Read Online Romance: Love Left Behind - A Mystery Romance: (Romance, Mystery, Mystery Romance, Romantic Suspense) by Paige Powers - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Paige Powers
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funeral, Blair. This is important to me. Now I stay in all day, I make all of your food, I work hard, and I’ll be damned if you don’t let me do this one single thing that I’d like to do.”
Then she sat down on the bed, shocked. It felt empowering to scold him, albeit a bit scary. Blair looked fairly taken aback as well, though, which was interesting. For the first time in the last few years, Starla felt like she had the upper hand.
“Fine,” Blair said gently, “you can go. But I want to go with you. And I don’t want you having any interaction with Ben. If he speaks to you at all, I’m going to either tell him to fuck off or I’m going to beat the shit out of him, understood?”
Starla nodded, pleased that she got what she wanted. She went to stand up from the bed but suddenly Blair’s hand shot out and pulled her back down. He wound his fingers through her hair, making sure that he had a strong grip on her head. Yanking her hair back, her neck at an ungodly angle, he hissed venomously, “And if you ever speak to me like that again, the same thing is coming to you.”
Chapter Six:
2014 – Ben
There was no more hustle and bustle, no more honking taxi cabs, and no more tourists with their fancy cameras asking for directions to Central Park when it was only a few blocks away. Bellen was the perfect representation of small town America, of the languid movements of the day to day life. Ben had forgotten how it was when cars stopped at intersections to let others move in front of them. He had forgotten how cheap cups of coffee were at local diners or how clean the air smelled when it was free of food carts and drunk people. In a way, it was invigorating to be back in New Jersey after so many years. It felt strange. During his time in school, his parents had always visited him, letting him drag them around the city to various restaurants and performances. But in eight years, eight long years, he had never once come back to see them.
He got back with two days to go before the funeral. Much of his time was spent comforting his parents, especially his mother, who was oftentimes hysterical with grief. Though Grandpa Cole was not her biological father, the two had grown extremely close through the years. Mrs. Brindell’s own father had walked out on her family when she had been just a child. Her father-in-law, after the wedding ceremony, had almost adopted her as one of his own.
The rest of the time he spent setting up a speech for the funeral, helping to plan the arrangements, and then spending some time by himself, reconnecting with his old town. He spent hours walking through the park. It dragged up memories of himself and Starla, the talks they used to have while sitting in the grass and watching the night sky.
On the night before the funeral, he sat down in the kitchen with his mother. It was a rare moment of composure for her. Mrs. Brindell sat with her hands wrapped around a chipped blue coffee mug, filled to the brim with peppermint tea, sweetened ever so lightly with honey. As Ben sat, she raised her glossy green eyes and met his own.
“Thank you,” she said. Her voice broke. It was as if she was forcing herself to hold it together when in reality she could dissolve into tears at any second.
Ben reached out and soothingly stroked his mother’s fingers. “Of course, Mom,” he said. Then, in a slightly softer voice, “I miss him too.”
“I know you do, baby. It’s just hard. I wish he was still here, but…” She stifled back a sob, choosing instead to lift the coffee mug to her lips and take a sip. “But it is better that he’s not suffering anymore.”
“That’s true. It’s going to be a nice funeral too,” Ben said. “Grandpa Cole would be proud.”
Mrs. Brindell took a couple more sips of tea, relishing the calm feeling it gave her as it slid down her throat and warmed her body. Then she placed the
Then she sat down on the bed, shocked. It felt empowering to scold him, albeit a bit scary. Blair looked fairly taken aback as well, though, which was interesting. For the first time in the last few years, Starla felt like she had the upper hand.
“Fine,” Blair said gently, “you can go. But I want to go with you. And I don’t want you having any interaction with Ben. If he speaks to you at all, I’m going to either tell him to fuck off or I’m going to beat the shit out of him, understood?”
Starla nodded, pleased that she got what she wanted. She went to stand up from the bed but suddenly Blair’s hand shot out and pulled her back down. He wound his fingers through her hair, making sure that he had a strong grip on her head. Yanking her hair back, her neck at an ungodly angle, he hissed venomously, “And if you ever speak to me like that again, the same thing is coming to you.”
Chapter Six:
2014 – Ben
There was no more hustle and bustle, no more honking taxi cabs, and no more tourists with their fancy cameras asking for directions to Central Park when it was only a few blocks away. Bellen was the perfect representation of small town America, of the languid movements of the day to day life. Ben had forgotten how it was when cars stopped at intersections to let others move in front of them. He had forgotten how cheap cups of coffee were at local diners or how clean the air smelled when it was free of food carts and drunk people. In a way, it was invigorating to be back in New Jersey after so many years. It felt strange. During his time in school, his parents had always visited him, letting him drag them around the city to various restaurants and performances. But in eight years, eight long years, he had never once come back to see them.
He got back with two days to go before the funeral. Much of his time was spent comforting his parents, especially his mother, who was oftentimes hysterical with grief. Though Grandpa Cole was not her biological father, the two had grown extremely close through the years. Mrs. Brindell’s own father had walked out on her family when she had been just a child. Her father-in-law, after the wedding ceremony, had almost adopted her as one of his own.
The rest of the time he spent setting up a speech for the funeral, helping to plan the arrangements, and then spending some time by himself, reconnecting with his old town. He spent hours walking through the park. It dragged up memories of himself and Starla, the talks they used to have while sitting in the grass and watching the night sky.
On the night before the funeral, he sat down in the kitchen with his mother. It was a rare moment of composure for her. Mrs. Brindell sat with her hands wrapped around a chipped blue coffee mug, filled to the brim with peppermint tea, sweetened ever so lightly with honey. As Ben sat, she raised her glossy green eyes and met his own.
“Thank you,” she said. Her voice broke. It was as if she was forcing herself to hold it together when in reality she could dissolve into tears at any second.
Ben reached out and soothingly stroked his mother’s fingers. “Of course, Mom,” he said. Then, in a slightly softer voice, “I miss him too.”
“I know you do, baby. It’s just hard. I wish he was still here, but…” She stifled back a sob, choosing instead to lift the coffee mug to her lips and take a sip. “But it is better that he’s not suffering anymore.”
“That’s true. It’s going to be a nice funeral too,” Ben said. “Grandpa Cole would be proud.”
Mrs. Brindell took a couple more sips of tea, relishing the calm feeling it gave her as it slid down her throat and warmed her body. Then she placed the
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