Passion in Bloom (Hometown Heartstrings #2)

Chapter 5

Heather

I came home after work so hopeful when I saw no sign of David all day. It wasn’t in my nature to be optimistic, but I wanted to be. I craved a normal night of something as close to peace that I could find. The little bit of normalcy I was starting to enjoy here had been shattered with David showing up, but I so badly wanted to believe I could get a taste of it back.

The hope didn’t last.

I set my purse down. I hung my coat on the back of a chair, and then I got stuck. Just looking at the chair Roarke had sat in had me frowning. As I let my gaze drift higher, to the edge of the table where he’d placed me to sit so he could hold my skirt up and—

“No.” I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed the back of my neck. I wasn’t going there. I was not letting my thoughts stray to him and that wonderful moment of bliss that I’d never felt before.

It was so damn tempting to give in and revisit the memory of such ecstasy. To dismiss all the clutter of worry and stress from my mind and focus on how good he’d made me feel with his mouth, his tongue.

Dammit. I pushed my legs together, as if that would stem the pressure already building between them. That delicious ache didn’t belong here, not now. I couldn’t dare to daydream and entertain a lusty fantasy about that man going down on me again so skillfully. It was a hell of a taunting draw. To just let go and not think. To feel and clear my mind.

But what good would that really do?

None.

Escaping into a fantasy about Roarke wouldn’t solve my problems. It’d be a distraction at best, and right now, so long as David remained in or near Burton, I could not afford any slip in keeping my guard up. I had to focus on remaining alert at all times now.

Not lust after that man.

I kept my eyes closed for a moment longer, holding the back of my neck as I exhaled steadier, deeper breaths. Meditation had never been something I ever got far with. David didn’t “believe” in that sort of “nonsense” and he discouraged me from trying to learn how to meditate. Since he was at the office I worked at and also at home, he lorded over all my time to make sure I never dabbled in something as simple as breathing techniques. Self-care couldn’t be allowed when he had to be the one to dictate all of my care, withheld or otherwise.

It came naturally to me now though, standing in the middle of this cabin, shutting off my sense of sight to just be. And breathe. In and out. In. And out—

Knocks sounded on the door, jarring me from this moment. I yelped, wrenching my eyes open wide as I turned to face the door.

I held my breath, not daring to move as I catalogued this damn sense of déjà vu. It wasn’t David. Somehow, I knew that. It didn’t sound like his knock, which was such a lame thing to realize, but it was Roarke’s voice that proved it.

“Heather? Are you all right?” Now he knocked. I could tell in the frantic pound of his fist on the door.

“I heard her.”

I narrowed my eyes, breathing again. He’s talking to someone. Todd? They’re checking in on me? I wanted to be touched. To be moved by this sweet gesture, but I was too skeptical.

“I heard you,” he shouted to me. “Are you okay in there?”

I shook my head, snapping out of the instant spike of panic that the sound of someone knocking on my door could cause. I was never this jumpy. When I was with David, showing him signs of jumpiness could be used against me. Shielding myself from him was the first step in trying to survive, and that meant forcing myself to always be vacant and numb, never to let him think he’d surprised me.

Before I reached for the doorknob, I detoured toward the window. Roarke, I knew. I could understand why he was here. He’d made a habit of wanting to check on me, or just to talk to me, that I wouldn’t have to fear him.

But I didn’t know who else stood out there. I tugged back a slight crack in the curtains, taking a quick peek.

Fuck. Roarke! What the hell are you thinking?

The Burton police cruiser was parked out there with his truck.

The cop!

It seemed all my gestures and demands to be left alone had fallen on deaf ears. Bringing any member of law enforcement into my business was the very last thing I wanted or needed.

“Ms. James?” another man called out.

I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back a groan at the sound of Marty’s voice. I didn’t know the officer to loathe him personally. He’d started working here during my time away in Chicago. The old, grumpy, pain-in-the-ass cops who’d been fed up with my parents—and me, by association—had retired and moved to Florida.

Marty might not know all the prejudices against me. There was a slim chance he had no clue who I was or how awful my parents were as lousy citizens in Burton. Yet, I didn’t want to get to know him now or give him a chance to be acquainted with me after my incident with David.

Crap. What if David already called the law about Todd holding that unloaded gun? Maybe Marty’s only here because charges were already pressed and—

“Heather?” Roarke called out again.

Damn you. I heard that note of worry in his gruff tone. Damn you for caring. Damn you for intervening. I didn’t want his sympathy or concern. I just wanted to be—to be safe and free. But here I was, obligated to assure him I was alive and well.

I opened the door, finding them both standing on the single step of a stoop at the entrance to this cabin.

Neither man flinched at my abrupt opening of the door. And neither man reacted to the stern glare I kept on my face. I wasn’t happy about them stopping by, and I wasn’t afraid to let them see it.

Marty spoke first. He did so as he lifted his hand and pointed at the wood panel I still clutched. I wasn’t letting go. I wasn’t giving them any indication that I wanted them to come inside.

“You need a peephole on that thing,” the cop said.

I nodded, already having thought the same. “That’s what you drove all the way out here to tell me?”

“No.” Marty cleared his throat, not wavering in this direct eye contact. “I wanted to come by and do a wellness check on you.”

“I’ll well.” I nodded once, ready to retreat inside.

“Heather. I told him about—”

“Why?” I cut off Roarke without masking my frustration. “Why? What right did you have to tell anyone about what happened to me?”

He furrowed his brow, watching me like he figured he’d never understand what made me tick.

“I didn’t ask you to get anyone involved in my business.”

He huffed. “I don’t need your permission to tell the law about a stranger breezing into town and harassing a woman.”

“I didn’t ask you to intervene. I didn’t ask you to get involved in my business,” I stated, trying my hardest to keep from raising my voice and sounding hysterical. I felt hysterical, and that was bad enough. “Butt out of things that don’t affect you.”

“It did affect me!” He exhaled a long breath, then raked his hand through his thick brown hair. Look, I understand that you like and value your privacy, but that man wasn’t going to stop.” He locked a hard stare on me, one I was powerless to look away from. “If I hadn’t butted in, David wouldn’t have walked away.”

I kept my lips pressed tightly together, praying tears wouldn’t betray me now.

He was right.

Of course, he was right.

David never quit. He never stopped until he got exactly what he wanted.

And it wasn’t as though I’d put up a fight. How could I have fought back or protested when I clammed up and got rigid with fear in a horrid panic attack?

“He almost didn’t leave you be until Todd showed up.”

At that mention, I looked at Marty. “He didn’t use it,” I rushed to say. “Todd didn’t fire it or anything.”

Marty nodded. “Roarke filled me in.”

I scoffed. “Well, I see that .”

“You don’t want him to know?” Roarke pointed at Marty. “You don’t want David to be stopped by the law enforcement?” He growled, shaking his head briefly. “For fuck’s sake, Heather. Why are you protecting that piece of shit?”

“I’m not protecting him.” David would never earn my need to protect.

“Then let me help. Let Marty help. Just talk to—”

“No.” I retreated one step into the cabin.

I didn’t want his help. Couldn’t he see? I’d never asked him for anything.

Roarke and Marty, and hell, Nance, too. They all back off and let me be. Where Roarke was concerned, I simply wasn’t strong enough to be trapped under his help. I didn’t want to be stuck after his favor or good deed of heroism. That was how it all began when I arrived in Chicago. That was how David dug his claws into me. It wasn’t a matter of independence that had me not wanting his help. It was a matter of survival, the only mode of surviving that I knew of—solo.

“I’m not interested in talking to either of you about my ex-boyfriend.” I was proud of how firm my voice sounded. How clearly I enunciated my position, no hint of fear available for them to see.

Irritation was in charge of my attitude now, and that was far better than wallowing in panic.

Marty nodded, accepting what I said. He nudged Roark’s arm, but the tall, stubborn man didn’t react. Still staring at me, serious and worried, he didn’t step back.

“Let’s go,” Marty urged him. “She said she doesn’t want to talk, then she doesn’t want to talk.”

I crossed my arms. “That’s right.”

“Heather,” Marty said as he backed up and tugged on Roarke’s sleeve to prompt him to walk away, “please don’t hesitate to call me if you change your mind. If you’d like to talk about David Kenning. Or anything else at all. If you feel unsafe and—”

“No. I’ll be fine,” I lied.

That was the winning combination of words that made them leave. Marty encouraged Roarke to back up, but as he did, he kept looking back at me, as though he could will me to change my mind.

They couldn’t force me to say anything. And there simply was no damn point to open my mouth at all. David was invincible. He’d never be stopped, and letting the cops get involved would somehow be more ammunition to use against me.

I stood at the front door, watching through a crack as Marty turned the cruiser around and drove back down the bumpy path that would lead back to town. Roarke left as well, taking his truck further toward the woods to go home to his own cabin.

Yet, I stayed there, looking out at the darkening scenery. The sun set so much earlier now, but there was still plenty of light for me to zone out and wonder.

Are you watching, David?

Are you out there?

Why? Why me?

Why can’t you just give up and let me go?

Just before I turned to go inside, I caught sight of Nevaeh coming up the path.

Now what?

She didn’t seem to be heading toward my cabin, not veering off the path to come this way.

With her head hung down, her purple and blue strands curtaining her face, she seemed intent on slowly walking her bike further on.

Probably going to Roarke’s.

Then she pitched forward, sinking into a crouch as she puked. The sounds of her retching reached my ears, and I grimaced at how violently she heaved.

“Ah, dammit.” Careful to keep the deadbolt engaged so the door wouldn’t shut all the way—been there, done that with getting locked out—I hurried closer to her.

“Hey, are you all right?” I asked.

Worry filled me, and I wondered how much thinner she could be. How much more gaunt she could look.

“Oh.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she glowered at me. “It’s you .”

I dismissed her bitter attitude. The last time I spoke to her, she’d been planning on getting money from me. I bet that wouldn’t endear me to her, but I wouldn’t go soft on her now.

She wouldn’t get a handout from me, not a single cent, but I could offer her assistance when she was ill. That was a facet of basic human decency I still possessed despite what David did to me.

“Yeah. Me. Heather. Cabin lady. Are you all—” I walker closer, tempted to rub her back because that seemed the most natural thing to do when a child threw up.

No. She’ s not a child. She’s nineteen, and she’s no kid for me to comfort.

“You turn me away when I ask for a couple of bucks and now you’re going to act all concerned. Screw you.”

Her harsh attitude had yet to dissuade me. “I am concerned.”

“Too bad. Leave me alone.”

She uttered the very same sentiment I’d just told Roarke and Marty.

To leave me alone.

To let me be.

Nevaeh wanted the same thing, and as she trudged onward, walking alongside her bike and using her grip on the handlebars as a walker, I debated the wisdom in respecting her wishes. She didn’t look like she was stable and well enough to be left on her own.

And I couldn’t help but wonder if that was exactly how Roarke viewed me. Weak and obstinate to reject all help.

I have to.

I returned to my cabin, glancing over my shoulder as Nevaeh continued down the rough road toward her uncle’s place.

I have to reject all help because accepting it in the first place is how I got trapped in this hell I’ll never escape from.