Waiting for Sunrise: Baytown Boys Series Page 16

  Belle’s face glowed in the sunlight, taking his breath away. She turned to him, her smile beaming, and said, “This has been the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “The sunrise?”

  She shook her head slightly and corrected, “You and me together…at sunrise…on the beach.”

  He wrapped his arm around her and they embraced as the sun continued to rise in the sky, sharing a kiss as gentle as the dawn.

  20

  “How’s it feeling?”

  Hunter watched Dr. Caldwell walking over and standing next to the physical therapist who had been massaging his leg.

  Nodding, he said, “Better…surprisingly better.”

  “Good, good. These exercises will strengthen the area that was affected by the scar tissue. As they stretch, you will find less pain. Are you sleeping at night without any pain medicine?”

  Holding back a grin as he thought of his nights with Belle, where he fell into a peaceful sleep after exhausting himself making love, he kept his expression neutral as he simply answered, “Yeah. I’m sleeping fine.”

  “Good, good. Well, Phil will keep seeing you here for another few weeks and then we’ll discharge you from physical therapy and have you on a consultation basis. You can always come back as needed.”

  Shaking Dr. Caldwell’s hand, he continued his exercises with Phil. He found out his therapist had been in the Navy also, many years before. The barrel-chested man with a grey, high and tight haircut worked him hard, but as they talked, he found the time always passed quickly.

  As he stood at the reception desk, making his next appointment, he heard the front door open and recognized Lionel’s greeting to the receptionist. Keeping his head down, he took his appointment card and turned to leave. Catching his eye, he grimaced as Lionel shot him a smile.

  Ignoring him, he walked outside, only to find Lionel had parked his delivery van next to his motorcycle. He swung his leg over and settled into the seat, hoping he would take a long time in the clinic, but his luck did not hold out. Before he had a chance to leave, Lionel came out, walking straight toward him.

  “How dumb are you?” he asked. “The last thing we need is to be seen together.”

  “And here I was, wondering how dumb you are.”

  Growling, he reached down to start his motor, but Lionel was not finished.

  “Heard you got some attention the other night.”

  Staring at him with a hard glare, he said nothing.

  “Mr. Uptight himself, Police Chief Mitch Evans?”

  “None of your concern. I had some fuckin’ trash to take out. Made my statement to the trash and it’s done.”

  “Yeah, well you gettin’ on the radar of the town police isn’t smart.”

  “Don’t tell me how to run my life—” he bit out.

  “And you just remember who’s fuckin’ in charge.”

  Fighting back his response, he kept quiet, his jaw ticking with anger, watching with unease as a slow smile crossed Lionel’s face.

  “Hate to think that pretty nurse you’re banging would have a problem—”

  He moved faster than the weasel had a chance to react and cut his words off. Off his motorcycle, with his hand at Lionel’s throat, he pushed him back against the truck as Lionel clawed and grasped. As Lionel’s face turned red, he leaned in close.

  “You don’t look at her. You don’t talk to her. You don’t talk about her to anyone. I hear you even fuckin’ breathe in her direction, you will stop breathin’ free. You got me, asshole?”

  Still struggling to get loose, Lionel gasped, “Yeah, yeah.”

  Letting him go, he watched as Lionel slumped against the truck, his hand at his own throat as he sucked in air. He lifted his eyes to Hunter’s but said nothing.

  Moving back to his motorcycle, he roared out onto the street, his mind racing. This has got to end. I’ve got to end this now.

  Belle walked down the hall of Careway, escorting a nervous Mr. Rasky to the activity room. “You’ll be fine,” she assured, smiling down at the man who was slicking his hair back with his hand.

  “Is my face okay?” he asked. “That new aide doesn’t give as good a shave as the one who left.”

  “Yes, yes, you look wonderful. Ms. Betina will be impressed, I’m sure.”

  “Hmph, who says I’m doing this for some woman?”

  “Oh, I’ve seen the looks the two of you have given to each other. Anyway, she asked if you would sit next to her during Bingo today, so that’s kind of like a date.”

  “Women don’t ask men for dates,” he continued to grumble.

  “They do nowadays,” she assured. “And admit it, you wanted to sit next to her.”

  Just then Hunter walked around the corner and Mr. Rasky called out to him. “Mr. Simmons.” Gaining his attention, he asked, “Do you think a woman should ask a man out?”

  His eyebrows rose as his gaze darted between the older man and her smiling face.

  She leaned forward and whispered, “Ms. Betina asked him to sit with her during Bingo. Mr. Rasky is going, but feels the need to grumble about it.”

  “I do not,” the older man continued to grouse. “I just don’t want her to think I’m easy.”

  Her giggle rang out in the hall and Hunter grinned. “Well, sir, I’d have to say that if a nice, pretty woman like Ms. Betina expressed an interest, then you should take her up on it.”

  Mr. Rasky cast his sharp eyes between her and Hunter and said, “Don’t think you two are sneaky. I’ve seen the looks you’ve given each other too.”

  She blushed and Hunter laughed. “And if she asked me out, I’d definitely say yes.”

  Leaning back in his wheelchair, Mr. Rasky allowed a small smile to play about his lips. “Well, good. Shows you got sense, boy.” Looking up at her, he said, “I’ll find my own way into Bingo. I don’t need a chaperone.” With that, he continued wheeling himself down the hall.

  She turned to Hunter, but her smile died as she observed the expression on his face. “What’s wrong? Is it your leg? You had an appointment this morning…did the physical therapist work you too hard?”

  Hunter both loved and hated the concern she was showing. “No, no, it’s good.”

  Just then, his radio sounded and she reached out to touch his arm. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Count on it, babe.” He watched her walk down the hall and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Checking his radio, he headed to Mr. Weldon’s office.

  An hour later, he wiped his brow as the sun beat down on him. Standing on the roof, he ascertained that a professional roofer would need to be called to patch a possible leak. The only section of the roof that had shade was near the back, where a few taller trees cast a shadow over the edge. Walking there, he sat on an upturned bucket and pulled out a bottle of water from the pocket of his cargo pants. Guzzling the tepid drink, he sighed heavily, his mind on Lionel’s threat.

  Hearing the sound of a truck, he glanced over the side and watched as the man in question drove his pharmaceutical van to the back door. His anger peaked again, but as the back door opened, he watched with interest at the person who came out and began to talk to him. Stunned at the blatant audacity, he continued to observe as Lionel reached under the seat of his van and pulled out a packet, handing it to the Careway employee.

  He recognized the same type of packet that had been placed in his locker and realized he was looking at the person dealing the drugs from the nursing home. Swiping the sweat from his brow, he pulled back out of sight and considered what to do with that information.

  Near the end of his day, he walked into the staff lounge and opened his locker. There, tucked in his jacket pocket, was the packet. Handling it carefully, he slid his jacket on, and walked out. Seeing Belle moving toward him, a smile on her face, he halted, forcing a matching smile to greet her.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said. “Well, I can report that Mr. Rasky and Ms. Betina had a rousing competition of Bingo followed by shari
ng their afternoon snack together.”

  “That’s great,” he replied, feigning enthusiasm.

  Her brow lowered as she tilted her head. “What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

  Giving his head a quick shake, he replied, “No, no. Everything’s fine. Listen, I’ve got somewhere I need to be tonight and I won’t be able to come over.”

  “Oh,” she said, disappointment evident as the corners of her mouth turned down slightly.

  “I…well, it’s important…and, I…well, I just need you to know that I love you. No matter what, I love you.”

  She placed her hands on his arms, peering up into his eyes. “I love you, too. Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “Yeah…just gotta deal with something. I…it’s important that no matter what, you know I love you.”

  Hearing him repeat himself sent alarm bells off in her head, but Belle swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay…I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Sure…yeah.” Bending to kiss her, he stood quickly and walked out of the building, leaving her standing alone.

  The sun had just barely set, casting the neighborhood in long shadows while still being light enough to enjoy the walk. Belle, feeling restless, had walked over to visit with Ms. Sanders. Waving goodbye, she was not ready to go home and decided to walk toward Hunter’s camper, just in case he had returned from whatever task he needed to accomplish.

  She hoped he would come over to see her, no matter how late the hour, but he seemed rather sure that he would just see her the next day.

  As she neared his camper, she spied his motorcycle, but noted all the lights were out on the inside of his home. Sucking in her lips, she wondered if she should stop. Making her way to the door, she lifted her hand and knocked but there was no sound from inside.

  Wondering if he was also out walking, she continued down the road, past the playground that was now empty and silent. Heading to the swings, she sat on one and began pushing out with her legs. Not swinging high, she nonetheless felt the sense of flying that she had so enjoyed as a child. The mobile home park did not have a playground when she was little, but she always played on the swings during school recess. It was something she enjoyed but it was also a solo endeavor. No need for pretending she was not being ignored by the other children.

  Sighing, she dragged her feet in the dirt to slow down and stood up from the swing. Casting a last look toward the back side of the park, wondering about Brittany, she almost turned to head back home when she glimpsed Hunter outside one of the run-down mobile homes, talking with a man known in the neighborhood as a troublemaker. This was who he needed to meet with?

  Her legs took over her common sense and she skirted around the back side of the playground and along a parallel street for a block. The shadows had increased and she realized her precarious position, cursing herself for her stupidity.

  “This is what you get,” she heard Hunter’s voice. “And, I’m telling you, he doesn’t learn his lesson and threatens me again, I’m not going to be happy.”

  The sound of his voice was unlike anything she had ever heard from him before. Hard. Cold. Angry…no…filled with rage.

  “No worries, no worries. I got it, man. You just keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll make sure it’s all right.”

  She did not recognize that voice but assumed it was the man who lived there. Now scared, she silently hurried back the way she came and rushed toward her house. Making it to his camper, she stopped, standing outside, pressed against his door, wondering what to do.

  As rational thought returned, she realized she wanted to talk to him…needed to talk to him. She did not have to wait long before Hunter walked around the corner, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw her standing by his door.

  “Belle?”

  “Why were you talking to him?”

  She watched as his face grew hard and a muscle in his jaw ticked.

  “Don’t deny it, I saw you.”

  “What the fuck were you doing out in the dark walking back there?” he cursed, taking a step forward, stopping when she threw up her hand.

  “Don’t deflect, Hunter. Please tell me you don’t know what kind of man he is.” She watched as he placed his hands on his hips and dropped his chin to stare at his boots.

  “Tell me. Be honest, Hunter. Tell me you don’t know he’s bad news.”

  He remained silent and she shook her head slowly, her heart aching. “Then tell me what you’re doing.”

  “Belle, there’s stuff I can’t talk about. Won’t talk about. I told you I’m working through some things.”

  Standing up straighter, her voice barely a whisper, she said, “Are those things the reason Mitch and Colt have been a little unfriendly with you lately? Are you doing something they don’t like?”

  “Babe, don’t ask questions you know I won’t answer.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m trying to keep you safe,” he said, his face full of anguish as he stepped closer. “But I can’t do that if you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  Rearing back as though slapped, she sucked in a quick breath. “Fine. Consider my nose…unstuck!” She moved forward, skirting around him but his hand slashed out to latch gently onto hers.

  “Belle, babe. Please…try to understand—”

  “No, Hunter,” she cried, pulling her arm from his. “You know. You know what I was raised with. I’m not about to be with someone who’s involved with drugs. It almost ruined my life once…it killed my mom…and I will not let it around me again.” She turned to walk away, then stopped and looked over her shoulder, swallowing audibly. “I only want the best for you. Please get clean and get help.”

  He stayed silent, watching her walk away before he stepped into his camper, his body tense. Taking a beer from the refrigerator he took several long swigs before he stood rooted to the spot for a moment. Whirling, he threw it to the side in the confined space with all his strength, the bottle shattering on the cabinet, beer spraying out. Raging, he put his fist through one of the cabinets. Staring down at his bloody knuckles, his heart pounded. Fuckin’ hell…how could things get so fucked up?

  21

  Sitting on the bedroom bench, staring at the clouds marring the sunrise, Belle sighed. Clouds had never bothered her before. In fact, her grandmother had taught her to appreciate each new day regardless of the weather. But today, the clouds and impending rain matched her mood. Dreary.

  Wincing, she remembered a time when she asked her grandmother about her mom’s addiction.

  “Belle, she’s my daughter and I love her. I accept that she’s got problems, but I won’t let her drag me into them until she’s ready to face up to what she needs to do. And I won’t let her drag you into them either. But, my love for her never changes. And she knows that—I’ve told her over and over…I’m here for her. Not to be taken advantage of, but to love her unconditionally.”

  Hanging her head, her heart ached, not only with what Hunter was facing, but also with her words to him last night. God, I was so judgmental. So scared to even take a chance. With one last look out the window, she jumped up and quickly dressed. It was her day off, but she suddenly had the desire to talk to him. To tell him that she would stand beside him.

  She drove down the road to Careway, her foot pressing the accelerator harder than usual. If he has an addiction problem, then I should help. Wrestling with herself, she also realized that unless he wanted help, it would never work. But, I’ve got to try.

  Turning into the parking lot, her foot hit the brake, jolting her body as she viewed the scene in front of her. Flashing lights from state police and sheriff cars covered the front of Careway. Terrified of what had happened to the residents, she pressed on the accelerator and hurried into a parking spot as close as she could get. A crowd of people had begun to gather, some employees and a few onlookers.

  Jumping from her vehicle, she jogged toward the front where she saw Colt and Mitch standing nearby with a few people wearing
State Police uniforms. Pushing her way through, she recognized Mr. Weldon walking out with Hunter right behind him, seeming to be escorted by State Police officers. Linda, crying, was following them…in handcuffs.

  Heart pounding, she stared at Hunter, who had not seen her Coming closer, she observed the hard set of his jaw, anger pouring from him. Oh, God…Oh, God. He’s being arrested. Her chest quivered as she gasped, trying to take in air. He stopped in front of Colt and Mitch, his back to her, and she heard him speak, “I’d say I was sorry, but you know how it is. I had no choice.”

  Mitch asked, “And Belle? How does she fit into this?”

  “She doesn’t. She’s clear. I’ve checked her out, just like the others. She’s clear.”

  Mitch’s eyes shot behind Hunter and his face fell. “Fuck,” he breathed.

  Hunter jerked around, his eyes landing on her, surprise in his face. “Shit, babe.”

  Her gaze was snagged on something shiny and as she dropped her eyes, she saw a badge clipped to his belt. Stunned, her eyes jumped back to his, her eyebrows hitting her hairline. “You…you’re…”

  “Belle, why are you here today?” he asked, his harsh voice laced with surprise as his brows lifted.

  Chest heaving, not caring who was around listening, she said, “Because…I…came to talk to you. I hated how we parted last night…what I said. I wanted to convince you to get some help…but, this…” Her voice trailed off as she watched Mr. Weldon talk to one of the policemen.

  “The publicity! It will ruin us! Please…”

  His words slid into the background, her attention snagged by Linda being placed in the back of a sheriff car. As though the world she knew had floated away, she turned her gaze back to Hunter, the ramifications hitting her and she stumbled backward. “Oh, my God. You said you cleared me. You were investigating me—”

  “That’s not how it was…not after our first meeting. You know that,” he clipped, stepping closer.

  “I don’t know anything,” she said, dragging her hands through her hair at the sides of her head. Her fingers caught on the ribbon she wore like a headband and the yellow strip of material fell away, fluttering to the ground, unheeded by her. Gasping as her stomach clenched, she cried, “Oh, my God. I shared with you. About my mom, her addiction, my childhood. My horrible, fucking childhood. The poor, dirty kid with ill-fitting hand-me-down clothes that nobody wanted to play with. My mom, when she wasn’t turning tricks, taking our food money and spending it on drugs. I thought you understood…but the whole time, you were wondering if I was doing the same.”