by Nikkie Locke
“But how do you know you’ll have work? You just fill in.”
“I’m counting this as two questions, but we’ll go ahead,” he told her. “I’ve worked at least forty hours a week since we graduated high school. I’ve never been short unless I chose to be. It just works out.”
“Does that make you nervous, though? Just hoping it’ll work out.”
“You’ll have to win another round to get the answer to that.”
She dealt the next hand. She also lost it.
“How did it happen that Kalvin was your first kiss?”
She shrugged. “Kalvin had kissed Mary Gretty. I’m not sure she was his first, but she managed to damage his poor little ego — ”
“Kalvin has never had a little ego when it comes to girls,” he interrupted. “Not ever.”
“Apparently he did then. He asked me if I would practice with him.”
He shook his head. “He was yanking your chain. I’d bet anything.”
“Maybe. Either way, he kissed me senseless. I praised his mad skills, and we never talked about it again.”
“His mad skills? Oh, God! You created a monster. You’re the reason Kalvin is the way he is,” he accused.
She laughed. “That’s entirely possible. Next hand.”
He won the next hand as well.
“Why did you buy a house instead of renting?”
“You said you rented from Ms. Taylor, right?”
He nodded.
“I refused to. While I was getting ready to sign my lease the first year out of my parents’ house, she told my mother that she’d keep an eye on me. In front of me!”
“Really?”
“Honest to God, she did! You can bet that was so not happening. I faked sick and bailed before signing anything. I found my house for sale the next day. Mom and I crunched numbers, and I knew I could make it work.”
“Did you not realize you were moving across from Ms. Clarke? Out of the frying pan and into the fire.”
“Ms. Clarke is a worse gossip, but she doesn’t have a key to my house.” She laughed. “Next hand.”
Payten won that one.
“Don’t you worry about not having the money to cover your bills?”
“You’re very preoccupied with my finances. Worried you should be picking up the bills on our dates?”
She gaped. “Of course not!”
“I was just teasing.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I don’t really worry about the money. I live pretty simply and don’t have a lot of expenses. Also, when my mother died, there was some insurance money. Dad didn’t use most of it. My mother wanted to be cremated. Dad invested it. With what it has earned, there’s quite a bit. I’ll never be rich, but as long as I work when I can, I’ll be fine.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “Next hand.”
She won it as well.
“What — ” She hesitated. “I’m not sure this is the right time to ask. If you don’t want to answer, I completely understand.”
“Go ahead and ask.”
“What was your nightmare about?”
He stiffened.
“Right. Never mind. I’ll think of something else.”
He shook his head. “Come here.”
She moved to sit next to him. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Briefly, he nuzzled his face in her hair. She assumed it was comforting to him.
“Dean, it’s okay. You really don’t have to tell me. Or you can tell me later.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I want to.”
She nodded.
“I don’t know what the nightmares are about. Not for sure. I never remember them when I wake up. Thank God for small miracles. I can guess what they’re about, though.”
“You really don’t have to tell me.”
He ignored her protest. “You know my mother was murdered, right?”
She nodded.
“You probably know some of this. Small towns and all. Where do you want me to start?”
“If you’re going to tell it, you should start at the beginning,” she answered.
“My parents got divorced when I was seven. I lived with Mom. I worshipped her. Probably learned that from Dad. Even after the divorce, Dad worshipped her.
“My mom married Kevin when I was nine. He seemed all right. He brought me candy sometimes after work. And, he used to call me ‘sport’ like the other guys’ dads did. I still can’t hear that without feeling sick.”
As he talked, his breathing sped up. His grip on her hand tightened. She could feel his fear. He never hesitated, though. She admired his courage as she listened to his story.
• • •
As he told her, he could see it so clearly in his head. He felt like it was happening again.
Dean stood in his yard waving at Jack and Burke as the school bus pulled away. When it was gone, he went inside. At the front door, he hesitated.
He knew that sound. From inside, he could hear his mother arguing with Kevin. His stomach sank. His mom and dad had yelled a lot before his dad had moved to his own house. He didn’t want Kevin to move. He liked Kevin. Not as much as he loved his dad, but he did like him.
He went inside and headed toward the kitchen. That was where they were. He could hear them.
“I’m not taking Dean away from his home!”
“Leave him with his father, then!”
He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop. He got in trouble for it all the time. He figured it was okay, though, because he really wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying. He was watching them.
His mother’s face was all red. She turned red a lot when she was mad. Kevin was really mad too. He was yelling and moving across the kitchen. Dean wanted to run to his mom, but he was too scared to move. He felt like his feet were glued to the floor.
“You’re going with me! You are mine!” Kevin screamed.
His mother ran for the phone, but he beat her to it. He jerked it out of the wall with one tug. It was so wrong. He was a normal guy. Kevin wasn’t big enough to be that strong.
Dean was thinking about running to a neighbor’s house when Kevin threw the phone. It smacked his mother upside the head. Dean ran into the room and lunged at Kevin. He didn’t reach him.
Kevin punched him in the face. The pain blurred his vision and made his eyes water. It was like when Jack accidentally hit him too hard or scrawny Kalvin actually landed a punch while they wrestled. It was a shooting, aching pain that hurt all over, not just where he had been hit.
From the floor where he fell, he saw his mom attack Kevin. She was screaming and slapping him, but it didn’t do any good. She wound up on the floor across from him. Kevin followed her to the floor with a knife.
The first stab he made, Dean didn’t know what he was seeing until he heard his mother’s awful scream. It was agonizing to hear. He pushed himself off the floor and tried to pull Kevin off his mother. Kevin punched him in the stomach. When he fell to the floor again, Kevin grabbed his hair and slammed his head into the floor.
“It’s your fault! It’s all your fault!”
Each time his head hit the floor, Kevin screamed at him. The pain was overwhelming. The pulling of his hair wasn’t as painful as the slam of the back of his skull into the tiled floor of the kitchen, but it still hurt. His stomach heaved with every gasp for air. Kevin’s eyes bored into him. The crazed look in them was something he would never forget.
His mother’s low moan made Kevin stop. He looked at her, then at Dean, and back at her. Kevin moved off Dean and back to his mother. Her scream was the last thing he heard.
“That’s the last thing I remember until my dad got there,” he finished. Dean looked at Payten to see her reaction. Tears ran down her face. He let go of her hand to brush the tears from her cheeks. “Oh, Payten. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
She waved away his concern. “How did your dad know?”
“He was
coming to pick me up for the weekend.”
“What happened when your dad got there?” she asked.
“I remember him walking into the kitchen. I think it was the first time he’d been in the house since the divorce. He had this look of horror. He let out this gut-wrenching noise and sank down on the floor. I was clinging to Mom, and he was trying to pull me away. I don’t remember how he made me let go, but I remember him carrying me outside.
“The next thing I remember after that is waking up lying in bed at my grandma’s house. Luke was there. He wasn’t supposed to be. He ran over from his house, climbed a tree, and slipped in the window.”
Her laugh was watery.
“That’s Luke,” he said. “Always there when you need him.”
“That sounds like him.”
He nodded. “The nightmares started that night.”
“Every night?”
“No. Thank God.”
“Do you always react the way you did last night?”
“I can wake up in a cold sweat with my heart pounding. Sometimes, I wake up screaming or crying. Or puking,” he said. “That happens too. It doesn’t really matter because I don’t go back to sleep after a nightmare anyway.”
“You went back to sleep last night.”
“And I woke up from it okay. Maybe you’re good for me.” He said it teasingly, but he knew it was true.
“Maybe. Does anyone else know about the nightmares?”
“My dad knew when I was a kid. My grandparents too. I don’t think any of them know I still have them. I think Luke knows, but he doesn’t say anything.”
“Is that why you live by yourself instead of with the other guys?”
“That definitely adds to it.” He paused for a minute, then shuddered. “Can you imagine living in a house with Kalvin, Jack, Jonah, and Luke though? I mean, really?”
She laughed. “Not really.”
They were quiet for a moment.
“Next hand?” she asked.
“I’m all out of deep, dark secrets for you to pry out of me,” he teased.
“Dean!”
“I was joking.”
“Your sense of humor is awful! I should have known you were too perfect. Good looking, own a house, steady — well sort of steady — income, can cook. Of course you would have a fatal flaw. And it’s your terrible sense of humor.” She gave him a playful push.
“You think I’m good looking?”
She pushed him again. “I think you’re gorgeous, you silly man.”
He stood up and scooped her into his arms. She squealed. “Oh, God, don’t drop me.”
“Drop you? You think I’m going to drop you? First you insult my sense of humor. Now you insult my strength. Would you like to take any other pokes at my manhood?”
She giggled.
“What?”
She shook her head.
“What’s so funny? If you don’t tell me, I’ll drop you.”
She hesitated, but when he faked dropping her, she squealed again. “Manhood! You said manhood. Too many romance novels for you. For God’s sake, don’t drop me.”
He grinned. “Like I would. Manhood, huh?”
She giggled again. “Stop saying that!”
He carried her toward the bedroom. As he reached the door, the phone rang.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled.
She laughed and squirmed for him to put her down. “You need to answer that.”
He set her on her feet and went for the phone. “What?”
“Hello to you too,” Officer Smith snarled.
“What is it now?”
“Break-in at the diner,” she answered. “You need to come to town.”
“Are you sure?”
“That’s what the chief ordered. Call if you have a problem,” she instructed.
“No cell phones.”
There was some more snarling on the other end of the phone. “Just get here.”
He tossed the phone onto the couch. “Grab your shoes. We’re headed for town.”
“Why?”
“He broke into the diner,” he said.
“Shit,” she muttered, going for her shoes.
• • •
Fear, shock, dismay. She felt them all. Looking at the damage done to the diner, she wanted to cry.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Officer Chase suggested. She took Payten’s arm and steered her toward a stool at the counter.
“How could this happen?” Across the room with his father and Burke, Dean was pissed. She could tell before he’d started yelling. “How could nobody notice?”
From his ranting, she knew his concern wasn’t for the diner. The red paint splashed across the walls and floor didn’t seem within his notice. He didn’t scream about the broken windows or the shattered dishes scattered throughout. All he cared about were the photographs.
Dozens of them littered the round table, the booths, and the front counter. Some were black-and-white photographs. Others were in color. As far as they could tell, there was only one copy of each. The only thing all the photographs had in common was the person in them.
Her.
Scenes from the past week stuck out at her. The first time Dean kissed her. Her walking down the sidewalk in front of the diner holding his hand while he carried her new phone. Her standing on the Hendrix’s porch while she’d waited for someone to answer.
The photograph she held in her hands shook her the worst. It had been taped to the inside of the front door. The photograph showed her sitting in her office at her computer. It had been taken from outside her house.
She remembered it. It was the night she slept in her bathroom. The nerve she had to work up to step close enough to close the curtain in her office had seemed silly at the time. Now she knew she’d been right. He’d been watching her.
She felt herself shake with fear.
“It’s all right, Payten,” Officer Chase assured her. “You’re safe right now.”
“Dean,” she called. Officer Chase was trying to comfort her. She knew it and appreciated it. It simply wasn’t cutting it. “Dean.”
He stopped arguing with his father and came to her. He frowned when he saw the photograph in her hands. Prying it out of her grip, he threw in down on the counter behind her before wrapping his arms around her.
“It’s going to be fine. They’re going to catch this bastard.”
She fought back tears. Not going to cry. Not going to cry. Cried last time. Not going to cry.
“Found it,” Officer Rykers called from the kitchen.
“Did not,” Officer Smith protested as they came into sight. “I found it.”
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Found what?” Chief Whitley asked.
“Another note?” Burke asked.
“Not exactly,” Officer Rykers replied.
Payten wiggled out of Dean’s grip.
Officer Rykers stepped around the counter into the dining room. Officer Smith followed him. She stepped in front of him when they reached the round table. Gently, she pushed some of the photographs there away to clear a spot. Officer Rykers laid the photograph he carried in the cleared area.
Payten had to see what it was. It probably wasn’t her best idea, but she had to see it. Wondering about what it was would leave her more scared than if she knew.
She moved to the table to see it. She had to push her way through the four officers crowded at the table. Dean hadn’t followed her. He stayed by the counter.
She stared at the photograph on the table. She had expected a threat against her. After all, that seemed to be the idea behind the past week’s many nightmares.
Instead, the photograph showed Dean coming out of the police station. A red X had been drawn across his chest.
Unable to move away from the photograph, she looked over her shoulder at Dean. Everything inside her tightened. What if something happened to him? She’d only just found him. She couldn’t lose him. She wouldn’t.
She whirled to face Chief Whitley. “What the hell is taking so long?” she raged. “Why can’t you find this son of a bitch?”
“Payten — ”
“I don’t want excuses! I just want you to do your damn job!”
She stormed through the diner and out the back door. If she lost Dean, there would be hell to pay.
Chapter Seventeen
He sat quietly in the empty storage room. He needed privacy for this next step of his plan, and the storage room provided it. No one would look for him there.
He hadn’t anticipated so many changes to his original plan. He had expected some, of course. Part of success was flexibility. This many changes, though, he couldn’t have predicted.
It all started with the discovery of the little bastard’s girlfriend. Of course, he had a girlfriend. Why hadn’t he expected that? The fucking Whitley men had always been popular with women, and even at ten, his stepson showed signs of the famous Whitley charm.
How else had he been able to make his mother love him more than her husband?
Making that little snot pay by attacking his girl before killing him had been a brilliant addition to the plan. Killing him was still the end result, but he’d suffer more before that happened. He deserved to hurt.
The thought of the ransacked diner made him smile. He wished he could have seen it for himself, but he could imagine it. He even had a copy of the picture of his stepson back in his room. At night, when no one else could see, he took it out and studied it.
His stepson had grown into a big son of a bitch. He looked like his fucking father.
Shaking off the anger at both Whitley men — discipline, he reminded himself — he pulled the contraband cell phone from his pocket. He had one call. One call, then the phone would be destroyed. He’d have to get rid of his picture as well. They were bound to search his room once his call was discovered.
He smiled. It would be so worth it. He pushed the button to place his call.
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, Payten managed to sneak out of Dean’s room without waking him. When they’d finally gotten home the night before, they’d gone to bed. They hadn’t discussed who was sleeping where. She’d gone through her nightly routine in the bathroom and headed for his bed. Several minutes later, he lay down beside her. He’d pulled her close, and within minutes, she’d been sound asleep.
