Love Grows in Alaska (The Washington Triplets) (8 page)

“I’m glad he was there. Libby, that isn’t right.” My own fears resurfacing of being verbally attacked by Nate all those years. It’s easy to sympathize with Libby.

“Then it all started to get worse. Camden and Wes started screaming at one another until Wes eventually hauled off and slammed his fist into Camden’s face. Blood splattered everywhere and I couldn’t control my tears. Camden turned around at me, a few more obscenities crossing his lips and then he spit a glop of blood out on the concrete and left.”

“He left you?” I clarify because there was always something I didn’t like about Camden, but had a hard time figuring out why. Now I see—he’s Alaska’s version of Nate.

“Yeah,” she deflates. “Wes picked me up and buckled me in the passenger seat of his car. By the time I could focus on what was happening, I was sitting on his couch with a shot of Jack Daniels in my hand and Wes thigh-to-thigh with me.”

“Lib?” I ask the unanswered question tensing in the air.

Her eyes find mine from across the room and she closes her lids slowly before opening them to me. “Yeah,” she confirms, nodding her head up and down.

“Oh,” I say, still processing the information because I may not have cared before my dad didn’t cheat on my mom, but now this is a hard pill to swallow. I should probably tell Libby that Camden deserved it, but it’s just too close to home right now.

“Marisa, I was drunk, Wes was drunk. I left the next morning and returned back to an apologetic Camden. We never did it again, but then one day at work, Wes left a note on my desk, under my keyboard. Camden was digging around my stuff after we left and found it.”

“What did it say, Libby?” I tenderly press, trying to be gentle.

“He told me I should leave Camden. That he’s not good for me and will constantly hurt me. Also—” She stops, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“What?” I urge her and she closes the gap, sitting back down on the bed.

She swallows, “That he wasn’t that drunk that night and that he wanted to take me out.” Her head flies into her hands and I sit there staring because I can’t believe it.

“God Lib!” I screech. “Why would you keep that?” The minute it leaves my mouth, I wish I could take it back, because it’s evident why she never threw it away.

“Because.” Her eyes begin to tear and they slowly reveal exactly why she kept it. “I felt the same way,” she admits.

“So, why not call it quits with Camden?” I lose her focus again when she rises to her feet and retreats back to the window.

“I’m scared, Marisa. I’m not sure what he’d do to me.”

Standing up, I slowly walk toward her, but she turns her back to me. “Libby,” I say, placing my hand on her shoulder. “Has he ever—”

“No, he’s never hit me, but I doubt he’d be okay if I leave.” I release the breath I’ve been holding in, relief that it hasn’t gotten that bad—yet.

“Lib, you have to.” I ease my way in because I know first-hand when someone from the outside tries to dissect your relationship, you only become defensive.

“I know, Marisa. I’ve tried to conceal the bad parts of our relationship, but lately.” Her teeth clench onto her lip. “Wes has been—god, I’m awful—I can’t stand to listen to myself.” She throws her arms up, her voice inching to a higher level.

“What’s going on Libby? You can tell me.” I inch closer, attempting to comfort her.

“I’m scum, Marisa. I cheated on Camden with Wes.”

Not really knowing what to say, I remain silent and Libby’s hands start shaking as she plays with them. “Libby. It happened once. Just tell Camden, figure out what you want to do and that’s that.” Simple plan in my opinion, that’s not even considering the asshole Camden obviously is.

“Not once,” she whispers and a huff of air leaks out of me in awe before I can suck it in. “I know, Marisa. You don’t have to tell me. I already lie awake at night with thoughts of the horrible person I am.” She distances herself from me, walking back toward the bed. I’m speechless that I had no prior knowledge of any of this.

I’m about to join her when I hear a knocking and then Wes’s voice calling for Libby. Her eyes dart to mine, more fearful than earlier if possible. She may not realize the place Wes might hold, but it’s clear how much she cares for him with that one sole-searching look.

Running to the door, I spring it open and Wes takes two steps from Libby’s door to mine. Peering in, he barges past me without permission. Falling to his knees, he grabs Libby’s hands, wrapping them within his. “Tell me,” he pleas, and more tears erupt from her.

“He’s coming,” she admits, but Wes doesn’t falter his movements. If anything he closes the distance even more. My eyes widen at the different side of Wes coming out tonight.

“Lib,” he waits for her to look up, “he’s here. The front desk just called and said he’d like to talk to me.”

“No … no … no.” She shakes her head. “I’m so sorry.” Her whole body shakes uncontrollably. Wes sits on the bed, wraps his arms around her in safety, holding her tight. It’s the most affection I have ever witnessed from Wes and the thought I’m intruding floats before I remember this is my room.

He murmurs something in her ear and she nods. Then he pulls back and places his hands on either side of her face. “I’ll take care of it. Stay in Marisa’s room. Okay?” She nods again. Then he kisses her forehead and stands up. “I’ll be right back.”

I widen my eyes when Wes reaches me, but he ignores me and exits the room. “Libby, I’ll—”

“Go.” I grab my phone and rush out of the room. By the time I arrive at the elevators, Wes is gone. Pressing the down button a zillion times, it seems forever before the doors slide open and even longer for them to shut and descend. My impatient foot tapping begins as it floats down each floor while I cross my fingers no one stops it from going.

By the time it stops and the doors open, I can hear Wes and Camden’s voices already, shouting at one another. Jogging around the corner, my hand grips the wall when Wes’s fist slams into Camden and he falls back. “Stop!” I scream, but suddenly, I’m the one being stopped. A set of strong hands grip my hips and pull me back. I’m ready to slap them before Zach’s face comes into view, turning that anger to lust again.

“Stay here,” Zach’s sultry voice instructs, pinning me against the wall, wishing his body was the force. I watch his back when he walks away, swearing his muscles flex under his t-shirt, but maybe that’s my hope. He closes the distance between me and the guys quickly, placing his hand on Camden’s throat and pushing him against the glass wall. His take-charge demeanor turns me on even more.

With it being the middle of dinner time, the people milling around stop in their tracks to witness the unfolding scene as though it’s a play put on for their viewing. As much as it upsets me, can I blame them? I too am watching the drama unfold with much wonder. Too consumed with the bystanders, I must have missed Zach escort Camden outside because the only person left in the lobby is Wes. That is until he runs out following them.

Wavering back and forth if I should leave the spot Zach designated for me to stay, I decide I don’t need another guy to dictate my moves. Beginning to walk through the lobby, I hear the hushed whispers of people.
That’s Zach Greer and I’m unsure who the two others are
. I tilt my head and bite the inside of my check because it’s a small town, and everyone knows Zach, but how do the tourists know who he is? Uneasiness washes over me that there’s so much I don’t know about the man.

Circling through the doors again, it’s Zach’s voice that booms through the night air. “Get off the property and if you ever try that stunt again, we’ll call the cops.” His fingers are clenched in Camden’s jacket, holding a fear-stricken Camden an inch away from his face. Camden’s eyes veer my way and Zach follows.

“Marisa,” Camden pleas and Zach releases his grip, making Camden stumble backward until he catches his footing.

“I told you to wait.” He storms my way, his eyes fuming with rage. Holding my ground, my feet remain planted. When we’re chest-to-chest, the anger diminishes, showing more nervousness and alarm. I’m half pissed off that he’s dictating my moves, but the worry on his face keeps my mouth shut while my heart is rambling a zillion thoughts for this man. The distraction of me allows Wes and Camden’s fury to rise and vulgarities spew with fists cocked. Except this time it’s Camden’s solid punch making Wes bleed. “Shit,” Zach mumbles, grabbing my arms, he inches closer to me. “Please, just stay.” His gentle eyes plead and I nod, before he turns on his heels and storms between the two again.

Holding the two of them apart with his arms stretched out, Zach disregards me, his attention solely on them this time. “I’ve had it. I’m about to throw you out,” he says toward Wes. “Drive you to the police station,” he says to Camden. “We do not have people behave this way in King’s Gate.”

“I’m sorry, it’s my fault.” Libby’s soft voice steals the attention away from Zach.

“Lib.” Wes turns at her voice and Zach lets him go. “I told you I have this handled,” he informs her, but she shakes her head, her arms wrapped around herself.

“This is my doing; I need to take care of it.” She places her hand on his arm, stepping closer to Camden. Once she reaches me, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and walk the distance with her. A combined force if you will. Zach loosens his grip and this time Camden falls to the ground. Standing up fast to his feet, he’s right in front of Libby and I. “I’m sorry, Camden,” she says.

“Sorry, my ass. You and this mother fucker.” Camden’s angry voice alarms Zach, so he plants himself between the two while I hold Libby close to me. “How could you?”

“I never meant for it to happen, I swear.” I’m surprised how well Libby is holding up; I’m not sure I would have in the same circumstance.

“And you?” He disregards Libby, fixating on Wes. “What kind of pussy are you to take another guy’s girl?”

“What kind of pussy are you to treat the woman you say you love the way you do Libby? What? Knock her down so bad, so she feels like she can’t do any better? I got news for you, she can and has.” I’m loving this new side of Wes. Makes me want to cheer for him like he’s got the football on the ten-yard line, about to cross over for the winning touchdown.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Camden pushes against Zach’s strong hold, making my heart pitter faster for Zach, to how strong he is. “That’s it. Listen to me closely. You are getting back in your heap of a truck,” Zach says directly to Camden, pointing for emphasis. I hate to admit it, but this bossy side of him makes him even more attractive. Then he turns to Wes. “If you are going to continue to stay here, get the hell back up to your room.”

Wes groans and huffs a few times, but ultimately walks right past Libby and back into the lobby. Camden, not about to listen to Zach, stands there for a minute until the police truck rolls up the drive, stopping behind his car. Zach widens his stance and crosses his arms over his chest, doing his best to intimidate him. A second later, Camden steadily focuses on Libby, who somehow holds his eyes firm with hers. For a girl who was so in love when she got here, things sure turned a corner in only two days.

“Don’t bother coming home, your stuff will be on the curb,” Camden sneers and then retreats back to his truck.

Libby doesn’t toss any words back, but turns around and enters the lobby. I begin to follow her when Zach grips my arm to hold me back. “These are your friends?” he questions, judgment clearly made in those blue eyes.

Pulling my arm away, he winces. “Yes. I mean not him,” I say, tossing my head in the direction of Camden’s taillights. “But her, yes.” Leaving Zach behind, I try to catch up to Libby when the nice redhead front desk clerk rushes through the doors.

“I’m ready for you now, Zach,” she hollers through the darkness of the circular drive out front of the resort.

Snapping my head back to Zach, his face falls and I throw my hands up in the air. “Marisa!” he calls out, but I brush past the petite lady eyeing me up and down. Not willing to stop for him and his lame excuses that the redhead is his cousin, too.

By the time I’m enclosed in the elevator again, I release a deep breath and press the fourth floor button. When the doors open, there’s Wes and Libby in the hallway, Libby crying and Wes consoling her. Not in the mood for their drama when mine just raised sky high, I resort to my room, ignoring the two of them.

Flipping the do not disturb sign outside my door, I strip my clothes off and hop into the shower, allowing the water to warm my cool skin from the air of Alaska. Hopefully washing away the thoughts of Zach with it. The questions storm my mind on who he really is as the droplets cascade down to my tense stricken back. I dry myself off and my body warms with the nice terrycloth robe the resort offers; I comb through my long hair and twist it up into a bun on the top of my head, ready for another night by myself. I cozy up into the softness of the sheets and comforter, grabbing the remote I decide to lose myself in the fantasy of television. Their love stories always end with a happily ever after, whereas mine are more cliffhangers or failures.

Scanning through the guide, breezing by the romantic comedies, wondering if I should click the off button, so I can stop this depressed, feel sorry for myself stage. I throw the remote into the plush velvet chair and toss my head back into the headboard from the exhaustion of my life.

Not wanting to rehash how imperfect I really am, I opt for the distraction of alcohol and food. Grabbing a Snickers bar and small bottle of vodka out of the mini fridge, I bite into the gooey, chocolate and down it with the burn of clear liquid. Bam, just like that, I already start to feel a little better.

Until a knock at my door alarms me. Tiptoeing across the carpeted floor, I inch up to peer through the hole, finding Zach on the other side. My breath hitches and I stare down at the robe and then my hands fly up my still wet hair. “Open the door, Marisa. I know you’re in there,” he cockily remarks, and anger spurs from his arrogant mannerisms.