Counting on Cayne (Hallow River Book 1) (10 page)

“Hey, girl!” The diner
was in a mid-morning lull. Cami was wiping down the counter over the pie case.
She eagerly waved me over. I hopped onto one of the stools and looked around
the room. A smattering of customers sat chewing their meals and chatting under
the lazily spinning ceiling fans.

“Seems pretty quiet
today. How is everything going?”

“Quiet is right. It was
boring as hell until you got here.” She scrubbed at a spot on the counter with
her washrag. “I’ve spent the morning listening to clacking dentures.”

A fly buzzed around her
unruly mess of curls. She batted her hands in annoyance and then slapped at the
fly with her washrag when it landed on a napkin dispenser. “It’s like a damn
nature preserve in here.” She dropped the rag onto the counter as the fly buzzed
away.

“So, anything exciting
to report?” I asked. “Did Mr. Pinkles melt into a peach smear on the linoleum? Did
the Times restaurant critic stop by to sample our delectable chicken-fried
steak?”

Cami giggled. “Oh!” she
exclaimed. “There was one thing!” She fished around in her pockets, removing
several pieces of gum and three different tubes of lip gloss.

“Ah. Here it is.” She
held out a page of her notepad that had been torn in half and folded. “This guy
came by asking about you.”

Anxiety crept into my
chest. My heart beat faster.

“Good-looking, probably
in his 40s,” she continued. “Salt and pepper hair. Expensive watch. Seemed
friendly enough. Anyway, he told me his name, but I knew I’d forget it, so I
made him write it down. Here you go.” She held the paper out toward me. “He
said you two go way back. How do you know him? I’ve never seen him around here.
Is he from New York?”

I stared at the paper
like it was a burning coal. I finally took it from her, gingerly pinching it
between my index finger and thumb. I already knew what it would say before I
opened it. Cami blinked expectantly at me. I carefully unfolded the paper.

Granton Langley
, it said in the smooth script that I recognized. He had
the nerve to draw a heart underneath his name. That bastard. My throat felt
like it was about to close. I couldn’t breathe or swallow.

“Did he, um,” I started
to croak out a question once I regained some measure of control over my vocal
chords. “Did he say what he wanted?” I shoved the paper into my dress pocket to
hide my trembling hand.

“No, he didn’t.” A
shadow of concern passed over Cami’s face. She was must have sensed my
discomfort. “Brinley, who is he?” She scrunched her eyebrows together in an
expression of uncertainty.

“Oh, nobody.” I faked a
smile, hoping to appear breezy and nonchalant. “You were right. He’s just
somebody that I knew back in New York. No big deal. I wonder what he’s doing
all the way down here.”

Cami’s forehead
smoothed, the worry lines instantly erased. Her glossy lips curled upwards in a
cheery grin. “How exciting! Well, I told him that you normally work the
afternoon shift. He said that he’d be sure to find you.”

“Great. Thanks, Cami.” I
returned her smile and patted my pocket where the paper rested like a
millstone. “I’m just going to put my stuff in the back and get ready for my
shift.”

She gave a sprightly
nod. I jumped when the front door opened with a tinkle of bells, but relaxed
when it revealed a couple of high school kids playfully pushing each other and
laughing before settling into a corner booth.

Cami rolled her eyes.
“Duty calls,” she said, blowing away a corkscrew curl that had flopped over her
eye. She spun away and crossed the floor to take their order.

I walked past the kitchen
in a daze, scooting past the perpetually nervous Mr. Pinkles in the narrow back
hallway. He gave me a distracted “hello” and continued on his way. I closed
myself in the small bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid with my hands on my
knees, trying to steady my pulse and draw air into my lungs. Blood pounded in
my temples like a drumbeat.

“He’s here,” I whispered
to myself. How could he be here? How did he find me? What was he planning to
do?
My mind reeled through possible scenarios. If his first step was to
instill fear, he was succeeding. That was the purpose of the note. He wanted me
in exactly this position, terrified and shaken.

I hurriedly removed my
phone from my purse and dialed Aunt Lu’s number. No one answered. I let it ring
at least ten times before I hung up. Just as I did so, my phone buzzed with an
incoming text. My stomach twisted when I saw that it was from Granton.

Lovely little town
you have here. Such friendly folks. I especially enjoyed my lunch at the diner.
Looking forward to seeing you soon. ;)

The phone vibrated
again.

I’m sure your new boyfriend
will be excited to meet me too. I have so many interesting things to tell him.

I hurriedly typed out a
text to Cayne.

I need to talk to
you.

I had to tell Cayne the
truth before Granton found him and fed him a pack of vicious lies. One thing I
knew about Granton was that he could be extremely convincing. No one else knew
about his secret self. No one suspected that a monster lurked beneath his
smooth and polished exterior. Everyone took him at face value, as the
sophisticated and charming financier who held the world in the palm of his
hand. I knew better. I had felt the crushing fury of that hand, and I was
determined never to feel it again.

I splashed some water on
my face, dropped my phone into my pocket, took several deep breaths, and
returned to the dining room. Cami spotted me and jogged over.

“I have to get going.
Paper due tomorrow. I always put these things off till the last minute.” She
shrugged. “Oh well. I suppose it won’t be a masterpiece.” She chuckled and set
her notepad and pencil on the counter. Are you all set?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I
managed a thin, closed-lip smile. “Hey, could you do me a favor though? If you
talk to Cayne, can you tell him that I need to speak with him?”

“Absolutely.” The crease
of worry reappeared between her brows. “Brinley, are you sure everything’s
alright? You seem, I don’t know, out of sorts. Did something happen with
Cayne?”

That was a loaded
question. Lots of things had happened with Cayne. I shook my head.
“Everything’s fine. It’s nothing. Good luck with your paper.”

Cami wrapped me in a
sudden hug. The warmth of her body was reassuring. She trotted toward the door.
Her bouncing skirt and lively hop reminded me of the little girl from dance
class. With a final spirited wave, she was gone.

***

The remaining hours of
my shift passed nervously, with alternating bouts of panic and resolution. Each
time fear threatened to overwhelm me, I reminded myself that Hallow River was
my home. Granton had no power here. He did not own me. He could not control me.
I would stand and face him, whatever the consequences. I would not retreat. I
would not let him win.

Customers came and went.
Whenever the bells above the front door tinkled, my heart raced as I expected to
see Granton sauntering through the entrance. He did not come. I presumed that he
wanted to prolong my suspense for maximum effect.

Just before 7:00,
Justine arrived in a swirl of chatter. She wore bright emerald green eyeshadow
and exaggerated cat’s eye liner.

“Brinley! Just the gal I
wanted to see,” she shouted as she crossed the floor toward me. “How goes it?
Look, I know this is short notice, but I was really, really hoping you could do
me a solid and switch shifts tomorrow. I’m driving out to the coast for the
weekend, and it would be great to get an early start. I’ll work the afternoon,
and you work the night. It’ll be great. The night is quiet anyway. Whaddaya
say? I’ll make it up to you. I swear!” She fluttered her heavily coated lashes.

“Yeah, that’s no
problem.” My preoccupied brain was formulating responses without thinking.

“Thank you!” she
squealed. “You rock!” She hugged me. Her tiny body had the light-boned delicacy
of a bird. “So, you outta here?”

I checked the clock over
the register. It was only minutes before 7:00. Cayne had not responded to the
several texts I’d sent him over the course of the day. I’d tried calling, but
he did not answer either. I had no idea whether he was still coming. With my
car at the shop, I would have to walk home if he didn’t show.

“I think I’ll stick
around for a bit,” I told Justine. “I might as well have some dinner.”

“Mmmmmm,” she rubbed her
stomach in circles. “Go sit down. Meal’s on me. Will it be the rack of lamb or
the roast duck?” She poised her pencil above her notepad and adopted a
theatrical French accent.

“Chicken sandwich,
please.” I smiled weakly.

“You got it,” she
winked.

I chose a booth by the
window and faced the door. I texted Cayne one more time, hoping for a response.
The seconds ticked away on the overhead clock.

Justine brought my
sandwich. I chewed slowly, barely tasting it. When the clock struck 8:00, I
decided to give up on waiting. I collected my belongings and headed out into
the gathering twilight.

A few violet streaks still
shone amid the clouds as I made my way through the mostly empty streets. Aunt
Lu’s house was not far, and the shortest route would take me directly past
Cayne’s shop. I needed to unburden myself to him, finally making the full
disclosure that I should have made from the very beginning. I hoped that I
wasn’t too late. His silence left me intensely worried.

I heard voices and
clinking dishes from the houses that I passed. My heart jumped a little every
time a car approached. I hugged my arms around my waist and tried to shrink
into myself. The darkness deepened, relieved only by the reflected light of a
pale porcelain moon.

When I rounded the
corner of Primrose, I approached the auto shop with a full view of the gravel
driveway. It was quiet but for a couple of voices that carried on the calm night
air.

One of them was Cayne.
The other was Mindy.

I stopped in my tracks,
poised and listening. I was unable to make out the substance of their conversation.
A trickle of giggles was followed by a deep bass laugh.

Tears blurred my vision.
I tried to blink them back, feeling nauseated and weak in the knees. I stood
paralyzed with indecision, unsure if I should make my presence known or simply
continue on my way. Another burst of giggles wafted through the night. The
tears spilled hotly over my cheeks. I quickly crossed the street and ran home
without looking back.

My eyes opened to beams
of early morning sunlight streaming through the thin white curtains over the bedroom
window. My first instinct was to check my phone for messages. There were none.
Granton was surprisingly quiet. Cayne was still ignoring me.

I replayed in my mind the
indistinct bits of laughter and conversation that I’d heard between Cayne and
Mindy the night before. Was I reading too much into the situation? Maybe it was
a completely innocent interaction that I’d irrationally twisted into something
more sinister. Didn’t Cayne deserve the benefit of my trust? I resolved to go
to the shop and see him right away, both to clear up the previous night’s
events and to tell him the full story of my past with Granton.

I hurriedly dressed in
one of my old high school t-shirts and a pair of gym shorts, threw my hair into
a messy ponytail, and scampered down the staircase. Aunt Lu sat at the kitchen
table, reading the newspaper and sipping coffee from a mug incongruously shaped
like a set of cow udders. She looked up when I entered, the mug poised in
midair. She cocked an eyebrow, a silent question in her gaze after she took in my
disheveled appearance.

“Granton is here in
Hallow River,” I said simply. She nodded and sipped her coffee. “I haven’t seen
him yet. He went to the diner looking for me. He also said he was going to talk
to Cayne.”

“What’s the story with
you and Cayne?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

I poured a splash of
coffee into a mug painted with peacock feathers and plopped into one of the
kitchen chairs with an exaggerated sigh. I tapped my fingernails thoughtfully against
the sides of the mug. What exactly was the story with Cayne? Did I even know at
this point?

“We’ve been seeing each
other.” This seemed like an insufficient description. We had been doing a lot
more than seeing each other. It also did not adequately convey my deepening
feelings.

“Can you trust him? He
has a bit of a reputation around town.”

“I kind of suspected
that.” I chucked half-heartedly. “The thing is, though, I’m not sure that I’ve
given
him
enough reason to trust
me
.”

In refusing to tell
Cayne the real reason for my return to Hallow River, I had undermined the
foundation of our newfound relationship before it even began.

“What do you think
Granton will do next?” Aunt Lu placed her mug on the table, folded her hands,
and leaned toward me.

“I don’t know,” I
answered, looking distractedly around the kitchen. “He’s been off the radar
since yesterday. If he knows about Cayne, that means he’s been watching me. He must
also know that I’m living here. You need to be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me. If
that man comes here, I guarantee that he will regret it.” She shook her finger
and sat up tall. Her severe expression was at odds with her cartoonish drinking
vessel. I smiled at the contradiction in spite of my gloomy mood.

“I’m not running from
him anymore,” I declared with finality. Saying it aloud gave me an added sense
of determination. “This is my home. I refuse to back down.”

“Good.” She patted my
hand where it rested on the table.

I glanced through the
window. The slightly parted curtains revealed something unexpected. My car was
parked in front of the house.

“Who dropped off the car?
I left it at the shop yesterday.”

Aunt Lu shrugged and
shook her head. “It was here when I woke up this morning.”

I burst through the
front door and ran down the winding walk. I presumed that Cayne had returned
the car, but I did not know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Was he
angry? Was this his way of saying that he never wanted to see me again? Or was
this a peace offering?

As I approached, I spied
a note taped to the steering wheel and tried the door. It was unlocked. The keys
were in the ignition. I tore off the note, but my blood instantly ran cold.
This was not Cayne’s blocky print. It was Granton’s curling script, and it said
only one word.

Gotcha
.

I crumpled the paper and
tossed it into the gutter. Granton was playing games. He wanted me to fret and
wring my hands with worry over his next possible move. The car and the note were
designed to inform me that he had, in fact, been to the shop to see Cayne. I
hopped into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. Then that’s
exactly where I was headed too.

***

The auto shop was
relatively quiet when I arrived. I parked on the street and looked around for
Cayne, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Can I help you with
something?” I jumped when I heard his voice over my left shoulder. He didn’t
sound hostile, just cold and businesslike. I turned on my heel. He stood with
his arms crossed over his chest, glaring down at me with an unreadable expression.

“I need to talk to you,”
I sputtered. “You didn’t answer my texts yesterday.”

“Oh, now you need to
talk to me?” He glanced at the few other mechanics loitering around the garage
entrance. Then he pinched two fingers around my elbow and guided me down the
drive and out onto the sidewalk. We walked for a minute until we were out of
sight of the shop.

“Look, Cayne, I ---”

“No, you look, Brinley.
I have a few things that I’d like to say to you.” His eyes flashed with anger.
“Your fiancée came by here yesterday.” He drew out the syllables of the word
“fiancée” and spat them out with venom.

“Fiancée?” I asked in
disbelief. I swallowed the lump of anxiety that was forming in my throat.

“Granton Langley. Did
you forget that you’re engaged? He already told me everything. You don’t have
to pretend anymore.” He crossed his arms again and kicked the cement with the
toe of his boot.

“What did he say to you?”
I tried to remain calm despite the slight tremor in my voice.

“Just that you’ve been
together for seven years. You live with him in New York City. Oh, and you two are
getting married in October. At least, that was the plan until you ran away
without a trace a few days ago. He’s been looking for you ever since. He only
found you because of the inquiries I sent to the dealer network about your car.
That’s why he came here first. The guy seemed frantic. He took the car. He owns
it, after all.”

Cayne shook his head
with disgust and kicked the cement in frustration.

I placed my hand on his
forearm. “Hold on. It’s not---”

“What the hell, Brinley?”
He cut me short and nudged my hand away. “How could you not tell me all this?
What kind of person are you?” He was practically shouting at this point.

We both saw a head peek
over a nearby row of shrubs and then dart quickly down again. Cayne’s eyes,
normally sparkling with mischief and delight, now shone with a hurt fury. He
lowered his voice and continued.

“How could you not tell
me that you’re engaged? Now I know why you were being so secretive. Why did you
come back here? Was this all just a joke? Were you just having some fun with
the country bumpkin before you go back to your rich husband in New York?” His
voice cracked with emotion. “Was I just a joke to you?”

“Cayne, it’s not what
you think. Let me explain.”

“No, you let me finish. I
thought I knew you, but I was wrong, completely wrong. I thought I was falling
in love with you. Now I feel like a fucking idiot. Ever since you got here,
I’ve poured my heart out and put all my feelings on the table while you kept your
secrets and avoided my questions. I’ve been nothing but honest with you, and
you’ve done nothing but lie right to my face.”

“Honest? You’ve been
nothing but honest? Is that why Mindy was here with you last night? I heard you
two at the shop.” My accusation sounded petty and spiteful. I immediately
regretted it with a sinking heart.

“You don’t know what you
heard.” He shook his head and sighed. “Mindy came by when I was closing up. She
tried to convince me to go out with her. I said no. End of story. When I told
you to trust me yesterday, I meant it.” He sounded both offended and sad. I
instinctively knew that he was telling the absolute truth.

“Cayne, everything that
Granton said to you is a lie. He is not my fiancée.”

“Have you been with him
for the past seven years? Do you live with him? Are you driving his car and
wearing his jewelry?”

“Yes, but there is more
to it ---”

“Enough, Brinley. It
doesn’t matter now.” He paused and cleared his throat, looking up into the
overhanging trees and then back down at me. “This was a mistake. We were a
mistake.”

Tears gathered in my
eyes. I dropped my head and tried with difficulty to stop them from flowing.
“Is that what you really think?”

He didn’t answer. He just
placed his hand on my shoulder and remained silent for a few seconds.

“I have to go,” he finally
said.

I watched him walk away,
his head bent forward and his hands in his pockets, until he rounded the corner
of the driveway and disappeared from view.

***

The diner was
practically empty. Minutes ticked steadily toward 11:00pm. One lone trucker
hunched over the last few bites of his apple pie before tipping his cap to me
and departing, leaving behind a generous ten dollar tip. The humming coffee pot
was the only sound to break the silence. I absent-mindedly stacked and
re-stacked a pile of paper napkins.

Part of me wanted to be
angry with Cayne. The rest of me understood that I was in the wrong. He
deserved better. My heart bled with the realization that I had caused him pain.
I needed to make this right somehow. The thought of never seeing him again was
a possibility too awful to contemplate.

I squatted low to
retrieve another stack of napkins from behind the counter when I heard the
familiar tinkle of bells over the front door. Shoes clicked slowly over the
linoleum, getting louder as they approached. When I stood, my world crashed to
a halt. My mind went blank with fear. Granton stared back at me, grinning with
malice from ear to ear.

“Hi, honey.” He took one
more measured step forward and rested his hands on the edge of the counter.

I opened my mouth to
speak, but the words stopped in my throat. I gasped for air. The napkins in my
hand were soaked from contact with my sweaty palm. I gripped them tight to keep
my fingers from shaking and looked around the room like a hunted animal, hoping
by some miracle that we were not alone. The room was empty. The clock ticked
loudly into the tense hush.

“What are you doing
here, Granton?” My voice sounded thin and wobbly.

“Oh, come on, dear. Is
that any way to treat your long lost fiancée?” He laughed heartily. “You should
have seen the confusion on that poor boy’s face when I told him my sad, sad
story. What’s his name again? Candy?”

“His name is Cayne. Why
did you tell him that?”

“Why not? I guess I
really enjoyed playing the jilted lover. It was a fine bit of acting, if I do
say so myself. I think the dumb sap felt sorry for me.”

He laughed and flashed a
row of perfect white teeth. His eyes had the icy metallic sheen of gunmetal. Gray
hairs sprinkled his temples. Lines creased around his eyes with each malevolent
smile.

“So, I presume you got
my note this morning,” he continued, rapping his knuckles on the counter. His heavy
ring clicked against the glass. “I thought it was a nice romantic touch, didn’t
you?”

“I’ll ask you again.
What do you want from me?”

“What do I want?” His
smile vanished in an instant. His hand shot out with lightning speed and closed
around my wrist before I even knew what was happening. His fingers squeezed tight,
digging into my bones with a grinding force. My wrist felt like it was about to
snap in two. He pulled me forward, my hip crashing painfully against the edge
of the counter, and brought his face so close to mine that our noses were
almost touching. The wintry scent of his cologne, a mixture of pine needles and
ash, invaded my nostrils. His lips spread into another wide leer.

“I just want to talk to
you, baby cakes.” The words slithered from his mouth in a mock southern drawl.
His fingers squeezed tighter. I collapsed forward with a shock of stabbing
pain. He released his grip and let my hand bang limply onto the counter. A
circle of red welts surrounded my wrist. He jutted his chin over to the wall of
booths. “Let’s just have a little chat. What’s the harm in that?”

I massaged the stinging
skin on my wrist and watched him stroll over to an empty booth. He sat on the
edge of the bench, his knees spread wide and his elbow resting casually on the
table. He hooked one finger in the air and gestured for me to come closer. I
stayed behind the counter.

“Why can’t you let me
go, Granton?” A pleading note entered my voice. I was trying in vain to appeal
to a sympathetic side that I knew very well did not exist. “You’ve taken enough
from me. Why do you want more?”