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“Please, Devon, “I begged, almost incoherent with the need I felt for him. He shifted my hips in order to angle the both of us to feel just the right amount of friction. Then, he began to thrust against me; he controlled my pleasure and his while pushing us both past the point of no return. His teeth scraped the skin of my neck. When his lips locked down on my shoulder and he nipped the tender area, I came apart. My thighs locked around his, my hands buried in his hair, and our mouths fused to one another’s. He swallowed my moans as tiny pulses sparked and quivered from the inside out and spread into a giant wave that swallowed me whole.
“Devon,” I moaned, gasping for air. His name was a litany inside my head set on repeat. I was coming undone. Gently, he settled my weight on the counter. I wasn’t even aware we’d moved until the edge of the counter met the back of my knees. I’d been so wrapped up in him that the earth could have titled on its axis, and I’d have been none the wiser.
“God, I missed you, Kara,” He growled, burying his face in the side of my neck. His warm breath on my skin made me shiver. His hand gripped my ponytail holding me in place. He inhaled as if breathing me in and locking my scent somewhere deep inside of him for safekeeping. “I’d like nothing better than to bury myself between your sweet thighs… but I can’t. I have to let you go. I should have never touched you.”
His tucked my head protectively beneath his chin. His hands caressed my back as I slowly rejoined the land of the living and the reality of his words sank in. Devon, did not say what I thought he just said, did he? I must have misunderstood him since all of the blood had rushed from my brain to temporary settle in other regions of my body. While in his arms, I’d lost control of all of my five senses. I was amazed that I could even breathe for myself without him having to give me mouth to mouth.
“I’ve got to let you go, baby,” he murmured.
My blood chilled as my brain finally began to function. The fire he’d set, the one that had been blazing out of control only moments ago, was suddenly doused and I was left a cold pile of ash following the wake of his words. With all of my might, I pushed against his chest, taking him by surprise. His face twisted and as he stepped back; he favored his bad knee. For an instant, there was a moment of regret on my part, but it was quickly replaced and fueled by my anger.
“You bastard,” I sputtered as big fat angry tears began rolling unchecked down my cheeks. I jumped from the counter almost turning my ankle in those fucking shoes. I was never wearing them again!
“Kara,” Devon pleaded, reaching for my arm as I darted past him and ran out the door.
As I rounded the side of my car, I stumbled falling to my knees, landing on the asphalt. I cried harder and yanked off each one of my shoes hating the sight of them. My knees stung and were starting to bleed. I’d scrapped them raw just like the angry gaping wound in my chest where my heart once beat. The sound of the door opening sent me scrambling. I couldn’t bear to look at him. If I did I would shatter like glass beneath his frosty glacier stare. I hated him, but I hated myself more. I should have taken Addie’s advice.
“Kara,” Devon called, and I spun around dropping my keys as I opened my door. Bending down, I grabbed them the same time his hand closed around mine.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I snarled, yanking my hand back, but instead of him listening, he reached out and touched me. His hand caressed my cheek. He appeared as miserable as I felt, but I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him bleed.
My face twisted and I crumbled beneath his gaze. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I brushed his hand aside. “I hate you, Devon McGraw,” I snarled, my voice cracking with emotion. His expression hardened. His gaze gave me frostbite. Without a word, he turned and walked away leaving me alone. “You’re a fucking coward,” I yelled, slinging my shoes at his broad back. Lucky for him, I was a bad aim. They cracked against the shiny, silver, mirrored glass of the garage bay doors, landing on the ground. I wished those damn doors of his would have shattered into a million tiny little pieces. Fuck those shoes, and fuck him!
Once inside my car, I laid my head against the steering wheel drawing in a deep breath. I needed to calm down since I had to drive. Devon hadn’t asked me to come here. This was completely my fault. I inflicted this misery all on myself. Because I just couldn’t let go, was willing to take anything I could from him. Anything he was willing to give me. Wiping my face with my hands, I slipped the key in the ignition and silently prayed my Escort would start. If not, I would walk barefoot all the way back to town before I’d ask Devon McGraw for anything.
The motor made a wheezing sound like a dying cat before finally catching. I glanced over my shoulder backing out and turned around. As I drove down the drive, I saw my car’s reflection in those shiny silver doors glaring back at me in my review mirror. So much for following Brandon’s motto, I thought with disgust. I’d gone big, and now, I was going home… leaving the remains of my heart behind once again. For me, there was no other choice in the matter. I didn’t need it anyway. Sadly, it had always belonged to Devon and always would.
CHAPTER FIVE
A BINGE WAS DEFINITELY WHAT the doctor ordered, so I stopped off at the local grocery store and grabbed a couple pints of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer section. There was nothing like cookie dough ice cream to make a girl feel better about life when everything went straight to hell. Thank God everyone in this town was probably at Fred’s having lunch following church services, the usual gathering place on Sundays. This town was so predictable.
I made my way to the checkout oblivious to the strange glances directed my way. Mavis was working so I waited in her line and sat down my items at the register, grabbing three Snickers from the candy bar rack smartly positioned near the check out. Whoever had thought of that was a freaking genius!
Mavis Davies was my mom’s best friend. She reminded me of one of those old 1950’s pinup girls; the kind you find in the black and white ads or on a calendar hanging in the office of a rundown deserted airplane hangar. Back in her hay day, Mavis had been stunning.
Her wrinkled but kind face observed me curiously, making me cringe beneath the stare of her keen brown eyes that were hidden behind the thick black frames of her glasses. Underneath her red smock, her once banging body had softened with age. It was to be expected. We all aged, but I’d seen pictures of her and my mom back then and they’d both been stunning.
With wide eyes, she reached up and patted her sleek, silver gray bob, and fiddled with her bright red hairband. She was Crawley County’s very own regular real life version of Betty Boop. “Kara, honey,” she declared in her high pitched little kid’s voice that sounded as if she’d sucked the helium from a balloon. She eyed me warily as she scanned my items. “You need me to call your momma, baby?”
I sniffled at her pity, feeling like crying some more, then fiddled with the ends of my ponytail. Anxiously, I shifted. The tiles beneath my feet were ice cold. No wonder Mavis thought I needed my mother; I probably appeared as lost as I felt. I didn’t even have any shoes on. “No, Mavis, I’m fine,” I replied, trying to reassure her. “Everything I need will fit into that plastic sack,” I said, indicating the bag that Mavis was placing my items inside.
“Girl, you look like a hot mess from a train wreck,” she declared, taking in my bedraggled appearance.
I shrugged my shoulders, eyeing the total on the register and reached into the pocket of Brandon’s shorts pulling out a twenty-dollar bill. I handed it to her, and she paused in mid-reach staring back at me. I wished she would just take the damn money and finish checking me out so I could get the hell out of here. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I glanced over my shoulder at the woman who stood behind me. She was staring at my bare feet. When her eyes met mine, I tried to smile and quickly glanced away.
“Here’s your change, doll,” Mavis said, snatching the money from my hand, placing it into the register at the same time she handed me back my change. I shoved it into the pocket of
my shorts and peered back at Mavis, expectantly waiting for her to give me my bag. Any day now, I thought, and when she finally handed it to me, she was wearing a sympathetic grin. Mavis was never in a hurry. “You go on home and get some rest. It looks like you’re in a bad way, child. Tell your momma I will see her Wednesday evening at Bingo.”
“Will do, Mavis,” I told her and walked toward the entrance/exit of the Piggly Wiggly as quickly as my feet would carry me. Mavis was a nosey old bat. I was sure my mom would know I’d already been here before I even stepped outside these doors.
“Kara, where are your shoes?” Mavis yelled, attracting the attention of the few customers inside the store and drawing their focus to my shoeless plight.
I kept on walking and practically ran across the parking lot to my Escort with my bag of Ben and Jerry’s and Snickers bouncing against my thigh. It had not been one of the smartest moves on my part by stopping at the store. I should have driven straight home. By the end of evening, it would probably be known county wide that I had come into the Piggly Wiggly looking like a hobo on crack. Let them gossip, I didn’t care. I only planned on sticking around until the end of the week. I had a job and an apartment waiting for me. I had a life separate from Crawley, and one that didn’t include Devon.
Opening the door of my Escort, I glanced briefly at the very familiar older orange and white stripped Ford pickup truck that had pulled into the parking place right beside of me. I climbed inside my car. It was hot so I rolled down the window, sticking my key in the ignition. When I glanced up, I found Devon’s Uncle Clyde standing by my window. What the hell did he want? I thought curiously, knowing by that look on his face he was as happy to see me, as I was to see him.
“Heard you were back in town, girl.” Clyde stated, his grayish blue eyes regarding me suspiciously.
Clyde had raised Devon since he was a baby. Devon’s mom had died from complications of childbirth, and his dad had been overseas at war only to return home four months later in a casket. All Devon had known of his parents were the stories Clyde had shared of them over the years. My heart ached for his loss, especially when he mentioned them — which was something he rarely did. When it came to matters of the heart, Devon was tight lipped. Communication wasn’t really his style.
Clyde stared down at me, taking note of my appearance. He had no right to judge me. He was in his mid-forties, but looked like at least a decade older. Hard living was what my momma had told me whenever I’d complained about Devon’s uncle and his less than friendly behavior. Clyde wore a button up blue and white checked shirt, a pair of worn jeans, and scuffed boots. A faded blue ball cap covered his silver streaked hair, which was a little long and shaggy, reminding me of Devon’s. “You sticking around long?” He asked, his burly voice rumbling up from deep in his chest.
“Well, good afternoon to you too, Clyde. Mighty nice weather we’re having. It has been ages since the last time I’ve seen you,” I retorted, watching his mouth flatten into a hard thin line. Take that! Score one for Kara. Clyde, zero!
Clyde always brought out the worst in me. He was nothing more than a judgmental old bastard whom I’d only tolerated because of Devon. What was it to him anyway? I thought snidely. Clyde had never approved of my relationship with Devon. I didn’t need him stopping by or any of his polite pretenses.
With narrowed eyes, he bent down until we stared each other right in the eyes. We were almost nose to nose. “You need some manners, Kara. I asked if you planned on staying long in town,” he repeated, and I bit my tongue, holding onto my temper. He was pissing me off. My mama had tried to raise me better, but Clyde wasn’t going to make me feel ashamed.
What was it with his twenty questions, anyway? If I had known it was National Shit on Kara Day, I would have stayed curled up in Brandon and Cal’s guest bedroom until tomorrow morning. First it was Devon giving me all kinds of mixed signals, then Mavis with the third degree, and now it was Clyde.
“Not that it’s any of your business, Mr. McGraw, but I plan on leaving Friday. I came to town for the wedding and to visit my mom,” I informed him. There was a frosty bite to my tone that I knew he hadn’t missed due to the sudden narrowing of his beady eyes. He straightened, staring down his long nose at me. I turned the key in the ignition and started the car, trying my best to ignore him. I just wanted to go home. I didn’t need any more hassle, especially not from him. He wasn’t one of my most favorite people.
“Have you seen my boy?” he asked, and I shifted the car in to reverse before looking back up at him. I’d had enough of this! There was ice cream in my bag, and it was melting! I didn’t have to answer to him. He wasn’t my keeper. I just wanted to get on home, take a shower, hit the bed, eat ice cream and Snickers, and watch Hope Floats until I passed out or ended up in a sugar coma. The rest of my day was planned, and I didn’t need Clyde or any of his bullshit messing that up for me.
“Listen, Clyde,” I said sternly, wanting to point my finger at him, but I kept my hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel while silently praying for patience. “You don’t have to worry about Devon. I received his message loud and clear.”
Clyde laughed, shaking his head. “Ha girl, I doubt it! That boy never had any sense when it came to you,” he replied, and then his expression grew somber. “I feel as if I’ve wronged you, girl. It wasn’t right of me to turn you away at the hospital that day, but Devon was insistent. What happened to Devon had nothing to do with you.”
That last part confused me. I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Clyde?” I asked, shifting the car into park since he had more than peaked my curiosity. Dumbfounded, I sat there staring back at him. His big meaty hand rubbed the back of his neck, and he suddenly seemed uncomfortable.
“I don’t feel right airing business out here in front of the Piggly Wiggly,” Clyde told me then glanced down at his wristwatch. “You drive out to the farm this evening around seven o’clock and we’ll talk. Get everything straight before you head back to that big city life. I’ll see you at seven, Kara.” He said then turned and walked away before I even had a chance to argue.
This day just kept getting stranger and stranger. During the drive home, I called Addie explaining the weird conversation I’d had with Devon’s uncle. She appeared to be as clueless as I was, but told me as soon as Jake returned from the garage she would administer the third degree and call me back. Before we hung up, I’d promised to meet her tomorrow at Fred’s for lunch. My mind was racing. My emotions were all over the place, and it wasn’t even three o’clock yet.
When I pulled into the driveway, I sat in my car staring at my childhood home. The metal roof of the trailer was rusty in places and needed a fresh coat of paint along with the front porch. The navy tin had been blistered by the sun and was now a dull, faded, gunmetal blue. Mom had tried to cheer the place up by hanging a couple of baskets of pink and purple cosmos along the porch banisters.
My dad was a real piece of shit. He abandoned the both of us when I was only a baby, and his desertion had a huge impact on my life. I wasn’t sure, but I got the feeling he had mistreated my mom, although she never said anything about it. I had overheard some conversations growing up between her and Mavis. In some ways, I was so much like Devon. My circle was small. It was hard for me to let people in. It was hard to trust. If you trusted someone, you made yourself vulnerable. At an early age, I’d learned that valuable lesson from my absentee father and then the same one from Devon at nineteen. Men seldom kept their promises when it came to matters of the heart. The men in my life had a tendency to just walk away without a word of explanation.
At one time, my mom had worked three jobs; determined to keep a roof over our head and food on the table. Every sacrifice she’d made was because of her love for me. I’d started work at sixteen trying to help ease some of her burden. At the beginning of my senior year, my mom began cleaning a few of the office buildings in town. With the new job, she made more money, and insisted that
she wanted me to focus more on my grades that year instead of working. I needed scholarships to go along with my financial aid. She didn’t want me stuck in Crawley for the rest of my life. She didn’t want me to have to depend on a man. She wanted better for me. I’d done as she wished obtaining a degree in business and found a job at the firm of Smith and Wooten in Banton County as an account. Dover City was nothing like home, and there were no reminders there of Devon except for the ones I carried around inside of my heart. At the time, it had been for the best.
Numbers were my thing. I’d always been good at math. The job at the firm was a great opportunity. After the break up, the only time I’d truly felt alive was when staring into the accounting software on my computer screen, entering in numbers, and compiling reports. Unlike people, numbers were predictable. I loved my job, but I wasn’t happy. My life was downright pathetic, and I didn’t know if it was possible for anyone to truly find happiness. Sometimes, I thought it was just a myth.
Little did my momma know that I longed to come back home. The only reason I’d stayed away was because of Devon. I couldn’t bear the thought of him having a life that excluded me. It was easier to start over somewhere new where the chances of running into him were slim to none. So, I’d ended up moving three hours away knowing no one in Dover City; not a single soul.
That was how I’d survived the past few years, taking it day by day while trying to focus on my work and those around me… trying hard not to think about Devon or what I’d lost when he’d pushed me away. I was content, but not happy. It was possible for those two ideas to exist within the same plane without coinciding with one another.
Mom’s little maroon Geo sat alongside the back of the trailer. Each month, I sent her money even though at first she’d refused to take it. Momma was stubborn like that, but I’d eventually worn her down and knew the little extra I sent helped out. There was no reason for her to feel guilty about accepting money from me since it was impossible to ever repay her for all that she had sacrificed by raising me on her own. If anything such as true happiness existed, then I wished it for my momma.