Hard Charger: Jake & Sophia: A Hot Contemporary Romance

by Fobes, Tracy

  “Still...”

  Her mom stirred the spaghetti sauce a few more times and then faced Sophia squarely. “You met this Steve guy on the internet a year ago, and you say he’s your boyfriend, but I haven’t even met him yet. I wonder why.”

  “I told you, Steve lives down in El Paso. He’s going to fly up here as soon as he gets some money together.” Sophia noisily dropped her hands to the table. “Until then, it’s going to remain a long-distance romance.

  “At least with Jake, I know who you’re with.”

  “You prefer Jake to Steve?”

  Kat sighed. “I don’t like what Jake did to you ten years ago, but he was young then, and so were you. He’s a man now. Maybe you should give him a second chance. I’m saying that only because I remember how much you liked him. How strongly you felt about him.”

  “Mom, please. Stop giving me advice on romance. Let me figure it out.”

  “Oh, Sof. I just want what’s best for you. Every night, you’re here alone. You say Steve is your boyfriend, but I never see, and never see you with him. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

  Sophia nodded. She swallowed against a sudden lump in her throat. The truth was, she did feel lonely. And anxious. And scared. And she wanted Jake. Badly. He made the loneliness go away. When he kissed her and held her in his arms, she felt so cared for, so...loved. The sensation of comfort was so deep, she felt like she’d come home after a long, painful absence. And yet, she knew she couldn’t have him. At least not now. She didn’t dare drag him into her life now, not when she woke up every morning wondering if this was the day Koschei would figure out she was an FBI informant.

  Kat stirred the spaghetti. “This won’t take more than five minutes. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

  “Really, mom? You have to ask?” Sophia shrugged. “Go ahead. I’ll set the table.”

  She stood up and selected two plates, two glasses, and some silverware from the cabinets, and then arranged them on the table. She poured them both ice water, got the Parmesan cheese out of the refrigerator, and slid some napkins underneath the silverware. She was just getting a trivet out of the drawer when mom returned to the kitchen.

  Two lines of worry had etched themselves between Kat’s eyes. Still, her mom said nothing as she poured the spaghetti out and set in on the table. Sophia put the sauce on the table, and then they sat down to eat.

  For several moments the clink of forks against their plates was the only sound in the room. Sophia broke the silence by remarking on the beautiful sunset they’d had that night, and how the sun’s rays had stretched across the land to paint the ocean waves a deep purple.

  “You’re staying clean, right?” Kat said in response, and sprinkled some cheese on her spaghetti.

  Sophia froze, her fork half way to her mouth. “Why do you ask that?”

  Kat shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Just making sure.”

  “Yes, I’m staying clean.” Sophia finished lifting the fork to her mouth and chewed. “I said I would.”

  “I know.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “Oh, honey, I do.”

  Sophia frowned.

  “And your uncle’s people...you’re staying away from them?” Kat pressed.

  This time, Sophia put her fork down. Uneasiness robbed her of her appetite. She and her mom didn’t often talk about Kat’s brother. He’d been a low-level manager in the Russian mafia and had fallen out with Kat about twenty years earlier. Sophia knew her mom had refused all contact with him since that day. “Why would you ask me that?”

  “Honey, I worry about you,” Kat said softly. “You’re young. You’re vulnerable. I want you to stay safe. To be happy.”

  “Where is all of this coming from?”

  Her mother paused, and she seemed to be on the verge of saying something. And yet, she apparently changed her mind, because she simply began winding the spaghetti up on her fork once more.

  “Mom?”

  “I know you didn’t have an ideal situation, growing up,” Kat murmured, her eyes dark. “I know you needed a dad. I always did my best, though.”

  “I know you did,” Sophia agreed. A strange sense of guilt had joined her uneasiness. What had she done, to make her mother talk this way? “Why are you saying these things?”

  “I’m saying them because I love you,” her mom replied, and then focused on her dinner.

  Puzzled, Sophia did the same. They spoke no more about it for the remaining hour that Kat stayed, their conversation becoming more like every-day. Before her mom left, they hugged, with Sophia promising to work the morning shift again at the Mermaid; and then Sophia was alone, perplexed and apprehensive. It wasn’t until she returned to her bedroom that she discovered the likely source of her mother’s worry.

  The paper bag containing all of the prescription drugs she’d filled that day sat open, the bottles strewn about her bedspread.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jake sat at the bar at Rowdy Ray’s. He’d worked extra hours at the site today, and had just enough time for a quick couple of beers and a burger before he headed home. He and his Uncle Martin had been splitting the duty of keeping an eye on his mom, even though she complained bitterly about being too old to need a babysitter. As far as Jake was concerned, though, she didn’t have much of a choice in it. He wasn’t going to let anyone give her a second black eye to match the first.

  Jake sipped his beer and watched a DJ setting up in the corner of the room. Tonight was Quizzo night, and the roadhouse usually filled up pretty quickly. Already the bar was packed with twenty- and thirty-something Quizzo players, and Jake found himself jostled on both sides by college kids and locals alike. Flat-screen televisions were displaying a hockey game: the Devils versus the Flyers. He watched the game and, during the commercials, checked out the crowd for a certain woman with long, silky dark hair.

  Luke was tending the bar with Stephanie, the blond with the honey-gold tan. Stephanie was doing most of the talking—Luke had nothing to say to anyone and smiled even less. His sandy-blonde hair looked stiff and tangled, as if he hadn’t showered for a while, and dark circles created dark shadows beneath his eyes. He guessed that not only was Luke grieving for his dad, but still worrying about the money his dad had owed.

  Stephanie scooted closer to him, to work a nearby tap. As she was filling a tall glass of golden beer, she gave him a saucy little smile. “So, when are we going to go out on that date?”

  He returned her smile, though his was tinged with regret. “Work’s been a bitch lately...”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Her tone became chastising. “A few weeks back, you asked me to remind you.”

  “You’re right,” he admitted. She was cute. If only he could get Sophia out of his head—

  “You have a new girlfriend or something?” she asked with a mock pout.

  “No girlfriend, new or old. Just too many bills, and too much to do at work. But if things change—”

  “I’ll be the first to know, right?” she said, finishing his sentence for him.

  “You will, darlin’,” he drawled.

  She shook her head with pretend annoyance. “You and Luke. Neither of you know how to have fun. Though Luke has a good reason for it.”

  “That he does,” he agreed, as Stephanie moved down the bar to take another customer’s order.

  Jake looked more closely at Luke and realized that his friend had lost weight. His chest tightened with sympathy. He signaled Luke for another beer. When Luke filled a glass with Fat Lip Ale and slid it down the bar a few feet to Jake, Jake waved for him to come over.

  “How are you doing, man?” Jake asked. “I’ve hardly seen you these last few weeks.”

  “I have a lot on my plate now.” Luke shrugged. “The restaurant keeps me busy, along with a few other things.”

  “It can’t be easy.”

  “It sure as shit isn’t.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “Thanks, man.
Right now, though, I just gotta sort things out.”

  Jake nodded with understanding, then turned the subject to Rowdy Ray. “How’s the investigation going? Have the police gotten anywhere?”

  Luke’s face tensed. “They haven’t done much. Detective Fielding says he’s run down all of the leads, but he has nothing to show for any of them.”

  Jake rubbed his hand wearily against his forehead. “Damn. That really sucks. You’d think they would have found something by now.”

  “The State Police have been working the case too. I keep hoping that something turns up. But so far, nada.”

  “And so you’re just waiting,” Jake observed. “I’m not surprised.”

  “Why?”

  “I went to the police myself. Got nowhere.”

  Luke’s eyes widened. “You went to the police? Why?”

  Jake edged a little closer to his friend, so he could speak more softly and still be heard. “I had to. My mom, she’s in trouble.”

  “Oh, your mom. Yeah, I know.” Luke shook his head. “We were talking about it last night.”

  Surprised, Jake pulled back a few inches. He didn’t like the idea that his family troubles had become common knowledge, to be discussed around the proverbial water cooler. “We?”

  “The Guardians.”

  “Jesus.” Lips tight, Jake nodded slowly. “My uncle, right? He was airing the family’s dirty laundry.”

  “Martin was just looking for ideas,” Luke said. “We’re a small, closed group. We don’t talk about anything said in the clubhouse.”

  “You’re talking now,” Jake pointed out, breathing faster.

  Luke sighed. “Take it easy. You’re like my brother, Jake. I’m not going to be spreading rumors about you all over town.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jake frowned and looked down at his hands. “This situation with my mom, it really has me upset.”

  “Well, you can’t go to the police. That’ll just get you into trouble,” Luke warned him.

  “They’re corrupt,” Jake clarified, glancing up at Luke once again.

  “Not the whole force, but a few of them, yes. The ones that matter.”

  “How do I protect her, then, if not the police?”

  “You know there’s an alternative.”

  Jake frowned. “What alternative?”

  “You want to learn more?”

  “Hell, yeah.” Jake lightly pounded his fist against the table. “Those bastards who visited my mom...I want to stick my foot so far up their asses that they never walk again. But what’s the alternative?”

  Luke gazed at him rather than reply.

  Jake stared back, and then the reason for Luke’s sudden reticence hit him. He smiled, but he was far from laughing. “Let me guess. You want me to join the Guardians.”

  “Meet me here tomorrow night, around eight o’clock. On your bike. I’ll get Stephanie to close.”

  “Really?” Jake cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t have time for a ride.”

  “I do for this ride. Are you going to meet me?”

  “Yeah. Why not.” Jake shrugged. “It won’t cost me anything to listen.”

  Luke smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

  Jake finished his burger and ordered one more beer. The roadhouse continued to fill up as Quizzo got underway, and he quickly found his personal space invaded by a crush of people ordering beers, talking, and trying to fill out the spaces on the Quizzo answer sheet. When his beer arrived, he decided it would be his last, and quickly went to work on it.

  “The pathfinder spacecraft landed on what planet in 1997?” the Quizzo DJ asked, and a rush of murmuring built as the players tried to secretly discuss possible answers.

  Jake pushed back in his seat and allowed his gaze to roam over the bar. He wasn’t that old himself, but he couldn’t get over the idea that everyone in the bar looked younger than him, and seemed so damned innocent. Maybe he felt this way because they were all smiling, and seemed so carefree—they were laughing and drinking and acting like a Quizzo win was the most important thing on earth. Or maybe his combat experience, and the emotional scars it had left him with, had aged him to the point where he felt he had nothing in common with people only a few years younger. Whatever the case, he suddenly felt completely out of place.

  Until his gaze fell upon two men sitting in a booth near the back of the room, eating dinner.

  Both looked older, in their forties and fifties maybe. One was short and overweight, with small eyes lost in his face, a receding hairline, and a chin-strap beard. The other looked big—hulking, even—with thick wavy brownish hair, deep set eyes, and a long face like a bloodhound’s. As if sensing his regard, the two men looked up and stared directly at Jake. Their gazes met.

  Jake sensed the hostility in their stares. After a moment, he looked away to glance over at Stephanie. When she saw him looking her way, she walked over. “Another beer?”

  “Nah, I’m done. Just need to settle up.” He nodded his head toward the older men. “You know those guys?”

  Stephanie stared at them for a moment, then shook her head. “Nope.” She picked up a few nearby empty glasses and moved away to get his check.

  Jake shot one more glance at Ugly and Uglier, saw that they were still looking toward him. The bigger of the two had pulled his cell phone and was now talking to someone, his attention remaining on Jake.

  Jake tensed. Something felt off. He didn’t like the way those two men were looking at him. He finished off his beer. He stood up, said goodbye to Luke and Stephanie, and went outside. Then he paused a second, a gut instinct telling him to wait. To listen.

  He heard the sound of the door opening behind him. In the periphery of his vision, he saw two large shapes hesitating in the roadhouse doorway.

  The fact that they were leaving right behind him bothered him. There might be a hundred reasons why two large men would exit the roadhouse at the same time as he, but none of them seemed to bring reassurance. His suspected he had a problem. Two big ones, in fact.

  He’d parked his bike in the parking lot outside of Rowdy Ray’s beneath a tree. The tree created deep shadows that the waning moonlight did little to dispel. If he made it to those shadows, he’d disappear, too. He walked across the grass in that direction, noting in the reflection from a car parked nearby that the two men left when he did, and seemed to be following him.

  The moment his feet hit the paved parking lot he began to run.

  The two men immediately gave chase.

  His adrenaline pumping, he quickly worked himself into a sprint. Rather than go for his bike, he zigzagged through the parking lot and then raced out into the street. His bike was no longer an option for escape. The men weren’t going to give him time to start the bike and get away. He would have to lose them first, and then come back for his bike later.

  His heart pounding, he heard their footsteps thumping behind him. They weren’t giving up.

  He turned away from the ocean and ran up Shoreside Road. He was heading toward Jersey Avenue and the train tracks. He pulled his smart phone out of his pocket as he ran and pressed his thumb against the sensor to unlock it. The phone balked—it wouldn’t read his fingerprint. He cursed beneath his breath and shoved it back into his jeans pocket.

  All around him, windows glowed with light. People inside their homes were settling down for the night. Out on the street, though, he was alone. He careened around two aluminum trash cans, sending them flying. Dogs set up a hail of agitated barking. A porch light went on.

  He hurtled through a back yard and pulled a sheet off a clothesline. Still running, he shook the sheet off as he emerged onto Centre Avenue. He ran as though his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

  His mind raced too. Ugly and Uglier hadn’t looked like star athletes. Still, they were keeping up with him. It forced him to revise his opinion of them. They looked soft, but they were as hard as nails. They were used to this kind of thing, this chase. By now, Jake had a good idea who they were: foot sol
diers in the Russian mafia. And he also knew why they were chasing him: They had recognized him as Laurie Gallent’s son and had decided to put pressure on him. Their kind of pressure sent people to the hospital.

  For a moment, the sound of their pursuit quieted. He could no longer hear their feet slapping against the pavement behind him. He slowed too and dared to look back. They were about fifty feet away, just walking now and catching their breath. Resting up. But still closing the distance between them. He saw they held billy clubs in their hands.

  A fresh wave of adrenaline exploded through his body. He began to run again, toward the Community Garden this time. He heard one of them shout a curse, and then they were after him again, knocking over trash cans in jumping fences in their haste to get to him.

  He crashed into the gardens, a cooperative where Rockport Grove residents rented a piece of land on which to grow their vegetables. He pulled down chicken wire guarding kale from groundhogs and ripped netting that protected a row of dwarf apple trees from deer. He busted a trellis holding clematis vines and flattened late-season chrysanthemums beneath his feet. And yet, the damage he wreaked wasn’t half as bad as that of his pursuers, judging by the noise they were making and their curses.

  The Mermaid Inn stood just opposite the Community Garden. As he emerged from the flower beds into the street, his jeans became caught on a rusted nail that was sticking out of a fence. His own momentum made him fall forward, and pull a portion of the fence with him. He landed heavily on the ground, the air exploding from his lungs with a giant puff. He scrabbled with the fence, trying to get the one leg of his jeans free. The fence wouldn’t let go. Fear grabbed hold of him, too.

  They caught up with him almost instantly and descended upon him with their fists flying. He fought back, landing a punch on the smaller one’s chin, but Ugly and Uglier had the advantage: they were still standing, while Jake lay on his back, caught on the fence. The big one—Uglier—grabbed his arm and wrenched it behind his back, forcing him to flip over onto his stomach. He growled with rage and pain, and prepared to rear up and slam into something soft.