Lies Beneath the Surface (Buried Secrets #2) (9 page)

Chapter 8

There’s an old sayin’ that goes: “If you love somethin’ set it free and if it comes back, it’s meant to be.” Well whoever said that is full of shit. I’ve set Carly Jo free time and time again, only for her to be continuously stripped from me. But they also say sometimes you gotta learn the hard way, and that much I can promise you is true.

It’s been over a week since Carly Jo walked out of my house, and I haven’t laid eyes on her since. I’
ve been workin’ the night shift just to avoid her. Pushin’ her as far away from my mind as possible is the only way I’m gonna be able to move on. But every day when I wake up, I’m still lovin’ her. I can’t erase her from my mind, no matter how hard I try. If it weren’t for Heidi Jo, I’d leave Kentucky just to escape seein’ her and the happiness that she lives with. Just keep my focus on my baby girl and movin’ on will be simple.

I haven’t got to spend much time with my princess since this shit storm started brewin’ a few weeks ago, so I decided to have a daddy-daughter evenin’. We’re sittin’ at the Village Diner waitin’ on our food. Heidi Jo is colorin’ in her
Frozen
colorin’ book while she hums that same annoyin’ snowman song to herself and anyone within earshot. I laugh to myself at her spunk. Kid ain’t got a worry in the world and not an ounce of shame. I’m lost in her shrilly voice when she abruptly stops and says, “Look, Daddy. There’s Carly Jo’s friend. The one you don’t like.” I crook my neck to the right to see Luke Ashton standin’ near the counter. When our eyes lock, he nods his head before he starts walkin’ back toward me. “You ain’t gonna get mad again, are ya Daddy?” Heidi Jo asks with a bubble of nervousness in her voice. I smile, noddin’ to assure her.

“Weston. Little Lady.” Luke nods to He
idi Jo and me. Heidi Jo smiles as she looks nervously between me and Luke.

“Ashton.” I tip my chin up.
“Whatever it is, man, can wait. I’m havin’ supper with my daughter; so have some respect and walk away.

“Listen, man. I’m worried about Carly. Ain’t heard from her for days. Y’all still ain’t figured all this out?”

“Your woman now, Luke. Ain’t my problem any more.” I grumble with a cocked eye brow.

He ain’t pickin’ up what I’m layin’ down. Dumbas
s slides in the booth beside Heidi Jo, picks up a crayon and asks if he can color with her. She looks to me for approval, and I nod. She smiles up at Luke and with a wink she says, “Well sure, big guy. But stay on your own side so you don’t mess up my masterpiece.”

Luke colors quietly with Heidi Jo for a minute, ignorin’ that I’m just sittin’ inches within reach of him and his throat. I release a de
ep growl to catch his attention and he looks at me from the corner of his eye as he speaks to Heidi Jo. “You are such a wonderful artist, little lady. I won’t mess up your masterpiece any more than I already have. I’m gonna chat with your daddy for a minute, if that’s okay.” He says, layin’ the crayon down in the small pile. Heidi Jo nods to him, then continues to hum.

“Not your woman anymore, huh
? Weston, I told ya once before to fight for her. Why are ya givin’ up so easily?”

“I ain’t gettin’ into this with ya, Ashton. Let it be. We ain’t buddies, so stop actin’ like it.”

“Ain’t never said we were buddies, Weston. You’re makin’ a big mistake, man; turning your back on her. If you don’t wanna talk about Carly, how ‘bout we talk ‘bout your path of mass destruction? You plannin’ on fixin’ any of that?”

“What the hell you talkin’ ‘bout Luke?” I scoff, this prick’s done lost his damn mind.

“Really? Damn, Weston. Do you remember anything about that night? Ain’t you wondered how your truck got so beat up?” He’s searchin’ my eyes for an answer, but I ain’t got one to give him.

“No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me, huh Luke?” I shrug at him as I shift around in my seat.

“Let’s just say you stopped by for a visit the night Carly told you about me and shit got real. You plannin’ on bein’ man enough to fix any of that shit?”

“Ashton, man I ain’t gotta clue what you’re talkin’ about, but I think it’s best you leave. Like
I said, I’m here to have supper with my daughter, not reminisce with you.” I growl at him as my breathin’ quickens. I ain’t got a damn clue what he’s talkin’ bout. Ain’t had my ass on Miller’s Branch and don’t plan to visit that shit holler anytime soon.

Without another word about it, Luke stands fr
om the table as he tells Heidi Jo goodbye. He nods his head down at me, then takes a step away from the table before turnin’ back and sayin’, “I ain’t your enemy, Weston. She needs you. Better man up and figure this shit out.” Before I can reply Luke makes his way to the counter, leavin’ me stunned by his mass of confusion, yet again. 

Heidi Jo and I finish up supper
, then make a quick and painless trip to the mall. We were gonna see a movie, but decided to hit the
Red Box
instead. Once we’re settled in at home, I make my famous homemade hot chocolate, popcorn and peanut butter kiss cookies while Heidi Jo sets up a movie fort in the livin’ room.

I carry the snacks into the livin’ room, placin’ them
on the coffee table then put
Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2
in the DVD player. Crawlin’ inside of the fort, I prop myself up by my elbow on a throw pillow and start the movie. Heidi Jo is on her belly with her chin propped in her hands, her feet kickin’ back and forth lazily. I pull my phone from my pocket and snap a quick picture without her noticin’. It’s the little moments that mean the most, and I pray to God I can always make every moment in my little girl’s life a happy memory. I scroll through the pictures in my phone while the previews play, and within seconds I wish I hadn’t. I must have groaned because Heidi Jo turns towards me, with her eye brows scrunched deep between her eyes.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?”

“Nothin’ princess, just lookin’ at a picture I had taken of you layin’ there.”

“You miss Carly Jo, don’t ya Daddy?” She asks as she curls her arms around my neck. I hug her tight, pattin’ her little shoulder.

“I’m fine, baby girl. Let’s watch your movie, okay. Your snacks are on the coffee table, don’t let your hot chocolate get cold.” She sits back on her tiny heels, cocks her head to the side and looks deep in my eyes like she’s searchin’ for the pain that lies beneath the surface of my rough exterior.

“You ain’t gotta be tough all the time, ya know. I miss her too. Why don’t you like her friend?” I’m staring at my little seven year old daughter in bewilderment, because she’s just too young to understand the gravity of my love life. To her, it’s simple. If I thi
nk Carly Jo is pretty, we should ride off in the sunset together and live happily ever after. Too bad it ain’t that easy.

“What makes you think I’m actin’ tough, little girl?”

“Cause when Carly Jo was around, you were always happy. She hasn’t been here lately, and you act sad and look mad all the time. But you try to smile, because you’re actin’ tough.”

“You’re pretty
smart, ya know that kid.” I say scrubbin’ my hand against the top of her head, which causes her to roll her eyes at me.

“So, why don’t you like her friend, Daddy?”

“Heidi Jo, are you talkin’ ‘bout Luke?”

“Yeah, the big guy that colored with me today. What did he do wrong? You got mad when you saw Carly Jo talk
in’ to him once before and you’re never nice to him. Is he a bad guy?”

“No, he ain’t a bad guy.”

“But Daddy, if he ain’t a bad guy, why are you mean to him? Just because he’s a boy and he’s Carly Jo’s friend don’t mean she can’t be your girlfriend. I’m friends with all kinds of boys and ain’t none of them my boyfriend. But if any of them were, I’d still be friends with the other boys. It don’t make sense not to, Daddy.”

I crawl out of t
he fort in search for fresh air because her interrogation has me suffocatin’. “Baby girl, this is all adult stuff, you really shouldn’t worry too much about it. Just worry about little girl stuff and dance.” I tell her as I prop open the back door, bracin’ my arms on the top of the door jamb to suck the oxygen into my lungs. My chest is tight and my head pounds as the blood rushes quickly to my brain.

“You okay, Daddy? Your face is red and there is a big ugly vein over your eye that’s shakin’. Do I need to get Mamaw?” She says as she shifts her weight from foot to foot, watchin’ me intently as I try to pull my shit together. I pinch my eyes shut and suck in a deep breat
h, tryin’ to calm my shaken nerves. I pull the door shut and scoop my princess up in my arms, holdin’ her tight. Seven years old, an abundance of joy and innocence yet she sees the big picture, even when I can’t.

I carry
Heidi Jo into the livin’ room and set her on the couch, before grabbin’ her mug of hot chocolate and handin’ it to her. She has her eye brow cocked up in confusion, but she doesn’t say anything about my panic attack. I toss a cookie in my mouth, then talk around it, askin’ if she wants to watch the movie in the fort or on the couch. Of course she picks the fort, what cool kid wouldn’t pick the fort? We crawl in the fort, snacks in hand this time, and flick the movie on. Within minutes she is engrossed in the movie, not givin’ any thought to our conversation.

I lace my fingers behind my head and lay back in our mak
e shift fort; starin’ up at the music note printed sheet deep in thought. Is it all that simple, and I’m just bein’ an ass? I let my thoughts consume me, processin’ every scenario possible that comes to mind. Heidi Jo’s snores startle me, and I realize I’ve spent the entire length of the movie analyzin’ the gravity of the situation. And I’m not an inch closer to figurin’ a damn thing out now than I was an hour ago. I cover Heidi Jo with her blanket, crawlin’ out of the fort to stretch my legs. When I stand to my feet, my head pounds with a fierce intensity. I grab some Motrin from the medicine cabinet then stretch out on the couch to try to ease the migraine that’s invadin’. The more my head pounds, the harder I think about the facts, the madder I get. I’m a dumb prick with tunnel vision, only seein’ what my mind wants me to see. I’ve let my own insecurities and jealousy come between me and the woman I love.

I slowly cross the tracks and make my way up the small holler. With each house I pass my anxiety and anticipation builds, suffo
catin’ me like a boulder’s layin’ on my chest. After two miles of dilapidated, junky trailers and houses, I come upon the small battered house that Luke lives in with his old man. I put my truck in park and as the engine dies I lean back in the seat, takin’ a deep breath to calm my nerves.

Miller’s
Branch is small, narrow holler filled with broken down homes. Literally and figuratively. It’s filled to the brim with low income families battlin’ poverty and the cheese line for their next meal. Luke Ashton was raised here.

Climbin’ out of my truck I make my way up to the porch
where the boards are squeakin’ and givin’ protest to my thick weight. Knocking on the front door, I realize that the screen has literally been ripped from the hinges, with splintered wood stickin’ out of the door jamb. Damn, somebody had a bad, drunken stupor. The front door pulls open slowly, and I look away from the splintered wood to see Luke scowlin’ down at me with a cocked eye brow.

“Come to assess your damage here, Hulk?” He laughs, but I don’t get the joke. He steps aside for me to walk in. Damn, the inside is just as bad as the outside. Patched up holes scatter paint chipped
walls. The windows are dark and mildew stained, while the furniture is as old as I am, worn and weathered. I take a seat on the edge of the couch, bracin’ my elbows on my knees as I wait for Luke to sit down.

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