Haven from the Storm (Storms of Life #1) Page 2

  Lily looked quickly at me and then back at Grandma Violet. “Um, I...uh, we…what?” she stuttered.

  “Oh, sweetheart, didn’t I tell you Dean would be arriving today?” Lily shook her head. “Well I can’t be expected to remember everything. I am older than dirt.” She waved her hand in the air, effectively dismissing her apparent forgetfulness.

  Lily shot daggers at Grandma Violet with her eyes. “No, Violet, you didn’t. Actually, I can’t remember the last time you even mentioned Dean’s name. I’m pretty sure I would remember it since I’ve spent so much time and energy trying to avoid anything even remotely related to him.” She turned to walk away.

  My heart dropped. My mouth went dry and I didn’t know what to say. “Sunflower?” was the only word I could force out of my mouth.

  She immediately stopped and looked right into my eyes.

  “No. You don’t get to call me that,” was all she said as she pointed her finger at me, then continued to walk away. After about four steps, she stopped and looked at the two packages of candy in her hand. As she passed the clerk she turned and said, “Violet will be paying for these, both of them.” She looked back at us with a grunt and stormed out of the store.

  “Well that went better than I expected,” Grandma Violet laughed.

  I turned to my grandmother with a look of total disbelief. “Excuse me? That went better then you expected? Because I had envisioned something completely different from what just happened here.” I waved my hands in front of me to indicate exactly where Lily had previously been standing.

  “What did you expect, dear? You left her high and dry during the one time in her life she needed you the most and you expected what? To walk into this craphole store and sweep her away like you’re her prince charming?” She rolled her eyes at me.

  I stood there with my mouth hanging open. I knew it would hurt Lily when I left, but I was too focused on my own feelings to truly consider how my leaving would affect her in the future. I should have known how she’d feel since I’d been abandoned from the very start of my life. Had I ruined any chance we might have had?

  “Well, I can tell the prince charming thing was exactly what you thought was going to happen…or you never really thought about it at all,” Grandma Violet said, shaking her head. “Guess you’re in for a bigger surprise then you imagined, dear. That young lady has been in hell these last four years and you, Mr. Dean Haven, played a starring role.”

  I felt a sudden rush of heat.

  I pulled at the collar of my heavy coat and took off my winter hat, allowing the cool air to touch my skin. I could feel the sweat beading on my lip as I reached up to run my hands over my face. I shook my head violently to let my grandmother know my thoughts since words escaped me. She had to be mistaken. I didn’t cause Lily that amount of pain. I would never intentionally hurt her.

  “Dean, I was there. I helped when her battered body was lifted out of that ditch. I have only seen a small portion of what she’s been through and what little I know is enough to change a person completely. So don’t you judge her or what she’s been through until you have cold, hard facts. You hear me, son?”

  “Yeah, I hear you. But I didn’t mean to hurt her. I would never…”

  I shrugged my shoulders in confusion.

  “You, my dearest grandson, have your head buried in the sand up to your rear end and are in for the shock of your life. I know you care for that girl and at one point in her life she cared for you. Now whether you can get back to that place is the question. However, this is not the time nor place to discuss it. C’mon, you can take me home and we’ll get you settled.” She turned to take her items to the clerk.

  “When did you become such a blunt know-it-all?” I asked with as much humor as I could muster.

  Grandma Violet just laughed as she paid the clerk. “You’ll find lots of things have changed around here. Dean, meet Adley. She lives in our house now.” She pointed to the clerk who was beaming at me.

  “Nice to meet you, Dean,” she said, jumping up and down with excitement.

  “Living with us? What happened?” I quietly asked.

  “Forgive Dean, Adley. I did teach him manners, I promise. He just seems to have left them behind at college.” She reached up and smacked me on the side of my head. I creased my brow at her in complete confusion. “I told you, things have changed. Death and destruction have a way of putting an end to many of the pointless pleasantries in life. You better get used to it, dear.”

  Why was Dean back in Kolby? Why would he bother to come back to this God forsaken town? There was nothing here for him; he’d escaped this place and should have never looked back. Why show up now? Why show up when my resolve was set and my sentence was almost complete? I wouldn’t let seeing him put any doubts in my mind. Only five months left until graduation and then I’d be out of this town forever. I was sure I’d be a distance memory to him before that time; maybe I wouldn’t even have to see him again.

  I can’t believe he called me Sunflower! I didn’t want to see him again, especially after those comments I made. Did I really talk about how much time and energy I’d put into forgetting about him? Feeling that way was one thing, but I was completely embarrassed that I’d said it in front of him. But I had gotten M&M’s and a Heath bar. The chocolate would make me feel better, it always did.

  Violet hid his visit from me and I knew that she probably had this entire thing planned for months. No wonder she’d stopped trying to fill me in on Dean’s great college experience, but why didn’t Adley tell me he was coming? She lived with Violet, so she had to know he would be here. Violet owed me more chocolate.

  I had to stop focusing on him. I didn’t have the time or the energy to worry about his visit. I had my own life to deal with and that alone was enough.

  I hid in my secluded bedroom, doing my best to remain alone and far away from my father. After the tornado he had put all his efforts into remaining drunk and our house had never been fully repaired. Luckily volunteers from the Red Cross came and patched up the smaller damage, so it was at least livable. All except for my parent’s bedroom. That room was open to the outside where a small part of the wall was missing. Nothing in that room had been touched since Easton and Mom’s bodies were removed.

  Our little red farm house had never been the same.

  We were able to get items from the Red Cross so my father didn’t need anything that was still in that old room. I didn’t go to that end of the house. I didn’t look at it from the outside. I avoided that room all together. It held too many hurtful memories and too much regret, regret for what I could have done and how things could have been.

  My father stayed in Easton’s old room and I had taken over the den on the other end of the house, as far away from my father and all the old memories as I could get. When you looked at most of the house you could see remnants of the disaster, but my room didn’t look that way. I had completely transformed it so it served as more of a makeshift one room house than simply a bedroom.

  When I turned eighteen a few months ago, I gained complete control of the money left to me by my mom. The first thing I did was secure my room so my father couldn’t come in when he felt like taking out his misery on me. I had spent enough time being the focus of his torment and legally becoming an adult gave me a small amount of power to make some changes. My effort was well worth it. Things had dramatically improved since that time, but that also could have been because I was the only one in this house that had any money now.

  After the tornado, homes and businesses were destroyed. Many residents decided to leave town instead of rebuild their lives here, the lack of jobs being the biggest reason behind that decision. The manufacturing plant in town, that made parts for airplanes, had been the number one employer in Kolby, but it was destroyed by the tornado and the company never reopened. When the tornado destroyed the plant, my father was out of a job indefinitely, but he didn’t seem to care or feel the need to look for a new job. He just used his righ
ts over my inheritance from my mom and her side of the family to continue living his life drunk, spreading his misery around for everyone to enjoy.

  After gaining control of the money I was amazed at how easy it was to make the changes to my room so I could feel safer. The man at the hardware store two towns over helped with my purchases. I told him I was just moving into my own place and wanted to be very, very safe. He agreed I was better safe than sorry, but I thought he was suspicious. Both the entrance into my room from the outside and the door leading from my father’s part of the house were now completely secure. The main locks were electronic keypads, so I wouldn’t have to worry about misplacing a key. The day I installed them was the first day that I had felt safe since Easton was taken from me.

  I had my own bathroom, mini-fridge, and microwave. There was no reason to enter his part of the house, except for showers. I tried my best to time my showers when my father was at the bar or passed out. I sometimes felt like a coward for going to such lengths to avoid him, but all I had to do was look at the scars from the abuse I had suffered at his hand and I easily remembered my reasons.

  Speaking of showers, it was getting late and I was in serious need of one, which meant I had to leave the safety of my room. As I gathered everything I needed, my mind thought back to the one person I’d been trying to avoid-Dean. Why had he come here when Christmas break was almost over? I wondered how long he’d be here. Was he staying with Violet? Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? I mentally kicked myself. I hadn’t thought about him in such a long time, yet my heart ached the same as it always had for him. He looked like the same Dean I knew years ago. He had the same messy black hair and dark caramel colored skin, but his eyes seemed darker and more haunted then I remembered. Any emotions he felt were always swallowed in their black abyss. His dark hair had given him that never ending five o’clock shadow that most men hated, but women everywhere loved. He looked much more like a man than I had expected and more rugged then I remembered, like the last four years had worn him down.

  Before I realized it, I was in the hallway heading across the house to the bathroom to take my shower. I was so distracted with thoughts of Dean that I had forgotten to check for my father before leaving my room. I started to panic and could feel my stomach heave. The cold air pricked at my warm skin as the alarm in my head blared. I was tempted to run back to the safety of my room, but the panic wouldn’t allow me to move. Fortunately, I didn’t hear a single sound coming from the house.

  I pulled a small flashlight from the bag I carried. I placed my hand over the end to partially cover the beam of light so it only illuminated a small path. Silently, I crept down the hall and through the kitchen where I could see the bathroom door. Just when I thought I would make it, I heard someone breathing. I frantically pushed the end of the flashlight against my black sweatshirt to block out the brightness. Where was he? I searched for him while trying not to make a sound. My ears were filled with the hum of blood rushing through my veins. I allowed the air to fill my lungs deeply as I tried to calm myself. Breathing in the coldness helped replace my fear with strength I wasn’t sure would help me.

  I could hear someone slowly breathing, but I couldn’t see anyone in the small sliver of light coming from the kitchen window. If he was close enough for me to hear him breathing, I didn’t have time to escape. I waited, but nothing happened. He didn’t speak or approach me. I slowly moved the flashlight away from my stomach, shining it around the room at knee level. I didn’t want to see his face; I didn’t want his face to haunt my dreams again.

  My vision was clouded by my own breath mixing with the frigid temperatures in this part of the house. I walked slowly toward the bathroom knowing that if I could get there and lock the door, I could wait him out. My eyes were focused on the bathroom door, eager to reach the safety it offered me, when I kicked something on the floor below me. Covering my mouth to smoother the scream that broke loose I backed away, shining the flashlight where I’d been standing; he was lying on the floor. I stumbled further away while trying to smother the light. I listened for sounds of him racing toward me and could already feel the impact of his weight pounding me against the wall...but nothing happened. Closing my eye, I tried to focus on the sounds around me and jumped when I felt something crawl across my bare foot.

  But nothing else came.

  I could still hear him breathing steadily. He must have passed out. Shining the flashlight back to him, I could see him curled in a ball and shaking lightly from the cold. He made no other sounds besides his breathing. At that moment I felt sorry for him; sorry for what he had allowed himself to become. This once regular man had become a useless heap, freezing on the floor of his own home.

  The tears started to roll down my cheeks. I loved him once and I think he loved me. As a child his safe arms were a place I longed to be, but now he was too far removed for me to reach. I was terrified of him and spent every moment trying to protect myself from his torment. I gave him one last glance before I walked back to my room. A shower would have to wait. I didn’t have the energy for the mundane tasks of life anymore; I only wanted to reach the security and warmth of my room.

  I was woken by a loud thud somewhere in the house. I set straight up in bed, my heart pounding, and listened for it again. There was a crash and glass breaking, followed by the sound of scraping against the linoleum floor in the kitchen. I heard my father groan and a string of profanity followed. It was barely six in the morning so I assumed he woke on the floor and decided to finally find his bed.

  I hid under the covers, hoping they would protect me from the dangers outside these four walls. But no matter how hard I tried, problems seemed to follow me wherever I went and right now my biggest problem was that Dean had decided to resurface. When I went to bed I thought my dreams would be haunted with visions of my father like they usually were, but what little sleep I was blessed with was filled with Dean. I could already feel my heart betraying me as my dreams filled with his face, his smell, his laugh and the way his presence brought me a small sense of relief.

  I’d loved him since the day I understood what love truly was. My day began and ended with him. But I had to stop thinking about him before I drove myself crazy. I couldn’t go back to missing him and waiting for him to come back to me; those days were gone. I hit myself on the side of the head several times, trying to shake loose the memories and hoping they would fall out.

  It didn’t work.

  Maybe the only way to fight those feelings was to replace them with the pain and hurt I’d felt after he abandoned me. It was easy to picture that day at the cemetery four years ago, the pain always lingered just below the surface. Dean was standing across the cemetery, far enough away that I might not have known it was him, but every inch of his body was seared into my brain. I watched him intently as he paced from gravestone to gravestone, stopping every few turns to shake his head and wring his hands before pacing again. Searching for something to ease the ache in my heart, I kept my eyes focused on him during the entire graveside service until it was time to lower the caskets into the ground.

  I stood with everyone when the preacher instructed and listened to them sing the words to Amazing Grace, but there was nothing sweet about the sound. Gusts of wind blew dirt from their graves onto my bare legs, dirt that I knew would cover them in a matter of minutes. Succumbing to my grief my knees gave way, pulling me to the ground. Hands grasped my waist, trying to hold me up, and I saw Violet’s resilient face trying to give me strength. The scraping of metal rang in my ears as Easton was slowly lowered below ground. I pulled away from Violet and shoved my way through the people, unable to watch another second of my brother disappearing forever.

  As the crowd of mourners disappeared behind me, Dean looked my direction. I took several tentative steps toward him, fearing my presence wasn’t welcomed. Our eyes locked. We stared at each other for several seconds before he slightly shook his head and turned to walk away. His figure moved further and further into the
distance, finally disappearing down the side of a hill. Without considering the emotional consequences, I ran after him. I ran as fast as my legs would go, but by the time I reached the top of the hill he was gone. I collapsed to the ground and cried. I cried until there were no tears left to shed.

  There was a loud pounding on my door. I heard my father’s muffled voice coming from the other side, but I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. It was late afternoon and I’d spent the entire day wallowing in my Dean-induced misery. It sounded like he was hitting the door with something, but I knew there was no way he could do an ounce of damage to the sturdy doors in this old house. He screamed a few more words that I couldn’t understand and then I heard his footsteps retreating. There was a hard tapping on the window just to the left of my head. I looked out and came face to face with him. I ducked down as fast as I could, praying he somehow didn’t see me.

  “I know you’re in there, Liliana. I just saw you. Don’t play games with me!” he screamed, trying to peer further into the window. “Why don’t you make this easier on yourself and come out here and talk to me? I promise not to touch you,” he said, menacing laughter in his voice.

  I wasn’t sure what he wanted. He hadn’t bothered me in a long time. He’d barely touched me since I turned eighteen, but I knew I shouldn’t trust him. He didn’t deserve anything from me, especially trust, even though things had been fine for over three months. Maybe he wouldn’t do anything.

  “I’ll come out there, but you move over by the fence first!” I moved toward the door and watched as he walked backward until he was at the fence. He kept his eyes on my door the entire time. I opened the door but stayed inside, propping it open with my body. We stared at each other for several minutes, both waiting for the other to give in first.

  “Why don’t you come all the way outside, Liliana? I told you I wouldn’t touch you.”