Break The Line Page 7

  “God, I need a nap. Call me if anything changes, I’ll come back down this afternoon,” she says to a vet assistant closing the pharmaceutical cabinet.

  When we hit the sidewalk in front of Liza’s clinic, a familiar voice calls out to us. “Hey there pretty lady.”

  “Ugh. I’m not in the mood for this,” Liza says without turning around, throwing her hand up in the air as she continues down the sidewalk toward my Jeep. “Hey, Jess.”

  “Wait up!” he calls out while jogging toward us, forcing us to stop before we are able to make our escape.

  “Hey Danni, how’s your dog? Benson said he had to haul him down here for you,” he says, the words instantly making me defensive.

  “Yeah, Benson was with me when Beau was bitten.”

  “Gotta watch out for the snakes,” he says with an edge to his voice.

  “Is Benson with you?” I ask, peeking over his shoulder, looking for any sign of him. I find myself missing him already.

  “Nah, he’s in his room, hopefully resting up for the Elite.”

  “I see. I thought the boat wouldn’t be ready?” I ask.

  “Benson might be modest, but I don’t mind telling you he’s a big deal. There’s a lot of sponsors anticipating he will show up Tuesday, and they are willing to pay a lot of money to get that boat in the Georgia waters on time,” he says, winking.

  “Oh. Well, that’s good news, Jess,” I say, my heart not matching the words coming out of my mouth.

  “Well, it would be, but here’s the thing, Red, Benson’s hell-bent on stayin’ here with you. I’ve seen a lot of women, in a lot of towns, throw themselves at Benson Howell. But I ain’t never seen him forego a tournament to be with one of ’em. I’d hate to see him blow another title for some fling.”

  “What are you? His keeper?” Liza says, pulling her sunglasses off her face to level him with a glare. She steps closer to my side.

  A slow smile spreads across Jess’ face, and he takes a step back holding both hands in the air. “Friend, cameraman, manager. And as his manager, I don’t mind telling you that I’m going to do everything I can to get him out of this town as fast as possible. See you ladies around,” he says, turning away and walking down the sidewalk.

  “Prick,” Liza mumbles under her breath, as we make our way to my Jeep. I look back at Jess crossing the street corner, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m betraying L.J. for something as trivial as a summertime fling.

  * * * *

  The cushions of my couch are pulling me down into them and I lay my head back and close my eyes. I have several hours before Benson shows up, and the stress of what may or may not happen this evening is wearing me down. There is something about him that won’t let me look the other way, something that keeps drawing me in. As soon as I close my eyes, welcoming the impending nap, I hear a truck engine coming up the road and my heart begins racing from the adrenaline. I can’t tell if I’m excited or irritated, but the butterflies in my stomach are there.

  “You’re early, Angler,” I say, walking out onto my porch with my hands on my hips. There’s a mischievous grin on his face that causes the battle between excitement and irritation to be over. There’s no use in pretending I’m not happy to see him, because it doesn’t seem to matter to him either way. No matter what I throw at him, he’s got all the right answers.

  “Well, I got to thinking. I don’t see how it can possibly be fair that you got to take me up there,” he says, nodding toward the hills behind my house, “and I haven’t gotten to take you to a place that means a lot to me. Tonight is going to be on your terms, I’m straight on that. But this afternoon belongs to me. Get your shoes on; I’ll wait in the truck.” He jogs back around to the driver’s side. Shaking my head and smiling, I walk back inside, for once doing exactly what I’m told.

  * * * *

  His strong arms reach around me, and his chest is pressed against my back. “Now, I’m sure you think you know how to do this, but let me show you the right way,” he says, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

  “Next thing you’re gonna tell me is it’s all in the flick of the wrist,” I say, feeling at ease out here on the shoreline with him. There’s a calm washing over me that I haven’t felt in such a long time.

  “Nah, it’s the bait,” he says, and I laugh against his chest. He reaches around and presses his lips to my temple causing my eyelids to flutter closed. “All right, now show me what you got.” He slaps at my rear and stands back, folding his arms across his chest. I pull the fishing rod back and cast the line out about twenty feet from the banks. “Not bad,” he says, reaching in the cooler and pulling out a bottle of water. I watch as the bobber floats in the lake, waiting for any sign that a Brim is nibbling at my cricket.

  “I can see why you love this so much; it’s peaceful,” I shout over to him, fishing several yards away. His jaw muscles tighten from his smile, and he shakes his head.

  “Shhhh woman, you’ll scare the fish away. Just relax, remember the ground rules we discussed.” I realized on our drive that he didn’t bring me out here to show me how to fish, or to even talk, which he so kindly laid out in the rules of fishing. He brought me out here to calm me down, and give me some peace before tonight. I look back over to him, and I feel my guard starting to crumble away. The muscles in his arms are tanned and toned from years of reeling in lake monsters. His ash-blond curls flip out underneath his baseball cap, and the sudden urge I have to run my hands up his neck causes me to quickly look away.

  “Liza came over this morning. We went into town and ran in—” I begin.

  “Baby, I love that mouth of yours . . . trust me, but right now I just want you to close it. Whatever it is you want to talk about, save it for tonight. No talking about things you worry too much over. Just breathe in the clean air, relax in the shade . . . fish,” he says, not turning to look at me, and keeping his attention on the lake.

  We’ve been sitting out in the weeds and grass for over an hour, not saying a word. Every once in a while, I catch Benson staring at me while I’m throwing the line out into the lake, and he throws me a wink. We stayed in perfect silence, enjoying the quiet comfort of nature and each other. It was exactly what I needed, and he knew it without me even having to tell him. The magnetic pull I’ve been fighting since day one is growing stronger, and my will to fight it is weakening.

  When he pulls in to my driveway, he leans over in the seat pulling my face to his. “I can’t wait for tonight, and to hear about your day. I know you’re worried . . . don’t be.” I give him an appreciative smile as I slide out of the passenger seat.

  “See you in a couple hours.”

  * * * *

  I slip on a pair of jeans and slide my boots over my calves, then stare at myself in the mirror while I smooth my hands over the cream-colored lace top. I can hear his truck engine coming down my dirt driveway, and I take a deep breath.

  I’m coming down the hallway when he bounds up the front porch steps, and he smiles at me through the open screen door. He doesn’t ask to come in. He doesn’t ask to pull my body up against his. And he doesn’t ask to press his mouth against the base of my neck, sending a wave of chills swimming across my arms. He smooths his lips up my neck, stopping at my ear.

  “Missed you,” he says, and I smile against the stubble on his cheek.

  “Clearly,” I say, leaning my body into his.

  “How’s Beau?”

  “So much better. He gets to come home tomorrow.”

  “That’s great, babe. I’ve been waiting to check on him all day. Can I use your bathroom?” he says, walking down the hallway. The term of endearment takes me off guard, almost as much as I liked hearing it. He looks back over his shoulder, and I nod my head yes. He walks in, not shutting the door.

  “I ran into Jess today,” I call out to him, feeling a little awkward talking to him as he relieves himself.


  “Should I apologize for him?” he asks.

  “He says your boat is almost ready.”

  “Uhhh, that’s contingent,” he says, walking out of the bathroom, pulling up his zipper.

  “On?”

  “The driver.” He cringes in anticipation of my reply.

  “Benson—” I begin.

  “Nope. It’s my boat, my decision.”

  “You might change your mind after tonight,” I say, my turn to grimace.

  “Challenge accepted.” He tilts my chin up between his thumb and finger. “Stop trying to get rid of me. Besides, I like this town and the people in it. Which I haven’t seen enough of yet . . . the town that is.” He winks before bending down to place a gentle kiss on my lips. “Danni, I know this isn’t easy for you. Whatever it is we’re about to do, thank you for letting me be here.”

  “I don’t want to keep you from your tournament. I don’t want you to get in trouble with your sponsors. I don’t know what this is,” I motion between the two of us, “but I can’t make you any promises. I don’t know if it’s worth it.” I let the words sink in to him and to my heart. His forehead creases, and he shoves his hands into his pockets.

  “Yeah, Danni. I know. But try,” he says, mimicking the advice that seems to follow me around everywhere I go. “What exactly did Jess say to you today?” His tone is concerned.

  “That you’re a big deal.”

  “Being a big deal to a bunch of money hungry sunglasses and bait companies doesn’t matter to me, Danni. It never has. Now, being a big deal to you? That’s another story…” he says, walking over to my kitchen table and grabbing my purse. He holds it out for me to take, and I slide it from his hands. “Ready?” He raises an eyebrow, holding the screen door open for me.

  I walk out onto the porch, the sun tempting the stars with the promise of nightfall. Benson places his hand at the small of my back, giving me a gentle nudge toward his truck. He leans down, whispering in my ear, “It’s going to be ok, baby.” I smile up at him, knowing that no matter what happens tonight, no matter what heartache I experience and no matter if I live to regret bringing Benson with me, that at least I tried.

  Chapter Nine

  Benson

  “Lead the way,” I prompt her to look at me or at the very least speak. I start the engine and wait. I’ll drive in circles all night until she tells me where I need to go. She has a look on her face that tells me she’s regretting asking me to come along, but I’m not giving in. I’m not going to let her get away with it like everyone else in her life seems to. She might make it hard as hell, but I’ve never backed away from a fight worth fighting, and I’m not going to start today. “I got all night, Danni.” I pull my hands behind my head, lean back, and close my eyes. I hear her take a deep sigh, and I smirk.

  “Head toward downtown and keep going,” she finally says, and I shift down into reverse. “This isn’t going to be what you think it is.”

  “The only thing I’m thinking right now is that you look good sitting in the passenger side of my truck, even if you do look scared as hell,” I say, laughing and trying to lighten the mood. It works, and she gives me an apologetic smile.

  “I’m sorry. I know I’m not good company right now.” She reaches over and lightly massages the back of my neck. “It’s depressing, tragic, and something that will be a part of my life forever . . . and I understand if it’s too much. Hell, it’s too much for me most days. Just know I understand if you leave this town and never look back. I wish I could,” she says, turning her face to look out the window at the town passing by.

  “Hey,” I say with a hard tone. She turns her head to me quickly, obviously taken off guard by my offense. “Why do you keep doing that? You keep offering me an out that I haven’t asked for. Stop giving me permission to pretend there isn’t something going on here between us. There is. We want the same things, Danni. I’m just willing to give you more than you’re ready to take,” I say, reaching behind my head and grasping her hand. I hold it tightly against my leg, a little bit pissed off, but I don’t scare easily.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to . . . how to do this,” she says, throwing her other hand up in exasperation.

  “Well, you already are doing this, so give me, and yourself, a little more credit.” I pull up at the last traffic signal that takes us out of town, and she waves her hand for me to keep driving.

  “L.J. and I were together since we were fourteen,” she begins. I don’t take my eyes off the road or make any sudden movements. I feel like a predator watching my prey coming closer to my den. One false move and she’ll dart back into hiding. “It was the summer right after graduation, before we went off to school. We were going to go together.” I chance a look, and she’s smiling at the memory. “Liza and I were going to room together in the dorms, and L.J. and our friend Thomas were going to live across campus.” She grows quiet and I squeeze her hand, coaxing her to continue.

  “It was my birthday. I wanted to take the boat out for the day and just relax with L.J. and our friends. The fishermen were everywhere; it was the Bassmasters Pro Tournament that weekend. So, we went to a little sandbar on the far side of the lake, just around the corner from where your boat hit the tree trunk; it was the only spot the fishermen weren’t swarming around,” she says, glancing at me and I nod my head, waiting for her to continue. “Turn left here.” She points at a four-way stop sign ahead.

  “I had just gotten out of the water, and I was drying off when I realized my necklace was no longer around my neck. It was stupid of me to wear it in the water. L.J. had just given it to me that morning, as a gift. He had taken me up to the mountain clearing, at midnight, the very moment I turned eighteen.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “Just a couple more miles, on the right. You’ll know it when you see it.

  “L.J. dove back into the water to find it. He kept diving down and resurfacing. Each time he came back up, he would assure me that we wouldn’t leave until he found it. I stood there on the front of the boat . . . crying, over a damn necklace.”

  I see a small town up in the distance, and I know we are getting close. Danni seems so lost in the memory of that day, that I don’t dare interrupt her to ask her what I’m supposed to be looking for.

  “Thomas saw it first. He started waving his arms in the air to get the fisherman’s attention, yelling for them to stop. But it was just going too fast. L.J. came up for air, smiling with my necklace twisted around his fingertips, and the boat didn’t even see him.” She closes her eyes tightly, wishing away the memory.

  “Thomas and I both dove into the water, but it was almost like Beau sensed the danger long before we did. He was paddling toward L.J., clawing at the water to get to him. I can remember hearing screaming, but I don’t know if it was mine or Liza’s. Thomas got to him first, flipping him over and trying so hard to pull him back to our boat. Thomas wasn’t the best swimmer. I remember screaming for him to hurry. We all knew it was too late, and that no matter what, things would never be the same. The boat was just going so fast,” she says, finally looking up from her lap and out the windshield.

  “Danni—” I start to say, but she stops me.

  “We’re here.”

  I look around, but all I see is an elementary school on the left side of the road, and then another brick building with a large courtyard on the right. I look over to Danni, confused, and she points to my right signaling for me to turn in.

  The entrance is lined with cedar trees and lamp posts lighting the driveway. An arched sign sits at the end of the pavement with spotlights illuminating, “East Lake Center.”

  “Just park wherever,” Danni says, reaching to the floor to get her purse. I pull into the parking lot and turn off the engine. Danni takes a deep breath and locks her eyes on mine. “Are you ready?” she asks. I nod my head yes, not entirely sure where we are or why she has brought me here. She h
ops out of the truck and waits for me to walk around, holding out her hand for me to take.

  The automatic doors slide open, and I’m instantly hit with the smell of antiseptic masked by an overuse of air freshener and cleaning supplies. Danni walks over to a reception desk on the left where a woman looks up and smiles at her warmly. “Hi Danni, how you doin’ today?” she asks.

  “I’m good, Mrs. Watley,” Danni says, and the woman’s kind eyes look to me. She tries to cover her surprise by fidgeting with a stack of files on her desk. “This is Benson.” Danni smiles, while offering no other explanation. I watch as she writes our names on a lined sheet of paper, and the woman hands her two lanyards with the word VISITOR in bold black letters plastered to the front.

  Danni pulls it over her neck, and I do the same. “Let’s go,” she says, and I follow her down a long, wide hallway with doors lining either side.

  Several people wearing scrubs pass by, smiling and waving at Danni, obviously familiar with her. Danni’s pace slows, and she comes to a stop in front of a cream-colored door. Her hand stalls on the handle, and she looks back at me over her shoulder. I give her a small nod, not sure if I’m prepared for what’s waiting for us on the other side.

  The room is small, cold, and containing enough space for a hospital bed, recliner, and a wooden dresser with a television placed on top. There is a large window on the far wall, and in front of it sits a man in a tilted back wheelchair, staring blankly out into space. Danni walks over to him and smooths her hand along the back of his head, leaning down to kiss his cheek. I look to my right and a medical chart sits in a plastic holder, the name Lawrence James scrolled at the top.

  “L.J., I brought someone with me today,” Danni says, walking over to the curtains and pushing them back farther. She hasn’t looked me in the face, and I know she’s worried about my reaction. Hell, I’m worried about my reaction. She places her purse on the recliner, then walks back over to the wheelchair. She turns the chair to face me, where a young man with a distant look in his eyes stares past me, unblinking, with his mouth slightly agape. There are tubes coming from his neck, and a bag of urine is attached to his side. I swallow hard, at a loss for words. “L.J., this is Benson,” she says, and his only response is to sit there, strapped to the chair, motionless. I hold my hand in the air and give a small wave, hoping that the smile I’m trying to force onto my face is there.