“Most men are,” Mitchell answered. “Hurry up before the noodles get cold. They ain’t great when warm, but when cold, it’s like eating slimy worms.”
Determined to take care of herself, Callie struggled to get dressed. By the time she finished, she was sweating.
When she walked into the small living area, she froze in the doorway. “Uh, what happened in here?”
Mitchell smirked, motioning for her to join him at the bar. “I needed something to do while you were sawing logs all afternoon.”
“What did you do with all the junk?” Callie asked, gaze still focused on the clean living area.
“Bagged up most of it and took it to the dumpster out back. Had an interesting conversation with Randy.”
Sitting down next to him, Callie said, “Randy’s an asshole.”
“I agree. And nosy. He asked one-too many questions. He’s taking a nice, long nap now.”
“Are you serious? You knocked him out? Why?”
Mitchell cast a sideways glance, arching one eyebrow. “Does it matter?”
“Guess not,” Callie responded, studying Mitchell’s face. “Did you really retire, or did you get kicked off the force? You know, for being too aggressive and refusing to take anger management classes or something? No, wait! You really aren’t a cop. You’re just on the run like I am. That makes more sense, and explains why you stayed in this rat hole with a jonesing junkie.”
“Again with the smart mouth. A full night’s rest didn’t help your attitude I see.”
Callie set the spoon down and faced him. “Seriously, Mitchell. Why? Why were you following Sable last night? Why did you help me, clean up this nasty place, hold me while I cried and whined all night? I told you my tale of woe; now it’s your turn.”
Mitchell’s jaw tightened as he stood. Reaching into his back pocket, he extracted his wallet. Flipping it open, he showed Callie his driver’s license and the badge he’d received when he retired. “There, happy?”
“Okay, so you’re really a retired detective named Mitchell Sinclair. That doesn’t answer my other questions.”
“There are some things better left unsaid, Callie. Everyone has secrets and a dark side. In the end, does the reason really matter how we found each other? Fate, divine intervention, karma, or the world’s craziest twist of events. Call it what you like. For me, I’ll take divine intervention. Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”
“Good Lord, what’s left to know about me? You know more about me than my own mother did.”
Mitchell stared at Callie for several seconds before answering. “You said last night you wanted to live and get clean. Still feel that way? I mean, are you truly ready to change your life?”
A lump of tears formed in her throat. Callie swallowed twice before answering, “Yes, but again, I don’t have a clue where to start. I can’t go back to Arkansas. It’s too dangerous.”
“Because you’re worried about prison?”
“No, because of De’Shawn. Even here, he wouldn’t leave me alone. About every three weeks he’d show up, demanding money to keep my whereabouts quiet. How he found me I have no clue, but he did. I’m stuck! If I go back, he’ll find me, and if I stay, he’ll find me. It’s been about six weeks now, and when he comes by and I’ve got nothing to give him—”
“You don’t need to worry about that. He won’t be coming back. Ever.”
“How do you know that?” Callie asked.
“Dead people can’t travel.”
The words slammed into Callie’s mind like she’d been punched. “What?”
“Yep. Got his throat ripped out and most of his face eaten off by his dog, Hercules.”
Stunned, Callie asked, “How do you know that?”
“Because I worked in the narcotics unit. De’Shawn was a narc. Answered to my partner.”
The way Mitchell said the words made chills run up Callie’s back. The look on his face, the raw anger, the quiet rage making his muscles tense, spoke volumes. She understood how De’Shawn found her—he knew Sable. Suddenly, it all made sense. Mitchell Sinclair had been hunting a drug dealer associated with De’Shawn. Why still wasn’t clear, but she couldn’t shake the sensation she was onto something.
Taking a deep breath, Callie finally asked, “So, I can really go home? I mean, I know I’ll have to turn myself in and all, but a year in prison certainly can’t be any worse than the year I’ve spent here.”
Mitchell shook his head. “Rehab first and then we’ll deal with the judicial system.”
“We?” Callie whispered.
“Yeah, we. I’ve already made some calls this morning. When you’re ready, I’ve got you a room for sixty days at Brightwaters in North Little Rock. When your arm heals enough to ride back with me, we’ll go.”
Tears raced down Callie’s face while she stared at the man she’d only known for less than twenty-four hours. For the first time in three years, she had hope, and it showed up in a 6’4” bull of a man with a buzz cut and demons of his own.
Rising to her feet, Callie walked over to Mitchell, throwing her good arm around his burly neck. “Thank you for saving me, Mitchell. I mean it.”
A look of intense sadness flashed across his face. Callie noticed a hint of tears glint in his eyes.
“The feeling’s mutual.”
She wondered exactly what he meant but decided now wasn’t the time to ask. “Give me twenty minutes to pack, and we can go. I want to get out of here before the police show up asking questions about Sable.”
“You didn’t want to involve the police, so why in the world do you think a drug dealer would?”
Callie shrugged her shoulders. “Paranoia?”
Mitchell laughed. “I don’t have a car, Callie. I rode a motorcycle. You really think you can handle 150 miles on the back with that arm?”
Callie glanced around the room, the place she’d sank to the lowest levels of her life and smiled. “Piece of cake, Dark Knight. Piece of cake. Let’s roll.”
“Dark Knight? Hmm, I’ve been called worse,” Mitchell chuckled. “You realize the ride will be extremely uncomfortable and bumpy, right?”
Turning her gaze to Mitchell’s inquisitive blue eyes, Callie knew his words weren’t only about the actual drive to Arkansas. They were about the journey to sobriety she was embarking upon.
A race I started on my own. For me. Not for anyone else, but for me. I want this. I will do this. Like Coach Patterson used to say, I’ll win this race for me.
“I think I’ll be okay, Mitchell. If I start to wobble, I’ll just hang on tighter.”
EPILOGUE
Seven Months Later
“Great meeting, Regina. The speaker tonight was the best one yet!”
“She was good, wasn’t she? Talk about God raising the dead!” Regina remarked while following Callie outside. “When are you going to start doing the same?”
Callie laughed. “Uh, never. Public speaking isn’t my thing. I’d fall apart. I’m still struggling to deal with what I went through with you, and you’re my sponsor. The thought of standing up in front of a room full of others terrifies me.”
“You’ll do it, I know you will. I’ve never been wrong before. God will let you know when you’re ready.”
Callie blushed. “I still struggle with the whole higher power thing, Regina. I mean, I grew up in church and all, yet we quit going when my grandparents died. I’m not sure I’ll know if he’s leading me to do anything.”
Regina waved her hands in the air. “Doesn’t matter. He’ll know, just like he knew you were ready to go visit the graves of your family to say goodbye two weeks ago.”
Callie shuddered at the memory of the painful day. “I guess.”
“So, new topic. How’s the job?”
“I love it. I mean, why wouldn’t I? I get to see animals all day long. It’s kind of a bummer when one comes in sick, but when just for a checkup or shots, it’s a blast. Dr. Sinclair is s
o kind. He knows I can’t have pets so last week, the office officially adopted the cutest cat someone dumped off. Big, orange and white tabby we named Sherbert. He spends the majority of his days sleeping right next to the computer.”
Regina smiled. “Good to hear. I knew you’d be a good fit in his office.”
“Thank you again for recommending me. Dr. Sinclair’s a really nice man. He told me if things go sour tomorrow, I’d still have a job when I get out. Isn’t that sweet?”
“It is,” Regina replied. She put her hand on Callie’s arm. “Don’t stress about court tomorrow, Callie. God’s got this. You’ve come a long way in seven months.”
“I know,” Callie sighed. She’d been fighting off the worry about appearing in court. “You’re going to be there, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it!” Regina answered while scouring the parking lot. “You need a ride?”
The roar of Mitchell’s motorcycle pulling into the parking lot drowned out Callie’s response.
“Oh, guess not. Hunky McHunk is here. I still can’t believe you two are just friends. Come on, spill. It’s just us girls. What’s really going on between the two of you? I’ve never seen someone who wasn't a family member come to visit a client every single Friday.”
“We’re just really close. That’s all. We get each other.”
Regina licked her lips as Mitchell parked the bike. “I’d like to get me some—”
“Sounds like someone needs a cold shower or a bucket of ice dumped on them,” Callie said, shaking her head. Regina was practically drooling. “The man’s old enough to be my father and yours.”
“Oh, Daddy, I’ve been really bad.”
Holding up her hand, Callie interrupted. “Okay, enough. I get it. See you next week.”
Turning, Callie walked away, leaving her sponsor alone with her sick fantasies about Mitchell.
“So, how was the meeting?” Mitchell asked.
Climbing on to the back of the bike, she answered, “Good. The speaker’s testimony was amazing. The woman endured horrors way worse than mine. She’s an inspiration.”
“So are you. Come on, I want to take you somewhere I think you’re ready to see. Gotta hurry before curfew at the house.”
“Last night, the house mother went off on Charlotte, the girl who arrived earlier in the week. She found a baggie of meth and then all hell broke loose. It was crazy and intense for about thirty minutes.”
“Can’t blame her. It’s not called a chemfree house for nothing.”
“So, where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Helmet, please.”
Callie didn’t argue. She loved riding with Mitchell. It gave her a sense of freedom and a rush. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she sighed. She would never admit it to anyone, but she did have a slight crush on him, which made sense. He’d saved her life—been her Dark Knight swooping in to rescue her—but that’s as far as she’d let it go.
She wouldn’t let anyone stand in her way of staying sober and working on herself. There would be no point. Right now, she wouldn’t be able to offer anything to a relationship anyway, and though she was attracted to Mitchell on certain levels, the thought of getting intimate with anyone made her stomach twist into a knot. After what she’d experienced in Memphis, sex was the last thing on her mind.
Sometimes at night when she couldn’t sleep, she considered trying to contact Kevin. In the end, she decided too much had happened, too much time had passed, and it was time to let go. The last conversation they had when he came over and helped Callie and her mother pack and move had been awkward and strained. Kevin’s life plans never included having a junkie as his mate. Though clean and sober now, she knew the rest of her life would be a struggle to remain that way, and she refused to drag Kevin into the mess. His heart had already been destroyed once. Every time Callie thought about the look on his face graduation night, the words “I’m willing to break my own heart to fix yours” she’d tear up.
She wouldn’t risk hurting him again. He’d always hold a special place inside her heart, but he deserved to have a woman who wasn’t so damaged.
“Here we are.”
Callie removed the helmet and stared at the beautiful place. A small ranch house surrounded by tall trees and a white picket fence sat in front of them. Stretching around the side of the house was fresh concrete and the bare bones of a building. “Is this your place?”
“No, but I’ll be living here soon, once the construction on the apartments is completed.”
Curious after noticing a small wooden sign that read The Joshua Tree tacked to the front gate, Callie asked, “What kind of place is this?”
“Come on, I’ll show you.”
They climbed off the bike and walked around back. A large pond with several weeping willows hanging over it looked like it was on fire as the last rays of the sun caressed the top of the water. “Oh, this is beautiful! Any fish in there?”
Pointing to a small bench ahead, Mitchell answered, “Not yet, but that’s another item on the agenda. Fishing is relaxing, and addicts need all of that they can get.”
“Addicts? This place will be a treatment facility?”
“That’s the plan. We’ll have housing for about twenty at a time. Once I finish the buildings, the next project is a walking trail that leads to an old barn back there.” Mitchell pointed to a large clump of trees. “Going to add a big gazebo next to the pond so people can meditate.”
“So why did you bring me here? I’ve already gone through rehab and been living in chemfree housing for months.”
Mitchell let the normal edginess he wore like an accessory drop. “Do you remember when you thanked me for saving you and I said the feeling’s mutual?”
“Yes.”
“I wasn’t kidding. Let me tell you why I was in Memphis.”
“Okay.”
“This place was owned by an amazing woman named Merry Hall. She left it all to her best friend, Debbie, who lives here and has been helping me set this all up. You see, Merry’s son, Joshua, was murdered during a drug deal. At his funeral, Merry’s husband, Harold suffered a massive heart attack and died. It left the poor woman so broken she died less than six months later.”
Callie gasped. “Dear God, how awful!”
“Merry’s brother, Derek, was my partner. We went to the academy together. He was the closest thing to a brother I’ve ever known. The last six years we worked together in the narcotics unit. Derek was De’Shawn’s handler. I would have given up my life for Derek. I trusted him that much. Unfortunately, he let the life lure him in. Joshua witnessed a deal go down between his uncle and De’Shawn, and Derek killed him, making it look like he overdosed on heroin. Not long after, Derek was shot during a deal. He didn’t survive.”
Callie’s eyes widened in shock as everything clicked. “Oh, Mitchell, I’m so sorry. You wanted revenge, didn’t you? Is that why you went to Memphis? Looking for De’Shawn?”
Mitchell’s jaw tightened. He wouldn’t look Callie in the face. “No. De’Shawn was already dead. I went to find the next rung in the ladder—the guy Derek had been buying from. He’d been making runs to Memphis, and when I realized why, I decided to go find the piece of shit he’d been buying from and kill him. That person was Sable.”
“But you didn’t kill him! You saved me instead.”
Turning to face her, Mitchell whispered. “If you wouldn’t have been there, I would have crossed a line I’m not sure I could ever come back from.”
Unsure what to say, Callie simply leaned closer and hugged Mitchell with all her strength. They sat together on the bench for several minutes, each clinging to the other like lost siblings. Finally, Callie asked, “So that’s why it’s named The Joshua Tree. What a lovely gesture.”
“The night I found you, I felt something change inside me. Like I said back then, I believe it was divine intervention. I knew taking the life of just one pathetic dealer wouldn’t help people like
you. What will help is a place they can go and have more than just a detox experience. I had a lot of long conversations with Debbie, and we came up with this plan. I needed to change my focus, let the anger go, and do something positive with my life. This place will be for healing the mind, body, and soul. And I’d like you to be a part of it as a counselor.”
Callie’s mouth dropped open. “Come again?”
“If you want to, of course. Completely up to you, but the offer is on the table. You would be a great counselor and could help others. Helping others, and yourself in the process, will give those ruined wings on your foot a chance to soar.”
“Oh, Mitchell. I don’t know what to say. I’m honored and terrified at the same time. Will the offer still be available when I get out of prison? You know, after I go before the judge tomorrow?”
Mitchell stood, swiping his hand across his face to rid it of his tears. “If you agree to come work here, stay drug free and submit to random testing, attend drug counselor classes, and graduate, then you’ll be on probation for three years under my watchful eye. Worked the deal out myself with the prosecutor and the judge today.”
Callie burst into tears. So much had happened in four years. Complete strangers stepped in and changed her life. A hint of worry about whether she could maintain her sobriety made her shiver. “I can’t believe this. You really are an angel sent from above.”
Mitchell put his arms around Callie, pulling her to his chest. “The feeling’s mutual, CeeCee.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning and International bestselling author, Ashley Fontainne, is an avid reader of mostly the classics. Ashley became a fan of the written word in her youth, starting with the Nancy Drew mystery series. Stories that immerse the reader deep into the human psyche and the monsters lurking within us are her favorite reads.
Her muse for penning the Eviscerating the Snake series was The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. Ashley's love for this book is what sparked her desire to write her debut novel, Accountable to None, the first book in the trilogy. With a modern setting to the tale, Ashley delves into just what lengths a person is willing to go to when they seek personal justice for heinous acts perpetrated upon them. The second novel in the series, Zero Balance, focuses on the cost and reciprocal cycle that obtaining revenge has on the seeker. Once the cycle starts, where does it end? How far will the tendrils of revenge expand? Adjusting Journal Entries answered that question—far and wide.
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