Retaliate

by Kristin Harte

  “Oh, Katie. I’m sorry. This place is great—I know it’d do well if all this weren’t going on.”

  “Me too. And it’s why I moved back—to get a chance to do something in town. I spent my teenage years running away from here every chance I could get because there was nothing, you know? And then I really did run—my mom and I moved to Denver, so I finished school there. But after she died, I wanted to set up shop and serve the community where I’d grown up, just like the Bell family does over at Bell’s Hardware. I wanted to fill an opening in town, but I might not make it if customers don’t show up.” She tossed a towel on the counter, sighing and shaking her head. “If I could maybe get everyone in town here at once—”

  “You should have a grand opening party.” The words fell from my lips without thought, but they felt right. Too many years working the Strip and hoping to get my name recognized had left me with a strong intuition about what would attract a crowd. Alder Kennard wanted people in groups to keep them safe? We could give him one big group. “Something fun and super family friendly. Like when the mill used to put on the fall festival. Do they still do that?”

  Katie shrugged, though I could see the excitement brimming in her eyes. “I’m not sure. I just moved back this spring, but with the Soul Suckers issue, I don’t know if they will this year.”

  “You should push for that, see if the Kennards will allow a fall festival right here at The Baker’s Cottage to give your restaurant a boost. I’ll do what I can to help if I’m still in town.”

  She grabbed my hand, her big brown eyes locked on mine. “Would you do a show here? Like, a walking tarot card reading or something? I’ve seen you on YouTube—you’re amazing, and I bet everyone in town would come to see you perform.”

  Humility forced me to shrug as if her words didn’t bring me joy. I’d worked hard to get to where I was—had given up everything so I could focus on a career I had never even dreamed possible. I was proud of how far I’d come, even if the thrill of being in front of a crowd had faded over the years.

  Even if I’d give it all up in a second to get back what I’d lost.

  Which was something I wouldn’t be admitting out loud. “I’d be happy to perform here if you want me to. I only have about a week in town, though.”

  “I want, I want—and I can totally work with your schedule. Oh, this will be wonderful!” Katie bounced on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands as she babbled on about themes and plans and what dishes she could make. I sat and finished my stew, basking in the joy she radiated. After so many days of dreariness and pain, it was a nice change.

  One that collapsed into a cold, hard ball of regret when the bell over the door dinged again.

  Finn Kennard. The man who’d made a decision as a teenager that had sent my life skittering sideways, destroying so much. Taking everything away from me, more than even he knew. My former best friend stood there, looking so much older than the last time I’d seen him. More haggard in some ways. Harder. And damn, did I want to hug him and punch him in the face at the same time.

  “I heard you were in town.” He approached me warily, slowly, each step precise. I turned on my stool and did my best to smile. I hadn’t seen him since right after that last day we’d spent in the woods of the east ridge. He’d come to apologize for what had happened, but I’d slammed the door in his face. And then I’d left town.

  He’d written me countless letters while he was in prison, all full of apologies and regret. All obviously him trying to work his twelve steps to recovery. I’d torn up each one and flushed the pieces down the drain. Too flooded with guilt and pain and rage to acknowledge them. Until the last one—the letter he’d written when he’d gotten out. The one that said he’d never forgive himself for what he’d done. The one that said he wished he could go back in time so he could relive that day a different way. I wished for the same thing, though for reasons he wasn’t even aware of. Things I’d hidden away after that day. But all the wishing in the world wouldn’t bring back what I’d lost. Time couldn’t be erased, and my decisions had been my own, no matter how much I still wanted to blame someone for the results of them.

  I’d written back a simple, handwritten card that said, “I can forgive you for your actions, but I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Since I’d promised forgiveness, I figured I’d at least have to try. Starting immediately.

  “You’re looking good, young man.”

  His grin exploded across his face, making him appear ten years younger. “Not as good as you, hot stuff.”

  “Aw, there goes that Kennard charm, working me over again.”

  His gait stuttered, and his smile dropped just a little. An icy chill spread through my chest, the pain it brought nearly stealing my breath. That Kennard charm had worked me over before, too. Bishop’s. But it wasn’t the time for thoughts like that, especially with Katie looking on.

  “Seriously. How are you, Finn?” He looked clean to me; I certainly hoped he was clean.

  “I’m okay,” he said, rolling his eyes when I cocked my head. “Promise. I’m doing fine. How are you handling everything? I’m so damn sorry to hear about Miss.”

  Hearing her name, being reminded of my loss, was like an icicle to the heart—cold and painful. “I’m doing okay, considering.”

  “Yeah, it’s not easy. The death of my dad left me pretty wrecked for almost a year, so I get it. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

  I wouldn’t need anything from him, but I smiled anyway. “Of course. Thanks.”

  He looked beyond me, nodding. “Hey, Katie. Can I get a quart of the cream of chicken and a piece of whatever pie you’ve got? To go.”

  “Sure thing, Finn. Cream of chicken and lemon meringue, coming up.” She headed for the back, leaving us alone together for the first time in too many years to count. I couldn’t hold his gaze, couldn’t look in that face that had brought me so much happiness and pain. Couldn’t—

  “You should tell him.”

  The world stopped, stuttered. Came back to life again with me as a passenger, spinning too fast to get my bearings. To see straight. To do anything but whisper, “It’s too late for that.”

  “He’s my brother. I know him—it’s never too late when it comes to you.”

  Damn it, I wasn’t ready for that conversation. Wasn’t ready to even think of such things. Thankfully, I didn’t need to. Katie had perfect timing, walking through the door holding a brown paper bag with handles before I needed to reply.

  “Here you go, Finn.”

  He stepped away, reaching for the bag. “You’ve got my card on file?”

  “Yeah. Though, seriously—learn to carry a wallet.”

  He met my eyes again, serious. So damn haunted. “My memory’s not as good as it used to be.”

  Too bad mine was, which ruined what little appetite I had.

  “Katie, this was excellent.” I reached for my purse, but Finn shook his head.

  “Add her lunch to mine.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” He grabbed his bag from Katie and headed toward the door, giving me room. Not letting me go just yet, though. “Let me walk you to your car.”

  I slid off the stool and smiled at the woman behind the bar, figuring she’d be gossiping about my interaction with the younger Kennard twin if she still had friends in town. “It was good to see you again, Katie. Let me know if there’s anything you need my help with for the grand opening party.”

  “I definitely will but not until after the funeral. You take your time to grieve.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Of course. And thanks for coming in.”

  Finn led me outside, holding the door like a gentleman. “I’m real sorry about Miss. Her death will leave a hole in this town for sure.”

  “Thanks. It’s so different up on that ridge without her, you know? Almost…eerie.”

  He pulled me to a stop, his hold gentle. Not demanding
in any way. “The ridge isn’t as safe as it once was. Can I… Will you give me your number so I can reach you if anything goes down?”

  Hesitancy, paranoia, being on edge and defensive… The reversed nine of wands card, making itself known. It wasn’t the time to make hasty judgments. Besides, this was Finn. Former best friend. Former confidant. And before the drugs took hold of him, one of the few people I actually trusted. We didn’t have to be friends, but having someone to reach out to other than Bishop was probably a good idea. “Sure. Of course.”

  He handed me his phone, and I quickly typed in my contact information before giving it back to him. He sent me a text right away with a fish emoji as the message. Something that made me smile again.

  “Smartass.”

  “Always.” He opened my car door for me, hanging on to the top of it as I slid into my seat. “Call me if you need anything. Anytime—doesn’t matter. I’ll be available. And be careful up there.”

  “I will.” I buckled my belt, waving one last time as he shut my door before walking toward an old, deep blue pickup truck. I could only describe seeing him as bittersweet—I was thrilled he seemed healthy, so glad he looked clean and sober. But his face still caused an ache within me, his presence making my anxiety stand up and scream. I’d lost everything because of one mistake, and Finn sat at the heart of it. I’d lost my family, my future, and my place in this town. I’d lost Bishop, too—quite likely the only man I would ever love.

  And there was no way I could ever get that back.

  Not after what I did.

  Not after what I had destroyed with Finn’s help.

  Chapter Six

  Bishop

  Twenty hours of silence. All of Wednesday night and Thursday without a single text or call. That’s what I got after leaving Anabeth behind on that mountain. Almost a full day of not hearing from her. My phone stayed in my hand for those long hours, my mind unable to stop focusing on that kiss, on the feel of her body wrapped around mine once more, the taste of her on my lips.

  But she’d shut down on me, told me she wanted nothing from me. So I’d given her nothing.

  I’d sped down the mountain road far too fast to be safe, pissed and hurt and feeling so fucking stupid. I’d seen that wall go up behind her eyes, had felt how she’d pulled away from me both physically and emotionally. She’d locked herself down tight, just like she used to when we were younger. Back then, I’d have stayed on that porch begging her to come out and talk to me until I wore her down or Miss made me leave.

  I wasn’t a teenager anymore.

  So I’d driven away, fuming as I’d pushed my truck to the limit down the highway. I’d refused to reach out to her in any way until she reached first.

  And I’d hated every fucking minute of it.

  But she’d finally texted me late Thursday night. Just a short message, one that had finally allowed me to breathe again.

  Sorry about yesterday. Being back here is hard.

  That was enough. I’d texted her back immediately, unable to wait another second.

  No worries. I’m here if you need me, and I’ll be there beside you at the funeral no matter what.

  Her smiley face reply with a quick thanks was all I’d needed to calm down and stop being such a cranky bastard, as Gage had called me throughout the day. I’d even headed to bed early after taking a long, hot shower. A shower where I jacked off twice to thoughts of Anabeth kissing me again, of her rubbing that hot little body all over mine. Of taking her to my bed and tasting every inch of her.

  Jesus, if I ever got to taste her again, I’d probably come in my pants like a teenager.

  But waking up to a text from Finn on Friday—one saying Katie and Anabeth were planning some sort of grand opening celebration for Katie’s restaurant and we’d need to work together to help them with setup—sent me right back to that pissed-off place.

  Once again, I raced along mountain roads, slipping and sliding through the downpour. This time, I headed to Alder’s place. No way was there going to be a party in town without him knowing all the ins and outs of it.

  My truck hydroplaned as I hit the end of his driveway, and it was only by sheer, dumb luck that I didn’t end up slamming into a tree. Maybe I should have just let the wheel go—let fate or whatever force seemed to drag me through life against the grain of what I thought I wanted take care of everything. But instead, I yanked on the wheel and turned into the skid, waiting for the tires to grab once more before finally hitting the brakes.

  I hurried through the rain, pounding across the porch and knocking on the door like my life depended on someone opening it. And I felt like a complete asshole when little Shye answered, her eyes wide and scared.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head, trying hard to rein in my frustration. “Nothing. I just need to talk to Alder.”

  She didn’t look as if she believed me—I couldn’t blame her for that. I was still breathing hard, standing on the doorstep soaking wet. Hell, if she believed my lie, I’d have to think she was stupid. And Shye Anderson was anything but stupid.

  “C’mon in,” she said, taking a step back. “He’s in the shower.”

  Well, shit. I hadn’t thought about the time when I’d rushed over on a workday. “I can come back later. Maybe just see him at the office.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She nudged me across the foyer and toward the open kitchen. “Want some coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot for your brother.”

  “That’d be great. Thanks.” I pulled off my coat, frowning down at the puddle I left behind on the pine floors. Shit, how long had I been outside? Long enough to be soaked to the bone, obviously, even though I’d only run from my door to my truck and my truck to Alder’s door. This rain seemed endless.

  As if Shye knew where my thoughts had gone, she grabbed my coat and headed for the garage. “There’s some sweat pants and T-shirts in the laundry room. Help yourself, and I’ll hang this up to dry a bit.”

  “Thank you, Shye.”

  She shrugged. “We’re practically family. That’s what family does.”

  Yeah, it was, but seeing her as family was new for me. Different. Alder had been single a long time, hadn’t really dated at all once he’d come back from the Army. But then he’d met Shye, and he hadn’t even looked at another woman for three long years as he waited for her to really notice him. I’d mocked him relentlessly about his obsession with her, but honestly? I was sometimes jealous of it. At least he could feel something for a woman. At least he’d gotten to see and talk to her, pine for her while keeping her in his sights. I’d been obsessing over a ghost for more than a decade, one who had run off and started a brand-new life without me. Still was. Likely always would be…and didn’t that just piss me right off?

  Once I’d changed and tossed my wet clothes into the dryer, I headed back to the kitchen. Shye stood with a mug in her hands, a matching one set in front of one of the stools at the island.

  “Thanks for this,” I said as I took a seat.

  “You looked like you needed something to warm you up.”

  Warm me up, cool down my temper…I needed all of it.

  “Alder said you went to Rock Falls to help set up the funeral arrangements for Miss Hansen.”

  I clutched the mug as I nodded, letting it warm my cold hands. Giving myself time to settle down a little.

  Shye shook her head, looking so very sad. “She was a real nice lady and a good neighbor to me when I lived up on that mountain.”

  “She was one of a kind and will be missed.”

  “I met her granddaughter yesterday.”

  My head snapped up, my attention focused fully on the little blonde across from me. Anabeth had been around town yesterday? “You did?”

  “At The Baker’s Cottage. She came in for lunch.”

  Of course—Katie’s restaurant would be new, the only big change to Main Street in a long time. Long enough for even Anabeth to realize it was different. Shye had been working at the restaur
ant a few hours a day to help out. She used to work over at the truck stop on the county line, but Alder hadn’t liked her being so far away and unprotected. Not since the Soul Suckers had come for her. Not since we all knew they would again.

  God, I hated the fact that Anabeth had been anywhere near the girl. A thought which both surprised me and made me feel like a real dick. It wasn’t Shye’s fault she had a giant target on her back calling to the men who’d murdered one of our own. But even knowing that, I still didn’t want Anabeth around her. Didn’t want my girl to run into any danger.

  I wanted her safe, which meant I’d fallen into the well of caring for her. The one I already knew I couldn’t get out of.

  Motherfucking perfect.

  “I think it’s great what they’re doing,” Shye continued, not knowing how much of an ass I felt like all of a sudden. “The email blast Katie sent about the grand opening was really slick and pretty—perfect for her place. Hopefully everyone will show up.”

  “She sent an email blast?” I hadn’t even checked my email this morning. Something I always did. That text from Finn had been the last thing I’d read before jumping into my truck.

  “I guess she figured that would be quickest. She’s working on a tight time frame to host this thing, what with Anabeth leaving so soon. I mean, if she’d just invited people from Justice, she could have told one of you to get the word out, but she’d wanted to invite people from Rock Falls as well. Spread the net for new customers, you know?”

  I did know. And I hated the idea because it would bring outsiders to town. But I couldn’t say that to Shye.

  Footsteps on the stairs saved me from trying to think up something to say. Alder strolled down to the main level wearing the same sort of baggy gray sweat pants I did, no shirt on, and his hair wet and slightly wavy. He barely even glanced my way before beelining for Shye and wrapping her in a huge hug.