Read Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel Online

Authors: Leanna Ellis

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Religion & Spirituality, #Fiction, #Romance, #Gothic, #Christian Books & Bibles, #Christian Fiction

Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel (5 page)

BOOK: Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel
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Chapter Nine

In truth, the poetry book drew him to Pennsylvania. It tugged on Samuel’s soul like a magnet. He wanted to hold it in his hands, touch the pages, and read the words Jacob had once valued. Could he find something, other than aggravating Pop, in common with his lost brother?

With his clothes folded and packed into a duffel bag, he hugged Mamm, who stood on the front porch. He dodged her gaze and the tears in her eyes. Quickly, he shook hands with Pop, avoiding his gaze.

“You’ll let us know when you arrive,
ja
?” Mamm said, her voice constricted.

He wanted to tell her he’d be okay, that he had to do this, but she didn’t know Pop had lied to her too. To her, Jacob had died over three years ago and was buried in an Amish cemetery in Pennsylvania. So he kept his thoughts wrapped inside himself. “Of course, Mamm.”

Without a backward glance, he took off on his motorcycle over the winding, curving roads leading out of Harmony Hollow. Even though the countryside still looked like the dead of winter, with gray, wilted brush and bare-limbed trees, the sun led the way, brightening his path and warming up the day like hot apple cider. Samuel skimmed over the blacktop roads, weaving around pits and broken limbs, before he hit the highway.

It was the right thing to do, he decided, as he swung by the gym where Andi worked as a personal trainer. It took him way out of his way, but he couldn’t just leave without saying good-bye.

He’d been in the chrome and glass workout place a time or two in the past, and the receptionist recognized him and told him Andi’s location. Music blared from hidden speakers. Beyond the bank of televisions, which chattered like magpies, stationary bikes, treadmills, and Stairmasters all whirred and created a cacophony in Samuel’s ears. Andi had explained to him once about all the equipment and tried to get him interested in working out with her, but he hadn’t seen the need. Working in the shop and doing chores around his folks’ place was enough to keep him fit and trim.

Across the weight room, he saw her. Andi wore a tight-fitting warm-up suit that accentuated her slim curves. The jacket was only half zipped and revealed a good portion of cleavage. The man she spoke to seemed focused on her assets, not on her advice. Immediately, Samuel felt a kink in his gut.

Andi placed one foot behind her, and the man copied her movements, wobbling until she steadied him with a hand. His balance was obviously thrown off by his rounded belly and his inability to quit looking at Andi’s curves. She led him to an elliptical machine, got his feet placed correctly on the pads, then his hands on the handlebars, and set a bunch of buttons. The machine started, and the man glided along, getting nowhere quickly. Smiling, she made sure his movements were correct, then patted his arm reassuringly. Samuel had a feeling the man and others like him came here for reasons beyond cardio and BMI.

When Andi noticed Samuel, her smile brightened, which eased the knot in his abdomen. She said something to the man, then walked toward Samuel. Her smile was playful, secretive, making him remember all they’d shared last night, and coiled his insides with a new, more delightful tension.

“Well, hello,” she said as she approached. “Missing me already?”

Samuel became aware of others watching—a woman lifting weights nearby, a man walking on a treadmill. Samuel edged back a few steps to give space for a private conversation. Andi pressed her body against his, looping her arms around his neck and kissing him, declaring to those around:
look
but
don’t touch
. He hoped it would say the same to the men ogling her backside, but he suspected it would only act as a challenge to overblown egos.

She’d told him how the club was a pickup hot spot, where the ladies were always scoping out the men just as much as men were the ladies, unless their pleasure leaned toward their own sex. That shocked him, and she’d laughed and called him “farm boy.”

She cupped his shaved jaw. “I didn’t like waking up without you.”

He squeezed her waist, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to push her back a notch or pull her closer. “There were chores to be done.”

“Oh, I had a chore for you. You’ll have to come back and take care of it.” She winked and kissed him again. Just when she had him wanting more, she eased out of his grasp. “Wanna have dinner tonight? I have to work until four, but—”

“I came to say good-bye.” There. He’d said it. Better to put it out there and let her know before she muddled his mind.

Her smile congealed, then disappeared altogether. Her eyes turned hard as glass. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s my brother. The one in Pennsylvania—”

“I didn’t figure it was the dead one.” Her tone sounded flat.

“Levi got hurt,” he explained. “Fell off the roof of his new house or something and broke some ribs. He needs my help. He’s just bought a farm in Promise, and it’s time to prepare the fields and begin planting. If the work doesn’t get done, he won’t be able to make a living this year.” Samuel shrugged a shoulder. “So I’m going out there to help.”

Andi narrowed her eyes. “You told me neighbors help neighbors. So let ’em.”

“I need to be there.”

She crossed her arms over her stomach, pushing her breasts higher. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?”

He felt his heels sinking deeper into his decision.

She stepped back. “How long will you be gone?”

“Not long.” He looked over at a barbell lying deserted on a mat, the way he’d abandoned the truth. His own reluctance to share his hopes and plans brought back a memory. He’d stood at the end of Jacob’s bed as his brother had packed his own bag so many years ago.

“New Orleans isn’t so far,” Jacob had offered as a consolation.

At fourteen, Samuel had resented Jacob’s ability to take off for parts unknown. Sounding even younger with his voice cracking, Samuel asked, “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve read all about it.” Jacob slapped a hand against Samuel’s chest, then grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll come back.”

He had, yet he hadn’t. The Jacob who had returned to his family months later had been different. And their lives had never been the same.

He sensed similar emotions now. Whatever awaited him in Pennsylvania would change him irrevocably. From the look in Andi’s eyes, she understood that too.

She drew a deep breath as if fortifying herself. She’d told him of breakups she’d experienced in the past. She wasn’t the type to give her heart easily, and she protected it with a vengeance. He could see her rebuilding the walls even now, protecting herself. “You’ll forget all about me. Hey, maybe I’ll forget about you too.”

“Never.” He reached for her, and she tried to tug loose, but he was stronger and pulled her close. Still, she remained stiff and unresponsive in his arms. He tipped her head back and stared deeply into her eyes, seeing the green spiked with bits of gold and brown all swirled together. “I love you, Andi.”

It was the first time he’d used those words, and he meant them. He loved her. But words held little meaning for her. She’d told him enough about her past, her parents, and ex-lovers for him to understand actions spoke much louder than even he could shout. He regretted the words even now. Not that he didn’t believe them or feel them in the very beat of his heart, but because those were the last words her father said when he left Andi and her mom—for good.

Her wounded gaze skittered away, and her mouth tensed. So he kissed her as hard and as long as he knew how, trying to express all the things he couldn’t say. When she began to soften beneath him, he pulled away. “I can’t promise you anything, Andi. Not now. Not yet. I don’t know what my future holds. But I want…I hope—”

She touched his lips with her fingers. Tears glimmered in her eyes, but she blinked them away and backed out of his arms. “Shut up. Just go.”

Chapter Ten

The sky remained a dark gray, clouds blocking out the stars and moon, and the air felt still, as if it held its breath—waiting.

Andi too was in wait mode. Waiting to hear from Samuel. Waiting to find out if he’d ever return. And she hated waiting.

As a girl, she’d watched her mother waiting on the couch, arms and legs tangled in knots of worry, as she waited for her latest boyfriend to come home. But first, she’d waited on Andi’s father hand and foot, fetching a bottle of beer out of the fridge when he snapped his fat fingers, washing his stinking clothes, which he never bothered to put in the clothes bin, and playing the little wife every chance she got. Vicki Mitchell waited on her man when he went to work, on the rare occasion he did. And she waited on him when he went out with the boys for a beer and came home smelling of whiskey and cheap perfume. Then Vicki waited for him to come home one last time, after he tossed over his shoulder, “Love you, baby.” But he never darkened her door again, and Andi had known he never would.

Well, Andi wasn’t like her mother. She wasn’t the waiting type.

She slammed the door to her apartment, not bothering to lock it, and threw her bag and keys on the coffee table. Samuel could go off to who the hell cared where, but she was not going to sit around waiting for him to come back. No, sirree.

Stalking into the bedroom, she refused to look at the bed—the mussed sheets, which hung off the mattress, and the note he’d left that morning. She stared in the bathroom mirror and stripped off her work clothes, scattering her warm-up suit, then stood under the hot shower spray. The loofah scrubbed and scratched at her skin, as she rubbed it over every inch of her, chafing away the memories of his touch, punishing herself for caring what he did or where he went. She was a fool. Just like her mother.

When she couldn’t scrub deep enough to erase his memory, she shut off the water, batted away the shower curtain, and tramped into her closet, dripping water on the carpet. She chose her sexiest outfit with the skimpiest neckline and shortest skirt. First went the thick lotion, next extra sprays of Juicy Couture, then a thong, and finally the stretchy dress fabric over her bare skin. Towel-drying her hair, she shaped the curls with her fingers, leaving it in sexy disarray. She drew heavy lines around her eyes, as if the black liner could make it look like she hadn’t shed one tear, then she smeared her lips with gloss.

If she had looked through the mirror to her heart, she might have seen a lost little girl, pretending not to care. “It’s okay, Momma. We can help each other.”

“Shut up. You don’t know nothin’.”

But now, Andi didn’t bother with self-help talk. She slipped on five-inch heels and walked back into the den, where she came to a sudden stop.

A dish towel partially hid a book on the kitchen table. Samuel’s book. Red, hot rage rumbled deep through her and then erupted in a blast of quick, jerky movements. The book hit the wall, splatting onto the carpet, splitting the spine and twisting pages. She gave it an added kick, and her shoe bolted, knocking into the television. Teetering on one heel, she gasped and sputtered and fought the tears until she wrestled them back under control and forced them into that deep, dark, secretive place.

Brushing chaotic strands of hair out of her face, she stood in the living room of her apartment. Silence beat against her ears. A new eruption followed, not as violent as the first, but an eruption nonetheless. She kicked off her other shoe, gathered up the book, and shoved it into a grocery bag. Dumping it at the door, she drew a steadying breath, readjusted her skirt, shoved her feet into her shoes again, grabbing the wall for support, and hooked a lock of hair behind her ear.

There. That was good. She’d toss the book in the Dumpster. Then she’d go have a drink. Or two. Or ten.

She breathed easier now, expanding her lungs and drawing in the promise of hope. Her life wasn’t over. So what if Samuel had left? Who needed him? There were plenty more men out there, just waiting for a chance to meet a woman like her. She’d be more particular this time. She wouldn’t get some stupid farm boy. No way. She’d find a man, a real man, a grown man, who wore a dignified suit. Maybe one who worked in a bank. One who made lots of money. Somebody who knew how to treat a woman.

Buying into that hope, she grabbed her keys and snatched up the book. But she bypassed the Dumpster. What would be the point? Samuel wouldn’t know if she threw it away. Or care. Worse, he’d never do that to her. With a heavy sigh, she reconsidered her initial plan. What she loved…liked about Samuel was that he always did the right thing. And the right thing to do was return the book to the library. Yes, that’s what she would do. Tonight. Then she’d move on.

The drop-off box at the library had cones blocking the lane, so she parked and carried the book to the return box. She held open the latch, placed the book in the opening, but couldn’t release it. For one long moment, she clung to the book as if it was all she had left of Samuel. Maybe she should keep it, just for another couple of weeks, in hopes that Samuel would return.

But then she’d be waiting for him.

“How’d the book work for you?” a male voice said, startling her.

She spun around, the slot clanking at her quick release. Pressing the book against her abdomen, she stared at a guy not much taller than her. He stood near the driver’s door of a Ford pickup truck. “Do I know you?”

“You’re Andi, right?”

Her gaze narrowed. Her heart thudded. Had this guy followed her from the club?

He didn’t advance toward her but kept several feet between them. Slowly, he flipped a set of keys around his index finger. He kept his gaze on hers, not looking down the way most men did. Maybe he was gay. He had that buffed and polished look. “Don’t worry, you don’t know me,” he said as if he’d read her mind. “I only know about you because of Samuel.”

Samuel
. He knew Samuel? She released a pent-up breath, but her brow remained puckered. “How do you know him?”

“I was helping him do some research here at the library.”

“I see.” A nerd, but a nerd who knew Samuel. And a decent looking one at that. “I’m not sure if the book helped or not. Samuel had to leave town.”

“Good thing about the library, he can always check ’em out again.”

She didn’t care. Yet she held on to the book and walked back toward her car, fingering her own set of keys. Maybe this idiot could be upbeat about the whole scenario but she couldn’t. Not yet.

Then he stood beside her, not brushing against her, not touching her in any way, yet there. Only slightly taller than her, he still outweighed her by much more. Not that he was overweight. She could see the bulge of muscle through his shirtsleeves.

“I’m Brydon, by the way.” Up close, he had a nice smile, straight teeth, and decent clothes. For a nerd. “Let Samuel know that if he needs anything else…”

But she blocked out the rest of what he said as an idea occurred to her. The book she carried turned out to be about laws. Written by someone named Crowley. Was this a business book? A judicial one? Why was Samuel reading this? The cover looked worn, the text and binding from another time, and yet it appeared from the plastic-coated cover as if few had checked it out. Not a bestseller. When she’d first gone out with Samuel, he hadn’t been much of a reader. Why now? Did it have something to do with his dead brother? If there was a trail, then maybe she could follow…or even lead, if she could figure out what he was searching for.

The librarian took a step toward her, and she gave him a slow once-over meant to intimidate. He had a way of standing, a slouch really, dipping one shoulder as if he didn’t have much confidence. She suspected he was harmless. “Maybe we could both help Samuel.”

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Do you know anything about this, Bryon?”

“Brydon,” he corrected her, emphasizing the last syllable. “I might.”

“So you wanna have a drink and discuss it?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “What’s in it for me?”

“We’ll figure something out.”

Nodding, he said, “No use taking two cars.”

She gave him her most beguiling smile. “I’ll drive.”

A few minutes later, the silence in her Toyota Yaris was unnerving as she felt Brydon’s gaze stuck on her—even when she jerked the wheel and switched lanes. Nervous, she stirred her thoughts for something to say. Just above his collar peeked the jagged edge of a white, lumpy scar. “What happened to your neck?”

Only then did he look away from her. He rubbed a hand over it. “Car accident.”

“Some accident.”

“You should have seen the car.”

Awkwardness unsettled her stomach. She punched in a CD to fill the silence and “Stairway to Heaven” blared from the speakers. She gauged his reaction. Samuel had never particularly liked her taste in music, but Brydon kept time, thumb against thigh.

“You like Led Zeppelin?” she asked.

He gave her a sly smile. “Did you know there’s a connection—” he thumbed toward the backseat—“between the band and your book?”

“My book?” In the rearview mirror, she couldn’t see the book on the seat. But its presence loomed, filling the spaces in the car with shadows. “It’s not mine.”

“There’s still a connection.”

BOOK: Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel
2.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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