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“Oh yeah! Didn’t you wonder why it was scheduled for a Wednesday? I mean, who gets married in the middle of the week?”
Maybe she’s right…but I hadn’t thought about it. I open my mouth, but she’s already talking again, reciting a poem.
“If it is true love you seek,
Search before the new moon’s peak.
Climb the mountain, standing tall,
Until you find the path so small.
This will take you to fates lake,
Now, the chance is yours to take.
And if Destiny smiles on your endeavor,
Then you shall live, Happily Ever, Forever.”
She finishes, then smiles at me expectantly.
“So why does the wedding need to be Wednesday? Isn’t the lake there all the time?” I ask, not getting the message.
“Oh, well, yeah. The lake doesn’t disappear. But Wednesday is the night of the new moon, so it’s extra special for them because it’s a big part of how they got together.”
“Sounds kind of silly. A lake can’t make you fall in love,” I say, cringing when she turns a wicked glare my way. Okay, I guess maybe Trouble believes in the magic voodoo lake, too.
Retreat. Retreat.
“How are the feet feeling?” I ask, changing the topic.
“Much better today. Thanks! Gotta keep the moneymakers looking good,” she tosses out, and once again, I find myself confused, so I laugh like I’m in on the joke. “Oh, I love this song!”
Blyth cranks up the sound to some country song I’ve never heard of. She sings along, her voice closer to a caterwaul than an actual song, but the happiness surrounding her makes it all worth it. I’ll take the bleeding eardrums if it will keep her looking at me just like that.
Forever?
The errant thought makes a shiver run down my spine. Between my PTSD, anger issues, and just preferring solitude, I never considered having a woman for keeps—but something about her just pulls me in like a moth to a flame. I should fight this harder. I know I should, but being around Blyth makes me feel lighter. She takes all my focus so that my worries melt away.
Chapter Nine
Blyth
“Have to pee. Have to pee. Have to pee,” I shout, jumping out of the truck before Murphy brings the car to a complete stop at the gas pump. The door swings behind me, but I don’t even have time to slam it closed before sprinting through the convenience store in search of the bathrooms.
Oh, look, snickers bars. Coming back here.
Veering left, I find it. Luckily, there’s no line and I breathe a sigh of relief as I push into a stall. Not the cleanest, but I hurry to do my business as the door opens and closes, allowing someone else in.
Thinking nothing of it, I finish and head out to wash my hands, but before I’ve walked a few steps, a hand reaches out and grabs my arm. Hard. The scent of alcohol and stale cigarettes shoots up my nose as I’m shoved roughly into a wall. The impact has all the oxygen whooshing from my lungs. Pain blossoms in my chest.
My face scrapes against the tile on the wall, and I twist it to the side, trying to get in any air. I gasp and gasp, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t catch my breath. The room becomes fuzzier, and a buzzing fills the small space.
“Promise I’ll be quick, pretty,” a crackly male voice says near my ear. Anger and revulsion swirl within me, along with a sliver of fear when harsh hands slide over my ass.
No fucking way.
His breathing picks up as he paws at my jeans, and the initial shock of the rough treatment wears off. Air finally gusts into my lungs. Using my arms, I shove back hard, levering myself off the wall, and stomp on his foot like my daddy taught me. He grunts, but the fucker must be big because all I get is a little extra space to maneuver. I reach for my purse, wanting my pepper spray, but realize I left it in the car.
