Page 4 of An Unexpected Everything
I’d called her Bella.
Fuck.
“I’m here visiting my friend. I needed a damn moment to breathe and I didn’t realize that this town is cursed just like everything else around me. I don’t need a doctor. I just need to go home. To my city. Away from…” She shook her head. “Thank you for saving my life. I know that sounds trite. But thank you. However, I didn’t know this was your town. That you’d be here. And frankly…I can’t care anymore. I can’t look at you. I don’t have time in my life for more blasts from the past. I’ve had enough of that lately with dear old Dad and my brand-new family.”
“I’m sorry.” I cursed. “About your dad. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your concern. Though the news seems to think it’s everyone’s concern. I’m going to go now. Maybe you should tell whoever is in charge of this town that it’s a death trap.”
“I can do that,” I said after a moment, an odd chuckle escaping my lips. That was Isabella. The woman who always had something to say when people were doing something wrong. Notbecause she judged, but because she wanted to help—to make sure no one got hurt.
And yet I was the one who hurt her…just like her father apparently.
“Okay then.” A pause. “Weston, I—” But she cut herself off as tears filled her eyes. Then she practically ran toward the small parking area off to the side of my truck. I hadn’t seen what must be her SUV there when I’d pulled in thanks to the angle, but now I saw what I’d missed before.
Like always—a little too late.
Without a word, she drove off and I watched her go, hoping to hell her friend in town—whoever that was—kept her safe.
Because once again, I sure hadn’t. The only woman I’d ever loved drove away, leaving me dirty and covered in cuts and blood. And I had no words for that since this time it wasn’t metaphorical.
My phone buzzed and I looked down at the read out, answering when I saw it was Sam. “Little sister. I thought you were studying.”
“I am. But I was wondering when you were coming home. It’s your turn to cook, you know.”
I cursed and I heard her and her twin’s laughter. “I’ll be there soon. But it might be takeout night.”
“You know our favorites. Be safe, big brother.”
And with that, she hung up, leaving me staring at the place Bella had been, letting the memories of what once was wash over me. After all, that phone call was my reality. The reason for so many things.
And Isabella Cage Dixon was not the woman for me or this town. I would do well to remember that, even when the boundaries of the town itself closed in.
A reminder of what was lost.
And the dreams I’d crushed along the way.
Chapter Two
ISABELLA
I loved my family.I truly did. I knew that through the worst of what life threw at us, my siblings would stand by my side. Then again, when I proclaimed that sentiment to myself the first time all those years ago, I hadn’t hadquiteas many siblings.
Family dinner now had a whole new spin to it—one that either came with stress, drama, or absolute loathing. It surprised me, however, because the latter turned out to not be with the other Cages. The seven brothers who were still strangers though we were slowly becoming friendly. Perhaps even family. No, the anxiety and anger occurred with the family I had grown up with.
Or at least, the woman who raised me.
“Mom. You have to stop. There is literally nothing I can do,” I repeated for what felt like the fifteenth time during this dinner alone.
It didn’t seem like she was listening to me. Instead she continued to rant aboutthatwoman.
The other wife.
My mother was of average height and had the same chestnut-brown hair that I did. While I had cut my hair to my shoulders, she had cut it short enough to show the nape of her neck and she shined with it. She’d had long hair for as long as I couldremember. It had been down to the middle of her back, and she would braid it at night so it wouldn’t be too tangled in the morning. I’d always loved brushing it as a little girl, and then my sister Sophia would add ribbons and other pretty things to the braids when we had been growing up. Sophia, a future principal ballet dancer, always had lace and random satin ribbons on hand.
When Dad died, Mom had kept her hair long for the funeral—and for that fateful day at the lawyer’s office. But after our first required family dinner, we had come by her home afterward to visit and been shocked at her new appearance. I didn’t know if it was grief, anger, or finally wanting to do something that our dad hadn’t let her, but either way, it was still a bit of a jolt to see.
Mom’s voice brought me out of my reverie. “There has to be something you can do. I don’t understand why you have to spend a single evening withthosepeople.”
