Bellamy

 

My last day at The Inn was uneventful. Which was good. I liked uneventful. Not enough things in life seemed to be as of late. However, it would have been nice to see a little bit of a sendoff. Someone to acknowledge I’d done my job well.

No such luck.

Instead, all I got was the air tinged with the collective feeling of relief from everyone. Including Chef D’alessio.

It just proved my exit from this kitchen was for the best. I loved cooking and I loved working in the culinary arts field, but doing it in a place where no one liked me was far from a dream.

I still liked to think that perhaps I wasn’t disliked, rather than the connections I had.

I caught a few people staring at the large diamond ring on my finger, nestled against the diamond band beside it. I knew people wanted to ask. They were so curious.

But it was hard to ask a personal question of someone you made very clear they were not your friend.

I didn’t volunteer the info either. Let them wonder. Word was likely spreading around the entire resort like wildfire anyway. It was petty, I supposed, but it gave me a little satisfaction to know I had information they wanted and didn’t give up.

I finished all my work an hour early, and instead of offering to help a few of the others with the jobs they seemed behind on, I didn’t. I took off my chef’s coat, made sure the station I’d been working in was pristine, and then turned in everything I had that belonged to the kitchen.

I clocked out early, aware the chef was standing in the doorway behind me, quietly watching. After I pulled my bag over my shoulder, I turned. “I just wanted to thank you for giving me the opportunity to work here at The Inn. I know it wasn’t ideal accepting a hire you didn’t have any say in, but working with you has taught me a lot.”

Like how not to run a kitchen.

He straightened, a little surprise and, dare I say, embarrassment flashed over his features.

“Also, it will always mean something that my late father-in-law believed in me enough to let me work in his best kitchen.” While what I said before was mostly out of politeness, this last part I said with heart and truth. I meant that. Ren gave me a chance when he didn’t have to. When, honestly, it would have been better for him if he hadn’t.

I would never forget that. And I would make sure his namesake didn’t either.

Embarrassment did flush his face then. I guess feeling like you’d somehow let down the late and great Renshaw Mattison was an unpleasant reminder.

Chef cleared his throat. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out. You do have many talents in the kitchen.”

I didn’t know if he actually meant that or not, and to be honest, his opinion of me didn’t matter.

How freeing it was to realize that. To know with absolute truth that I just didn’t care. I had a full, happy life, and it was okay to let this part go. It wasn’t a failure so much as a lesson.

“Good luck,” I bid and left the kitchen.

I knew luck wouldn’t help him. As soon as this season was over, he was out. Liam was already quietly looking for a replacement. I didn’t feel bad about it either, because this resort could do much better.

I knew the job could be mine, but truthfully, I didn’t want it.

I had no desire to go to a place filled with people who resented me and would only do what I said because Liam would intimidate them. I still hoped for a career in food prep, but I didn’t think a place like The Inn was the right fit for me. I wanted something a little more casual, something closer to the heart of the resort and the people who vacationed here.

Yes, that was my brain forming some ideas and dreams. But I would let them percolate for a while before I ever brought them up. For now, my focus was on my son and my husband.

Since I was a little early getting home and my creative juices were flowing—funny how they didn’t start to flow again until after I left my “creative” job—I decided to make some of Liam’s favorite pumpkin bread and then some dinner. Perhaps Liam’s other favorite, chicken and beef tacos with homemade salsa and guacamole.

“How was your last day?” Mom asked, perched on a barstool at the island as I pulled out ingredients.

“Uneventful,” I replied. “I’m glad to be done. Now I can focus on this little guy.” I went on, rubbing my stomach. The baby moved beneath my touch, and I smiled.

“You’ve been through a lot, more than anyone should. I think you deserve some time off to relax and enjoy life.”

“I’m lucky to have that ability,” I said, slicing an avocado in half. I decided to make the guacamole first so Mom and I could snack on it while I baked. “Not everyone has a husband that can support that.”

“That’s true,” Mom allowed. “I hope you don’t feel guilty about it, though.”

“I’m working on it,” I said, honestly.

Once the guac was done, I popped a taste in my mouth and then added a little more seasoning. Afterward, I dunked in a tortilla chip and tried it again.

“Good,” I said and pushed the large bowl toward Mom.

We munched on the dip for a while, talking and laughing, before I pulled back and started on the pumpkin bread.

“I’ve been thinking,” Mom said, and I glanced up. “It’s time for me to get my own place.”

“So soon!”

She smiled. “It’s been quite a while, honey. And you’ll be moving out, too.”

“Not for a while yet. We’re going to stay on here until our house is built.” That would be a while yet. Liam still had someone drawing up some preliminary plans.

“Well, I’m not saying I’m moving out tomorrow, but soon. Holly has been so generous with her home, but I’m not her son and daughter-in-law. I’m just a woman she didn’t know.”

I glanced up from the stand mixer. “Maybe when you first got here, but not now. Now you’re friends.”

“Yes, we are. Which is why I don’t want to take advantage.”

“I understand,” I said, a little sad.

“Don’t worry,” she said, hearing it in my tone. “I’m not going far. I plan to be around as much as possible to see my grandson.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I said, adding one more to the million times I’d told her that over the past couple months.

“Me, too, honey.” She crunched another chip. “I just accepted a job in the accounting department of the hotel, so I’ll be starting there next week.”

“Mom!” I gasped, abandoning the bread and going over to her. “You didn’t tell us you had an interview.”

“I know.”

“Why not!”

“Because I wanted to get it on my own, not because Liam or you put in a word.”

“I completely understand that.” I nodded. “Did you tell them who you are?” It worried me that my mom could be subjected to the same treatment I had been at The Inn.

“Oh, yes, they know. They’re also aware I interviewed and applied without Liam knowing. They liked my qualifications and hired me.”

I hugged her. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you. It will be nice to build a life here and have family around.”

“Yes,” I said. “It will.”

Once I get a couple paychecks, I might rent one of the cabins around here. They seem cozy.

Liam would never let her pay rent, but I kept that little bit to myself. Today it was just nice to know things were coming together for everyone.

My phone rang, and Liam’s name flashed across the screen. An instant smile formed as I picked it up. “Hi,” I answered.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s my wife today?”

I spun away from the counter, putting my back to Mom because I didn’t want her to see the way I madly blushed at just the sound of his voice.

“Good. How’s my husband?”

“I’d be better if I was home with you.”

“Are you almost done?” I asked, going over to where I was making his bread.

“Yeah. I’m finishing up now. You home?”

I made a sound of agreement. “I’m making us dinner.”

“Didn’t you work all day? You need to sit down.”

“I left early.”

“Someone giving you trouble?” he demanded.

“No. I finished, so I left. Last day perks.”

He made a sound, beyond happy I was done there. “How was it? Any regrets?”

“None.”

“There’s something I need to talk to you about tonight.”

“Oh?” I asked, pausing in the middle of what I was doing. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything’s okay. I don’t want you stressing out. There’s just something I want to tell you.”

“You can’t tell me now?”

“I’d rather wait ‘til I’m home.”

“But you’re okay?” I pressed.

“I’m fine.” He assured me.

“I’m making pumpkin bread,” I said, letting it go. If something was terribly wrong, he would have said so.

He moaned. “You know a way to a man’s heart. I’m fucking starving.”

“And tacos,” I teased.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

I laughed.

“Mom there?” he asked, gruff. I could tell by that deep rasp it wasn’t food he was thinking about. And the reason he was asking about our roommates was because he was starving for something he didn’t want to share.

“My mom is. Your mom is still at the office.”

“We need our own place.”

I giggled.

“I’ll be home in a few,” he told me, smile in his voice. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Hurry.”

I held the phone against my ear a few moments after he hung up because I wanted to hang on to that warm, fuzzy feeling he always elicited.

“Young love,” Mom said once I did put my phone aside.

I poured the pumpkin batter into a loaf pan and carried it to the oven. “I’m making tacos tonight. That sound okay?”

“It sounds wonderful, but I won’t be staying.”

“Why not?” I frowned.

“Because you need alone time with your new husband.”

“No!” I insisted. “You are always welcome. We love you.”

“And I love you. Which is why I’m going to give you newlyweds a chance to have dinner as a couple.”

“Mom.”

“Don’t mom me,” she said, stern. “You better take every chance you have to be alone with him, because once that baby arrives, it will be a party of three.”

I relented because she was right and because I wanted some time with Liam.

“Except, of course, when he’s with his nona. Then you can have some alone time.”

I smiled at the image of my mom and my son together. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course. I’m going to head to the resort and do a little celebratory shopping. I think I need a few new pieces of clothes to wear to work.”

“Ooh! Good idea.” I told her the name of a few of my favorite boutiques, and she said she would check them out.

“I’ll be back later on tonight, and if I don’t see you then, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Breakfast?” I asked.

She nodded once. “It’s a date.” She paused on her way out of the room. “Do you want me to stay until Liam gets here?”

“No,” I said, waving her off. “He’s on his way. I’ll be fine.”

She hesitated. I set aside the spoon in my hand. “I’m safe now, Mom. We both are. Crone is still locked up, at least for now. And even still, he said I was free, and we haven’t heard anything from him for months. We can’t live in fear forever.”

“I suppose not.” She agreed. “Some habits are hard to break.”

I nodded emphatically. “I know. But we have to try.”

When she was gone, I started working on dinner. The scent of baking pumpkin bread filled the kitchen and brought Charlie, in all his drooling glory, to my feet.

I gave him a chew bone, and he carried it to the other side of the kitchen and flopped down to slobber all over it.

I made the salsa while the chicken and beef marinated in my own special blend and added it to a bowl beside the guac. After I chopped up some fresh herbs and crisp lettuce, I grabbed some tortillas so I could warm them in the oven.

A thudding sound from somewhere in the house made me glance up. Immediately, I looked at Charlie to note he had perked up, too.

I listened, straining to hear any other sounds, but when none came, I tried to calm my racing heart and get back to dinner. Charlie seemed to have an easier time than me, having turned back to his bone ravenously.

The tortillas were wrapped when I heard the sound again.

This time, Charlie jumped up with a rumble and glanced around. Fear and panic assaulted me, reminding me of all the times I’d been in danger.

Charlie’s nails tapped against the floor when he left the kitchen and started down the hall, as if patrolling for the source of the sound.

Another faint sound made me pause, this one sounding more like scraping than anything else.

Odd, it seemed it was coming from outside the house and not in.

Charlie barked, the hair on his back rising in an intimidating line. Flashbacks of the night I was attacked and he nearly got shot tortured me and made my fingers shake.

“Stay,” I told him and started to back out of the bedroom without moving too fast.

Charlie came forward, as if he knew what I was about to do, but I was faster. I leapt out and shut the door quickly, trapping him in the room.

He barked and scratched at the door when I turned away. I felt bad, but I couldn’t let him out, not until I was sure he wouldn’t be hurt.

Backtracking, I went to the top of the stairs and glanced over the railing. I couldn’t see all the way down, but I called out, “Holly? Is that you?”

She could have just gotten home from work and the sounds I heard was her coming in from the garage.

Holly didn’t answer.

A very familiar, uncomfortable warning feeling made all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I was unable to hold the panic at bay anymore.

Rushing back to the kitchen, I picked up my cell on the island so I could call for help.

Movement over by the giant sliding doors that led out onto the amazing deck caught my eye. I spun, telling myself it was just a shadow, while the other part of me retorted I couldn’t see shadows when it was already dark.

God. It’s already dark outside.

I froze when I realized that shadow I saw was actually not a shadow at all. It was a man, a large, looming figure standing just on the other side of the glass. I watched in horror as he lifted his gloved hands, cupping them around his eyes and leaning so he could peer directly in.

His eyes, which were visible through the wide holes cut out in the black ski mask he wore, looked like freakish, floating balls of white with dark dots in the center.

I screamed and lurched backward, nearly dropping my phone.

The phone! I was practically wheezing with fear when I unlocked the screen. Liam’s contact info was still pulled up from when he’d called before. I hit the call button instantly.

As it rang, I glanced back up at the figure.

He was no longer peeping inside.

Instead, he was hunched over at the handle, picking the lock. Horrified, I watched the bolt on this side of the door begin to turn.

I yelled and lunged forward, forcing it back the way it had been.

The man straightened, shook his finger at me like he was scolding a child, then tried again.

I blocked the attempt. I would play this silly game all night.

Liam’s voice came over the line, and I pressed the phone against my ear. “Liam!”

“…out on the slopes right now. But leave your info and I’ll call you back.”

A frustrated cry broke free when I realized the call had gone to voicemail.

In my distraction, the man unlocked the back door and started to slide it open. I fell on the handle, shoving it closed, and forced the lock back into place.

The man stiffened, clearly angry with this game, and reached around behind him.

I watched in horror as he withdrew a long-barreled gun and pointed it directly at me.