Page 12 of Duress
“Everly. We have to get out of here.Now.I’ll explain when we get home, but please, baby, trust me.”
I try to take a step back, unsure of who this man is in front of me, but Bryce tightens his grip.
“Please, baby. If you love me, take me home now. I promise I’ll explain it all once we are home, but I can’t be found here.Wecan’t be found here.” The desperation in his voice causes my resolve to crumble.
I jerk a nod and move forward, putting my arm around his waist, supporting him as we shuffle to the car.
“God, thank you, baby. I knew I could count on you.” He looks up at me with so much love shining in his eyes as I deposit him into the passenger seat of our SUV. I give him a small, forced smile as I fight back the sick feeling that something very, very bad happened tonight.
The buzzof my phone pulls me from the bleak memory, bringing my attention back to the present. My tea is half drunk and cold. The yogurt untouched. Glancing at the phone, I see a text from Dane that causes a pit of dread to open in my stomach.
Dane
Can we talk?
CHAPTER 11
DANE
It’s Sunday morning, and it’s been three days since Everly and I kissed. She hasn’t responded to my texts, and Bryce hasn’t stopped pestering me about needing to talk to me. I’ve been avoiding his demands for us to meet. After he blew me off, I was already done entertaining his ass, but now I don’t want to see him until Everly and I talk. I don’t blame her for needing time to process, but I need to know if she told him. Or how she feels about what happened. I just need to know that she’s okay.
I’m walking around downtown on a gorgeous fall morning, trying to distract myself from the Everly situation. I spent my entire Saturday wallowing at home, hoping like hell she would call or text me. She never did, and I’m doing my best not to fall into a spiral wondering if Bryce knows what happened. Taking a break from my stroll in downtown Birch Falls, I pull out my phone and look at my text thread to Everly. Each message is read but ignored.
Friday 9:07AM
Dane:
Can we talk?
Saturday 10:15AM
Ever, call me when you get a chance.
Please.
I did my best to keep my messages innocuous-sounding, in case Bryce looks at her phone, but now worry that maybe he saw them and suspects something happened creeps into the back of my mind. I decide to try one more time, with a message that might pique her interest.
Dane
Serena said she wants to talk to you about bringing your art therapy to Whispering Grove. She spoke to the director there, and they would love to have you there. They’ve been searching for someone to run a program like that. Can I give her your number?
There, a text that needs a response. And it gives me a cover story if Bryce has been looking at her phone and wondering why I have been texting her. Tucking my phone away, I resume my walk to Brewed Awakening, on the search for a decent cup of coffee and a slice of their cranberry-orange loaf.
Just as I pass the outdoor dining area of Knead, a popular spot for brunch in Birch Falls, a familiar laugh catches my attention. There is Everly, sitting at a table withanother woman. I stop in my tracks and take in the scene, making sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me.
Yup, it’s Everly alright. She’s angled facing away from the sidewalk, but I can still see enough of her profile to know it’s her. Her hair sits on her head in a sleek high ponytail. She’s dressed up more than usual, wearing a navy-blue dress and heels. There is even a strand of pearls wrapped around her beautiful throat. She looks like she should be heading to some sort of office job, not out having brunch. Then I see her companion and realize she must be dressed up to match her. This must be one of the stuffy attorneys’ wives she was complaining about being forced to hang out with. The other woman is wearing a fancy-looking shift dress and heels that look wildly impractical.
Stepping behind one of the trees that line the sidewalk, I take a moment to watch her. Seeing her face for the first time after our kiss is like seeing the sun come out after a week of rain and gloom. I didn’t realize how deep my need to see her again was until just now. It takes all of my self-control not to walk into the restaurant and make her talk to me. I know that would not end well for her. Not with one of those gossipy housewives there to witness it. So I tuck my hands into my pockets, lean against the tree, and just watch.
There is a smile on Everly’s face, and she’s laughing, but she seems…off. Her laugh doesn’t sound like it did on Thursday night, when she collapsed against me in a fit of laughter during Pictionary. It’s a higher pitch and sounds forced. Her smile appears strained. The light in her eyes is dim. She’s faking it. Putting on some sort of show for whomever it is she’s with. The more I watch her, the more I notice. Her posture is stiff and uncomfortable. She’s barely touched the food on her plate. The other woman says something I can’t make out, and the smile slips off Everly’s face briefly before coming back. It’s clear she is not enjoying this meal or the company.
I decide to stick around until she is done hoping I can catch her as she leaves. I know it’s a little creepy to lurk around waiting for her, but I need to talk to her. The need to check on her is steering this ship at the moment, and my rational brain can’t seem to take back control.
Brewed Awakening is across the street from Knead, with a direct view of the patio where Everly sits. I continue with my mission for coffee and a slice of cranberry bread, but instead of taking it home, I sit at the counter that lines the window facing the street and wait for Everly.
After an excruciating hour of watching Everly fake her way through brunch with false smiles and barely disguised disinterest, the women stand from their table, having finally paid their check. I wait to watch them leave, to make sure they didn’t arrive together. I won’t approach Everly in front of her “friend” and risk it getting back to Bryce. The women share a brief hug once they exit the restaurant, then part ways, giving me my cue to follow Everly.
Even though my coffee is long gone, I keep the empty cup as a prop. An easy excuse to show it’s just a coincidence that I’m running into Everly downtown. She doesn’tneed to know I’ve been a creepy stalker watching her for the last hour.
