Текст книги "Deliver Her from Evil "

Автор книги: M. L. Steinbrunn

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Campbell

I shoot a text to Jen and settle back into the sofa in the lounge area of the bridal shop. That girl is notoriously late; she’s lucky we love her anyways.

“What did she say?” Vivian asks as she sits next to me and rummages through her giant mom bag. “I don’t know how long they’ll hold our appointment,” she adds when she finds her lip gloss and lathers her lips in shimmer.

Standing next to a rack of fluffy bridesmaids dress, Carly pulls one off the rack and holds it up to her frame. “Why don’t we just start picking things out so she has some options when she gets her?”

Olivia pulls down a dress for herself, ripping it away from the hanger. “Ohhh, pretty, Momma,” she says, rubbing the silky fabric between her petite fingers.

“Liv, honey, look don’t touch. Let’s put it back on the hanger,” Carly patiently reminds her as she takes the bridesmaid dress from Olivia’s hands and places it back on the rack. I’m zoned into the interaction between the two when my phone vibrates in my hand, alerting me of a text message.

I casually look down, expecting Jen’s name to flash across the screen, but instead Lakin’s is there.

“Is that Jen?” Vivian asks, attempting to peer at the message. “Tell her to get her ass here pronto.”

When she looks at Carly to apologize for her foul language, I try to hide my phone as nonchalantly as possible. I can feel my face flush and I take a deep breath to compose myself. I swipe the lock screen and the text brings a smile to my face.

Lakin: Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you. Have a good day with the girls.

“Well? Is she almost here?” Carly inquires.

“Um, yeah, like fifteen minutes away,” I lie. She rolls her eyes and goes back to searching through the racks of dresses. Vivian then stands and catches up to the sales woman who is supposed to help us today.

I direct my attention back to my phone and hover my fingers over the keypad to send a message back to him, unsure of what to say. My phone buzzes again before I get anything typed.

Lakin: Dinner tonight.

Me: Shouldn’t you be working?

Lakin: Avoidance, just like that, huh?

Me: I’m proficient at only a few things, avoidance happens to be one of them.

Lakin: I’d say you scored advanced in many categories last night.

Whatever flush I had before, is now flaming red. My ears are on fire from the embarrassment his words provoke. My eyes scan the boutique, pinning the location of everyone, making sure my conversation isn’t discovered.

Lakin: Dinner, it wasn’t a question. I’ll see you at 7, Cam.

I can’t help but grin. This man has turned everything upside down. He goes against everything I tried to protect myself from, but I’ve found him to be the hardest thing to resist. Lakin has aggressively pursued a relationship and I have aggressively avoided one. But no matter how hard I struggle out of his grasp, he’s captured me and claimed my heart. My fear of him letting go of us is stronger than anything I was ever afraid of before him. I let my heart lead, and type the words it demands.

Me: See you then.

Lakin: Nabac dom gan, mo ghrá.

And there it is, the affirmation I needed…‘forget me not, my love.’ He gave me the necklace last night, but it’s tucked into a pocket in my purse. I feel it beckoning me to put it on, those words calling to me, but I’m not brave enough to wear it. Not yet.

Commotion at the store entrance pulls my attention away from my thoughts of Lakin. Jen’s voice reverberates through the establishment. She has no concept of the other people in the store. Today is her dress day and apparently, everyone at this bridal shop needs to be aware of that fact. It’s Jen’s world and we are just living in it.

“Sorry, I’m late, girls!” she shouts from across the store. Carly’s eyes widen and she ducks behind the rack next to her in mortification. Vivian bows her head and shakes it, acknowledging Jen’s antics will never change. An engagement, kids, none of it has mellowed our spunky spitfire.

“Jen, there is a store full of other people, and their day is getting messed up by your entrance,” I say, hushing her.

She looks around and scrunches her face in understanding, but then shrugs her shoulders and moves closer to us all, pulling us each in for a hug. Yup, teachable moment is over and forgotten.

“I had to drop off the kiddos with Casen and the guys so we could just have us girls today,” she says before turning to Carly and Olivia. “I thought this was an adult day?” she adds pointedly at Carly.

Carly diverts her eyes. “I didn’t have childcare. I thought it would be more important that I was here with Olivia, than not at all.”

“I call bullshit,” Jen responds quickly. “You know Casen, Brooks, hell any one of the guys would have watched her today. I’ll let it slide, chica,” she says, pointing her finger at Carly. “But you better arrange a sitter for my bachelorette party. It’s all planned…Vegas, baby,” she says, nodding her head at each one of us, grinning widely.

“No way, not happening,” Vivian interjects. “I have four children, including an infant. There is no way I can run off and leave Brooks with the kids all weekend.”

“What do you mean? Brooks is coming too. It’s a joint bachelor-bachelorette party!” Jen exclaims.

“Did you sustain some kind of brain injury on the way here? What in the world would make you think we can all just drop everything, including our children, and run off to Vegas?” Carly asks. “Besides, the wedding is several months away, why have it now?”

Jen looks to me for my opinion, and I know she’s not going to like my answer. When I stall in my delivery, her brow scrunches in disappointment.

“Please, you guys. I feel like we are all getting so wrapped up in our individual lives. Our men, our kids…” she looks to me and adds, “our careers.” She grabs my hand, her eyes pleading with me. “I just want one weekend for us, like old times. In college, we didn’t have to give a shit; we had no responsibilities. We only had to worry about ourselves and each other. I want that again for just one weekend.”

I search each of my friends’ expressions. They are all looking to me for direction on this one. “Fine,” I say, exhaling loudly. I look at both Carly and Vivian. “It’s one weekend. Fly in Friday, be home by Sunday, surely we can pull that off.”

“I’ll have to talk to Brooks, but I’m sure between Katie and our parents keeping the kids, we can go,” Vivian resigns.

Carly nervously bites her lip, unsure of what to do or how to respond to her friends. Her expression is pained. I know she doesn’t want to let anyone down, but she also doesn’t want Jack to think she’s not being a good mother either. That’s exactly what he would think of her if he found out she ran off to Vegas for the weekend, bachelorette party or not.

Vivian must sense the same uncertainty I am, because she quickly offers an out for her mental indecision. “If Jack isn’t around to keep her, Olivia can always stay with our kiddos. No one will mind a bit.”

Carly’s body relaxes and her frown softens into an easy smile. “Thank you for that, Viv. If it isn’t a bother, I would rather her go with you guys than Jack. I really don’t even want him aware of the trip. He’ll only make a big deal out of it.”

Vivian tilts her head, reading between the lines. “How’s everything going with Jack? Is he making everything more difficult?”

I look around for Olivia to make sure she’s outside of earshot. She doesn’t need to hear the verbal bashing that her father is about to receive. Carly, I can see, is thinking the same thing because she doesn’t speak until she confirms Olivia is too far away and too engrossed in the dresses she’s looking at to hear the conversation.

“You know at first, he tried to make me feel stupid, like it was nothing and I just misunderstood an innocent friendship. He insisted the vasectomy was his way of taking the pressure off of me to have more children, so we could look into other options like adoption. He wanted us to go to counseling and work things out,” she explains.

“Bullshit. There is no mistaking what we saw on that video,” Jen insists.

She is absolutely correct. The video I gave Carly was edited. There was plenty more to show if necessary, but I felt that was enough to give her the push in the right direction. I didn’t need to shove the affair in her face; she saw what she needed to.

“I agree. He’s just trying to take advantage of my emotions, and if he really thought he could talk his way out of any wrong-doing, then he must have never had too much respect for me, or my intelligence, in the first place.”

“Fuck him,” Jen spouts off. Vivian immediately glares at her and then searches the store for any eavesdropping ears. When Carly shows offense for her use of language, Jen relents and apologizes.

“Yeah, well, once he realized I wasn’t going to take him back, he’s gotten rather nasty about things. He criticizes me any chance he gets. He tries to guilt me into thinking the divorce is my fault because we had a less than stellar sex life. That I’m homely and I’ll never find any other man, so I might as well come back because he’s the only one who would be all right with the way I look.”

Her shoulders sag, and it’s evident this man has completely torn down every bit of her self-confidence. I maintain a cool demeanor; however, I want to hunt this man down and make him pay for ever hurting my friend this way. After I’m done with him, he’ll regret ever treating a woman this way.

“I’m going to kill him,” Vivian steams, her rage rolling off her. She is typically the most sensitive, caring woman, but if her fiery temper flares, Hell hath no fury.

“It’s fine. I get that I’m not much to look at right now. I’ve been in mommy mode and let my appearance go,” Carly tries to explain her mom jeans, lack of make-up, and pony tail, but I think there is more to it than that. She’s always been the self-conscious one in the group. She’s curvy in a way that men usually love, but the average female hates. While she hides her figure because she’s insecure, men drool over her cleavage and bubble butt. She has no idea how truly beautiful she is, and it sounds like Jack helped to trap her in that box of self-doubt.

“Well, girly, we are going to fix this situation, ASAP,” Vivian declares wrapping her arm around Carly’s shoulder and giving her a light squeeze.

“What do you mean?” she asks, bracing for the devious plan Vivian and Jen are obviously hatching.

“We love you, chica, and you’ve got a lot to work with.” Jen waves her hands around Carly’s body, highlighting her assets. “But I’m thinking at little less Ally Sheedy from the Breakfast Club and a little more hot momma from the burbs.” Jen circles her hands around Carly’s mess of a hairstyle. I cover my mouth to hide the small laugh that escapes my lips. Jen has absolutely no filter, but in this case, it’s our job as friends to help Carly make the transition into single life again. How the girls at her spa haven’t gotten a hold of her, I’ll never know, but the girl needs to be dolled up a bit.

“You know, Jen, just because you add an ‘I love you’ at the beginning, it doesn’t make your comment any less insulting,” Carly huffs and plops herself next to me on the couch.

“Sorry. It’s just that, well…” She stalls, collecting her thoughts. “I always say the best way to get over a man is to get under another one. I’m your friend and you need me to help get your mojo back, whether you think so or not.” Jen looks to Vivian, who is one step ahead and is on her phone booking an appointment with her salon for Carly. “We are going to have you so smokin’ that you will be the object of every man’s affection in Vegas. You will have your pick!” Jen lightly claps her hands and bounces on her toes in excitement.

“The last thing I need is another man,” Carly declares. “I just want to feel better about myself, and I don’t need a man to do that.”

“Maybe not, but you do need a little hair product,” Jen laughs, attempting to pat her hair down. “Girl, you are one hot mess right now.”

Carly swats Jen’s hand away and looks to me seeking I don’t know what…approval, maybe a safety line, neither of which I’ll give her. Instead I offer a smile and the only words that make sense. “It’s time to find our Carly again.”

She understands and smiles back, a smile we haven’t seen from her in years. “Okay,” she murmurs.

Vivian tapped on her smartphone and throws it into her purse. “All done,” she announces. “You have an appointment at my salon. We will have you all fixed up and feeling good in no time.”

Lakin

I don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve the life I have now, but I’m guessing I was some awesome kind of dude. Success in school and business have always came easy for me, and in the women department, well, I never had any issues. However, I had never upgraded any of those exchanges to relationship status. They were exacting that…exchanges. Somehow, though I have found myself in a relationship I never thought I wanted until I met her, and I couldn’t be fucking happier to be tied to her. Campbell is everything I never knew I wanted.

Tonight is going to be a first for both of us.

I told her to wear a pair of her most comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. I refused to tell her where we were going so she was a little apprehensive. As I pulled up to her apartment to pick her up, though, she bounded down the stairs in the attire I requested with a bright smile ready for whatever I planned to throw at her.

“I was going to come up and get you,” I say as I open the passenger side door for her. Shit, I’m trying to be Prince Charming here, and she stole my thunder. This is a date after all.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly. “I’m just so excited. You have been very elusive about what we are doing tonight.” She kisses me on the cheek and settles into her seat. I pause momentarily, letting her affection absorb into my skin, savoring every second of the feeling.

I rub my hand across the skin that her lips touched, before making my way back around the car, and sliding into the driver’s seat. I look at her once again before throwing the car in drive and speeding out of her building complex.

I smile to myself as she stares out of the window.

She’s right. I have given her absolutely no clues about tonight and I offer nothing more on the way to our final destination. The traffic is heavy and as we approach the swarms of people crowding the downtown streets, I assume she has figured out where we are going. However, as we pull into the stadium, I realize this really is a night of firsts.

“Wow, is there an outdoor festival or concert or something going on?” she asks. “The streets are packed.”

“No,” I chuckle. “There is a Rockies game tonight.

“Oh, I don’t really follow basketball,” she shrugs.

My head whips around to looks at her. Did she really just say that the Colorado Rockies were a basketball team? I shake my head and laugh.

“Baseball,” I simply say.

“Same difference,” she says nonchalantly. “They are both played with balls.”

I now remember why I’ve never taken a woman to a ballgame. Unless they can truly appreciate the game, the most fun they have is during the seventh inning stretch when the crowd sings “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” I’m hoping that this brilliant attempt at a fun date, doesn’t completely crash and burn.

I find decent parking near Coors Field and we briskly follow the crowd. I thread my fingers with hers and lead her along the sidewalks, weaving around the people lingering on the path. It feels good to have her tucked into my side. If I have my way, it’s a place she’ll never leave.

It isn’t until I’m handing our tickets to the gate attendant that she puts it together.

“Do they have other events here or are we actually going to the game?” she asks, not exactly thrilled at her prospects for the evening. “You know I know nothing about sports, right?”

My smile widens. Tonight is going to be so much fun. This is her first baseball game and will be a night neither of us will forget. I don’t answer her, instead, I pull her toward our seats before she can change her mind about our evening.

I usually watch the game from my company’s box seats, but tonight, with Campbell in tow, I bought tickets along the third baseline. I want her to experience the game as a true fan would. Mingling with the crowd, the smell of the beer and hotdogs, taking part in the wave, she needs to be immersed in the action.

We find our seats and I immediately flag the guy selling beers.

“I know you’re not much of a drinker but baseball games and a cold one kind of go hand in hand,” I explain as I hand her the plastic bottle of beer. She nods and offers a tight smile, before taking a small, sampling of the ale. I know that is probably the most that she’ll drink of it, but it is still worth the eight bucks even if she just holds it all night.

Her unease at the situation is evident. Campbell likes having the upper hand. She like being prepared for any situation. Baseball is not her cup of tea, and there is no way that she can fake it.

“We are here to have fun together, Cam. I could give two shits whether you know anything about baseball. We are here for the experience of the surroundings, and to enjoy each other’s company, that’s all.”

I place my hand on her knee and gently give it a squeeze until I see her relax and smile. Apparently, that’s all that needs to be said. By the second inning, she is shouting at the umpires, referring to them as zebras…yeah, wrong sport. She is high-fiving all the fans in the general vicinity any time one of “our guys” as she refers to them does something “cool looking.” Any other woman, and I probably would have excused myself to the bathroom and hightailed it out of the stadium, but Campbell has made this night something to remember. Here I thought I would create something special for her, and all the while, she has done that for me.

“Travelling!” she shouts when the player on first attempts to steal second.

“That’s basketball,” I laugh. “It’s called stealing, not travelling,”

“Well damn, we may need to go to a basketball game next, because I sure know a lot of basketball lingo. I’m like the sports whisperer.” She laughs and the sound is so contagious, that I can’t help but join in.

I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her to me until I can nuzzle into her neck. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to, Cam,” I murmur against her delicate skin. “As long as you know you can’t get rid of me.”

The crack of the bat connecting with the ball sends the crowd around us to their feet. A roar of cheers makes it impossible to hear her, but her actions speak louder than anyone around us.

Pulling away from me, she momentarily searches my eyes. Grabbing my t-shirt and twisting the collar in her grip she smashes my body to hers. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says against my lips before she takes complete control and crashes her lips to mine.

If I ever had any doubt that Campbell would follow through on this new journey we have set course on, it evaporated in that moment.

She was mine, and for the first time ever, a woman has been able to say with certainty that I was completely hers.

Campbell

In light of everything that has gone on, Jen’s idea about taking a mini Vegas vacation doesn’t seem so bad, even if it’s a bachelorette party. Everyone has been preparing for the weekend that is supposed to surpass all weekends. I’ve stayed grounded though, wrapped in the reality of the present.

Since Sharon died, Evan has called or texted nearly twice a week, making sure I’m okay. I think more than anything, he just wants to hear a friendly voice that cared for his mom as much as he did. It took a while, but I’ve finally come to terms with her passing. I’ve spent a large amount of time either with Lakin or at the foundation. I’m hopeful each time I’ve been back that I will run into Leah again, but I have yet to see her.

While Lakin gave me the file on Leah the day Sharon died, I haven’t been able to bring myself to look through it. I guess I’m hoping she will tell me her story herself. That, or I fear what I might find will open old wounds. Those wounds have long ago scabbed over, but I’m still waiting for the scars to fade.

I don’t dig into my past often, but somehow this girl with just one meeting has brought it all back.

When I first arrive at the foundation, I walk down the hallway through the administration portion of the building. Vivian’s office door is open, but she isn’t in it. I step inside, take Leah’s file out of my backpack, and lightly lay it across Vivian’s desk. It’s thick, the manila folder barely able to hold the papers within it. Without even looking inside, I know she either has been in the system a long time or has had several placements.

I slowly roll the chair from the desk and slide my body into the seat. I inhale deeply and release every bit of air in my lungs before I flip open the front cover of the folder. If anyone was walking by at that moment, they probably would have heard the sound of my heart cracking into shattered pieces and would have seen all resemblance of bravery spilling out onto the paper.

I attempt to read the first page, but as my eyes scan it, the words blur with tears. The red ink in large print at the bottom, reads loud and clear though:

PARENTAL RIGHTS TERMINATED. AVAILABLE FOR ADOPTION.

In the six years she has been in the system, it looks as though Leah has had multiple placements. She bounced from foster home, back to her mother, and then back to foster homes over and over again until last year when her mother’s rights were finally terminated by the court and she was placed in a group facility.

There are no reports of sexual abuse or even physical abuse. She was removed from her mother’s care because of neglect. Documentation outlining a life with drugs in the home, her being left alone for days, weeks at a time, even a lack of food in the house filled the file. There lacks detailed explanations for the multiple placements, nor are there details as to why reunification with her mother did not work after so many years in the system. Those specifics will have to come from the caseworker or Leah herself.

After reading what is available, though, I want, more than ever, to find this girl and help her, if I can. There have been moments when I thought, I could be this girl’s mother; I could take that on. Reality sinks in though, and I know that just isn’t possible. My job has me constantly on the road in and out of bars half of the year, touring with bands. This girl needs a family, a real mom that is present. She needs someone who can help with homework and teenage drama, and that’s just not me.

I close the file and stuff it back into my backpack. I envision letting her shred it or maybe burning it one day, just like I wish I could have with my own file. I know these are just pieced together copies of the original file, but it still would mean something to see it buried.

Standing, I sling my bag over my shoulder and make my way down the hall toward the commons room where I first met her. Every time I’ve been back, I look to the couch, hoping to see her there reading poetry, but over and over again I’ve been disappointed.

The room is crowded with kids, and the smell of sweaty teenagers from the summer heat hits me. Denver has a mixture of schools, which vary from year-round to traditional schedules, so even though it’s the middle of the summer, some of them will be working on assignments for school, while for others, the school year is a distant memory.

I walk directly to the sign-in sheet at the front desk. My finger scrolls down the list of names and I’m met with disappointment when I reach the end of the list without coming across Leah’s name. I exhale my frustration and turn to the kids in the room to see where I’ll be most helpful for the afternoon.

Then I see the flowing locks of blonde hair that I have been so eager to see again. Sitting in the same spot as before, Leah is stretched out on the couch, hoisting up a mammoth of a book: The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe. Her brows are drawn together, deep in thought, and I smile to myself at the scene before me.

“It’s been I while,” I say as I approach her. “I hoped I would find you here, and with a book on Poe is an even better surprise.”

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes, which she hurriedly wipes away. She doesn’t want me to see her weakness, but it’s too late. It was there; I saw it.

“It took a while before I could get to the library, and I wanted to have this book before I came here again. You know, in case you were here,” she explains. She clears her throat to rid herself of the emotion that overtook her, but I can still hear the slight tremble in her voice.

I take my seat next to her and change the subject as not to bring attention to her obvious discomfort and my intrusion of her personal moment.

“I’m glad to see you here again. I have to admit, I was happy to see that book in your hands. Are you enjoying it?”

She runs her hand across the pages she was just reading, and lets out a sigh. “Yes,” she says looking down at the book. “It’s like the words are speaking to me, and well, some hit a little too close to home.”

I peer over to look at the page and read the passage that she has lightly starred with a pencil.

“The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?” I read aloud and nod.

Leah takes a ragged breath and searches my eyes. She’s looking for a safe place, a safe person, to share her secrets, and I try to convey that I understand her struggle. I, too, have felt the pain of this world.

She begins to speak, but the words lodge in her throat and she stammers for a moment. “After my father left us, my mom just gave up. There were times she tried, but her pain was too great. She used to say the drugs helped her forget her loss, helped her not feel. No matter how many times I was taken away, I tried to do things to find my way back to her. I didn’t want anyone to want me so I could be with my mom.”

A tear escapes her eye and slides down her cheek, and this time she’s slow to wipe it away.

“I ran away more times than I can count. I really thought I could take care of her, but I could never fix her. There were times when she would take off and I found myself alone…scared….hungry. I wasn’t sure if she was alive or dead. There were times, I didn’t care; I just wanted it to be over.”

I move closer to her on the couch and reach my hands out for her to give me the book. She hands it over willingly and I turn the pages to the poem I want to share with her.

“There was a time when I had no place to go,” I tell her. “No one to run to.”

She tilts her head, confused by my admission.

“My parents died when I was little and there was no one,” I clarify. “I was alone. Then, just before I graduated high school, I met a family that made a home for me. I was never adopted, but I found a home nonetheless. Now, I have managed to create a family for myself, with those I surround myself with. I guess you could say I was blessed to get to choose my family.”

I hand her back the book with the page of the poem open for her to read. I point to a line and she reads aloud. “Never to suffer would never to have been blessed,” she whispers.

Her eyes don’t move from the page; she lets the words settle on her, sink into the fabric of her identity. “I figure if I hadn’t experienced the pain of my past, I would never have been able to appreciate the gifts I have in my present,” I murmur. “Do you think you’re ready now to accept what the world could offer for you?”

She doesn’t hesitate; her head snaps up and her eyes meet mine. “Absolutely,” she says confidently. “I know I’ve missed my chance for a family, but someday I would like to create my own, just like you did.”

“It’s never too late, Leah. You just haven’t met the right people yet. I promise to help change that.” I know I’m breaking a huge rule here; I should never promise something I may not be able to follow through on. I need to make her believe she hasn’t experienced the hell she has for nothing, though, that there are great things in store for her and she will be loved…like all kids should be.

I pull out my phone and scroll through the numbers until I come across the number I’m looking for. A person with the biggest heart I know, someone who would care for this child like her own, and who deserves a happily ever after just as much as the girl sitting next to me.

Leah scowls, the line between her brows creating a deep divide. “I’m starting right now,” I tell her with a smile and stand from the couch. I raise my finger to Leah to stay put as I walk away from the couch. The phone rings and I hold my breath, waiting for her to finally pick up.

“Hey, Cam. What’s up,” she says cheerfully through the phone.

A rush of air leaves my body as I try to steady my voice. I don’t usually ask for much from these girls, but in this instance, I’ll be asking for everything.

“Can we meet?” I ask. “There is something important I want to talk to you about.”

“Sure,” she says. “The plane for Vegas leaves in the morning; how about we meet just before?”

“Thank you. See you in the morning, Carly.”