by Louise, Tia
The thought of never touching her again, holding her, burying my face in her hair… It’s the definition of hell.
I push off the floor, pacing the small square room and breathing hard. I’m about to start throwing things when a buzz at the door, cuts me off. Turning to face the sound, I see a masked guard approaching.
“You’ve got a visitor.” He stands outside the door waiting, and I check the clock.
Is it possible Scout got here that fast? Is it Hope? Looking down at the heavy, light blue shirt I’m wearing, I wince.
It’s the same thing I was wearing the first day we met. The same shirt she slipped over her naked body in the motel room that night. I’ll never forget her standing in the shaft of light from the bathroom like an old-school centerfold.
Even if she knows it’s wrong and I shouldn’t be here, I hate for her to see me this way.
The guard motions for me to go into a glass-windowed room, again, saying it’s for safety.
“My brother, the jailbird.” Scout’s voice greets me from the other side of the glass. He’s grinning, but I don’t smile.
“You made good time.” My voice is flat. “Did you find the phone?”
“Hope did.” His smile fades, and he shakes his head. “She said the guy at the repair shop was pretty grim.”
My chin drops as the wave of anger surges through me. “So that’s it.”
“Nope.” His voice is sharp, determined. “New plan. You’re going to tell me where I can find Clyde Shaw, and I’m going to get his confession myself.”
Our eyes meet, and I’m conflicted. “I can’t let you do that. If you got in trouble—”
“The way I see it, you don’t have much choice. I came here to help you. You’ve got a little boy praying his daddy will come home every night.”
My throat aches, and I can’t escape how much that hurts. “I don’t want to let him down.”
Scout steps closer to the glass. “So tell me where that asshole is hiding.”
That makes me laugh. “He’s not hiding. At least he wasn’t. He’s right out in plain sight living over the Ritual Roasters at Buena Vista Park.”
“That’s all I needed.”
Looking up at him, I’m not sure what to say. “How did it come to this? I tried to look out for us. I wanted to be a good dad—”
“You’re the best dad. You got hit hard, but you’ve thrown me the ball, and I always catch it. I always run it in for the win.” He puts the side of his fist on the glass. “I won’t let you down this time.”
“You’ve never let me down.” I put my fist up across from his.
“Not even when I was Rammin’ Rod?” His eyes twinkle, and I just shake my head.
“Don’t get arrested. Can’t have you in prison with that reputation. I’ll never get any sleep.”
“I won’t.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down. “Hope’s here. She wants to see you.”
Shame flashes in my chest. “I don’t want her to see me like this.”
“Like what? You look like you did all the way to Charleston. Except for when you shaved your beard.”
Reaching up, I scrub my fingers through my stubble. “I guess you’re right.”
“She’s the one. I’m telling you. Marry her.”
“I’m not tying her down to a jailbird. Fuck that.”
“When I spring your ass out of here, the first thing you’re going to do to repay me is propose to her.”
“I can’t propose to a girl I’ve only known five weeks.”
“You proposed to a girl you knew five years. How did that work out?”
My jaw tightens, and I turn away from the glass. “I still can’t believe Becky did this.”
Scout’s quiet a minute, and when I look back, he’s mad. “You think Becky turned you in?”
“When I told her I wanted Jesse full-time, she threatened to call the parole board.”
His blue eyes flash, and he steps back from the window. “I’ve got a call to make. I’m sending Hope in now.” He pauses at the door. “You look at her and tell me if you don’t see your future there.”
“I can’t see a future there until I don’t see a future here.”
“Your days in this shit hole are numbered. Next time I see you, I’m coming with a lawyer.”
He strides out of the anteroom, and I hesitate. I’m not sure if she’ll enter immediately, or…
“JR?” Her soft voice hits me right in the chest.
“Hope?” I step forward, putting both hands on the glass.
She’s rushes to it, putting her palms flat against mine. Still, this fucking barrier is between us. Tears are in her eyes, and it causes my chest to ache.
“I’m sorry, Hope.”
“No!” She shakes her head. “It’s not your fault. We’re going to fix this. Scout’s here, and he’s determined—”
“Listen to me.” I pause, letting my eyes drink in her face, her bright blue eyes. The waves of pale blonde hair that fall around her temples. She looks just like her name. I can’t get over it. “I know my brother is determined. I don’t know what he’s going to find or how it’ll go—”
“We’re going to find that guy, and we’re going to get you out of here.”
“Maybe. I hope so.” God, can I say these words? “Just in case that doesn’t happen, I want you to keep going with your pancake dream. Go to Monterey, take that guy’s money, and start your restaurant. Don’t wait for me.”
“I have to wait for you. I’m not giving up on any part of my dream.”
Our hands are on the glass, and her eyes are so warm. This girl.
“I want to kiss you.”
She smiles, and her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. It matches her fuzzy pink sweater. My arms ache to hold her.
“When we come back.” She moves her forehead close to the glass. I do the same. “I’ll be waiting for my kiss.”
“I won’t make you wait.”
Her blue eyes meet mine, and that fist releases in my chest. It happens every time. Maybe my idiot little brother is right. This girl is my future.
Hope
“She said she didn’t do it.” Scout is in the passenger’s seat looking at his phone.
“Who?” My brow furrows.
We crashed last night at the beach shack after he arrived then went straight to the prison this morning to visit JR and get the location of Clyde Shaw. We’re in a good position to find him and get this done today. I’m just waiting to hear from the phone repair guy as a backup.
And praying.
“JR thinks Becky called the parole board and turned him in.”
My jaw drops. “That bitch!”
“Yeah, she’s a bitch all right, but when I called Dad, she swore to him she didn’t do it.”
I’m fuming driving the car. I want to fly all the way to Charleston and slap that woman right across her stuck up, bitch-assed face. “Do you believe her?”
“I don’t know. I mean, Becky’s a gold-digging whore, who it seems was always in love with our dad, which is weird and gross, but I mean, I guess he’s a good-looking man…?”
As much as I hate to admit it, their dad is a very good-looking man—for someone as old as my father. His sons look just like him.
“It just doesn’t make sense.” He continues. “Dad doesn’t want to have Jesse full time. Gran’s got him at her house. Why would Becky do it?”
Guilt weighs in my chest. “Do you think it was because of me?”
Scout glances over at me and squints. “You’re pretty damn cute, but eh.” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t feel right.”
It doesn’t matter, because we’re at the park. Steering Metallicar to a spot behind a bush, I parallel park, and we mask up and get out.
“How do you want to do this?” I look down at my fuzzy pink sweater and white leggings. “I didn’t really dress for beating a confession out of anyone.”
“Just leave it to me.” Scout strides across the four-lane highwa
y like he owns the place.
I think he might be reenacting a part in a movie, but I take off after him. All I care about is getting JR out of prison and figuring out what comes next.
The coffee shop smells delicious as we walk through the door. It smells so good, I almost need to take a seat.
“I’m not sure I could live over a coffee shop,” I whisper. “I’d stay broke.”
Scout holds up a hand and looks around the space. It’s all pale wood and very open and empty. In the center is a stark, black granite station where it looks like they take orders and roast and prepare the coffee.
He turns to speak right in my ear. “You must not be able to access the apartments from here.”
“What are we going to do?” I look over his shoulder at the barista watching us. “We’ve been spotted.”
Stepping back, he grins, and I swear a twinkle flashes in his eye. “Hey, there… Betsy.” He reads her name tag. “I was looking for a guy… Clyde Shaw. I think he lives around here?”
Betsy blinks several times, and I think she might have forgotten how to talk. Scout does have the power to strike women dumb.
Stepping up beside him, I smile. “Betsy?”
She finally tears her eyes away from my handsome friend to look at me. “Sorry!” She shakes her head like she just woke up from a daze. “Welcome to Royal Roasters. Would you like to try the Buena Vista special?”
“Actually, we’re looking for a guy… Clyde Shaw? I think he lives around here.”
“Oh! Clyde’s right upstairs…” She inhales sharply, almost like she just remembered something.
Twenty dollars and I’ll tell you what.
“Thanks.” I grab Scout’s arm, and we head out of the shop, running first left then right along the sidewalk until we see the entrance to an apartment overhead.
“Hurry,” I hiss, as we press all four of the buzzer buttons until one of them goes off, releasing the front door.
Falling inside, we catch our breaths. Scout grips my upper arms. “You stay here. I don’t know what might happen when we go in there.”
“No way.” My eyes flash. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”
I know what Scout plans to do, and I want to be able to bash Clyde Shaw over the head should things go wrong.
“If anything happened to you, JR would kill me.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me. Or you.”
We find the apartment number and charge up the stairs. I’m right behind him when we get to the landing, and he bangs on the door.
We back up to wait, and my heart is beating so fast, I’m not sure I can breathe. I want to hold out my hand and say wait a minute, but it’s too late.
The door jerks open, and everything stops. A guy dressed in jeans and a beige oxford shirt stands in the doorway. He has a light brown afro and short beard, and he looks like Bob Ross. I half expect him to smile and say it was all a happy accident.
Instead he blinks several times then does break into a smile. I’m completely confused until he speaks.
“Oh my God.” He takes a step back, putting his hand on his chest, seeming star struck. “Are you… Are you… Rod?”
My hand flies to my mask to cover my laugh. I pass it off as a sneeze.
Scout’s entire demeanor changes as he stands beside me. The fight disappears, and he grins. “Sorry, I’ll just put this on…”
He lowers his chin and shakes his hair as he loops the mask over his ears, giving Clyde a little wink. “I see you’ve heard of me.”
“Yes.” Clyde looks like he might faint. “I mean, I’ve seen of you.”
He starts to laugh like a hyena, and my nose wrinkles. Ew.
Scout doesn’t react. He waits, putting a hand on his hip. A few seconds tick past, and suddenly Clyde seems to snap out of it.
“Would you like to come in? I don’t know to what I owe the pleasure…”
“Well, I’ll tell you, Mr. Shaw.” Scout casually swaggers into the apartment. “Or can I call you Clyde?”
“By all means, call me Clyde.”
I close the door and stand back, unsure what’s about to happen.
“My assistant and I are here because I’m in need of supplements… if you know what I mean.”
“Of course. I can get you anything you need—Acapulco Gold, Blue Dream…” He goes to the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets. “Do you need to be calm or energized?”
Scout gives me a glance, slipping his hand into his pocket. I know he’s turning on his voice recorder, and I dig around in my bag for my phone. Clyde is completely ignoring me, and I plan to make the most of it.
“No, Clyde. I need something for my physique.”
Clyde turns to him and pops an eyebrow. “Last I checked, your physique’s doing just fine, Rod.” He chuckles, and I force my face to remain neutral.
Scout walks to the guy, getting just close enough to make me squirmy. “I want to bulk up. I heard you’re the guy to help me.”
“I’m glad to help you… Did you have something particular in mind?”
“HGH. Growth hormone.”
Scout’s gaze levels, but Clyde’s chin pulls back.
He seems to lose all his swoon, and instantly he’s on alert. “Who told you that?”
My heart beats faster, and I’m not sure what to do.
Scout grins, holding out a hand. “Hey, now. Take it easy. Who told me isn’t as important as can you get it?”
He’s quiet, looking from me to Scout. I’m convinced it’s over. We’re going to have to return to Plan A, beating it out of him, and I have no idea if that means we’ll end up in jail or on the news… More like TMZ, Rammin’ Rod Attacks Bob Ross.
“I just like to be careful.” Clyde’s shoulders relax. “I don’t have that on hand.”
“My bad. I was told you could get it for me… You know a guy named Ritchie? Ritchie Deemers out of Charleston?”
Again, Clyde tenses up, and I might have to step into the hall so I don’t blow our cover. My heart is in my throat.
“Deemers?” Clyde’s brow lowers. “It’s been a while. Funny you’re the second guy this week to mention him.”
“What are the chances of that?” Scout laughs, shaking his head. “There’s just no accounting for this year, is there?”
“No, there isn’t.” Clyde isn’t smiling, he’s studying us, and I could never be an actress. I’m totally panicking.
“Just between us…” Scout walks to the bar so casually, like it’s all business as usual and our cover isn’t teetering on the brink of being blown. “I’m working on a screenplay, sort of a second career type of thing, and I wanted to do something similar to The Mule—you know, that Clint Eastwood film? I thought maybe you could be my consultant. Have you ever been to LA?”
That changes Clyde’s tone. “A Hollywood movie?”
“Yeah, Bigelow has indicated interest. Shia LaBeouf is attached. Maybe he’d play you…”
“I thought he was out of the game.”
“Nobody’s ever out of the game, my friend. Deemers said you’d used a mule before. How does that work?”
Clyde only hesitates a moment. “One of two ways. Either we can add additional packets to a regular order or in the case of Deemer’s, his entire order was HGH.”
“That so?” Scout makes a face like he’s taking mental notes. “And it worked?”
“It would’ve. The asshole got caught.”
I’m definitely going to have to step into the hall. I’m ready to beat him for saying that, and I don’t even care if we get a confession.
Scout watches me, and fury must be shooting from my eyeballs like lightning bolts. He comes to me and puts a hand on my forearm. I glance up at him, and his expression says calm down.
He waits a beat, then asks, “What was the mule’s name?”
“What difference does it make? He’s in jail.” Clyde laughs. “Actually, he got out and came here threatening me. One call, and I had him back behind bars.”
I’m about to scream at him, but Scout’s grip on my arm tightens. I try to jerk it away. I’m ready to jump on Clyde’s back and start hitting him over the head with my shoe. Then maybe I’ll cram it in his smug, smiling mouth.
“I’m just curious.” Scout’s voice is as tight as his grip. “Maybe I could interview him. Get his side of the story, add a little heartbreak.”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel comfortable—”
“You said he’s behind bars.” Scout is facing me, and his eyes close. “If you’re going to be my consultant, you have to trust me.”
I’m holding my breath. Could Clyde be that stupid? Could his lust for fame cause him to confess? I start to pray, Be that stupid… Be that stupid…
The apartment is quiet, and I think I’m going to be sick.
Clyde walks to the bar and picks up his phone. “Let me see. It was initials… JT or JD…” My lips part, and my eyes lock with Scout’s. This is it… “Here it is. William Dunne.”
My shoulders drop, and I silently swear.
Scout exhales a chuckle, releasing my arm and turning back to Clyde. “Is it JT or William?”
Clyde looks at him, and his eyes dazzle. I can only thank our lucky stars Scout is such a hot gay porn star. “William was the contact. It was his son, who made the pickup.”
“Poor guy.” Scout leans on the bar. “I’ve got to go, but maybe I’ll drop by again.”
“If I’m not here, leave your number with one of the baristas.” Clyde’s rat face looks suspicious, and I’m afraid he’s onto us.
“I’ll do it.” Scout’s hand is on my arm, and he leads me to the door. He does a finger-gun. “Thanks for being a fan.”
“Thank you for sharing your… endowments.”
Turning to the door, I roll my eyes so hard, I’m surprised they don’t get stuck. We’re out in the hall, and I’m stomping all around pissed. Scout taps his phone, turning off the recording, and grabs my wrist, dragging me down the stairs behind him and out onto the sidewalk.
“Holy shit!” He puts both hands on his forehead and exhales deeply.
“Motherfucker!” I shout, pacing a small circle. “Did we get it? Is that enough to nail his ass? I want his ass nailed!”
He throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls him to me, laughing. “You are something else, you know it? For a minute, I thought I’d have to pull you off that guy.”
