Underestimated Part 13

I put water on to boil while Dawson sat on the couch, slipped out of his shoes and dropped the envelope to the table.

What the h.e.l.l was going on?

I brought us both a cup of tea and sat beside him, eyeing the envelope.

"You have to talk to me, sheriff. I can't stand it a second longer."

He took a deep breath, looking nervous as h.e.l.l.

"Ry, I don't want you to think that I am out to get you in any way," he started.

"Dawson, you're starting to scare me," I admitted, and my heart was beating at a more rapid pace than it should have been.

"I wanted to do this to surprise you, I didn't know that I was going to find out what I did," he explained, and I was scared s.h.i.+tless. I was sure he knew who I was.

Would he call Drew? Would he send me back to Las Vegas?

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about, Dawson?"

He handed me the envelope and I opened it, pulling out its contents.

My heart dropped to my stomach instantly. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I looked over to Dawson and couldn't speak. I didn't know what to say. I turned my attention back to the photographs. I would have known those dimples anywhere. It was Justin, and he was so handsome. He looked so happy. I flipped to the next photo. He was dressed in a baseball uniform and was standing on the pitcher's mound.

"Where did you get these, Dawson?" I asked, touching my beautiful little brother's face.

"Remember when I said I had to go out of town for a family matter last weekend?"

I nodded.

"I met with the social worker that took care of his case."

"Why?" I asked, not understanding.

"I wanted to see if he was still in foster care. If he was, I was going to somehow get him back with you. He's not, Ry. He's in a good home with a family that loves him very much. He does well in school and plays four different sports."

"Where is he?" I asked, staring down at his image in front of me.

"He lives in a very prestigious part of Las Vegas."

My head snapped, uncontrollably to him, but I played it off fairly well. What the h.e.l.l would he be doing in Las Vegas? Who had him? How does a rich family in Las Vegas even know about a little boy in the welfare system from West Virginia? I would never know. I was too chicken to do any investigating on my own. I was too afraid of somebody finding me because of it. No. I would let it go. I had to. He was in a loving home and looked happy. That was all that mattered.

My heart ached for him. I didn't realize how much I loved and missed him until I saw what a handsome young man he had become. I still had a million questions. I didn't understand how Dawson found him. What did he know about me? I answered myself when I flipped to the report obtained from the social worker. It had Justin Michael Willow at the top of the page. I read through the report on how we lived, our trailer that should have been condemned, how there was no food in the house, and how they had left a seventeen year old sister, Morgan Willow, behind.

I turned to Dawson. He knew my name. He knew where I grew up. What else did he know?

"You were out playing private investigator?" I asked, not believing him.

"No, Ry. I was not. I told you. I wanted to find your brother for you. You talk about him in your sleep... a lot. I knew that you told me your maiden name was Murphy, and that was where I hit my roadblock. There wasn't a Justin Murphy in the system anywhere in West Virginia. You were scolding him one night in your sleep and called out Justin Michael Willow. It was simple after that. I don't know how you went from Morgan Willow to Riley Murphy. I need some answers from you that I can't get, and you won't tell me.

"Did you go to my home town?" I asked. My heart was ready to explode.

"Yes," I know how you lived, and it breaks my heart, Ry. I don't blame you for leaving there, but you need to tell me why the name change. Why is your past such a secret? I found five Riley Murphy's in the whole country.

One was a seven year old girl, two of them were men, one was killed in an automobile accident, and one was an eighty three year old woman who lived in a nursing home.

You don't exist. You disappeared on your eighteenth birthday as Morgan Willow and hadn't been heard from since. What is going on, Ry?"

I ignored his probing questions. I was too freaked out.

"I can't believe that you did this, Dawson. You have no idea what you've done."

I stood and paced the floor. My instincts went right to the window. If he did this last week, chances were Drew had already found me. He would have used Justin from the start, hoping that I would try and contact him.

Dawson had just led him right to me.

"I can't stay here," I said and turned back to Dawson.

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about, Riley?"

I was in panic mode. I didn't want to speak, afraid that my house was wired with cameras and bugs. I didn't want to go to his house because his house was probably wired too. I walked out to the deck, breathing crazy breaths, trying to get air into my collapsed lungs.

Dawson followed me out. "Riley, please tell me what is going on. I didn't mean to upset you. I only wanted you to know that your little brother was more than fine, healthy and happy. Tell me what has you so freaked out."

"You shouldn't have gone there. He is going to find me. He will kill me."

"Who is going to find you? n.o.body is going to kill you."

"You don't know him, Dawson. You ruined everything. You just led him right to me by going there. I a.s.sure you he followed your trail right back here."

"Who!? For G.o.d's sake, Riley?"

I looked at him with tears in my eyes, but didn't speak.

"Are you afraid of Drew?" he asked.

I nodded, not sure how much I was willing to disclose. I didn't even freak out about how he knew his name. I already knew that one of my many nightmares had unveiled the information.

"Who is he, Ry?"

"I can't, Dawson. I do have to leave. I can't stay here."

"n.o.body is looking for you here," he tried, but I wasn't buying it. I couldn't.

He took his phone from his pocket which was probably bugged too. He dialed a number as waited and listened.

"Hi, this is the Dawson Bade. I spoke to you last week about an adoption."

I listened to the one sided conversation as he talked.

"I need to know if anyone else knows about me being there or the information that you gave me."

"Yes."

"I see."

"Thank you. That would be great."

Dawson said goodbye and I looked at him waiting for something, anything to ease my mind.

"I am the only one she has ever given any information to. There was an attorney there for some big company five months ago asking for information. The guy flashed five hundred dollars for any information about anyone asking about Justin Willow. She told the guy to go to h.e.l.l and had him escorted out. n.o.body has been back until me, and she promised that she would not tell anyone that she gave me what she did. She said she could get into a lot of trouble for sharing it with me. She only did it because she knew you were his sister, and I told her how much it haunted you, not knowing where he was.

"Do you really think n.o.body knows you were there?" I asked, feeling just a little better.

"Yes, Ry. I do."

I breathed a deep long breath, and Dawson wrapped me in his arms. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest. He kissed the top of my head and squeezed me tighter.

"You have to talk to me, Ry."

I looked up to him, and he kissed my lips softly.

"I'm scared, Dawson," I admitted. I couldn't tell him who I was or where I came from. I needed him in my life, and I didn't want him to leave me.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Ry,"

he promised, and I truly wanted to believe him.

Dawson made love to me for the first time that night, and it was like nothing I had ever experienced. It was hard for me at first. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to act, and I wasn't used to having someone put my needs first. He was so gentle and loving toward me, and my emotions were on overload.

Dawson kissed me pa.s.sionately, something else that I wasn't used to. We were standing in my bedroom, and when he moved his hands up my s.h.i.+rt, I thought it was the most comforting thing I had ever felt in my life. His hands were gentle and warm on my back and sides. I was trying to be with him in the moment. I really was, but I felt almost like I was doing something wrong. When he moved his lips down my neck, kissing and sucking seductively on my neck, I found myself leaving him.

I opened my eyes and caught myself looking around for a camera. I just knew that Drew was watching me with Dawson. What I didn't know was that Dawson was more in tune with me than I was myself.

"Stay with me," he whispered just below my ear.

His warm breath quickly brought me back to him.

What the h.e.l.l was I supposed to do? I knew that laying spread eagle on my bed for him wasn't what he wanted, but what did he want? I didn't know how to be in a relations.h.i.+p, not a real one anyway. I didn't know how to make love. I knew how to do what I was told and please my man. Dawson wasn't interested in me pleasing him. He wanted to please me.

I was terrified. I didn't know if I was supposed to touch him or wait for him to tell me what to do. Yes, I know. A twenty five year old woman should know these things. I didn't. I swear I didn't. I didn't have a clue. How could I? I never had an o.r.g.a.s.m until I was sixteen. I was afraid to, and that went back years to my f.u.c.ked up life.

My dad had come into the bathroom once when I was seven. Seven, for G.o.d's sake. I didn't know what I was doing then either. I was bent over curiously, looking at myself sitting on the toilet. He came unglued. He whipped me so hard, and demanded that I wasn't going to be a s.l.u.t like my mother. I didn't even know what a s.l.u.t was. He had told me that he would know if I touched myself because my fingers would start turning black. He would make me show him my fingers every so often after that. I remembered how I would freak out if the toilet paper ripped and I accidentally touched myself. I would wash my hands over and over, afraid that they really would turn black.

My grandmother had set in stone when she told me too that my fingers would turn black. I never found out the truth until I was over sixteen years old. We were at my aunt's house one evening, and she and my other aunt were laughing and joking about my grandmother telling them the same thing when they were little girls.

"Where'd you go, Ry?" Dawson asked once again, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Seven."

"Uh?" he asked, backing away briefly.

I didn't answer. I kissed him instead, trying to make myself focus on him.

He sensed every part of my trepidation and would stop and kiss me lightly until I was calm and was back with him and not Drew. I didn't talk to him about Drew that night, and was not ready to share that part of my life just yet. I didn't know if I ever would.

After a couple of weeks of looking at every new face that came into the shop like they were there to spy on me, constantly staring out my windows at night for a strange car, and jumping at every little noise, I started to relax. I was starting to realize n.o.body was there looking for me, and n.o.body was taking me back to that place.

I had been in Misty Bay for almost nine months.

My life was good. I had good friends, and I was madly in love with my sheriff. Yes. Me. In love. It made me as giddy as a bunch of teenaged girls at a slumber party. I loved my job and my boss, Starlight. We had grown the shop into a lively and striving business.

The months pa.s.sed, and I settled happily into my life. I still had my hang ups, and although the dreams of Justin were replaced with happy dreams and seeing him play baseball and sitting at a table with a real family rather than the ones where he was crying or cold or hungry. The nightmares of Drew still haunted my sleep, and I was grateful for Dawson, who woke with me and soothed me back to reality.

One morning I had opened the shop and Starlight was already there, sitting at her desk in her office. She was wearing the biggest smile ever.

"Good morning," I said, depositing my purse on its rightful hook.

"Guess where you and I are going?" she asked, holding an envelope in her hand.

"Where?" I asked.

"Vegas, baby," she exclaimed, pulling two plane tickets from the envelope.

Like h.e.l.l I am...

"Why?" I asked as my heart plummeted to the bottom of my stomach.

"Remember I told you about the trade show they have there. You have done so much with this place, and I want you to come with me. I wouldn't feel right going without you."

"We can't just close the shop," I tried, knowing it wouldn't work. I knew she just wanted to reward me for my charitable work, but I didn't want to go anywhere near Las Vegas.

"Yes we can. It's for four days, and we would only really be closing for three. We will fly out after closing on Thursday, close up on Friday, Sat.u.r.day, and Monday, and be back for business on Tuesday."

"When?" I asked. Chances were Drew wouldn't even be home, but that didn't mean that I couldn't be recognized. I had no idea what he had told people. Was I supposed to be missing? Did he tell them that I left him? I had no desire to go to Las Vegas. I had never even typed so much as the word Las Vegas in a search engine. I was tempted a few times, curious as to whether or not he was looking for me or what was being said, but I didn't. I was afraid he could somehow find out what I had searched, like he did when I was there.

"Next month, and don't you try to get out of it either. We'll have a blast, and we could use a couple new vendors."

"Why wouldn't you want to go to Vegas?" Dawson asked later that evening as we both made spaghetti in my kitchen.

I still hadn't disclosed any more information than I had to, and he still didn't know that Drew was there. I knew it was crazy, sort of. Las Vegas was populated with almost two million people, but I still didn't want to go. I didn't want to disappoint Starlight either.

"Because I can't stand the thought of being away from you for four whole days," I replied, it wasn't a lie.

We spent every waking moment that we weren't working, together. He had even stopped working the night s.h.i.+ft on the weekends after his discovery of me being scared out of my wits, worrying that someone was coming for me.

He kissed me. "Have I told you that I loved you today?" he asked.

"Maybe, but you can tell me again if you want," I replied, kissing him back.