Fire In The Water Chapter Five

Ward

After that exchange, I was good and pissed for the rest of the day. Walking home in the rain didn't help my temperament, and I had to take Heidi out in that shit, too. Sitting on the floor of my tiny mint green bathroom, I scrubbed her fur with a towel and bit back tears. Sensing my emotions, Heidi bumped against me, pushing her head up under my chin. I wrapped my arms around her and held on.

“It’s just you and me, girl.”

That had always been enough, but today that solitude came back to haunt me. Knowing what I couldn't have, what had been stripped from me—what I’d stolen from myself with past mistakes—it ate at me.

Croft’s sold a few books, but it struck me as blasphemy to buy from a chain store when there was a perfectly good small business within walking distance selling better choices. If only there was a day when Bella wouldn't be there, then I could take the coward’s way. But I was certain that wasn't possible. 

So instead of reading, I discovered the yogurt wasn't half bad. There were thirty-two stripes on the coverlet over the bed, sixteen each of blue and white. For dinner, I fried up the veggies I’d purchased and added some rice and a scrambled egg. Saturday night took too long to stretch into Sunday morning, and only a few of those hours allowed me to sleep. My brain repeated my mantra of not getting close to anyone, no matter who they were.

I’d made that mistake before, and it had cost me everything. Trusting the wrong people had invited trouble, and I’d dug so deep I couldn't find my way back out. The money, and the fear in people’s eyes when my name was spoken, it lured me. I never asked what was in the envelopes I delivered, and I didn't care. Hit orders? Laundered money? Sure, send it my way. I could be trusted to keep my mouth shut and not break the seal. My conscience remained clear as I rationalized I wasn't the one selling drugs. I was the embodiment of the sunk cost fallacy. As deep as I'd dug my hole, as hard as I'd worked to not only survive, but thrive, I thought my best option was to stay the course. 

And yet, none of that stupidity had been my downfall. My code of honor had fucked me, and I’d taken the loss with my arms held wide. Punishment accepted; fate forever changed. My spot in the organization was guaranteed to wait for me until I was free once again.

What I hadn't counted on was what it looked like on the inside. The Volturi name only carried so much weight, and being the dumbfuck who got caught—rather than the patsy set up to take the fall—didn't garner the respect I thought it would. Fighting for my life every day in a minuscule cell wore me down. Men who would sooner kick you in the balls than look you in the eyes became the norm; guards and other prisoners alike. Nothing like the streets I’d conquered, nothing like the old neighborhood where everyone followed the same rules. I’d suffered more than I could speak about in that place, and they’d finally broken my spirit. When the deal came down, freedom in exchange for snitching, I had only taken the time to contact my lawyer before accepting.

The fact she was also my sister weighed on me.

Beth expected me to live with her. To get out of Storm Cove Penitentiary and move in with her and her husband, playing happily ever after with a target on my back. I didn't think she understood the danger I’d placed us all in. Instead, I fled in the middle of the night, leaving only a note of apology and the contents of my bank account as a thank you for saving my ass. All I’d brought with me was a few hundred dollars. Enough to rent a pitiful existence and to feed my dog until I could earn a paycheck.

I was acutely aware I was living on borrowed time. So when a beautiful shop girl and her clever cat wooed me, I knew I had to make an about-face and head in the other direction.

It sucked. 

When the men who used to call me brother tracked me down, I was a dead man. That was what I carried with me, and I knew it before I moved across the country. I knew when I brought my girl Heidi with me for company, despite realizing it made me weak. I knew when I got the job in the fish processing plant and accepted cash under the table. There was no way to un-know something; the truth was the truth, regardless how much we sometimes might wish it otherwise. 

And so, knowing my days were numbered, my only goal was to live life until that option was taken from me. 

Back out on the street heading to work, I made certain to pay attention to my surroundings. Only fools allowed themselves to become complacent. The early hour mixed with the fog rolling in off the bay, and the buildings loomed ethereal as ghosts. The sonority of the waves was buffered at this distance, but the ocean mist suffocated me with its tender kiss. Bricks above me and cobblestones below me, roses beckoned, and my feet carried me of their own accord. Empty of life without the woman within, volumes wrapped in colorful ink dared me to come closer. 

There was some small, shameful part of me which knew I could break in, steal a book, and leave no trace of my existence behind. The last vestiges of my morality urged me to carry on, face the day at work, and continue flying under the radar. My knuckles berated me for not taking better care of them, but I hadn't found anything other than regular lotion to treat them. Despite the gloves Peter provided, my hands were constantly wet and covered in slimy salt. When I met my boss at the entrance to the warehouse, I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet to rally my mental state and prepare for the day ahead. 

Day in and day out, the job never changed. It was exhausting but mindless. Since I didn't want to let my imagination wander to things it had no business focusing on, I sang under my breath or tried to remember the plot of movies I'd seen. At midmorning, Emmett came in with a canvas bag in his hands, breaking up the monotony. 

"Wife said to give you this."

"What is it?" I asked warily, squinting at him.

"Don't ask me."

Accepting the bag without looking inside, I set it as far from the yuck under my table as I could. "Tell her thanks."

"I will."

Awkwardness concluded, I held up the processed fish for his inspection. 

"Perfect, thanks. Will we see you again soon?"

"Yeah, actually." Shifting my feet, I wriggled my toes in my boots to encourage circulation. "Your produce is awesome."

"I'll tell Ro you said so. See you later, Ward."

I managed to wait until the end of my shift, washing my throbbing hands before picking up the bag. It was the kind with their store logo, which Emmett said they sold after giving the first one for free. Stepping out into the sunshine of just past one, I scrounged in the bag to see what Emmett's wife had given me. 

I could suck it up and say I understood everyone's need to help everyone else in this town. Admitting that I was cheesy enough to feel warm and fuzzy about some of them accepting me as their fellow citizen didn't make me a wuss. 

Accepting their gossiping about me was a harder pill to swallow. 

Finding a larger tin of the goat's milk hand cream Bella used only made me feel appreciation for Ro McCarty. She was looking out for me, and it was nice. 

But pulling out two paperbacks—one a mystery and one a police procedural—pushed my blood pressure to the limit. 

Marching the multiple blocks to Bookish, I strode through the open doors and directly up to the counter. 

"Do you think it's acceptable to run your mouth about me to everyone you know?"

With a steady gaze focused over my shoulder, Bella stepped out from behind the counter. "Are you ready to check out, Maria?"

Feeling like a fucking idiot, I moved aside so Bella could ring up the customer I'd interrupted. Mostly, I wanted to bolt back out the door, tuck my tail between my legs, and pretend nothing had happened. 

"Have a great day, and do come again."

As a brother and son, I recognized that tone of voice. 

"Well, let's have it, then. What are you accusing me of, exactly?"

The sight of her arms crossed over her chest nearly made me change my mind about the entire discussion. Unfortunately, I’d charged in like a bull and now had to finish what I’d so foolishly started. "Why did Emmett McCarty bring me a gift from his wife that conveniently included books from your store?"

"I'm only speculating here, but it could be because he's not an asshole."

"You told one of them about our last encounter, didn't you?" How I’d tried to buy a book and nearly broken my skull after letting my distrust get the better of me.

Her brows lifted, and her mouth curled in a sneer. "Are you saying I'm a gossiping harpy?" 

That was clearly a trick question. "Not exactly, but how did she know I wanted books and didn't get any?"

"You know." As she moved forward, her hands gesturing wildly, Charlie decided it was best to disappear under a bookshelf. 

Lucky bastard. 

"For someone who doesn't know me," she continued, "you sure don't mind jumping to conclusions."

"Explain it some other way, then, Bella!"

"Rose hasn't had time to come into my shop in ages. Same with Emmett. So maybe she gave you what she already had because she's a lovely human being who wants to welcome you to our town."

Her voice had risen, her chest heaving over her rapid heartbeat. A lesser man would've cowered. As it was, the temptation to concede nearly lured me out the door.

"All I know is that each time I see someone, they know more about me than I do."

"Word travels, sure. For instance, Alice talks about how sweet you are. But I've yet to see it, Ward."

"I don't—"

"All I've seen is your back as you run from me."

Fucking Christ.

"Now you come in here accusing me of being a manipulative shrew when I've been nothing but nice to you."

We stared each other down as the clock tower on a church chimed the half hour. "I got it wrong, and I apologize."

Turning on my heel, I escaped the mess I'd made. Showing her my back, as she'd correctly accused. 

There was no possibility of making her understand. Avoiding her at all costs was the best solution. Why it couldn't be that easy was obvious; fate enjoyed dry fucking me. 

I went home, walked Heidi, had a shower, and ate lunch. Couldn't get the image of Bella out of my mind. Guilty feelings built, spread, engulfing me in their grip. Here I was fucking up my plans; whether or not they were best laid, they were about to go to waste. 

By the time I stepped back through her doors, the chalkboard sign sat just inside the store. Bella looked up from the handful of books she re-shelved as I kept coming toward her, despite the heavy glare she aimed my way.

"Oh, my God, if you're here to—"

I cut her off, aligning myself along her body and pressing her against the shelf. "Shut up."

Her eyes sparked. "Don't tell me to shut up."

Feather-light, I framed her jaw with my outstretched hand. Her pulse thrummed, and she swallowed, head tilted so she could meet my gaze. “If you don't shut up, I can't do this.”

Leaning forward, I exhaled a breath, rustling the hair curling along her throat. Finally, she dropped the books, brought her hands up, and hesitantly gripped the back of my shirt.

A pain-filled groan rose inside me. I knew better than to take, than to even assume I had the right. What could I offer? Nothing but heartache. Misery. 

My heart was loud in my ears, but I manned up and touched my mouth to hers. 

Cinnamon burst through my senses, stinging my lips. Lightning zinged up my spine to settle at the base of my skull. Eyes open, we tasted each other with the barest touch. As someone who used to consume high-dollar bourbon whiskey on a regular basis, I could confirm Bella tasted better. She was a unique blend of toffee, honey, cinnamon, and vanilla cream. Bottle it and sell it, or keep it for myself, I knew I would never be the same after just one drop.

With a shaky breath, I pulled back. "Sell me a fucking book."