Magnolia Road Page 8

  “How so?” He’s inquisitive, his face displaying a curious look. He’s back to serious Ethan.

  “How much time do you have?”

  “Enough.”

  I look out over the dark harbor as we approach. The distant foghorn blows. The sun has long since left the sky. Seals bark.

  “My brother, Ryker, got hooked on heroin. He’s been to rehabs before. My mom tries to continually save him. Makes excuses for him. Making him sicker. My father gets lost in his work to avoid our issues. And I come here.”

  We’re at the edge of the water.

  I feel the moistness of the air against my face. I take in the silence, and I try to pull out the differences of our childhood.

  “What about you?” I ask.

  Ethan crosses his arms. Sighs. “Robby and I met in boot camp when we were eighteen. Just young. Fresh out of high school. Clean-cut, small-town boys looking to serve our country. He came from a good family. Had a wife and a baby on the way. We did our first tour together in Iraq. After we came home from our first deployment, Robby struggled just a little bit. His wife had had their first child while we were over there. He’d lost his sergeant right in front of him. Lost friends. Had to make big choices in life-threatening situations. Decisions we weren’t comfortable making. Then, we did a second tour.” Ethan pauses. “Tore him up emotionally. He came home. They gave him painkillers for the wounds on the outside. He was supposed to see a therapist for the wounds on the inside, but he didn’t. Had no trouble taking the pain medication though. Got hooked. Six months later, he was discharged from the military. His wife left him. He lost housing. He lost everything.”

  A seal barks.

  The foghorn sounds.

  “Robby’s mom called me a while back. Went down to Brookline to see if I could help him.”

  He’s quiet. He shoves his hands in his pockets. Looks down at the million tiny rocks that sit against the harbor’s edge that we can barely see.

  “What happened?”

  “There was nothing I could do. He was long gone. He sat. Rocked in his chair. Tapped his head with his fingers. Counted. Ducked for cover every time a car drove by.”

  I catch my breath somewhere in my throat. It’s the sister in me, the daughter in me, that wants to keep Robby safe. Like Ryker. I wish I could scoop him up and put him in a bubble, keeping him safe from the world.

  Ethan’s eyes meet mine. “Robby’s a real good guy who saw some real bad shit and did some real bad shit to make everything go away. The bombs. The gunfire. The screaming.”

  My heart begins to chip away.

  Did Ethan experience this? Did he live through this? How did he come out on the other end of things? Why is life so unfair to some people?

  “Where’s Robby now?” I whisper.

  The foghorn sounds again against the dark sky.

  “Not sure. His mom doesn’t know. Talked to her the other day. Like to check in with her once in a while.”

  I nod. “Why would I have more compassion and empathy for a man I don’t know than my own brother?”

  “Love.” Ethan drags his eyes away from the Atlantic, the vast, strong body of water that can overpower ships and take lives, and looks at me. Looks through me. “You love your brother, that’s why you’re angry. You can’t be angry at a man you don’t know because his addiction doesn’t directly affect you.”

  And, for the first time in a long time, I feel like someone sees me for the person that I am. The truth of my character, sometimes ugly. The truth of my downfalls, sometimes beautiful.

  “Love,” I whisper just so I can feel the way the word tastes in my mouth, letting it settle.

  “Ethan?” a woman’s voice sounds from behind us. “There you are.”

  We both turn to see Helen with Bill, Ruthie and Milton Murdock, Alex, and the woman Ethan showed up with standing just outside Get the Scoop.

  This just got real awkward, real quick.

  Ethan walks, and I follow his lead. I look up at him, and he’s looking down at me. His eyes say, Don’t leave, so I don’t.

  “Beth, this is my friend Bryce.”

  I stick out my hand—not for her, but for Ethan. “I’m his girlfriend. He just doesn’t know it yet.” I wink at Beth—and not in a snide or condescending way.

  I said it, so Helen would stop worrying. I said it, so Ethan would stop trying to appease his mom. I said it, so I could buy some time with Ethan. I don’t dare look at Alex, for fear I’ll laugh because she’s probably giving me the look. The smug one that says she’s about to laugh at any moment.

  Beth, caught off guard and embarrassed, makes me feel awful.

  “Don’t worry, Beth. He didn’t know he was my boyfriend until just now.”

  I look over at Helen, whose jaw is on the floor in the most elated way. Bill smirks, and Ruthie is speechless.

  Milton says, “There goes the neighborhood.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bryce. I was worried why a man like Ethan was still on the market. For a moment, I’d lost faith in women.”

  I reach back and intertwine my arm with his, and I feel Ethan’s body tense. I place my thumb on the inside of his wrist where no one can see it and gently slide it back and forth.

  The tenseness in Ethan’s body loosens.

  “Ethan and I go way back. Just wasn’t sure who was going to make the first move. It all started back in LA,” I tease, knowing he’ll stop me soon.

  “Beth, I’ll walk you back to my parents’ house.”

  I linger on Ethan’s arm for just a moment, savoring his skin beneath mine, letting him know that I’ll be all right on my own while he’s gone.

  But, in the corner of my eye, I see headlights are moving toward us fast, weaving all over the road.

  Ethan sees this, too, because, in one fell swoop, he’s able to push all seven of us to the side wall of Get the Scoop as we hear the car come squealing closer and closer and closer.

  The screeching gets louder.

  A loud bang.

  I brace for impact because the sound of the car is so loud now.

  The black sedan comes flying by, the taillights zigzagging toward the end of town.

  Ethan’s already on the phone. Immediately, we hear the police sirens.

  “North on Main,” Ethan says.

  Granite Harbor PD stays at a safe speed down Main Street, going through town, passing us, following the black sedan that we can no longer see.

  “Is everyone all right?” Ethan asks.

  We nod awkwardly, wondering what the hell just happened.

  The black sedan is back, is all I keep thinking. Was he gunning for me? I should say something.

  But I think about the text I received earlier. I think about the awfulness that could cause if I breathed a word to anyone. I think about Robby and what Ethan would do for him.

  “Dad, Milton, get Beth, Alex, Mom, and Ruthie home. I’ll send Eli for Alex and Officer Lent if he has any questions.”

  Bill nods at his son. Beth, Ruthie, Helen, Alex are still shaken.

  I reach out for Alex and give her a quick squeeze, and we both give each other a knowing nod.

  We separate from the group. Ethan takes my hand, and we begin to walk down Main Street.

  “We’re looking to see if anyone’s been hurt or injured.” His step is purposeful as I lag a step behind.

  But he stops mid-stride.

  My mind is spinning.

  He turns and takes one step back to where he’s in my personal space. Grabs my face with both hands. His breath is minty and ice cold.

  “Are you all right?” I think he whispers, his eyes expectantly searching mine.

  I try to nod but can’t, and I’m not sure if it’s the shock of what just happened or the fact that Ethan Casey is inches away from my face. His eyes wild, he blinks several times, as if trying to gain clarity in his head, of the situation.

  He turns, grabs my hand, and pulls me like a toddler, searching through storefronts with his flashlight fr
om his phone.

  It’s a bit chillier now.

  We hear trucks before we see them. Ethan pays no mind to their thunder. Two game warden trucks and a personal truck park in the middle of Main Street, blocking off the nonexistent traffic. Aaron, Ryan, and Eli stalk toward us.

  “Looking for people hurt. Not sure if the asshole hit anybody,” Ethan calls to them, gripping my hand.

  I think the shock on their faces isn’t for the situation at hand; it’s the fact that Ethan Casey is holding hands with a woman.

  Ethan realizes this a second after I do.

  He holds tighter.

  “I’m going to take Bryce home, and then I’ll be back,” Ethan says to Aaron.

  Aaron nods.

  “Eli, Alex went with my mom and dad and the Murdocks back to my parents’ place,” Ethan says. “I said I’d send you over when you got on scene.”

  “We’ve got this. Go get Alex,” Ryan says to Eli.

  Eli does a quick turnaround and heads back on Main toward the Caseys’ house.

  I pull myself closer to Ethan, taking two steps to his one.

  Silence lies in front of us as my thoughts begin to tick.

  1. I claimed Ethan as my boyfriend but purely to convince his mom that he has a woman who will watch out for him. That was my only motive. Right?

  2. The same black sedan I’ve seen in front of the house on Magnolia Road for the past few days has just hurled past us. Why? Trying to kill us? Me? Who was behind the wheel?

  3. Ethan is still holding my hand.

  “You can let go now,” I whisper against his shoulder, looking up at him.

  His breathing is heavy, he’s deep in thought, and he acts like he didn’t hear me. Something flipped in Ethan. From quiet, tight-lipped Ethan to Ethan the dictator.

  “Are you all right?” I ask.

  Still, no response.

  “Ethan,” I say louder and stop our pace.

  “What?” he snaps. His eyes still wild.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. Let’s get you home.”

  We walk up the steps to the house on Magnolia Road, the nearly gray one now with specks of pink.

  “Ethan, wait. Can you just stop for a second?” I don’t budge anymore.

  He stops. His back to me.

  “Ethan,” I whisper, “we’re safe. Everyone is safe.” With my other hand, I reach up and touch his shoulder.

  Ethan sighs. Turns to face me. I see fear in his eyes.

  Twelve

  Ethan

  As the black sedan barreled right for us, I’d envisioned a death, another funeral, and life without one more person. The way I acted with her was so protective. I saw one color, and that was red. Touched her in public like that. Held her hand. I couldn’t help it.

  Gunshots.

  People screaming.

  Dying.

  Blood.

  Lots of blood.

  That is what went through my head, what I saw, but I know it didn’t really happen. Something flipped inside me. As if we were on the field again, and I was directing men into war. Setting them up for death, not knowing the outcome but praying for the best.

  We’re standing on the porch, and she’s telling me we’re all right.

  Bryce is focused on me.

  “Come inside.” She pushes past me because, now, I’m the one who needs help.

  The insanity of the moment has shifted.

  She opens the door and gently tugs on my hand. I shut the door behind us.

  “Sit down,” she says in the dark house as she reaches the lamp and turns it on.

  I do.

  Bryce goes to the kitchen, and I lean back on the couch, closing my eyes, trying to gain some clarity. Nothing like this has ever triggered me at work. Ever. I’ve done a lot of work with James to keep the mild case of PTSD at bay. The only difference between work and this situation are Bryce and my parents.

  You’re in too deep, Ethan. You need to nip this in the bud now.

  I hear the microwave ding and cupboards opening, closing.

  Bryce comes back into the living room, carrying a mug, and sets it down on the coffee table in front of me. “Give it a few minutes to cool.” She sits down next to me, resting her head against the back of the couch, her eyes straight ahead.

  Quiet hangs in the air like the first breeze of fall. It’s calming. I take a big breath in.

  We both stare at the wall, resting in the moment.

  “Wonder how Robby’s doing. You should try to get a hold of him.”

  “You call Ryker, and I’ll try to reach Robby. Pinkie swear?” I say, giving her a sideways glance.

  She wraps her pinkie around mine. “Pinkie.”

  I smile. I learned this from Robby’s daughter, Madalyn, when she was about seven. I don’t remember the promise she made me make, but I remember her toothless grin and her bright eyes.

  We keep our pinkies entangled as we slowly let our hands fall to the couch.

  “I need to tell you something.” Bryce hesitates.

  I wait.

  “I use sarcasm to piss off my mom.”

  “Why?”

  “I have no idea. I guess because it’s easier than dealing with her shit.” She waits.. “You seem to treat your mom really well. Don’t ever tell my mom I admitted that, okay? If you ever meet Trudy Hayes.”

  “Promise.”

  My pinkie tightens around hers, but she wiggles loose.

  “Drink your tea,” she says.

  I walked into the house on Magnolia Road, hyped up, unable to see straight with what had happened earlier, but Bryce did something. She didn’t cradle me, baby me. She kept the lights dim, ordered me to sit down, made me tea, and told me something about her life. For whatever reason, this helps. Brings me back down. My heart rate has slowed. I’m not on edge.

  I pull myself forward to sip on the tea. “This tastes like shit.” I set the tea down, the bitterness of it still resting on my tongue.

  “It should. It’s expired. Apparently, the owner of the place didn’t update the stash.”

  I laugh out loud. For the first time in a long time, I allow myself to take part in something I watch others do every single day, most likely without thinking about it.

  I look over at Bryce, who’s grinning. Not laughing but instead watching me laugh.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “For what?” she whispers, still watching me.

  “I don’t think I’ve laughed like that in an extremely long time.” I shake my head, clasping my hands between my legs, leaning back against the couch. My head falls back again to match hers.

  “I like your laugh,” Bryce says, not looking at me, focused on the ceiling now.

  Every inch of me wants to reach out and run my hand along her lean jawline, touch the collarbone that runs the length of her shoulders. Put my lips on them. Something I’ve done before, something I’ve missed.

  I could pull her to me, put her on top of me, and she’d go along with it—and not because she wanted to, but because she knew I needed it. My heart begins to pick up pace.

  The sourness of the tea still lingers in my mouth. “The owner needs to buy new tea,” I say, trying to push away what she does to me.

  She smiles again. “Definitely leaving a one-star review on the website. Tea is shitty.”

  I feel the smile begin to form.

  We both laugh until we’re done.

  “Can I turn off the lamp by the door?” she asks.

  That would make it dark.

  “Yes,” I say, trying not to think about the things I’ve done to her in both the dark and the light.

  Bryce stands and walks over to the door and locks it.

  Chill the fuck out, Ethan.

  Her yoga pants hug her hips, her ass, everything in all the right places. What’s more is, the attraction I have for Bryce goes much further than her body. This is at the exact moment I panic. This is the exact moment my rational thought leaves, and my need for her chan
ges. It becomes carnal need, not a want.

  The light is clicked off.

  I hear her slide off her parka, and through the window’s light, I see her silhouette.

  Oh, fuck.

  I don’t move a muscle.

  Bryce walks to the back of the house and comes back with a pillow and a blanket. My eyes have fully adjusted to the dark.

  “Can you stay here tonight?” she asks through the darkness.

  “Yeah,” leaves my mouth before I can think.

  “Lie down,” she says, tossing a pillow to me.

  I take off my shoes as she does the same. Then, I turn and extend my legs down the length of the couch.

  Lightly, she crawls in front of me, putting her backside against me. Her scent fills me as I close my eyes and allow her body to adjust to mine.

  She pulls the blanket over the top of us as my heart begins to slam against my chest. I close my eyes and swallow, trying to regain my thoughts, praying to God she doesn’t feel my heart betraying me. Once she’s adjusted, my arm has no place to go but around her waist, so I gently rest it there and feel it everywhere.

  “Is this okay?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  She reaches up and pulls her hair tie from her hair, and I let out an unexpected and quiet groan.

  “Are you all right?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  My head rests inches behind her.

  Don’t fucking move your ass, Bryce, please. Because it’s pushed up against me. You can’t lose control, Ethan.

  “Ethan?”

  “Yeah?” I swallow, counting all the different types of snakes in my head to distract me.

  “Let’s get some tea tomorrow.”

  “Yep,” I breathe.

  “And, Ethan?”

  “Yeah?” Taking my hand from her hip, I run it over my face.

  “Good night.”

  I breathe in her scent. “Good night, Bryce.”

  I know I won’t sleep tonight because I’m too terrified of what I might wake up to. The nightmares or her.

  It’s just after six in the morning, and I haven’t slept. I’m tired. But there was no way I could leave her last night.

  Maybe, in a weird sort of way, it was what we both needed. I listen to her breathing, slow and steady; she’s asleep. Quietly, I pull myself from behind her, replacing my body with the blanket. She gently turns over.