Merry with a Lawman (Love Beach, Holiday Collection)

3. Biggest Fear

THREE

BIGGEST FEAR

DAVIS

I grumble from the ass chewing I just gave one of the officers over something stupid—the wrong color of ink he uses signing a report from a burglary. I have a certain way I like my officers to do things, and he crossed the line with that today, no matter how mundane.

He mutters about how much of an asshole I’ve been lately under his breath as I saunter away. I deserve it, and I need a drink and unwind from this controlling jerk I’ve become. But control is the only way I’ve been able to manage my life for so long… I glance at the clock. It’s five minutes before my shift being over. Fuck it.

I take off and drive through town and can’t avoid all the holiday cheer decorating every inch of Main Street. Christmas is a few weeks away and these people have had the lights and boughs up since before Halloween. I should speak to the mayor next time I see him and propose a new law that decorating doesn’t start until the first of December. Or later.

Don’t even get me started about the holiday music playing around the clock on the local radio station blaring through the speakers on every block. Sitting at the last stoplight, I have half a mind to get out of my truck and yank down the huge green wreath with a red bow from the pole.

That’s it. I’m officially Love Beach’s Grinch this year.

I pull off Main onto the road leading to my new place, a quiet little cabin set on a few acres, far back off the road among trees, very private. I bought it not long after I came out of the coma. After being run over in the street in front of my old house in town, something inside of me needed a peaceful place that didn’t remind me of it all.

Only when I get to the clearing, and the trees part revealing my sanctuary, there’s a few cars in front of the house. My blood boils.

“Fucking Jackson.” I should never have let him room with me after he returned from service in the Coast Guard. Now a ship captain for a local fishing and tourism company, he spends his days at sea, and his nights with women, rarely the same one twice, always from the tourist crowds.

“Hey, buddy! Come join us. The water’s fine,” he greets me with a sly grin from the hot tub, given the sliding doors are open onto the back deck when I walk in to the house. There’s a woman on each side of him. The very definition of a man whore.

“Christ, I’m not in the mood for this tonight. You think you can take your chicks elsewhere?” I swipe two beers from the fridge and disappear into my room. After a few swigs, I undress out of my uniform and put my gun into my safe. Then I sit and lean against my headboard and try to forget today.

The past few weeks.

The past year.

My parents.

Belle.

Forget it all. But I can’t, no matter how fast I chug the brews.

Eventually, I hear cars leave and not long after, a knock comes at my door.

“Buddy. You okay?” Jackson pokes his head in.

“You think you could tone down the man whoring for a while, maybe through the holidays? I need a break.” This house was supposed to be my peaceful place, and it was throughout my recovery. I thought adding Jackson as a roomie might help get me back to a normal place. But it really hasn’t been.

“A break or a good fuck? How long’s it been?” He snickers, and stands in the doorway in a t-shirt and board shorts, his arms folded, hands under his armpits. Lucky for him he’s not dripping on my wood floors he helped me DIY a few months back. I’m in the mood to hit someone and he’d do.

I finish my beer and send the can sailing across the room. It lands in the waste basket perfectly without touching the rim.

“Nice. Two points for you. Now, out with it, Levigne. I know I’m not your best buddy Beau, but I’m second best, and right now, given how much of a grump you’ve been lately, I might be the only friend you have left. So, I’m all ears. I sent the girls packing. It’s just us. Lay your problems on me, man.”

I scoff and take in a deep breath, trying to calm down. The tension between my shoulder blades wears worse than ever. And since I’ve been avoiding a visit to Belle’s office, the next best thing might be unloading ten tons of crap out of my head.

I spill it all. Jackson listens, taking a front-row seat on the floor to hear my shit show. At my worries about Mom’s sentencing hearing coming up next week, he nods, like he understands the stress of that. In some ways, maybe he does. He and Beau lost their parents in a freak car accident, and ended up raised by their wealthy grandparents.

At least they didn’t have to endure what Addie and I did, being raised by abusive parents and so far below the poverty line… We often escaped in the middle of the night to run cross the field to Beau and Jackson’s place, sheltered by their grandparents during the worst of the abuse.

I squeeze my eyes shut against the memory of the last fight I had with the man who was supposed to be my father. I finally grew big enough and stood up to him. We traded punches, at first my teenaged body able to keep up, but eventually I hit the floor, and he kept kicking and hitting. I blacked out. Sometime early the next morning, I came to, concussed, to find the police taking him out in handcuffs, spitting and cursing the entire way until they shut him in the back of the cruiser.

Addie had escaped to Beau’s and told his grandparents, who immediately contacted the authorities. That was the last night I saw my tormentor, and he’s been in prison ever since. Even if by some chance he got out, I’ve sent him messages through some friends who are guards there that he shouldn’t set foot in this town again or face my fury.

Mom and I have maintained a difficult relationship ever since. But to run me the fuck over in the middle of the street? She claims we were arguing; she was high and mad at the time. Unfortunately, I don’t recall much of that night, not even any memory of Mom behind the wheel of her car. Nothing. My memory hasn’t returned yet. Don’t know if it ever will.

I’ve talked with a few therapists who believe my memory loss to be a delayed response to my family trauma. My mind’s way of dealing with it all is shutting it out completely.

Only I can’t shut out my time with Belle. Wish I could. I move on to that topic next, letting Jackson in on the biggest secret ever about her and I.

He simply wiggles his brows with a grin. “I already knew something was happening between you two.”

“What? How? We kept it quiet.” I scowl; if he thinks something is going on, who else would?

“Maybe, but I noticed the looks you two shared on more than one occasion. The heat there…whew. Shit, I figured you two were next to marry. First Beau and Addie. Then you and Belle, probably eloping to Vegas because you’re not the kind of guy to stand for ceremony and spotlight. Then, I don’t know… Maybe Gigi and I.”

I’m the one giving him a shocked face at that news, my eyes bulging out. “What the fuck? You two do nothing but argue when we’re all together. Been enemies since school.”

“Damn, right? She’s the only woman that gets under my skin and my back up. And my dick too. A triple threat.”

“Have you?—”

“Nope. Not yet.” A cocky grin slides across his face. “I’m waiting. One of these days, one of our fights, I’m going to haul her over my shoulder and carry her off to bed for the best enemy fuck ever. The right time is coming soon. Mark my words.”

“And you’d what, drop your playboy ways from that point forward?”

“Yeah. I think I might.”

“What makes you think Gigi would want you like that?”

“I don’t know, but she’d be a helluva challenge. A lot of these chicks do nothing but preen and pose on Instagram. Not Gigi. She’s a woman of substance. There’s more to her than meets the eye.”

I shake my head; I don’t understand anything anymore. My world used to be so tidy and neat. I had control of it; now it’s a cluster.

“But back to you and this problem with Belle. She’s fucking hot. Why the hell are you here and not sliding into her in bed?”

I practically launch out of my room and head to the kitchen for one more beer, three being my limit, always. Never lose sight of that. I’ve tested myself, and I know beyond three I’m a horrible drunk. I dread losing control. Besides, I’m wiped for the day and need to sleep and one more would help.

Jackson joins me, and we lean against the counter, sipping quietly until I can talk again. I finally come clean with my deepest worry, the one thing that scares me the most. I may have put up a good front to Belle, fast to state there’s nothing I fear, but there is.

“You know my parents’ relationship wasn’t a good example. What if I’m like my old man? A total monster. If I ever hurt Belle… I couldn’t live with myself.”

Jackson points at me, almost seething. “Listen, motherfucker. Your old man was cut from an entirely different cloth than you. There’s no way. So get that out of your head now. Besides, if you ever hurt Belle or any woman you end up with, Beau and I wouldn’t let you get away with that shit.”

I take the scolding and finish my beer, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks, man. I’ll hold you to it.”

These friends of mine are more my family than my own. Addie and I are lucky to have them. No matter what Jackson says, as he continues to try to convince me to call Belle and have a real try at a relationship, I know I still can’t let myself go there. But I’ll always be her friend until the end. We started as that, and I hope somehow we can get back to it.