Tessa drove her car down the road heading to the center of Branlen, her headlights cutting through the pitch darkness that surrounded her. She drove with more care down the sloping, winding road, as tough Lucas and his cronies might jump from the shadows at any moment.
She called Atticus on a whim. Tessa realized that she barely knew the man, but between the feeling of unease that being alone at her house instilled in her, and the fact that she felt strangely comfortable and safe around him, she knew that she wanted to spend more time with him. So, dialing his number, she asked him to meet her at Hannagan’s for a drink and was pleased- not to mention, relieved- when he agreed.
The soft glow of the town lights appeared down at the end of the road, and after a few more minutes of driving, Tessa was in the center of town. She drove the last bit of distance to Hannigan’s and scanned the parking lot as she drove in. The lot seemed bare and she couldn’t spot Atticus’s work truck- the only cars there were a handful of older-model trucks and sedans. She slid her car into an open spot and headed into the bar.
Hannagan’s was fairly dead, which wasn’t uncommon for a weekday night. Having her choice of places to sit, she slid into an open spot at the bar, Julianne arriving moments later with her usual smile on her face.
“Well, look who it is,” Julianne said, tossing a coaster onto the bar in front of Tessa.
“Hey, Jules,” said Tessa.
“Still no Lucas?” Julianne asked, pouring Tessa a pint of her usual.
“No,” she said, realizing that she was about to meet Atticus here and that wouldn’t be the best look. “I’m, ah, meeting the electrician who did some repair work today. It, uh, turns out he’s a pretty good artist and he’s going to give me some tips on getting more of my art sold.”
Julianne looked at her with a lowered-eyelid, skeptical expression.
“Hey, no judgements here, girl. I’m on husband number three, remember?” she said, holding up her left hand and pointing to the ring on it. “Henry told me some name he has for it.”
She turned to Henry, who was pouring a line of whiskey shots for a group of construction workers.
“Henry! What’s that thing you called people cheating on each other?” she yelled, Tessa’s face turning a deep shade of red. “That French thing.”
“Luh comedy humaine.”
“Yeah, that,” said Julianne. “Kinda means, people cheat, people break up; it’s just how people are, you know?”
“Oh, OK,” said Tessa. “I’m not doing any of that, though.”
“Sure, sure,” said Julianne with a wink before leaving Tessa with her beer.
But before Tessa had a chance to think about the conversation she just had, Atticus walked into the bar.
Since their encounter earlier in the day, Tessa had been debating whether or not she should’ve done what she did. But seeing him again, in the flesh, Tessa knew that she made the right decision.
He nodded at her with a small uptick of his chin, walked towards where she sat, and slid into the open seat next to her.
“Hello, again,” he said.
“Hey,” said Tessa.
Julianne walked up to them once more.
“Whiskey, please,” said Atticus.
“You got it,” said Julianne, making no effort to hide the eye-fucking she was giving Atticus.
A moment later, she returned with a small glass of brown liquid.
“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you anytime soon,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.
“Oh, yeah?” asked Tessa, curious as to why he would think that.
“Mhmm,” he said. “Like I said, you’re not my first married woman, let alone the first woman who was, well, taken. Those types tend to have changes of heart about screwing around that are…sudden, to say the least.”
“Well, before you flatter yourself too much, the main reason I called you was because I didn’t really feel safe at the house. What, with my husband and his friends sabotaging the place.”
“That’s definitely something to worry about,” said Atticus. “Why not just head out of town for a few days?”
“Nowhere I could go, really. Parents are dead, no brothers or sisters, the closest couch I can crash on is in Idaho. Besides, I’d rather just get this thing over than flee the state, you know?”
“I can understand that.”
Tessa shook her head.
“Enough of this crap,” she said. “I just told you about my family, what about yours? You got any brothers or sisters? Parents?”
“No parents. But definitely brothers.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Three of them. And we all live together.”
Tessa raised her eyebrows.
“Really?” she asked, her beer near her mouth.
“Yep. All up on Bear Mountain; the other direction from town than your place.”
“Sounds cramped.”
“It’s not bad. We have a lot of family money and my brother Ronald is a whiz with investments, so we’re able to swing a pretty big pad up there. We can go the whole day without bumping into one another.”
“Wow, sounds a lot nicer than my little shack.”
“Oh, give yourself some credit- that’s a nice little cabin you have up there.”
“It’s cramped.”
“It’s…cozy.”
Tessa smiled and took a sip of her beer.
“Why do people always say ‘cozy’ when they want to say ‘unbearably tiny?’”
Atticus matched her smile with one of his own, showing off his perfect teeth.
“Because it sounds nicer.”
Tessa let out a laugh, and looking down, she saw that her and Atticus’s legs had moved closer together, nearly touching.
They passed the evening chatting and drinking, the conversation light and easy. They asked each other questions, getting to know each other better, though with Atticus eliding the small detail about him being a bear shifter, and Tessa avoiding the topic of just what she had found out about Lucas, just what he had gotten himself into. The hours passed, and Tessa found herself enjoying talking with Atticus; she found him charming enough that she was able to put thoughts of just how crazy her life had become out of her mind, at least for the time being. Taking a look at her phone, her eyes widened in surprise when she realized how much time had passed- it was nearly midnight.
“Shit,” she said. “I should be getting back.”
“Same here,” said Atticus, looking at his own phone.
Then his eyebrows lowered in thought for a brief moment as he considered the danger of sending her back home by herself, knowing what he knew about Lucas.
“Let me follow you back to your place,” he said, tossing back the rest of his drink.
“Someone’s direct,” Tessa said, finishing her drink. She wasn’t planning on inviting him home, but as the night went on, it seemed like more and more attractive of a proposition. She figured she could go for round two.
“Not what I meant,” he said. “I really think you should get out of town for a few days, but if you’re insistent on staying at your place, I’d feel a lot better if I went back with you make sure there’s nothing to worry about.”
“That’s sweet, but I think I should be fine,” said Tessa, the alcohol doing its work on her confidence.
“If your husband’s fine with coming to your place in the middle of the night and cutting your power line, then who knows what he’s capable of.”
Tessa thought about it, and letting her rational mind kick in, she realized that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a man make sure she got home safe.
“You know what? Sure, that actually would be nice.”
“Let’s hit it, then,” said Atticus.
The two killed their drinks, pushed out of their chairs and headed out of the bar. Tessa went to her car, and Atticus to his truck. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Atticus moved his truck close behind her.
The drive up to her cabin was uneventful and Tessa realized that she did feel better having Atticus follow her, making sure she was safe.
In his truck, Atticus made sure to not lose Tessa. Just as he told her, he was surprised that she seemed to be so eager to go home alone; he knew Lucas better than Tessa realized, and he knew just want kinds of people Lucas was now associating with. He thought about an occasion several months back, when he and the brothers came across another temporary lab, now long abandoned. As they prepared to clean the place up and dispose of everything as best they could, they noticed that there was a scent in the air that wasn’t the typical chemical smell that they encountered in the meth labs. And when Ian took a look inside of the trailer, they discovered that there was more than just drug material in the trailer- there were the remnants of what appeared to be a deal gone wrong.
They made the final turns up to the house and as soon both pairs of headlights fell upon the house, they knew something was terribly wrong. Tessa parked her car and jumped out, Atticus close behind her.
The house was a wreck. The front door was kicked open, knocked completely off its hinges. Each window appeared to be smashed to shards and the front lawn was carved across with deep tire marks that ripped the grass out by the root, leaving muddy, brown tracks. The water pump wasn’t merely cut this time, it was crumpled in, as if a car had driven into it. The cheerful plants that lined the front of the house were stomped and ripped.
“Wait!” Atticus shouted, as Tessa ran headlong into the home.
Seeing that she wasn’t going to stop, he chased her in, his body sensing danger and preparing to shift. Tessa disappeared into the darkness of the house and Atticus followed her in. But first, he took a look at the electrical main and saw that, like the water tank, it wasn’t simply crushed- it was wrecked beyond repair.
Tessa looked over the inside of the home, tears welling in her eyes as she surveyed the damage. The kitchen was a disaster, all of the plates and glasses smashed across the floor. Throughout the interior the walls were crisscrossed with red slashes of spray paint and smashed in here and there with what appeared to her to be impacts from a baseball bat. The TV was turned over and smashed, and the couch looked to have been cut with knives or razors.
“The house…” said Tessa, looking over the damage.
Atticus, now standing at her side, wrapped his arm around her shoulder. But before she could feel comforted by him, a flash of realization struck Tessa. With quick steps, her phone flashlight in her hand, her dashed to her studio.
To her horror, she saw that every piece of art, including the one that she was currently working on, was slashed in the same way that the furniture had been. But in addition to this, each piece was covered with different colors of spray paint and topped with smears of her own paint, as though whoever did this took special pleasure at ruining her art.
And on top of everything, the wall of the studio was marked with a message written in black paint.
“LEAVE NOW OR ELSE,” it read.
Looking over the wreckage of her studio, tears poured from Tessa’s eyes. Not only was her work destroyed, she knew now that Lucas was intent on making her feel as unsafe as possible, to let her know in no uncertain terms that she was to leave and never come back, that her refusal to see him again meant to him that she was now persona non-grata, that she, in his eyes, was banished from their former home.
Atticus watched her sob into her hands, knowing that Tessa would only feel worse the longer she stayed here.
“Let’s go,” he said, placing his arm on her shoulder once again and leading her out of the place she was now realizing she would never call home again.