Yesterday's Tomorrows (12 page)

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Authors: M. E. Montgomery

BOOK: Yesterday's Tomorrows
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17
Maddy

R
ed
and white flashing lights and blaring sirens roared past me as I left the Laundromat. The smell of smoke carried on the slight breeze, so I knew they must not be going far.

My steps staggered to a halt as I rounded the same corner the trucks had taken moments earlier. I couldn't believe what I saw as I slowly approached the building I now considered home. But the pungent smoke that burned my nostrils confirmed what my eyes were telling me – my apartment was on fire.

Shock and disbelief swept through me only to be replaced by what was best described as grief. I dropped my basket and clasped one hand over my mouth and the other around my stomach as I thought of all the people who might be losing everything they owned as they watched as helplessly as I did. I didn't have much, but everything that had been purchased and donated to create a home for me, not to mention the few items I scrimped and saved for, was probably either now a pile of ash or a soggy mess, and the thought of that made me sick. I was momentarily frozen in place, unable to take my eyes from the scene.

I was suddenly engulfed by strong arms and pulled against a large body. Panic paralyzed me before my adrenaline surged. I flailed my arms and kicked my feet and squirmed as hard as I able before I realized that the owner of the body was calling my name and had released me, except to support me by one of my elbows as I nearly spun myself to the pavement.

"Madelyn. It's me."

"Holt!" I regained my balance and slapped one hand over on my chest as if I could hold my heart from beating out of my chest. "Do you have a thing for scaring the life out of me?"

"You?" he sputtered. "Where the hell were you? I was terrified something happened to you when I couldn't find you, and...and..." He dragged a hand through his hair, which looked like he'd done it several times before now.

"I needed to do laundry, so..." I shrugged and turned back toward the commotion.

"This late at night? And you were walking alone? Again? " Holt's mouth dropped open. "What kind of fool are you?"

"Apparently a homeless one," I mumbled. He was right. It had been reckless of me, but at the time, I hadn’t been thinking about anything but the envelopes in my basket. Looking at my apartment building, maybe that careless decision had saved my life.

"Oh, fuck, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I just..."

His endearment caught me off guard. Judging from the dazed look on his face, I don't even think he was aware he'd used it, but it didn't stop him from reaching out and pulling me close. "I'm glad you're okay," he rumbled in my ear. "It seems I'm always apologizing to you." He took a step back from me and his eyes burned into mine. "But please, don't go out walking alone at night again."

I nodded, uncertain what to make of his sudden affectionate nature, but his arms provided a safe shelter against all the crazy, and I couldn't deny myself, enjoying the knowledge that someone had cared enough to search for me and make sure I was safe. For so long I'd only been able to depend on myself, and for a few minutes, I wanted to let go of it all and have someone else carry me, no matter how temporary it might be.

"Come on." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me toward one of the crowds. "They're trying to account for all the residents. We need to make sure they know you've been found."

I whirled around to face him as a new thought overwhelmed me. "Oh, my God, Holt! Did everyone get out?"

His eyes were solemn. "I'm not sure. Let's start by making sure they know you're safe."

I nodded and he steered me through the crowd that had gathered. He appeared to know where to go as he led me to a group where I recognized a few of my neighbors. The reality of the danger set in as I witnessed people in various states of dress and their distressed faces. The fire was mostly concentrated on the floor and side where I lived, but I was sure all of us would be searching for a new home until the entire building could be fixed and made livable again. Hopefully, most people didn’t lose all of their belongings.

While I'd met a few of my neighbors, I wasn't close to any, except maybe Serafina. I wondered if any of them had even noticed I wasn't among them, wondered if any of them had raised the alert that I was missing. Once again the concept of being alone in the world gripped me. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around myself and stepped closer to Holt, who looked down at me.

His arm tightened around my shoulders. "It will be okay."

I heard him, but I wasn't sure I believed him.

He flagged down a woman with a Red Cross logo on her jacket. I watched his lips move as he spoke to her, but it was like was watching everything from a distance, all my senses working, yet feeling numb at the same time. She wrote something down and glanced up at me. I stared at her, fascinated by how her face was constantly changing colors - blue, white, red, dark, blue, white, red, dark...

"Madelyn?" Holt's gentle shake finally snapped me back to awareness of the flash of red and blue lights, the rumble of engines, and the shouts of the firefighters as they called out to each other.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

She must have picked up on the shakiness of my voice because she waved to someone and a blanket appeared within seconds, which she shook out and handed to me. I didn't bother telling her that cold wasn't the reason I was shaking. Holt must have understood; he draped the rough blanket around my shoulders and then wrapped me in his arms. I rested my head against his chest and watched as the fire was slowly brought under control.

"I asked if you have anywhere to go tonight." The Red Cross worker tried again.

I shook my head.

She nodded. "That's fine. Not to worry. We're setting up a shelter for tonight where you can shower and sleep, and then we'll help you make other arrangements."

"No need. She'll stay with me, starting tonight." Holt's chest under my ear vibrated with his words.

I looked up quickly at him. "Um, I'll be fine. You don't have to do that." We'd come a long way, but being alone with Holt, in his home, made me nervous.

He looked back down at me. "It's not up for discussion. You need a place to stay, and what I can offer is better than a cot in a room full of strangers."

I opened my mouth one more time to voice a protest.

His voice was firm as he cut off any further arguments. "Unless you have somewhere else to go, end of the discussion. And don't say the McCloskeys, because they aren't home."

At first, I bristled at his take-charge manner, but not having any other realistic choice, I nodded. Besides, isn’t that what I just thought I wanted? Someone to take care of me for a change? I relaxed in his arms and gave in to the need. I just wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to let go of it; it felt too good.

Holt gave the Red Cross worker all of his contact information which she jotted down and then left to see to another couple standing a few feet away. The fire was contained, but there was no way anyone was going to be allowed back into the building tonight.

Holt took my elbow and guided me through the maze of emergency vehicles still hogging the street. His truck finally came into view. He helped settle me in the seat, blanket and all, and strapped me in with the seatbelt as if I was a child. I didn't have the energy to protest, still numb from everything that had transpired over the past several hours.

The ride to his apartment was mostly quiet. I wanted to ask Holt how he learned about the fire and why he came to look for me, but he seemed a little preoccupied.

Probably already regretting his offer. I'm sure he had better plans than babysitting me once again.

I rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes. I sensed him periodically glancing at me, but I didn't acknowledge him. I was overwhelmed by everything that had transpired today. It was all I could do not to raise my fist to the sky and scream in frustration. Why did the fates seem to be against me? How many times was I going to have to pick myself up and start over?

Warm fingers rested on top of mine. I cracked open my eyes and watched as his strong fingers worked to unclench and entwine with mine.

I looked at our clasped hands and thought how small and pale my hand looked in his larger, more tanned one. We were opposites in so many ways: he was well-educated, successful, confident, and came from a loving family; I had a high school diploma which I earned from a prison cell, had no promising future, and no matter how much I tried to pretend otherwise, I was a broken piece of the girl I used to be, and that wasn't saying much. And now I was homeless.

Despite his polish, I sensed something broken in him, too. Ever since that night he'd followed me and shared a simple dinner in my apartment, our relationship had shifted. Both of us had alluded to cracks in our lives that if explored too far might split wide open, leaving us raw and exposed. I had a feeling we’d end up either completely breaking each other or filling in the cracks. The question was, could we do one without the other?

Despite the chill of the evening, the knowledge that Holt cared enough to search for me, the relief I heard in his words and saw in his eyes when he found me, warmed me in a way I hadn't felt in a very long time. Maybe he was he was filling my cracks without too much damage. I just hoped he didn’t cause new ones to form. Everyone I ever cared about eventually left me, and I wasn’t sure I could take any more loss.

"It will be alright, Maddy. I promise." His voice sounded strong and secure, but unless he could wave a magic wand and make the mess in my life disappear, they were empty words.

"I wish I believed you," I whispered.

I withdrew my hand and placed it on my lap and closed my eyes again, but not before I caught the frown on his face.

18
Holt

I
ushered
Maddy into my apartment and dropped my keys on a table tucked into the small vestibule in the entranceway. She stood motionless a few feet inside with her arms still clutching tightly to the blanket the Red Cross volunteer had provided her. I was worried by how vacant her expression appeared.

She had to be in shock. She'd had one hell of a week, that was for sure. The repairman, Misty, a lunch mishap, and now the fire. I moved past her and grabbed two whiskey glasses and poured a generous finger's worth of Scotch and a splash of water into each. I set them on the table next to the couch and went back to stand in front of her.

"Maddy?"

Her eyes, more muted than I'd ever seen them, looked up at me.

"Come and sit down." She nodded and sat on the edge of the cushion with her head bowed to the floor and her hair falling around her face. There was no point in denying how much seeing her appear so vulnerable affected me. It made me want to hold her tight and try to fix everything for her.

Instead, I settled for pressing the glass into her hands. "Take a sip, sweetheart."

As if on autopilot she moved the glass to her lips and took a gulp. Within seconds she was coughing and sputtering, almost spitting out the liquid that cost me nearly two hundred bucks a bottle.

She glared at me. "What the hell, Holt? Are you trying to poison me?"

I smiled as the familiar green flared in her eyes. "No. If I were, I'd have chosen something cheaper than good Scotch to do the deed."

She stared suspiciously at the tumbler in her hands. "Ugh. No wonder I don't drink alcohol."

"I'll have you know that's some of the finest whiskey Scotland has to offer. Try again, only this time, sip it slowly."

I swallowed my laugh as she stuck her nose in the glass and sniffed the contents then once again lifted the glass to her lips and swallowed a small amount. She closed her eyes and drew some deep breaths and tilted her head thoughtfully. "It's really warm going down." She sipped some more. “Maybe it’s not so bad after all.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as the color returned to her cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispered.

I started to shrug but froze as she placed a hand on my arm. "No, I mean it, Holt. You always seem to show up when I need someone. I know I haven't been easy to get along with all the time, but thank you for being here for me."

"I
am
here for you, Maddy. I know we got off to a rocky start, but…"

My sentence trailed off; I wasn’t ready to share how much she’d come to mean to me. She nodded. We both knew our relationship had shifted that night at her apartment, even if we couldn’t put a name to it.

Her fingers relaxed on the glass she was clutching. She looked around my living room.

"Your home seems nice, Holt. You have good taste."

I glanced around and tried to see it from her eyes. The room was decorated simply with brown leather furniture, a few tables and lamps, and a large television, all my work. My mom and sister, who’d shaken their heads at how ‘unhomey’ it was, had done the rest. The walls were a warm shade of light brown, and there were a few pictures on the walls and bookshelf, as well as a red and blue oriental carpet under the coffee table. A few plants scattered around added a little more life, as long as I remembered to water them.

"You sound surprised."

She gave me a half grin. "Well, maybe a little. Sometimes you come across sort of uptight, always sort of proper. So I guess I imagined something modern and cold, maybe more black and white with straight lines, I guess." Her cheeks pinkened, and her eyes looked a little sheepish. "Sorry."

Uptight and proper? Oh, baby, if you only knew how hard I'd come earlier imagining it was you sucking me, you wouldn't think so.

I laughed. "Don't be. If it had been left up to me, the walls would still be white, and I'd have a couch and a television with a lit-up beer sign for decoration. But my mom and sister were determined it needed to look more like a home. I think they were worried I'd get depressed again if it was too drab and dreary."

"Again?" She lifted an eyebrow at me.

Shit. She would pick up on the word that had slipped out
.

I shook my head. "Never mind."

I had to work hard not to squirm as she eyed me thoughtfully, but she didn't pursue her questioning. Instead, she stood, dropped her blanket and moved across the room behind me as if something had caught her eye. I couldn't help but admire how cute she looked in her large sweatshirt that slid sideways, exposing a creamy shoulder. Even though I could only see a white bra strap, I found it way more inviting than Michelle’s black bra earlier. It left me wanting to explore and discover what lay beneath Maddy’s shirt, rather than knowing ahead of time.

Remembering the woman I’d ditched earlier, I felt a pang of guilt. Not because I’d left her, or even because I’d basically used her, but because I was with her in the first place.

She picked up something and looked over her shoulder. "You were in the military?"

"The Marine Corps."

She turned to face me with wide eyes. "But, doesn't this mean you were wounded?" She held up the case that held my Purple Heart and more significantly, my Navy Cross.

I nodded but didn't elaborate. It represented a dark period in my life, and I would've shoved it in a drawer, but my mom had insisted such an honor shouldn't be hidden.

"Wow, Holt. Just wow." Her lashes blinked a little faster. "I'm not sure what to say other than thank you for your service." She studied me for a few seconds. "You are okay, now, aren't you?"

Not as okay you might think, sweetheart. I thought I was...but you're making me rethink it.

"Mostly. Can I get you anything?"

"Aha. Using that deflection technique I taught you, huh?" She winked at me.

She was so cute when she was a little sassy. "Hard to teach the master, baby. Seriously, can I get you anything, something to eat, maybe?" I started toward my kitchen, hoping I didn't embarrass myself by not having anything edible in the cabinets or fridge.

"I'm fine, Holt. Actually, I'm a little tired. It's been a long day."

A quick glance at the clock told me it was almost midnight. Looking closer at her, I saw dark shadows under her lashes and stress lines creasing the skin around her eyes and mouth. She must be exhausted. "Of course, I'm sorry. Let me show you around your new home, at least for the time being."

I pointed out a few essentials including the guest bathroom, made sure she had towels and guided her to my extra bedroom. "I'm across the hall if you need me," I said. "There are spare toothbrushes in your bathroom." I held up a finger as I thought of something. "Hang on a sec."

I dashed to my room, grabbed a couple of items and came back. She was still standing where I'd left her, the dazed look back on her face. "What's wrong?"

Her chin quivered. "I...I..."

"Maddy?" I took the two steps from the doorway to stand in front of her and clasped her forearms.

"I...I don't even have anything to sleep in. I've really lost everything, haven't I? Again. Even my laundry. I dropped my basket with all my clothes, and the letters, and...and my book—“

"Oh, baby. Not everything." I tucked a finger under her chin. "You haven't lost me. I promise I'll do whatever I can to help you through this. And I know the McCloskeys feel the same way. We'll get you more clothes and books. And here," I showed her the t-shirt and boxers I'd grabbed from my room, "I'd already thought of something to sleep in. It's my softest and most favorite one, so no keepsies." I grinned, trying to tease her out of her funk.

She burst into tears instead.

Well, fuck me. I'd meant my words to comfort her. Instead, she unraveled right in front of me. Sighing, I pulled her close and her slight form collapsed against me, shaking from the force of her tears.

I scooped her up, sat on the bed, and leaned against the pillows. I held and rocked her as she cried. Her hand clenched and unclenched the fabric of my shirt. She tried to be so strong all the time, so it didn't surprise me that when she broke, she broke hard. I continued to hold her until her hand relaxed and her sobs turned to hiccups, which turned to occasional little gasps, and finally soft, deep breaths.

Long after she was asleep, I still held her, struggling to understand why this broken woman who had nothing but a felony to her name was somehow managing to restore the very piece of me I thought was irreparably beyond repair.

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