Love At Peace (Hometown Heartstrings #3)

Chapter 15

Heather

T he allure of running away didn’t fade. Every day since David stalked up to me outside Nance’s house, I lost sight of that flicker of wanting to fight back.

To stand up to him for once. To stay in place and look him in the eye and know that he couldn’t control me.

If I run, wouldn’t that be another way of him controlling my anyway?

If I leave my hometown, this temporary safe haven, am I letting him hold all the power over me?

Wanting to get as far from him as possible sounded like a decision I was making on my own behalf. But with him being the motivation to go, he was directly influencing my actions.

Nance made her opinions clear about the matter. Fergus, too.

“I don’t care who he is, you tell Marty,” Nance said as she and Fergus stood in front of the table I’d chosen to eat at in the lunchroom.

“Yeah.” Fergus nodded, matching her stance and crossing his arms. “If he got away with anything before, he’ll have a hard time doing so now. We”—he flicked his finger between himself and Nance—“were right there. We’re eyewitnesses to him harassing you and acting like an asshole.”

“But that’s nothing more than a matter of he-said-she-said,” I said plainly. “And when it comes down to that, his voice will always be louder and taken more seriously.”

“Oh, the hell with that,” Nance argued. “That’s nonsense. I saw him. I heard him. And we got our Ring camera, too.”

I arched one brow. Even video proof wouldn’t stand up to David. They didn’t realize how slick and cunning of a sneaky lawyer he could be. They didn’t understand that David had friends in high places. If they weren’t friends, they were acquaintances who had secrets that he could use against them. “Does the Ring camera show that far of an angle toward where we were by your garage?”

I doubted any camera footage would go far in a case against David, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t collect it and have it on hand.

She cringed. “Sort of.”

“At least talk to Marty about him,” Fergus urged. “We’ll back you up.”

I sighed, not enjoying the pressure to have a conversation with Marty. It would be far simpler to just get up and go. To leave Burton again and not face the hardship of sharing the truth about my past in Chicago. Some scars were better left slowing healing and scabbing over. Talking about what David did to me would be ripping the wounds wide open again.

I wasn’t sure if I could handle the pain.

The decision about staying and toughing out David’s presence plagued me all day. More than once, I researched about Wisconsin Dells and tried to envision myself moving there. Living there and trying to—again—find my place.

Looking up another location was something I’d done before. When I was finishing up my degree at the community college and trying to eke out a savings to get out of Burton, all I focused on was how it would be a grand new start. The thrill of leaving what was familiar to embrace the unknown. Risky, but exciting. That was how I’d viewed those months leading up to me taking off.

It was all I’d talked about or thought about in high school. I made leaving Burton my whole identity, my whole purpose, and the addictive joy of researching about other places was a big reason why I didn’t want to give up on Chicago too soon. Warnings struck my mind. Red flags about David popped up. I wasn’t oblivious to his behavior, but before he escalated to the point of no return, I resisted the idea of leaving Chicago because it represented the mission that I’d worked toward for so long. Leaving Chicago would’ve been like abandoning my dreams, those of a grand life outside of the same old in closed-minded Burton.

This time, as I searched about the living conditions in Wisconsin and all that Wisconsin Dells could offer me, I didn’t experience that same exciting thrill. I wasn’t giddy about moving. It didn’t seem to be a blank canvas, waiting for me to make my mark.

It wasn’t this town, though.

I wasn’t getting hooked on Burton. Although people didn’t seem as consistently judgmental of me here like they used to when I was younger and when my parents were alive to drag down my reputation by association, I wasn’t struggling to get up and go because of this small town.

It was him .

Each time I visualized packing up my cabin and driving away for good, I couldn’t swallow past the pain of knowing I’d be leaving Roarke.

I’d called it off between us. I’d already given up on anything we could build together. Not only that, I’d cut him down with such a harsh attitude and negative tone that he likely perceived as an insult. The last time we talked, I was running high on too many ugly emotions. Maybe he was as well. Nothing about our last conversation should’ve given me an indication that there was still hope with him.

And that was all on me. I’d had to instate distance between us so I could breathe easier in the fact I was resisting Nevaeh being near me. Which in turn meant I was taking action to prevent David being near too.

If I decided to go, I had to take a moment to clear the air with him first.

While that could be a show of being indecisive about him—telling him to leave me be but then seek him out to talk—I grew confident that it was necessary.

There was no way in hell I’d be able to leave without saying goodbye. And the more I acknowledged that, I understood that I had to clear the air. I had to be upfront and honest.

Perhaps after I left, he’d come to terms with why I had to go. Maybe I would be able to spare him the agony of wondering what he’d done wrong.

All throughout Friday, I let the matter simmer in my mind. Then into Saturday, I whiled away my idleness in the cabin by picturing how I’d pack up the little I’d brought here with me.

No matter what I did, though, I could not see myself in Wisconsin Dells and being completely happy.

“Dammit,” I muttered, dragging my hands down my face.

This debate about staying or going was eating me up.

And I refused to wallow in it any further.

“I’ll just tell him enough so he can understand my perspective,” I said as I exited my cabin to get in my car. Giving myself a pep talk out loud helped to ease my nerves. “A quick chat so I can leave without any really hard feelings between us.”

I sat in the car and nodded once. “Just a goodbye.”

I drove into town, hoping he’d still be at the open house at the farmhouse-style home he’d marked as “interested.” If he wasn’t, I supposed I could go look for him at that cabin, but it seemed like a better idea to approach him on neutral ground.

“I’ll tell him just enough about David. A little bit about my past.” I exhaled a long, hard breath, tense from the thought of sharing such details with him.

“And then...”

And then, who knew what. If I ended up going for that job, I wouldn’t be able to apply until late December, just before Christmas. That was when Janelle thought the transfer application would be live and accessible.

Still, taking a step forward to clear the air with Roarke would likely go a long way in letting me sleep easier at night.

I parked behind his SUV that was sitting at the curb. He was here, all right. He’d gone to the open house. Just in front of his car, the A-frame remained open with the hours printed on it.

If the lack of cars on the road was any indication, this house either had serious issues with it that no one else was interested or the other house-hunters had already come by and left.

Or... no one is trying to move and buy a house right now because it’s so close to Christmas...

I locked my car and hesitated for a moment before walking toward the two-story farmhouse. It looked picture-perfect, minus a little chipped paint and unmatched shutters. But I didn’t approach yet. Scanning my surroundings, I held my breath and braced for a threat. If David were around and in the mood to bother me again, now would be the perfect opportunity. I didn’t let myself be out and about alone, but this was an exception.

Twenty yards remained between me and the front door. That simple path of pavement was the only route to go.

Yet, David’s mental warfare had rendered me paranoid and nervous to be exposed for even a second.

Just get this over with. Go.

No one came out. David didn’t stalk up to me. Under the lazy gray skies of broad daylight, it was just me out here, preparing to tell the man I was falling for why I felt like I had to leave town again.

Walking slowly, I tried not to check out the house’s exterior. This was the one place that we’d both daydreamed about together. He liked the porch, but it was the abundance of windows that attracted me to preview the photos linked to the listing. He wasn’t sure about the dated HVAC, and I questioned if the carpet was hiding junky floors or hardwood. Of the limited pickings that Roarke had looked at after this cabin flooded, this one had grabbed our attention.

But it won’t be mine.

Not if I leave...

Footsteps sounded from the edge of the road. Telltale crunches reached my ear, and I gasped, spinning at the alerting noise of someone moving quickly from the road.

David?

Nope.

It was a false alarm.

A jogger carried on, lifting his gloved hand in a wave as he went by, exercising so hard his every breath was a quick puff in front of his wind-burned-red face.

I let my shoulders slump, annoyed with how on edge I remained no matter what.

And...that’s another point in favor of leaving...

I turned back and continued to the house. Squashing all the thoughts about making a home with Roarke, I focused on putting one foot in front of the next and just getting this over.

Saying goodbye—potentially goodbye—wasn’t something I had much experience with.

I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to my parents, and they wouldn’t have given me their attention to hear one from me if I’d tried to.

When I left Burton with my college degree, I didn’t speak to a soul, just up and left to the feeling of freedom.

Then when I ran from Chicago? No, I didn’t linger to bid anyone farewell, especially not David.

If I were to leave my hometown again, I wouldn’t be able to take off without a regret.

As I closed the distance between us, I wished I didn’t have to consider the option of leaving at all.

I missed him.

And that longing would only increase and deepen against my will no matter where I went.