Heels (Boots Book 2)

by Megan Erickson

  “Are you sure you don’t need to sit down?” asked Harriet, the teacher who’d been at Bumble Bee’s the longest—two decades.

  I placed my hand on my stomach. “No, really, I’m fine. I sit most of the day.”

  “But Verne isn’t in today to help.” Meredith jerked her head toward the kids and said in a stern voice. “Paula, we eat pretzels, not stick them up our noses.”

  Giggling followed her words.

  “It’s really okay. My boyfriend is bringing me lunch so if I need anything, he can help out. No worries.”

  Meredith smiled. I didn’t miss the small frown on Harriet’s face. Bryan was still a hard sell to some of this town, especially the older generation who were not welcoming to a tattooed, smooth-talking Yankee.

  My phone rang, and I pulled it out of my dress pocket. Bryan was calling. I silenced it and dropped it back into my pocket. I’d call him back.

  A few seconds later, my phone vibrated. Bryan was calling again. “I’m sorry,” I said to the ladies. “I think I need to get this.”

  They waved me on. “Of course,” Meredith said. “We have it under control.”

  I turned my back and began to walk toward the front desk for privacy. “Hey.”

  “Sam,” Bryan’s voice was breaking up a bit.

  “Yeah? Where are you? Your signal is bad. Or maybe it’s mine.” I glanced at my phone. I had all my bars. “Hello?”

  “Are—library?”

  “What?”

  His voice rose. “—The lib-ry!”

  “Bryan, if you yell, it still doesn’t mean I can hear you clearer.” I laughed.

  The front door opened, and two men walked inside—a tall white man and a slender black man. There was a note on the door that we were closed for a field trip, but not everyone read signs. Unfortunately.

  “Someone’s at the door. I’ll call you back. And go where your signal is better.”

  “Sa—”

  I hung up, left my phone at my desk, and walked toward the front door. Two men stood in the entrance, glancing around. At first I thought they might be delivering something, but neither were wearing uniforms, Just dark jeans, boots, and long-sleeved cotton shirts. “Hello,” I said. “I’m sorry but we’re actually closed for a field trip right now.” I gestured toward the door behind them. “There’s a sign… anyway could you come back in a half hour?”

  The large white man took me in as I talked, and the way his eyes coasted over my body sent a chill down my spine. “Are you the librarian?” He shifted his body and I inhaled stale cigarette smoke.

  I took a step back, not liking being close to that smell. “Yes, hi, I’m Samantha.”

  “Look, Ford—” the other man began.

  “Shut up,” Ford growled, then reached around to the small of his back and withdrew a gun.

  A. Gun.

  My knees nearly gave out as my heart bottomed out in my feet. Ford swung the gun up casually, like it was not big thing, and leveled the gun at me. It was black, sleek, deadly.

  There was nowhere to run, not when I weighed an extra twenty pounds and had a library full of children.

  The other man grabbed me, his hand over my mouth as the scream rose up my throat. I struggled as the man holding me spoke through gritted teeth. “Did you know she was knocked up? For fuck’s sake, I didn’t sign up for this shit.”

  “‘Course I knew.” Ford lowered his gun.

  “Jesus Christ,” the man muttered into my ear. He held my wrists together at the small of my back, rendering me incapable of punching him in the face.

  “Calm the fuck down, Hoop.”

  Here was the thing, I lived in Kentucky. Guns weren’t unusual to me. But this gun? This revolver he held? This was not a collector’s item or a hunting gun to feed a family venison. This was a gun meant to use against humans. I struggled as I heard the laughter of children on the other side of the library. The men heard it too. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” Hoop said.

  Ford tilted his head and listened while I tried to drive my useless flat shoes into Hoop’s shins. Where were my heels when I needed them?

  “Change of plans,” Ford said.

  “Huh?”

  “We stay.”

  “What the fuck?”

  Ford ignored his accomplice. “Look, Samantha. I get your instinct is telling you to fight.” Ford tucked the gun into the front of his jeans and drew closer. His pale face was pock-marked with acne and a scar ran from the bottom of his right ear down to the middle of his jawline, like someone tried to cut his throat and missed. Goosebumps spread over my skin like wildfire. Why was that scar causing warning bells to blare in my brain?

  “But there’s no point, okay?” He brushed the hair out of my eyes, his gross fingers touching my skin and making me want to retch up my breakfast. I yelled from behind Hoop’s hand, and when that was ineffective, I bit down on his palm.

  “Fuck,” Hoop took his hand off immediately and shook it. “She bit me.”

  I barely got a scream out when Ford grasped my chin and wrenched my chin up, cutting off my voice. He leaned into me, lips in a snarl. “I said, there’s no fucking point. So you’re going to do what we say, or we torch this whole damn library with you and these kids in it. Understand?”

  I sucked in oxygen through my nose, my neck and shoulders protesting the position. He was right. There was no way I could fight. I had the kids to think about, also Meredith and Harriet.

  He let my chin go, and I gulped in air. “What do you want? We’re a library. We don’t have money. Or anything of value.”

  Ford looked around. “Yeah, I’m well aware of that. I don’t give a fuck about this library.” He let his gaze fall on me, and the cold look in his dark eyes froze my muscles. His scar was a livid red against his skin. “You have value.”

  I slashed him from ear to throat and sent him back to his dad.

  I began to struggle again as the realization hit me.

  Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh—

  He laughed. “You have value because if I have you… then I get Drayer.” He nodded, a satisfied smile on his face like he’d just figured out the world’s largest puzzle. “And Drayer is who I want.”

  I didn’t bother to deny I knew Bryan. What was the point? These guys knew who I was. I closed my eyes. I’m a protector. I’m a protector.

  Bryan would come. He would come to save me, and the baby, and these kids. And I had zero hope this Ford—whoever he was—had good plans for Bryan. Friends didn’t point guns at the pregnant girlfriend of friends.

  The next few minutes were a blur. Ford walked in front of me, gun in hand, until we reached the children. Harriet screamed and didn’t calm down until Meredith whispered in her ear. They lined the children up against the wall near my desk, Meredith and Harriet on either side, and pushed me into my chair. My phone sat in front of me, like a snake waiting to strike.

  “Call him,” Ford said. “Now.”

  I glanced up at the children. Some were crying, some were confused, others were scared, but they were all looking at me like I could get them out of this. Like I could make the nightmare end.

  Was there even a point in stalling? Still, I wanted to know what that phone call would do. “Why do you want him?”

  “Talk business.” Ford smiled, but he didn’t have the finesse Bryan did. This smile was shaky and not confident. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what Bryan did before he came here, and the men he came into contact with. He’d told me stories late at night with his arms around me where we both felt safe. So I didn’t think for one second that this man wanted to talk business.

  “Then why didn’t you go to his work?”

  “He’s not there today. And this business can’t wait.”

  I didn’t speak and the man leaned closer, cigarette breath causing the bile to rise in my throat. “Call. Him.” Smirk. “Peaches.”

  I slapped him. I didn’t mean to, but that word out of his foul mouth, knowing he was a bad man who wanted bad things ignited
every cell in my body capable of anger. He took the blow, turning his head, and then faced me again, palm print livid on his cheek. He didn’t smile this time. “Do that one more time, bitch. And I will punt you across the room. You and that fucking Drayer spawn in your gut.”

  “Ford,” Hoop hissed. “What the fuck?”

  “Shut up,” Ford snapped.

  He gripped my shoulder, and I whimpered as his fingers dug into my skin. “I’m going to tell you one more time. Call him and put him on speaker phone. I don’t give a fuck about you, or those kids, or those two bitches. I will torch this place with you in it. Don’t doubt me. Now fucking call him!” Spittle flew in my face, and I gagged.

  Ford shoved me so hard, the wheels on my chair slid back a foot. My shoulder flared with pain, and my stomach was rioting. I swallowed down the ball in my throat, tears springing to my eyes as I tried to maintain a sliver of composure.

  I pulled the chair closer to my desk, movements slow, while Ford watched me.

  I picked up my phone. Bryan had called ten more times. He must have been trying to warn me before. He knew something. He had to.

  “Look, bitch—”

  “I’m calling!” I snapped.

  I inhaled deeply as my heart pounded in my ears, the sounds around me drowned out.

  Lime’s kicking. Lime’s kicking. Bryan’s smile. The real one. The feel of his hand on my stomach. I love you, Peaches.

  Then I pressed the call button while my heart shattered.

  Nineteen

  Bryan picked up on the first ring. “Sam.”

  “Bry—” My voice cracked, and I swallowed nothing but air. “You’re on speaker. There’s two men here.”

  “Who are they?”

  “You can come on down to the library and see,” Ford said, leaning casually on the counter like he was making a lunch date. “No cops, no friends, no weapons. Just you.”

  “On my way.” Bryan didn’t sound panicked. “Are you okay, Sam? Did they hurt anyone?”

  His voice was freaking me out. It was calm, almost jovial. “Bryan, they have guns.”

  “I know they have guns, baby. I’m asking if they hurt you. Or anyone there.”

  I met Ford’s gaze as my arm throbbed. “No one’s hurt.”

  “Did they touch you?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. I could still feel the imprint of Ford’s fingers when he squeezed my jaw.

  Bryan was smiling when he spoke again. I heard it in his voice. “Okay. Right now, all I need you to do is sit tight. Be there soon, and then this’ll be over.”

  “Tell him what’ll happen if he doesn’t cooperate,” Ford said.

  “Um.” My body began to shake. “They said they’ll…burn down the library. With us in it.”

  Ford grinned at me.

  “Did they?” Bryan laughed, and the sound was like fingers on a chalkboard. “I’m sure they did.”

  “I’m scared,” I whispered.

  He didn’t answer right away. “I know, baby. Be there soon.”

  I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me. “Um, okay.”

  “Remember,” Ford raised his voice. “Come alone. No police, or you burn.”

  I held back a sob. “Bryan, did you hear that?”

  “Yep,” he answered back, sounding distracted.

  “Hang up now,” Ford said.

  “I—”

  Ford wrenched the phone from my hand and spat into the receiver. “See you soon, you piece of shit.” Then he hurled the phone over my head, where it hit the wall and shattered.

  He placed his hands on his hips, crooked smile creeping across his face. “Well, now we wait.”

  I needed to do something. I couldn’t just sit here. Plus I was worried about what Ford would do if he got bored. “Can I read to the children?” I asked. “To calm them?”

  “Calm them? They’re calm. Look at ‘em. Like perfect angels sitting along the wall. Nah, I think they’re fine.”

  His lips curled up one side as he took me in from where I sat behind the desk. “Drayer knocked up a small-town librarian. Incredible. Thinking he can start over, get that two-point-three kids and a white picket fence. Do you know who he is, sweetheart? What he’s done?”

  I didn’t answer, not wanting to provoke Ford. Hoop stood nearby, looking uneasy, and that was enough for me to keep my mouth shut.

  “Well?” Ford’s bloodshot eyes speared me. He pointed to his scar with a shaking finger. “He did that, you know. Just because he was angry at my dad. He had two guys hold me, and Bryan himself sliced me open. He was smiling when he did it. Did you know that? He smiles because he’s fucked in the head. And that kid you’re growing is going to be just as fucked up as him. The last thing we need is a Drayer reproducing. Right, Hoop?”

  Hoop’s gaze swept to me, then back to Ford. “How about you calm down on the ranting?”

  “Fuck you!” Ford paced back and forth in front of my desk. Sweat darkened his T-shirt under his arms.

  My entire body was shaking. I was scared for the baby, because this couldn’t be good for Lime, but I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t in control of my body, and maybe that was why I spoke. “I know who he is. I love him, and he has tried to make amends—”

  “Amends!” Ford laughed hysterically. “He paid off my dad. Apologized for cutting me, and my dad told me to drop it. That it was over.” He lunged toward me, slamming his hands on the counter. “It’s not fucking over! He doesn’t get you, and that baby and this fucking small-town life. He doesn’t fucking get any of it!”

  The kids were crying, and I was too, as I felt the tears drip from my chin to wet my hands where they lay limp on my lap. “You’re wrong,” I whispered. “He already has it.”

  The front door banged open and shut, and I jumped in my chair. Bryan stood with his hands on his hips, gaze on me. He was the definition of calm, small smile on his face, posture casual. Meanwhile, I was scared out of my mind, shaking and crying.

  He walked slowly toward us, arms out at his sides. “Ford. Hoop. Nice to see you boys again.”

  Hoop frisked Bryan, then stepped out of the way. I thought they’d talk, but Ford wasted no time. He swung his gun and aimed it at Bryan’s chest. I shrieked, and quickly slapped my hands over my mouth as the kids whimpered. Bryan’s hands went up, palms out, and his smile grew. “Oh hey. Bit premature for the gun pointing, right? I thought we’d talk. I’m sure you want to curse me to hell before you shoot me. We doing that here, or did you set up a picnic somewhere?”

  “I’d love nothing more than to pull this trigger now so your girl gets to watch your head splatter over all her precious books.”

  Bryan froze for a split second, and then laughed softly while pointing at Ford. “Now, that’s a good one. You practiced that, I’m sure.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Ford’s gun hand shook, and I braced for him to pull the trigger.

  “Look, I’m here,” Bryan said. “That’s what you wanted. Now let’s leave these kids alone and go somewhere else. Police have no idea. No one here called. Right ladies?”

  Meredith and Harriet shook their heads. Bryan looked at me, and something in his expression, an inner confidence, calmed me a fraction. “No, Bryan,” I said.

  “See?” he said to Ford.

  Ford gestured with his gun toward the back door. “Let’s go. Hoop, grab the girl.”

  Hoop frowned. “What girl?”

  “His girl, you fuck.”

  “How about we leave Samantha out of this?” Bryan suggested.

  “I have her, and you stay in line. The women in your life are always your downfall, aren’t they? First your sister, now your girlfriend.”

  Bryan tilted his head to the side. “Downfall, huh?” He hummed under his breath and cut his eyes to me.

  “Hoop, grab her.”

  I stood up, palms out like I’d see Bryan do. “No need to grab me. I’ll come.”

  “Gun on her, Hoop.” Ford said as he pushed Bryan in front of him toward the back entrance, gun
at his back.

  Hoop rolled his eyes and lifted up his shirt to show a gun tucked into his waistband. “Follow them.”

  My legs were like jelly, muscles atrophied like I’d spent months in bed. Fear had a way of threading through every cell, affecting my walk, my speech, my very psyche. Were we walking to our deaths? Was this it? When we were so close to forever? I was angry at Bryan for his past rising up, and I was angry at Ford for needing revenge. I was angry at myself for not anticipating this.

  Lime took that moment to kick me and I placed my hand over my stomach. The doors opened, and we walked outside. I blinked into the glaring sun as we marched our way across the parking lot to a waiting Camry.

  When we reached it, and Ford motioned for me to drive, I understood why I’d been brought along. Ford could sit in the back and hold a gun on Bryan. I would drive, with Hoop in the passenger seat. I wouldn’t crash us, and Ford knew it. Not with Lime in my belly. Ford tied Bryan’s hands behind his back with some rope, then shoved him inside.

  I fiddled with the seat, moving it forward and backward, adjusting my seatbelt, the vents, and anything else I could do to stall. Finally Ford barked, “Enough, Christ. Start the damn car. Head to Big Muddy River.”

  I met Bryan’s gaze in the rearview mirror from where he sat. He didn’t say a word, expression still neutral, almost bored. I wasn’t fooled, and I didn’t think Ford was either. Bryan held my gaze until I was forced to look away to focus on driving. I started the engine, and pulled out of the library parking lot on my way to Old Muddy.

  I waited to hear police sirens, anything, because surely Meredith and Harriet had called the police? But there was nothing. The roads were quiet, as they normally were in the middle of a Tuesday work day. My hands shook on the steering wheel and I gripped it tighter, scared I’d wreck the car out of sheer nerves. Hoop was quiet beside me, relaxed, his body swaying gently with the motion of the car.

  “You know, they have cream for that.” Bryan’s voice came from the back seat, almost conversationally. “It fades scars.”

  And in a blur, Ford’s elbow cracked down on Bryan’s cheekbone. Blood squirted as far as the front console and I screamed. I nearly ran my car off the road, jerked the steering wheel to keep us straight.