Finding My Forever (2 page)

I look at my watch and exhale loudly. By the time she gets around to finding me a car, I could be knocking on Liam’s door and sitting down for breakfast.

“Sweetheart, would it be easier if I found a different car-hire place to provide my transport while I’m in Beaumont?”

“Oh no, Mr. Davis, I was just communicating with our fleet manager. I’m printing the paperwork now.” And just like that the printer starts spitting out my hire contract. Amazing how that happens.

She puts the contract down on the desk and shows me where to sign my name. When she hands me my copies, her business card is attached at the top.

“Call me if you have any problems. I’ve even included my cell number in the event that we’re closed.”

“Aren’t you open twenty-four hours?” The look on her face is priceless. I’ve never seen someone blush so quickly before. Okay, that’s a lie. There’s that girl that I’m itching to see again. I had her blushing in a matter of seconds, which I think was a record, even for me. Usually I have to sweet talk and romance them first, but not her.

I look around for a hidden camera. This is a moment I want to document. I wink at her as I pick up my keys. Her face turns even redder. She tries to smile, but it looks more like a frown. I hope she doesn’t do anything stupid now that her attempt at being sexy has failed miserably.

I find my car easily enough in their enormous fleet of fifteen vehicles. I don’t know why people – women, in particular – just don’t come out and say what’s on their minds. Hell, maybe she could’ve paid me a compliment. That would’ve made my day. But no, they um and ah around the topic and the only thing they succeed in is wasting my time.

When I pull up at Liam’s, I’m happy to see Harrison is here. Now that I’m here it will give us more time to finalise what will be on the CD before Tyler arrives to start on the production. As much as I wish we were in LA doing this crap, I like coming out to Beaumont to escape reality. There are no paparazzi to bug us. I can chill out with family without people hiding in the bushes or analysing everything I’m buying at the supermarket. Liam was right when he moved back. The way of life here is total serenity.

The only thing missing is the eye candy. I need them. They entertain me and remind me that I’m nothing better than what my father said I would be. I won’t be stupid though. I won’t get any of my girls up the duff, and I’ll definitely never get married. Kids and marriage complicate things. My dad was married to my mum for a long time, but had so many flings on the side that he lost track, same with my grandfather. I guess it’s in the Davis’ blood to not be tied down.

I walk down the stairs to the studio. Both of them turn and look at me. Their stupid big grins tell me that they’re up to no good. Good thing I’m here to burst their happy little bubble.

“Sam’s offed herself.”

Liam and Harrison freeze like statues and their mouths fall open.

“What did you say?” Liam asks.

“Chelsea came by looking for a shag and showed me a newspaper article reporting that Sam died of an apparent drug overdose just after Christmas.”

“She’s dead?” Liam asks again.

I nod and watch for another reaction from him. I’m not gonna lie, Sam being gone gives us more opportunities. We’ve been thinking for a while now that she’s been influencing venues and blocking them from working with us and we know for a fact that she sabotaged our tour. I never want to wish bad luck onto people, but Sam not being in the picture anymore is a blessing in disguise.

“That’s sort of messed up,” Harrison says. He’s right, it is.

“I never wanted her to die. I just wanted to be free. We’re free,” Liam says.

Harrison and I nod. We’re free.

I
’VE
managed to survive a vicious three-year marriage to the most vile man I’ve ever known. For years he tried to get me pregnant and each time I did what I had to do to prevent it. I feared the day that he would find out about my methods, but it was a risk I was willing to take. There was no way I could bring an innocent child into the world with him as the father. Yet, here I sit, surrounded by dozens of pregnancy tests all telling me what I already know. The swollen breasts, tight fitting clothes and protruding stomach are signs I’ve been trying to ignore, but I can’t anymore. I’m about to be a mother. One slightly drunken moment and I’m pregnant and all I can think is
thank God this child doesn’t belong to my ex-husband
.

You never know someone well enough. I thought I knew Damien Mahoney. I loved him and thought he loved me, but I was sadly mistaken. Our courtship lasted two years until we were married in a fairytale ceremony. My Cinderella wedding dress still hangs in my parents’ closet. I never wanted to part with it, even after I left him. My tiara sits atop my childhood dresser, collecting dust, no doubt. Our marriage was anything but a fairytale. I didn’t get my happily ever after. I got abused, physically and mentally.

No one ever prepares you for the abuse, whether it’s by the hands of the man your father gave you to in front of all your family and friends; or by the hateful and hurtful words that come out of the mouth from the one who vowed to love you, who stood up in front of everyone and said he’d always protect you. When the first slap comes, when you feel the sting resonate across your cheek, you forget those vows. You forget that the man standing in front of you is your husband and you ask yourself why.

The first hit came one night after we had been out with some friends. We started fooling around when we got home and I accidentally hit him between the legs. It was a kneejerk reaction to something he did. I jumped and caught him. I apologized and kept trying to touch him, only to have him bat my hands away each time. That should’ve been my sign to leave him alone, but I kept at it, trying to comfort him. His hand came across my face so fast I didn’t have time to register what was happening until I was holding my cheek and tears were flowing down my face.

He held me tight. Promised me it would never happen again. I believed him.

Until he lied.

After each incident he would beg me to forgive him. He’d tend to my cuts and bruises. He’d berate and belittle himself. He promised me it was the last time.

Until it wasn’t.

I learned how to hide my bruises from my friends and family. I became a klutz every time I’d break my arm or collarbone. I pretended I loved him.

Until I couldn’t.

I stayed because I had taken my vows seriously. I stayed because he sought help and for a while it worked.

Until it didn’t.

Some would think that leaving was the hard part, but that’s not the case. The hardest part was calling my dad to tell him that I needed help. I had to wait until Damien went on a business trip. When I knew he was gone, I finally found the courage to call my dad and tell him everything. He came that night, packed my belongings and took me home. My dad never said anything. He moved fluidly through my house while I stood there with tears streaming down my face. The car ride to my parents was the longest ride ever. He didn’t speak until we pulled into the driveway.

He sat there, staring straight ahead with his hands holding onto the steering wheel. He said, “Jenna, you’re my daughter and if I didn’t raise my hand to you, then no man will.”

The next night I left and ended up in Beaumont. I left my parents behind. I added my signature on divorce papers that my father prepared for me and promised to file. I left for a place where I had no ties and was far enough away from the main road that I could blend in and get to know everyone. I’ve been here for four years and love it. It took me the first two until I could finally walk around without always looking over my shoulder. I know Damien will find me. He’ll come for me. It’s only a matter of time.

And now here I am, happy and sad that I’m pregnant. I don’t know what I’ll tell my parents. They’ll want to meet the man responsible and that’s just not possible. He has a life away from me and it was a one-time thing. It’s not like I can call him up and ask if he remembers me and drop the bomb mid conversation, “
oh by the way
...”

I’m trying not to freak out. I know I can do this, but I’ll need more hours at the store or I’ll have to find a new job. I don’t want to quit on Josie though. I’ll have to talk to her. I pick up all the applicators and throw them away, saving one. I’m not sure why, but it feels right.

The clock shows just after five – I need to get to
Whimsicality
for open mic night. This is a night where I’ll make decent tips. Now that Josie can serve alcohol, nights like these have been a hit. People sign-up weeks in advance just for the small hope that they’ll be playing in front of someone from 4225 West. The guys are usually in the back and rarely make an appearance. Liam doesn’t want to take away from what Josie is doing for these artists.

I live on the same block on which the shop is located. Living on Main Street has its perks. I don’t need to drive and the only time I take out my beat up Corolla is when I babysit the kids. Everything is within walking distance too; the bank, grocery store and doctor’s office. I’ve waited almost two months; it’s time that I make my appointment. I can’t put it off any longer.

I wrap my scarf around my neck as I step out into the cold, crisp air. I’m counting the days until spring. Not that it’s overly cold in Beaumont, but I’m looking forward to some sun. I want to watch the flowers bloom as they line the street with every color imaginable. The trees in the park will turn nice and pink with the cherry blossoms. I want to sit on the bench and rest my hand on my swollen belly and feel my baby kick.

I want to enjoy these things with a partner, but that’s not possible. It would figure that when I finally have enough courage to be with someone, it’s a one-night stand and there’s no hope for us to get together. It’s just my luck that I’m attracted to the one guy who doesn’t really know I exist except for in some hidden room away from everyone. I hate thinking that he doesn’t know my name. I’m telling myself that he does. I’m writing my own story from that night, one filled with unadulterated passion and lust. A night where we watched each other from the other side of the room and when we met in the hallway, alone, we knew.

It was the first time I had felt safe with a man in a long time. Even though it was just sex, he held me. He kissed me like he was never going to see me again. At least that was true. He moved his hands over my body like he had been there a hundred times before.

I know I can make a happy story for my child, one that in which the night he was created was full of love and laughter, that he was loved from the moment I found out.

I take a deep breath and enter the shop. I’m pleasantly surprised to find the guys here.

“What’s going on?” I ask no one in particular.

“We’re playing tonight. JD arrived early and we’re bored. The kids will be down to help you bus tables and Ralph is coming in to help you bartend.” Liam kisses me on the cheek after he finishes rambling.

“Are you expecting a big crowd?”

“I tweeted about it and put the word on the street,” Jimmy answers as he walks by with a big box in his hand. He sets it down and starts plugging cords into the back.

“You tweeted?” I question.

“
Twitter
, social networking, innit?”

“I know what Twitter is, Jimmy.”

Jimmy smiles devilishly. This guy is bad news through and through. “Stay off
Twitter
, Sweet Lips, it’s full of celebrity wannabe’s and wanna-don’t-be’s.”

He starts whistling some tune that I’m sure is one of their hits. I suppose if Jimmy ‘tweeted’ all his loyal harems will be out in droves tonight. That means shitty tips and rude women. Yay, fun times for Jenna.

I go out back, take off my coat and store it in my locker. I think it’s funny that we have lockers, but Josie is all about safety. I admire her for that. We aren’t allowed to leave the shop at night without someone walking us to our cars and, in my case, my apartment. She usually has Liam or Harrison do it, but if they’re not around she calls her friend and local police officer, Paul Baker to come down.

Josie walks in, followed by Noah. He looks bored and is probably wishing he were at home playing video games.

“Jimmy tweeted,” I say. “I think that means we’ll be busy.”

Josie starts to laugh covering her face instantly when she snorts. “Oh God, how embarrassing, I can’t believe I just did that.”

“I can,” Noah says with a roll of his eyes. “You do it all the time. It annoys dad, by the way.”

“Oh hush, you,” Josie pushes him away slightly. “Are you over the flu?”

I nod. I hate lying to her, but she’ll have so many questions that I’m not ready to answer. Truth is I’m not over it. Certain foods make my stomach turn and I’m thankful none of those foods are served here.

I walk out to the front and start making the coffee. We serve wine and beer mostly. For food, we have pastries and sandwiches. I busy myself setting up. As soon as the doors open, people file in. I ready myself for our first customer, except it’s not a customer who steps up. I give him a half smile, the only thing I can muster. I don’t want people to know and for the life of me can’t understand why he’s standing here looking at me. We aren’t friends. It was one moment, a moment that I’ll remember for a lifetime and one that he can forget about.