Juliet wasn’t sure that she would ever find a place where she belonged.
And P.J. was definitely not the kind of man that one would expect to find in a hearth and home, sleepy small town in upstate Maine. Especially with arms covered in violent and creepy tattoos. And that broken winged angel symbol emblazoned on his back? Juliet was especially curious about that. And now, because everything else had gone to hell, she figured she might as well do an image search and satisfy her curiosity once and for all. She grabbed her tablet out of her purse and went to work.
It hadn’t taken long to find it.
Trouble…just what she had expected. The symbol was indeed distinctive and led her to a whole bunch of interesting articles about the Hells Saints Motorcycle Club.
Next, she did a specific search on P.J. McCabe…oh boy.
Yeah, no choir boy there.
The information went a long way in helping Juliet to decide on her next plan of action concerning bad boy McCabe.
The market was too convenient of a shop for Juliet to give up. Running into P.J. there did not have to be a big deal if she didn’t make it one. If he ever asked her about the license again, she would make something up, or simply not answer. She wasn’t going to let him stop her from going about her day to day. That settled that, Juliet thought as she took a long last draw on the cigarette.
Besides, Juliet liked it in Port Harbor, with its tall ponderosa pines and craggy coastline. She had never lived in a place with all four seasons, and Juliet looked forward to having that experience. Autumn was coming on quickly. She couldn’t wait to see the vibrant color of fall leaves as they changed and fell. And close on its heels would be winter, with its crystal icicles and white drifting snow. Juliet looked forward to the solitude that it would bring. Roaring fires in the fireplace, piles of books, warm fluffy socks, and wine. Lots and lots of wine.
So, with ardent purpose, strong resolve, and the grains of medicinal optimism still lingering on her tongue, Juliet turned her car around and headed back home.
When Juliet turned into the driveway to the cabin, she groaned inwardly at the sight of the Dumont family’s SUV.
Layla was sitting on the front porch of the log cabin. When she saw Juliet’s car, Layla stood up and waved like she was trying out for a spot on The Wheel of Fortune.
“Hey there! I just stopped by to bring you the extra set of keys that I promised.” Layla’s hair was windblown, and her smile was wide as she dangled the key ring up in the air.
When Juliet stepped onto the porch, Layla tossed the keys to her.
“Thanks.” Juliet caught them easily in her hand.
“Sure, no problem. I meant to get out here sooner, but between the kids’ afterschool stuff and everything else that I have to do, time just slips away. I’m probably gonna end up being a shitty landlady when it comes to checking up on things.” Layla said with a self -deprecating laugh. “How’s the house holding up? Everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s great. Everything is good. Thanks for stopping by with the keys.” Juliet moved towards the screen door hoping to send Layla along. The stress of the morning had left Juliet with a seething headache. Despite the fact that it was much too soon to even think about going to bed for the night, Juliet wanted to draw the shades, lie down on the bed, and put an end to this day.
Layla gave Juliet a sympathetic look as she headed down the porch steps. “Headache?”
“Raging.” Juliet grimaced.
“Lie down, cool cloth, shades pulled. I get migraines, too.”
“I haven’t had one in a while, but it’s been a stressful day.” Juliet’s own words surprised her. She knew that she had just given Layla an invitation to pry. But really, Layla did not seem the sort who needed an invite. It had been so long since Juliet had had a conversation that was not clinically driven, she thought it might be nice to have someone to talk to. And she found she wanted to talk to Layla. Juliet wanted to unburden herself from some of the horror that still gripped her, she just didn’t quite know how.
“Is everything okay?” Layla frowned and leaned in.
“Yeah, I think it is. I think it will be.”
“But you’re not sure?”
Juliet began to tug at her hair. “It’s …uh…a friend of mine. Sometimes things upset her that’s all.”
Layla reached out and put her hand over Juliet’s. The touch was so light and fleeting it felt like the faint flutter of butterfly wings. It was just enough to interrupt that triggered response and stop Juliet from tugging her hair out.
Layla surprised Juliet with a quick, hard hug.
“It’s okay, honey.” Layla said. “We don’t have to talk about it. I’m a nosy little thing. You’re right, it’s none of my business. Besides, it’s got to hurt to pull on your hair like that.”
Juliet frowned. “It’s a reflexive action. I do it when I get nervous, or agitated. Not that you agitate me!” She was quick to add, because the last thing that Juliet wanted to do was to be rude or hurt Layla’s feelings. “And I didn’t say that you were being nosy!”
“Yea, hon, you did, in your own distressed, silent sort of way.” Layla said gently. “I hope your friend
