Page 66 of Jam and Jingle Bells
She scares me, too. Her wrath was the only reason I was leaving the ER at nine o’clock on a Wednesday night. Mel must have squealed to my mother about my finger because she showed up on my doorstep minutes after Mel and Holly left. She took one look at it without the steri-strips and insisted I get it checked out. Now, five stitches later, I had pleased my mother but screwed up the rest of my week.
He pushed me up against the wall of the carpet store in the shadows. “I was thinking,” he said, his eyes focused on my lips. “I’d like to buy you a piece of pie at the diner as a reward for not crying when they stitched your finger.”
My tongue darted out to lick my lips and he groaned, attacking them with a fever of a man who had waited too long to taste the woman he loved. His tongue was practically down my throat when we heard an engine racing and yelling from the street.
Inappropriate racial slurs were yelled and a bottle broke next to my head. I screamed and was pulled down at the same time by Ellis. “Alley!” he yelled, pulling me into the space between the two buildings as the car raced by and another bottle busted apart on the brick wall.
We stood with our backs against the store, both of us breathing heavily as we tried to catch our breaths from the pure adrenaline dump. “What the hell was that?” I asked, anger filling my bones. “What the ever-loving fu—”
“Addie,” Ellis said, taking my hand. “It’s okay, take a breath.”
I flipped around and checked him over. “Did you get hurt? Did you pull anything when you ducked?” I asked frantically, running my hands down his chest.
He grabbed them and held them still. “I’m okay. I’m more worried about you.”
He lifted my hair back and grimaced. I brought my hand up to my face, but he stopped me and held it at my side. “Don’t touch that until we can get some light on it. Your face is bleeding. Hopefully, it’s just a couple of scratches from the glass.”
“I don’t want to walk on the street in case they come back,” I said, checking the other end of the alley. “They could have parked and are heading back here for all we know.”
He nodded and took my hand. “Which is exactly why we have to go now. We’re going to walk the block up to the diner and ask Ivy for help. Let’s go.” He grabbed my good hand and propelled me out of the alley and onto the sidewalk again.
“What if they come back?” I checked behind me nervously as he dragged me up the street.
“They won’t, they got their shot in, but if they do, just keep walking. We’re almost to the diner.”
I had to practically run to keep up with the guy who had a pacemaker put in four days ago. How pathetic was that? In my defense, I was scared out of my wits and my face hurt. They better pray they didn’t scar up my face for my friends’ wedding or they were going to pay when I found them. The diner loomed ahead as cheery as ever. The lights were on, the tree shone brightly into the night, and I could see Ivy behind the counter talking to the cook.
Ellis pushed through the door of the diner like a hurricane and pulled me inside and then around the counter. He motioned at Ivy to follow us into the hallway through the swinging doors.
“What’s going on?” she asked concerned.
Ellis stood in front of me. “I don’t want her in front of the windows. Can we use your office?”
Ivy stepped around him and took a look at me for barely a second before she pointed to the backdoor. “Go to my house. I’ll let Mason know I’m leaving.”
I was dragged through the door of the diner and across the parking lot straight to Ivy’s house, which sat behind the Nightingale Diner. Mrs. Bevvywetter had bought the house years ago when it came up for sale. She wanted it to be part of the Nightingale legacy, which meant the Nightingale in possession of the diner at the time lived in the house. When they transferred ownership to the next Nightingale, the house also transferred. It was an amazing legacy if you asked me and I was always moved to see the beautiful old Victorian when I got a chance to visit Ivy. Tonight’s visit was anything but charming.
The door opened before we even got there, which meant Ivy had called ahead and told Shep to let us in. We slid through the door, followed by Ivy a few moments later. She closed it behind her and turned to me, pulling my hair back. “What the hell happened.”
Ellis explained while she tucked my hair back behind my ear. “It’s fine,” I promised, batting at her hand. She noticed my bandaged finger then and gave me thewhat the helllook. I held it up. “I cut my hand on my shears and Mom insisted I get it looked at. She dropped us at the ER and we told her we’d walk home. We had just left the hospital when those idiots showed up.”
Ivy spun on her heel to face the two guys behind her. “Shep, would you call the PD and get them out here? I’m going to clean her face and see how bad it is. Ellis, sit in the living room and rest. Make sure you didn’t hurt yourself, too.”
“I’m fine,” he promised. “I’m worried about Addie. That bottle almost took her out.”
Ivy pointed to the living room without words and Ellis slunk away like a child being scolded. I snickered as Ivy led me to the downstairs bathroom off the kitchen. She snapped the light on and the little space reminded me of sunshine on a rainy day. It was small, but the bright yellow tiles sparkled in the light.
She grabbed a washcloth from the cupboard above the toilet and handed it to me. I pulled my hair back and sighed, the blood trailing down my face like a horror flick.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I said tightly, then ran the water to warm and tried to wring it out one-handed. She finished the job and handed it back silently while I wiped away the blood, being careful to make sure I didn’t rub any glass further into the wounds. Thankfully, there was no glass and the cuts were small, except for one, which had sliced into my cheek and would definitely leave a mark. “Nothing stitch worthy,” I joked. “I’ll live to see another day.”
Ivy’s lips were tugged into a grim line and she grabbed her first-aid kit. She handed me ointment and a small bandage for the larger cut. We joined the guys back in the other room only this time, there was another body filling the space. Officer Gabe.
I joined Ellis on the couch and waved at Gabe. “How’s it going?” I asked, patting Ellis’s leg while he doublechecked my face. His lips were frowning, but I gave him a wink. “It’s fine. You’ll barely see them in the morning.”
“It’s not fine, though,” Ellis said through clenched teeth. “Someone chucked bottles at you while yelling racial slurs.”
“The racial slurs were actually aimed at you,” I pointed out. “Which is beside the point. Gabe, this just doesn’t happen in Bells Pass. What’s going on?”
