The Quietest Shop on Main (Shops on Main #3)

Chapter 26

26

S kyla couldn’t bring herself to park in the alley, even though it was broad daylight. Instead, she parked on the street and stared at her bookstore. The one she’d always wanted to make more than a part-time gig.

The store she grew up in, dreamed up her book in…a place she had always felt safe.

Until now.

Swallowing hard, Skyla looked around. The streets were nearly empty. The winter wind enough to keep even the most dedicated of shoppers indoors this afternoon. She’d only been released from the hospital this morning, and Skyla was still trying to catch her breath.

Grandpa was home sleeping.

He was bruised and angry, but fine.

Skyla had barely had a chance to speak to him, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to either. Analiese’s words were still echoing through her head, and Skyla had been betrayed nearly as much as Dalton had.

They’d been allowed home at the same time, and Grandpa had immediately gone to bed. Then Grady had called and asked Skyla if she was up for going through the robbery.

Robbery.

Skyla shivered and pulled her coat tighter around her. She was still trying to process that. She had no idea what had been stolen, nor did she know what kind of state her shop was in. Had the boys destroyed it? Had they simply taken a few books and left?

The words they’d been speaking while Skyla was supposed to be unconscious were only bits and pieces in her muddled memory, though Skyla had tried to recall them word for word.

She figured Grady could use them, but Skyla’s brain was so overloaded with pain and betrayal that she couldn’t seem to get a clear sense of it all.

A police car pulled into the alley, and Skyla perked up. That had to be Grady. She waited to see him come to the front before getting out of her car.

“Hey,” Grady said with a sad smile. He studied her face. “You look…”

“Like I lost a fight with a bookshelf?” Skyla suggested, trying to chuckle, but the sound was strained. She was so tired of pretending to be something she wasn’t.

She wasn’t fine. She wasn’t okay. She wasn’t happy or optimistic or even coping.

She was broken, sore, exhausted, and in so much pain, she couldn’t think. And it wasn’t just the bruising on her face and limbs. Her heart, brain, and body were barely functioning. And she was tired of saying otherwise.

Poor Grady didn’t need all that dumped on him, however, so Skyla tried…but she knew her performance was definitely lacking.

“That’s one way to put it,” Grady said with a sigh. He pushed a gloved hand through his hair. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. I’m sorry to call you out here, but I thought we could kill two birds with one stone. You need to see the store, and I need your statement.”

Skyla nodded, pain still thumping in the back of her head. “I understand. And I appreciate it. I’m sorry that I’m out of sorts.”

He shrugged and waved a hand toward the door. “We locked up when we pulled you out. The key was put with your belongings.”

Skyla held it up. She’d discovered it this morning when she left the hospital. A quick glance told her the front window hadn’t been broken. That was something, at least.

“I was here to do some work after hours,” she began softly, using the words to hide the trembling of her fingers as she unlocked the door. “The door was unlocked, but I’ve been so stressed, I assumed I had simply forgotten when I left for the night.”

Skyla pushed the door open, the hinges squeaking slightly.

Book-filled air met her face, but her feet wouldn’t move. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the scent of paper, ink, dust, and the tiniest hint of evergreen forest. Her holiday candle was doing its job.

She knew this place.

Skyla opened her eyes, determination settling in her gut. She refused to let anyone take it from her. She’d lost too much in the last few days to lose this as well.

“Do you?—”

Skyla shook her head and took a step forward, trusting Grady to follow. Her knees might be knocking, but this shop was the only thing she had control over at the moment and Skyla wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“It was dark inside,” she continued, her voice a whisper. “I paused to listen, double checking that everything was fine, but I didn’t hear anything.” She took another step. “I started across the room, planning to turn on the lights in the back, so I didn’t disturb any of the neighbors, but as I can around this corner…”

She trailed off as she came up to the bookcase she’d been at when the boys hit her. Books were scattered all over the floor, shoved back as if the emergency workers had been the ones to move them. Dried mud and bits of leaves and debris had left footprints, along with a few wheel skids against the hardwood.

“They hit me in the dark,” Skyla continued, swallowing again. “The force knocked me into the bookshelf, and I was unconscious by the time I hit the ground.”

A hand landed on her shoulder, and Skyla was trembling from head to toe.

“It’s going to be okay,” Grady said in a soothing tone. He squeezed her shoulder. “We’re gonna work this out.”

It’s going to be okay…

Dalton used to say that.

And look at how things had turned out.

Skyla cleared her throat and stepped over the dirt and books, moving farther into the shop. “When I woke up, they were talking about grabbing something.” She scrunched her nose. “A camera, maybe? They said something about being in trouble for hitting me, and they needed to leave.”

Grady stepped past Skyla when she reached the open area with seats and readings nooks.

Skyla came to his side and gasped. The reading area was a disaster, as if a hurricane had barreled through. Books were everywhere, lamps smashed, pillows and blankets tossed in every direction, and most of her furniture knocked on its side.

The only thing still standing, funny enough, was the Christmas tree in the corner.

At least Dalton’s sacrifice hadn’t been ruined.

An inappropriate giggle rose in her throat, and Skyla swallowed it down while putting her clammy fingers over her lips.

How were they going to recover from this?

“I’m going to guess you can’t tell me what’s missing?” Grady said, his tone harsh and low.

Skyla shook her head. “Not at the moment.” She tried to make her lungs work, but it was hard. “I’ll have to go through our inventory list for the books, and put the decor back to see what isn’t there.”

Grady took in a long breath through his nose and nodded slowly. “Understandable.” He looked around. “I’m sorry to add that to your to-do list, but the faster the better.” He sighed. “Plus, you can’t start yet. I need to get my team over here to take pictures and evidence.” His dark brown eyes were full of sympathy when he turned them to Skyla. “You’ll need to stay closed for a few days, I’m afraid.”

The weight of her life tripled in a matter of moments.

Christmas was two weeks away.

Grandpa was hurt.

She was hurt.

Dalton and Analiese were gone.

Her shop was all but destroyed.

Who would do this?

Grady made some notes on his phone, then shoved it in a pocket. “I’ll check the door on my way out. See if I can figure out how they got in. Might want to upgrade to an electric security system.”

Skyla nodded.

Grady rocked on his heels, looking at her from under his eyelashes. “While we wait for my team, and setting aside my job as an officer…is there anything I can do for you as a friend?” He gave her a sad smile when she looked at him. “You look like you need a friend.”

Her smile faltered, then fell. “I do need a friend,” she whispered hoarsely. “Thank you…but I don’t think there’s anything you can do to fix this.”

Today had been the worst day of Dalton’s life.

Well…maybe the second worst.

The worst day was Skyla telling him to get out.

The second, was spending an entire day without her, all while knowing that she needed his help.

The boat jolted as they came into dock, and Dalton grimaced at how amateurish that had been. He was better than that.

But he really didn’t care.

The afternoon tour had been slow and long, and Dalton’s mind had been everywhere but on fishing. Mother Ocean’s normally soothing waves, mist, and smells did nothing for him today.

Dalton knew what heartbreak was. He’d experienced it on behalf of his sister a couple years ago.

Now he knew what it was to be shattered.

He felt as if his heart was only functioning to keep him alive. There was a hole in his chest that ached in a way he’d never truly experienced before.

What was he going to do?

Every part of him wanted to rush over, to hold her, wipe the tears off her cheeks and take care of her every need.

But he couldn’t.

She was hurt and angry, and Analiese had turned the wedge between them into a canyon.

How was Dalton supposed to fix that?

Instead of waving goodbye to his patrons, Dalton stayed in the wheelhouse. He didn’t have it in him to smile and wave as if nothing were wrong. Today, he was playing the part of grumpy sea captain to a T . All he needed was the long, bushy beard to make it official…and maybe a few missing fingers or a wooden leg.

He grunted a laugh at the thought, then frowned when his phone went off.

Sighing, he pulled it out of his deep pocket and fumbled for a second before seeing who was calling.

Montoya.

Dalton closed his eyes, unsure if he had the strength to answer. But Grady had been at the hospital not because of Skyla, but because of the break in. Maybe Dalton should see what was going on.

“Hello?” Dalton muttered.

“Dalton? That you? You sound terrible.”

Dalton rolled his eyes. “Hey, Montoya. What do you need?”

“Where are you right now?” Grady pressed.

“On my boat. We just pulled into the marina.”

“Do you have another tour tonight?” Grady continued.

Dalton pushed his hand through his hair, knocking his hat askew. “What’s going on?” he asked, growing suspicious. “Is something wrong?”

“I guess I’m trying to see how important your girlfriend is to you,” Montoya snapped.

Dalton froze.

“My team just finished processing her shop, but it’s a huge mess. I’ve called everyone I know from the neighborhood watch and they’re going to start coming over as soon as they can, but…it’s a job, Dalton. She needs help.” Montoya cleared his throat. “Between you and me she needs more than help cleaning up the shop. I’ve never seen Skyla so beat up and sad, and I’m not just talking about her black eye. She looks ready to sit down and call it quits.”

Dalton scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t think she’s going to want me there.” The words felt like knives against his tongue. He wanted to punch something. It was so wrong. Why wouldn’t she let him help? Why did she have to push him away when all he wanted to do was help?

Montoya grumbled something Dalton couldn’t understand. In fact, from the tones being used, Dalton figured he probably didn’t want to understand. “You know, Saunders…I’ve dealt with a lot of crap in my life as an officer.”

Dalton knew the start of a lecture when he heard one.

“I left California for this exact reason. I got tired of it all. The jerks, the narcissists, the entitled, the addicts… For some stupid reason, I was positive that moving to a smaller town would help my career quiet down, allow me a chance to breathe clean air instead of the stink I was currently in.”

Dalton closed his eyes, his guilt kicking his gut.

“Instead, I’m facing a group of teenage punks, who have targeted some of the nicest people I know. I can’t find them. I can’t figure out what they’re doing or how they’re going to strike next. For the first time in my life, I can’t protect the people who need it most.” Grady blew out a long breath. “And Skyla is more deserving than most. If I didn’t already have my sights set on someone else, I’d be the one coming to play hero.”

Dalton stiffened and jealousy instantly pooled in his stomach and Dalton leaned over, gasping for air at the intensity of it.

“But even if I came…she doesn’t want me,” Grady continued, the harsh tones of his voice easing a little. “She wants you, Dalton. And I’m not willing to let you let her down.”

“I don’t want to let her down,” Dalton growled back. “Do you really think I want to stand by and do nothing?” He stood, still feeling sick and began to pace the small cabin. “I didn’t want to leave in the first place, but Skyla kicked me out. She cared more about her grandfather than herself, and the fact that I came to see her, leaving John to the nurses was enough to have her unable to even look at my face.”

“So what?” Grady argued back. “She was hurt. She was facing the unknown. The woman had just been traumatized, for heaven’s sake. Every time she came to, she asked for you. YOU! Her grandfather was mentioned second. She always wanted you. ” Grady let out a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t really tell me that you’re going to let one small argument push you away? You’ll never make it in any relationship if that’s all it’s going to take, Dalt.”

Dalton frowned at the use of Analiese’s nickname. What was it Grady said a second ago? That his attention was…Dalton shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to go off on a wild tangent. He needed to focus. He could think about those possibilities later.

“I’m telling you though…if you won’t step up…I will.”

The words had Dalton freezing again.

“Skyla is a hidden gem in this town, and I won’t let her be alone in this.” Grady finished, and the only sound on the line was Dalton’s wheezing.

“If we were ever friends,” Dalton slowly ground out. “Then you won’t touch her.”

“Then quit licking your wounds and man up,” Grady shot back. “This whole thing is a dumpster fire, but someone has to take the first step and from what I’ve seen, Skyla doesn’t have the energy to do it, even if she wanted to.”

Dalton rubbed his forehead. Too much of what Grady said was the truth, and it sat heavy on Dalton’s chest. Why was he holding back like this? They hadn’t actually broken up, so what was keeping Dalton from going back?

He took a long, slow breath through his nose. He’d spent so much time trying to save Skyla and having her shove him away felt like a personal attack.

Rejection stung, and the officer was right. Dalton had been licking his wounds. Wounds that were far smaller than Skyla’s. She’s just been attacked, her grandfather had fallen, and now the shop was a mess from the break-in.

What was he doing?

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Dalton finally muttered. He didn’t even bother to wait for Grady’s response. Shoving the phone back in his pocket, he pulled his hat back down over his head and turned to go.

Skyla might still be angry. She could still tell him to get lost, but Dalton had made up his mind. If he couldn’t handle something like this, then he didn’t deserve her. He’d thought life was so perfect with her, but the first major bump in the road had sent him into hiding.

No more. She needed help. He was going to be there no matter what.

End of story.