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In My Custody

Page 10

by Stella Marie Alden


  “Hey, babe. You okay?”

  My God. That’s the best I got?

  Her eyes flick up for a second then focus on her meal so I try again. “I thought you said you weren’t hungry.”

  She slowly wipes the fiery sauce from her lips with a paper napkin. After swallowing, she chugs some iced tea all the while glaring bullets at me. “I want to go home, Andrew.”

  “Not happening.” Her tone pisses me off. Hadn’t I put my mom in danger just to keep her safe? This is the thanks I get?

  “I’m your client. You work for me. Take me home or I swear I’ll figure it out on my own.” She hasn’t got the funds but I’m too smart to say so.

  “What is up with you?”

  “With me?” She stands, slides out from under the picnic table and places ten red fingers on my pristine white shirt. “Just leave me alone. Call Jack if you must. Go.”

  “Sienna…”

  “Go or I swear I’ll start screaming.”

  Shit. “Fine.”

  “Fine.” With my teeth clamped so hard my jaw aches, I reach for my cell phone in my back pocket and text Jack. Let him deal with her.

  Me: We’re at the diner. Can you cover?

  Jack: Status?

  Me: All good. Tell u when u get here.

  Jack: Give me 5

  If I were to give my emotional status, it would be all fucked to hell.

  I put my phone back in my pocket only to meet those piercing blue eyes throwing daggers across the picnic table.

  “Jack is on his way.”

  “Good.” She’s still scowling when he jumps out of his rental car, pistol tucked into the front of his jeans.

  “What’s up?” Intelligent eyes assess the situation between me and Sienna. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to see we’re furious.

  “Just a change of plans. If you take the first shift, I’ll cover the last.” My jaw ticks as I unclench the fist I didn’t even know I was holding.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “She overheard me telling my mom I started some paperwork for Wit-Sec.” A bit of a prick, I walk Jack out of earshot and point at her so she knows damn well I’m talking about her.

  “Dude, did you explain?”

  “I tried. She’s impossible. She’s been in this funk since meeting my mom who’s been nothing but nice to her.”

  “Whoaa… That’s not like her. Back up. Exactly what did you say?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I said something like, ‘Mom, this is Sienna. She’s my client.’”

  Jack rolls his eyes. “You’re not fucking serious, are you?”

  “What?”

  “Jeesh, dude. You slept with her. I might even venture to say you’re serious about her. Then, you bring her down south to meet your dear sweet momma and introduce her as your client. Hell, I’d be pissed, too. Think, Quinn.”

  Was it possible this was my fault?

  Jack is on a roll. “Listen, if she was just a quick fuck, tell her. She’ll be angry but get over it. What you don’t do to a woman is make them think there’s more then pull the rug out from under them. Go on and figure it the fuck out because if you don’t want her, I sure as hell am standing in line. Best you let me know before the evening’s out.”

  Me and Jack have been through a lot and as I live and breathe, I know he’d never make moves on my woman. He’s just trying to get my blood boiling, which works. He’s still hoping to engage a few of my brain cells as he saunters to the picnic table and sits next to Sienna, thighs touching.

  For the longest time I sit in my car watching them talk, so fucking jealous, I hate myself. When she dumps her papers in the trash, I get out of my mom’s truck and approach with my arms open, palms up. “Sienna. Look at me.”

  Big blue eyes meet mine. Instead of adoration, they flash with anger and maybe a hint of hurt, too.

  “Can we talk?” I take one of her lovely hands in mine, encouraged when she doesn’t take it back.

  She looks to Jack who, damn him, nods. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

  Something deep in my chest growls and suddenly I want to kill one of my best friends. She sees my inner-Neanderthal, pulls her hand out of my grasp, and walks beside me as we head down the county road, nothing but knee-high corn for miles.

  “You wanted to talk, so do it.”

  “I screwed up. I’m sorry.” I don’t generally apologize and I have no idea if I’m doing it right.

  “Sorry for what?” Her eyebrows go up as she cocks her head.

  Fuck. This must be some kind of woman-test. “I should’ve told you about witness protection before filling out the paperwork.”

  “Damn right you-”

  “Hold on, there. It was the only way to keep the district attorney from arresting you.”

  “How convenient. After you’re through with me, there’s no strings attached. You go your way, I go into oblivion.”

  Her cold tone stops me in my tracks and I stare, dumbfounded. “How can you say such a thing? After what we shared?”

  She snorts. “You fucked your client so guess I’m paid in full, now.”

  Because she thinks so little of me and of her, I see red. “Jack’s in the lot. My mom’s made dinner. I’ll make apologies for you.”

  I turn my back to her, my stupid insides bleeding all over the road. I think my eyes may be wet and it pisses me off so bad I scratch my face with my watch band.

  This is what I get for breaking my rules.

  When I get in the truck, my phone rings and it’s my Mom. “Dinner will be ready soon. Are Jack and the young lady coming?”

  “Ah, no. Sorry. It’s just me and you tonight. I’ll be home in a bit.”

  On the drive back, I call my happily married brother for some advice. “Hey, CJ.”

  “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  “What? I can’t just call you?” I turn into my mother’s driveway, turn off the key, and sit, banging my head on the steering wheel.

  This is reminiscent of his situation a few years back. If I wasn’t so damn miserable, I’d laugh. “I fucked up.”

  He must hear my pain because his voice takes on a serious edge. “Woman trouble?”

  “Yeah. The girl you insisted I help the other night.”

  “Ah, so I see. This is my fault, is it?”

  “If the foo shits…”

  He laughs at our childhood joke then there’s silence on the other line while he thinks about what to say. Unlike me, he’s a man of few words.

  “Is she the one?”

  “She makes me fucking crazy. Turns my world upside down. I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

  “You tell her you love her?”

  I exhale out until my lungs empty. “We just met, bro. I didn’t want to scare her off. Instead, now I pissed her off. Not only that, I’m supposed to be her part-time bodyguard. Me and Jack are taking shifts.”

  “How about you roll back to the beginning. Tell me everything.”

  I bring him up to speed. “…so I brought her to Mom’s. You know how everybody knows everybody else down here. I figured she’d be safe. The sheriff is keeping a close watch but even more so, the old busy-bodies. Mom’s whole church group is probably honing in with binoculars as we speak.”

  A snort-chuckle comes from the speaker. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

  “Jack says I fucked up when I introduced Sienna as my client. But hell, I didn’t want the whole are-you-fornicating speech from Mom. Me and you are used to it but it’s embarrassing as hell.”

  “I get that, I really do. Just apologize.”

  “I tried to but there’s more. The DA insisted I start paperwork for witness protection. He’s got delusions of grandeur. I swear he’s picturing himself on the front page of The Times, bringing down the whole Buonanno crime family.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I feel like I lost the best thing to ever come into my life.”

  “Remember the night when you sent Mel a video of my drunken ass whinin
g at your kitchen table? Maybe I should return the favor.”

  “Fuck no. Don’t.”

  “Later, bro.”

  I hang up, mortified. That time was different. He and Mel were in love and just needed a gentle push. Sienna hates my guts. I text him but he just sends me kissy emojis.

  Fuck you too, CJ.

  I exit the car because my Mom has dinner ready. I’m not hungry but that’s no excuse to be rude.

  “Hey Mom.” I sit down in her kitchen, feeling even more like a dumb-ass teenager when she looks at me cross-eyed because I haven’t washed my hands.

  “Rather than argue how I wasn’t mucking shit or anything, I excuse myself, sit back down, and wait for her to finish saying grace.

  “So, Andrew. Tell me, did you have sex with your client?”

  “This is not a conversation I’m going to have with you, Mom. I’m a grown-ass man.”

  “Language.” She scowls.

  “Apologies.”

  “That’s better. I just wanted to know whether to make up one bed or two.”

  She already showed us two rooms so I know this is pure bullshit but if I want any peace in my life, it will be easier to answer her interrogation.

  “It’s complicated.” The spare ribs, which I generally love, stick in my throat, tasteless.

  “Love’s not complicated, son. Just tell her how you feel.”

  My eyes roll like they did when I was a kid. “Mom, we just met.”

  “Time has nothing to do with true love. Why, the minute I met your dad I knew he was the one.” She must see me flinch at the mention of him. “He was a good, good man. It was the Alzheimers that made him violent.”

  “I know.”

  “Relationships work, son, but it is hard work.”

  Relationships suck. “Can we not talk about this?”

  “Of course, dear. Just trying to help.”

  Chapter 14

  Sienna

  After my lawyer leaves, I stare into the cornfields, fists clenched.

  Witness protection? I mean so little to him? If he sends me away, I’ll never be able to sing again. I’d rather die from a bullet to the head. It’d be faster and less painful.

  I wait until Andy’s car squeals with the smell of burning rubber before starting to count. By the time I hit one hundred, I’m calm enough to face Jack who’s leaning on a black Ford SUV, studying me.

  At least he has the good sense not to say anything for a while. “You want to stay at the bed and breakfast tonight? I can get you a room.”

  I shake my head, no. “Mrs. Quinn is expecting me. It’s bad enough I’m missing her dinner.”

  “So, where do you want to go?” He opens the passenger door for me and I slide in.

  “Airport?”

  “Sorry, no can do.”

  “Is there a bar somewhere?”

  He glances at his phone. “Not sure if there’s one open yet but we can try.”

  He rounds the front of the car and gets behind the wheel. Why does my stupid heart always go for the wrong guy? Why can’t it fall for someone like Jack?

  I try to convince the lady-lips between my legs but they’re like, ho-hum. Jack is a sweet, handsome, caring guy but no thanks.

  That settled, I need to burn off steam but not dressed like this. “Can you take me to a second-hand store? I need to find something to wear.”

  “Sure.” He fools around with his phone for a while, then drives. I wait for the lecture about what a nice guy Andy Quinn is but it never comes. I’m almost disappointed because I got a whole list of rebuttals just bursting.

  Reason one why Andy is not a nice guy; he slept with me and broke my heart. We’ll call that reasons two and three, as well. Then, he brought me home to his mother and introduced me as his client.

  And? And? He filled out paperwork so I’ll be all alone forever.

  “This sucks.”

  Jack glances over, not really paying attention. “The south? I suppose so, if you’re used to the city.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.” I pout and it’s not pretty.

  “I am not getting in between the two of you.”

  “Nothing to get in between, obviously.” My teeth grind in the back, making my jaw ache. Neither one of us feels like talking so there’s awkward silence until he pulls into a parking lot.

  “I’ll wait here.” He points at a warehouse with a plywood sign, the words, ma’s thrift, hand-painted in red.

  Inside, the aroma of mothballs almost makes me leave but there’s a nice lady at the front of the store with a kind smile.

  “I need a dress-”

  “They’re right there, honey.”

  I walk to the rack and sigh. Most everything would look lovely on someone about eighty.

  After searching in vain, I walk to the men’s rack and find a torn pair of button-down blue jeans. I score cowboy boots from a pile of kids’ shoes. I’ll top off the look with a black wife-beater and a man’s checkered shirt.

  For ten bucks. I’m ready to paint the town red.

  After the woman closes the drawer of the old-fashioned cash register, I ask, “Can I borrow some scissors?”

  She’s fascinated while I tear some holes in the jeans, cut the tank top to just above my waist, and head into the changing room.

  When I exit, she laughs and throws a cowboy hat in for free. “Happy hunting.”

  I know what she means and maybe she’s right. It’s high time to teach a certain lawyer he’s got no ropes on me. I may not be good enough to be introduced as his girlfriend. So be it. If I’m stuck here in the boonies, at least I’m going to have some fun.

  When I get in the car, Jack shakes his head back and forth, mouth turned down.

  “What?” I glance down at my perfectly fine attire.

  “I should take you home.”

  “To New York?”

  “Dammit, no. Home to sweet Mrs. Quinn where she’ll feed you apple pie and tuck you in for the night.” His eyes get darker. I’ve never seen Jack so angry. “I get how you need to blow off a little steam. Just promise me not to do anything stupid.”

  “Like go home with a man?” My chin juts forward a little. I don’t like my bodyguard treating me like a child.

  “I wouldn’t want to have to bail Quinn out of jail for killing whoever took you home. C’mon. Let’s go.”

  I’d feel really awful for pissing off Jack if I wasn’t dead set on having a good time.

  We don’t drive far and he stops in a lot where there’s only two other cars. Inside, the bar couldn’t be deader unless it was the funeral home across the street.

  “You did this on purpose.” I throw my hat on a bench and scowl.

  “I swear to God, I didn’t. This is the only place in town.” Again, he finds his phone, the Gospel according to Jack, and shows me Google Maps.

  “Fine.” I march over to a young blond tending the bar. “Hi. I’m from out of town. Where can I go to find some music and dancing?”

  She looks up at Jack. “He not showing you a good time?”

  “Not yet.” I wink at him for her benefit. “He needs to be dancing, then his hands will be all over me.”

  Her laugh is infectious. “Well, there’s a place the next town over. Give me your phone.” She types in an address. “There’s karaoke and a grand prize of two hundred bucks. I’ll be working there after my shift ends here.”

  “Wow. Pulling doubles?”

  She shrugs as she cleans the top of the bar with a rag. “Bills to pay. You know how it is.”

  I high-five her. “Right there with ya. I got a negative balance in my checking account. I’m hoping the contest might be just the ticket.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Back at the table, I pick up my hat and show Jack the address on my phone. “We’re out of here.”

  He glares at the girl behind the bar who flips him the bird. Ha! Obviously, Jack had a different evening in mind and she ruined it.

  For the first time
since my dead husband came back to life, I’m excited to be going out. After passing dozens of farms, churches, and turkey shoots, we pull up to an old barn where there’s about fifty cars parked in a muddy field.

  I hop down from the SUV, suddenly wishing Andy was there instead of Jack who looks like he may strangle me before night’s end. “Stay close.”

  “Aren’t you being a little paranoid? All I can see is a bunch of young people, having fun.”

  “Maybe you’re clueless.” His Adam’s apple bobs and his jaw ticks.

  “Then why let me come?”

  “Sometimes a person needs to let off steam.” He nods in the direction of the barn door and when we get there, opens it for me.

  As I enter, I eye his warrior stance, his muscles, his tats. “I doubt you ever had someone take advantage of you.”

  A derisive snort gets directed at me. “Give the man a break. When it comes to women, Andy’s a bit… slow.”

  He can’t be serious. “Slow? He’s a brilliant lawyer-”

  “You know what, Sienna? Since I’ve known Quinn, he’s never dated a woman more than once.” His brows raise at my surprise. “You may be a bit too intense for him to handle.”

  “And just what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, really. Call it an observation. Sit.” He picks the only open bar stool and stands behind me, arms crossed, daring anyone to come close.

  Whatever, when I’m ready, I’ll dance. However, the bartender passes around a clipboard and I remember the contest. When it gets close, I take it and pen in my name.

  After looking over the list of country songs, I grin. “Ah hah! I got this.”

  Jack grunts, totally in bodyguard zone so I ignore him as I nurse my beer.

  Like with fingernails on a blackboard, I cringe as person after person picks up the mic and sings out of tune at the top of their lungs. Finally, a young man with a lot of talent sings You Make it Easy by Jason Aldean. The lyrics about a man loving a woman makes my eyes water and throat tight. What would it be like to be loved like that?

  I’m so lost in the song, I almost forget why I’m there. I’m also a bit worried. The competition just got fierce.

  “Sienna Giles? Come on up here, little lady.” I curtsey to a couple wolf whistles in the audience as I walk toward the microphone. The horns play the introduction, the background singers woot-woot, and I belt, “What you want?”

 

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