Silver Lake Secrets. Alison Stone
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so hard to move beyond the mistakes of my past. And please, please bring Missy home.
“Hey, wait up,” Brett hollered.
Nicole quickened her pace. She was done talking. The icy wind sucked the breath out of her.
Brett caught up with her. “Hold up.”
She suspected most people froze at his commanding tone, but she wasn’t most people. She bit back a snarky comment and forced a smile. A polite smile. The one reserved for limited interactions with the stone-throwing residents of Silver Lake, the smile that said, “I’ll be pleasant, but I’ll never like you.”
Brett guided her closer to the building, out of the harsh winds. He surveyed the street, as if he cared what other people overheard.
Or saw.
Nicole’s bubbling anger simmered with guilt over the choices she had made as a young woman. It didn’t seem to matter how much she had changed, people still disliked her.
“I have to get to work.” Nicole’s cool tone was no match for the icy blast of air. “I can’t lose this job.”
“Who’s Ethan’s father?” Brett tilted his head, his eyes taking on a warmth that made her want to confess everything. But she couldn’t. In a small town, a bad reputation clung to a person forever, like a bad hairstyle in the senior yearbook. Her son’s grandparents—Brett’s parents—might use their influence to gain access to their grandchild.
“None of your business.” Nicole couldn’t take that chance. She didn’t want the Eggerts to fill her son’s head with negative images of his mother...or worse. “And I can promise you, his father is not harassing me. So, move on with your investigation. Find Missy. Find who ran her off the road.”
“Ethan was my brother’s middle name.” Brett searched her eyes with his gaze.
Nicole stepped back and bumped her heel against the wall. “Ethan’s a popular name.”
An ache throbbed behind her temples. What if the Eggerts wanted to take Ethan from her? Mr. Eggert was an influential lawyer. He’d use terms like “unfit mother,” “unsuitable home environment,” and “in the best interest of the child” to gain custody of her son.
Gigi had tried to calm her worries. Courts always favored mothers.
Always?
The final image of her own mother pulling away from Gigi’s house had played over and over in her mind like the black moment in a Lifetime movie. Her mother had whispered in her ten-year-old daughter’s ear that she’d be back for her. That she was the most important thing in her life. That the situation was only temporary.
Drugs proved too powerful. Nicole never saw her mother again.
Nicole had stumbled into drugs just like her mother. But Nicole cleaned up her act for her son because he was the most important thing in Nicole’s life.
She blinked a few times, flipped her scarf over her shoulder and hiked up her chin. “I have a job and I’m running late.”
Nicole spun on her heel and strode toward the funeral home. Her worries pelted her like the snowflakes blowing sideways. Head bowed, she picked up her pace, focusing all her energy on envisioning Missy running the vacuum in the front foyer when Nicole returned.
Please let Missy be okay.
“Nicole!” Brett’s voice grew closer and held a hint of urgency that made her pulse spike. But she wasn’t going to stop.
She broke into a jog. Apprehension and shame pressed heavy on her lungs. Why wouldn’t this man leave her alone? She skirted around an elderly lady pushing a walker through the snowy sludge. She had to remain confident. Missy was going to be okay. God was a merciful God.
Then why can’t you forgive yourself for Max’s death?
Nicole slowed at the intersection and watched the blinking man count down five seconds. She could make it. She had to if she wanted to avoid Brett. She pulled her collar up and darted across the street. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a delivery truck bearing down on her. Tingles swept up her arms and her vision zeroed in on the safety of the sidewalk a few feet away. Her boot hit the curb. At the same time, slush sprayed the backs of her legs.
Just great. Annoyance tinged with relief made pools of sweat gather under her coat.
Nicole spun around to glare at the offending truck and she noticed Brett running toward her, the concern on his face making icy shards shoot through her veins. He wove around a compact car, slamming his hands on its hood just as it screeched to a halt, thankfully finding purchase on the plowed pavement. “What are you doing?” Nicole’s heart jackhammered. She lifted shaky palms in a show of surrender. Brett had almost gotten run over. “Fine, I stopped. I’m not going anywhere. What do you want?”
Brett’s firm gaze was fixed on something over her head. Way over her head. She was lifting her eyes to follow his gaze when Brett crashed into her, pushing her out of the way. He landed on top of her with an oomph on the hard, cold concrete. A chunk of ice smashed onto the sidewalk a foot from their tangled bodies.
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