Keep Me (Shelter Me #3) (20 page)

Shelby’s sniffles coming from the back seat have me cranking my head to look at her.

“I’m fine.”

She waves her hand, changing the direction of her head from looking forward to looking out the window. Markus slows down and gets off of the highway. A deep feeling of trepidation hits me. I have no clue where her restaurant is. I know what it looks like from looking it up online a hundred times just to feel like I was close to her when she left, but nothing prepares me for the sight in front of me when we pull up to the building nestled just off a busy main road.

Jesus, it’s stunning. The old brick building looks like a huge old southern style house. The large parking lot is off to the side, flooded with police cars. This isn’t just some small restaurant, these is a restaurant at its finest. As we pull up alongside one of the cop cars, I notice an outdoor seating area with tables and chairs, and palm trees with strings of lights. There’s also a large outdoor bar.

As we all step out of the car and approach the building, Shelby has her hands tucked inside her sweatshirt. She looks so small and fragile as she walks with trepidation. I swing my arm around her to show her the comfort I know she desperately needs. Shelby hesitates at the entrance of the building and when she finally swings open the door nothing can prepare my eyes for the upheaval that lays before us. What in the hell did they do?

Chapter Twenty-One

Shelby

My brain has short-circuited. How could this happen? Why? What could they possibly gain by destroying my restaurant? Standing here motionless in the middle of what was known as my life, I cannot even comprehend the sight before me.

“I- I need to sit down.”

Not sure who puts a chair behind me, I do feel Antonio’s strong hands of when he helps guide me into the chair, running his hands through my hair down to my shoulders where he begins to massage the cords in my neck. The way his strong hands feel has me sinking back in the chair.

“Do you know why they would do this? What they were looking for?” Antonio says from behind me.

A voice I don’t even recognize starts talking. I look up to a man in a disheveled, wrinkled suit, a few days of dark stubble on his face, hair graying at his temples.

“Miss Morris, I’m detective Rogers.”

He sticks his large hand out for me to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” I say as I place my hand in his.

“Let me start out by answering your question. They were looking for money for drugs. Two of them ran and shot at a few of my guys when they were chasing them. They were shot and killed. The other two were apprehended. One was so strung out on shit, he’s still at the hospital. The other one is down at the station and spilled his guts. Nineteen year old scared punk told us the whole story. Look, Miss Morris, I cannot imagine what you must be feeling right now. There isn’t really anything I can say to make you feel any better. You’re free to look around, you just can’t touch or take anything.”

I know this cop is doing his job, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to punch him in the face for telling me I can’t touch a thing in my own place. The sight in front of me makes me sick, my hand flies to my chest, trying to soothe the pain in my heart. Every single window in busted out, shards of clear glass mixed in with the rainbows of colors from the stained glass lamp shades that used to hang from the ceiling. Those are all destroyed, too.

Tables are turned over, some have all four legs on them; others are missing. Several chairs are ripped apart. I hear myself gasp. My mouth drops open when my eyes land on what used to be my bar. The solid dark cherry handmade bar has been demolished. Someone took something to it and beat off chunks of wood everywhere. Glass from what I assume are liquor bottles is shattered everywhere. The mirror and shelving that were behind the bar are no longer in place. It’s worse than any nightmare I have ever had. When my gaze lands on what used to be the entrance to the kitchen, my heart drops to the floor.

“I need to go in there and look.”

I jump up before anyone can even stop me.

“OH MY GOD… Noooo!” I scream, falling to the floor in a heap, my body shaking uncontrollably.

Both Antonio and Markus are immediately at my side.

“Come on, sweetheart.”

“No.” I jerk myself from their grip when they lift me up. “I have to see this.”

Tears fall down my face, both sad and angry. My kitchen looks worse than if a hurricane came crashing through the place. There’s nothing left of it. Every single inch of it is destroyed. Food lies all over the floor; the cooler doors and oven hinges are hanging off half-assed.

“How in the fuck could they do this shit?” Antonio barks.

“You would be surprised what drug addicts will do to find a way to score their next hit,” Detective what’s-his-name says.

“Well, did they get their money?” my angry words tumble out.

“No, they didn’t,” says an all too familiar voice from behind me. I spin around to the sight of my assistant manager Olivia, who looks about as good as I feel.

“Oh, Christ, Shelby. I am so sorry,” she says, approaching me with her wobbly legs and arms.

She reaches out and we embrace each other.

“It’s not your fault.”

My own wobbly legs have me sitting back down.

“I know it’s not, it’s just... well with you being gone and this happening while I was in charge. God, I feel so terrible.”

“Olivia, stop. None of this is your fault.”

Her guilt is written all over her face.

“Listen, this can all be redone. Don’t feel guilty. It’s a shock to all of our systems. Hell, I’m still in shock, probably will be for the rest of my life. At least everyone was gone. You said they didn’t find any money?”

Somberly she shakes her head.

“No. It’s been a crazy busy week, and I’ve made three deposits. I took everything to the bank night deposit when I left here, except the money we leave for the cashier and bar, which I’m assuming they got.”

Both of us look at the detective, who nods his head in confirmation.

“What happens next?” I ask him, now that I have his attention.

My eyes wander around the room as he explains everything to all of us.

“Yes, of course I have insurance,” I answer with a little more clip in my voice than necessary.

At that particular moment Antonio’s phone rings.

“It’s Erin.”

He puts the phone up to his ear and walks away from us. Adam and Erin cutting their honeymoon short makes me feel worse than seeing this fucked up shit in front of me.

“She wants to talk to you,” Antonio states, handing the phone to me.

I take several deep breaths before bringing it up to my ear, my guilt eating away at me.

“Hey,” I say, my voice sounding way more despondent than I would have liked.

“Oh, gosh. Shelby. I’m not even going to ask if you’re okay, but know this, we will be there late tomorrow. We’re at the airport now.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say with remorse.

My shoulders sag as I start to cry.

“Shelby. Hang on, sweetie. It’s going to be okay.”

The sound of my sister’s voice on the phone, knowing she is coming home for me is more than I can take. I try to talk, to form a coherent sentence, but nothing seems to come out but unwelcome sobs. This is so wrong, so very wrong.

“Shh... I got you.”

Antonio’s words along with the feeling of his arms circling my waist bring me much needed comfort.

“Here, let me talk to her.”

He slides the phone from my hand. Everything hits me all at once. Nothing seems to make sense to me anymore. Rage, pain, sorrow... all of these emotions course their way through me and the only thing I want to do right now is climb into the comfort of my bed and sleep for days. Sleep away all this pain and anger. My hand reaches for my necklace again. The comfort from it is all I am holding onto when I am lifted in Antonio’s arms.

I’m carried to the car and even carried into my home and placed on my bed. I am still clinging to the necklace when I wake up feeling even worse than I did before. There’s no easy way to soothe the ache in my chest, the burden of knowing what lies ahead of me to rebuild and start over. The intensity of the way Antonio has me gripped so tightly against him, his face buried in my hair, brings a wave of the love I feel for him. This man dropped everything to come here, and taken charge right from the moment we got the news.

Who does something like that for someone they only just confessed their love to a few days ago? Someone they have yet to find out much about. More blame falls onto my shoulders knowing he did this all for me, Damn me for being selfish and wanting him here, but with Erin coming and Markus here, I can handle this. Plus, I am going to be here for so long. There is just so much to do. He can’t put his life on hold for me. I won’t allow it. I love him too much to let him.

My heart breaks, falls to the floor and is stomped on repeatedly with the sorrowful decision I have to make. I have to let him go. The worst part is, I don’t want to. Am I selfish for feeling that way? I am and I know it. These past few days have been the best days of my life. He’s helped me through so much in such a small amount of time. I’m stronger because of this incredible, funny and caring man lying beside me.

Gathering my wits about me the best I can, I remove his hand from around me as carefully as I can. I sit up gently with my back to him. I can’t look at him; if I do, I will fall apart. When I stand, I have the sudden urge to pour a shot of something strong. It would do me good right now to help give me the courage to tell Antonio he needs to go. Extracting myself from my bed, I tiptoe as carefully as possible out of my room and down the hall to shower in the bathroom off of the spare bedroom.

A shower is just what I need to clear my head and to decide how to tell him. I turn the water on as hot as I can stand it. I am so freaking out of it that I don’t even realize until I go to take my clothes off that my pants and socks are already off. Antonio must have taken them off of me after he put me to bed. It’s downright laughable, the more I think about it. A grown woman not even remembering the sexiest man she has ever seen taking her clothes off. It’s a sad day when I think about the fact that it will be the last time he will undress me. My life is such a mess.

The spray feels so good as I stand under it, letting the hot water pelt hard streams on my aching neck and shoulders. I stand under there visualizing the look on Antonio’s face when I tell him. He’s not going to go easily, I know he won’t. Scrubbing my skin and washing and conditioning my hair, I shut the almost freezing cold water off, open the shower curtain and nearly jump out of my skin when the door opens. I reach out and grab my towel off of the shelf across from the shower.

“Good morning. I wish you would have woken me up, we could have done that ‘I’ll wash your back if you wash mine’ thing this morning.”

A slight smirk lifts at the corners of his mouth, making me laugh as I wrap the towel around me, suddenly embarrassed to have him see me naked.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to let you get as much sleep as possible.”

I can’t even look at him.  I’m climbing back into my shell, comfortable like I used to be years ago. Only now I don’t want to be in my shell by myself anymore. And that sucks majorly because I know once I let this man go, my life will never be the same, and nothing and no one will ever be able to do a damn thing to change it.

“Look at me, Shelby.”

I suddenly feel smothered in the confines of this small bathroom. I need to get out of here and get dressed before I look at him and fall apart.

“I can’t,” I croak, scarcely getting the words past my lips.

“Why?” he asks tenderly. “
Bella petardo
, what is it?”

He’s standing right next to me now, and if he touches me I won’t be able to do this. I make quick work of snatching up my dirty clothes and try to weasel my way past him. He’s not allowing it as he blocks me from leaving. My wet hair starts to drip cold droplets of water down my back and face, making me shiver. When he reaches out to touch me, I take a step back, still not able to look at him as I take another towel and wrap it around my head.

He doesn’t give me the chance to move away as he places his hand firmly under my chin, lifting it so I have nowhere to look but directly at his handsome face covered with a few days of scruff. Memories of the way he felt between my legs, against my neck, touching me, making love to me, bring unwanted tears to my eyes. Tears I couldn’t hold back even if I wanted to.

“What the hell?”

He brings me into his arms. No, I can’t let him comfort me. I stiffen and just as quickly, he does, too.

“Shelby, what the hell is going on?” he asks more firmly now.

“I- I can’t do this.”

I’m about ready to slaughter both him and myself and I know it. Damn it why? Why?

“Yes, you can. You’re so strong. You can rebuild and make it even better than it was.”

Oh, God. I sink even further into my empty shell of nothingness. Of course he thinks this is about the restaurant. Shaking my head, I take a few steps back, feeling bereft and lonely already at the loss of his warm body, his big strong arms around me.

“It’s not that,” I say meekly.

“Then, what the hell is it?”

When our eyes finally clash, I know he sees it written all over my face as he begins to shake his head back and forth.

“Fuck, no. You are not shutting me out. Get that shit out of your head right now.”

My brain latches on to all the negative reasons why I have to stay strong and do this.

“I’m not shutting you out. I’m letting you go. This mess is mine, mine to deal with, and it is going to take everything I have to put this back together. You have a life back in Michigan, it’s just…”

He looks as if I have just slapped him across his face, and really I have. I have done more than that. I am throwing away the only man I have ever loved, the only person I have truly let deep inside my soul. The only man who will stay there forever.

“You have got to be shitting me?” His question comes out more like a threat than anything else.

“No, I’m not. Think about it. Use your brain. I know you care about me. But you can’t give up everything you have back home and help me with this. You have a life there and I have one here. It was a mistake for us to even think about this possibly even working in the first place.”