Coming Home (Detective Dahlia Book 1) Read online

  "Then, one day at Quality Fresh, I bumped into a woman who then dropped a carton of eggs. She started cursing under her breath despite my immediate apologies. We both bent down at the exact time to pick up the sloppy mess, and as we did, we smacked heads. Deep embarrassment flooded my body, but once we glanced up into each other's eyes, the entire world melted away. And, that was it. The rest was history. When I was so hell-bent on avoiding love, it found me regardless. Now, I am alone again. I don't know what I'm going to do without Carin, but knowing I met her in the first place will have to suffice as I begin the next chapter of my life without her.”

  Tears gushed from the corners of my eyes, and I hiccuped loud enough for the entire church to hear. Devastation hung in the air and clouded over the happy memories shared previously.

  The priest recited a few more prayers, and the crowd dispersed.

  "See you at the cemetery?" I asked my dad since we’d driven separately.

  "I'll be there," he replied solemnly.

  The cemetery, only a mile or two away from the church, filled up as people from the service came to witness Carin lowered into her final resting place. I held my father's hand as he tossed a single rose onto his wife's casket. The last flower he'd ever give to her would now rot in the ground.

  My father declined to host a meal after the service, even though Carin's family begged him to do so. I didn't blame him. Instead, he wanted to go home and sleep. Probably drink the rest of the day away. I assumed so because it was exactly what I wanted to do.

  Seven

  I left my car at the church and strolled down Main Street. Hip-hop music traveled toward me as did the murmurs of people talking and laughing with each other. Besides a few restaurants and shops, there were a couple of bars on Main Street too. One of them overlooked the river, but it didn't attract the most upstanding citizens, so I passed it.

  My friends and I had always tried to sneak into the various bars when we were underage. Sometimes we managed to get in, and others, the bouncers were much stricter.

  I stepped through the outdoor patio door after flashing my ID to the burly bouncer sitting atop a tall wooden stool. I might have recognized him, but his name didn't come to mind. He looked at me with curious eyes when he checked my license. Maybe he knew me too.

  I approached the bar and couldn't hear myself think. Jay-Z blasted from the speakers as patrons stood around high-top tables, smoking cigarettes and clinking glasses together. Just with a glance, I recognized several people I went to school with and a handful of people older than me.

  As expected, some of my former classmates waved emphatically, and others pretended as though they hadn't seen me at all. Some smiled at me, and others avoided my gaze like the plague. I preferred the latter, to be honest. It seemed like a high school reunion.

  I wasn't up for small talk, so I sat down at one of the last chairs at the bar and raised my finger to signal the bartender. My buzz from the funeral threatened to wear off if I didn't consume more and right away.

  "What can I get for you?" a man with black hair and a finely trimmed beard asked.

  "I'll have a glass of your house white. Actually, on second thought, make it a Long Island iced tea.”

  Go big or go home.

  "Coming right up.” He took my credit card to start a tab. I only planned on having one drink, but something inside me told me to keep it open, just in case.

  There was a decent crowd around me, and electricity surged through the air. The sun sparkled through at just the right angle to illuminate all those already on the dance floor. For the life of me, I didn't understand why the place was so rockin' in the early afternoon. Then, to answer my question, a parade of girls in pink boas and tiaras strutted through the doors. The ringleader of the motley crew had "Bachelorette" scribbled across her sash in elegant script. The others had "Squad" on their ribbons.

  I almost threw up in my mouth until I reminded myself to stay calm and that not everyone is a miserable hermit crab. The bartender brought back my order faster than I expected, and I raised my glass to him before taking a deep gulp of the cocktail.

  "Wow!" I said to no one in particular as goosebumps sprang up across my arms.

  "Wow is right," a voice whispered in my ear behind me.

  I whipped around to find none other than my high school boyfriend, Noah. My stomach plummeted as if I'd jumped off the Empire State Building, and I almost let my drink slip out of my hands. I choked on the air in my lungs, in shock at the man before me.

  "Noah," I said flatly, trying to regain my composure.

  "What are you doing back in Keygate? Didn’t expect to see you here.” His perfectly straight teeth glittered under the lights above us.

  "My stepmother passed away. I'm here for her funeral." My heart pounded in my chest.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Beads of sweat formed at the nape of my neck too. It was tenth grade all over again.

  His chestnut eyes expanded, and his hand brushed against my forearm. "I'm so sorry, Elle. Are you okay?”

  I couldn't tell if he was genuinely asking me or just making conversation. We hadn't seen each other in many years, and we didn't part on good terms.

  "I'm fine. Thank you for asking.”

  "Can I get you another?" he asked, eyeing my half-full Long Island.

  Did I want to go here? Did I want to have a drink with my ex-boyfriend? The correct question here was should I? Deep down, my gut begged me to say yes, but my brain tried to squash that desire.

  "I'll take a shot of Jack," I said.

  Often, no matter what your mind says, your heart will always win out.

  Countless shots later, Noah had his arm around me, and I didn't stop him. The guilt of having another man's arm around me while I grieved the death of my fiancé lingered just below the surface. I pushed it down further. The alcohol helped silence its nagging call.

  I was a year younger than Noah. I first noticed him during my freshman year of high school. During one break between classes, I saw a cute boy striding down the hall with his band t-shirt, black plastic eyeglasses, and a piercing through his lip. It may have been that exact moment I fell in love with him, which sounds silly because I was only fourteen years old, but it's true.

  The next year, my sophomore and his junior, I befriended one of his friends who shared a study hall with me. That friend, Peter Williams, invited me to sit with him and his buddies at lunch one day. Peter knew I wasn't very popular. It's hard to separate yourself in a school full of girls with perfect hair, C cups, and curves to die for. Me, on the other hand, I still had a retainer and the body of a twelve-year-old boy.

  When I sat down for lunch, the boy I observed so many months prior was sitting there too. My heart stopped right then. He introduced himself, and it was all downhill from there. I ate with the guys every day at lunch for the rest of the year.

  Soon, Noah and I were chatting on the computer after school each and every afternoon. With hormones zipping through my body and my adolescent mind in deep, bone-shattering love, I couldn't stand to be away from him. He was one of the most popular guys in school, despite his punk rock appearance.

  However, the more we hung out, the more he tried to impress me, although he didn't need to. He took out his lip piercing, bought contacts and started wearing the trendy polos everyone loved during that time. Somehow, he became more handsome than the day I first set eyes on him.

  I'd never experienced such an attraction or connection to one person. It was as though our souls were stitched together, and with any amount of distance between us, it physically pained us. When I was with him, I felt capable of being loved, like I wouldn't always be the awkward girl people whispered about behind my back. I could still remember the first time we kissed and the first time he said I love you like it was yesterday. I supposed we could never forget our first loves. Those emotions etched themselves into our memories, never to be replaced or erased.

  It wasn't all rainbows and butterflies. Noah didn't sim
ply make me fall in love with his pure charm. Part of him manipulated me too. He would often tell me how lucky I was to be with someone like him. He'd make a point to tell me about all the girls who talked to him and wanted to date him. As if I didn't already accept I had something to lose by simply loving him, he created a sense of self-doubt within me that I wasn't good enough for him. This was just the way he was a decade or so ago. I could only imagine how his manipulation skills had advanced since then.

  I breathed in Noah's familiar scent; it was the same as back in high school. A fresh laundry aroma radiated off him. His hairline had receded some, and he’d gained weight, but he still looked as handsome as I remembered.

  Hell, Noah won "Best-Looking" his senior year, my junior year of high school. While little old me hid in the shadows of our long, twisted hallways, barely anyone noticed me, except for him. I never understood what he saw in me back then. He could have had almost any girl he wanted, and yet, he chose me. Of course, he never let me forget it, either.

  So many times I feared he'd leave me for another, more popular girl, and he didn't shy away from flirting with them in front of me. To show me he could if he wanted to.

  "So, what are you doing for a living?" he slurred.

  "I'm on a sabbatical of sorts," I said.

  "That's cool," Noah said nonchalantly.

  "You?" I twirled the ends of my hair, my eyes glassy.

  Before Noah could respond, another familiar face approached us. "Noah? Elle? What is this? Are we back in high school again?”

  Peter stood there with a sweeping smile across his face. He punched Noah in the arm and reached in to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Peter's wedding band sparkled under the lights.

  "We are just catching up. I'm only in town for a few days," I said, swaying slightly on my chair. Noah put a firm hand on my thigh to steady me.

  "Well, you two have fun, but not too much fun!" Peter tipped his head back and cackled.

  "So, Peter's still weird, huh?" I asked after he'd walked away.

  "Yeah, but he's filthy fucking rich," Noah said.

  I stared after Peter and absorbed the sight of him: still tall and lanky with luscious blond curls. "Rich, huh?”

  "He's one of the richest bastards in Keygate," Noah said.

  "You guys still best friends?”

  "Yeah, we're tight."

  “And, he found someone to marry him?”

  “Yeah, some broad from down south. They met while he was on vacation with his first wife.”

  My jaw nearly dropped. “First wife?”

  “He’s on number two, but I wouldn’t doubt it if he fucks this one up too. Always going to a strip club in town or long weekends away.”

  I couldn't help but shake my head. We finished the last of our drinks, and Noah stared at me expectantly.

  "You look really pretty," he said as he reached out to caress my cheek with the back of his hand.

  I flinched at his touch, but then closed my eyes. The liquor sloshing in my stomach told me to embrace the moment, and I did so without complaint. I opened my eyes, and Noah's gaze burned into my soul. My pulse quickened and rattled me to my bones.

  "Now what?" I asked, my voice shaking.

  "Do you want to go somewhere?”

  I thought about it for a few moments. We were both intoxicated, but I wanted to be alone with him. He still held part of my heart captive after all this time. I hated myself for it. I'd let the guy mistreat me for years throughout our relationship. I lowered my standards and neglected my self-worth to be with the boy I loved. Unfortunately for me, he also adored attention and would do anything to get it.

  I hated him, but even the deepest of anger toward someone wasn't always strong enough to ward off affection for them too. You could despise a person but want nothing more than to be in their arms. Love was funny that way. Part of me understood I was making a mistake, but I didn't care. When you were down as far as you could go and hit rock bottom, nothing mattered.

  "Sure, let's go," I said.

  Visions of Zac danced in my mind. I pushed the memory of him to the side. Noah tipped the bartender, and we walked out hand in hand.

  Eight

  "Where do you want to go?" I asked curiously.

  "I have an idea," Noah said as we reached his car.

  A shiny Hyundai had replaced the beater I remembered. "Nice wheels.”

  "Yeah. It's alright." Noah opened the door for me, which was another significant change from high school.

  I sat down, heard the click of my seat belt snap securely in place, and for a moment, the car spun before my eyes. I shouldn't have had so much to drink. If I'd kept my original plan and only had one, I wouldn't be in this situation.

  "Well?" I asked.

  He started the car, and before pulling out of the parking lot, he scanned the road for police.

  "Are you sure you're okay to drive?” I could have easily driven if I needed to. At this point in time, buzzed driving was the norm for me.

  He guffawed. "Of course.”

  As a former officer who routinely pulled drunk drivers over, I knew he wasn't able to drive safely. And yet, I let him do it anyway.

  He cruised to lower town, toward the river. The moon reflected upon the water like floating diamonds being carried with the current. I pressed the button to bring my passenger window down and let the breeze make a mess of my hair. The liquor continued to fuel the electricity in my body. I let out an unexpected holler into the night.

  Noah looked over with an amused grin.

  Before I realized what was happening, he parked the car and turned off the ignition. I looked around, and the familiar pang of the place radiated throughout my body.

  "Here?" I whispered.

  "I figured it'd be fun for old time's sake," he said.

  Although the car was off, the radio stayed on. Noah plugged his iPhone into the car and turned on some music. In the next instant, I realized what he'd put on: a mix I'd made him many years ago. However, instead of a CD, it was playing through his phone.

  "You still listen to this?" I gasped incredulously. "This can't be real life.”

  "Just when I feel nostalgic," he slurred and brushed over my upper thigh with his hand.

  Butterflies invaded my stomach in a massively wild herd. Were we back in high school, here for the very first time? If I closed my eyes and concentrated, could I turn back time? It sure as hell felt like I could.

  We parked under the bridge by the river, well hidden from the main road and the cars overhead. This was our spot. I wondered if he’d ever taken other girls here over the years, but I shook away the thought.

  The Used screeched through the car's speakers, and I tapped my feet accordingly, lip-syncing with an imaginary microphone.

  "Do you remember our first time here?”

  "I would never be able to forget it if I tried." I smiled. "I was so nervous!" The memory swirled around my mind and sped up my heartbeat.

  "No, you weren't! You made the first move.”

  "No. I don't think so." I scrunched my face as I recalled that night.

  "Yeeeesss," he drew out. "We were parked right here, music on, just like it is now. You put your hand on my leg.”

  I laughed out loud. "I put my hand on your leg because you had pizza sauce on your shorts! I was trying to clean them for you.”

  "If that's the card you wanna play, Elle." Noah winked.

  "I mean, I think this is what I did. Right?" I massaged him, moving up further.

  "Yeah. It was something like that." Noah closed his eyes and licked his lips.

  I unbuckled my seatbelt, and without realizing what my body had planned, I ended up straddling Noah in the driver's seat. He was hard against me, and it was as if no time had passed at all. I started kissing his neck, and while he moaned my name, empowerment surged through my veins. No longer was I the shy girl from school who was terrified of boys; I was older, more mature, and fierce as fuck.

  Noah fumbled as he tried t
o unlatch my bra clasp with difficulty. I couldn't help but laugh because, in school, he had no problem taking off my clothes. It seemed as if our roles were reversed, and I liked it. Noah couldn't manage to unhook my bra, so he hiked it up. Breathlessly, he cupped my breasts with his hands, massaging them until my nipples stiffened. He nibbled on the nape of my neck, igniting a fire that burned hot deep in my belly. I pushed away all thoughts of Zac—I couldn't think of him now. All I cared about was feeling Noah inside of me. It would be easy, familiar.

  He removed his hands from my breasts while our tongues intertwined feverously. I grinded my hips against him, waiting and ready for the real thing. I wanted him so badly I couldn't stand it. My heart pounded through my chest. Noah's fingers traveled up my dress until he felt my sex.

  "You're so wet," he whispered in my ear.

  "I want you," I breathed.

  "I can't believe this is happening," he said. "I've dreamt about being with you again for so long.

  Just as I unzipped his pants, his cell rang and echoed loudly inside the car.

  "Who is calling you this late?" I asked before my tongue massaged his ear.

  Noah took one look at the caller ID. "Oh fuck." He pushed me off him, grabbed his phone, and darted outside to answer. I crumpled awkwardly into the passenger seat and banged my elbow against the gearshift in the process.

  Angry, my ego bruised, I jumped out of the car. The previous song ended, and a track from Say Anything turned on. The nostalgia hit me like a sack of bricks.

  "I'm coming home soon, babe," I heard him say.

  Babe?

  "Okay. I'll stop and pick up some diapers and formula, too. I love you.”

  My heart sank while bile rose in my throat. "Who was that?" I spat.

  "I have to go home," he said as he pulled his pants up.