“Romantic weekend. Valentine’s Day was yesterday, remember?”
Boy do I. Number who knows how many I’ve spent alone. “Which is why I’m surprised you’re here.”
He waggles his eyebrows, giving me a secretive smile. “Both Stelle and I were off last night. She had the early morning shift, so I volunteered. Believe me, we celebrated Valentine’s Day.”
“I keep warning him that’s how he’s going to have a brother or sister for Keegan.” I hear Cutter as he slides in next to me. “Fucker just won’t listen.”
Ransom throws a few sugar packets at his brother. “You just wait, my man, when you’re married and you can do whatever the fuck you want, whenever the fuck you want, you’ll be the same way.”
An older woman sitting beside me clears her throat.
Ransom gives her a magnificent smile. “My apologies, ma’am. What can I get you?”
“Hey, what about me?” Cutter slaps his hand on the counter, after Ransom takes her order.
“And me? I was here first,” I remind him.
“The two of you wanted to give me shi- crap.”
“I’m still a paying customer,” I argue. “Don’t make me sue you.”
“Fine.” He rolls his eyes, over exaggerating every move. “What do you want, Shelby?”
“Um, excuse me, where are your manners? You should take care of her first.” I point to the elderly lady.
He huffs a breath, gritting his teeth if the hardening of his jaw is any indication.
When he’s finally taken care of her, he comes back to me. “What can I get for you, Counselor?”
It doesn’t have the same sort of impact when he says it, as it does when Sullivan let’s it loose in that lazy drawl of his. In fact, I don’t even like it. “A black coffee, two creams and two sugars in a to-go cup, please.”
“No food?”
“Can’t eat first thing in the morning, it makes me tired and throws my whole day off. I’ll have some almonds and a cheese stick.”
He acts like that’s not enough to feed an ant, and then turns to go grab a Styrofoam cup. “Coming right up.”
Cutter and I sit beside one another for a few seconds before he starts speaking. “Picked up any interesting cases lately?”
“Like I could tell you, even if I had.”
“Oh c’mon, Shelby, you know I like to hear all about the weird stuff you deal with.”
“So does everybody else. Doesn’t mean I can talk about it.”
“Oh, I know. I can still ask right?”
Ransom puts my cup down in front of me with the requested cream and sugars. “On the house, have a good one, Shelby.”
“Thanks.” I leave a few dollars on the counter anyway, which Cutter grabs and puts in the tip jar. “See y’all later.”
“See ya.”
Business has been slower than I imagined it would since I opened up my practice almost a year and a half ago. Luckily, I had plenty of money saved up when I moved here, and my overhead costs are low.
Doesn’t mean I’m not getting slightly worried though.
I’ve even started looking into doing other types of law. Perhaps bankruptcies and wills. It would be something to offer this small town that they don’t already have.
So far there’s nothing for me to sink my teeth into.
Except for one case.
Helping Karsyn Fallaway face her kidnapper at a parole hearing. Other than that, the cases have been very run-of-the-mill.
“You moved here for run-of-the-mill,” I mumble.
I did, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want something that’s going to challenge me. Something that will have me up at night reading law books. Anything that’ll have me going to the state capital to check on other cases, jurisdiction, and filing motions.
There’s a huge part of me that misses that aspect of my job.
But there’s another part of me that remains scared of it.
The case that made me move here? I’d gotten too close, and I’d almost gotten burned.
Which is why I’ve traded Houston, Texas for Alabama, and why I decided to uproot my life completely. It had required a change, and by God that’s what I did.
I don’t regret it.
At least not all the time.
The bell over my front door rings, causing me to lift my head up in surprise. Most of the time I get phone calls or emails, not in-office visits.
When I see Violet, I give her a questioning look.
“You didn’t come in for lunch, so I figured you got distracted again.” She indicates the covered plate she’s holding in her hand.
Looking at the clock to the left of my desk, I notice it’s after two.
“I guess I did.” I gratefully accept the plate she’s set down and uncover it. My favorite. Meatloaf.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were buttering me up for something,” I laugh as I dig in to the fragrant dish, accompanied with corn and green beans.
She laughs. “Not yet anyway, but who knows what the future holds. Honestly, I just worry about you.” She has a seat, crossing her legs. “You remind me a lot of who I was before Anthony came into my life.”
“Oh really?”
I take a drink of the water bottle I always have.
“Yeah.” She tilts her head to the side. “I was running away from a lot. I had a husband who’d beat the shit out of me. There was a divorce in the process of getting finalized, but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t find me.”
“I’m sorry.” I set my fork down, taking another drink. “I’ve dealt with a lot of cases like that. I’m definitely not running from a husband, current or otherwise.”
Her eyes are sharp, she sees a lot. “You’re running from something though. So I just wanted you to know, if you ever need help, I’m here. We’re here. The Laurel Springs community is pretty close-knit and you’ve already been welcomed in by the LSERT. If you ever need anybody to talk to, you’ve got it.”
Suddenly my appetite isn’t what it was, but I don’t want to offend her by not eating more of the delicious food. I push it away slightly, running a hand through my hair. “I hear what you’re saying and I appreciate it. But right now, I don’t want to go into why I decided to come here.”
“You don’t have to.” She reaches across the table, laying down a piece of paper. “This is my number. If you ever need to talk, just know I’m here.”
My throat tightens and it’s hard to press the words past the strangle-hold it has there.
“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.”
She nods, getting up from the seat and leaving. This time when the bell over the door rings, I’m glad to know it isn’t someone coming in, but her going out.
Leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Memories, nightmares, and dreams.
Sometimes they’re all the same; and I’m proof of it.
Chapter 4
Sullivan
My footsteps beat a cadence on the material of the treadmill I’m running on. A bead of sweat drips from my forehead, rolling down my nose, dangling at the very tip. Shaking my head so it’ll fall off, I lift the back of my hand up to wipe at my mouth.