felt it. I felt it.
Jenn pulled out a pack of tissues and began dabbing at my knees carefully.
I felt flattered by her attention. I reached out and touched her hand.
“It’s nice to spend time together without being interrupted,” I said, thinking of our run-in at the bowling alley and how terrified I’d been that Mrs. Young had seen us together. It’s why I had insisted on spending time with her away from the prying eyes of Fern River.
I knew I was betraying Lucy on almost every level. Shame consumed me and yet, here I was, alone with Jenn once more, finding myself purposefully breathing in the floral scent of her hair and imagining my lips tasting the soft skin at the base of her throat.
“Hey, so while I love our hikes, I was thinking,” she gnawed on her bottom lip in a way that I had learned meant she was anxious, “maybe we could go bowling this week.”
I thought about Tanya Young and her group of gossipy friends and knew there was no way in hell I’d put myself on their radar again. It was too risky. I’d been lucky she hadn’t mentioned anything to Lucy—or Mr. Herbaugh—and I wasn’t risking it a second time.
“I like it up here, though. There’s no cell service except out at the overlook. That’s why I wanted to share it with you; there’s no one around for miles, no way for people to get in contact with you.” I didn’t answer her question, yet she didn’t push it.
“Yeah, that’s not creepy at all. Good thing I know you’re not a killer.” Jenn laughed a little nervously.
I held up my bloody palms in defense. “I’m innocent, I swear.” We both laughed, lightening the mood. “But seriously, being up here, I feel like I can finally breathe.”
Jenn nodded. “I get it. Sometimes you need to get away from everything.” She pressed a tissue against my knee, and I put my hand over it to keep it in place.
“I don’t have any water to flush it out, but I do have some Band-Aids.
” She pulled the box out of her book bag and placed them over the worst of the cuts before helping me stand up.
“You have everything in that bag of yours,” I commented as she zipped up the knapsack.
“I’ve learned to be prepared for anything,” she replied. “I’ve had to look after myself for a while now.”
Jenn seemed so young and vulnerable. “Maybe you need someone to look after you, then.”
She gave me a shaky smile. “Maybe.”
I wanted to know what had happened to her. I could tell someone had hurt her badly. I could tell she was running, but I didn’t know from what or from whom.
“That feels a lot better, thanks,” I said as we began walking back down the hill.
Jenn grabbed my hand. “Good. I’m so glad to be here with you, Rhett.”
It felt natural and comfortable between us, not awkward or forced. We continued to hold hands, like a couple. We probably looked like one too. I realized I liked the idea of that.
“So,” I began, “we’ve been hanging out for weeks now and I’ve been wanting to ask you, what are you doing in town? Fern River isn’t exactly known for being a go-to spot.”
She appeared torn, as if she wanted to tell me something but was scared to. I placed my hand on her arm and pulled us to a stop.
“You know you can tell me anything. I care about you, Jenn. I want us to be honest with each other.” The irony of my statement wasn’t lost on me. I wasn’t being honest with her at all, yet I was urging her to share everything with me.
“I know I can, Rhett.” She took a deep breath. “I ran away from home. I couldn’t stay there any longer. I wasn’t safe. I had to get away from someone.”
She sounded sad and defeated, and I sensed her past had battered and bruised her.
“Are you okay now?” I asked, wanting to know more.
She nodded, but I could see the pain in her eyes. “I will be. Spending time with you is definitely helping.”
“I want you to feel safe with me, Jenn.”