Murky Pond

  Streetlight Graphics Publishing

  A division of Streetlight Graphics

  Murky Pond

  Copyright © 2016 by Tabatha L. Haddix. All rights reserved.

  First Edition: November 2016

  Visit www.tlhaddix.com for updates, news, bonuses and freebies.

  www.facebook.com/tlhaddix

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address Streetlight Graphics Publishing, a division of Streetlight Graphics.

  Also by T. L. Haddix

  The Firefly Hollow Series:

  Firefly Hollow

  Butterfly Lane

  Dragonfly Creek

  Cattail Ridge

  Cricket Cove

  Stormking Road

  Fern Valley

  Snapdragon Way

  Stardust Valley

  Kathy

  Spring Valley

  Murky Pond

  The Shadows Collection:

  Secrets in the Shadows

  Under the Moon’s Shadow

  Shadows from the Grave

  Hidden in the Shadows

  In the Heart’s Shadow

  Deception in the Shadows

  Seduction in the Shadows

  Redemption in the Shadows

  Writing as Mallory Love:

  Capturing Colleen (Sunset Motel, Book One)

  Seducing Samantha (Sunset Motel, Book Two)

  You can connect with T.L. on Facebook and her website:

  www.tlhaddix.com

  www.facebook.com/tlhaddix

  If you’d like to receive email notifications about future releases, please subscribe to T.L.’s newsletter at the address below.

  www.tlhaddix.com/newsletter

  Chapter One

  Seven years ago.

  Low, grey clouds hung from horizon to horizon, stretching as far as the eye could see. They looked heavy, as if the brush of a whisper of a breath would cause them to burst with cold, miserable rain. Warren Sullivan turned up the collar of his thin coat at the thought. Even though it was midday, the gloom made him feel like it was nighttime.

  The moody weather was a sharp contrast to the positivity contained within the building behind him. As tempted as he was to turn around and head back to the safety net of the rehab facility, he knew he had to face forward. Going back wasn’t an option, not unless he wanted to climb into the grave.

  Hefting his duffel on his shoulder, he took a couple of steps toward the parking lot. As his eyes searched the expanse, he bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t see the truck he’d hoped would be there. He glanced at his watch, a pinch of despair hitting him when he saw he was actually later getting out than he’d promised.

  Caleb wasn’t coming.

  For a moment, Warren didn’t know what to do. In his worst nightmares, he’d imagined his brother turning his back on him once and for all. After everything Caleb and his wife, Brooke, had gone through with him in the last few years, Warren couldn’t blame them. But he hadn’t thought until now that it would actually happen.

  A faint sound from the direction of the highway had him looking up. A dark red truck was pulling into the parking lot. Caleb. Warren’s relief nearly had him in tears, although he’d die before admitting that.

  By the time the truck stopped in front of him, Warren had cleared his throat and gotten a hold of himself. He opened the back door and tossed his bag inside, then after a very brief hesitation, he got in the passenger seat.

  “How’d it go?” Caleb Walker asked, eyeing Warren with thorough assessment as he buckled in.

  “Fine. Thanks for coming.” Warren rubbed the side of his thumb on the seam of his jeans beside his knee. “Brooke couldn’t make it?”

  Brooke was Caleb’s wife. Her relationship with Warren had been strained since he’d shown up drunk at a family event and caused a scene that, to this day, made him cringe to remember.

  “Her dad had surgery a couple of days ago, and she’s with him. She did tell me to give you a big hug for her.” His half-brother sent him a grin as he headed for the road. “She’s proud of you, and she’s looking forward to seeing you at home.”

  Warren snorted, not believing that for an instant. His sister-in-law was more likely to send him a punch than a hug. “I’m sure she’s tickled pink at the prospect of having me under her roof again, even if it is only until I find a job and a place to stay. How’s Arlen?”

  “He’s fine. It was just a knee thing. As for Brooke, she’s cautiously optimistic.” Caleb tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for traffic to clear. “About that job… I may have something lined up for you if you’re interested.”

  “How many strings did you have to pull to come up with it? I don’t want you calling in all your favors for me, brother.”

  “I only had to pull one string, thank you very much. If it works out, you’ll end up doing a lot of good, taking a lot of weight off a close friend’s shoulders. I think you’ll enjoy the work too. It’s not easy and the hours are long, but the pay’s good, and you can’t beat the views.”

  Warren gave an incredulous laugh. “How much did you have to dress me up for that one? Do they know I’m an ex-con? And are you going to tell me what it is?”

  “Not yet, no. We’ll take a drive tomorrow if you think you’re interested. I’ll need your word that you’ll give it a fair shot though, or we won’t even make the trip. As to the dressing up, no. They know exactly who you are and what you’re coming out of. That doesn’t scare them. While they’re not without concerns, they understand the importance of second chances.”

  Caleb’s tone was serious with no hint of teasing, a somber talk from a man well known for giving most everything a hint of charm and humor.

  The passing scenery wasn’t much to look at—industrial buildings and warehouses that only added to the cold feel of the day. They were an hour from London, the small Kentucky town where Warren had grown up and where Caleb lived and worked as a veterinarian.

  Warren was suddenly as weary as if he’d been in the car for days. “Is it outside work?”

  “Mostly. At least half the time, yeah.” Caleb glanced at him. “You miss being outside?”

  In answer, Warren rolled the window halfway down, letting in the crisp November air. He closed his eyes against the sudden tears that threatened and inhaled deeply, shakily. When he felt like he could talk without breaking down, he swallowed. “Like I’d miss breathing. I don’t care what the job is, so long as I can walk outside whenever I want to, need to.”

  Caleb clasped Warren’s shoulder tightly. “Good. Good. I think it’s just what you need after what you’ve been through.”

  “I put myself through most of that, you know.” Warren’s voice was harsh in the quiet of the cab. “The drinking, the fighting. Jail. There’s no one to blame for that but the guy you’re sitting beside.”

  “I can’t disagree.”

  Warren shook his head, his smile lopsided and sad. “You’d be lying if you tried.”

  “I feel guilty that I wasn’t a good enough parent to you,” Caleb confessed. “So does Brooke.”

  Warren’s mother had dropped him off at Caleb’s office one day, fed up with be
ing a single parent. She’d signed him over to Caleb and Brooke and never looked back. They’d taken him in without a second thought and made him part of their family. His welcome had only grown worn in the last couple of years when, full of grief and rage that had no place to go, he’d started drinking and gotten into real trouble.

  At a complete loss for words, Warren stared at his brother. “You—no. Cal, you and Brooke saved me. You took me in when you didn’t have a reason in the world to. None of this is on you guys. Not a bit of it.”

  Caleb moved a shoulder. “Maybe, maybe not. We should have realized you didn’t have the tools you needed to cope with losing Jess and the baby. We should have seen that, and if we had, maybe we could have helped.”

  Hearing his late wife’s name still stung, and the past threatened to rush in. Jess’s sweet smile and infectious laugh, her gently rounded belly they’d both loved to touch and talk to, the careless mistake by a negligent doctor that had cost him everything…

  He pushed those thoughts away and crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, unable to sit still. “Damn it, no. Now look, that’s bullshit. If I wasn’t ‘reformed,’ I’d punch you as soon as we get out of this truck. You guys are the reason I’m still here, you two and the kids. Like I said, I’m the one who went down that path. Nobody set me on it but me. Not you, not the old man, no one. Got that?”

  Caleb’s mouth was pinched as he slowly shook his head. “Stubborn mule.”

  “Takes one to know one,” Warren shot back. And then he laughed, truly amused. “At least I’ve got a good vet, right?”

  “Smart-ass .”

  Warren agreed instantly. “Good mules usually are smart.”

  Finally, Caleb relaxed, his own smile breaking through. “I’m glad you’re here with us, you know.”

  Settling in with a sigh, Warren forced his concerns and the darkness of the past to the back of his mind. “So am I.” The funny thing was, he almost meant it.

  Walking back into the house he’d spent most of his growing-up years in was jarring for Warren on a lot of levels, not the least of which was the reminder of how much he’d missed his family in recent months. It was also a noisy, cacophonous welcome back that got off to a much warmer start than Warren had anticipated when Skylar, Caleb’s eleven-year-old daughter, squealed from the top of the steps and half-ran, half-jumped down to the bottom, where she proceeded to launch herself at him.

  “You’re here! Mom, he’s here!” she hollered, even as she nearly squeezed him in half. “We made fried chicken and mashed taters and I helped with it all.”

  Warren laid a hand on her head, holding her close for a moment. “You’ve grown a foot since I saw you last,” he said, his voice gruff.

  It wasn’t a tremendous exaggeration. She’d gained three inches in the last year, going from slightly pudgy to gangly and awkward.

  She grinned at him, showing off her braces. “Grandpa Arlen keeps threatening to put bricks on my head. I gotta check on the kittens we got last week. Come see them?”

  “In a minute, kiddo,” Caleb told her. “Let’s get him in the door first, okay?”

  She sighed, but she was smiling as she went down the hall toward the back of the house. “Yes, sir.”

  “You okay?” he asked Warren in a murmur once she was gone.

  Warren cleared his throat. “I didn’t know if she’d forgive me or not.” It was Skylar’s birthday party he’d ruined, after all.

  His brother gave him a one-armed hug, then ruffled his hair. “You’re still her favorite uncle. That was never in danger. Come on. Let’s get you settled in. We’re putting you in your old room, if that’s okay.”

  “That’s fine. That’s what I expected.” He followed Caleb up the stairs. “I appreciate this.”

  “Yeah? Enough to do the dishes tonight?”

  Warren laughed. “Sure.”

  The room wasn’t much different than he remembered leaving it, though the scent of laundry detergent hung softly in the air, telling him the linens had been freshened. The only things missing were the pictures from his corkboard above his desk, pictures of him and Jess and their life together.

  When Warren stopped beside the desk, staring at the empty space, Caleb touched his arm. “They’re in the top drawer. Brooke put them in a box there after…”

  After. Warren touched the handle on the desk but didn’t open the drawer. “I barely remember that night. How much damage did I do?”

  “Nothing that couldn’t be fixed.”

  He’d been stinking drunk, and Caleb had come to town to pull Warren out of a bar. Warren could recall sitting on the floor with the corkboard, crying and cursing in turns as he untacked the pictures and stacked them to the side with the intention of burning them.

  “Did I actually get them lit?”

  “Just one.”

  Lips tight, Warren swallowed down his grief. “There are a lot of ghosts here.”

  “I know. Promise me you’ll tell me if you need help dealing with them?”

  “I will. If it still means anything, you have my word.” He met his brother’s eyes and gave a short nod.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Caleb handed him a set of keys. “Front door’s on here, and so is the key to the storage unit in town. That’s where your furniture and stuff is from the trailer.”

  “You kept that?”

  With a scowl, Caleb checked the phone on his belt. “Of course we kept it. Get settled in if you want. This is Mrs. Mitchell. One of her dachshunds just had puppies, and she’s a nervous wreck. The owner, not the dog. I have to take this. Sorry.”

  Warren gave him a thumbs-up to show him that was fine. He was getting ready to close the door, needing a moment to himself, when a quiet voice piped up from the hall.

  “Can we come in?” Big brown eyes peered at him from around the edge of the door.

  “Of course you can.” Warren smiled and held his arms open, dropping to one knee. “Come here.”

  Elijah and Hadley, ages nine and seven respectively, rushed inside. Within seconds, they’d tackled Warren to the floor, a giggling mass of little-boy enthusiasm as they climbed on him, chattering the whole time about the new kittens, a mean girl at school, and how they were going to help in the barn that weekend.

  Warren ate it up. At the same time, his heart was breaking. This was what he’d missed, what he’d lost. The pain was so intense, he almost couldn’t bear it. He wasn’t about to ask them to leave though. He loved them too much, and he needed to hold on to them for a bit.

  Brooke found them there a few minutes later. She stopped in the door, her arms crossed, and smiled at them. “Can you get a word in edgewise?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  She laughed and stepped inside. “Boys, go get your hands washed for dinner, please. I need a minute with your uncle.”

  Nerves flew into his stomach as if they’d been shot from a cannon as she ushered her sons from the room gently. Here was the meeting he’d been dreading. Not wanting to be at a disadvantage, he stood.

  Brooke closed the door. She turned to him without a word, looking him over from head to toe, hands on her hips. “You’re home.”

  Warren nodded. “I am.”

  “This won’t be easy.” She tilted her head.

  “I don’t expect it to be.”

  “Good. It’s good that you know that.” She sighed and held out her hands.

  Heart in his throat, Warren took them.

  “That’s my boy.” Then she was hugging him, squeezing him as tightly as Skylar had done earlier. “My first boy. We’ve missed you so.”

  He closed his eyes and swallowed hard against the tears that threatened to choke him. Resting his head on hers, he let out a shuddering breath. Here was the woman who’d taken him in without blinking, protecting him fiercely from the first day as though she’d given birth
to him. The woman who’d seen him through the toughest years of his childhood and being a teen, who’d encouraged him and loved him at every turn, who’d gotten him through the worst days of his life. He thought of Brooke as his mother, and as he thought about everything he’d put her through, grief threatened to swamp him.

  Before he could form words, she pulled back, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand before blotting his tears with her thumbs, just as she’d done the first night he’d spent with her and Caleb, when he’d had a nightmare in the middle of the night. “None of that. We’re going forward. Fresh start, clean slate from this day on. The past isn’t gone, but it isn’t in control anymore. Understand me?”

  Warren nodded, but speaking was beyond him. He picked up her hands and kissed the backs instead.

  Her smile was winsome. “That’s my boy. Come on. Let’s get you fed. You’ve lost too much weight.”

  For the first time in ages, he felt like things might be okay between them, that maybe he hadn’t destroyed their relationship beyond repair with his behavior. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Downstairs, chaos reigned. It was so familiar, so precious, Warren could hardly stand it. He could see what his counselors had tried to explain, what he’d understood but not believed fully, that there was still hope and life in his world. He didn’t think he’d ever fill the emptiness losing Jess and the baby had created, but he could live with it.

  For one day, one hour, one minute, he could live with the grief. He’d take that minute and he’d build on it with another and another again until he could breathe. And when that got to be too much, when he didn’t think he could stand another minute, he’d start all over again.

  Chapter Two

  Long after everyone had gone to sleep, Brooke was still wide awake, staring at the ceiling in the dark. All her children were home now, safe and sound under one roof for the first time in a very long time. Tonight, she knew that. Tomorrow? Well, the morning would mean letting go again, and Brooke had never been good at letting go.