Where We Began (Stone Lake 2.5)

“My grandmother always taught me that when a woman says she’s fine, she’s anything but.”

“Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman.”

“Not so much. If she was, she wouldn’t have married my grandfather.”

“Maybe she loved—”

“Five times.”

“Your grandmother married your grandfather five times?”

“Five,” he confirms, holding his hand up and waving his fingers.

“Maybe your grandmother needed medication?” I suggest helpfully, unable to fathom the idea of marrying the same man that many times.

“That and my grandfather needed to learn to keep it in his pants,” he says and just like that, the sick feeling comes back in my stomach.

“Yeah, a lot of people need to learn that lesson,” I mutter, feeling the sting of tears, but not letting them go.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Junie. I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t do anything,” I tell him, waving off his concern.

“The last thing you needed was some dick bringing up…”

“Dick?” I laugh, trying to make my own joke as Sheriff Kingston continues to put his foot in his mouth. “I’m okay,” I insist.

“You’ve been through hell,” he counters and yeah, he’s right about that. He’s also a little wrong.

“But, I survived,” I remind him.

“Junie—”

“Honestly, Sheriff. It was great you coming to check on me, but I’m fine. I’ve been through much worse than this.”

And I had. I most definitely had.

“Then you’ve lived a hell of a life, Junie.”

“I can’t deny that,” I admit and maybe I would have said more but my brother, Luna and Joshua pick that moment to come in.

“Aunt Junie!” Joshua cries making a beeline to me. I barely get my arms open before he hurls his little body into them, and I hug him tightly. I breathe in the goodness that is my nephew, and I do that with my eyes closed, praying some of his goodness rubs off on me, because clearly karma is enjoying making me its bitch.

“Gentle, Josh,” Gavin admonishes, but I just squeeze Joshua tighter, refusing to let him go.

“Kingston, what are you doing here?”

I look up when I hear the roughness in my brother’s voice. There’s a new tension in the room. One I don’t fully understand, and I’ve got a feeling maybe I don’t want to.

“Just checking on Junie. I needed to make sure she was okay after all of the shit that went down,” the sheriff responds, and he’s like a different man now too. Maybe this is Ben Kingston being on duty? I don’t know him well enough to understand him, and it’s not my place to.

“I can take care of my sister,” Gavin growls.

“Didn’t say you couldn’t,” the sheriff replies to this crazy conversation. “Luna, glad to see you’re doing okay.” He sounds gruff and uncomfortable.

“You too, Ben,” she says softly.

“Junie, you take care. I’ll check on you again,” he promises and then without another word he just leaves.

I just stare at the closed door, but when Joshua pulls away and starts talking animatedly and, thankfully, I happily give him my undivided attention. After everything he’s been through he more than deserves that.

I paste on a smile and try to focus on the conversation flying around me. Sheriff Kingston is not my concern and he never will be…

Junie

One Week Later

“I hear you’re ready to blow this joint.”

My eyes jerk up at the door and the Sheriff is standing there. It’s not an unusual occurrence. The Sheriff has visited every day to check on me. It annoys my brother, Gavin, to no end. I’m not sure why. I asked him if he was a bad guy and he grudgingly admitted he wasn’t. I figure he’s just trying to do his job and feels guilty I was abducted and hurt in his town. Maybe that’s silly. I’ve only had a few run-ins with police and they’ve been helpful, but they can’t stop men who are crazier than hell. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way—and too many damn times.

I squash those thoughts down, locking them away so that I don’t think about them. I’m good at compartmentalizing; I could write a book on it. Then, I muster up a smile for my uninvited guest.

“That’s what they tell me. I guess you’ll be glad,” I respond. Truth be known, I’m nervous about returning home to an empty house. I wonder if my doctor realized that because I’m pretty sure he pulled strings to keep me here for so long.

“Definitely glad you won’t have to be in the hospital anymore, Junie.”

“I meant so you can quit visiting. You don’t have to feel guilty about this, Sheriff. It’s not your fault. You can’t be responsible for a madman.”

“That madman was hiding in my county. I can feel guilty about that, Junie.”

I shrug. When a man makes up his mind, you’re not going to change it. That’s another little handy lesson I’ve learned and relearned.

“Whatever gets you off, Sheriff. Not my problem I guess. I can assure you that I don’t blame you, just in case these visits are some kind of penance you are making.”