Page 48 of Secrets That Bind Us

Verity

Present Day

Six Weeks Later

I let my hair drop from the clip I’ve had it in all day, tilting my head side to side to get the kinks out of my neck as I hang up my bath robe and let out a sigh.

Leaning over the tub to turn off the faucet, I do just that – then sink into the bath water.

I close my eyes and hang my head on the lip of the tub, letting the warm water relax me.

I’ve been working on edits the entire day, and that’s on me.

I overthink about the thread of words and read them out loud to make sure they make sense, acting out certain scenes until I not only hear it, but I see it all play out in front of me like a movie.

I sigh, letting the soft music hum around me, taking me back to every conversation my characters had, all the way to the plot twist. I groan out loud, wanting my brain to shut up for a bit.

To just… let me rest. I breathe in a little deeper, hoping the lavender Epsom salt I poured in starts doing its job in relaxing me.

And it is… until I hear the footfalls coming into my room.

Usually Dean is pretty good about not letting the kids come in here while I’m showering, keeping them distracted by helping them with homework, playing outside with them since it’s a little too cool for a swim, or making dinner.

Tonight, I’m having this bath while they watch a movie and we wait for the pizza to show up.

When I don’t hear anything, just more footsteps going about, I take a peek at the bathroom door, expecting it to fly open, but it doesn’t.

I shrug in the water, assuming they got what they needed and went back out to the living room.

Leaning back, I stare at the ceiling, blinking as my thoughts seem to disappear.

I inhale deeply, listening to the music, feeling my limbs getting heavier.

I swallow, but it’s… harsh, and the music slowly fades out.

I can’t hear anything.

I try to sit up, but instead I’m being pulled down ever so slowly.

Under the now black, muddy water… like the water in the pond at the back of the property.

My eyes widen in fear as my lips go beneath the water, and suddenly, I’m shoved beneath the water fiercely. I kick, my legs flailing, and my arms, too, as I fight the pressure off of me. It lets me go enough to gasp for air above the water, but then I’m shoved under again.

My hand looks for the drain’s plug, and I yank it as hard as I can, then stop moving, stop fighting, letting It think It’s won.

“Mommy!”

It lets me go…

I wait under the water that’s rapidly draining, then sit up, taking in a deep, gasping breath. Panting, I look down at the clear water now circling the drain as a knock comes to the bathroom door. Shivering, tears escape me as I croak out a, “Give Mommy a minute!”

“’Kay! Pizza’s here, and yours looks really good!

Dean said I could have a slice if you’re okay with it.

I want the big one.” His shadow beneath the door is replaced by his face, and he pushes his hand through the slit beneath the doorway.

“Pleeeeaazzzzeee. I’ll wash your plate after dinner. Can I have it?”

I blow out a soft, awkward chuckle. “Yes, honey. You can have it.”

“Yes!” Noah pulls his hand away, and I hear his little feet run off to eat my big slice.

I look about the bathroom and shudder, knowing I won’t be taking a bath in here ever again unless Dean is with me. Thankfully, he has no issues with that later on, after he sneaks back inside once the kids go to sleep.

“So, you been to church yet?"

The question sends me through a loop as I look at my best friend of almost twenty years.

Her hazel eyes are glassy, and her cheeks are pink, mermaid hair cascading down her shoulders.

She knocks back her Jameson and asks the bartender for two more.

We're at Church, (ironically), the only other honkytonk bar in town that's a little more catered to bikers. It has a western feel to it, as it should, seeing as this bar still has the swinging, half- double saloon doors like they did when cowboys and outlaws roamed the earth. Old, yellowed wanted posters of James Miller, Billy the Kid, and the Fort Worth Five are framed on the walls. Twinkling lights hang above the bar. They’ve probably been up since Christmas.

That's the thing about small towns– they hold on to the past a little harder than the rest of us, and looking around, I'm kind of grateful. If I would’ve had to dress up, I would've canceled. But we're both here in flattering sundresses with sweetheart necklines and boots.

“Y'allternative.”

That's what Zo and I called ourselves.

We could two-step with the worst of them and mosh with the best.

A memory of skipping school our sophomore year so we could go to the Battle of the Bands out in Frisco hits me so hard, I feel like I'm being knocked back.

Stage lights strobe and change, the crowd around us screams at the band performing.

Sweaty bodies twist and turn, jumping, making us huddle closer.

Dean grabs my hand, rushing me to stand in front of him, to protect me.

He keeps his arms around my middle, taking the brunt of the mosh pit behind us.

Once it slows, I tilt my head to look back at him, but he’s already peering down at me.

Dangerous blue eyes glitter like dark sapphires due to the changing lights and my heart thrums so slowly…

I blink.

What else have I repressed?

The door to the bar opens, and Tiffany Myers steps through.

I dart my eyes away, knock back my own shot, and let the warmth of the whiskey settle in.

I don't normally drink whiskey, but with everything else going on, and Will giving us the news that we'll be opening The Ink Plot sooner rather than later, it felt like a good night to have a girl's night.

In one of the only two bars in the outskirts in a town of barely two thousand people.

Where half of the women here have probably fucked Dean.

And the other half knows I broke his heart and then tried to fuck him.

I groan inwardly and blow out a whiskey-tinged breath before I start doing math in my head and hurt my own feelings. I can't wait to leave Adelaide in my rearview mirror again.

As soon as we walked in, it felt like a record scratched and everyone turned to face me.

I clear my throat. "Out of all the questions you could have asked me, that one was not on my BINGO card."

She shrugs. "Just thought I'd ask, seeing as to how you've kept so much from me recently."

"Ouch," I sigh, knowing I earned that jab. "I haven't gone because I'm still trying to process all of it. Dean. Us. The shop. The parlor. The house. The wedding. Seven hundred pounds of coffee." I flick my gaze to hers and lift a corner of my mouth up into a smirk.

She matches it and starts to giggle. "Oh my God, it was so much coffee."

I start giggling too, "I thought the boxes were gonna fall on top of me."

"The online thing said fourteen ounce bags! I thought it meant fourteen ounce bags!"

I throw my head back this time and laugh, really laugh until we're both pointing to the other because we might be in our thirties, but goddamn, we're still dumb.

Soon my stomach hurts, and Zoey's wiping at her eyes when we finally stop.

I shake my head. "Fuck, I missed you." And it’s true. I’ve missed nights like tonight where I can just be with my best friend.

She blinks at me, still smiling when the bartender gives us our shots, and we knock them back quickly. "Do you… remember that time we went to Austin with our guys, and Dean kept making Van Gogh puns?"

I nod, grimacing at remembering how awful they got.

She tips her empty shot glass to me, still smiling. "That's when I knew The Sheriff was for you."

"Remember that time your daddy went with mine to some pig auction, and we stole your daddy's tractor and went riding around his farm, but it got stuck, and Evan came with his daddy's tow truck, and pulled us out?"

She nods, beaming, eyes glassy.

"That's when I knew Evan was yours. I think y'all were broken up at the time."

"We were."

"Why?"

"I caught him helping some freshman with her homework." She scrunches her nose.

My mouth drops open in shock. "Zoey!"

She tilts her head back, cackles, then covers her face with her empty hand. Her engagement ring glints in the stage lights. "Oh my God, I was so stupid. I just hated seeing him so close to her, and she was all over him. Ugh!"

"I don't think there's ever been anyone else for Evan other than you."

She points at me, still holding tight to the empty shot glass. "Not true. He dated Tiffany Myers in seventh grade when he first moved here for a whole ten weeks. Slimy bastard." She grimaces. "I can't believe he dated someone before me."

I gasp and throw my hands in the air dramatically. "The gall! The audacity! To date a girl before he ever met you."

She slams her hand on the bar top. "That's what I said! I knew you’d get it." She giggles again, then waggles her brows at me. "You know, we fucked in that tractor after you left."

I shake my head. "Of course you did." Then I groan and rub my forehead. "Oh no... you just reminded me Savannah's about to be that age where she's... you know..."

"Horny?"

I gag. “You’re a terrible aunt.”

“I’m the aunt that’s going to get her all kinds of condoms and tell her about that one time Marcus Rowe had chlamydia so bad he had to be hospitalized. I’ll tell her all about the oozing and the odor .” She gags.

I grimace. “I don’t remember that.”

“Yeah, well, it was around the time you and Dean were fucking at least twice a day.”

I feel myself turn a shade of pink so bright I must look like a tomato. “Was I so oblivious?”

My best friend shrugs her shoulders. “You were in love.”