Passion in Bloom (Hometown Heartstrings #2)

Chapter 7

Heather

O ver the next few days , going into work at the bank was my saving grace. I wasn’t alone there, “protected” by the walls of my small office and the knowledge that Janelle, Fergus, and Nance were out there.

It didn’t seem like Nance had betrayed my trust. Janelle seemed generally worried about me, but she didn’t give any indication that she knew about what was stressing me out so much. Same for Fergus. He was aware that something was bothering me, but he didn’t push.

And that was exactly how I wanted it. I didn’t want an overpouring rush of concerns. I didn’t like being the center of attention—ever.

Without any sign of David lurking nearby, it almost could’ve been easy to dismiss that he’d ever stopped by. That it was all my imagination that he was here in Burton, chasing me all the way from Chicago where I’d left him.

It didn’t take me long to recall that deep dread pooling in my stomach though. All it took was one idle moment, and I’d revisit the harrowing fear of looking into his smug eyes again. That was all that I needed to be pushed into the realm of panic and anxiety.

Every day, I came into work more tired than the previous one, getting horrible sleep in the cabin.

I suspected that Todd timed that big water project as a way to try to keep an eye on things near my cabin. Even though I didn’t want anyone swooping in to be a hero or to take my security as their personal responsibility, I couldn’t begrudge him. He was the manager of those cabins, and anything he did out there was something that fit within his role.

Still, there was no way to shake off the creeping sensation of being caught. Of David just showing up, in my face, and ordering me to go “home” with him. Where I supposedly belonged.

In the first days of running from the city, of leaving the bright new future I’d hoped to have away from the closed-minded small town I grew up in, I suffered a profound feeling of defeat. Of failure. Neither of those mixed well with fear, and it wasn’t fair that I had to be subjected to it all over again here, where I’d started to think I could be safe again.

“Any...news?” Nance asked toward the end of Friday’s workday. She came into my office as I checked over more of the toy drive and charity donations.

While I was grateful for an excuse to take a break from these numbers, I didn’t want to talk about what she seemed to be hinting at.

“About what you mentioned?” she clarified.

As if I could forget.

“No.” I gestured for her to come all the way in my office.

She did, shutting the door and sitting across from me. The Yoda earrings she sported dangled from her lobes with how swiftly she moved.

“I haven’t seen him around.”

“I looked him up,” she admitted. Before I could open my mouth, she held her hand up. “Just to know what he looked like.”

I frowned, not liking this intrusion, but then again, social media was available to everyone. She’d asked me what his name was a couple of days ago, and I told her, seeing no harm. My reasoning at that time was that if she heard something about David, she’d be able to report back to me. This lying-low thing was just another technique of messing with me. He preyed on me like that, sneaking close to make his presence known, then slinking back into the shadows to let me fret about him watching me from afar.

“I looked him up on the usual socials,” she said, furrowing her brow. “What an ass.”

I raised my brows. “You can determine he’s an ass from what he posts?” That didn’t add up. “He seldom posts anything. Definitely nothing incriminating or personal.” He’d claimed that he had to be diligent about the public information because of his position as a lawyer.

“No. But he just looks like one.” She crossed her arms and scowled. “He just looks so...smug. Arrogant and self-righteous.”

“He was.” I blinked, catching myself from referring to him in the past tense. I wanted him to stay in my past, but he was back. “He is.”

“I can’t help but wonder how the hell you ever got together with him in the first place.” She shook her head, watching me closely and likely hoping that I’d talk more. “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

I couldn’t help but bark a laugh at that. “My type? How the heck can you guess that you’d know what my type is, if I even have one?”

She shrugged, almost smiling. The expression didn’t completely cover her face though, probably as she recalled the sober topic. “I don’t know. Just a hunch. You don’t seem like the kind of girl to have a type. But he looks like he’d be hard to please. Judgmental and such. And I can’t see you being attracted to someone like that.”

I sighed, wishing I could explain from the very beginning. I never had a type. She was right about that. The way that David and I had crossed paths was far from a conventional meeting, though. If I were to tell her, I’d reveal just how na?ve and gullible I had been with him. From the very first moment, he’d started an intricate and complicated campaign to ensure one thing: to get his way, to get what he wanted no matter the cost or sacrifice.

“It’s a long story,” I said.

“Well, maybe this weekend you can come on over and have that movie night with me. We can talk. If you’re ready. No pressure.”

I shook my head. “I’ve got plans to try to sleep in.”

“You could spend the night. I got that guestroom for my grandkids but they only visit once or twice a year. They’re going to the other grandparents for this holiday season.”

“No. Thank you, but I think I’ll be most comfortable in my own bed.” It felt like a lie. I was sleeping terribly on my own. If I sat down and thought about it, I’d probably feel safer if I was in Nance’s house, with her German Shepherds on guard and her husband a call away even if he was busy trucking.

That sense of safety would be a blessing, but it was one that I had no right to try to take advantage of. I couldn’t afford a false sense of security. It would be an illusion, a distraction. Because I could never be safe when David was near.

Later that night, I tried and failed to relax just like I told her I wanted to. In bed. Lights on. Phone in hand. More than once, I debated texting Roarke, just to see if he was home too.

I couldn’t surrender and lean on Nance, and I sure as hell didn’t want to lean on Roarke either. That was the start of my downfall. The second I depended on someone, then they were in control. In charge. I had to stay independent.

After a lifetime of shunning help, I was simply ill-equipped to know how and when to trust it when it was offered now.

Staring at the numbers he’d given me, I felt slightly better. If I had to call someone, at least I had his contact info already, right?

Over the weekend, relaxation remained out of my reach. I couldn’t unwind for more than a minute before thoughts and worries about David would come rushing back and have me tensing and paranoid all over again.

On Sunday morning, I hoped that going into town and grabbing a few things at the food mart would preoccupy me from the constant anxiety. It didn’t, not when the entire drive there had me roving my gaze all over, trying to spot David watching me.

At the mart, I had further bad luck in finding Ashley manning the register.

I tried my best not to make eye contact. Like an impersonal robot, detached and moving by autopilot, I set my few essentials on the narrow conveyor belt.

Too soon, she spoke.

“Why’d you come back here?” she asked.

It was a stupid sense of déjà vu to when I first returned. What business is it of yours?

“To get attention or something?”

I almost laughed. Try the opposite, Ashley. The supreme opposite.

“Because it’s kind of pathetic that you just waltzing back in town—all because you couldn’t manage life in the big city—gets these men asking around about you.”

I jerked my head up so fast I probably gave myself whiplash. “What?”

She scoffed, ringing up my items. “You heard me.”

“What men?”

She smirked, as if she debated answering me or keeping me wondering.

“What men have been asking about me?” I tried to keep the hysterical edge out of my voice, but it was hard. David had to be. She had to be referring to David. But who else? Was he working with someone? A helper?

“Marty is,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “You get into some kind of trouble or something?”

Fuck.

Anger swarmed within me, coursing through my veins. For once, I wasn’t angry at her, but at that cop. At Roarke for ever getting the law enforcement involved.

“Are you?” Ashley asked as I jammed my card into the card reader.

“No,” I bit out. I was in trouble, on the run for the rest of my life from a narcissist, abusive asshole of an ex. But she was implying something else. That I’d done something to be in trouble.

Nope. All I’ve done was trust the wrong person when help was offered.

“Who else has been asking about me?” I asked as I grabbed my bags.

She narrowed her eyes, getting sassy. Then she shrugged. “I don’t know.”

You don’t know as in you don’t know who David is or you don’t know as in you’re trying to keep information I want to know from me?

Either way, it didn’t matter. I knew David would be looking for me. Even if he’d found the cabin I was renting, he’d want to glean all the details he could about me to most accurately track me and make me sweat.

I left, not bothering to try to get anything else from her. She wouldn’t tell me anything if I seemed too desperate to know.

As I hurried to my car, keeping an eye out for David, for Marty, too, I fumed and let my frustration scale higher and hotter.

All I wanted was to keep to myself. That was my goal when I was younger, and now, I wanted the same. To be left alone to live my life. Not to have nosy people in town poking into my business. I didn’t have a record to hide. I’d done nothing wrong. But the more interest that was shared about me, the more David could get to me.

“You just had to get into my business, huh?” I muttered as I drove out of town.

If Roarke hadn’t asked Marty to talk to me, I doubted I’d be in the cop’s focus at all.

“We have one little casual...incident, and you think that gives you a right to butt into my life?” I growled, talking aloud almost in a rehearsal.

“You think you can sic the cops on me, have people talking about me?” I whispered, firing up to blast these questions at Roarke.

I headed directly to his cabin, letting every bump and rattle in the rough path back there keep me alert and primed to tell him off.

If he thought he could take it upon himself to help launch a damn investigation about me, he had another thing coming.

I narrowed my eyes, tightening my grip on the steering wheel as I drove.

And for once, something other than fear ruled me.

I just hated the sliver of excitement that tingled beneath the surface of my anger.

Because looking forward to seeing Roarke was not something I needed in my life at this moment.