Page 9 of Deception & Daylight
Mags: Fucking nightmare. It’s like the entire cast of Wolf of Wall Street was there.
Paige: Could’ve found yourself a sugar daddy.
Mags: Fuck no. They all eyed me up like a piece of meat then spent their 5 minutes talking the size of their bank accounts. I need to get out of the city.
Paige: You could always move to Oak Ridge.
Mags: You know I can’t do that.
Paige: Dramatic sigh.
With the last bit of light sinking behind the lake, I decide to make my way back to the house. My manuscript is waiting, and if I’m not getting laid, at least the characters in the next M.W. Hartley novel can. The path from the beach to my house is so familiar, I could do it in my sleep, and maybe that’s why I’m not paying attention. Maybe that’s why I completely miss the shadow following in my wake until it’s too late. A breeze ruffles my hair moments before a shrill cry pierces the air —mycry — before everything goes black.
1 week later
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Nashville, Tennessee. Local time is 10:52am. It’s a beautiful spring day here, with temperatures around 73 degrees. We’ve reached our destination, and on behalf of the entire crew, thank you for flying with us today.”
My body is operating on autopilot as I descend the stairs towards baggage claim, scanning my surroundings for any signs of danger, hyperaware of everything going on around me.
You’re okay, Maggie. You’re in a crowded airport. Nobody can hurt you.
There’s a phantom pain in my head where the weapon struck me. Most of my wounds are healing now, save for a few bruises along my cheek, several broken ribs, and the psychological damage left behindby the attack. As soon as I was released from the hospital, I knew it was time to go.
The lake, what I’d once thought of as a peaceful haven, has been forever tainted by what happened that night — though I still can’t recall any of the details. The police and doctors threw around words like assault and victim, but all I felt was numb — like my body no longer belonged to me.
“Mags?” Paige’s sullen voice pulls me back to the present as she comes into focus. Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she wraps me in her arms, sending a jolt of pain through my ribs — I yelp at the contact and she instantly releases me.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes scan my body, lingering on the deep purple bruise that mars my cheek, a single tear tracing a hot path down her face, her silence broken only by a sharp gasp.
I pull her back in for another hug, murmuring words of reassurance. “It’s okay.I’mokay.” They lack conviction, and when I pull back, I see the pity in her eyes, a confirmation of my brokenness.
“Come on, let’s get your bags. Cade is waiting outside,” she says, her voice softening as she reaches for my hand, her touch a balm to my fragile emotions, reminding me I’m not alone anymore.
Cade’s concerned gaze meets mine in the rearview as I slide into the backseat of their SUV. Ignoring the twinge of pain I feel from the sympathy I see there, I quickly divert my attention to the smiling face of my niece tucked away in her car seat.
“Hey sweet girl,” I whisper, reaching in to stroke a hand over her curls. Sofia’s tiny fist finds my finger and grips it. “You look just like your mama.”
“Damn right she does,” Cade says, with immeasurable pride in his voice.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the cabin?” Paige asks as we pull out of the massive parking garage. I can’t blame her for wanting to keep me close. She didn’t handle the news well when she found out what happened. If it weren’t for Cade, she would’ve been on the first flight to Toronto the very next day.
“I love you, babe, but I’ve heard the screams from this little one when she gets hungry, and I need my beauty sleep.” Sofia babbles in her car seat as though she understood my insult. “Sorry, sweetie. You know I love you.” Her sweet brown eyes sparkle as she looks up at me, and I just know she’s going to have me wrapped around her little finger while I’m here.
“Fine, but the offer stands. If you get tired of the inn, you’re welcome to stay in the guest room.” I won’t take her up on it, but I don’t have it in me to argue with her.
“Noted. Now, can we talk about the Blossom Festival? You said you’re the official photographer, right?”
“Funny you should mention that. The local paper needs a writer to cover it. Patty McNeely is retiring, and she hasn’t found a replacement yet. She needs someone to write the article to go along with my photos.”
“Who the hell is Patty McNeely? Sounds like a detective in a spy novel.”
“A reporter for the local paper — keep up, Mags.” I laugh for the first time since that night, as we revert back to our usual banter, slipping effortlessly into old habits like I haven’t been irrevocably changed. “She mentioned taking on a temp until they can find someone to fill the position in a more permanent capacity.”
She doesn’t outright tell me to apply for the position, but Paige has never been very direct in that way. Truth be told, I’m not entirely against the idea, but staying in Oak Ridge long term isn’t part of the plan. I’m just here to piece myself back together; to findcomfort in a place that always felt like it belonged to me in some fleeting way, however temporarily. I give a noncommittal shrug. “I’ll think about it.”
Sometime between the airport and the welcome to Kentucky sign, I must have dozed off. When I come to, we’re pulling up outside of a large Victorian house that looks like it’s been plucked straight out of an episode of Charmed. The weathered hanging sign on the plush front lawn says “Willow Creek Inn”.
Cade carries my luggage up the creaky porch steps and pulls me in for a brief side hug that somehow feels monumental. “We’re here for you,” he whispers before stepping away to give me a moment alone with my best friend. I swallow around the lump in my throat as she squeezes both of my hands in hers. “Call me if you need anything, ok?”
