Healing Hope Page 4
“I gotta get going, Ma, but I promise I’ll get there and get those bulbs taken care of. Love ya,” I say in a rush and end the call. I quickly tuck my phone in my back pocket and step out onto the street looking both ways before jogging across the road.
I quietly trailed behind her, within a safe distance, and observed the woman that lit a fire in me. I’m sure it wasn’t the reaction she was going for but she intrigued me. Her need to keep her distance, to appear unavailable only made me want to know her more. The mystery of who Hope truly was, the part of her she fought so much to hide was the part I wanted to know most.
I wanted to know more.
I wanted to know it all.
Chapter 6
Hope
I loved the history of Kansas City, I always have. The historic buildings, the beautiful fountains. Even in a time of darkness their beauty shined. Over the last year, I hadn’t really taken the time to walk the streets, admiring the views.
I missed the jazz music filtering out onto the streets from the clubs late in the evenings. The times Walker and I would get an ice cream, or even a coffee on the cooler evenings, and sit just outside the Blue Room listening to the hypnotic sounds.
I’ve been trying, truly I have. Trying to let go of this guilt buried within me that held me back from enjoying the things I once loved. I tried to let go of the knotted feeling inside me that I felt every time something made me smile or even laugh. It’s a daily battle.
I even went as far as emailing an old friend last night. One I hadn’t talked to since college. I think I had hard feelings toward her because Walker had shown an interest in her at one point. It wasn't her fault, I know, but it still was something that was hard to watch.
I wanted to enjoy life again, I wanted to wake up in the mornings as if I had a purpose, but it is difficult. It always feels like I am moving in a sea of black sludge, and the more I fight it, the more I sink. Hiding out, ignoring the world around me just seems safer.
I stop in front of a place that also holds memories of me and my best friend.
A fountain that runs nearly a block long, the water trickling down toward the street below. I pause for a minute, closing my eyes, listening to the sound of the water. The peacefulness it provides has me almost seeing Walker’s smile in my mind.
“You are such a dork.”
“Don’t kill my buzz,” I whisper, my head tilted up toward the sky, my eyes closed. The sun warming my face.
“What buzz, you haven't drank a thing.” Walker’s words fan out over my cheek as he leaned in close.
“Not that buzz.” I don’t even take the time to look at him as I continue to soak in the rays and listen to the calming sound of the water. “I’m referring to the one I get whenever we come here. The simple enjoyment of the peace it brings. That’s the buzz, and sharing it with my best friend only makes it better.”
I have memories like that often. Before, they used to cause me to break down and practically fall apart, but now I welcomed them. They were my way of holding on to Walker. A way to ensure that even though he was gone, he was still here with me. Tucked away safely in my heart, where I would always keep him.
“It’s a beautiful sound, isn’t it?”
I jump in reaction to the sound of a deep voice near my ear. As I spin around, my head collides with another. The simultaneous sounds of the two of us groaning in pain fill the air.
“Damn,” the deep raspy tone of the man rings out. “First you chuck a pillow at my head, and now you resort to head butting.”
I squint past the sun, still holding my throbbing head, and look into the deep blue eyes of none other than Travis Donovan. The cocky, egotistical electrician that thought he was God’s gift. Okay, fine, so he was fit, with gorgeous eyes and an amazing body, but that wasn’t everything.
“Had you not been an ass then, and invaded my personal space now, neither would have happened.” Again, cue the bitch. What was it about this man that makes me so mean?
“Again, you were the one checking out my ass.”
There he goes, bringing up things I need him to just let go.
“What do you want anyway?” Change the subject, Hope, I chant to myself.
“Just saw a pretty lady enjoying a gorgeous view.” I narrow my eyes at him. “I get one helluva rise out of you, don’t I?” I choose to leave his question unanswered. “It’s the eyes, isn’t it? Or maybe my dazzling smile?”
Then he flashed that grin I’d seen a few times already, and I feel my heart rate spike a little.
“You can touch it, ya know.”
“Excuse me?” I wrinkle my brows in confusion.
“My ass,” he turns just slightly. “I don’t mind.”
“You are impossible, ridiculous, and such a—” My mind goes blank.
“Hottie,” he attempts to finish my sentence, and it takes all I have not to slug him. Was he serious?
I huffed as I fisted my hands at my sides and he chuckled. This reaction only infuriates me further.
“You can go now.” Because if you don’t, I’m gonna punch you. I may have played out that very thing in my mind, over and over. I may have also played out a number of other things involving this man, too. I’ll leave those unsaid and unknown, it was for the best.
He steps closer and I take in a deep breath. “Nah, I think I’d rather just stand right here and enjoy the view.” Again I want to throttle him, and I’ll admit move in a little closer to him at the same time.
My eyes involuntarily close for a brief second, and when I open them I find him staring back at me. He was still very close in proximity to me and my body betrayed me. My heart raced, my palms began to sweat, and my tongue juts out to wet my lips. The worst part was I think he noticed it, too. HIs gaze lands on my lips and his grin slowly stretches out over his lips.
“Then I’ll leave.” My voice cracks and my nostrils flare with irritation.
I don’t wait for his reaction. I surely don’t wait for him to respond before I spin around and practically stomp down the road toward the place I parked my car earlier.
“Ass of a man,” I mumble. “Thinks he has the right to get all up in my space.”
I had never been so irritated by a man before. I had never in my life wanted to punch a man yet tackle him at the very same time. Every single time he has been near me I feel so jumbled inside, like I can’t think straight. I know the things I should say to him, yet they aren’t the things I truly feel. He inflicts such a contradicting array of emotions that I swear at times I feel crazed. My pulse quickens whenever I sense he’s close, my heart beating so fast it actually feels like it might beat right out of my chest. Raw hunger that honestly had me considering attacking a complete stranger without a second thought and taking what my body desired. Contact, intimacy, and unadulterated lust that continued to scream more, more. My body was drawn to him, but my mind was planning the easiest way to torture him. It was all such a confusing conflicting amount of emotions.
What gave him the right? What gave him the idea that I wanted him anywhere near me, spouting off shit that wasn’t even true.
I round the corner and spot my car parked on the left. Zoning in and seeking escape I move faster, holding out my key to unlock the doors. Grabbing for the handle, I jerk open the door and then it dawns on me.
Like a tidal wave smacking me and knocking me into tomorrow.
There was another person that had the ability to get to me the way Travis did. Someone that knew just what it took to fire me up and drive me insane with aggravation.
The fact that the two of them were so very much alike made my chest tighten with unwanted anxiety. I crawl into my car, closing and locking the doors behind me as I press my hands against the steering wheel. I lean forward, resting my head on my hands, slowly taking in one deep breath after another.
But no matter how hard I tried to calm myself, nothing seemed to work.
Travis may irritate me, and on every occasion make me feel volatile toward him, but
the truth was still very heavy in my heart. Beneath all the unsettled feelings he inflicted in me, he was also the only person since Walker’s death that made me feel alive, too. I think that’s where the anger I feel stems from.
I didn’t want to feel that connection with anyone again. That place was a place I decided long ago only belonged to Walker. I swore I’d never allow anyone to touch it.
Chapter 7
Travis
“What the hell was that look for?” I chuckle when Missy leans in close with curiosity. I look to my left and see she, too, is looking in the direction of a certain blonde.
My brother and I met Missy and the boys for lunch and decided to eat outside. Mitchell’s has an outdoor patio that overlooks the street, and after the food was served and half eaten, I leaned back and began looking around. That was when I locked eyes with Hope. She was exiting the sub shop across the street. When she noticed me, she shot me the glare I have come to expect from her.
My sister-in-law noticed, too.
“That would be that pretty lady’s way of playing hard to get.”
“It looks more like her imagining seven different ways to kill you and hide the body.”
I’d argue with her, but she may possibly be correct. So instead I wink in Hope’s direction and watch her get frustrated, just before she flips me off, making me smile and laugh. There she goes again getting all irritated and angry, making me want her more.
“You do know who that is, right?”
I look over at Missy finding her staring back at me. “Yeah, I met her when I had to put some wiring in a house for a dryer. She is a feisty little lady.” I wag my brows and Missy doesn’t give me the normal reaction she’d give from a suggestion like the one I just made. Instead she tilts her head just slightly and a look of sadness takes over her face.
“Hope Larsen,” she says the name slowly. “Doesn’t that sound familiar, as in prior to you doing some writing in her house?
When I wrinkle my brows, she gives me that come on look.
“Her name was all over the news and in the papers. You can’t be that dense, Trav.”
“Yeah he can,” Tripp mumbles around a mouth full of food.
“Do you remember the name Walker Thomas?”
I stare at Missy for a moment as the reality of who Hope truly is dawns on me. My stomach tightens as it feels like it hits the ground beneath me. I look over to find the space Hope stood in only moments ago empty, and my chest only tightens all over again.
“That’s the girl that held him while he died,” I say this to no one in particular. It was just my realization of what she’d done.
“Walker was her best friend.” I listen to my sister-in-law, only I don’t look back at her. “They were so close, inseparable even. She’s not the same girl she was before all that.”
All the words I’ve said to Hope, all the cocky comments and innuendos come rushing back full force. I remember reading the articles in the paper, hearing the stories of those there that day. The words, ‘she wouldn’t leave him, even after they pronounced him dead’ running throughout my mind. I can almost feel that same empty feeling I felt the day I heard the story on the radio, and again later on the television. It was one that rocked our area to the core. A horrific event of chance.
“Marianne knew both of them in school, and she says Hope lost her way after Walker died.” Marianne was Missy’s younger sister. “It’s sad really, because I guess she blames herself for his death.”
It’s then I look at her. “Wasn’t he shot during some robbery gone bad in that convenience store just before the highway?” She nods. “How could that have been her fault?”
She shrugs. “I do know that witnesses saw Walker use his own body to shield her, and even after he was shot, he fought to protect her.”
Missy’s eyes filled with tears, and my own emotions became hard to hide.
I’d been a total dick to her. A self centered pig.
The idea made the food I’d just consumed sour in my stomach.
I stood, leaned over, and offered Missy a kiss on the cheek before telling my brother and the boys goodbye. Both Tripp and Missy gave me a questioning look as I pull out my wallet and threw some money for my lunch on the table.
“I gotta go try to make this right.”
It was all I offer them as I turn away and begin walking toward my truck.
I’d attempted to find Hope as I drove along the streets in downtown. Coming up empty, I decided to go wait at her place instead. A little too forward maybe, but I owed her an apology. Or at least a peace offering.
I’d ignored the phone calls that came, one after another from potential clients and friends. I’d return the calls later.
At a quarter after five, I had almost given up when I see a car round the corner and come in my direction. It slowed, almost stopped even, before turning into the driveway of Hope’s home.
I could see her through the driver’s window staring back at me with the same perturbed look on her face she gave me earlier. I wondered for a moment if she’d even get out with me sitting here when she pushes open the door of her little red car and steps out. She crosses her arms over her chest, jutting out her hip, staring back at me. I could almost imagine fire pouring out of her eyes.
I take in a deep breath and push open the door to my own vehicle as I slowly move across her lawn.
“Do I need to get a restraining order?”
I look up and find no smile on her face.
“I don’t think so.” I lift the single purple flower I held in my hand and hold it out to her. I wasn’t even sure what type of flower it was, I just stopped and picked it along the side of the road on my way to her house. “Peace offering.”
Her gaze shifts to the flower and then back to me. Still she didn’t take it.
“Listen,” I lower the flower, “I’m sorry for harassing you. I thought it was all in good fun. I didn’t mean any offense.”
I watch when she blinks a few times as if trying to clear her thoughts. I see the slight tremble in her lower lip, and for a moment I find myself wondering what I could have done now to inflict this type of reaction. With this girl, it was like hitting a brick wall at every damn turn.
“It’s all right.” Her words break the silence. “Let’s just forget it.”
She closes her car door, steps around me, and begins moving toward her house.
I’m left again staring after her, having mixed emotions running through me.
“Maybe some time we can have lunch or a cup off coffee?” I holler the words after her just as she reaches her front porch. She stumbles on the first step and quickly reaches out to grab the railing. I stare at her back, waiting for her to turn and face me. Only she doesn’t.
“Two friends talking,” I add.
“We’re not friends, Travis,” she twisted to look back at me, “just two people that crossed paths. Nothing more.”
I don’t say anything more, only stand in the very same place watching her until I can no longer see her. The front door to her house is now closed and I’m left feeling no better than when Missy gave me a reality check earlier.
Part of me wanted to go up and knock on her door, but the other part knew it wasn’t for the best. I had a feeling whatever she threw next wouldn’t be a soft cushy pillow. So instead I reached out and placed the purple wildflower on her windshield, the stem just below her wiper before turning back toward my truck.
No longer feeling confident and cocky, but instead feeling a little lost myself.
Chapter 8
Hope
I felt like I couldn't breathe. My chest felt so tight, and my throat constricted as if my airways were shrinking. Leaning back against the door, I allow my body to slide to the floor as I lean against it and hold my face in my hands.
“Those flowers are so pretty.” I look out through the passenger window at the lines of bright purple flowers buzzing by. “I love purple.”
The car begins to slow and I look over at
Walker. “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting you some purple flowers.” He winks just before he put the car in park and pushed open the driver’s door.
I sit in the car and watch as my best friend gathers a handful of flowers so big he can barely hold onto them. When he turns back to face me, I laugh as he holds them up in the air and gives them a little shake.
I’d learned long ago that rarely did Walker not give or get me the things I loved. Even when I didn't come out and ask for those things, it was like he knew what my heart craved. Well, he seemed to know everything besides my hidden affection for him.
Tears ran over my cheeks as I lift my head and rest it on the wooden door behind me. Those purple flowers were along most roads outside of the city. They lined the highways for miles. Those purple flowers were also the same flower Travis just offered.
The overwhelming memories washed over me of all the times Walker brought me that same very flower. After that day, he would pull over along the road regularly to gather them for me. It became an ongoing thing we shared.
Seeing Travis offer the same wildflower was like a kick to the stomach, and it wasn't his fault.
I don’t know how long I sat on my living room floor before I finally decided to stand up. Moving throughout my house, I walked toward my bathroom and slowly stripped myself of my clothing. Flipping on the water, I step into the shower and allow the cool water to run over me. The fact that I hadn’t even let it warm didn’t faze me, but instead felt like the instant wakeup I needed. As the cool water began to warm, I close my eyes and tilt my head back.
Silently I plead for the ache to stop. I want to live again, I want to be able to get through one day without feeling the guilt consume me.
I went to bed still feeling the effects of Travis’ presence mixed with my ongoing sadness. When I woke it was a little easier, more tolerable.