Carter (The Harlow Brothers Book 1) Page 2

  I shake my head, hating how my thoughts always go back to him. I have to learn not to think this way anymore. I’m alone again, and it’s time I get used to it.

  Two hours later, I get ready to board the last bus until I’m back home. I still keep my head down as I make my way to the bus. I pull my jacket tighter around me since the January air feels as though it’s chilling me to my bones. Burying my hands in my jacket pockets as I wait my turn to get on the bus, I quickly scan around the area, trying to spot anyone familiar. I keep reminding myself that no one knows I left. Once I knew my closest friends betrayed me, I made sure to leave inconspicuously. The only one I’m worried about is my mother. When she realizes I’m no longer there, she’ll know where I went. I can only hope, for once in her life, she’ll decide to leave me alone.

  A woman behind me clearing her throat startles me, letting me know to board the bus. I relax slightly and glance away from her, shifting my bag over my shoulder as I walk up the steps. Handing the bus driver my ticket, I refuse to make any eye contact with him, and look for a seat in the back. I want to be away from prying eyes. Away from everyone. I don’t make eye contact with a single person already seated. I stare straight ahead, my eyes on the open seat two rows from the back. I sit down, immediately placing my bag beside me. I don’t want anyone sitting next to me, but my hand rests on the bag just in case someone tries to take it. Once we’re on the road, I’ll count my items again. It’s becoming more of an OCD habit to check on my things. Maybe it’s because I know this bag is all I have now. The thought is depressing. I’ve never been attached to materialistic things, but change is never easy. It’s hard and sometimes complicated, but I’m determined to push through the rough patches. I’m ready to start over with a new life, and forget my past.

  Leaning my head against the window, I hear the bus driver announce he’s getting ready to close the doors to start our long journey. I don’t really hear much else. I’m thinking about how different my hometown is going to be. I wonder if my childhood home is still empty, or if Mom ended up selling it. I think about Annie and her husband, William. I wonder if they’ll remember me after all these years. I block out thoughts of Carter Harlow and his family. Those memories are just too painful to think of right now.

  Instead, I think of Annie and William.

  Do they still live in their small house down the road from my childhood home? There were so many times when I was a child, I’d stay with them. They eventually became my family. Annie would fix me chicken and dumplings when I had a horrible day with Mom. William taught me how to change the oil in his truck. Both took care of me when Mom would be too busy for me, or when Dad was too drunk to care about anything. I even stayed overnight most weekends, and once Mom dropped me off for a full year so she could have her alone time. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t have them in my life. I also wonder about how they’re doing. It’s been thirteen years since I’ve seen either one of them. I never stayed in touch with them, and I feel the guilt rising in my chest. After all they’ve done for me, I should’ve at least called every once in a while. It feels like a slap in the face knowing how I’ve neglected them, when they’ve been nothing but kind to me. I wish I could call them now, but I don’t have a cell phone anymore. I dropped it in a trash can somewhere in South Carolina before I got on my first bus. I knew keeping it that Easton would find a way to track me, and I couldn’t have that.

  I feel the bus jerk and the roar of the engine then soon after, the bus station is another memory. I wait until the driver takes us onto the highway before I finally take my hand off my bag. I still don’t glance at any of the other passengers. I’m in my own world as I check on my belongings. I don’t have much since I had to leave in such a hurry. I only had time to grab two pairs of jeans, a few T-shirts, and a pair of socks. I had a few pairs of panties, but I tossed them since I couldn’t wash them after wearing them. I feel dirty, and probably smell. Pulling out the travel size deodorant, I quickly put some on. I also grab a disposable, travel size toothbrush. I brush my teeth, and put it back into the case once I’m done. Taking out the pack of baby wipes I picked up at a gas station, I wipe my hands and face. It’s not ideal, but for now, it’ll have to do. I set the discolored wipe aside, then I pull out my scrapbook. I lightly touch the front, staring at the picture on the front of the old me. The person I was thirteen years ago. But I don’t open it. I can’t bear to look at the people from my past, and how much they impacted me. It was happier times back then. It was simple and not as fucked up as my life is now. I have to put my book away when my vision starts to blur.

  I brush my fingers over my face, trying to make the tears stop from falling. I take a deep breath, placing my hand back on my bag. I lean back in the seat wishing I had my iPod. I know this ten-hour bus ride is going to seem a lot longer without something to pass the time. I pull my legs up to my chest, and lean my head on my knees as I wrap my arms around myself. I suddenly feel tired, and I know it’s because of these past couple of weeks. I don’t want to run anymore. I just want to get back to Annie and William. Back to happiness.

  I just want to be home again.

  I’m startled awake by a hand touching my shoulder. I jump, as a scream escapes my mouth. My heart begins race, and my hands start shaking. I look up, seeing the bus driver standing over me with a worried expression on his face. He holds his hands up, showing me he means no harm. Letting out a breath, I take off my hood and run my hands through my messy hair, while trying to give him a smile.

  “I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  I shake my head as I say, “No, it’s okay. Thank you for waking me. Have we arrived?”

  I don’t think I’ve convinced him I’m fine. He looks away with sad eyes, and I hear him say, “Yes, ma’am.”

  I try to smile, but end up turning away. I look out the window, noticing I’m back in Columbus, Mississippi. I can’t believe I slept the entire way, but I’m grateful that I at least got one night of restful sleep. I can’t recall the last time I slept more than a few hours at a time. I thank the bus driver for waking me, and he turns to leave as I grab my bag. I follow behind him, quickly getting off the bus. After finding a bathroom, and grateful to find an empty stall, I wash my face utilizing the free soap. My reflection catches my attention in the mirror as I use the scratchy paper towels to dry my face, but I don’t recognize myself. My hair is oily and stringy looking. I can see my roots coming through the fake dye job, and I’m in need of a hot shower with lots of soap. For years, Easton loved it when I dyed my hair blonde. I’m not sure why. Maybe it was because he wanted to make me into someone else. Someone he could control and show off like some prized doll. Now, I just look pale, and my natural dark brunette roots make me feel trashy. Dull and lifeless eyes stare back at me, and I realize how lost and scared they seem. Once they were bright blue with a hint of green. So full of love back then, and I question if I’ll ever get that light back. I have bags under my eyes from long sleepless nights. With a shaky hand, I graze the pink scar above my top lip. When I can’t stand to look at the new scar any longer, I quickly move my hand to my cheek. I can see and feel my bones sticking out. I wonder if the people looking at me think I’m some poor sickly woman. That’s exactly how I seem. Have I really lost that much weight? I glance down, realizing my jeans are hanging loosely on my hips, and my jacket’s swallowing me. I briefly look back at myself, but then turn away from the mirror. I can’t bear to look at myself anymore, disgusted with how much I’ve wasted away. I don’t look like me, and I have no idea who I’ve turned into.

  Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I exit the bathroom. I walk out of the bus station, ready to leave the past right where it needs to stay. Once outside, I take in my surroundings, leaning my head back and letting the morning sun warm my face. I close my eyes, loving the feel of it, and sigh deeply. It even smells the same. The air has a bit of humidity, but it’s fresher. It smells like home, somewhere I remember and longed to be
for a while since divorcing Easton. After a few moments, I raise my head and glance around me. I notice people coming out of the bus station, and I quickly pull my hood back over my head, tightly holding the strap of my bag. Even if these people are strangers, I still have the feeling of paranoia. I feel the urge to run, but force myself not to. It would draw more attention, so instead, I stare down Main Street, feeling a sense of déjà vu. I used to come down here multiple times when I was in high school. I remember these streets, and knowing I’m back home again makes my heart clench.

  I turn left, starting my long walk to Annie and William’s home. I could’ve gotten a taxi, but I didn’t want to waste the money. I have this feeling I’m going to need every penny, so walking it is. I don’t stop myself from looking at all the small businesses that are opening for the day. I soak up everything familiar, but different at the same time, as I pass by the Renasant Bank, the court house, a bistro, and a hardware shop. Across the street, there’s a boutiques and a wedding dress shop. There’s a new business across the street, and it seems more people are walking about than I remember. I make a right noticing the hair salon I used before is still in business. I desperately want to walk in to get my hair dyed back to my natural color, but my low funds stop me again. I will myself to pass by it, and notice how busy everyone seems going to work and starting their day.

  I find myself envying them. Such mundane things people take for granted every single day. I used to be just like them. Getting up for work and stopping by Starbucks to get my morning coffee. I stop for a moment and stare at my dirty shoes. I shouldn’t feel this way. I had a great job, and a great life with Easton, up until things slowly took a turn for the worse. I shouldn’t feel so much regret for leaving my home town all those years ago, or letting my marriage turn into what it became. I can’t help but think maybe if I’d paid more attention things wouldn’t have happened the way it did. That maybe if I was stronger, and not so afraid, I could’ve done something to change it.

  I don’t know why I feel such deep regret for the way my life turned out. But the only thing I can do now is move forward, and try to put my past behind me.

  I start walking again, hoping now that I’m home things will change this time around. I pass by Zachary’s, a small restaurant on my left. My mouth starts to water thinking about their amazing food and my stomach growls. I can’t stop for food since they’re closed and because I’m broke. I think about stopping by McDonald’s to grab something off their dollar menu, but that thought stops abruptly when I hear a siren go off. I jump, and my hand clutches my chest. I snap my head towards the sound, seeing a police car idling beside me. My heart instantly pounds in my chest and my stomach drops. My first thought is, what did I do wrong? Then my thoughts turn into panic. What if Easton knows where I am? Could he have connections here? Is the reach of his family’s reputation really this far?

  I stand as still as possible when the police officer steps out of his vehicle. I think about running, but I make myself stay where I am. If I’m in trouble, for whatever reason, running isn’t an option. The officer makes his way towards me, and I realize he seems familiar. My eyebrows furrow, as I try and figure out how I know him. I watch him closely as he slowly takes off his sunglasses. When I see his face, I can’t help but smile. “Caden? Is that really you?”

  He grins widely, opening his arms. I immediately walk to him, letting him embrace me tightly. He rubs my back, and I take comfort in him. Caden slowly pulls me back, his grip lightly holding my shoulders. He looks me up and down, carefully taking in how I look. I can’t help but turn away, ashamed of how awful I must seem. I still can’t believe Caden Harlow is standing here, right in front of me. Then I realize if Caden’s here, Carter will know I’m here soon. Caden is Carter’s younger brother. I know all of Carter’s brothers, since we grew up together, and use to hang around each other so much. Carter, Caden, Cason, Clark, and Caleb. Carter’s the oldest out of the bunch, and he’ll be thirty-three now. Caden and Cason are twins but from what I remember, are nothing alike. Cason has a scar on his right eyebrow, and it’s always helped me make the difference between them. Caden was the jokester out of the group. He was always making everyone laugh, and playing pranks. Cason was the quiet one, but the one you could depend on whenever you needed anything. Then there’s Clark, always wanting to save the day. The last I remember, he was thinking of joining the military. Caleb’s the youngest and the nerdy, shy, one out of all the boys.

  I glance back at Caden, shocked at how much he’s changed since the last time I saw him. Once he was a skinny and lanky kid, but you’d never know that now by looking at him. He’s put on muscle, and his arms are bigger than my entire body. His black officer’s uniform hugs tightly against his upper body. I wonder if he flexed his muscles if it would rip? His dark brown hair is spiked in the front, short on the sides, and his deep blue eyes seem to make me feel warm and safe again. He’s like the younger brother I never had. He starts to chuckle as I look him over. I smile and shake my head, knowing what he’s about to say. “Checkin’ me out, Shelby?”

  His deep southern accent is such a familiar sound. The people I knew in South Carolina had an accent too, but theirs was more refined, almost as if they were too proper to speak with a twang. Hearing Caden’s thick accent makes me instantly relax around him. He’s safe, and for the first time in a long time, I feel at ease. “I can’t believe how much you’ve changed,” I reply, waving my hand up and down.

  “Yeah, it’s been a long time since you’ve been around. There’s a lot you’ve missed.” I feel a bit of guilt at his words, but I just nod my head. What’s there to say? “Are you back in town for good or just passin’ through?”

  I sigh before I respond. “I’m not sure yet. I … I just needed to come home for a while.” I hate I’m tripping over my words, but I’m not ready to talk about why I’m home again.

  “That’s good to hear. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you walking. I thought I’d seen a fucking ghost.” I chuckle at his words, but it dies as he says, “I know Carter and Mama will be happy you’re back,” he stops when I start shaking my head.

  “Please Caden, don’t tell anyone I’m here yet. I … I’m not ready for anyone to know. Especially Carter. You understand, don’t you?”

  He looks away as if he’s thinking about what I’m asking him. I know I’m putting him in an awkward position, but Carter cannot know yet. I can’t let him see me like this, and I’m definitely not ready to face him. Caden nods and says, “Yeah, I understand. But, I won’t lie to him. If he asks, I have to tell him. You of all people know why.”

  “I’d never ask you to lie to him. I remember our pact, even if it seems like forever ago since we made it.” Caden nods, seeming to agree. And I do remember our little group pact we made years ago in our tree house. We made a promise never to lie to one another. Even at eleven years old, I saw what lies did to people. I watched my Mom and Dad fight on multiple occasions because my Dad claimed she was lying. I knew Mom lied to Dad before. Once I caught her kissing a man outside our home, and she told me to promise to never tell anyone. I didn’t listen, immediately telling Carter, and Mom made sure I couldn’t sit down for days after she found out I’d told.

  “Good. Do you want a ride somewhere?” He asks as he points his thumb to his police car. I don’t think twice about it before I nod my head and thank him as we both get in. I place my bag by my feet, and once I put on my seat belt, Caden slowly pulls out, heading north. We leave Main Street behind, and it’s not until we pass by the Waffle House when he asks, “Where do you want me to take you?”

  “Annie and William’s, please.” I glance at him and quickly add, “If they still live there. I haven’t spoken to them in a long time.” I turn away, absently staring out the window as I whisper, “A lot can change in thirteen years.”

  I don’t know if Caden heard me since he didn’t say anything about my last comment. He does begin to tell me Annie and William still live in their small house out o
n Jess Lyons Road. He doesn’t ask me why I want to go there, he knows how much Annie and William mean to me. We all loved Annie and William. If we weren’t at Caden’s parents’ home, we were at Annie and William’s. We spent so much time there, that William built us a tree house in the backyard and put up a tree swing. Annie would make all kinds of food for us, and it always seemed like Thanksgiving Day when she did. These are the good memories. The ones I cherish and wish I could go back to relive again.

  Caden’s voice trails off as I think about the past. Our silence isn’t uncomfortable. It’s actually nice to be around someone I trust again. Someone I know who won’t ask me twenty-one questions just to gain information about me to use later. I don’t have to watch what I say, when I do talk. I don’t have to worry about anything. It’s such a relief to be with an old friend again. I want to break our silence, but then again, I want to relish in this peaceful feeling I’m having. It’s a feeling I thought I’d never have again after everything that happened between Easton and I.

  Then I wonder if Mom moving to Charleston had anything to do with how my life changed so much. I still have no idea why she chose to move down the street from us.

  Things started to change quite drastically after Easton met my Mom. For years, I was able to come up with excuse after excuse to why Easton couldn’t meet her. I didn’t want him to see how selfish she was, or how she treated me. Easton didn’t know about my past with Carter. I didn’t tell him about how my father died, and how much I blamed my mother for it. He didn’t know anything actually. I kept my precious memories to myself, only thinking of them as I fell asleep every night. I kept my secrets even closer, reminding myself every day of the pain I went through when Carter broke my heart into pieces. I didn’t open up to anyone while I lived in South Carolina. I chose to keep everything locked away, thinking if I just stopped remembering the past it would eventually go away. It didn’t, but I learned how to pretend to be perfectly put together.