"Your heart's pure, you did the right to return."
Angeline wrapped an affectionate arm around Simon, held him there in her arms reassuringly before she released him, and offered him a wide smile before she moved to take the snickerdoodles from the oven.
Simon was convinced he hid the right thing by returning to Willow Creek about four months ago. His life, trauma, and anxiety became an unending swirl. His therapist during one of those sessions nonchalantly suggested he move back here.
Fear was better conquered when faced, exactly what Simon was doing.
He stacked the dishwasher and regarded the petite blonde girl by the oven. She was all he lived for.
"They all want to know about what happened that night." He murmured, unsure if she heard him.
She did because she whirled around, placed the oven sheet on the countertop, and let out a weary sigh.
"They have the right to know. The only way they can help you and the rest out there."
"There's none," Simon sounded convincing. "I'm his only victim unlucky to have survived."
"Don't say that," she sighed, "You're the luckiest guy I ever know."
He'd been with Angeline for about eleven months now and never for once did put out the old wound. It hurt each time he thought of just how things had changed, he was just a youngster with dreams. He was just a curious soul.
She caught the dazed expression— his troubled soul and came over to give him yet another hug.
"Let me help you unpack this baggage."
They remained still in the kitchen as one, holding each other's gaze, seeking and offering help.
The phone on the island rang, Angeline broke from him to the countertop. Just then, the doorbell rang.
"It's the plumber." She announced, picking the phone to her ear.
It wasn't until then did he recall a tap in the bathroom had been broken. He'd fallen asleep in the warm tub, haunted by those ugly dreams he'd pulled out of the tub careless enough to cause an accident.
"Put these away." She mouthed, gesticulating to the cookies on the countertop.
He remained right where he stood by the dishwasher watching her move towards the front door. The thoughts that constantly plagued his being found him.
Now alone in the kitchen, thoughts of the young and vibrant Journalist crossed his mind. He had a promising career before him. Why then did he choose to get saddled with a controversial case like this? If only he was let in on how this could change his life.
He was out there. The man clad in the leather cloak was still out there preying on his victims. How could he warn them of this case? How could he tell the sheriff there was no hope for Willow Creek?
"He's asking to confirm the taps in the rest of the rooms and the kitchen." Angeline popped her pecan head by the doorway.
"Why the hell does he want to? They're not broken." He muttered absently.
Angelina shrugged but led the young lad in gray sweatpants and a white crew-neck shirt.
Simon stood a good seven feet tall which made him very intimidating to the dude who just walked in with his toolbox.
"Don't you think you should fix the affected area first?" Simon tried to hide the annoyance from his tone.
"This is Dane," Angeline broke the tension in the air, saving Dane from the embarrassment. "I'll show you to the broken tap."
Angeline led the plumber out of the kitchen, he heard their heavy footsteps go off the stairs leaving him his space.
First, he put away the cookies, and settled on a high stool with his phone out of his pocket, the need to know more about this young journalist grew consuming. If he ever was going to trust him with information as sensitive as this, he needed to at least know a bit about him.
It wasn't hard to snoop on people lately.
There wasn't much about the dark-haired journalist on his website. His published works and work-related posts were on there. He wanted something concrete, a more personal level.
Instagram stood out to be just the right place to be. It didn't disappoint.
Simon sat with his eyes glued to his for another fifteen minutes and when he looked up from the photo of the cute little girl in a floral swimwear, a fish bowl in hand, and a toothless grin tugging her cheeks, he knew there was more to Julian than his inquisitive gazes.
Even though he still threaded eggshells when it came to trust he had to be at peace with himself first, to trust himself he was doing the right thing seeking help and justice before he could think of trusting anyone else.
The crashing sound upstairs instantly alerted him. His spine straightened with frantically thrashing heart, he listened. Waited. He was here.
"It's just the plumber guy," Angeline's chuckles comforted him in ways she'd never known.
She slipped into the kitchen straight to the refrigerator, poured two glasses of juice, and placed them before him.
"I'll go check on him."
He didn't know why but he had a gut feeling about this plumber.
"Knock if off,, he's just a harmless plumber," she huffed, almost fed up with his trust issues, "We were to talk!"
He heard her call out but he was already out of the kitchen area heading up the stairs.
Simon stopped by his bedroom closed door, turned the knob, and got in to see everything in place, his gaze surveyed the room. Satisfactory. He ventured closer to the closed bathroom door.
With wary steps and careful hands, he pushed the door open only to be welcomed by the sight of Dane going about his job.
Dane's head snapped his way, a warm smile broadened his face before his eyes fell back on the task at hand.
"I thought I heard something fall." He knew he sounded silly but he had the right to know. For his sanity.
Dane's furrowed brows regarded him. "Something fell?"
There was no way that was in his head. No, he wasn't losing his mind. He nodded and turned back out of the bathroom back to the kitchen.
"By any chance did you hear..."
"Nothing crashed Simon. You put this attitude up whenever there's a third party around here." Her voice rose.
Could anyone blame him? People just weren't to be trusted. He nodded, going back to the island.
"I'm so sorry," she cooed, "I know just how hard this must be for you."
No, she didn't. If she had the slightest idea of how much this freak had changed his life. Moments like this made him wish he'd killed him just like he did everyone else. This life was torture. To him, waking up daily, trying to fit in with everyone else remained a pain for him.
Pretending to be normal when he was somewhere in the hollow pit of his soul he knew he was the broken piece amongst everyone else. He broke him. Clearly, he'd lost his sanity. Would this ever end? He had no idea.
No!
He heard something crash.
"Fine," she shrugged seeing the doubt on his lips, "Let's go check this out."
She towed him as they swept every corner of the house for a trace of an interloper. There was none. Dane's work tools involved nothing hard enough to crash but he'd not been mistaken about the noise.
"You take your pills and rest." She patted him lightly on the shoulder as the plumber left.
Shirley grew more supportive as the day went by even though he had yet to open up and empty his guts to her, her patience never ran out.
"I think I'm ready to go on this journey." He handed back the now empty glass to the beaming lady before him. "Do you support me?"
A sexy crooked grin tugged on his lips.
"When do I not?" She placed the glass in the sink, "I want to be a part of this. I'm dying in suspense to know what exactly happened, what it was like, and how to help you. I want all that's broken to be fixed."
"And if it's not?"
She wagged her head dismissively, "That's not an option."
He believed her. As he texted the number Julian Stewart gave him, he was sure as hell things were pretty good from here.
"Stretch out your hands and ask for help." She mumbled, "They will help you. You will feel a lot safer, a lot more free if you know justice was served."
If only it was that easy. She had no idea what this was about and he couldn't fault her for not knowing.