Back Where We Belong (A Second Chances New Adult Romance) (11 page)

The gallery is busy on Saturday.
I'm going to rush home and get ready for my date with Luke. I'm determined to
get over my past. Michelle has suggested a therapist and insists on paying for
it, her gift “to make sure those bastards don't get the upper hand.” I'm going
to work through everything that happened. But first I'm going to enjoy tonight.

When I get home, I see a Maserati
parked in the drive. So Luke thought that would impress my mother more than a
Ferrari! I wonder how many cars he has and what he is doing here so early.
Damn! I wanted to take a shower and put on something nice before he arrived.

Mom meets me in the hall. “An old
friend came to visit.”

It's amazing what a change of
wheels can do for her attitude.

“I'm just putting on some
coffee,” she says. So Luke gets the visitor treatment now, does he? Typical of
my mother to fawn over someone just because he has money.

But it's Brad sitting there in
the lounge, not Luke, when I rush in, all smiles. I stop short. I think my
heart might stop too.

“Hi Madison.” I can see my
distress amuses him by the smug look on his face. “I was just in the area and
phoned to see if you wanted to come out for a drink for old time’s sake. Your
mom invited me over. Didn't you tell her about how close we were in those
days?”

I find the strength to say, “I'm
not going anywhere with you.”

“How impolite when an old friend
takes the trouble to look you up, especially a friend you were once so intimate
with.” He smirks.

The look on his face curdles my
blood.

“We were never close. Just
leave.” I can feel my legs shaking.

“What if I’m not ready to go yet?
Perhaps your mom would like to hear how much fun we had in college, how you
enjoyed two men in one night, how much of a whore you can be in the heat of the
moment.”

My voice sticks in my throat.
He's playing with me. He's enjoying my torment.

“Get out! And don't come back.”

“Oh, I'll go all right. But not
forever. I'll be around now I know where you are. I forgot all about you until
the other day at my uncle's old place. How could I forget how much fun you were
to play with?”

“Thanks for the offer of coffee,
Mrs. Collins,” he calls to my mother as he opens the door. “Something came up,
and I have to rush off. Another time.”

My legs are shaking. I slump into
the chair as he leaves.

“Pity he had to go. Nice boy!”
Mom pats her hair. No doubt he was very charming to her when he talked his way
in.

She doesn't even notice the
effect he had on me. I run off and throw up in the bathroom.

I hardly know which way to turn.
I can't sit still. I pace around my room. I know I've got to get out of there.
Brad can find me at home any time he likes. He might just be waiting to get me
alone. And it's not just his words, his voice that I fear.

I know now I'll never be free of
the past. Things will never be right with Luke. I have to let him know, let him
down gently. But first I have to get out of here. Where can I go? Does Brad
know where I work too? I don't know, but I'm not going there. I'll have to let
Michelle know what happened once I'm safe.

Safe? Will I ever be safe again?

I park my Ferrari in Madison's
drive and ring her door bell. When her witch mother answers the door, I'm
almost pleased because that means she'll definitely see my car. I have an
armful of flowers. I think I made the florist happy with my order.

“It's you,” she says, without
inviting me in. “You've got a nerve. Every time you turn up, there's trouble.”

I'm just going to ignore her.
There's no point getting into an argument.

“Is Madison ready?” I ask.

“She's not here. Some guy from
college called around for her, waited until she came home from work. Next thing
I knew, she drove off. Didn't say a word.”

“What? She's gone? She didn't say
when she'd be back?”

“You heard me right the first
time. No doubt you had something to do with it. She couldn't get out of here
fast enough. She obviously doesn't want to see you.” She shuts the door in my
face.

***

I know there's something going on
with Madison. She's still nervous and jumpy with me, but I didn't expect her to
run off. I sent her a text yesterday saying I was looking forward to seeing
her, and she answered “me too x”. It didn't sound like she was going to let me
turn up at her door and not be there.

I throw the flowers in the
passenger seat, get in the car and call her. No answer. I've no idea what's
going on. No idea at all. Some guy called for her? Which guy? She didn't give
me the impression she was interested in another guy. Is she running from me?
Why the fuck would she do that? Where would she go?

I check the art gallery. But it's
not open. No special exhibitions tonight.

I drive around and around the
streets but I don't see her. I'm worried. Has she just gone off with another
guy and forgotten she had a date with me? But that doesn't add up. Not with how
she was with me when I left her at the gallery on Tuesday. Is she in some kind
of trouble? If she is, I don't know what to do about it. And I don't like how
powerless that feels. I'm the one who's always in control.

My phone beeps. It’s a message.
“Sorry I missed our date. I had to go. Better if you don't try to find me.
Easier that way. Madison.”

Easier that way? Easier for who?
It sounds like she really is in some kind of trouble. But if not, what the fuck
is going on? She's messing with my head again. And she's damn well going to
tell me why. I'm not waiting another five years for a fucking explanation.

I know I should go back to the
city and get on with some work. But fuck if I'll be able to work tonight after
this. I think about going to Silver Point. I'm already halfway there. I know my
family will be pleased to see me if I visit, and the chaos back home will take
my mind off Madison.

I should surprise Mom, stay the
night for once. Easy enough to drive back in the morning. The gallery will be
open then for the weekend visitors. Maybe Madison will show up at work.

***

As I drive past Sandy Cove, I
can't help but glance over at Madison's beach house. I always do that when I go
back home. There's usually nothing to see. It's just a house. A house that
means something to me. Tonight there are lights on and I know there's someone
there. Maybe they let it for the summer. But I never saw lights before. And maybe,
just maybe, it's Madison.

I call her but she doesn't pick
up her phone. Is she in there? Is she in there with someone?

I know I might regret trying to
find out, but I have to know.

No one has been to the beach
house for years. I don't know why Mom and Dad didn't sell it as part of the
divorce settlement. Mom got to keep it, as well as the house. But Dad's got
such huge business assets, I guess it wouldn't make much difference to him.
Maybe he felt guilty about selling it. Mom's the one who always wanted a second
house.

I set about turning the power and
water on. The furniture can stay covered up. I don't know how long I'll be
here. I didn't think beyond tonight when I grabbed the keys on my way out.

I should have stopped to get food
or something. I'm not hungry but I'll have to eat eventually. And the water
comes out brown at first. I let it run for a while until it goes clear and take
a drink.

I'm feeling a bit calmer, now I'm
here. I know I need to make plans. I just don't know where to start. I wonder
about going to the police. But what good would that do? Would they believe me
any more than they would have all those years ago? And Brad (I shudder at his
name) hasn't even touched me since I saw him again. How is it that he can affect
me so much without even touching me? But I know how. He reminds me of how
powerless I was then. How powerless I still am, even now.

When my phone beeps, I guess it's
Luke calling me, but I can't speak to him. I can hardly think, never mind
speak. I know that message I sent him isn't enough. He deserves more than the
explanation I gave him. But it's all hopeless. What explanation would I give? I
don't want to talk to him about college.

The next thing I know, the
doorbell rings. My heart pounds. There's no way I'm answering that, whoever it
is, like some too-stupid-to-live woman wondering who's out there in a horror
movie.

No one knows I'm here, though
Jill may have noticed someone was in the house. It may be her, but I'm still
not opening the door. I'll go and see her tomorrow. I call her sometimes and
she sends me pictures of Ben and his new little sister Sophie.

There's an almighty crash then. A
huge brick lands in the center of the rug in the lounge.

“Open the fucking door, bitch,”
Brad shouts, “or you'll be sorry.”

And then I know he's followed me
and now I'm not just worried he's going to get me, that he wants to frighten me
for whatever sick reasons he has. Now I think he's really crazy, and he's going
to kill me.

Brad is kicking down the door
with such force, I know he's out of his mind. I scramble about looking for my
bag, my phone, but he moves to the window.

“I can see you, bitch, come out of
there. You think you can fucking run away from me?” He's punching out the rest
of the glass, his hand covered by his leather jacket. He's going to get in! I
know he is.

I don't even think when I see
some punk trying to break into the beach house. If Madison's in there, she's in
danger. I'm out of my car and running down to the house before I know it.

Some low-life is screaming at
whoever is inside, breaking glass, trying to get through the window. I pull him
to the ground. He's a big guy, but in his rage he hasn't heard me behind him.
He lands on a load of glass on the deck, but it's the safety kind that shatters
in a million pieces. And he's up, coming back at me.

“Luke!” I hear Madison.

“Call the cops!” I shout, before
I feel the guy's foot at the back of my legs, felling me. I roll away, but he
slams into me again with his boot.

I'm fucking mad myself now, too.
With pain. I strike out with my fists, my elbows, my feet, connecting with that
guy’s face, his gut, anywhere I can reach.

He retaliates. I taste blood but I
don't care. I see red. I hardly feel it. I'm pounding and kicking him. I don't
know when to stop. I'm going to kill the fucker. Before he kills me. Because if
he kills me, he's going to get Madison too.

I can't see what's happening
outside. It’s dark. I hear the crunch of glass, the thuds, the anger as they
tear into each other. I have to call the police, but my legs are rooted to the
spot.

I hear Luke yell in pain and
rage. I have to do something. I have to find my phone but I can't breathe. I
can’t do anything.

Brad is going to kill Luke and then
me. I know it. I force my legs to move and I grab my phone and dial 911, but
before I can speak, I hear Luke yell again in pain, and I’m sure Brad has got
the upper hand. Everything goes black.

Fuck knows what would have
happened to Madison if I hadn't been there in Sandy Cove and seen the lights
that night.

I can handle myself in a fight,
but that guy was out to kill, crazy on drugs, too, I think. Just as well
adrenaline kicked in to save my ass because the cops only arrived after I'd
knocked out that lunatic. It turned out the woman Madison used to babysit for,
Jill, called them. I found Madison crumpled in a heap, out stone cold.

After we finish giving our
statements, a detective drops us back at the beach house.

Madison was interviewed a lot
longer than me. She seems calmer now, but I'm not. What the fuck was that all
about? I nearly died out there on the deck and I don't know anything. The
police told me the guy's name was Brad and all she's told me is that she knew
him at college. I know there's more to it than that, but I can't force her to
talk. She's still in shock. She just keeps gripping my hand in the car as if
she doesn't want to let it go and says nothing. I'm sure she'll tell me once
we're alone.

“Hold me,” she says when we go
inside and the car pulls away. “Just hold me.”

So I do. I hold her, and then I
pull the dust sheet off the couch and sit down on that and pull her to me.

“Tell me what that was all
about.” I need to know.

“Not now,” she says. “Soon. I
don't want to talk about it now.”

She sits on my lap and kisses my
neck as I hold her. With all this going on, she wants to play now of all times?

I want to insist she talks to me,
but her lips are persuading me I can wait until she's ready to talk and maybe
that’s what her game is —to put me off asking.

I kiss her mouth slowly, without
too much pressure. I'm not sure what I'm dealing with here, with Madison in
this state. But she kisses me right back so firmly, it's as if she wants to
obliterate everything that's happened over the past few hours, maybe the past
few years. I don't know.

It's very late, but sleep seems
like the last thing on her mind. The way she's holding me and kissing me, it
feels like she's drowning, and I'm a lifeline she's clinging to. I want to do
what’s right for her, but this doesn’t feel right at all.

“You're okay now,” I say. “It's
okay,” because I don’t know what else to say.

“I'm okay with you,” and I think
she means “but not with anyone else.”

She touches my cheek. “Your poor
face.”

It’s not only my face that’s
sore, but I’ll live with the bruises. What I can’t live with is not knowing why
I have them, why that guy was trying to get in. But I don’t think she’s going
to tell me tonight.

“You want some sleep?” I ask.

“Sleep with me,” she says. “Come
to bed with me. I don't want you to leave me.”

The big bed in her old room is
bare. She gets a sheet and throws it over the mattress.

“Just hold me,” she says. “I'm
sorry. I'm just exhausted.”

“Me too.” I smile at her. I don't
want our first time back together to be like this, hardly able to keep our eyes
open, with this fucking mystery, whatever it is, hanging over us.

She takes off her jeans and gets
in the bed, and I do the same, holding her in my arms under the comforter that
was lying over a chair.

I don't think I'll be able to
sleep, despite being dog tired. All the events of the past day and the
questions I have are buzzing through my mind. I guess I'll just watch over
Madison as she sleeps right there next to me in bed for the first time ever.
But I don't think I last five minutes before my eyes close.

***

And I don't wake up until hours
later. It's still dark, the comforter has been thrown off us both, and Madison
is screaming.