Chapter 26 Lainey
Lainey
I’m staring at the stunning bouquet of flowers on Remington’s coffee table.
After the absolute disaster that was meeting my mother, I thought he was going to drop me off at my apartment and need some space from me.
However, he took me to his house, wrapped me in his arms, and held me all night long while I cried.
Bright pink flowers are arranged in a round glass vase, their scent filling the house, and there is a card laid out next to it.
Remington had to work today, so he must have gotten up early to leave this before going into the station.
I was so emotionally exhausted from our dinner and all the crying that my body completely shut down.
I didn’t even wake up or hear Remington leave.
When I finally rolled over to an empty bed, my head throbbed painfully and my throat was dry.
I felt hungover even though I barely had a few sips of the wine my mom paired with her terrible chicken.
I bring my cup of tea to the couch, wrap up in my favorite knitted throw blanket, pick up the card from the coffee table, and flip it open to see Remington’s distinct, blocky handwriting.
Good morning, beautiful,
I am so sorry that I had to leave you and go to work today. There is no place I want to be more than right next to you this morning. I know I told you this last night, but I will say it over and over again—
I’m so proud of you for standing up for yourself.
Text me when you wake up.
XO, R
PS: These are hyacinth flowers. They are meant to represent comfort, and the scent is used a lot for aromatherapy and stuff. I guess it helps make you feel calm and relaxed when you smell them? I don’t know if it will help or not, but I thought it was worth a try.
Hugging the card to my chest I let out a shaky breath, tears I thought ran out last night slip past my lids and trail across my raw cheeks.
I don’t bother wiping them away. Remington was unable to be here this morning when I woke up, but somehow managed to still find a way to take care of me.
I shut my eyes and draw in a deep breath, really focusing on the scent of the flowers in front of me.
I’m not sure the “aromatherapy” is the reason I feel calmness start to pool in the center of my chest. I think it has everything to do with Remington and the peace, comfort, and happiness he has brought to my life.
Last night was beyond horrible. Worse than any practice scenario I could have possibly role-played in my mind.
I knew it was not going to be smooth sailing introducing Remington to my mother, that is why I was trying to prepare so much beforehand.
He thought I was going way over the top with all the questions and information dump I gave him, but in the end none of it mattered.
Ann Quinn took one look at my tall, rugged, tattooed boyfriend and turned her nose up.
I saw it instantly. Remington had worn nice jeans, a pressed blue button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up, and of course his signature boots.
He was so handsome I had to try not to drool when I looked at him.
I had hearts in my eyes when I looked at him, but my mother had daggers.
Bringing a significant other home is always cause for anxiety, and this felt so different because Remington is more important to me than anyone I have ever dated in the past. I was deeply embarrassed by the way she was treating us, but when she started in on how Remington was not good enough for me, demeaning his job and his morals, I snapped.
Never in my twenty-six years of life have I ever spoken to my mom like that.
It ripped something open in me doing it, but at the same time it also set something free.
Living under the Quinn roof meant I was always expected to do as I was told, stay quiet, and mold my opinions to my parents’ whims. Calvin was the golden child that could do no wrong, would carry on the family name, and is my father’s pride and joy.
When I was younger I dreamt of Cal being my best friend, but he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me.
I was his annoying little sister, and he had much more important things to do than play with me, pay attention to me, or even try to be nice to me.
I was an extra burden that never lived up to the unrealistic pressure my parents placed on me.
They wanted to make me into a replica of a robotic doll they could prop up at parties, have on the Christmas card, or bring up as a point of conversation to try and make my parents more relatable to other people in their circle.
I wanted genuine attention and love, as any child does from a parent.
What I received was constant criticism. Tepid warmth from my mother and cold disinterest from my father.
It was a very lonely existence in their world.
I often wished I would stumble upon secret adoption papers that would explain why I was so other in the Quinn house.
One thing I have learned being around Remington and his family is how horribly dysfunctional my family truly is.
I obviously have been working on myself and my issues in therapy for years, but sometimes it takes a major moment in life to unlock a part of your brain which allows you to see things from a different perspective.
Once your eyes have been opened, you can’t go back.
The excuses you made in the past and used as tourniquets can’t ever cover up the gaping wounds that are left behind from your trauma—the experience leaving you bleeding out and broken all over again.
That is how I felt last night. After we left my mom’s house I was numb the whole ride home, not saying a word.
Remington just held my hand, his strong silence riding shotgun with us, holding me just as tightly.
When we got to his house my entire body began to shake.
He came around to my side of the truck, scooped me into his arms, and carried me inside.
We went right to the bedroom where he gently changed my clothes and slipped one of his softest, most well-worn FGFD T-shirts over my head.
Remington stripped down to his boxers, guided us to the bed, and wrapped me in his arms where I completely shattered.
He held me for what felt like hours and let me cry, rubbing my back, running his hands through my hair, and whispering comforting words that only he could deliver to my heart in that moment.
Reading his card again, I have an overwhelming need to see him.
Knowing that I would be useless at my own job today, I had already put in for a sick day first thing.
I needed a mental health day, and I was not going to talk myself out of using it.
I know Remington’s working today and I do not want to be a distraction, but I was told by Chief and everyone else that I was always welcome at the fire station.
I decide a quick visit will be good for both of us after last night.
A long hot shower, quick breakfast, and some extra time getting ready to my favorite ’90s country playlist has me feeling more like myself.
I grab my things and head out the door, making sure to lock up properly with the fresh set of house keys that Remington gave me not long ago.
My navy-blue SUV is parked in its usual spot in his driveway, the sun reflecting off the paint and . . .
What the hell!
I race toward my car and see the driver’s side is sporting an extra layer of paint today. Bright red spray paint to be exact. It is offensive in its color and the nasty word written along the entire length of my car.
WHORE
Tears of anger fill my eyes, and fear has my hands feeling instantly sweaty. Why would someone do this? I can’t drive my car around town like this! And how much is this going to cost me to have fixed? Obviously I have insurance, but I don’t know what kind of vandalism is covered on my plan.
Jesus, this is Fox Grove. I moved away from the city to a quiet town with “low to no crime” to avoid things like this. Well, not THIS exactly but . . . what the fuck!
Pulling out my cell phone I dial the one person I need right now.
He picks up immediately. “Good morning, baby. How are you?” Concern is thick in his voice, and I know he will be even more worried when I tell him my news.
“Hey, yeah. Thank you so much for the flowers and the card. They’re lovely,” I try to say calmly, even though the longer I look at my car the more panicked I feel.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t wake up next to you today, but I just needed you to know I was thinking about you—I am always thinking about you,” he rasps.
“I miss you,” I choke out.
“I miss you, too, beautiful. Why don’t you come down to the station and hang out for a little while? You can bring some work here if you need to,” Remington suggests hopefully.
“Remington, I was going to come. I was actually just on my way but—” I pause.
Hearing my distress, Remington is on high alert. “What’s wrong, Lainey? What happened?”
Holding back a sob I say, “My car, when I came outside, Remington, someone spray painted my car.”
“What the hell!” he shouts, and I hear a chair screech, and other guys in the background can be heard voicing concern.
“It’s red and says ‘whore’ all along the side of my car, in huge letters,” I whisper to him.
“Baby, listen to me. Do not touch anything. Go back inside, lock the door, and I will be home soon,” Remington tells me with a demanding calmness.
“You can’t come home! You’re working. I will try to call my insurance and figure it out. Have it towed or something.” I do not want to be a burden to him, and this isn’t his problem; the problem is me obviously.
“No, Lainey. This is a crime, and we are going to be reporting it. Sit tight, I’m on my way. Go inside, promise me,” he demands again.
“I promise.” I nod, even though he can’t see me.
“Good girl.” His reply has a shiver running up my spine as I shut and lock the front door.
Less than ten minutes later I am looking out the front window and Remington comes flying up to the house in his black truck.
He quickly gets out, Eli tumbling from the passenger side as they rush over to examine my car.
A look of pure anger ignites both of their handsome faces.
Remington’s rage makes him seem even larger and holds a fury that Eli can’t match.
He looks up at the house and locks eyes with me through the window, which has his feet quickly moving my way. I open the front door and his arms are around me instantly. I am so sick of crying, but I can’t stop the tears from coming. The past twenty-four hours have been too much.
“I’m here, I’m here,” Remington rumbles into my hair, kissing my temple and stroking my back. “It’ll be okay, baby.”
“Why would someone do this?” I ask, pulling back to look up at Remington as Eli joins us in the house, closing the door behind him.
“Hey, Lainey,” Eli says, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I am so sorry.”
“Thanks, Eli. I appreciate you coming, too.” I never expected anyone else to come, or care.
“The whole station wanted to storm over here, but we told them we’d keep ’em updated,” Eli says.
I bury my face in my hands and groan. “Oh my God, they all know? This is so embarrassing.”
Remington winds his hands around my wrists, and I look up at his face. He looks angry and I start to worry. “Lainey, you listen to me right now. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. This is not your fault. This is my fault.”
Now I know his anger is more toward himself than me, but I don’t understand why.
“Why would this be your fault?” I ask Remington and glance at Eli, who’s rubbing his jaw and looking at his best friend with concern.
“Baby, there is only one person that I can think of that would vandalize your car. And seeing what they wrote only confirmed their jealousy and hate.” Remington looks at me, waiting for me to connect the dots that should have been so obvious to me in the first place.
“Cora,” I breathe out angrily.
“Exactly. So it is my fault. I didn’t protect you from her psycho bullshit. I should have been more firm with her the other day and I wasn’t. I’m so sorry.” Agony plays across his face and I can’t stand it.
Gripping his forearms I say, “Her being batshit crazy and jealous is not your fault! Do not put this on yourself, please. You had no way of knowing she would do something like this. You handled things at the cafe like an adult, because you are one.”
“She’s right,” Eli chimes in. “You told me everything that happened, and I know the full history. Cora has always been a bit strange, but this is unhinged, man. We need to report this. Call Danny. He’s our buddy that we graduated with,” Eli explains to me. “He’s a Fox Grove cop.”
Remington nods and steps into the kitchen to make the call. Eli puts a reassuring arm around my shoulders while we wait, and I have never been more grateful for the people I have in my life right now.
When Danny McEntire showed up with his partner, Megan Grove, they introduced themselves and got to work.
Of course there were no prints, but they still needed to check.
They took lots of photos, but the most damning thing for Cora was the video footage from Remington’s security cameras around his house.
She didn’t even try and cover her face or hide the fact that it was her doing the damage to my car.
She had come after Remington had left for the fire station.
The entire time she was working she mumbled to herself incoherently.
It was really creepy to watch and left us all feeling uneasy.
Danny told us that he strongly suggested we file charges and each file a restraining order against her.
We have no idea what the hell is going on with her or what she has been up to since graduation.
She had her business planning weddings and events, but she never came back to Fox Grove to run it.
Remington has not had any contact with her; he cut all ties the night he kicked her out of his apartment and broke up with her.
Cora being back here now and demanding that Remington fulfill some stupid marriage pact from when they were little kids made us all uncomfortable and not in a “haha” way anymore.
Cora just went from an annoyance to a real threat. And nobody knows where she is.