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“I’ll be there in two minutes. I need to call the sheriff. I’m going with you.”
He hung up before I could tell him that wasn’t necessary.
“Can you go ahead and start locking up?”
“Yes, but first, let me get you some ice.”
Lacey found a Ziploc bag, filled it with ice, wrapped it all in a wet tea towel then slid that into another bag. The second my hand pressed into the cold, I sighed.
Hopefully this wasn’t as bad as it looked. After all, this wasn’t the first time I’d been burned in this kitchen; it surely wouldn’t be the last.
Chapter 5
Cindy
Preparations for Mara and Brenna’s double wedding had begun, and I was thankful for the distraction. I was so happy for both of them and honored to be a part of their big day. How cool was it that two best friends were doing a double wedding?
Being it was Mara's wedding, and she shouldn't have to be the one making the food for it, she'd asked Dana to whip up some of her delicious baked goods, and I would be in charge of some sweets and other treats. They didn't want a huge production since they were leaving the next morning for Ireland. Yes, I was jealous but super excited to hear all about their travels when they came back.
I got a call last night from Nich, saying Dana had burned her hand pretty good at her shop yesterday. After my public outburst, I didn't have it in me to open up shop, therefore I wasn't around when this happened. I felt terrible, but luckily, she got to the hospital, and they fixed her right up, so she's on the healing train. In typical Dana fashion, she insisted on working today, against everyone's wishes. She was a stubborn badass like that, so I figured the least I could do was bring her coffee and some breakfast this morning. One less meal she had to prepare, and this way I knew she'd sit for two seconds and eat with me.
We had keys to each other's shops, in case of an emergency, so I let myself in. She was in the kitchen, so I tried to get her attention so she didn’t club me over the head as if I was an intruder. I'd seen the rolling pin she kept behind the counter and in the kitchen—and no, thank you, ma'am. She’d even named them—it’s serious business. So, I called out, "Knock knock. It's me. I come bearing hot coffee and breakfast. No need to bring Beavis and Butthead out. I come in peace."
Dana slowly turned towards me, and she was covered in powdered sugar from head to toe. When she looked at me, the tears started flowing, and then she was hysterically laughing. Here, I thought I was the unstable one in this friendship. Seems I now had some competition.
"It's been one of those mornings, girl. I was simply trying to powder my donuts when the lid decided to fall off the top of my shaker, causing me to look like a whore in a crackhouse. Why am I laughing about it? Well, it's better than crying over spilt sugar, am I right? Anywho, I smell coffee and bacon, so let me get cleaned up and we can have a chat and eat."
I knew what that meant. She wanted to know what had happened the other day, and why she’d had to hear it from nosy neighbors instead of me. I’d also heard they were talking shit about Spencer, which really grinded my fucking gears. People saw what they wanted to see, never taking in the fact that what they saw wasn’t always the truth. Any lady would be lucky to have a man like Spencer. The tattoos, chiseled chin, and gorgeous blue eyes were just a sexy add on.
"So, Cindy Lou, you know I'm going to ask; spill it. What set off your public display of insanity the other day? Are you okay? Do I get to kill some mouthy twat or dickhead for you, my love? Trust me when I say, I'm in the mood to rumble."
And they said girls were selfish. Not Dana. Anyone willing to fight your battles for you was a keeper. Don't mess that shit up.
"No, tiger, there won't be any need for you to get bloody. Plus, bloodstains are a royal bitch to get out of the carpet. My ex, Stefan, has found me. At least I think he has. The past couple months, I've been getting notes signed by him, and it's definitely his handwriting. They don't say much but enough to have me worried and more on edge than usual. I guess it's just getting to me, ya know? I don't like playing games. I'd rather just face him and get it over with, but playing this bullshit game with me is more his style. There's not much I can do about it, seeing how he isn't breaking any laws. Yet. He's not one to stay behind the curtain, so the fucker will show his face eventually."
Dana started to tear up. This was why I'd tried to keep her out of it. I didn’t want anyone else having this dread hanging over them. It wasn’t fair. Stefan was my problem, not Dana's or anyone else's, for that matter.
"I knew your ex was bad news. The few times he's been mentioned, I could see the light dim in your eyes as you talked about him. I won't let some dickless wonder take your shine, sis. Believe that. I do think we should tell Noah and Nich, just so they're aware. They can maybe help us figure out what he's up to. Do a search on him or whatever sneaky cop things they may have up their sleeves."
It wouldn't hurt, and there was no use fighting Dana on it. She'd make sure she had the last word.
"I'm okay with it, as long as you're sure? I've always tried to fight my own battles, but I'm slowly losing this one. I've let him worm his way back into my head, and I hate it. I never wanted Stefan to have that power over me again, and that's why I ran. After a while, I thought he’d just moved on and forgotten about me. I was wrong. I got too eager, and that was a mistake."
"It's no use trying to run from me, Cynthia. I'd find you. I wouldn't stop until I found you, and when I did, you'd be begging for mercy. Should I give you mercy, Cynthia? Do you deserve my mercy?"
I remembered those words like he’d said them to me yesterday. He had just beaten the shit out of me because I was twenty minutes late getting home from the grocery store. I’d told him if he ever touched me again, I'd leave him. He’d laughed. I’d cried. He knew it was another one of my empty threats. He not only physically beat me, but he beat me down with his words. It was one of his favorite games to play. Words could kill a soul faster than any physical bruise could.
I agreed to talk to not only Noah and Nich, but the whole gang. They'd been nothing but good to me, and I knew they saw my mood swings. Hell, the whole street saw my last one. Speaking of, just as me and Dana were finishing up our breakfast, none other than Spencer himself walked into the store.
"Morning, ladies. How are we doing? Abel said he called in an order, and I'm here to retrieve it for his lazy bum. I didn't interrupt girl time, did I?"
Dana waved him in closer and got up to grab two boxes from under the counter. She gave Spencer a little smirk and handed him the goods.
"Well, if it isn't the town hooligan. I must say, if saving my girl from her public outburst is a hooligan move, then bring it on. Don't mind what those old birds say; they're just jealous of your beautiful tattoos and shiny piercings. They only wish they looked half as good as you. I might have a man, but I can still admire another beautiful creation. You, my friend, are that. Thank you for helping Cindy when I couldn't."
They both looked at me with sincerity shining in their eyes. Dana was right. The older folks in this town could be very judgmental of one's looks. I got it. They’d grown up in a much more vanilla era, where being different was frowned upon. I used to care what people thought of me, but now, not so much. If you didn’t like me, then that was your problem, and I had no time for your cattiness.
Spencer set the boxes down and grabbed both of us in a bear hug. The overwhelming urge to sniff him was at my fingertips, and it won out. Jesus, he smelled like vanilla and tobacco, and it had me salivating. Lord, save my soul because this man was sinful.
