• Nineteen •

“Who made you cry?”

Capri

Nine Years Ago

My mother was never going to let me live my own life. She was determined to control everything. My feet pounded on the pavement as I ran along the path that circled the lake at the park. The rage and frustration burning inside me felt as if it was going to drown me. I’d had to get away from that house. From her. Running was my escape.

I wished I’d been able to go away to college. Get distance from her, this town, the church. She did not understand that I had no desire to be her. I didn’t want the life she had for herself. It was boring and tedious just to watch it. Much less live it. My dad seemed to get that I wasn’t like her. Or like him. The church wasn’t my future. Sure, I’d attend to make them happy, but I didn’t want my world to revolve around it.

There was a world out there I wanted to see. I wanted to explore. Taste foreign food, learn another language, have a passport full of stamps. Yet every time I took a step in any direction other than one she deemed appropriate, she stood in my way. If that didn’t work, she got nasty.

Today, she’d done the latter. I’d saved fourteen hundred dollars over the past seven months with full intentions of moving into an apartment of my own. I had made sure to find a place that I could afford, that I had enough money to cover first and last months’ rent, pay to have my utilities turned on, and that my income could handle the monthly bills. I had even met with Mrs. Bellhaven, the landlord at Baystreet Apartments. She’d shown me the available studio apartment that was up for rent, and I had signed the paperwork and handed over my debit card to secure it.

This morning, I had walked into the kitchen, fully prepared to tell my parents. I was going to tell them last night, but I left work and went directly to a babysitting job. When I got home, they were both in bed. What I hadn’t been prepared for was my mother already knowing. But how was I to know my mother would run into my new landlord? Mrs. Bellhaven didn’t attend our church. She was Presbyterian. Furthermore, she was twenty years older than my mother. They did not run in the same circles anywhere.

My eyes stung as I circled the far corner of the lake. I had been so close, and she’d taken it all from me. Not once allowing me to explain, plead my case, anything. She’d told me that when Dad got home from work, we’d discuss my punishment. I wasn’t a child anymore. How was this cause for punishment?

Reaching up, I wiped at the tear that had broken free and slowed my pace, wanting the peace that came with the secluded area on this bend. If I was going to cry like a baby, then at least I could do it in private. God knew if someone saw me crying, they’d call Momma, and I’d get in trouble for that too.

I was a legal adult. How did she get to just take my money from Mrs. Bellhaven and cancel a lease her name wasn’t on? That just seemed wrong. It was unfair, and she had told me she wasn’t giving me my money back until I was mature enough to handle it. That was my hard-earned money.

A small sob filled the silence, and I wiped my face off with both hands this time.

“Running always make you cry?” a familiar deep voice asked.

I spun around to see Thatcher Shephard leaning against a tree only a few feet from me. Where had he come from? I’d been running out here for over an hour and not seen him once. How had he suddenly popped up way down on this end of the lake, where there was no way he could get here without being seen walking this way?

He stuck a cigarette between his lips and flicked the lighter in his hand. I watched him inhale and puff as he held the flame to the tip before closing it and slipping into his pocket. Those dark eyes never once leaving my face. I didn’t feel like breaking down into a fit of sobs anymore, but my chest was all weird and fluttery.

“Tell me, little doll,” he said, then took the cigarette from his mouth. His eyes were almost black now as he narrowed his gaze. “Who made you cry?”

I blinked, reminding myself to breathe. He was just very distracting. I needed that right now. If only he could come home with me and distract me from the life I was being forced to exist in. The idea of taking him in my house caused a laugh to bubble out of me, and I covered my mouth to muffle it. He was going to think I was insane. Running and crying, now laughing. Maybe I had lost it. My mother had been the cause of my mental break. I could see that happening in the future if I didn’t get out of that house and out from under her thumb.

He raised an eyebrow as he placed the cigarette back between his teeth.

I cleared my throat. “Sorry. I must look crazy. I just … thought about something, and it was funny.” I shook my head. That hadn’t made sense at all.

“I’m listening,” he drawled.

I glanced around, mostly so I didn’t ogle him like a weirdo. “Where did you come from?” I asked him, wanting to change the subject.

“Hell,” he replied. “Now, answer my question.”

I stared back at him, and his eyes held me there. It was a simple question—or so it would seem to anyone else—but telling someone like Thatcher Shephard that my momma controlled my life was humiliating. I licked my lips, wishing I had some better answer. One that didn’t make me sound so pathetic.

I decided to answer the reason I’d laughed instead of explaining why I had been crying.

“I was thinking about the fact that you seem to show up when I need a distraction, and then I thought about needing a distraction from my mom and taking you home with me. Seeing her face …” I trailed off then, not sure I should have said that either. “I mean, my mom is just real religious, and she’s a gossip, so she would think—I mean, she’d—I didn’t mean for that to sound so offensive.” I was rambling, trying to make this better. My entire face had to be as red as an apple.

“Doll, if your momma liked me, then I’d be offended,” he replied as the corner of his lips quirked, like he just might smile, but didn’t. He shoved off from the tree he’d been leaning against and took a few steps closer to me. “Who made you cry?” His tone dropped a notch, and the threat in it made me tense.

Why did he care so much? What was he gonna do, go take up for me like he had at the ice cream shop? My stomach turned as I thought about why those guys would never bother me again. I tried not to let my head go in their direction. Dad was right, and bad choices caused tragedies. It wasn’t my fault.

The way he was studying me so intently made me believe he wasn’t going to let this go. I had to make something up that was half truth and half lie. I didn’t want him to know how sheltered I was. It was too embarrassing to think about.

“I’ve been working a lot to save up so I can get my own apartment. I thought I had found one, but turned out, I didn’t get it. That one was the only thing available that was in my budget.” There. That was the truth. I’d just left out a lot of details.

He took the cigarette from his mouth and let out some smoke as he glanced back toward the park, then at me. “You’re ready for freedom, I take it? Done with living in the minister’s house?”

I nodded, feeling the heaviness settle back over me again. He had no idea how done with it I was or how smothering my mother could be.

“That’s the only reason you’re crying?” he asked me.

The urge to blurt out the entire truth to him was tempting. I wanted to. I wanted to tell him everything, and if it wasn’t that his older, sexy, possibly dangerous guy would think I was pathetic, then I would. But I liked him showing up in my life. It was always brief, but it made the bad stuff fade away. Which was ironic since most people I knew were terrified of him.

Instead of spilling my guts, I just nodded.

He smirked, almost as if he didn’t believe me. Was I that bad of a liar?

“All right then,” he replied, dropping his cigarette to the ground and covering it with the toe of his boot. “If there is no one I need to kill, I’ll leave you to your run.”

I frowned as he turned and walked away, but not toward the park. He walked to the woods behind us. Had he come from the woods? Was that why I hadn’t seen him? But why would he have been in the woods?

Better yet, what I should really be questioning was … had that been a joke? The killing someone thing? Yeah, it must have been. He was probably making fun of the fact that everyone in town thought he’d murdered a guy or that his family was in the Mafia.

The little house was perfect. I stood outside in the front yard, smiling like an idiot. This could actually be where I lived? I shook my head in disbelief.

Please, God, don’t let me wake up and this be a dream. I was going to be really upset if it was.

And it was three times the size of the studio apartment I was going to pay three hundred dollars more a month for. That seemed very unreal.

“Just need you to sign here,” the older lady who had shown me the house said, holding out an iPad toward me.

The lease. She wanted me to sign the lease. I had to get my money back from my mother first. I couldn’t pay for this without my money. I couldn’t lose this house.

“Um, Ms. Ma—”

“Maeme. It’s just Maeme,” she replied with a kind smile.

I liked this woman. I had no idea how she’d found out I was searching for somewhere to live or how she had gotten my number, but I was thankful. But that oddity also made me fear this was a dream. How had a deal like this just fallen in my lap?

“Maeme,” I corrected myself. “This house is amazing. I would love to lease it, and I can afford it. But I need to go get my money back first. My, uh … well, I have it, but my mom is holding on to it. As soon as I get it from her, I can pay this month and of course the deposit or last month’s rent—whatever is required. Just … could I get it to you later?”

Maeme held out a set of keys to me. “Take the keys,” she said. “When you are ready to move in, give me a call. I’ll stop by with the lease for you to sign. No rush.”

If I wasn’t asleep, I was hallucinating. I held out my hand, and she dropped the house keys into it.

“Those two keys are to the front and back doors. The smaller one is for the bolt on each door. Now, there is a locked metal door you’ll find behind the house on the other side of the porch if you go looking. But it’s covered by a rose bush for the most part. It’s got some paints for touch-up in the house, maintenance equipment, and the like. There ain’t a key to unlock it. It’s not available for use. Inside, there is a similar door that will be locked up. Just more maintenance equipment. But everything else will be yours.”

I nodded as my fingers wrapped tightly around the freedom in my hand.

“I … thank you. I am just … you don’t know,” I gushed, not finding the right words to say. “Thank you,” I finally blurted. It didn’t feel adequate enough, but I didn’t think there were words that would be.

Her gaze softened. “I’m happy to help. This house needs a tenant, and you need a house. It helps us both out.”

I thought about pointing out that there were tons of people who would pay double what she had quoted me for the monthly rent. But then maybe she didn’t know that. A sick knot formed in my stomach. What if she thought this was the best she could get for the house? She wasn’t old as in elderly, but she might not be savvy with money or finances. Could her husband have passed away, and now, she was left dealing with things and didn’t know the money she was losing by leasing me this house?

My buoyant mood fell. That made more sense. This house wasn’t a stroke of luck for me. This sweet lady just wasn’t aware how much homes rented for these days. She was dressed well, her hair was in a stylish bob, and there were diamonds on her fingers and her ears. She’d been taken care of by her husband. Now, she was trying to navigate this new life.

“I’m sorry, Maeme,” I said, trying not to show the disappointment on my face. I didn’t want her to feel bad about this. “I should tell you that you can rent this house for three times what you are asking. I can’t pay that, but there are many people who can and will. You’d have it leased today in fact. I could pay you three hundred more a month, but I can’t in good conscience lease this house from you. Not when you could make at least seven hundred more dollars a month on it.”

The older lady chuckled and patted my arm. “Oh, honey. It ain’t about the money. You’re right. It would lease out for much more than I’m quoting you. But I don’t want just anyone living here. This house needs a good tenant who deserves it. That’s why I called you.”

Again, how had she known about me? I’d been so excited about the idea of somewhere else I could live that I’d not asked her.

“And how did you find out about me looking for a place?”

If eyes could twinkle, then the woman’s eyes just did. I blinked and stared at her, wondering if I’d imagined it.

“Those of us in real estate in this town talk. Word got around.”

Oh no. What if it was Mrs. Bellhaven? What if she told my mom? I had to warn her about my mother, but then she might think I was a bad kid. She wouldn’t lease it to me if she thought my mom didn’t approve.

I opened my mouth to attempt to explain when my phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket to silence it when I saw my mom’s name on the screen. Crap! Not what I needed. I hit Decline and looked back up at Maeme when it started to ring again.

Dang it, Mom!

I forced a smile at Maeme, wishing she’d leave me alone for five minutes.

“Sounds like someone needs you,” she said, glancing down at my phone.

The fact that she’d more than likely saw the words Birth Giver on my screen made me cringe. I pressed Accept quickly, hoping she’d not had time to read it or that her eyesight wasn’t good. Both of which I highly doubted.

“Hello?” I replied.

“WHERE ARE YOU?!” she shouted into the phone, and I winced. There was no way Maeme hadn’t heard her.

“I had some errands to run,” I explained.

She was going to ruin this for me. Dread pooled in my stomach. I was going to be living with my mother for the rest of my life. I’d never get free.

“Stop whatever you are doing and come get me! I am stranded at the service station off I-20!” she said frantically.

She was often dramatic, but this was over the top.

“Okay. I’ll come get you, but where is your car?” I asked.

“It’s gone! I went inside to use the restroom and get a Diet Coke. Then, when I came back, it was just gone!” she cried.

I gaped. “Someone stole your car? Did you leave the keys in it?”

“NO! I did not leave the keys in it. I locked it up. I don’t know how they got into it. But it is gone, and your father isn’t answering his phone. The police are supposed to be on the way, but they’re taking forever. Just come here, so when I am done with them, I can leave,” she wailed hysterically.

“Yes, of course,” I told her. “I’m on my way.”

“Hurry!” she shouted, then ended the call.

I glanced back to see Maeme typing away on her iPad.

She looked up and smiled. “Seems everything is set and in order. You can move in when you’re ready. Just give me a call when it’s a good time to sign the lease,” she said, then started for her Mercedes.

“Thank you,” I said again, still struggling with all that had happened in the last thirty minutes.

She turned to look back at me. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I’m the one who should be thanking you,” she replied, then winked before continuing on to her car.

She was right. That didn’t make sense to me at all. But right now, I had to deal with my mother, who was not going to want to talk about giving me my money with her being in a frenzy over her car. Working around that was going to be an issue.

I’d go to Dad alone if I had to. He was more likely to understand and agree with me.

My mom’s car had been left in the church parking lot with all four tires slashed. No other damage was done. Whoever had broken into it hadn’t left a scratch or broken a window. Dad thought she’d left it unlocked and hadn’t meant to. The cops believed since it had been returned to the church, whoever had taken it knew whose it was and did it as retaliation for something. My dad had fired the construction crew he’d hired for the addition to the church when they continued to be late or not show up. Church members were disgruntled that it was taking so long with little progress.

Both my dad and the police had concluded it was the construction crew, but they had no proof or witnesses. Not even the security camera at the service station had it. One minute, Mom’s car had been there, and the next, it was gone. The police said the recording had been spliced.

As crazy as all that seemed in a town like Madison, where things rarely happened, my dad had handed over all of my money that my mom wouldn’t return to me and told me not to tell my mother where it had come from.

I decided if the minister told you to lie, God was good with it.