The Other Half (Door Peninsula Passions Book 1)

by Katherine Hastings

  “Oh, shit,” Aaron mumbled when he saw Matt in the doorway, and he moved in front of me. “Jake. Dude. Jake, look at me.”

  I couldn’t look at him. When my gaze locked with Matt’s, red swirled before my eyes. I didn’t care that I saw remorse mirrored back at me. I didn’t care that he’d tried to call and apologize a hundred times. To care, I’d have to give two shits. This was the first time I’d seen him since it happened and the emotions I’d felt back when I found out flooded back into every cell with the force of a hurricane. Before Aaron could get ahold of my shirt, I flew across the room.

  “Jake!” I heard Jo shout, but it didn’t slow my charge.

  “Jake, I’m sorry. Jake!” Matt said just before I collided with him. We tumbled onto chairs by the window and landed on Captain Bailey, the stuffed mannequin taking up the middle one. Patrons launched out of the way as I let my rage rip out of me. My fist connected with his face three times before I felt someone stop my arm from making it four. Hands gripped me, and I struggled against them until too many arms wrapped around me and dragged me off him.

  “Jake! Stop!” Jo yelled, though it was hard to hear her with the ringing in my ears. “Get him out of here!”

  “Jake, come on!” Aaron was part of the group of men wrangling me to the door. I gave up my fight against them, but my glare found its way back to Matt’s bloodied face once more before they got me outside onto the sidewalk.

  “I’m fine!” I shouted, shrugging off the hands still pushing me along. With rage still radiating off me, I stormed away. As I reached the Beachfront Inn across the street, I spun back around, my gaze fixated on the Blue Ox while I contemplated racing back inside to finish what I’d started. If looks could kill that building would be enveloped in flames, a fiery inferno that still wouldn’t compare to the fury inside me.

  “Jake, Jake, JAKE!” Aaron clapped his hands in front of me to get me to refocus. “Dude! Calm down!”

  Deep, quick breaths lifted my shoulders while I huffed, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through me. When he grabbed my shoulder, I shoved it off and practically snarled.

  “Whoa. Jake. Come on, man. What the fuck? This isn’t you.”

  “He had it coming,” I growled.

  “I know he did. And I feel for you, I do. But you can’t just launch across the bar and kick his ass every time you see him. He’s a douche, but he’s allowed to live.”

  “It was the first time I saw him. He had it coming.” How we’d made it this many months in a small town without running into each other was a wonder, but from what I’d heard he’d been avoiding me like the plague. Which was probably a good thing since I still wanted to kick his ass months later. If I’d seen him right after it happened, I’d probably have killed him.

  “Okay. You saw him. You kicked his ass. Now it’s time to move on, man. I’m worried about you. We’re all worried about you.”

  “I’m fine.” The adrenaline subsided, and my hand throbbed from the punches.

  “You’re not fine. I mean, you’ve always been a broody son of a bitch, but you’re downright depressed. And I get it. I do. But it’s time to get on with your life, Jake. And you both live here. You’re going to run into him. You can’t beat the shit out of him every time you see him or I’m going to be bailing you out of jail. Okay?”

  He was right, and I knew it, but I just stared back at the bar that housed Matt inside.

  “Okay?” he asked again.

  “Okay,” I finally answered.

  “No more kicking the shit out of Matt. No more moping. Deal.”

  It had felt good to punch that asshole, but it didn’t erase all the pain he’d caused. Deflating like a balloon, I felt the remaining rage seep out of my system now and even though I never wanted to see him again, I knew I could control the urge to pound his face in the next time I did.

  “Fine.”

  “Good. Want to go to the Coyote Roadhouse? Cool off?”

  “No. I just want to be alone,” I answered and started off down the street.

  “You going home?”

  “Nope.” I headed toward the docks to sit on my boat and calm down.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Cassie

  “What the hell was that?” I asked Jo while we stared at the door they’d dragged him through.

  “That was Jake Alton.”

  Jake. So that’s his name.

  “That guy screwed his fiancée.” She pointed to the guy with the brown hair and brown eyes leaning on Captain Bailey.

  “Shut up,” I breathed.

  “Yep. This spring. And that guy, Matt, the one who screwed his fiancée, was his best friend since they were in diapers. They were like brothers.”

  I looked again at him while he wiped a drip of blood from his nose. He would have been handsome if it weren’t for the blood splattered across his already bruising face. Even though the two weren’t brothers, they easily could have been mistaken for them. “Holy shit. That’s awful.”

  “Yeah, it’s really messed up. Matt’s been hiding from him since it happened, and it’s kind of an unspoken rule that this is Jake’s bar, so he avoided it. Apparently, he thought it was safe to see Jake. It seems he thought wrong.”

  Very wrong, I thought remembering the way he’d launched across the room and the sound of his fist colliding with that guy’s face.

  “Where’s the girl?” I asked, the thought of Jake with another woman not sitting well with me.

  “Left. It wasn’t the first time it’d happened, and everyone really loves Jake. We kind of drove her out of town.”

  “It wasn’t the first time?”

  “Nope. They’d been together since high school. She cheated on him senior year with some college dude and he forgave her. Then she went to college and dumped him, but she snagged him back every summer she came home. When she flunked out, of course Jake was there to take care of her, then she cheated on him again. It was a never-ending cycle.”

  “Seriously? Who is this bitch?” Anger seethed through me on his behalf. I had been cheated on before and knew how awful it felt. I couldn’t imagine how hurtful it must have been having it happen again and again.

  “Just some dumb girl he happened to fall in love with. I’ve never understood what was so special about her. She’s gorgeous, but that’s about all she has going for her. Even though you wouldn’t know it from tonight, Jake’s a sweet guy, and as loyal as they come. So, he forgave her when she popped up again last year, and this time slapped a ring on her finger. Then she went and banged his best friend.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Messed up.”

  “So, you ran her out of town?”

  “Basically. We’d all had enough of her shit, so we made her life a living hell until she tucked tail and ran. Good riddance. Hopefully she stays gone. Lives in Chicago now from what I hear. Jake doesn’t need to go through that shit again. But this time, since it was with his best friend, it really messed him up.”

  “I can’t even imagine. Poor guy.”

  “Poor guy is right. We grew up together and they don’t come any better than Jake Alton. I grew up with Matt, too. He, Jake, and I were best friends since before we could walk, but after what he did to Jake, I’m not even going to bother tossing him a clean rag for his nose. Asshole.”

  Matt took the hand of a man who pulled him up. Silence still settled over the once-lively bar and he started toward the door.

  “I wouldn’t do that, Matt,” Jo said, shaking her head. “Jake’s still out there.” She looked out the window, and I followed suit, then saw Jake storming away.

  Matt dabbed the blood on his split lip. “Sorry about that, Jo. I didn’t think that was going to happen.”

  “You didn’t think what would happen? That Jake would kick the shit out of you the first time he saw you after you screwed Nikki? Wow. Shocker.” Jo rolled her eyes.

  Eyes heavy with sorrow dropped to the floor, and he shuffled his feet. “It was an accident.”

  �
�Coming here or banging your best friend’s girl? I don’t see how either of those could be accidents.”

  Jo peeked out the window again. “He’s gone. Now get the hell out of here and don’t come back. You dug your grave, now get inside and stay there, dick.”

  Even though I knew what he did and found it despicable, the sadness pulling the corners of his eyes down almost had me feeling sorry for him.

  “Sorry, Jo,” he said on a sigh while he moved to the door.

  “Whatever, Matt. Just don’t come back. This is Jake’s bar.”

  Nodding his head, he ducked out the door. I saw him pause, likely checking to make sure the coast was clear. Who could blame him? When I’d seen Jake stand up, the size of those biceps was unmistakable even underneath his camouflage pullover. Standing well over six feet tall, he’d towered over Matt just before tackling him. Matt hadn’t stood a chance against Jake’s size, strength, and the rage that nearly blew apart the bar.

  “Dick,” Jo added when the door closed behind him.

  “So, you’re friends with Jake?” I asked, hoping I didn’t seem too interested.

  “Yep. We’ve been buds since we were kids. He’s a great guy. One of the good ones. Figure that means he gets his heart stomped on.”

  “Jo!” A guy with an bushy orange beard said when he came back into the bar. I recognized him as the guy who’d been talking to Jake before the fight.

  “Is he okay, Aaron?” she asked when he arrived at the bar.

  “Yeah, he’s fine. Physically at least.”

  “Poor Jake.”

  “I’m worried about him, Jo.”

  “Me, too. But we’ll get him through this.”

  They both noticed me standing and listening, and two sets of eyes turned toward me.

  “Aaron, Cassie. Cassie, Aaron.” Jo introduced us.

  “Hi,” I answered.

  “Hey, there.” A familiar smile lifted his lips. There. That was the look most guys gave me when they saw me. The “take me home and screw me” look. It was the look that was strangely absent from Jake’s face when he’d watched me tonight.

  “Can you go clean up the mess they made?” Jo asked me, and I nodded.

  Grabbing a bar rag off the counter, I walked through the Ox. Most of the tourists bolted after the fight, leaving only a couple dozen stragglers behind. After straightening up Captain Bailey, I wiped the spilled drinks off the chairs and picked up the bottle of beer that hadn’t survived the fight. Looking out the big window over-looking the street, I saw Matt standing alone on the sidewalk. Once again, I felt sorry for him, but then remembered what he’d done to Jake and shook my head, returning to the bar to go screw up some more drinks.

  “Listen, it’s pretty slow now. Why don’t you head home for tonight and we’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow?” Jo said.

  Hearing those words nearly sent me crumbling to the ground in a puddle of relief. Everything hurt. My feet swelled within my Prada shoes, my thighs burned from squatting up and down to open the coolers, my back screamed for Eloise, my masseuse, and my fingers were red and swollen from opening cans of beer all night. Even though I worked out daily in New York with Alex, my trainer, I’d never been this sore in my life. Bartending was exhausting, and I wondered how many nights I could do this before my body just gave out and Jo found me unconscious on the floor.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, holding my breath and hoping she didn’t change her mind. The bar had never recovered after the fight, and now that it was eleven o’clock, I figured she was right and it probably wouldn’t pick up again, but I wanted to be sure. I’d already pissed her off enough times tonight, I didn’t need to do it again.

  “Yes. It’s kind of a weird night with the fight, so why don’t you go home, and I’ll close up. I don’t want to overwhelm you on your first night. Especially since you’ve never bartended before.” A dark eyebrow rose, and I shrunk a little beneath her accusatory stare.

  “Okay, Jo. And I’m really sorry I lied. I was desperate.”

  With a playful roll of her eyes, she shook her head. “It’s fine. I get it. And all things considered, you didn’t do too horrible. Although I never thought anyone in the world actually thought we put real rocks in a glass when someone asked for something ‘on the rocks’.” A smile punctuated the sentence.

  Bursting into laughter at the memory of me asking her where she kept the rocks, I shook my head. “I promise I’m not an idiot, contrary to what it may have looked like tonight. I won’t let you down, Jo.”

  “I know. Glad to have you on board.”

  Limping my way out of the bar, I climbed into the big brown beast I’d parked on the side street after I’d run home to let Poppy out during my break earlier. The engine sputtered when I turned the key and for a moment, I didn’t think it would start. I tried again, and the engine roared back to life. Whispering a silent thank you, I put it in drive and started up the hill toward home.

  As I drove across the causeway, my headlights flickered and went out. A moment later the car lost power, and I screamed while I slammed on the brakes and steered toward the side of the road. When I puttered to a stop, I put it in park and tried starting it again. Nothing happened when I turned the key and panic rose in me while I tried again.

  “No, no, no, no, NO!” I cried out then gave up my fight to get the old girl going again. “Shit.”

  Looking around and trying to remain calm, I searched the soft glow of the streetlights illuminating the causeway. It was pitch black everywhere those lights didn’t touch, and I pulled out my phone to call for help. Dead. Of course it was. I remembered I’d forgotten to charge it before I left for work and it died halfway through my shift.

  Feeling like I was back in that horror movie I’d starred in when I arrived at my cabin, I sat for a moment debating what to do. With no phone to call for help, a car that wouldn’t start, and my cabin a good mile-walk away, I thought about hunkering down here until daylight. Unless, of course, a serial killer’s face popped up in my window just before he stabbed me to death. Once that visual got in my head, my heart raced while my gaze darted to all my windows, each time thinking a sinister face would meet my eyes even though he hadn’t been there a second ago.

  With panic guiding me, I whipped open the door and started out of the car to run home. Then I remembered my swollen feet and realized how painful every step home would be. If walking home on swollen feet wasn’t enough to stop me, picturing a car pulling up beside me and dragging me inside to transport me to the dungeon in their basement did the trick. With that new visual in my head, I slammed the door shut and ducked back inside my car. Stay here and get slaughtered, I thought while I peeked in the rearview expecting to see a murderer’s face or run home and get kidnapped on the way. A frustrated squeal squeezed past my closed lips as I pondered each future, but then I remembered Poppy.

  Worry that a bear or some other predator would break into the house and eat her while I was gone, I’d locked her in the bathroom with no windows and set her up on a big bed of cashmere sweaters with a bowl of food and water. It’d been four hours since I’d been home, and I knew she probably needed to go out. Without Lily to let her out, I knew she was depending on me. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the door handle and opened the door. Poppy needed me, and I would have to take my chances with getting kidnapped to get home to her.

  Stepping out, I winced when my swollen feet touched the ground. Making a note to order shoes like Jo’s as soon as I got a paycheck, I started one painful step after another toward my cabin where Poppy waited. The still air and chirping of some creatures near the water were the only sounds filling the night while I walked. Part of me found it peaceful to be out here all alone without the constant buzz of traffic and voices that echoed through the streets of New York. The other part of me was near paralyzed from the feeling of being truly alone. That and the fear that the car carrying my kidnapper would come down the road at any moment.

  Just as I made it off the causeway, I saw a
set of headlights coming up behind me. The kidnapper. Of course. My heart hammered in my chest while I ran in frantic circles under the streetlight trying to figure out where to hide. A tuft of weeds on the side of the road caught my eye, and as the headlights got closer, I dove into them. With a grunt I landed in the dirt, and curled up into a ball, covering my head with the long weeds as the vehicle came by. The engine slowed, and I heard the tires grind to a halt on some loose stones.

  I’m spotted! Reaching into my purse, I fumbled around and got ahold of the mace I carried on my key chain. When I heard the door open and footsteps start up, I flicked the lid off my mace and held my finger on the button. With fear coursing through my veins, I crouched low, ready to attack and hoping those self-defense classes I’d taken with Liza had stuck.

  “Are you okay?” a deep voice called, and I crouched lower. Not wanting to give away my location, I remained silent. “Hello? Cassie? Is that you?”

  He knows my name? A shiver snaked up my spine. I was being stalked. By a gritty voiced psycho kidnapper rapist killer stalker. Whoever he was probably messed with my car so it would die. I’ve seen Dateline NBC. With visions of horror movies flying through my mind, I held my breath and prepared for a fight. I wasn’t going down easy.

  Never, ever let them take you to a second location.

  “It’s Jake. From the Ox. The whiskey and coke guy. Are you in the weeds? Cassie? I saw you.”

  Jake? Now recognizing his voice, I peered out from my vegetation fortress and saw him standing beside a giant black truck. The headlights illuminated him, and he shielded his eyes while he stared at me.

  “Jake?”

  “You okay?”