A second later, the screen flashed to another man.
Royce Reed.
Emily’s fiancé.
Shock left me on a lurching breath.
I stumbled forward, completely trapped by the story.
Of course, I’d heard some of the rumors that had spread faster than the plague around town, people whispering about the trouble the members of Carolina George were mixed up in, but I’d ignored it the best that I could.
Now it felt impossible.
“Royce Reed, the stepson and second-in-line to Karl Fitzgerald, is said to be cooperating with the prosecution in the matter. Four weeks after Reed took the top spot at Mylton Records after Karl Fitzgerald’s arrest, the company was acquired by Stone Industries, a record label based out of Savannah, Georgia. It’s expected members of the bands closest to Fitzgerald will be subpoenaed to testify, including Emily Ramsey of Carolina George who has made allegations against Cory Douglas and Karl Fitzgerald. Adding to the speculation, it is reported Emily Ramsey is now involved with Royce Reed.”
It shifted to a reporter shouting at Royce as he walked down the street with his hand wrapped in Emily’s.
“Royce, how do you feel about the accusations brought against your stepfather?”
He didn’t stop walking, just said over his shoulder, “I wish nothing more than to see justice served, and I’ll do everything I can to see that it is.”
The clip ended and the reporter was back on the screen with a picture of another man on the screen beside her. “Cory Douglas, the lead singer of the well-known rock band, A Riot of Roses, was also arrested on charges of sexual assault. Studio 4 News has learned Royce Reed used to front A Riot of Roses before a two-year jail sentence for a conviction on an assault of none other than Cory Douglas. It was announced a week ago Royce Reed has reclaimed the spot as the band’s lead and is set to hit the studio with A Riot of Roses in the coming months.” Sickness slipped across my flesh.
I’d met that man before.
Cory Douglas.
Was it sad to admit this report didn’t surprise me?
The way instinct had kicked in the second he’d come into the room?
Megawatt smile and depravity on his face?
One look, and my stomach had curled with an internal warning that had blared for me to stay far away with the volume set to ten.
The lens panned to a second reporter in the main office. He whistled a disbelieving sound as he shuffled the papers on the counter in front of him. “It will be interesting to see how this plays out.”
The female reporter nodded. “It seems there are many layers to this complex case. I’ll be following the trial closely and will give updates as new details come to light.”
“We’ll be waiting. Thank you, Nancy.”
The screen shifted to focus on the main reporter again.
While I just stood there.
Dumbfounded.
Struck.
Mind racin’ to catch up. To piece together the facts when it was clear I was missin’ so many of them.
A horrible feeling sank to the pit of my stomach.
Positive that Emily was involved, in deep, but not sure how far it went.
I felt my daddy’s gaze on my face. “Oh, bella.”
I forced a wobbly smile and a feeble shrug that said more than it should. “I guess I’m a little out of touch.”
“For your own well-being,” he argued for me.
“She was my best friend. Like a sister to me.”
He nodded slow. “Just…be careful, mi amor. Un corazón roto no puede sanar cuando está siendo aplastado.”
A broken heart cannot heal when it’s being crushed.
“Don’t worry, Daddy. It’s already scarred over. Hard as a rock.”
Sympathy flushed his face, and I dipped through the entryway to the kitchen before I had to face any more questions. Before I had to face what I was feelin’.
This urge to go to Emily and beg her to let me hold some of what she was bearing.
Worse was the urge to go to Richard and ask him for details.
For a way into their lives, when the best thing I could do was stay on the outside.
Heck, even sneaking along the perimeter felt dangerous.
Deciding I would only talk to Emily about it if she chose to confide in me, I shoved the tumult of worry off and focused on what I needed to accomplish today. I filled up a tumbler full of coffee and doused it with cream before I headed out the back door.
The air had warmed a fraction, and I lifted my face to the blue sky that was scattered with wisps of clouds. And I tried not to hear the music written there. Hidden with the stars behind the light.
Where the darkness could so easily drag me back into his arms.
Richard.
My spirit whispered his name.
My mind was quick to put a lid on it.
That was just reckless thinkin’. Especially with him near. It was a whole ton easier to long for him in the nights when he was so far out of reach. What wasn’t so easy was resisting him when he was beggin’ me for face-time.
No chance was I going there. No chance was I giving in.
That connection that came alive when he was around didn’t mean a thing.
It was just lashes crying out from an old broken dream.
I headed down the path toward the acres and acres of flowers. There was basically every breed that would grow on this land and some we tried to bribe with extra love.
Saul saw me coming, already hard at work, probably there since before dawn.
He took off his hat. “Mornin’, Violet.”
“Good mornin’. How are you today?” I called as I approached.
“Better than ever.”
His attitude managed to pull a slight smile out of me.
“Good. Then I am, too.”
* * *
Two hours later, I was in the shed arranging the buckets for delivery to the florists we supplied. I had my own stand at a couple farmer’s markets as well, but the florists were our bread and butter.
What had kept our flower farm afloat and flourishing through
