Sunny.
The volume on the jukebox was turned up…
Down in Louisiana, where the black trees grow, lives a voodoo lady named Marie Laveau with a black cat’s tooth and Mojo bone…
… followed by the bullies’ pitched voices like nails on a chalkboard…
“Never knew skin could be that pale or rip that easy. Bitch is a walking commercial for vaccines.”
“Didn’t know herpes could spread to your arms.”
“Gross. Probably fell off her broom on her way to hospice. Bitch has got stage-five something fo sho.”
“Careful, she’ll turn us into a frog.”
“No, this one’ll shoot you through the eye…”
Fire popped through my veins like an explosion. I surged to my feet, knocking the bar stool behind me onto the ground. I crossed the room with tunnel vision.
Sunny Harper stood facing the bar top, that strong, straight back as she was bullied from behind. Her slitted eyes remained forward, her jaw locked in a way that almost contorted her face. Flush covered her cheeks, her hands curled to fists at her side. Restraint.
Shocking restraint.
No, practiced restraint.
The cowboys to her right were leaning inches from her, sensing blood, their anger fed from a day of gossip about the death of the pastor’s son. The Aldridge twins were chiding her from the back. A pack of dogs around the injured deer.
My entire body lit with rage.
“You like to target Christians, Voodoo Bitch?” The fat redneck to her right leaned forward. “Why don’t you come to my house next time? I’ve got a stake in my back yard I’d like to show you…”
His buddy picked up a strand of Sunny’s curls. “Bet these kinky, black pubes light up real quick.”
The redneck grinned a nasty, yellow-stained grin. “Bet it smells about the same, too. Let’s see…”
My hand clamped down on the fat bastard’s forearm as his hand reached for the switchblade on his belt. My other hand grabbed his buddy’s wrist, twisting it until he dropped the curl and his head slammed onto the bar top. A pitcher of beer toppled over, a handful of bottles shattered on the hardwood floors.
Chaos erupted.
I flipped open the knife I’d swiped from fat boy’s belt and leaned into his buddy’s ear. “You ever touch one strand of hair on that woman’s head again and your fingers won’t be the only nubs I’ll cut from your body. You understand me, cowboy?”
I dipped as a fist whizzed through the air next to me—less than three inches from Sunny’s face.
That was it.
I snapped.
I spun Sunny’s body away from the center of the chaos and slammed my fist into the redneck’s face.
The two-hundred-fifty pound bastard locked up like a plank, flipping a table on its side as his body hit the floor. The crowd scattered like ants. I grabbed Sunny’s hand and addressed the blonde bitches now gaping at the carnage on the floor.
“Bite your tongues next time, ladies, or I’ll make sure every person in Berry Springs knows about all the dicks you two dirty cunts have sucked in that bathroom.” I nodded to the camera above the bathrooms. “Now, unless you want to spend the rest of the evening in a cage for the dime bag you’ve got in your purses, I suggest you begin your walk home.” I held out the hand that wasn’t gripping Sunny’s. Freshly manicured nails trembled as they set their glittery keychains in my palm. “You can pick these up at the station after signing up for community service. I can promise you the dick is just as accommodating in the jailhouse bathroom.”
Then, behind me—
“Shit. Sorry about that Detective, I didn’t realize what was going—”
I turned to Frank, his eyes wide, broken glass in his hands.
“If you don’t get a better handle on your bar, Frank, I’ll make sure the doors get closed up and you never see this place again.”
Frank’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“Let’s go.” I pulled Sunny away from the bar top and yanked her close to me. If someone—anyone—else laid a finger on her, I was going to lose my shit. More than I had, anyway.
Hand in hand, I led Sunny through the now-silent bar, every pair of bloodshot eyes locked on us. Not a single word was spoken, not a single drop drunk, not a muscle moved as we maneuvered through the tables.
Sunny didn’t jerk away, didn’t try to push me away. Good thing because I didn’t know how I’d react if she did at that moment. The woman knew to shut her mouth, mind me, and leave me the fuck alone.
Good girl.
The whispers started the moment we pushed out the front door and a flash of coherence sobered me up real quick—
I’d just gone to bat for Sunny. Publicly. Nothing else mattered to me the moment I saw her get bullied. Not my friends, not my reputation, not my fucking badge. It was as if a switch had flipped in me, with Sunny’s finger on the trigger.
That was the first time a little warning bell ticked off in my head.
Evil witch or not, Sunny Harper had some sort of spell over me.
And I needed to be careful.
19
Darby
I lifted my beer mug to my lips, hiding half my face as Jagg blew past me with Sunny’s hand in his. I wasn’t sure if he’d seen me, but I was stupid to think he hadn’t. It probably didn’t matter that I’d taken extra care to slip in through the back door and sneak into the corner where, lucky me, a pitcher of beer had been abandoned.
Going to Frank’s Bar had been a gamble, but when Jagg hadn’t left the station until past eight that night, I knew there was only one place he’d go aside from home. The guy loved his evening whiskey. Double. Always neat.
So, I took a shortcut while Jagg had taken the long way, probably hoping to come across a blue, four-door sedan.
I’d rehearsed my speech in the parking lot in case Jagg confronted me, although I’d forgotten it by then. Something about meeting an old friend traveling through town for a beer, who just so happened to be running late. But, turned out, I didn’t need the story after all because Jagg never approached me. Jagg didn’t even look in my direction because he was too busy putting the final nail in his career in the most blatant knight-in-shining-armor way I’d ever seen. I almost took notes, if I’m being honest. Not that I could pull off something as Fabio as that. Hell, I’da probably tripped on the way over to save Sunny. Hopefully right into the Aldridge twin’s chests, who, thanks to Jagg, I learned used the bathrooms at Frank’s Bar for more than just applying lipstick. And by “the bathrooms at Frank’s Bar,” I mean, my new 24/7 hangout.
I watched it all go down while sipping a mug of flat, warm beer that tasted like piss. Jagg had noticed Sunny almost immediately. I watched his shoulders square, his chest puff at the men around her. The man was tunnel-visioned. Hypnotized.
Bewitched.
Jagg had beelined to Sunny. Laser focused on her and nothing else around him. I watched as he went all Incredible Hulk, dismantling two boozed-up cowboys with a lightning quick precision that confirmed it wasn’t his first bar brawl. Difference here, though, was his actions were nothing short of excessive force and something that could get him a misconduct review with his boss—and possibly his badge pulled.
For her.
What the hell was so special about Sunny Harper?
Why her?
Having arrived at Frank’s ahead of Jagg, I was able to observe Sunny for a good ten minutes before her savior showed up. The moment she’d stepped into the bar, heads turned. I thought this was because of her beauty initially, but the stares quickly turned to whispers. I heard a few choice words, including, “killer,” “murderer,” “witch,” “devil worshipper,” and the grand finale of them all, “white-trash bitch.” The last one from the Aldridge twins. Damn those girls were hot.
Sunny didn’t respond, simply stepped up to the bar, asked for the takeout she’d ordered and waited patiently.
Taunting everyone with just her presence.
Then, I’d wa
tched the beguiling Sunny Harper, a wicked enchantress, stand there and let Jagg kick the cowboy’s asses. Let him risk his career for her.
Fuck that.
Fuck that kind of woman.
Don’t get me wrong, the woman was hot. A showstopper, no doubt about that. But in a creepy, Addams Family kind of way. Maybe Jagg had a secret thing for emo. Whatever worked.
I shoved aside the beer that tasted like old man’s piss, pulled out my phone and opened a new text message.
Me: He just left with her.
Lieutenant Colson: Where to?
Me: Not sure.
Lieutenant Colson: Follow them.
Me: Yes, sir.
Lieutenant Colson: Keep me updated and keep your head on a swivel.
A zing of excitement shot through me as I chugged the rest of the beer and jogged out the back door. It was like my own little James Bond movie. I slipped into my truck, turned the engine and waited for the taillights of Jagg’s Jeep.
I was not going to screw this up.
Because, after all, my life was also on the line.
20
Jagg
The front door of Frank’s slapped shut as I pulled Sunny into the parking lot. The bugs roared over the heat waving over my already-boiling skin.
“Jagg. You’re hurting me.” Sunny’s calm voice pulled me from my rage.
I softened my grip on her hand but didn’t let go.
“Where’s your truck?”
“Under the oak tree over there.” She nodded to the far side of building.
“What the hell are you doing parking in the shadows? Don’t you know by now to park under a street light or lamppost? And if there isn’t one, find somewhere else to fucking go.”
Goddamn this woman’s fearlessness.
The woman was me.
I heard the front door open and slam shut behind us, and for a moment, I actually wished someone would come up on me. I needed another fist fight to release the truckload of adrenaline flooding my veins. I looked over my shoulder to see a couple beelining to their Can-am Roadster as if they’d seen a ghost. Damn tourists.
We rounded the building and I stopped cold. Sunny jerked against my hold.
“What?”
“I’m assuming those weren’t there when you got here.”
Her jaw dropped as she followed my gaze where the moonlight illuminated two long, thin scratches running down the entire length of her 1972 Chevy Cheyenne.
“Oh my…” her voice faded in a breathless whisper as she jogged to her truck and ran her finger down the scratches. She kneeled down, examining the damage. “I’ve been here literally ten minutes. Who could’ve… why?”
Sunny had not only been publicly bullied, someone had also keyed her truck.
Oh, hell no.
I pulled the gun from my belt and spun around.
“Stop.” Sunny surged to her feet and grabbed my arm with both hands. I literally dragged her through the dirt.
“Jagger, stop. Please.” She dug her heels in, dropping her weight against my pull. “Stop you idiot, macho-male maniac. Stop!” She dropped my arm—more like flung it down. “Do not go back in there, Jagg. It’s not worth it.”
I stopped, pivoted. “Someone keyed your truck. You’re goddamn right it’s worth it.”
I started to turn but she yanked me back.
“It’s not worth it Jagger. Who cares about my damn truck?” She stood toe to toe with me. “And what are you going to do, anyway? Beat up the entire bar? You think my car will be in one piece after that?”
That gave me pause. Going back in there and cracking skulls in Sunny’s name would only make it worse for her.
She was right.
“Just… calm down, Jagg.”
I stared at the front door of the bar, gun in one hand, Sunny on the other.
Sunny’s focus remained on the side of my face. She took a deep breath, then another, until finally, I found myself releasing an exhale.
“Good. Thank you. Come on.” This time, she pulled me across the parking lot.
Once at her truck, she fisted her hands on her hips. “Well… shit.”
I forced my focus to switch from kicking ass to solving the problem at hand. “A buddy of mine can fix the paint first thing in the morning.”
“I don’t need you to handle it.”
“I know.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her with me. “Let’s go.”
She jerked her hand back. We squared off like two sumo wrestlers, right there under the fluorescent lights of Frank’s.
“Where?”
“I’m driving you home. I’ll have my buddy come get the truck.”
“What? No.”
“Dammit, Sunny.” I dropped her hand and began pacing, stalking back and forth like a madman, flexing and unflexing my fists with each step.
Sunny stood motionless, watching me like someone might a recoiling snake. Her hair danced around her face in the breeze, strands of ebony against her lips. God those lips.
I planted my feet and turned to her. “What the hell are you doing here, anyway?” I demanded.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but getting dinner. I don’t cook.” She squinted. “Why are you here?”
“I come here all the time. The stool at the end of the bar is molded to my ass. I can handle my shit here.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means a beautiful woman with a target on her back should have better judgment than to swing by a dive-bar on the way home. Especially alone.”
“I’ll have you know I’ve been here dozens of times since I moved here.”
“Trolling for men?”
“Fuck you.”
My hands fisted at my side.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” she continued. “And you think a single woman can’t handle her shit?”
“Based on what I was looking at when I walked in, no, I don’t think you were handling your shit.”
“What would you have had me do? Bust a bottle over the redneck’s head? Break those pretty little blonde’s noses? Put a damn spell on the place?” Her voice cracked with the last one, and of all the insults that had been hurled in her direction, that one apparently stung the worst.
“Listen, Sunny. This is a small town, with all the small-town clichés, right in the middle of the Bible Belt. When a pastor’s son’s face gets blown off in the city park, people are going to talk. They’re going to want answers. And I get that, Sunny.” I shot her a look. “My entire job is to get answers. The entire town is already looking at you. Questioning you, your every move. And when your stubborn ass saunters into the one bar frequented only by locals, you’re asking for it. Whether you like it or not, people are blaming you.”
Heat flared behind those green eyes. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Exactly. That’s my point. You know that, so why did you come here? You need to lay low until this thing blows over.”
“If you’re so desperate for this thing to blow over, why don’t you and the Lieutenant tell everyone I shot Griggs in self-defense and move on? Close the case?”
“Did you kill Griggs, Sunny?”
“No. I’ve told you a hundred—”
“Then someone else did and I’m not going to let you roll over for this. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I did that. Your attack wasn’t random. And I know you believe that, too, which is why you shouldn’t have gone to Frank’s tonight.”
“I was hungry. There wasn’t much more thought to it than that.”
“Then, regardless, you should have walked out when they started chastising you. I guarantee you someone would have eaten the three pieces of lettuce you ordered.”
She glared at me.
“I’m not doing this with you anymore, Sunny. I’m not arguing like a fucking child and I’m sure as hell not going to put up with your arrogant, fearless, defiant behavior.”
“Who asked you to put up with me? Who asked you to even help me?”<
br />
“Cut the bullshit, Sunny. You need to drop that damn armor you wear.”
“Fine. I’ll drop it right here.” She spun on her heels and stalked away from me.
Hell. No.
I grabbed her elbow, spun her around.
“You walk away from me again and I will hog tie you, throw you over my shoulder and carry your ass home.”
Her nostrils flared as she stood strong against my hold, staring me down as I was her.
God, I was frustrated. Beyond normal, anyway.
I dropped her arm. “Jesus, Sunny, you claim to be an expert at Krav Maga, right? You should have walked the heck away. Diffused the situation.”
“Really? That’s what you would have preferred I’d done, huh? Run from the bastards? Let them win?”
“Yes.”
She slammed her fists on her hips. “Is that what you would tell your son or your daughter? To tuck tail and run no matter what the situation?”
I opened my mouth to respond but no words came out. I pictured the junior high autistic boy getting beat up by the governor’s son. On his back, but still fighting. I respected him. Truth was, standing up for yourself and others was something I built my life on. I never backed down. Not once. Even when I was the tall, skinny kid being bullied in junior high, I fought back.
And had plenty of broken bones to show it.
Sunny was the same damn way. She didn’t back down either. Against all odds, despite her past, despite getting the shit kicked out of her at the park.
I respected the hell out of her for it.
“Exactly,” she said, reading my thoughts. “I’m done here. Do you mind if I turn my back and walk away from you now, Detective Jagger?” The sarcasm seethed from her lips.
She turned on her heel and stomped to her truck.
I followed Sunny home that night. Without her knowledge, of course. Someone had to watch out for the woman. I’d waited until she was safe inside her cabin to reverse down the road and begin tackling the evening’s to-do list.
Jagger (Steele Shadows Investigations) Page 16
