To Have Page 22

  The company’s project load was picking up thankfully, so it didn’t feel like all of this was for naught. Someone would win—but that someone wasn’t me. Now, if Caz would keep his end of the bargain and pay off Ferris Lord, I could rest a little better at night, knowing Kasen Construction was safe along with my parents' finances and the jobs of the men employed. Sacrifice takes many forms, and although I wasn’t prepared for some of the ones I had had to make along the way these three months, I was satisfied knowing that only one sheep had to be slaughtered to save the rest of the flock.

  Caz had insisted he be given a key to my apartment, part of the ruse to make our relationship look more “official,” with him coming and going at random. I pretended to agree just like I pretended I didn’t notice the lipstick stains on his shirt collars, and I pretended that purple and yellow weren’t becoming a more common skin tone on me than my own. To his credit, he marked me in places that were easily hidden with clothing, so at least I could teach my dance classes and keep them veiled under layers of spandex. This last one, however, was made in a drunken rage and one I earned around my neck because I had kept him waiting too long at the door when he forgot his key and came over for dinner. The neighbors thought the banging on the walls were us in the throes of passion, but it was mostly just me being thrown against the wall because I had done something to “embarrass” him. I had agreed to give him my freedom. I just didn’t realize I had given him free rein to unleash the monster lurking within that finely polished exterior.

  Appearances weren’t just deceiving; sometimes they were just outright lying.

  I was about town, running some errands and constantly tugging at the scarf I had on, trying to keep it from slipping too low. A high neckline was too hot for this late summer heat, so a lightweight scarf was the next best choice. The farmer’s market was teeming with multitudes of harvest finds, so I decided to pick up some fresh fruit and vegetables for dinner tonight. I relished my time here each week because it was a place where I actually got to have a choice, even if it was just squash or green beans—or maybe both.

  I mindlessly wandered around the salad section, admiring the varieties of leafy greens, when suddenly, my right shoulder collided with the back of another browser. Her bags fell to the floor as did mine, and I bent over to gather up the fragile fruits of someone’s hard labor. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Charlotte.”

  I looked up and met a pair of familiar eyes, eyes that were the color of caramel and betrayal. Nikki looked shocked to see me, no more than I was with her. I couldn’t bring myself to say her name because every time I thought about it, it planted the picture of her kissing—

  “This belongs to you.” I handed her the peach that had rolled into my finds and bent down to grab the purse that I’d set down to go on a wild fruit chase.

  “Charlotte...I…”

  I couldn’t find it in myself to curse at her like I wanted, and I didn’t want everyone standing around to witness me slap my former best friend—Lord knows, that news would make its way back to Mom and Dad before I could. So, I did the next best thing: I left.

  “Wait! Please!”

  My speed walking was no match for her long-legged strides, and she quickly surpassed me and stopped me in my tracks. This was painful. Talking to a girl that three months ago, I couldn’t have imagined going a day without talking to in some capacity.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  She apparently had plenty to say, whereas I did not. “No, you really don’t. Please move.” When she didn’t, I side-stepped her and started my trek back to my car, her grabbing my elbow. “Don’t touch me,” I spat at her.

  “You need to hear this.”

  I pulled my arm from her grasp, wincing at the bruise on my arm she inadvertently touched. I swung around, knocking a zucchini from my hand to the ground. “What? What do I need to know, Nikki? That you’re a liar and a backstabber? Because I already know that.”

  “No, please! Listen to me,” She begged, her eyes tearing up.

  “What could you possibly have to tell me?”

  Her bottom lip wobbled. “It wasn’t his fault.”

  The breath I could swear I had a moment ago evaporated into nothingness.

  “It wasn’t—Deacon didn’t do anything wrong.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Then, your definition of right and wrong is very different from mine.”

  “Please! You can keep hating me, but don’t be mad at him.”

  “Did he put you up to this?” I couldn’t figure out where she was going with all this.

  “No, I just…you wouldn’t return my calls.” Or emails. Or voice messages. Or DMs. But who’s keeping track?

  “Can you blame me?”

  She bowed her head and shook it. “You have every right to hate me, but please don’t take it out on him. I was the one who kissed him, not the other way around. He hasn’t spoken to me since that day either.” She flinched slightly. “He was so angry at me after you left. He looked so hurt.”

  “Why did you do it, then?”

  “I just…I wanted to…”

  “Years, Nikki. Years. I pined after him for years. All the while, you were plotting behind my back.”

  “No, I didn’t! I promise.”

  “Then, why? Why now? Why him?” My questions chased by the dramatic swings of my bag.

  “I thought he was the one that had been doing all those nice things for me over the years.”

  This again. Curse you, Grey! “Why would you think that?”

  “It was something he said at the cookout. I mistook his words and thought he meant himself.”

  “What did he say?”

  She stood there and gave me the short and sweet of the conversation she had had with Deacon while I was talking with some of the men’s wives. I could see how she had gotten his words twisted up with her own, but I also knew why Deacon wouldn’t come out and say who the real culprit was.

  “So, why did you kiss him?”

  “Because I’m so tired of being alone. You had told me you didn’t want to see him again, and he had been in town a while, and you never mentioned him, so I thought…”

  “You take a chance?”

  She shook her head. “But it was only because I thought he was the one that had been my benefactor all these years. I thought it meant that he cared about me, and I wondered if...maybe…”

  “The person who did all those things for you does care for you.” Or at least he did. “But you’ve not been paying attention, Nikki. Not really.”

  “Do you know who—?”

  “That’s not my secret to tell. However, if you really want to know, you need to think back to the beginning of who’s always bent over backward for you, no matter what you needed.”

  She seemed deep in thought, mulling over the possibilities when there was only one clear choice. “I have to go. Good luck with everything.”

  “Charlotte?” Her tentative tone contrasted with the blatant widening of her eyes. “Why is there a bruise around your neck?”

  I looked down and flushed, embarrassed that I had forgotten to check my scarf. I quickly adjusted it back in place. “It’s nothing.”

  She looked like she was getting ready to say more, but I had had my fill at the moment.

  “I have to get back. Take care of yourself, Nikki.”

  Satin wrapped ankles and a new black leotard ready to be broken in, I walked with purpose away from the mirrored wall to the phone docking station and located my favorite playlist. My body was tense with the strain of my personal woes and the revelations of this morning. I needed the release that only a good dance session could grant. I craved to forget everything that had gone wrong and revel in the memory of all that was once right. As I thumbed through my modern classical collection, my favorite Lindsey Stirling song scrolled into view. I couldn’t help but smile sadly at the title because I knew exactly how that caged bird felt.

  I took the
first position and prepared to fly. There may not be many things I had control of in my world anymore, but this was my sanctum, where my spirit was free to soar. I looked in the mirror and admired my red pointe shoes. They were an Elsie choice for certain—one I’m glad I let her talk me into. Sugar, sometimes a lady needs to put on some red and remind the world again who’s in charge. In my mind, as I stood in a vacant studio with only the music to guide my soul and me to sing, I let her kind voice bring me back to happier times and a more content Charlotte.

  Why do you dance, Charlotte?

  Because it makes me feel alive.

  The music moved into the bridge and began to fill my veins with harmony. Bass up, inhibitions down. Lifting myself up onto my pointes, I let go of what stagnated my soul and began to dance.

  I danced for all the things I wanted to say, for all the things I couldn’t. I danced for all the things I didn’t know how to say and for all the things I did. Every turn felt like I was sloughing off an old skin, letting the new breakthrough. Toes down, chin up. Every moment on spent on my toes reminded me that pain is temporary but sometimes necessary to grow. Pain that ached all the way to my marrow no longer held me back—instead, it gave my movement purpose.

  Why do you dance, Charlotte?

  Because I need it to breathe.

  I had spent the last few years teaching others to let themselves go, to enjoy the rush that came with performing, even if it was for an audience of none. I had taught them, yet somewhere along the line, I had forgotten to enjoy that liberation myself. Stretching my body to take in the experience of moving without care, my lungs took the opportunity to breathe in enjoyment instead of obligation. Deep breaths as I moved across the floor. Your body only cages you if your mind does. Set them both free. In, out. In, out. In. Out.

  Why do you dance, Charlotte?

  Because it’s the only time I feel free.

  The thin white skirt fluttered around my hips as I moved from position to position. My bare arms sliced through the air as I spun around, giving me balance and letting me see that the bars were no longer there to hold me back. My reflection in the mirrored walls was not one of bruises and brokenness. It was one of a girl soldered together whole—a collection of shattered remains made into something more. I knew that the world awaited me outside, with every obligation I was tethered to, every anchor that weighed me down. I knew the shackles were open and ready for sentencing, but for just a moment in time, my new reality no longer mattered and neither did the burdens yoked on my shoulders. The worries would still be there when I left these walls, but this bird needed a pardon from her cage.

  So, for one peaceful hour, I left my pain behind, spread my wings, and I flew.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Deacon

  I looked around the crowded coffee shop at all the hipsters drinking their $5 coffees and some college kid with a soul patch and designer duds pontificating on life’s great mysteries to a table of people of equally…interesting-looking people. Like a 20-year-old trust fund baby knows anything about solving the world’s problems. Good luck with that, kid. I scanned the room for a familiar face and when I found her brown eyes, I could see the panic in them.

  I had refused to speak to Nikki, still angry at the way she had betrayed Charlotte, and put a knife in mine and Grey’s backs. But, the text message I received this afternoon was one that I couldn’t ignore.

  I think Charlotte might be in serious trouble.

  I strode across the room with purpose and a pissed-off vibe, letting any random passerby know I was not in the mood to be Mr. Manners, and they better get out of my way. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Charlotte.”

  “I got that much from your message. What about her?”

  She looked down at her cup of coffee like she was trying to find the right words to say what she had to say in the bottom of the mug.

  Fuck mincing words. “What the fuck is going on, Nikki?”

  She was starting to tear up, and I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer. “I saw her this morning. She had a bruise…around her neck.”

  I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘around her neck’?”

  “She had on a scarf, but it slipped when we were talking. It was a handprint. I’m sure of it.”

  Sonavubitch. My fists clenched tighter. Every vile thing I could think of to do to that asshole Caz Arlington was running on loop in my mind. The men had hinted at work that they were officially a thing, but I couldn’t believe Charlotte would fall for someone like him. She fell for someone like you at one time too. I couldn’t decide if I needed to throw up or kill someone. I was leaning more towards the latter.

  “She had tried to cover it up when I said something. I thought I saw her wince when I grabbed her elbow to get her to talk with me, so there might be more I didn’t see.”

  Oh yeah, this fucker was going to die.

  “I thought she wasn’t speaking to either of us?” I wanted to make sure she heard the accusation loud and clear: Why did you get to and not me?

  “I ran into her. She wanted to run away, but I had to tell her the truth.”

  “Which was?”

  “That what…happened that day was completely my fault, not yours.”

  “I think it’s a little too late for that, Nikki.”

  “When I told her, it was like there was this spark. Like it was what she needed to hear.”

  I had to find her. To make sure she’s safe. To let her know she will not be anyone’s punching bag. And then? Then, I’m going to find that bastard Caz Arlington and bury him six feet under Earth’s fucking mantle.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I said curtly, scrolling to find the number for the police precinct.

  “I’m sorry…”

  “For what?”

  “For kissing you. When we talked at the cookout, I thought—I thought you meant it was you.”

  I stood there, still perplexed. “Nikki, I don’t know how you came to the conclusion that all that stuff in the past was me.”

  “You were the one who beat up Beck in high school because he bullied me.”

  “I didn’t beat him up.”

  “But, I saw you throwing him outside the school after he made fun of me.”

  “Oh, I did do that, but Grey was the one who gave that asshole the beating he deserved.”

  Confusion marred her face for a moment, then clarity seemed to take its place. “It was Grey?”

  “Yeah… He made us promise not to tell you, but I thought maybe Charlotte had let it slip at some point. I had to drag him out because Mason and Aidan were too busy holding Grey back. I’ve got to say, I’ve never Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky so pissed. I was pretty sure he was going to kill the bastard, so I tried to keep him from getting into a shitstorm of trouble. Still lost his damn baseball scholarship over it, though.”

  Her eyes opened wide, and it was like she was seeing things as they really were for the first time. “I just don’t understand… Why would he do that?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “I think you need to find him and have a long talk.”

  I walked out of the coffee shop, a head full of rage, and a heart full of sorrow. Why the hell would she stay with an asshole like that? I dialed the police station and told them I had an emergency. A few moments of silence got me from the coffee shop door to my truck. I climbed in and slammed the door, firing up the old engine. I had pulled out into traffic when I heard a rustle of fabric and a low-pitched voice resound through my cellphone speaker. “Kasen.”

  “It’s Deacon. We need to talk.”

  Charlotte

  The short drive back to the apartment was quiet, save for the rushing tides of thought and emotion sweeping over me. Was she telling me the truth? The story lined up with him chasing me out to the car when I saw them, but there were so many questions to be answered. I had blocked him on social media and refused his calls and texts, bu
t his letters. Maybe there was something in them that told the rest of the story I had refused to hear.

  I laid my farmer’s market finds on the counter and dumped my bag alongside it all. My trash box of overread romance novels and unread letters sat with the corner sticking out from under the bed. I slid it out and grabbed the piles of letters. Fanning them out on the kitchen table, I looked at the dates, trying to organize them by date received, hoping they would tell me a story.

  I opened them one by one and began to pour over the words I had longed to hear for years. Apologies for pushing me away, regrets from staying away when he should have been fighting for me, things he wishes he would have said before everything went up in smoke. All of his beautiful words laid bare before my eyes, tears staining the pages and smudging the ink that had relayed his precious words to me. He didn’t betray me. I buried my head in the crook of my arm and let out the tears that I thought no longer existed. It was everything I had ever wanted. Only now, I would never have it because I had promised away my future to save my family from ruin. Caz would never let me out of this agreement, and he and Ferris Lord would revel in destroying everything my family worked so hard to build if I tried to back out.

  Despair crept around the edges of my heart and flooded into the aching crevices, filling me with the sad realization that all my hopes for happiness with the man I loved would now and forever only exist in my dreams. So many questions have plagued my mind about him the last three months made room for only one more, this time directed at me.

  What have I done?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Charlotte

  I had sat there with those letters for an hour, unable to stop reading them. How did I get it so wrong? The sound of a key turned in my door woke me from my trance and fear seized me. Caz. These letters. I scurried to gather them all up, knowing that love letters from another man would send him into a rage again. I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, so when I turned around to get them back to my room, the pieces of emotional parchment fluttered to the ground as I ran into the man I had dreaded discovering them. He steadied me with his hands, holding me in place. “What’s all this?”