Landon (In Safe Hands Book 1)

by S. M. Shade

  A few pale stars glow overhead as I jog along, lost in my thoughts. I can’t wait to get out of here, to move to a more rural area. I’m no country boy or farmer, but I’d like to see the stars at night, smell grass and trees instead of the exhaust being belched out of trucks, or garbage piled by the street.

  I have the funds to go anywhere I want. More than I could ever spend in a lifetime, but I don’t think that truth has sunk in yet. I’ve always had enough to survive. My parents had generous life insurance policies that paid off when I lost them in a car crash six years ago, but nothing compared to what my uncle Larry left me, the only remaining member of the Clark family.

  I could’ve let the house go and bought a new one somewhere, but it seemed wrong somehow. When Dare mentioned needing a more permanent place to set up our organization, everything just fell into place. Hiring Zoe is just the first step. Once it’s reasonably clean and organized, it’ll become our headquarters. A nice house in an upper class neighborhood that won’t draw any unwanted attention. I have no close neighbors to question why I only come and go at night, and why most of my company does the same.

  A patrol cop nods at me as I jog past. He recognizes me now, but the first few times I ran by him in the middle of the night, he regarded me with suspicion. Finally, he just stopped me and asked what the hell I was doing. My explanation of being an insomniac and training for a marathon placated him and now he just waves or nods when I fly by.

  That’s another reason I look forward to living in the country. The privacy. No suspicious faces or distrustful stares. You’d think being a night owl was a crime. Maybe it’s the sudden cultural influx of vampire crap. There are actually people who believe in that shit, like I’m going to bite them and drink their blood. Gross. I want to yell, “Nothing supernatural here, you morons. Just a guy who sleeps days.”

  The run does the trick, and after a hot shower, I’m able to get some work done on the computer. A little after seven a.m. I shuffle off to bed, stiff from sitting still the last few hours. Zoe’s pale eyes and mischievous smile flash through my head, and I quickly try to picture something else. Anything else. She has enough to deal with without me adding to her problems. Besides, I want her to work here more than ever now that I know how much she needs the money.

  For some reason, Zoe is the first thing I think of when I wake. Well, actually, I’m thinking of my uncle’s old truck that’s parked in the attached garage. It’s just rotting in there. Why not loan it to her until she gets her car out of the shop?

  The garage is a dusty mess. I’ve only been in here once since I moved in. One half is piled with boxes and junk, while my uncle’s truck takes up the other half. Unlike most men with his type of wealth, he didn’t give two shits about the car he drove. His ten year old pickup did him just fine, and I’m sure it will work for Zoe for a few days once I give it a little tune up.

  She’s due here in an hour, so I whip off the tarp covering the truck and get started. The battery is flat as a pancake, but I have a portable charger. While that’s running, I clean up the inside, vacuuming up the ashes and loose tobacco sprinkled across the seat and floorboards. A little pine scented cleanser makes it smell a whole lot better.

  I barely hear Zoe knock on the door. Damn, it’s been an hour already? “You don’t have to knock. The door will be unlocked,” I tell her as I let her in.

  “Okay.”

  “Did you get your car out of the shop?”

  She shakes her head, her ponytail swishing from side to side. “It’ll be a few days, but that doesn’t mean you need to drive me home. A cab is fine.” There’s no point in arguing with her now. “Would you still like me to start in the kitchen?”

  “Please. And I’ll be in the garage if you need anything.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she calls, already headed to the kitchen. Damn, do I stink? She couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

  The next time I look up from working on the truck, the sun has set, and I open the garage door, letting in a rush of fresh night air. With the truck windows down, it should air out nicely. Now, if only it’ll start. It fires right up and manages to make it just outside the garage door before dying again. Damn it.

  A quick look under the hood and I know I need to make a trip to the automotive store. Zoe peeks up at me when I poke my head into the kitchen. Fuck me, she’s on her knees. Her red lips part as she gazes up at me, and every word I was about to speak flies out of my head.

  “Landon? You need something?”

  Oh, fuck do I, but nothing I can accept from her. “I’m heading out for a bit to run a few errands.”

  “No problem.” She turns back to scrubbing the fridge. An assortment of groceries are stacked around the kitchen. “By the way, most of your food is expired. Like, die if you eat it expired.”

  “Throw it out. I’ll restock later.”

  “Will do.”

  Her shirt rises as she reaches toward the back of the fridge, baring a small strip of skin on her lower back. What I’d give to lick it. I have to get out of here.

  Luckily, the auto store has a fuel filter that’ll fit and the right spark plugs. It’s after eight when I’m on my way home and I wonder if Zoe’s had dinner yet. I have no idea what she likes to eat, but pizza seems like a safe bet. Who doesn’t like pizza? A few minutes later, I walk through the door with two pizzas and a two liter of Dr. Pepper.

  Zoe is scrubbing out a cabinet, and she pauses when I enter, watching me place the food on the table. “You should get some liners for your cabinets, or contact paper. It’d be easier to keep them clean.”

  “Sure thing.” What the hell is contact paper? I’ll just have her get the supplies she needs before coming to work tomorrow.

  “Take a break and let’s eat. Do you like pizza?”

  A grin curls her lips. “Sounds better than peanut butter. Give me a minute to wash up. Can I use your bathroom?”

  “You don’t have to ask. Use whatever you need when you’re here.” I pull a pack of paper plates from the cabinet and dish up our pizza. Zoe returns and grabs two glasses, filling them with ice before handing them to me to pour the soda. It’s all disturbingly domestic.

  We eat in silence, with an occasional glance across the table, until I can’t take it anymore. “Good?”

  “Yep. I love pizza. Don’t think I’ll ever outgrow it.”

  “You shouldn’t. It’s one of the four food groups.”

  Giggling, she shakes her head. “I’m afraid to ask what the others are.”

  “Bacon, Donuts, and Beer.”

  “Of course.”

  She’s in a good mood tonight, not so guarded or suspicious around me, so I risk a question. “Who’s the boy at your apartment?”

  “My brother, Ethan.”

  “Do you live with your parents?”

  Her face hardens. “No, it’s just us.”

  “Sorry. I lost my parents too. Car crash.”

  Sympathy fills her eyes. “I’m sorry. Was it long ago?”

  “Six years. How long has it been for you?”

  She averts her eyes as she replies, “We haven’t seen them in almost two years.”

  They haven’t seen them? They aren’t dead, just estranged. I want to ask a thousand questions, the first of which is how she ended up raising her brother, but the look on her face stops me. She doesn’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to upset her.

  “So, what the hell is contact paper?” I ask, changing the subject. Musical laughter fills the room, and the sound soothes something deep inside me.

  After dinner, she goes back to work, and I change the fuel filter and spark plugs on the truck. About a half hour before she’s supposed to leave, I finally get it running smoothly. Now, I have to talk her into taking it home. Since she’s loath to even accept a ride from me, this should be a challenge.

  “Are you insane? I’m not taking your truck. You barely know me. What if I crash it?”

  “Then I’ll get it fixed.” I shrug. She
opens her mouth to protest again, and I interrupt her. “Look, it’s not just for your benefit. Running errands is part of your job, and I need you to go to the grocery store tomorrow. And to get some of that contact paper…and whatever else I need for the kitchen, but won’t recognize because I don’t have a vagina.”

  With a reluctant smile, she shakes her head. “Well, that was only mildly sexist and offensive.”

  “Please, just don’t bring back anything pink.”

  “Fine,” she relents with a sigh. “Make me a list for the grocery store. I’ll take the truck for tonight, but that’s it.”

  “Are you always so stubborn?”

  “Yep. You’ve been warned.”

  * * * *

  Warned. I keep trying to warn myself. Remind myself that I can’t fuck a woman that will be at my house every day. And there’s no way I’m going to let her quit this job she needs so much because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants. I need to spend less time around her. Fortunately, Dare calls the next afternoon and asks me to go to the bar with him and the guys. Perfect.

  Zoe struggles through the door with an armload of bags, spreading them out on the counter. I catch the dirty look she throws when I don’t go outside to assist her, and I do my best to ignore it. “This is contact paper,” she says, tossing me a roll of tan colored paper. “I’ll line the cabinets with it tonight.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be leaving this evening for the night. If you get done with the kitchen, please dust and sweep the living room.”

  “Okay.”

  I drop a key on the counter. “Lock up when you leave and take the truck home tonight.”

  “I appreciate the gesture, but I have a friend picking me up.”

  She is not a good liar. “At midnight?”

  “You aren’t the only night owl in the city, you know.” Fine. Let her take the damn cab. I shouldn’t care anyway.

  “Suit yourself. I’ll leave you to it.”

  I don’t know why it annoys the shit out of me that she won’t let me help her, but it does. It shows me again that I’m spending too much time with her. A night out is exactly what I need. A few drinks, a game or two of pool, and a hot woman to fuck away my stress.

  Dare and Jeremy meet me at a bar near Dare’s apartment. It’s a decent place with a large room full of pool tables in the back. A cute waitress brings us all a beer and a shot while Jeremy racks up for the first game.

  “Who’s getting his ass kicked first?” Jeremy taunts.

  “I’ve got first,” Dare replies, grabbing a cue. “Justus will be here in a few and you can teach him a lesson,” he says to me.

  “As long as he doesn’t show up in his little stripper clothes.”

  Dare laughs. “I think he’s off tonight. So, how are things going with that sexy little maid of yours? You fuck her yet?”

  “You’re fucking your maid?” Jeremy asks as the waitress returns with our drinks.

  “No, assholes. I haven’t touched her, and I’m not going to. And neither are you,” I tell Dare as a smile spreads across his face. The waitress laughs and bats her eyes at me. She’s a cute little thing. Petite with big brown eyes. Turning to her, I give her a crooked smile. “What’s your name, baby?”

  “Trisha,” she giggles.

  “Well, tell these two that sleeping with an employee is a huge mistake.”

  “Probably not a good idea,” she agrees, laying a hand on my arm.

  “Good thing you don’t work for me. What time do you get off tonight?”

  “Depends on how good you are, doesn’t it?”

  And it’s just that easy. Or she is. “I’m way beyond good, lady.”

  “I’m off at eleven-thirty.”

  “I’ll be here.” She smiles from ear to ear and sashays off, swinging her hips.

  “Well, that took all of five minutes,” Justus laughs. I hadn’t even noticed him approach behind me.

  “And I didn’t even have to strip and shake my ass.”

  “You’re just jealous that women pay to touch me.”

  “Just rack them up, Magic Mike.”

  We spend the next few hours playing pool, drinking, and fucking around. Trisha comes by every chance she gets to flirt and rub against me until the clock finally reaches half past eleven. “Your place?” she suggests.

  “Sure, you drive. I’ve had a few.”

  “No problem.”

  Chapter Three

  Zoe

  Relief floods through me when Landon leaves for the night. I shouldn’t feel that way. He’s been so nice to me, loaning me the truck and everything, but I see how he looks at me. Why does he have to be so damn gorgeous? Any other man, I could put in his place, but when he smiles that crooked smile, I feel like a horny sixteen year old with a crush.

  I need this job and there’s no way I’m going to screw it up by sleeping with him. Judging by the way he came onto me in the bar when we first met, he’s not a stranger to one night stands. Even if I could work with him after a nice sweaty naked hug, he would find a reason to get rid of me. So there you have it. No sex with the ocean-eyed man slut.

  The night passes quickly as I finish cleaning his kitchen and move on to the living room. It’s not too bad, mostly just dusty, as he said. By the time I’ve wiped down all the surfaces and vacuumed the carpet, it’s time to go.

  I know he saw through my lie earlier. There’s no friend picking me up, but I can’t keep relying on him for transportation, and there’s no reason I can’t catch a cab. Twenty minutes after I call, the taxi pulls up out front and I lock the door behind me, tucking the house key in my pocket.

  After a day at school and work, I’m dead on my feet. I can’t wait to take a long hot shower and wash away the dust and grime. That is until I see the note Ethan left me on the bathroom mirror.

  Hot water’s out. Called maintenance. Said they’ll get to it.

  Crumpling the note in my hand, I utter a few choice words about our landlords. We need a new water heater. This is the third time we’ve had to call them and they aren’t quick to get to it. The giant kettle we use to heat water is sitting on the stove and a lump rises in my throat. Ethan is just a kid. He shouldn’t have to live like this. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to get ahead, to get us out of this hellhole.

  After filling up the kettle, I fire up the burner and wait. Ethan’s door is open a crack, so I peek in to see him sprawled in bed, playing on his phone. “It’s late. You should be asleep.”

  “I don’t have to work tomorrow. I just plan on playing video games with the guys.”

  “Have fun. I know I haven’t been around much lately. Is everything okay? Do you need anything?”

  “Nope, I’m good. And I don’t need my sister following me around and killing my game,” he teases.

  “Alright then, pimp daddy. I’ll let you go to sleep.”

  “Never call me that again,” he laughs.

  “I won’t. Only when your friends are here.”

  He throws a pillow, and it smacks the door as I tug it closed. He’s such a good kid. It kills me that I can’t give him the things he deserves. Like parents who love him.

  He knew when he was twelve that he was gay, and I’m the only person he told. Unfortunately, just after his fifteenth birthday, my mother searched his phone and found text messages he sent to a boy he liked. It wasn’t anything dirty or explicit, but it didn’t matter. They gave him the choice of going to a conversion therapy camp where they try to torture the gay away, or leaving. I picked him up and he’s been with me ever since.

  Washing my hair in cold water in the sink is miserable, but it beats shivering through an icy shower. Toting my shampoo in the kitchen, I wash my hair as fast as humanly possible. Still shivering, I drag the kettle of warm water into the bathroom, strip down and stand in the tub. If I wanted to take the time, I could’ve waited for a few kettles to boil and had enough for a bath, but I’m exhausted. A quick scrub down will have to do.

  Finally, I’m dressed in
my pajamas and curled up on the couch. One more day of work, and I can veg out all weekend. A pile of mail awaits me on the coffee table, but I don’t want to open it. It’s never good news, only bills and more bills. An envelope from Ethan’s school catches my attention and I rip it open.

  He goes back in a week or so and I need to remember to take him to get some school clothes and supplies. In the envelope is a signup sheet for a driver’s education class. One semester for three hundred dollars. I know how bad he wants to get his license, and I also know he’ll never ask, knowing how tight our money is. Maybe I can come up with it by the second semester.

  Exhausted mentally and physically, I drag myself to bed, grateful I don’t have any classes tomorrow. I can sleep in for a change.

  The sound of banging from the hallway wakes me a little after nine. “I let maintenance in,” Ethan says, popping his head into my room. “And there are donuts on the kitchen table.”

  “You realize I’m supposed to be the adult here, right?”

  “Relax, you get to go to work while I lie around, play games and eat chips. You’re the adult today.”

  “Good to know.” I drag myself out of bed. “Hey!” I call as he retreats. “Save some time for me tomorrow. We’ll hit the mall and get you some school supplies.”

  “I have to be seen in public with you?”

  “If you want new shit.”

  “Tough choice, but I guess I can suffer through.” He flashes me a smile. “Thanks.”

  My morning is spent straightening up the apartment and making a tuna casserole for Ethan’s dinner. I’m just popping it in the fridge when Frannie calls and invites me to lunch. Rowdy cries erupt from Ethan’s room where he and his friends are glued to the game.

  “Hell, yes. Come and get me,” I tell her.

  “How did you get off work so early?” I ask as we take a seat at our favorite Italian place. Frannie works as a receptionist in Indy’s hottest tattoo parlor.

  “It’s slow today, so Finn told me to go. Tomorrow and Sunday are booked up, so I’ll more than make up for it. What’s up with you, girl? Haven’t heard from you in a few days. Did you get that cleaning job?”