Secret Maneuvers (14 page)

A look of guilt passed over Belle’s face again and, as she opened her mouth to say something, the waitress stopped at the table to drop off our food. I watched an inscrutable wall go up around Belle’s features. It looked as though she was done talking for the time being. Well, that was just too damn bad. She was going to give me answers before we left here, whether she liked it or not. I’d give her a few minutes to think she’d won this battle, but then, I was going to do whatever it was that I had to do to show her it was just a small battle she’d won. I was damn well going to win the war and my reward would be her love.

Halfway through our meals I switched gears. “So why did you change your last name?”

Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “What else do you know about what happened before I left? You said your mom and dad told you about a bruise. Did they tell you anything else?” Shaking my head no, I waited for her to elaborate. Taking a slow sip of her drink, she put it down and then calmly continued, “I got that bruise because Daddy came home drunk again. He was yelling at me about something and I didn’t have a clue about what he was talking about. When he hit me hard enough that I hit the floor, I saw an empty whisky bottle of his, lying underneath the coffee table. He was still standing over me, accusing me of something I hadn’t done, and all I thought was, ‘I can’t take it anymore.’ So, I slowly reached over with my hand, grabbed the neck of that bottle, and when he leaned over, about to hit me again, I swung with everything I had. Clocked him right in the head.” She gave a short pretend swing with her arm over the table to emphasize her point.

“I would say I don’t know who it scared more, me or him, but since he was sprawled out on the floor with blood pouring from his head—not moving—I’m going to say it was me because, for a few moments, I thought I’d killed him. I finally worked up the courage to check his pulse, which he had, and then I realized that when he came to he was probably going to kill me this time. So, I grabbed his truck keys and I ran scared to your parents’ house. I was going to ask to stay with them.”

The silence was damning. She didn’t need to say the next part because I already knew what it was. And then I got your letter.

She heaved a sigh. “So, after I left your parents’ house, I drove around for a little while, trying to figure out what I was going to do. I knew I couldn’t stay with him anymore, but I also knew I didn’t have anywhere else to go in the county. That’s when it hit me. I’d been saving up all my spare money from working for when we got our place together, so that I could help you buy furniture and stuff. That money was my salvation. There wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to pay for a bus ticket and keep me fed sparingly for a couple of weeks until I landed somewhere and got a job. I drove home, hoping Daddy was still unconscious, that maybe I could pack my bags and leave before he came to, and instead I found him outside of our trailer, talking to the Sheriff’s Deputies. He’d called the cops on me.” Shaking her head in disgust, she said, “He was standing there with a bloody washcloth to his head, talking to the Deputies about how I’d hit him. Can you believe that?

“Luckily, none of them saw the truck before I would have turned into the trailer park, so I was able to get away, but I had to go hide his car so no one could find me. Once I lost his truck, I hoofed it back to the trailer, staying unnoticed by walking through the woods instead of on the roads, and waited until I watched him leave when one of his buddies picked him up. I waited for a while to make sure he was gone for good and then I broke into the house, packed up my shit in a bag, grabbed my cash, and left without once looking back. When I finally made it to the bus station, I asked the lady where the first bus was going and she told me Texas.”

Spreading her hands wide in front of her, she continued, “So here I am. When I got here fifteen years ago, a homeless guy told me about a shelter I could sleep in, so that’s where I headed. A social worker came in a few days after I’d shown up at the shelter, took one look at my bruises and decided to be my guardian angel. She was an older woman who’d apparently lost her daughter due to domestic violence. After that, she made it her life’s mission to help out women running from that kind of violence. She moved me into her home, had someone change my name so Daddy couldn’t find me, and helped me get on my feet.”

Clearing the knot from my throat, I asked, “Where is this woman now?”

“Miss Reba died ten years ago from cancer. She lived long enough to help me through some seriously rough shit and saw me get my college degree before she finally passed. One of the best people I’ve ever met in my life.”

A stranger had been there for Belle when I’d abandoned her. What would have happened had Miss Reba not taken Belle in? Would her father have caught up with her? Would she have survived the kind of creeps that sometimes frequented places like shelters to target those weaker than them? It was a fucking miracle she’d made it out of all of that alive. Alive and alone because I’d left her when she needed me the most. There was at least one thing I could tell her that might make it better.

“Did you hear from your dad after you left Georgia?” She shook her head. “The cops never came after you?” She shook her head again. “Have you bothered to check on your father’s whereabouts since then?” She shook her head a third time.

“Then I can tell you that you don’t have to worry about it anymore. Your dad died seven years ago. He was driving home drunk and wrapped himself around a tree. They didn’t find the wreck or his body for at least a week after it happened and my parents told me that the Medical Examiner was quoted in the papers as saying he’d bled to death from his injuries. My parents sat outside of the cemetery waiting to see if you showed up so they could be there for you.”

Her eyes widened, her fingers gripped the edge of her table, and she sat there in shock for a few minutes. After staring sightlessly at the table, she whispered, “He can’t hurt me anymore.”

I knew she wasn’t necessarily talking to me, but I whispered back anyway, “No, baby, he can’t hurt you anymore.”

She looked back up at me, nodded her head, then picked up her sandwich and took a bite. We sat quietly eating the rest of our food, paid for our meals, and then headed back to the hotel. I knew why she was speechless. I’d just dropped the mother-load of an emotional bomb on her and she needed time to absorb all of that. I could give her time for that. It was when she was trying to push me away and shut me out that I refused to give in.

As Belle stopped the truck at the front entrance, she turned in her seat to face me. “Lunch was nice, Ace. Thanks for the talk, as well as the apology. There’s something else we need to talk about real soon, but after hearing about my dad, I need some time to myself today. Before I go, though, I’ve got to be honest with you. I’ve got someone in my life that makes it impossible for us to patch things up. I’m sorry. We can move on to being friends, though—if you want—when all of this is over.”

I hung my head as a wave of pain ripped through my chest. Friends? She wanted to be fucking friends? All because she had a man in her life? Where was this someone in her life yesterday morning when I’d been so deep inside her that I wasn’t sure where she begun and I ended? I’d be damned if I was going to let her ignore what we had and try to categorize me as a friend. Without thinking, I reached over to snag the back of her neck, bringing her closer to me. Before Belle could protest, I slammed my lips down onto hers, kissing her senseless.

She gasped in surprise and I took the opportunity to thrust my tongue into her mouth. I put all of my love, frustration, pain and desire into that kiss. Sliding my tongue against hers, causing her to moan at the touch. My brain felt fried as a burning sensation traveled through my entire body at the simple touch. Sparks ignited behind my eyelids and I knew, without a doubt, that no one had, or ever would, feel like this to me again. Belle’s hands fisted the fabric of my shirt. When my head was swimming from lack of oxygen, I finally pulled back enough to break our kiss. Foreheads still touching, lips hovering over hers, breathe sawing harshly in and out of my chest.

“Friends don’t kiss like that, baby. You can’t tell me that this is something you really want to walk away from. No man will ever love you like I do.”

She was silent for a second, but when her voice came out, it was hoarse with a slightly choked sound. “You can’t know that, Ace. Someone may come along for you in time and, whoever it is, she’ll make you happy. You’ll move on.”

Shaking my head in denial, I rasped, “No, Belle, you’re wrong. No one will ever make me feel the way I do with you. I know this with the certainty that the sun will set today and rise again tomorrow. The kind of certainty that when the moon rises and the stars blink in the sky that they’ll all still look way too dim to me. They’ll always look too dim because you are the brightest star in my life and, without you, everything else seems cloudy. I only seem to see things clearly when you’re around and I know all of that because you are my soul.”

Not giving Belle time to make another reply, I hopped out of the passenger side, slamming the door before stalking towards the hotel. Looking back over my shoulder, I watched her rev up the truck and shoot out of the parking lot like hell was hot on her heels. A throat cleared in front of me. Turning to face the sound, I found Agent Boyd watching me closely.

“That was some kiss there, Baker. You guys patch things up?”

I hung my head at the fresh onslaught of pain threatening to tear what was left of my heart and soul into pieces. “No, we didn’t. She says it’s time for me to move on and that there’s a man in her life that makes it impossible for us to try.”

Boyd’s eyebrows shot to his hairline seconds before his look of surprise turned into a look of anger, complete with a face flushed so red I was tempted to check his blood pressure. He scoffed, “A man, huh? I tell you what, Baker. You want to know what’s keeping Annabelle from you?”

My body coiled tight. I barely resisted the urge to grab Boyd and shake him silly while demanding answers to all of his questions. “Hell, yeah, I do. What do you know that I don’t, Boyd?”

“Be sure, Baker. I mean it. Be damn sure about this because once you know, you can’t go back.”

“What the fuck, Boyd? Yes! I want to know.” Pounding a fist on my chest, I declared, “Belle means everything to me. The damn woman is just too stubborn to give me another chance.”

“Alright. You got anybody on this little team of yours that you’re close to? Anyone who’s a good friend?”

“We’re all like brothers, so, yeah. Why?” I was doing my damnedest to figure out where the hell Boyd was going with all of this.

“Look,” Boyd ran his hand through his hair in agitation, “just grab someone you trust to have your back and meet me here at seven-thirty. You’ve got to follow me. Don’t ask any questions until we get to our destination, okay?”

I looked at Belle’s partner like he’d lost his damn mind. That was like asking a soldier to go into a mission with a blindfold on. A sense of unease skirted down my spine, but no matter the strong sense of unease, hope sprang deep inside of me. “This will explain why Belle’s holding back on me?”

Boyd nodded. “Yeah. That and a lot more. Just meet me at seven-thirty and, whatever you do, don’t tell Belle about this if you talk to her. She’d kick your ass. Then, she’d kick mine. My wife doesn’t like it when Belle kicks my ass, either, because she leaves bruises, literally.”

He stormed out of the hotel lobby before I could ask any more questions. Whatever. Boyd had promised an in to Belle’s unwillingness to fix what was between us. I would take all the help I could get. Even if the small voice in the back of my head told me that this was going to end badly.

Chapter Nine

Bobby

Had a day ever passed by so excruciatingly slow before? Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I ran my hand through my hair for possibly the hundredth time, cursing the clock for not moving faster.

“Hey,
man, chill out. You’re going to make me nervous, watching you pace around this lobby like a tiger trapped in a cage.”

Looking back at Declan I was about to pop off a smart-ass comment, but before I could open my mouth to say anything, a car horn honked from out front. Boyd was sitting in front of the hotel in his Jeep. Walking out the front doors with Declan, Boyd rolled his window down at our approach.

“Get in your SUV and follow me.” With that short command, he rolled his window back up and waited for us to comply.

We drove in the opposite direction of San Antonio; heading further into the small town of Poteet, Texas that Belle now called home. After what felt like forever, Boyd finally led us to a place that I certainly hadn’t expected to stop. A high school. Parking in the back of a packed out lot, we exited our vehicle to meet with Boyd.

He seemed on edge as he walked up to me. “Tonight’s the high school’s homecoming football game. Belle is here. It should be about half time now. I’m going to walk you to the far end of the bleachers, then we’ll make our way towards where she is. I’m going to tell you now, man, don’t let this get ugly. Belle is already going to kick my ass for bringing you here, so do not make it any worse for me than it already is. No matter what you see, be cool.”

After that eyebrow raising statement, Boyd turned around and started walking towards the stadium. Declan and I exchanged dubious expressions before following him. I didn’t think much on why Belle would be at a high school football game because Belle had always loved to watch football. She preferred the local games over watching the professional ones on television. Stuffing her face with hot dogs and dancing to the marching band were some of her favorite things to do. The only suspicious thing going on was Boyd’s comments so far. Maybe whoever Belle’s ‘man’ was, presumably the mysterious Seth, would be here with her. Maybe he worked for the high school.