by Jenna Jacob
After spilling my guts to Trudy in my little kitchen over a week ago, she’d instructed me to take an extended vacation until my wounds healed. Then she returned to the café and interrogated Monica. The next day, when Trudy brought my suitcase—still containing all the things I’d taken to California—she told me that once she found out Monica hadn’t bothered to call the police or checked with the area hospitals, the shit hit the fan, and she’d fired Monica on the spot.
It was the first time in my life that anyone had ever gone to bat for me. I’d felt so liberated and exonerated, I’d nearly broken down. The following week, wearing a long-sleeved shirt to hide the scars on my wrists, Trudy introduced me to Shane Sims. The cocky, infuriating fry cook had been making my life a living hell ever since.
“My name is Caris,” I bit out for the umpteenth time.
A slow, suggestive smile kicked up one side of his mouth—so similar to Syd’s that an unwelcome shiver slid through me—then winked. “I know. I just like watching you get all riled up. It’s cute.”
“I’ll show you cute when I throw this plate of scrambled eggs in your face.”
When Shane tossed his head back and laughed, I clenched my jaw and spun on my heel, then delivered Clyde Miller his breakfast with a scowl.
“He’s sweet on you, Caris,” Old Man Miller whispered as he patted the back of my hand. “Why don’t you give that young stallion a chance?”
“I stopped taking chances when I was eighteen, Clyde. Besides, Shane’s nothing but a dirty dog looking for a new toy.”
The old man flashed a grin and nodded. “Smart girl.”
A smart girl wouldn’t go home each night, boot up her computer, and track the Licks of Leather tour route, and search for new photos of the man she ached to kiss and hold again.
A smart girl wouldn’t calculate how many hours it would take to drive to Jackson, Mississippi, where the band was scheduled to perform next week.
A smart girl would have given him the option of outing himself to his fans and bandmates, instead of taking that decision from him.
A smart girl wouldn’t cry herself to sleep each night missing a man she couldn’t have.
No, if I were a smart girl, I’d wipe Syd from my memory banks and kick the aggravating fry cook in the balls.
I could have challenged Old Man Miller’s claims for hours, but there were orders to take, plates to serve, and tables to clean.
When Shane tapped the bell again, I whipped my head his direction. A mischievous glint flickered in his eyes as he called out, “Order up—”
“Caris!” I screamed, setting off a round of laughter from the customers and a raised brow from Trudy manning the cash register.
“Caris,” Shane repeated, with a taunting grin.
Pinning him with a glare meant to incinerate him to ash, I grabbed the plate of waffles and the one teeming with scrambled eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns, then charged to deliver them to Doc Everly and his daughter, Helen, patiently waiting in one of the booths.
Over the past hour, the breakfast rush had slowed down and customers had started thinning out. As I snagged the coffeepot to make my rounds refilling mugs, I glanced up at the television mounted on the wall near the front door.
“We have breaking news out of Los Angeles,” the pretty blonde reporter stated somberly.
“That’s right, Gayle. There’s a horrific story coming out of Hollywood this morning, involving the recording industry,” the equally somber male co-anchor announced.
My blood turned to ice.
My heart skipped a beat, then started pounding like a jackhammer.
Is this it?
Is this the news I’ve been watching and waiting for?
Did Mia finally managed to take that monster down?
“The LA District Attorney’s Office issued an arrest warrant charging internationally known and multimillionaire recording agent, Carl Zattman with thirty-seven counts of criminal kidnapping, rape, sodomy, and three counts of murder.”
When the image of Zattman’s evil face filled the screen, a rush of terror detonated in my veins. A whimper of fear pealed off the back of my throat, followed by the muted sound of breaking glass. My heart was thrumming so loudly in my ears, I couldn’t make out the reporter’s words. My brain was so busy replaying every punch, slap, cut, and burn Zattman had inflicted while I lay helplessly bound to his bed that I was barely aware of the pain peppering my leg or the gasps and cries of the customers around me.
Tremors shook my body like a series of earthquakes. A hand clutched my shoulder, sending a punch of adrenaline sailing through my system. I whipped around and raised a fist as I met Trudy’s worried gaze.
“You’re safe,” she whispered, piercing my panic as she wrapped me in a hug and pressed her mouth close to my ear. “Relax. Listen to me, honey, he’s locked up in jail. He can’t hurt you now. It’s all right. I’ve got you.”
“What’s happening, Caris? Tell me what’s wrong…what doesn’t feel right?” Doc Everly’s deep voice, filled with concern, spilled over me like a warm, safe blanket.
He was a kind, grandfatherly sort, the epitome of a small-town physician you’d see in movies or on TV. And though I took great comfort in his soothing timbre, I realized I was causing a scene.
What’s wrong? Everything.
“Papa, I think she’s going into shock,” Helen whispered.
“I know, dear. Get my coat, wrap it around her. Help me get her across the street and settled into the exam room.”
“No,” I blurted, breaking free of my terror-stricken stupor. “I-I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“What can I do to help?” Shane suddenly appeared beside Trudy; his blue eyes shimmered with worry instead of mischief.
“Nothing. No one needs to do anything,” I assured, forcing a tight smile. “I just…”
“Need to come to my office, Caris,” Doc stressed. “At least long enough for me to take care of the cuts and burns on your legs.”
“Cuts and burns. Cuts and burns. Why is it always cuts and burns?” I asked on a half-crazed laugh.
God, I’m losing my mind, coming unglued at the hinges in front of the whole damn town.
Okay, so I was exaggerating. There were only a handful of customers in the place. But by lunchtime, everyone in Diamond City would know I’d lost my marbles.
“Caris, go with Doc and let him fix you up. Shane and I will take care of things here,” Trudy assured.
“Okay,” I whispered, hyperaware of the customers’ uneasy stares.
As Helen draped Doc’s coat over my shoulders, I took a step and jolted at the glass crunching under my foot. Looking down, I was mortified to find the coffeepot reduced to shimmering splinters in a puddle of black liquid.
“Oh, Trudy. I’m so sorry. It…it must have slipped out of my hand.”
“I know, honey. I know.” She nodded with a reassuring smile. “We’ll take care of it while Doc takes care of you. Just, please, don’t worry about anything. You have friends who love you. Friends who’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, understand?”
Ever since the morning after I’d returned home and we’d dropped our walls and shared our secrets, Trudy and I had grown exponentially closer…we’d become real friends.
As Doc and Helen led me from the café, I tried to mask the raw unease pulsing in my veins but was afraid everyone could see right through me. Keeping my head down, I let the pair lead me out into the chilly wind and across the street.
It didn’t take long for Doc Everly to notice the fresh scars on my body as he cleaned and wrapped the fresh cuts and burns. When he asked me about them, I simply shook my head and remained silent.
He pursed his lips and clasped my hand. “I know you don’t remember, but I was there with Celest, the night you were born.”
The mention of my mom’s name sent a rush of emotion through me. Tears stung my eyes, but I frantically blinked them away. I was eight the night she died from the house fire I’d miraculously
escaped. Since my dad had been one of the last Americans killed in the Iraq war, four months before I was born, Celeste Burton had been both loving mother and father. Even now, after all the years without her, I could still see the glowing smile on her face. Still hear the sweet sound of her laughter ring in my ears.
Of course, the days following the fire, I didn’t want to remember her at all. I’d started tucking memories of her inside a thick lead box. It was the only way I could escape the pain of losing the center of my world, the light of my life, and cope with the desolate fear of being an orphan.
“And sadly, I was with her in the ambulance holding her hand, like I’m holding yours now, when her loving light left this earth.” Doc wiped away the tear sliding down my cheek. “I saw the way you reacted when that man’s face flashed on the television screen. He’s the one who left these scars on you, isn’t he?”
I nodded as another tear leaked out.
Doc grimly nodded. “Trudy’s right, you know. You bring joy to a lot of people in this town, Caris. We love you, and we will protect you, no matter what.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Come on, I’m taking you home. You’re too shaken to drive and it’s too cold to walk. Besides, I want you off your feet and resting today and tomorrow.”
“But Trudy needs—”
“Trudy doesn’t need squat. She’s been running that café for years. She’ll handle the customers just fine. I’ll stop in and let her know you’ll be back to work in a couple days.”
He wrapped his coat around me and helped me off the exam table. Any other time, I would have balked and done it myself, but seeing that monster’s face again sucked the fight right out of me.
When Doc Everly pulled into my driveway, I thanked him and hurried inside. Locked safely inside my warm, familiar safe haven, I peeled off my clothes, climbed into bed, and pulled the covers to my chin. All I wanted to do was sleep for a month.
But sleep wouldn’t come because I couldn’t turn off my damn brain. After tossing and turning and cursing for over an hour, I threw off the covers, donned my robe, and padded to the kitchen. After fixing a cup of tea, I grabbed the plush blanket off the couch, wrapped it around me, and stepped onto the back porch overlooking the lake.
There were no boats or fishermen this time of year. The water was like a sheet of smooth glass, sparkling beneath the midday sun. The house might be small, but the view from my weather-worn deck was enormous and dazzling and well worth every penny of rent.
The news about Zattman was still sitting in the forefront of my brain, but Trudy’s assurance that the monster was securely behind bars eased some of my worries, but not many. The animal had my purse, my wallet, my driver’s license…my address. Logically, I knew Zattman had bigger fish to fry than traipsing to nowhere Arkansas so he could keep his promise to take me out with a bang. But he’d planted that fear so deep in my brain, I couldn’t pry it out.
Yes, Trudy and Doc assured me, the people of Diamond City would protect me, but how? I lived in a secluded house by an empty lake. If Zattman did find me, no one would ever hear my screams.
Had the bastard posted bail?
Was he on his way here now to torture me more before he killed me?
The talons of a full-blown panic attack sank deep, shivering me so brutally that my tea sloshed over the rim of my mug. Bolting from the chair, I gasped for air as I hurried inside and locked the patio door behind me. Then I rushed to the kitchen and bent over the sink as bile rose up the back of my throat. Sucking in slow, deep breaths, I worked to quell my overactive imagination.
I was slowly climbing off the ledge when a knock came from the front door, jolting me up the mountain of anxiety again and ripping a yelp from my throat.
Stop it. It’s probably Trudy dropping off my car, I inwardly chided as I headed for the door. I gripped the knob and then froze.
“Who is it?” I called out, cringing at the fear in my voice.
“I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m not sure if I’m at the right place or not,” replied a woman with a hauntingly familiar voice. “I’m looking for Caris Burton.”
“Who are you?”
“Caris? It is you, isn’t it? Open the door, honey. It’s Mia.”
Mia?
What on earth was she doing here, and how in the hell had she found me?
Yanking the door open, I gaped at her shivering on the front porch wearing a heavy coat, blue jeans, and boots. Idling in my driveway was a long black stretch limo with heavily tinted windows. For once, I was glad I lived in the boonies. A limo in Diamond City was akin to finding a unicorn.
“Mia? What are you doing here? Please, come in.” I started to shut the door but stopped and glanced at the glossy black vehicle again.
Was Syd inside, looking at me from behind those dark windows?
Don’t be ridiculous, scoffed a little voice in my head.
“I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I found out a couple days ago that—”
“Zattman’s been arrested.”
“You know?”
“Yeah. It was on TV this morning.”
She blinked and gaped. “Shit. The DA was supposed to keep a lid on it another twenty-four hours. I’m sorry, Caris. I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Mia paused and exhaled a heavy sigh. “Because Zattman posted bail.”
“I suspected he would. I mean, he is rich and famous, and—”
“No, he’s struggling financially and has a shitty reputation in the industry. But he put up his mansion as collateral in lieu of a cash bond, and the judge accepted. Zattman was released late last night.”
“How do you know all this?”
“The guys gave the photos they stole from Zattman’s safe to Reed Landes. He’s our agent Quinn MacKinnon’s lawyer. Reed has a friend in the DA office out in LA, whose old frat brother is friends with another lawyer who works in the firm representing Zattman.”
“Let me get this straight. Zattman’s lawyer is feeding information to Reed?”
“I gotta plead the Fifth on that. The less you know where those details are coming from, the better.” Mia paused and nibbled her bottom lip, then sent me a sad smile. “But since he was arrested, Zattman’s been running his mouth. He hasn’t mentioned you to his lawyer by name, but he’s screaming about being set up. Since you were his last victim, he thinks you’re the one who stole the photos and turned him in. He’s promised that once he’s free, he’s going to, quote, take care of you.”
The room started to sway as my whole body began quaking uncontrollably.
“I need to sit down.” I didn’t wait for Mia to follow, simply plopped on the couch and numbly stared out the patio door.
“I’m so sorry to have to lay all this on you, Caris. I know it’s a lot on top of what Zattman put you through, but Reed and I don’t think you’re safe here, honey.”
Panic punched me like a blinding uppercut.
Launching off the couch, I paced the small living room.
It wasn’t my overactive imagination.
“You think Zattman’s coming here…to k-kill me?”
“Like I said, he didn’t outright say your name, but Reed is concerned, especially since Zattman has your purse and thus knows where you live.”
Head spinning and stomach churning, I could barely breathe past my terror.
“What do I do now?” I panted as fear gripped and squeezed my heart and the breath out of me. “I-I don’t even own a gun. I-I mean, I know how to shoot, but…”
Mia stood and wrapped her arms around me, forcing me to stop pacing, then pinned me with a fierce stare. “You’re going to pack your bags, then we’re going to get inside the limo and drive to the private jet that’s waiting for us in Gaston. Then we’re going to fly to Denton, Texas and take a limo to Quinn’s ranch. It’s beautiful, huge, safe, and best of all, it’s in the middle of nowhere. Zattman will never find—”
“A privat
e jet? And a Texas ranch? Are you kidding me right now?” I screeched. Tearing from her arms, I started pacing again. “I can’t leave. I-I have a job. People are counting on me.”
Numb, scared, and confused, I flitted a wild gaze around my living room…my home.
On the beautiful painting of a serene lake I’d found at a garage sale last spring.
On the fragile bone china dragon fly I’d picked up at the thrift store the day I signed my lease.
As I studied the sturdy walls that had always provided a bastion of safety, I suddenly realized, with bone-chilling clarity, that my house wasn’t a fortress or a bastion of safety. It was nothing but a wood-covered shell to keep out the rain and snow. I wasn’t safe here. I wasn’t safe anywhere with Zattman out there wanting to hunt me down and gut me like a deer.
“You can call your boss in the morning and tell him…” Mia paused. “Shit, I don’t know what to tell him. We’ll come up with something.”
“It’s a her…Trudy. She already knows about Zattman.”
Mia blanched. “What do you mean, she already knows? What did you tell her?”
“That he drugged and kidnapped me from the nightclub, then held me prisoner and tortured me. When I saw his photo on the news this morning, I kinda lost my shit, so Trudy sent me home.”
“She sounds like an understanding boss, one who would want you to stay safe, right?” I nodded. “Good. Then you can call her from the limo.”
“And tell her what? Rock queen Phoenix is flying me to a safe house?”
Worry flashed in Mia’s hazel eyes as she bit her lip indecisively. A second later, she waved her hand in the air. “Like I said, we’ll think of something. Right now, you need to start packing.”
“Wait. What if Zattman somehow finds me at the ranch?”
“He won’t. There’s no way he can tie you to Quinn. But we’re still not taking any chances. We’ve hired a couple bodyguards to stay with you at the ranch. They’re outside waiting in the limo.”
“B-b-bodyguards?”
If Mia thought I was going to pack my bags, fly to Texas, and stay with two men I didn’t know, she was crazier than Zattman.
